The Negative Man_Twilight Days

by Jeremy Croston

  I saw three men slumped over what looked to be a body. Father Reigart saw me walking towards them and came over to cut me off. “Woods is dead, Jericho. Let’s get you out of here; some on the police force still consider you a top-level threat.”

  Nothing he just said made sense. That didn’t stop me from allowing him to lead me into one of the back buildings. Once there, Reigart began to fill me in. “The moment that woman disappeared with you, the ambush fell into place. That bastard Parker Lattimore showed up and he and Kyle began to fight.”

  “Are you allowed to use the word bastard, Father?”

  “When the situation calls for it,” he snapped. “I’m sorry, Jericho. This is all my fault to begin with.”

  I was curious why he felt guilty. “Tell me what happened before we got here.”

  He sighed, and the powerful, large man took a seat on one of the concrete benches in the storage room. “That woman, Destiny she called herself, approached me this evening. She said it was imperative that she talked to you and needed my help in getting your attention.”

  Even poor Father Reigart wasn’t immune to her natural charm. “Is that when the fire started?”

  “I don’t even know what happened. One minute we’re talking and she’s leading me out to the gardens and the next, the church is ablaze.”

  “You can’t beat yourself up,” I tried to comfort him. This was an odd arrangement, it was usually the reverse happening. “I think we should be lucky that Parker didn’t kill you and Rich before I got here.”

  “Rich wasn’t even here at first. He only showed up after that Destiny had me in the gardens, content to wait for you to show up.”

  “Oh?” I asked.

  “He didn’t get a chance to say what he wanted, obviously, but it appears judging by the look in your eyes, you had an agenda, too.”

  There was never hiding anything from Reigart. The man was exceptionally good at what he did. “I do, but I think that can wait.”

  The door to our little hideout opened and it was Rich who entered. “The cops are swarming over there. As a fugitive, it was wise for me to take cover with you guys.”

  “It seems we have some time on our hands,” Reigart observed. “Maybe both of you can tell me why you wanted to see me tonight.”

  “If it’s okay with Jericho, I’d like to go first, Mike.”

  I had no problems with that. “Everything okay, Rich?”

  “No, it’s not.” He then addressed Reigart more than me. “Some of the guys think I’m crazy, Mike, but I want to go get Adam Morales. I think it’s time we brought him back to the light.”

  “Unless something’s changed, Rich, do you even have a way to do it safely?” Reigart asked.

  That’s when he pointed at me. “I think with the right minds on the job, we can think of a way.”

  Chapter 11 –

  Friday Evening; St. James Cathedral

  “You’re telling me that your grand plan involves me thinking of a way to help a super I’ve never met before?”

  Even as my blood pressure was beginning to rise, Rich was quick to point out something that I’d long forgotten. “When you showed up at Black Lagoon, I had no idea who the hell you were or what you could do. But, when a friend asked me for help, I did him a solid.”

  Ahhh damnit. “I hate when you’re right, Rich.”

  “Get used to it. When you’ve been around as long as I have, being right is just a side effect of survival.”

  “If I may,” Father Reigart interjected. “I don’t mean to sound like a crazy old man, but does Adam even want to come back, Rich? I know you’re trying to atone…”

  “Careful, Mike,” Rich growled. Hmmm, that was an interesting encounter that sprung up a few questions about their friendship. “I’m sure of it. The man has a family, people who he cares about. That prison is meant for someone else, not him.”

  I carefully ignored the subject of Ellison Staley, or Volkkenkrüger, as they called him. “What can you tell me about Adam’s condition? If I’m going to help, I need real ream information.”

  Rich went over in great detail their encounter in Dungeon Bay. Both the Father and I sat there, quiet as could be, as he explained how, at first, he was a mindless monster. Even Erin, in his Titan form, was pushed to the limits when the confrontation escalated.

  “Once all the poison is used up that spurs on his change, he returns to the man he once was. That is, until it replenishes itself again,” Rich explained.

