A pair of paramedics ran in the door and came straight over. They knelt by us and unpacked their gear. The blue tackle boxes flew open, revealing more gadgets and gizmos I couldn’t identify.
“Go.” Hunter squeezed my hand. “Go do what you do best, help people. I’ll be here when it’s finished.”
I leaned in and kissed him. He tasted of copper and grit.
“We need some room to work.” The first paramedic sounded apologetic even as he elbowed me to one side and put a blood pressure cuff around Hunter’s arm.
“That’s okay, I need to go.” I released Hunter’s hand and stood up. Steve and Peter hovered nearby. Peter still appeared shell-shocked and Steve, well, Steve looked angrier than I’d ever seen him before. I swore I saw steam coming out of his nostrils.
“Let’s start getting things squared away.” I forced myself to sound calm. “Spread out and see what we can do to help. Steve, start with that set of slot machines over there, the ones that fell over. Peter, make sure no one’s trapped under anything, and call in the usual troops, rats to roaches if you need to. I don’t want anyone forgotten because they’re stuck under some poker table or behind a fallen display and can’t call for help.”
The two men nodded and moved off, mingling with the growing crowd of civilians and rescue workers swarming over the area.
I glanced at the paramedics, one man now busy ripping what was left of Hunter’s shirt off. The one that spoke to me earlier glanced upward.
“We’ll be taking him to Desert Springs.” He shook his head. “Fella’s darned lucky. Seems like it missed everything vital, but don’t quote me on that. We’ll know better once we get him to the hospital and get some proper tests done.”
“Fancy that,” Hunter said in a weak whisper. “I’m lucky.” He waved me off before I could speak. “Get back to work.”
I turned away as they shifted him onto a stretcher, trying hard not to cry. Steve grunted as he pushed a roulette table upright, and then laughed as healthy gamblers grabbed loose chips from the floor.
Someone tapped my arm. I spun around, wiping my eyes with the back of my hands, to see Peter. He pretended not to notice.
“Prelim report is that no one got seriously hurt. Some cuts and bruises, lots of scared people, and the odd broken arm or leg from being trampled or falling over someone or something, but that’s about it.” A small bird landed on his shoulder, twittering wildly into his ear. He shook his head. “No sight of Lamarr and whatever or whoever that was. It’s like they went into the desert and disappeared. But if she was carrying him, that’d explain it. Everyone would be scrambling to get away from that freak show.”
“Jessie?” I barked into my link. “Please tell me you’re there.”
“We’re here. Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. Hunter’s badly hurt, and we’re headed to the hospital as soon as we help clean up here a bit more. What’s going on there?”
Jessie’s strained voice crackled in my ear. “We’ve got Outrager on line one, half the media outlets on lines two through twenty and a dozen amateur videos showing up either on CNN or YouTube or both.”
I looked over to where Steve pushed a slot machine upright. It landed right-side up with a crash, immediately whistling and honking to get attention. The rollers spun wildly, finally landing on three lemons before letting out a squeal of surrender and shutting down in an electronic coma, overcome by recent events.
I knew how it felt.
“How bad is it?”
Jessie let out a low whistle. “Still trying to figure it out. It’s a shock right now to most people, seeing people getting hurt in the middle of supers fighting.”
I nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see me. One of the major rules when we had been play-fighting for the Agency was full safety for civilians. We’d always fight in empty buildings or deserted industrial complexes, strangely abandoned. Sometimes there’d be extras, paid Agency staff who would run from the scene on cue and give us good camera shots. Rarely did anyone ask why no civilians got injured, but when they did the Agency just shrugged and told them through unofficial channels that we got lucky this time.
But now civilians were fair targets. All the old rules didn’t apply anymore.
I should have guessed it. Mentally I thwapped myself for thinking that we’d be able to play this out like before with rogue supers, run the usual scenarios. I’d fought to free ourselves from playing at being heroes. But I’d also freed the supers to be true villains if they wanted to.
This was all my fault.
