Heroes Lost and Found

by Sheryl Nantus

  “We’re hanging here at the snack truck set up for the Agency boys. Nice spread.”

  I gulped down the painkillers with a swig of water. “The boys or the food?”

  “Both. As to your second question, he’s about a hundred miles to the north. Bee’s hanging on for dear life.”

  I scowled at Hunter as I wrestled the track pants and shirt back on. “And we’re not moving because…”

  “Because we know the power armor has limited flight ability. It wasn’t meant to go long distances, simply to hop from site to site. It should be out of fuel in time for him to land near another Agency cache,” Hunter replied. “There’s one not far from where he is right now. It’s a good bet he’ll be holing up there.”

  “What, they dropped these things in pairs?” I struggled with the shirt, wrestling it over my damp skin. “How can they be so close to each other? I thought they were spread out across the country.”

  “It was mothballed a year ago, like this one. Both replaced with another one down the coast.” Hunter let out a sharp laugh. “Wasting money isn’t just for the government.”

  I sparked my blonde hair dry. Split ends galore, but I wasn’t that worried about my close-up on camera. “Tell me there’s a huge military presence about to drop on his ass when he lands.”

  The silence was deafening.

  I turned on Hunter, feeling the sudden chill in the air. “Tell me.”

  He chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes everywhere but on me.

  “Hunter.” My fingers curled into claws. “I am not in a mood for games right now.”

  He ran his tongue over his lips before speaking, choosing every word as if he were handling dynamite. “Outrager thinks it’d be better for the cameras if we took him down instead of the authorities.”

  “Oh, for the love of…” I stomped past Hunter in my bare feet to the front of the bus and threw the door open.

  Outrager leaned on the side of the bus, tapping on his computer tablet.

  I strode over to the agent, trying not to flinch as my feet hit the hot soil. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “Jo. You’re looking better.” He smiled. “I’m glad.”

  The consolatory tone didn’t work on me. “Why do we have to go get Dykovski? Send in the Marines, nuke the fucker from orbit, I don’t care.”

  Peter and Rachael ran over to stand at my side, Rachael touching my arm with a featherlight hold. I looked at her, seeing the concern at my anger. Peter gave me a nervous smile, his gaze darting towards the mega-bus windows.

  Outrager gave his tablet one last tap before putting it down by his side. “Is that what you want me to do? Send in the military to capture him?”

  Hunter hopped off the bus and moved into our half-circle, next to me. “She’s in rough shape. But the rest of us can do it.”

  I glared at Hunter, my temper flaring up again. “You want to see who’s in rough shape?” I pulled my fingers into a fist, overriding the weary muscles. “You want to see?”

  Outrager gave a noncommittal shrug, drawing my attention back. “Your team, your call, Jo. But I have to point out how it’ll look to the public when the military end up taking down a guy in a flying armor suit using weapons that make him look like a super. And who, obviously, is behind the events of a few weeks ago that did involve rogue supers.”

  “Shit.” I turned around and punched the side of the bus, letting the sparks fly from my fingers. “Shit, shit, shit.” My knuckles ached from the new abuse.

  “What’s the problem?” Rachael asked.

  “It’s all about appearances,” Peter stepped in to answer. “If we want to keep the public believing in us, in our power to win over the bad guys, we have to take Dykovski down. Otherwise it’ll send a signal that we’re not willing or able to finish the job.”

  “And if we don’t take him out…” she paused, her mind playing out the scenario, “…then the public confidence in us drops and we end up becoming vulnerable to the Agency again. If the heroes won’t take on the villains, especially when they’ve been kidnapped and…” she fell silent for a second before continuing, “…beaten up, then we lose our status. And any other supervillains out there might see it as an invitation to start trouble because we’ve set the limit, we’ve said how far we’ll go before dumping it on the military.”

  “You got it,” Peter mumbled. “Welcome to the world of supers.”

  “Jo, you don’t have to do this.” Rachael pulled me around. The blonde ponytail bounced over her shoulder, flashing bright against the black leather. “You’re in no shape to do this. Let us go take him down.” There was a tremor in her voice, a shudder sending my blood pressure into overdrive. “We can do this. I can do this.”

