Super Human

by Michael Carroll

  Max was staring at the Fifth King. “That’s not the best use of our resources. I’ve got a better idea.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Lance hated to leave the others behind, but Max Dalton’s idea made sense.

  Far behind him the battle still raged: the Fifth King against Roz, Abby, Thunder, and Brawn, while Max tried to find a way into his mind. The King had been weakened by the infection, but he was still almost impervious to their onslaught.

  “Faster!” Lance said to the copter’s pilot.

  “Already at top speed, sir,” the pilot said.

  Lance was astonished at how simple Max had made it look: The superhero had simply ordered The Helotry’s pilot to do whatever Lance asked, and the man seemed more than eager to obey. Now the copter rocketed over the Nebraskan landscape, aiming for a specific destination.

  “We’re close, sir,” the pilot said. “Two minutes.” He tapped at one of the screens with his forefinger. “That’s got to be it there.”

  The screen showed an aerial view of a large, ramshackle farmhouse. “Set us down as close as you can!”

  The copter descended at a dizzying, stomach-churning speed, but Lance wouldn’t allow himself to throw up.

  Lance jumped the last two yards, raced up to the farmhouse’s front porch. There was a wooden barn star next to the door: Lance ripped it off to reveal the hidden keypad. He entered the ten-digit code Max had given him, and the door swung open.

  The inside of the farmhouse was completely at odds with its weathered and faded wooden exterior; it was bright, sleek, modern, and very much the style Lance always associated with ultrarich people like Max Dalton.

  Lance took the stairs three at a time. One of the bedroom doors was open, and lying on the bed was a man in his early twenties, barefoot, dressed in only a sweat-soaked T-shirt and jeans. His entire body was trembling, and he was moaning softly. Lance put his hand on the man’s bare arm.

  Instantly, the man was off the bed and staring at Lance. “What the—? Where did you come from?”

  “Are you Quantum?”

  “What? Who, me? No, I—”

  “We don’t have time for all that,” Lance said. “You’re Quantum and you’re the fastest human being who ever lived. So listen. Everyone—pretty much the whole planet—has been infected with an artificial virus. That’s why you got sick. But you’re carrying the cure now. You have to spread it to everyone. Just touch their bare skin.”

  The young man looked at him. “Everyone?”

  “The whole world. You’re going to have to become Santa Claus. Every home in the world in one day. There’s going to be a lot of locked doors, so I don’t know—”

  There was a blur, and the man was now dressed in Quantum’s all-white costume. “Locked doors are not a problem for me.”

  “Then get moving. And try to find people like Titan and Energy—they’ll be able to fly you anywhere you need to go. Oh, and you need to get to the CDC in Atlanta—give them a sample of your blood so they can replicate the cure.”

  “This is for real?”

  “Yes. Just go.”

  The man nodded, and vanished.

  Five minutes later, as the copter began its journey back to Windfield, they passed low over a small town. Lance looked out to see that some of the people were already beginning to emerge blinking and confused into the sunlight.

  Why do they not submit? Krodin wondered. They must know they are beaten.

  The children shouted orders to each other in their strange language, but it was clear to Krodin that their desperation was growing by the minute.

  The white-skinned girl used her power to raise a thick cloud of dust, caused it to fly at the Fifth King, to swirl and condense around his head.

  Krodin closed his eyes, stretched out with his senses. He allowed his consciousness to rise up, out of his body, to float over the battlefield and see everything at once.

  The sound-controlling boy was keeping his distance from Krodin, but then he did not need to be close to use his power. The boy still blasted at Krodin’s body with tremulous shock waves, but their effect was considerably less now.

  The sword girl continued to attack though her weapon was now lodged in Slaughter’s midriff. She had found a long metal bar and was striking over and over—Krodin snatched the bar from the girl’s hands, spun around, and struck back at her.

  She raised her forearm at the last moment—the metal bar slammed into her arm with enough force to split a normal man in two, but had no such effect on the girl. Instead, the bar twisted around her body as though it was a rope and she was a stone pillar.