“Hold the fort for a bit longer. Get Outrager to view the tapes and see if he can identify the new player. I’ll call as soon as I can. Have the jet crew get ready to go as soon as we get to McCarran.”
“Roger that. I’ll beep you if something comes in. Take care of Hunter.” The link went silent.
I walked outside. Ambulances descended on the tourist trap like a plague of locusts, along with enough media vans to tape my own reality series. The reporters were already setting up, live transmissions going out about the Protectors losing their first official battle.
The police were everywhere, throwing out temporary barriers to channel the rescue efforts and funnel out the walking wounded. A SWAT team deployed from their van, spreading out to cover something somewhere. They ran by me without giving me a second look.
I stood there in silence and then headed towards the nearest open space, snatching up the energy to fly. I had to get out of here, I had to get to Hunter. I couldn’t stay here anymore and see the results of my bad decision.
One thick-set man in a uniform pointed in my direction, his face scarlet.
“You,” he huffed as I came closer. “You did this.”
“No.” I held my ground, crossing my arms in front of me so he wouldn’t see my hands shaking. “The damage was done by a rogue super, name of Brian Lamarr.”
“Why didn’t you stop him?” The policeman shook his head. “That’s what you’re supposed to do. That’s what you do.” His voice held a note of desperation.
“I know.” I looked around us at the mess, my voice breaking. “I know.”
Chapter Six
It’d been a long, frustrating hour of sitting in the near-full waiting room, pacing the narrow aisles and waiting for an update on Hunter. Sixty minutes of watching doctors and nurses run around like trained ants, rotating injured people in and out of rooms with a speed and efficiency that made them all supers.
My stomach growled, prompting me to head for the overworked and half-filled candy machine in the nearby vending area.
I tapped my pockets. Nothing. A fast glance left and right showed no one looking my way as I raised a single finger and zapped the electronics, giving myself credit.
In the middle of my fifth chocolate bar I spotted Hunter being wheeled out of one room and down the hall, a pale smile and a weak wave all I’d been able to get before security pointed me back towards the waiting room. I couldn’t blame them for doing their job.
I took it out on three bags of potato chips and one misshapen stale honey bun instead. The next machine coughed up water bottles, and I headed for the front door, unable to stay inside another minute.
I sat on the front steps of the hospital and chugged my third bottle of water. It was cold and wet, and I ran the sweating plastic over my face and neck before tipping it one last time to finish off the remaining drops. Even at night Vegas was too damned hot.
Steve walked out of the hospital and sat down beside me. He’d ridden in on one of the last ambulances after doing what he could at the scene. His shirt was ripped and stained with blood, thankfully none of it being his. He rubbed his bald head with one hand, growling out what I assumed to be a string of curses in a foreign language, possibly Hungarian.
“We did good,” he said in English. “But not good enough.”
I nodded. There really wasn’t anything I could say.
Steve rocked on the cool concrete steps. “I came out to tell you that
Hunter’s askin’ to see you,” he rumbled. “They got him in a room now. Looks pissed.”
“I’m sure he is.” I tried to squash the empty water bottle top to bottom, like a beer can.
Steve reached out and took it from me. It deflated in seconds under his firm grip.
“Show off.” I chuckled.
Before I could get up, the link went live.
“Jo?” Jessie called. “Can I bother you for an update, or is it still a bad time?”
“I’m here at the hospital with Steve. Peter’s around somewhere and Hunter’s getting treated.”
“Okay. Just wanted to let you know our Agency dog is here and frothing all over the place. And not in a good, happy way.”
I couldn’t summon the strength to laugh. “Not surprising. I’m assuming he showed up in plenty of time to see our horrible performance broadcast over and over and over again.”
“That he did. And when he’s not screaming on his cell phone to someone, he’s eating all our food. It’s really beginning to piss David off, especially when he says that coffee is better than tea.”
I smiled in spite of the situation, imagining David launching into his tirade about how good loose-leaf tea beat out coffee, even the freshly ground stuff. “Has he gotten you information on our second player?”
