Heroes Lost and Found

by Sheryl Nantus

  The answer came within a few seconds.

  I turned downwards, headfirst, and plummeted towards the burning trees.

  The roar of Dykovski’s boot engines filled the air as my muscles went limp, the initial effect of the taser ending. I still couldn’t move and I felt like I was made of mush. Mush snapping to a painful stop at the end of the line, swinging under the ex-Guardian in his power armor like a giant pendulum.

  “Hold on, Jo,” Peter yelled through the link. I tried to respond but couldn’t manage more than a mumble, trying to gather both my thoughts and yank in enough electromagnetic waves to fly. Whether I’d pull Dykovski down to the ground or swing him around like a yo-yo on a string, I hadn’t decided yet.

  Or if I’d just continue to bungee jump until he decided to fry me up like a burrito. A super burrito. A flaming giant super burrito.

  Hold the salsa.

  Peter interrupted my wandering thoughts. “Help’s on the way. Steve, going to need you to play catcher again.”

  “Again? Hunter’s gonna get jealous.”

  “Hunter will get more than jealous if you don’t,” Hunter growled over the link. “Is that what I think it is, Peter?”

  “Jo, get ready to fly. Or fall. Or something,” Peter warned.

  Getting enough control over myself to raise my head, I glanced up to see one area of the sky darken as if someone had flung a blot of ink on the horizon. Not too far from the growing dot I saw two figures rise over the treetops, hopefully Rachael and Peter.

  Dykovski looked at the approaching darkness, his right arm pointed down at me as his boots continued to cough, the white puffy smoke washing over me.

  If nothing else, I was making him waste fuel.

  The mysterious cloud raced towards me, skimming the treetops. At the last second it swooped upwards, swirling past me where I hung helpless in the net.

  Dykovski let out something between a curse and a cry for help.

  The black fog swallowed him whole, the only sign he’d ever been there the thick cable keeping me trapped. The rope jerked, yanking me into a severe case of whiplash.

  A second later the mass broke up enough for me to see what was going on.

  Bats, hundreds of them, whirled around Dykovski’s head. They crashed into the metal body, some of the tiny dazed bodies falling past me before regaining their composure and returning to the attack.

  A dull roar reached my ears, drowning out the squealing.

  Dykovski cursed as he swept his arms around, jerking me like a dead yo-yo. His flamethrower went off, incinerating dozens in a deadly replay of our previous meeting. I couldn’t see his face, but I could imagine the panic going through his mind as he fought, again, some of nature’s smallest warriors.

  “Get ready, Steve, it’s about to go,” Peter shouted as Dykovski swung again at the tiny attacking flyers. “Get ready, Jo.”

  “Ready for what?” I mumbled, still slightly dazed.

  Dykovski repeated the action, the flamethrower on his left overlapping the rope on his right holding me up.

  I shrieked as the rope broke free, sending me into a downwards plunge. Even though I’d recovered from the tasing, it’d be impossible for me to stabilize myself before I hit the ground. I needed time to regain my senses, figure out which way was up and how to weave the waves around me into what I needed to fly.

  I didn’t have time.

  Seconds before I reached the tops of the trees a pair of strong arms went around me, cradling me as I prepared for impact.

  “Got you,” Steve rumbled.

  Suddenly there was no more falling, just a wave of nausea as the world twirled and whirled around us in a crazy dance, the shock waves rolling over me.

  The air whooshed out of my lungs, my chest bursting with pain as I swung around and around, the forest finally slowing down and stopping like we’d been on a runaway carnival ride.

  I wheezed my way back to full consciousness, blinking wildly.

  Steve came into focus, his dark brown eyes filled with concern. “Sorry for the dance, boss lady. Had to do a bit of a polka there or we’d both be nursing some broken bones. Well, you at least.” He smiled as he put me on my feet. “Let me get this for you.” Steve wedged his thick fingers between the restrictive strands and my shoulder. A sharp tug created a small hole which he expanded within seconds, ripping the net open.