  She pulled the bar back from Krodin’s grip—that in itself impressed the Fifth King, for no one had ever been able to break his grip—and tossed it aside. She launched herself at his legs, seeking to topple him.

  In his mind’s eye Krodin saw the blue giant approaching him from behind. Ah. She tries to distract me.

  He grabbed the girl’s arm before she reached him, threw her back over his shoulder and into the blue giant’s face.

  Krodin allowed his mind to stretch further. On the edge of the battlefield a man stood still, staring at him. Another of these superhumans? What strange abilities does this one have?

  No matter. I will adapt. I always adapt.

  And then he felt something rip into his skull, a pinpoint of agony that ruptured, filled his head with incomprehensibly alien words and images.

  Roz groaned, and sat up. Her body was a mass of bruises and she knew that even if they survived this day she’d never be whole again: Pyrokine’s fireball had almost completely burned the skin from her left hand. The pain was almost unbearable; the stench of burned flesh was worse.

  Nearby, Brawn and Abby were still pounding the Fifth King without much sign of damage.

  Inside her head, Max’s voice said, “I’m in, Roz. . . . His mind is very strange. Not like any other I’ve ever seen.”

  A few minutes earlier, Max had taken over the minds of The Helotry’s soldiers, woken them, and ordered them to open fire on the bronze-skinned warrior. Somehow he had successfully dodged every bullet. Roz had once seen Quantum in action—or rather she hadn’t seen him, because the man moved so fast he was invisible—but this was different. The Fifth King seemed to be able to anticipate where the bullets were going to strike. And he did it with his eyes closed.

  Roz limped over to her brother.

  “It’s working,” Max said. “He thinks he’s invulnerable, but he’s not. At least, not in the way we think of the word. His power enables him to adjust to any situation. If we were able to shoot him, the bullets would do some damage, but he’d heal quickly and then next time they wouldn’t affect him at all. That’s why he doesn’t age and doesn’t get sick. He caught the plague that old woman created, and it slowed him down for a few minutes, but now he’s adapted. He’s immune. My God—he’s going to outlive the entire human race! And he’s alone, so alone . . .”

  Is he kidding? Roz thought. “Max, if you can’t stop him he’s going to kill us!”

  “He’s hundreds of years old. Everyone he’s ever known is dead.” Max turned to Roz. “You can’t imagine what that feels like—to know that you’re going to be here long after everyone else is dead.”

  Roz grabbed her brother’s arm. “You’re letting his feelings infect you. You have to put that aside. Just force him to stop fighting!”

  Max nodded, looked back to the Fifth King. “You’re right. . . . I’m pushing through. I can see his memories. . . . He’s killed hundreds of people with his bare hands, thousands more using swords and spears. And he doesn’t care. He’s never regretted anything. But he’s not evil, Roz. Not the same way that old woman is. He’s better than us—our morals don’t apply to him. Krodin knows that he was born to rule. He’s above good and evil.”

  “No, he’s not. Just stop him!”

  “I’m not sure I can. I . . . I’m not sure I should.”

  “What!?”

  “Roz, the whole wor
ld’s in a mess. Always has been. People just don’t want to live in peace. Krodin thinks—he knows—that his function is to unite the entire human race. He could be right. Think about it, Roz. . . . What if there were no nations, no discrimination, no war?”

  “You can’t save the world by beating it into submission, Max! There must be something in his memory that you can use against him. That’s how you normally do this, isn’t it? You take something that scares them and magnify it.”

  “But . . . his memory is huge, Roz. He’s never forgotten anything. His mind is like . . . a desert filled with blood and bones, scattered with rusting shields and swords. Wait, I can see his parents. They died young. Food was scarce—they starved themselves so that Krodin and his brother would live. That’s got to be painful for him. . . .”

  This has to work, Roz thought. I don’t think even Titan could defeat him.