“That would be a yes.” Through the low static I heard a rustling of papers. “Seems she’s a kid called Wind Witch.”
I shuddered at hearing yet another Agency tag. “Please, real name.”
“Right. Sorry. Rachael Hammond. Teenager, if you can believe that, just turned eighteen six months ago.”
Steve looked at me with a shocked expression. “She’s a kid?”
“Well, technically an adult,” Jessie said. “She got into a fight at school, typical bullying scenario. Got stomped by a gang of girls and woke up able to spin low-level twisters.”
“And the Agency swooped down on her like vultures on fresh road kill,” I added.
“She was in training until all hell broke loose, and she broke free. No sign of her Guardian, if she was even assigned one. The file’s sort of blurry in that area.”
“Of course.” I sighed. “Jessie, any idea of where Lamarr’s heading now?”
“Nothing. The cell phone I triangulated is still on Fremont Street, and I think it’s a good bet it’s in the rubble somewhere. His footsteps disappeared once he left your area. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wa…Rachael’s got him swept up in her little twister arms and is making sure he doesn’t touch down anywhere so we can track him.”
“Okay. Make sure the jet’s prepped at the airport. I hope to be wheels-up within the hour, if at all possible. Time for us to get out of Las Vegas.”
“I’ll make it possible.” A minute of static. “Are you bringing Hunter home?”
I didn’t look at Steve. “We’ll see what the doctors say. But don’t tell Outrager anything about Hunter. Let the bastard find out on his own. If he doesn’t know already.”
“Definitely.” A different tone entered his voice, something sounding akin to fear. “Are we in a lot of trouble?”
“No, but lock down the Lair. You and David stay there. Don’t go home and don’t let anyone in, even the pizza guy. I don’t know if either of you will be a target because of this clusterfuck.”
“A target? For who? The Agency?”
I got to my feet, wincing as every muscle complained. “No. The public.”
The stunned silence lasted a full minute, the clicks and chirps on the line rising and falling in intensity. “Roger that. If you need anything, just call.” The link went silent.
“Jo.” Steve stood up beside me. “I’m used to losing, you know. You ain’t.”
“Yeah.”
“It still sucks when you’re a good guy, just so you know.”
“Yes, yes it does.” I led him up the steps. “It sucketh greatly.”
We walked through the emergency room, which was still filled with the relatives and friends of those who had been injured at Fremont Street. Fortunately for us, no one offered any comments or cursing, although I suspected more than one person was holding back the urge to vent. Having a mammoth ex-steelworker walking alongside you tends to stifle spontaneous actions like that. Still, there were enough dirty looks and whispered asides that I felt even worse by the time we made it to Hunter’s room.
Peter stood outside the closed door, rubbing his hands together so hard I was afraid he’d pull the skin off. He’d changed out of his bloodstained shirt into a light green scrub top.
“Doctor’s just making a final check before releasing him. Against medical advice, so you know.” He dragged the tip of his running shoe across the pristine tiled floor. “No luck tracing our two perps. As soon as she picked him up they shot out of town into the desert; couldn’t get anyone to follow them. Too dangerous.”
“Smart dogs,” Steve said. “No offense to your buddies, but she’d have torn those pups to pieces.”
“Nothing from the air?” I prompted.
“Nothing. It’s like they just disappeared.” His deep blue eyes were bloodshot. “Everyone was too scared to keep an eye on them once they got outside the city. Sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I know you can’t control them. You can only ask them, and they’re not going to take a fall for us. Didn’t expect them to. The coyotes rocked.” I reached out and ruffled his hair. “We’ll be heading for the airport in a little bit. Anything you need to grab back at the hotel? Anyone?”
“Ah, no.” He blushed. “I think I’ll leave it in Vegas.”
Steve laughed and moved to stand by the much smaller man, delivering a light punch to Peter’s shoulder. “Good decision.” He tilted his head towards the door. “We’ll be out here.”