  My shoulders screamed as the pressure disappeared, the blood racing away from my head to the rest of my body where it was welcomed with even more pain. I slumped against Steve, who put a hand around my waist, steadying me.

  “Give it a minute.” He looked upwards. “Mission accomplished, Hunter. Worked just like we practiced. She’s pretty light on her feet.” Steve shot me a saucy wink. “You’re a lucky man.”

  The reply came over the link. “Yes, I am. Just hold your position for a minute and catch your breath. Peter, what’s the situation with your buddies?”

  “They’re pulling back,” Peter said.

  I began searching for Peter and Rachael through the thick smoke creeping through the woods. The haze now clouded everything, giving the forest a surreal, dream-like appearance.

  Peter continued. “Only so much I can ask of them. They owed Dykovski for making so much noise in the bunker. Seems they liked their little cubbyholes there, and he really stirred up the old holes and gaps sending out those robots.”

  “Where are you?” I shook my head to clear the fogginess. “Where’s Dykovski?”

  “Not too far from your position. He’s taking a bit of time to get it together. He’s just hanging there in the air. Think we really spooked him with the bats.”

  “Okay, give me a minute to get airborne.” I took a step forward, away from Steve’s rock-steady support, and wobbled to one side. I felt like a wet kitten. “Practiced? You practiced catching me?”

  “Technically, not just you.” Steve held a finger up. “We figured midair grabs might be a good thing to have under our belt with both you and Rachael being flyers and all. Flyers can be fallers at some point.”

  “What the hell else did you practice?” I took a few steps, growing stronger with each one. The smoke swirled about us as I clenched my fists, grabbing up the waves.

  “Hunter said he’s got a few new moves to show you.”

  I rose into the air. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” I looked for Dykovski when I broke through into the open sky.

  Sure enough he wasn’t far from where we’d started this crazy dance, his boots sputtering while he tried to maintain altitude. He spun around with his arms outstretched as if looking for a target. The shredded remains of the cable swung from his arm like an ugly fashion accessory.

  “He can’t have a lot of fuel left,” Hunter said. “Either in the jump boots or in the flamethrower. But don’t get too cocky. Again.” His tone held a bit of disapproval.

  I snorted. “I’m doing fine, thankyouverymuch.”

  Steve chuckled.

  “And no comments from the peanut gallery.” I charged towards Dykovski. “Let’s see if I can get this guy on the ground, make it easier for us to put him down as a group.”

  The flamethrower burped a long stream of flame at me as I circled around the armored suit. The heated air brushed against me, but I kept perfect timing, staying just outside of the deadly spiral.

  “Pussy.” I crossed my arms and smirked. “That the best you got? I’ve seen better moves from rookies just out of boot camp.” My fingers were still shaking from being shocked.

  “Come a bit closer and I’ll show you my moves,” Dykovski answered, a slight tremor in his voice. “I already beat you down once, Surf. I’ll do it again and show the world you’re nothing more than a freak.”

  “I am a freak. But one of the good ones.” I zipped around him three more times, turning my nervous energy into a sharp laugh. “Bring it on, you big bully. Let’s see how tough you are when you’re not jacking off to beating on big men like Kit Masters.”

  I dov
e towards the clearing I’d just left.

  Trails of smoke rose around me, the fire started by the attacking robots growing and devouring like an angry beast. A nearby tree burst into flames, the leaves shrieking as they shriveled and died. Sparks flew everywhere, setting other trees alight in a vicious domino chain.

  “Damn.” I looked back to see Dykovski coming at me, having taken the bait. “This fire is getting out of control and fast. Can we get a water drop here or something?”

  “Deal with Dykovski first, we’ll worry about the rest,” Hunter said. “Focus. Focus.”

  “Everyone head for my location—I’m bringing him down.” I cut the power and dropped as safely and as quickly as I could, crouching down in the dirt. Dykovski arced in over my head, thrashing and crashing through the trees as he tried to stop on a dime and failed, forgetting his power armor was nowhere near as flexible as a super’s body. Thick wooden branches splintered and flew through the air, feeding the small fires springing up around us.