  On the battlefield Krodin swung a punch at Abby and missed. Then he staggered, bellowed in pain, swayed, shuddered, and toppled over.

  Exhausted, Max slumped to the ground. “It’s done. I’m telling Abby and Brawn to tie him up with the strongest stuff they can find. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to keep him down long enough for Titan to get here.”

  From the far side of the battlefield Thunder approached, keeping his distance from the Fifth King’s unconscious body. Roz walked out to meet him. “You OK?”

  The boy shook his head. “Not really.” He looked even more drained than Roz felt. He ran his hands across his face. “I hope he’s down for good because I don’t think I can go through this again. Look at us, Roz. With Max there’s five of us. Five superhumans. And we barely made a dent in this guy!”

  There was a scuffling behind them. Roz turned. Pyrokine was climbing to his feet. Roz and Thunder turned to face him, fists clenched.

  Pyrokine held up his hands. “Don’t. I’m not going to fight you—you’ve won. I . . . Sorry about your hand.”

  They stood facing each other for a moment. Roz was torn between the urge to attack him and a powerful, inexplicable desire to run toward him and wrap her arms around him. And she could see in his eyes that he was caught in a similar confusion.

  “I know you,” she said. “But that’s impossible. We’ve never met before.”

  “I . . . I get the same sort of feeling.”

  Thunder looked from one to the other. “What’s going on here?”

  Pyrokine stepped closer to Roz, and reached out his hand toward her face.

  The moment his fingers brushed her cheek, she remembered. She remembered everything.

  They had met over a year ago. A chance encounter as they both rushed to save people from the same disaster, a collapsed suspension bridge in Arkansas.

  “Fabian. . . . You saved me,” Roz said. “I was trapped under a metal beam. It was crushing me, and you turned it into light.”

  Pyrokine clasped his hand to his mouth. “Oh my God. We went out. . . . We were together for months! How could I have forgotten that? I was falling in love with you!”

  Roz nodded. “And then . . . something happened. You left. I . . . We couldn’t be together. It was too dangerous.”

  “They locked me away,” the boy said. “There was an accident and I caused it. I know I did, but I don’t remember what it was. And then I forgot about you. How is that possible? You’re the only one I’ve ever loved and I forgot about you!”

  “You used to take me flying,” Roz said. “You’d hold my hand and we’d just take off. . . .” She smiled. “Remember how mad my brother got when he found out? He kept saying that we were too young to be in love and we didn’t know anything about the world and that . . .” She found that her mouth had gone dry. “It was him. It was Max. He said it would be for the best. He made us forget. He wiped our memories. He set you up!”

  With Pyrokine and Thunder following, she strode back to Max. He wouldn’t look at them. “Roz, I know what you’re thinking, but this isn’t the right time. It’s all I can do to keep Krodin unconscious.”

  Roz swore at him. “You messed with our minds! How many times, Max? Who else have you done this to? Josh? Is that why our brother is so different from other kids his age? He’s ten years old and he has no friends, no hobbies. He hardly does anything kids his age do. All he does is study! Have you been using your power on him too?”

  Pyrokine stepped in front of Roz, pushed his face close to Max’s. “When this is over you are going to pay. You set me up, got me sent to prison. You ruined my life!”

  Still staring at the Fifth King, Max said, “This is not the time.”

  Thunder took hold of Pyrokine’s arm, tried to pull him away. “Hate to agree, but he’s right. Save it for later.”

  Pyrokine shrugged free of Thunder’s grip. “No! How dare you, Dalton! Do you know what your lies did to me, to my family? You destroyed them! My folks lost their jobs, they had to move to a new town!”

  “Get him away from me, Roz,” Max said, his teeth gritted. “Right now.”

  “What you did to her is even worse!” Pyrokine screamed. “You twisted her mind, you sick son of a—”

  Max lashed out, struck Pyrokine across the face with his fist, sent him sprawling to the ground. Pyrokine reacted instantly—he launched a fireball at Max.