  It was hard to imagine a man with tubes implanted in his arms and legs. “The toxin that initiates the change is carried in his blood? Damn, Victory is one vile man.”

  “Wouldn’t it be prudent to get a blood sample from him?” Reigart asked. “With that, I’m sure that Kyle and Wade’s son, Wilson, could come up with something.”

  Ahhh, I saw my role in this. “You need me to go to Dungeon Bay and get the sample, don’t you?”

  “It’s as Reigart said, we got the brains up here to fix him. We just need someone with the muscle to get the sample.”

  If I was going to do this, I’d need to get my Negative Man suit back together. I had no idea where my last one was, seeing as how the last time I was wearing it, I got blown to Kingdom Come. At least I had my workshop under gl-O-bal to go back to.

  That’s when Father Regiart dropped the biggest surprise on me. “I’ve kept this for safe keeping, just in case you ever came back, Jericho.” He walked over to a pile of boxes and opened up the second one. It was like he knew where my mind had gone to. “I think you’ll like how the elements have roughed it up.”

  The copper mask I’d made when I was still trying to recoup all my memories was placed in my hand. The patina the metal had taken on gave it an almost sinister look. Half the mask was streaked with black marks, probably as a result of the explosion. The other half still had places where the copper shined through. To say I was ecstatic to get this back would’ve been an understatement.

  I slipped it on, over my face. “It still fits.”

  “Does this mean you’ll do it?” Rich asked.

  “I’ll do it. I just need to rebuild my suit before I go down.”

  A smile broke across the man’s face. “I think the police activity is starting to break away. I’m going to head back over to that Wonderton kid’s place. That’s where the rest of the guys are.”

  I gave Rich a firm handshake. “I’ll come knocking when I’m ready to go.”

  With that, he left me alone with Father Reigart. “What’s on your mind, Jericho?”

  “Hell Father, I don’t even know where to begin. Turns out my dead dad is alive; not just alive mind you. He’s one of the most powerful supers the world’s ever seen.”

  “Volkkenkrüger?” he asked, quietly.

  My head shake confirmed that. “I knew him as Ellison Staley. He’d been a kind man to me, keeping me safe from the worst that Project Jericho had to offer a young child back then.”

  “I can’t even imagine what you endured during that phase of your life. And at an age where development was so important.”

  The government wanted development, that was for sure. “The man risked his life and one day we escaped and began living a normal life. I mean, yeah, we were on the run, but we were happy. That all came crashing down when I came home one day and I saw his dead body slumped against the wall.”

  Father Reigart rubbed his beard as he listened. “I’m afraid to ask what Ellison’s power is?”

  He addressed Volkkenkrüger by the name I’d known him by. That meant something to me. “This is where it gets tricky. He can warp a person’s reality. He can make you see what he wants you to, and no matter the evidence, you believe his vision is the real one.”

  “My God,” he mumbled. “Are you telling me that even confronted with Ellison still alive, your mind wants to believe he is dead?”

  “I can’t explain it. I saw him, talked to him, but right now, my brain keeps telling me that he’s dead.”

  Reigart
was at a loss for words. “I can’t even imagine, Jericho. The torment must be hell.”

  “He’s my dad, Father. No matter whatever else happened, the man cared for me and protected me. I even took on his last name for crying out loud!”

  Reigart wrapped a large arm around me and guided me over to a chair to sit. “You’re in a safe place, Jericho. I learned from a friend that confessions can be taken anywhere. What’s said here—well it stays here.”

  I mumbled a quick thank-you. I hadn’t been this emotional in a while. “He wants me to join him, to help him see his vision through, the rise of the supers and what not.”

  “For every step forward this great country takes in the freedoms of supers, somehow we manage to take another two steps back.”

  If that wasn’t ironic. “To top my return off completely, I met with President Whisnant earlier. That was the real reason for my visit, not Ellison.”

  He ignored the president part, sticking to the confession about my dad. “Ellison Staley is a part of who you are, good or bad. Trying to avoid what his return means will only harm you in the long run.”