  “No.” I made a slicing motion with my hand. “We all go together or we don’t go at all.” I mentally slapped the link open. “Steve, Harris, where are you?”

  “Getting ready to head back to the bus,” Steve answered. He sounded exhausted. “Jim’s going to lose the hand. They’ll be able to tie it off when he completes the switch, do a clean amputation around the edges.”

  I shook my head, forgetting he couldn’t see my response. “Damn it. Well, get it in gear ’cause we’ve got a house call to make on Dykovski.”

  “Do you want me to come along?” Harris asked. There was a hesitation in his voice, reminding me of a child waiting to be reprimanded.

  Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help smiling. “We got room on the bus. Welcome home.”

  Peter let out a whoop, patting Rachael on the shoulder. For her part she seemed more curious than anything else. Hunter looked at me and nodded his approval, a bit of a smirk on his lips.

  “Just don’t get all weepy on me, Harris,” Steve joked over the link. “I’m not going to stand next to you if you start bawling like a baby.”

  “Oh, you want to talk about crying…”

  “Take it offline, you two,” I broke in. “Just come on back so we can finish this business up.”

  Outrager smiled. “The public will love this.” He glanced down at his tablet, gaze darting from program window to window. “We’ve already pieced together some great footage from the tapes inside the bunker.” His long, slender fingers machine-gunned commands and instructions on the screen. “I figure we’ll be able to do at least an hour on Inferno’s memorial alone.”

  I slapped the expensive toy from his hands. It bounced under the bus and into the shadows, a small dust cloud signaling its departure from the conversation. “This isn’t a game anymore, Outrager. People got hurt here. People died here. Good people who didn’t deserve anything to happen to them.”

  “Yes.” He crossed his arms in front of him, looking more and more like an undertaker. “And no. We’re going to put Kit Masters out to the media as a hero who valiantly died while trying to save you.” One well-manicured eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch. “Or would you like the press to get the real story, about a drunken, crazed psychotic super on a mission to kill Dykovski and not caring who got in his way?”

  I closed my eyes. The throbbing behind my left eyeball pushed down the anger, beating it into submission for the time being.

  “Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose,” I muttered.

  Hunter gave me a curious look.

  I offered up a half-assed translation. “Same shit, different day.”

  “Exactly.” Outrager shrugged. “Of course, it’s totally your call. I can make sure Dykovski’s contained, as in doesn’t leave the cache until you get there. After that it’s all up to you.” His mouth twitched, trying not to twist into a smile. “Don’t forget to put on a good show.”

  Hunter retrieved the tablet and studied the images. “I think it goes without saying that if I see one shot of Jo anywhere, I’ll take it out of your hide.”

  Outrager huffed, plucking the device from Hunter’s hands. “Please. Give me more credit than that. I appreciate and cherish our relationship and wouldn’t throw that away for some vicarious thr
ill.” He ran his finger over the screen. “Besides, they’re not really marketable. The posters put her in a much more favorable light.”

  I put my hands back on the bus and let the rage dissipate through my fingers in a sparking light show.

  A shudder ran through the ground, pulling me off the hot metal. I looked up to see Steve standing there, carrying Harris in his arms. The strongman gave me a sheepish grin as he put his cargo down.

  “You said to hurry up.” Steve guffawed. “And he don’t whine like a baby about being carried.”

  Harris smiled at Rachael, wiping the palms of his hands on his pants. He still wore the black T-shirt and fatigues.

  “I’m Harris.” He offered his hand. “We sort of met while I was running away like a little girl.”

  Rachael took it with a giggle. “Rachael.”

  Harris lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  I rolled my eyes, wondering for the millionth time what I had done in a previous life to be so lucky and so cursed. Born in interesting times and all that.

  “That’s enough. Everyone on the bus, and let’s get going. Dykovski’s not going to capture himself.” I pointed at Harris. “And you behave.”