  Roz instinctively leaped at her brother, knocked him out of the fireball’s path.

  Max’s head smacked off the ground.

  And the Fifth King awoke.

  CHAPTER 33

  Two hours after it left, the helicopter carrying Lance returned to the power plant. The military had evacuated a twenty-mile radius around the battle zone: The fight was still raging.

  As they reached the perimeter the pilot said, “Sorry, sir. This is as close as we’re allowed to get.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says Colonel Morgan—it’s been declared a no-fly area. If we attempt to breach it, we’ll be shot down.”

  “Get him on the radio, will you?”

  A few seconds later, the pilot passed Lance a headset. “Go for it.”

  Lance put the headset on. It was too big for him and he had to adjust the microphone. “Colonel Morgan? This is Lance McKendrick.”

  The colonel’s voice came back crackling with static. “Who? No, not the kid Paragon brought in?”

  “That’s me.”

  “What do you want, McKendrick? We’re kinda in the middle of something here!”

  “We need permission to get to the battle.”

  “No chance, kid. You’re a civilian, and you’re not superhuman. I’m not putting anyone else at risk. That monster has taken everything we can throw at him and he’s still going strong. You cross the perimeter and we will use whatever force is necessary to bring you down.”

  “Wait. . . . In order to protect us from getting killed by the Fifth King, you’re willing to kill us? Wow, that’s smart.”

  “Stop wasting my time, McKendrick.”

  “So you’ve recovered from the infection, then? Oh, of course you have. Because it was me who got the cure to Quantum and got him to pass it on to everyone else. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  Lance thought he heard a muttered curse, then the colonel said, “All right. Get the pilot to drop you no closer than five miles from the site. Then he’s to fly back here—a copter is just another source of ammunition for the Fifth King. You’re on your own out there, Lance. I don’t know what good you’re going to be able to do.”

  “Me either, but I’m sure I’ll think of something.” He removed the headset. “Better take it in low and slow.”

  The pilot nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Lance smiled to himself. He decided he liked being called sir.

  The copter crossed the twenty-mile perimeter and a minute later, over the constant roar of the rotors, Lance heard a knocking on the copter’s hatch. He unclipped his seat harness and started to rise, then paused. “OK, I don’t know much about helicopters but I’m guessing that’s not normal.”

  Then a silver sh
ape darted around to the side of the canopy—and Paragon saluted to Lance. The armored hero pointed back to the hatch, and beckoned to Lance.

  “Is it safe to open the hatch at this height?” Lance asked the pilot.

  “Safe enough,” the man replied, “long as you hold on to something.”

  “OK. Steady as she goes. Or whatever the proper expression is. No loop-the-loops or sudden dives.”

  Lance got out of the copilot’s seat and opened the hatch. The wind rushed through the copter and he had to brace himself against the bulkhead to avoid being pulled out.

  Paragon had dropped back a little, and was now flying level with the hatch. He reached out his hand to Lance, and nodded.

  Why not? Lance asked himself. What’s one more crazy stunt after everything I’ve done in the past couple of days? He took hold of Paragon’s arm and jumped.

  We’re beaten, Roz thought. There’s no way we can stop him now.

  Max was once again trying to get inside Krodin’s mind, but it wasn’t working. The Fifth King had already adapted to his attacks. Even with Pyrokine’s aid, they were still only barely holding the warrior at bay.

  Exhausted, and in almost constant pain, Roz wanted nothing more than to lie down. She knew she couldn’t do that. She had to keep going.

  If Max is right about Krodin being able to adapt to any attack, then we need to find something he hasn’t encountered yet.

  Roz knew then what she had to do, and the thought of it sickened her.

  She walked over to Slaughter, who was still lying on the ground, feebly trying to remove Abby’s sword from her stomach. “You can’t remove it until your strength returns, and that won’t happen until you’re healed, right? And you can’t heal with the sword inside you.”