  “Stop acting like you know me,” I said, trying not to chuckle.

  “I won’t push anymore tonight, but this shouldn’t be our last conversation on the matter.” He gave me the stern eye as he said it. “Tell me about this clandestine meeting with Whisnant. We’re all under the impression he’s up to something big and potentially dangerous.”

  “What if I told you he detailed out his plans completely and they involved me?”

  Reigart’s eyes got very big. “Maybe this is the subject we should’ve started with,” he joked.

  I laid everything out for him, including pulling the schematic that Whisnant left behind at the bar. Reigart didn’t make a sound as I told him the plans and then gave him my professional opinion on the chances of success. When I finished, I expected to see maybe a look of disgust or anger.

  What I saw was a look of hope.

  “I know you take my words of faith with a grain of salt, Jericho.” I tried to protest but he stopped me. “It’s okay, everyone does. How can we believe what we don’t see, they tell me? This—this is tangible. You are being given a chance to do something profound.”

  I wanted to scratch my head. “You believe in what Whisnant wants to do?”

  “The opposite,” he responded. “You are being given a chance to be the hero you were always destined to be. Not the shadow legacy you built yourself before; a true defining moment where you put your foot down and say no. Stand up to the president and end his madness. And make sure you do it with as many eyes on you as possible.”

  There was the Father Reigart I knew. “I wasn’t sure, you know? Maybe if I had Wilson look over the specs and fix it, maybe this would’ve been the way to make sure no more supers like Volkkenkrüger and myself were out there, causing problems.”

  Reigart opened the door and saw that for the most part, the police activity had calmed down. Only the crime scene investigators were still here, along with other techs going over the area for evidence. The two of us left the storage shed quietly and walked out, away from the main cathedral building, along the back of the grounds.

  It had to be past midnight by now. “I’m surprised you don’t charge after-hours fees.”

  “You don’t have a fortune anymore, so what would be the point?” he jested back.

  “I thought the rich man was the one whose heart was filled with joy and his pockets were empty.”

  His eyes twinkled as I butchered some proverb he’d probably used many times over. “I’ll certainly give you an A for effort. And, if that is the case, I see a rich man in front of me.”

  I don’t know if I’d say my heart was filled with joy, but the anger and hate from days long ago no longer resided there. “I’m still a bit nervous, Father.”

  “Volkkenkrüger, or Ellison, I should say?” he asked.

  “Whatever you want to call him, Volkkenkrüger or Ellison, he’s my dad. I just don’t know that I can stand up to my dad, if it comes to that.”

  We’d reached the end of the church’s grounds, the side that butted up to Mengel Drive. That’s where we stopped. “If anyone asks you to stand up to the man who raised you, would you consider that person a friend?”

  That was a loaded question. Kyle had pretty much asked me to do that by infiltrating his organization. “You’re referring to Kyle.”

  “This is a tricky situation, the two of you have.” That was the God’s honest truth. “Do you stand up to your father as a way of redeeming the guilt you still hold for killing John Wonderton? Or does the love that fills your heart mean more to you than the guilt that eats at you?”

  “I can’t answer that,” I said, truthfully.

  “This is a tough situation, Jericho. No matter your choice, some will abandon you.”

  The moment those words touched my ears, I remembered Volkkenkrüger’s declaration to me on the dock. Those you call friend will turn their back on you, he had said.

  I gave the Father one last nod and walked off into the early morning, lost in my own thoughts.

  Chapter 12 –

  Saturday Afternoon; gl-O-bal/Staley Industries

  With my work stalling on my new suit, I turned my attention to the afternoon news. Apparently Pacific Station had a new mayor since my last visit: Frank Boosman. The taller, older man was standing behind a podium downtown, his expensive suit looking crisp and clean. His silver hair was perfectly combed against the features of his face.

  Behind the well-to-do look he was trying to show, his eyes told a different story. This Mayor Boosman was a shrewd man, a man who had the nerve to do whatever was necessary. His words were about to prove that.