  He pointed at himself in mock surprise before escorting Rachael up the steps, his eyes following her every move.

  “I’ll watch him,” Peter offered as he hopped up inside. Steve laughed and followed suit. Hunter hovered on the steps as I made my way up inside, trying not to wince as my aching feet continued to protest any sort of movement.

  Jessie ran up, his hands empty. He glared at Outrager before speaking. “They wouldn’t let me get anything. Not even a spare radio.”

  “We’re not going to hand over proprietary technology to a hacker.” Outrager sniffed.

  “A what?” Jessie put his hands on his hips. “What did you call me?”

  “Whoa.” I pushed Hunter out of the way and stepped down between the two men. “Jessie, on the bus. You…” I emphasized this with a poke in the Agency rep’s chest, “…go fuck yourself.”

  I moved up the steps, herding Jessie towards the back. He growled but complied, his scavenger hunt over.

  “Stay in touch,” Outrager prompted, his fingers back on the computer tablet. “And don’t worry, we’ll be here if you need us.”

  “Like a venereal disease,” I mumbled with a jerk of my head towards the driver, a thin waif in an Agency suit. “What’s your name?”

  “Bill,” he replied. “Bill Muncey.” The full head of white hair peeked out from under the driver’s cap. “Pleased to be working for you.”

  “Glad to meet you, Bill. Let’s get on the road.”

  The door slammed shut and the bus lurched forward, leaving Outrager and the cache behind, the men still running in and out of the bunker like army ants searching for their lost queen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Okay. Let’s get some sort of briefing going on here.” I motioned the team towards the center of the bus where the large table could almost seat all of us. Peter hopped up into one of the bunk beds with Rachael taking the lower bunk. Steve jammed himself around the table, Harris sliding in beside him. I leaned against the media cabinet and tried to not look like I was about to collapse.

  Jessie sat next to Harris, a remote control in his hand. “Say the word, Hunter.”

  Hunter stood beside me and gave me that look. Not the I want to jump your bones look, the Are you about to collapse? look.

  I ignored him. “Hunter, do your voodoo.”

  “Right.” He nodded at Jessie, who tapped out a sequence on the remote.

  The black screen changed to show a satellite view of a patch of woods sitting not far from the beachfront.

  Hunter plucked his computer tablet from a countertop and examined it. “This is where we’ve tracked Dykovski to, courtesy of Peter’s little winged friend.”

  Peter smirked from his overhead view. “Considered having him sting ’im on the way out but thought better of it.”

  “Might be a bit of a giveaway there,” I replied.

  “Fortunately this Agency cache isn’t anywhere as large as the one we just chased him out of. According to Outrager, it was shuttered because of structural problems. Ground shifted ’cause the foundation’s less than solid. Bad government construction, in other words. The entire thing would collapse on us if we attempted to go inside, between Dykovski’s power armor and Steve’s strongman abilities. Not a place to start throwing punches.”

  I flashed back to the mine. Dark, quiet, smelling of death. The moist air, thick and clogging my lungs. Dirt under my fingernails as I struggled to pull myself free.

  My fingers tightened on the varnished wood, nails digging into the shiny finish. It was the only way I could think of to stop my hand from trembling.

  Steve frowned. “Boss lady, you okay? Looking sort of pale.”

  I forced a smile. “Doing fine. Need more time hanging on the roof working on my tan.”

  Hunter shot me a concerned glance before continuing. “That’s the good news. The bad news is, ‘abandoned’ in Agency terms doesn’t mean totally empty. It still holds a handful of equipment and basic supplies in case of emergency.”

  “What sort of equipment?” I asked.

  “Outrager says he’s still compiling a list. Says the records were screwed up when we took out that base in Buffalo.”

  I looked at Hunter. “You don’t believe him.”

  “You do?”

  “Damn.” I closed my eyes. “Damn, damn, damn. I don’t trust him and I don’t trust the Agency. We’re going to have to be ready for anything.”