I sighed and pushed the door open.
Hunter sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless. A thick bandage wove across his chest and up over his left shoulder, the white binding standing out against his pale skin. Even his chest hair seemed lighter, fainter.
“Hey. Good to go, just need me a chauffeur,” he quipped, “and a cold beer.”
The doctor, a youngster barely out of medical school, glanced at me then at Hunter. “You need to be careful, Mr. Dillon. As we said, you’re extremely lucky that the shard went in where it did.” He toyed with his glasses before glaring at Hunter. “An inch to either side and you’d be dead.”
“But I’m not. So thank you for the help and please send in the orderly with the wheelchair.” Hunter pulled on a clean dark green scrub shirt before grabbing the clipboard out of the doctor’s hands and scrawling a signature. He handed it back with a smile. “Lucky in Vegas. Who would have figured? Oh, and don’t forget to send the bill to Mr. Outrager. O-U-T-R-A-G-E-R. He’ll take care of it.”
The doctor looked at me. “He should really stay here for observation. I’m not sure if he’s up to traveling.”
“You’ve got other patients who can use the room. I’m signing out AMA and all that. Thanks for the help.” Hunter gestured towards the door. “And have a good day.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said, “but if he’s this mouthy we should get him out of here.”
“As long as the paperwork’s done.” The youngster shook his head before exiting the room.
Hunter gripped the bottom of the thin mattress with both hands. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Since you’re not willing to stay, the plan is to get us home as soon as possible. Jet’s waiting at McCarran.” I paced around the room. “And then we’ll take it from there.”
“Outrager’s got to be freaking, you know that.” He winced as he lifted his left hand to rub the back of his neck. “Have they pulled the files on that crazy wind super yet?”
“Yes, and we got a name. Rachael Hammond.” My heart raced as I stared at the bloody bandages lying on the floor. “We’ll have a briefing when we get home. Outrager’s driving the boys crazy, but at least he coughed up the files.”
“Name doesn’t ring a bel
l with me.” He shook his head. “Sorry.”
“Hey, I don’t expect you to know all the supers personally.” I leaned against the wall, grateful for the support. “Are you okay? I mean, for real. Now that the doctor’s gone and it’s just us.”
“I’m good.” Hunter pulled out a small bottle of pills from his jean pocket. “Pain pills will get me through it. As they said, lucky. And no casualties. I interrogated the kid on that before you arrived.”
“Thank God. I don’t know if I could live with that. I know we lost people in New York City and other cities where the aliens attacked, but not because of us directly.”
Hunter gave me a wistful look. “That was part of what Lamarr and his partner were counting on. That we’d be more concerned with the public than beating their asses down. Next time we’re going to have to pull them away from the city, out into the wilderness or something.”
“There won’t be a next time. Not for you.” I choked the words out.
Hunter stared at me. “What?”
I shook my head. “I can’t have you in the field, not now. Not anymore.” I couldn’t stop talking, gasping for air between words and running through the script I’d been mentally writing for the past hour. “You’re a super, Hunter, but not someone who can be out there in a fight. They were right to make you a Guardian on the sidelines, May was lucky to have you, and you know she cared for you so much. How can I have you out there with us, knowing you could get hurt again? This time you got lucky, but the next time, oh God.” I pressed my hands over my face, every word tearing at my heart. “I can’t lose you. I can’t go through this again, losing someone close to me. I can’t.”
I heard the creak of metal spring on metal spring from the bed. A pair of hands landed on my shoulders.
“You’re not going to lose me.” The soothing voice shredded any remaining self-control.
“Yes, I am. Just like I lost Mike,” I sobbed.
“Jo.” The single word, infused with love and respect and worry, broke me.
I grabbed his wrists, feeling the heat surge up into my skin. “For God’s sake, Hunter, don’t fight me on this. I can’t deal with all of this at once, not now. You want me to lead, I’m leading. And I can’t afford to have you out there in danger.”
Heroes Without, Monsters Within Page 11