  “It’s a very sad day,” he started. Behind him, a picture of Chief Brad Woods appeared. “We lost a good one last night. A good man, a family man. We lost him to the cowardly actions of a powered person gone rogue.”

  There it was. The blame was about to be laid out.

  He went on. “A former detective, no less. Parker Lattimore. This wolf in sheep’s clothing shot Chief Woods in cold blood, no mercy to be given. Well Mister Lattimore, if you are watching today, know that the same measures you took will be taken against you. My officers have been instructed to shoot on sight; no quarter to be given.”

  “No quarter to be given?” I asked myself, as I was alone. “I’m not sure if I like this guy or if I should roll my eyes.”

  A shorter man appeared on the television. This guy had all the hallmarks of a former military man; the crew cut and the trademark snarl. He stepped up beside Mayor Boosman.

  The mayor placed his hand on his shoulder. “Times like this call for action. Ladies and gentlemen of the city, allow me to introduce you to our new chief, Chief Timothy Berkheimer, former master sergeant in the Army.”

  Flashes from the pool of reporters went off as cameramen did their best to capture the new face of order for Pacific Station. I had a lot of concerns.

  Berkheimer stepped up to a second microphone beside the mayor. “My first order of business is to absolve any connections these rogue vigilantes have with the men who wear the shield. I don’t care who you are, if you’re not wearing a badge, you’re part of the problem.”

  “I don’t think that’ll go over well with Kyle,” I wagered.

  “Second,” the man growled. “Powered people in our city will soon have two choices: step into the light, or be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. If you’re a good citizen, you have nothing to hide.”

  “I see you’re watching this smut,” a voice said, coming off the elevator.

  It was Wilson. He was a bit early as I reached out to him to help me come up with a new suit to build. “These two seem very… bitter?”

  He placed a big bag down on one of the workbenches closest to the elevator. The heft of the bag made a thumping sound against the metal. “A lot of us were concerned when Boosman was elected. He ran a very unpartisan campaign, but r
umors of his lack of compassion towards supers kept bubbling up. The hire of this Berkheimer fellow seems to put that into more of the fact and less of the rumor category.”

  I’d heard enough. Whatever those clowns were planning, it wasn’t going to stop me from being me. “So, what’s in the bag?” I asked.

  With the press conference no longer a distraction, Wilson opened up his bag full of surprises. “These are some prototypes I’d been tinkering with. I thought maybe a few of them might help.”

  After his brilliant hand that I was currently sporting, Wilson’s prototypes would always be a welcome part of anything I was up to. “These look like some fun toys.”

  He picked up the first one. It was a black armguard; I couldn’t tell what it was made out of though. “Don’t tell Kyle, but I perfected a blend of Kevlar and aluminum. Lightweight, flexible, and damn near impervious to blades or low impact projectiles, this guy pairs perfectly with the match glove.”

  “Glove, as in singular?”

  He shook his head at me. “Do you know how much it cost me to get just one of these babies right? So yeah, just one set. Use it to protect that million-dollar hand you’re in love with.”

  Wilson handed me the sleeve and dug out the glove as well. I put them on; the fit was damn near perfect. “Will it conduct the Stormfall energy?”

  His eyes got very big. “It’ll do one better. That glove, with the way the aluminum is weaved in, should give you precision control over your energy. Jericho, you should be able to form shapes in your hand. You could have an energy sword if you wanted.”

  It was my turn to have surprise and excitement wash over me. “Tell me you’re not jerking my chain, Wilson.”

  “Try it.”

  Without a second thought, electricity rushed into my arm. The moment in entered the sleeve, the aluminum conductors took over all the way into the glove. I couldn’t explain it, even if I wanted to. The finite control the energy was giving me was nothing like the unruly Stormfall energy I’d known before. I snapped my hand closed and the dark blue energy immediately took the shape of a long, thin sword. Extending out at about three feet, I marveled at the way the sword stayed stable.