  We’d won a slight reprieve and I needed it. I drew deep breaths despite the smoke, forcing myself to stay alert. I’d already made one big mistake—the next one could get myself or one of the team killed.

  Steve came out of the trees and knelt beside me. He coughed and turned his head to one side to spit. “There’s a small lake not too far from here, saw it when I jumped before. Should be easy for a tanker to do a water drop, cool things off around here.” He waved a hand towards Dykovski’s aborted landing area. “Bet the bastard’s got his air conditioning on high and growing icicles on his balls.”

  I chuckled in spite of the situation.

  Harris staggered out of the brush a minute later. His face was flushed, and I saw the panic rising in the way his eyes darted from side to side, watching the fires, watching Dykovski, watching me.

  Baptism by fire in the truest sense of the word.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling the trembling go up my arm. “Keep frosty. We’re almost done.”

  “I just, ah…” He wiped the sweat from his forehead on his leather sleeve. “I’d forgotten how this felt.” A limp smile formed. “Sort of like great sex. You keep forgetting about the foreplay needed to get there.”

  I suppressed a shudder at the mental image of Harris in any sort of sexual situation. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “Let me drop Peter off, and I’ll see what I can do about getting some water out here.” Rachael flew over us, Peter at her side.

  “Be careful,” I warned as Peter descended on a small air funnel to land beside us. “Don’t make the fire any worse.” The hot wind snapped across me. “Damned if you do and all that.”

  “Right. Hunter, I’m off to the lake. Let me know where the best place would be to dump some water.”

  “On us would be fine.” Peter brushed twigs and leaves off his arms as he moved to the edge of the tree line. “Let me see what I can get in the way of backup. A whole lot of panicking going on right now out there. Not much chance to talk or listen.”

  “I bet.” I spat to one side, my throat closing up from the smoke. “Just don’t get trapped by the fire. Keep near us and don’t hesitate to call for help.”

  He threw me a salute and ran into the forest.

  “Incoming.” Harris pointed ahead of us. The tremble in his voice shot straight to my gut.

  A series of trees fell to each side as Dykovski thrashed his way to the edge of the clearing.

  I couldn’t help grinning at the sight. The power armor now looked like a warped attempt to camouflage a medieval knight, dead leaves and pine needles sticking out from the joints and falling from his shoulders. The slick, shiny armor was pitted with the nails of a thousand claws, dark bloody stains and smudge marks taking the polish off the suit.

  He roared and charged us like a rabid bull.

  Harris turned and ran, disappearing into the smoke.

  I licked my cracked, scorched lips.

  Steve popped his knuckles. The determined look in his eyes reminded me of an angry father about to defend the honor of his family. “Stand aside, Jo. This one’s for you.” He lifted his hands into a boxing stance, his feet digging into the parched earth.

  “Hell no.” I stood to his right, loading my imaginary weapons. My arms trembled as I raised them, the weakness threatening to topple me before Dykovski could. Damned tasering still affected my system, shivers and shakes attacking my nerves.

  Dykovski raised the goop gun in his right hand. Black tarry substance dripped from the tip, ready to immobilize anything or anyone it touched.

  “Wait for it,” Steve snarled, a predatory tone in his words. “Wait for it.” His left foot edged forward, increasing his stance.

  Dykovski’s finger tightened on the trigger. The ground shook as he bore down on us, a silent curse forming on his lips.

  Steve’s eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared once, twice.

  The tar shot out of the end of the pistol, the black baseball spouting towards us. It veered just a fraction in flight, and I saw it was aimed for my face.

  Steve shifted, or more specifically his hips did, slamming into me with so much force I knew there’d be more bruises for Hunter to tend to.

  The impact sent me flying across the small clearing to land awkwardly, painfully, on my right side. I looked up, slightly dazed from the body check, to see the ebony goop land squarely on Steve’s right hand, clotting his fingers together.

  Steve laughed and looped his hand around in a circular motion, spinning his arm three times before pulling it in front of him, assuming the same position as before the attack.