  “Stay aware, stay frosty. You should all be able to take on whatever Dykovski tosses at you.” Hunter went around the room, pointing at each of us in turn. “Rachael, use your wind power. You won’t be able to penetrate his armor directly, but think outside the box. Rocks, pebbles, tree branches, trees. Steve, crash and smash, sort of goes without saying. Peter, it’d take a pretty strong smack to take him down in that armor, so keep that in mind when you’re asking for help from your forest friends. Harris, touch and burn through. Go for the power cords, if you can get to them—they’re well inside the armor so look for some way to breach the suit. Hydraulic lines, whatever you can reach to cripple his weapons and hopefully him as well. Your power is hands-on, so choose your battles carefully. Maybe team up with someone else to stay safe.” He paused and looked at me with a grin. “I’m not even going to try to tell you what to do.”

  “See,” I directed the comment to Rachael. “Men can be trained.”

  She chuckled, giving Peter a nudge with her shoulder.

  He rolled his eyes in response. “I’ve been saying that for years.”

  Hunter snapped his fingers, bringing us back to the screen.

  “Eyes front, kids. As I said, a frontal assault isn’t going to work for us. What we need to do is draw him out. If we go inside, we’re risking a cave-in, or worse, being separated from each other and becoming easy prey for Dykovski as he takes you on one by one. We can’t lose each other underground.”

  His words traveled to me down a long dark tunnel, my sight closing in on the sides and threatening to shut me down. I’d had this sort of preliminary attack before and knew it heralded a major migraine.

  I couldn’t afford one. Not here, not now.

  I stumbled to the center of the bus and fumbled with the kitchenette controls. The small burners seemed simple enough to operate. A cupboard overhead coughed up a small ceramic teapot and a fresh box of teabags. Whoever stocked the groceries knew what I liked.

  “Why not just collapse the place in around him?” Rachael chirped from behind me. “Seal him in there and go home?”

  A hot water dispenser. It’d have to do. I filled the teapot and dropped a generic teabag in, forcing the lid down with shaky fingers.

  “Because he’s got enough food in there to survive until he digs himself out,” Hunter answered. “Th
e Agency left some incidentals in there for emergencies, and I’m pretty sure food was on the list.”

  “And it won’t work for the cameras,” Peter interjected. “We need to get him out and take him down fast and clean and in a big way. Got to make a show of it.”

  “Just wave to him and he’ll come out,” Harris said. “Guy’s got an ego bigger than Slammer’s.”

  Steve laughed. “Maybe. Just maybe.” A resounding slap hit my ears, Steve’s hand on Harris’s back. “But he’s got to know it’s not going to go his way. He knows he’s not coming out of this a winner.”

  “Not necessarily,” Hunter said. “Don’t get cocky and think he’s got nothing to toss against us. We don’t know what’s in the cache yet. Outrager’s moving at the speed of molasses to give us that information. We’ve seen that goop gun and flamethrower, for a start. Sure, we’ve got the remedy here…” he waved at a set of aerosol cans in a box on the counter, “…if you get caught in the black goo, but you’re still going to be incapacitated if that crap hits you, and God forbid it gets over your mouth and nose. And I don’t think Peter can keep asking insects to do that wall thing for the flamethrower.”

  “Not again,” Peter admitted. “Can only ask for so much. Bees, bears and bobcats. And I think we’ll need more than just mice this time.”

  A little mouse tapping on my face. Tapping and tapping, tiny paws tugging at me in the dark. Rocks digging into my back, pushing me down into the dirt, making it hard to breathe, to keep breathing…

  The white ceramic mug fell out of my hands and onto the countertop, rolling as the bus turned.

  “Jo.” Suddenly Hunter was behind me, his hands on my waist and his mouth to my ear. “Go sit down. I’ll bring this to you.”

  “I’m…”

  His tone got more insistent. “Go sit down before you fall down.” The snap in his voice reminded me of Mike ordering me to leave him in New York City. Ordering me to leave him to die while I ran away and lived.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the panic. My chest tightened, sharp pains jabbing at my lungs and choking all the air out of me. A sound broke from my lips, something weak and soft, the panic attack verging on taking over.