  His fist was coated in the goop, the now-solid ball doubling the size of his clenched hand.

  Dykovski’s eyes went wide as he skidded to a stop, inches from the super.

  “Thanks.” The strongman grinned and punched him square in the chest, using the encased right hand as a battering ram.

  Dykovski grunted as he took a few steps back, struggling to keep his balance. A deep dent in the front of the armor showed the strength of Steve’s punch.

  Dykovski’s arm shook as he raised it again. A blast of black tar shot out from the nozzle.

  Steve sidestepped it at close range, shuffling to one side like he’d been boxing all his life.

  The misshapen blob landed with a wet whoosh in the dirt, kicking up a small cloud as it solidified.

  Steve charged forward and rammed Dykovski’s right side in the best Pittsburgh Steeler slam I’d ever seen, bar none, head tucked in and shoulder side out in Super Bowl quality.

  The impact sent the goop gun flying free, the weapon bouncing away to land at the edge of the clearing.

  Dykovski grunted as the heavily armored suit slid a half foot towards me, the thick, fat feet gouging a trench.

  His finger tightened on the flamethrower trigger. An uncontrolled stream of fire rose up and arced down, headed for where I lay.

  My tongue stuck to the top of my parched mouth as I rolled away. Around me trees ignited, sun-baked leaves burst into flames, and it seemed the ground itself had decided to turn to hot magma. I forced myself to stand, muscles screaming and protesting all the abuse over the past few hours. With a short burst of energy I rose into the air, away from the blistering soil.

  One last desperate explosion of willpower sent me at the armored man, my right foot leading. It was a classic move, a move I’d practiced a thousand times and choreographed into a dozen fights.

  It would knock him head over heels, flip him like a coin and send him flying.

  In theory.

  The roaring in my ears increased, building with the roar of the fire around us.

  I landed right on target.

  The impact shuddered through me, rubber sole slamming against solid metal. It was like slapping a dead fish against the side of a mountain.

  I flew backwards and crashed onto the ground in almost the same spot I’d left.

  I just couldn’t give anymore. Between the events of the past few days and t
he brawling here, there was nothing left in my main tank, my reserve tank, my tank top.

  It wasn’t enough to hurt him, but it wasn’t supposed to.

  I tried not to look at Steve as he moved behind Dykovski, shifting out of sight.

  Dykovski’s eyes locked with mine, a sneer on his face. “Nice try, Surf—but I’ve seen all your moves, remember? All of them.”

  He spun around with amazing speed, his right armored arm crashing into Steve’s midsection. “I’m no fool, Slammer,” Dykovski yelled. “Think I didn’t know you were going for a back attack? You haven’t changed at all.”

  I gasped as the strongman flew backwards to smack into a nearby burning tree, sending it toppling into the growing flames. Steve gave a grunt before falling over, the goop-encrusted hand pawing at the sky as his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell unconscious.

  “Now to fry your sweet little ass.” Dykovski advanced on me. He raised the flamethrower again, pointing it down at me. “Where were we?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I stared at the nozzle and the small flame under it, the igniter waiting to launch a whole new world of pain.

  I lifted my right hand and leveled it at his face, palm out. Any charge I could give would be absorbed by the suit. It was created to be immune to attacks like mine. But I wasn’t going down without a fight.

  “Goodbye, Surf,” Dykovski sneered. “Too bad we couldn’t work something out. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of the rest of your supers.”

  I glared back. I had nothing to say, and I’d be damned if I went out with a plea on my lips.

  All I could think about was how I’d lost the bet with Hunter. I’d really wanted that salsa.

  I fired, a weak, half-ass attack only fit for the photo shoots and for scaring children. The charge ran over the power armor, sparking and flaring up at all the joints.

  His right eyebrow arched as his lips twisted into an evil smile.

  His finger tightened on the trigger.

  A head popped up behind Dykovski’s shoulder, eyes wide with rage.

  Harris shrieked and slammed his hands down on Dykovski’s back, his fingers digging into the metal tank holding the natural gas fueling the flamethrower.