“This isn’t the right way, Epic!” The firefighter had steel in his voice now as his form started to ripple with waves of cold. “We’re heroes, goddamit. We try to obey the law. He’s down, we turn him in, and the courts decide his fate.” Medusa’s snake heads hissed as if in agreement. “The fight’s over, we won. Let all those people with their fingers on the button see that we’re gonna play by the rules; let them know that they can trust us.”
“I am truly sorry, my son, my daughter,” Epic replied, taking on the persona of a god once more, “but have you not listened? Until we have fixed the system, we cannot trust it. Not with something so deadly that can so easily be unleashed.” Curling white streamers of energy began to float off of Epic’s form as he drifted closer and closer to the two of them. “I will ask you one last time, move aside and let judgment be cast down.”
“Ssstuff it up your ass, brujo,” Medusa hissed. “Ssstand down or I’ll turn you into ssstatuary.”
Eric seemed taken aback by the threat, but Epic showed no fear. There was a dismissive shake of the head and he flung his arms out, tendrils of pure white force flinging both of my friends away like gnats. Forcing my legs to move, I ran, one step after another. I felt so slow, so sluggish right now. The taste of copper in my mouth was not reassuring either, but I wasn’t going to let Eric have his kill.
I could hear Gerald’s quiet whimper as Epic raised a hand, crackling like Zeus’ thunderbolt as unnatural power gathered into it. Epic didn’t hear me approach, so intent was he on getting revenge on the bad man that took Mommy and Daddy away. Even as slow as I felt, I was still fast enough to sprint past Eric on the right and get in the way just as he let loose with that crackling ball of unreality.
Sparking and sputtering, it struck me dead in the chest, my strange immunity fighting against the concentrated ball of the new reality. Sparks raced through me, sending violent shudders through my traumatized body. I fell to one knee but somehow, I don’t know how, I found it in me to fall no further. After a moment, the energy dissipated, its charge spent.
“No.” My voice was low and hoarse, but I managed to speak. “You gave me your word.” I smelled the distinct smell of charred leather and burnt hair as wisps of smoke came off of me. “You wouldn’t harm him.”
“How can you defend that monster after what he did? How many more people have to die because of men like him?” Eric pointed a finger at me. “Will you take his blood on your hands as well?”
I can only think it was stubborn pride that forced me to rise back up onto both feet. It certainly wasn’t intelligence.
“Who elected you?” I asked. “What test did you pass to qualify you to judge the law? Who gave you the authority to enforce it? You’re not a god; you’re a man. A very, very powerful man, but a man like everyone else. You don’t have special rights or privileges.”
“I will not have this petty debate with you right now!” Epic floated towards me. We were practically nose-to-nose, though he seemed to levitate just a little higher, forcing me to look up to him. “Move aside or I will move you myself. It is not like you could stop me in the state you are in.”
“Maybe she can’t, but what about us?” came a voice from my right. It was Burnt Rubber, his engines revving and wheels kicking up turf. He wasn’t alone.
What neither of us had noticed, wrapped up in our personal argument, was that from the moment the battle had ended, all of the Push heroes still alive and conscious had begun to gather to this one barren spot in the ruins of the National Mall. Was it something in the Whiteout’s mental influence that drew them to this point of contention? Was it simply the natural instinct of people to be attracted to the sound of voices?
I didn’t know, but it seemed now that a new line was being drawn in the proverbial sand. Just as we had begun to debate at the rally, that same debate continued now, but with a man’s life in the balance.
I found myself not alone, but flanked by many of the Push heroes, maybe as many as half. All of my friends in the Atlanta Five stood with me, including, much to my relief, the Human Tank, who was pale and drawn from his injuries. His treads, however, were still rolling as the teen cyborg came to my left side. He gave me a weak nod, but his expression was firm.
Epic, to be fair, had a considerable line of supporters as well. Men and women wielding vast and dangerous powers were once again staring at each other warily. This was all on the verge of erupting once more.
I tried to shout something, but it came out as a hoarse mumble. A second later, I redoubled my efforts and managed to make my voice heard.
“Please! We’re at a tipping point, people.” I was surprised my voice was carrying so loud, until I realized that Tank was amplifying my voice through an internal speaker system. “We can start fighting again, sure. By God, though, if we do, they’ll finish it.” I pointed towards the Capitol building. From there, I could see where an errant blast or thrown debris had sheared off the famous Statue of Freedom from the top of the dome. “We may not all die, but any dream any of us have of doing right by the people of the world will. We’ll be mistrusted, hunted, and studied. Maybe even killed off one by one.”
“If we do not act, though,” Epic retorted, “then the deadliest Pushcrook in creation will be free to one day return. We do not even know how many people are already dead because of him. How many more can we let die because we failed to act?”
We glared at each other, eyes locked, as talk rippled up and down the line. Few changed their minds but, maybe it was my head trauma deceiving me, several more drifted across to my side, compared to Epic’s.
“Epic,” I said, “I have no doubt that if you wanted to, you could kill this man.” I gestured to Gerald, who was almost fetal behind me in fear. “I couldn’t stop you right now. The only thing stopping you is one last shred of decency. The last shred of the man I loved.” I searched for that man in Epic’s eyes. “This last time, do the right thing. If not for yourself, if not for me, do it for all these people who will die if you don’t.”
Epic stared hard at me, as if looking at me for the first time. His eyes then ran down the line of heroes facing off, then his gaze seemed to wander further. Was he looking at the police gathering into riot lines at the edge of the Mall? Was he looking into the houses of government beyond that, divining the intentions of the leaders of the nation? Could he see into the Oval Office or whatever hidey-hole the President was in, so close to issuing that final deadly order? Were his eyes reaching out even further, to all those millions watching and judging around the world? I didn’t know and I didn’t ask. Eventually, those eyes returned to me.
“This last time.” Epic looked stern, but Eric’s expression was downcast. “I just hope you live to regret this mistake, Indomitable.” He rose up into the air, turning towards those who had stood by him, letting his voice amplify into the roaring words of a god. “We will give the government a chance to show that they have been watching. A chance to let justice be served.” The demigod swiveled in the air, looking at something distant that I couldn’t perceive with my mortal eyes. “You, out there watching, take stock of what passes today and know that, if you choose poorly, my Crusaders will put an end to your corruption and lies.”
With that ultimatum, he rocketed off into the sky. Responding to the call of the pack, those that could fly or propel themselves fell into formation behind Epic. Those that couldn’t were lifted in spheres of white light and were pulled along in his glowing wake.
Spontaneously, all around me, the Pushed who had defied their would-be god erupted into cheers. I gazed for a moment at the glowing comets passing into the dull glow of the afternoon sun. Though neither of us had said it, I knew that, finally, in every way, our relationship was over. My last bits of love for the man that was Eric Flynn were gone.
I thought it would make me happy, but in the end, it was just an event that had come to pass. Maybe it was because our relationship was never entirely real. Oh, yes, the emotions I felt were real. The love, the passi
on, the arguments, all of it. The man, though, he was a lie. That lie was now cast away, leaving only Epic behind.
The copper taste in my mouth was only growing. I wiped my mouth and wasn't surprised to find it come away bloody. The only comfort I had was that I just needed to be awake for a little longer.
As my friends and new-found allies found their cheers replaced by a growing realization of the destruction all around them, I turned to Gerald Schuller, who now was standing behind us, still trembling in fear. He was a balding older man, with watery gray eyes. Every twitch told the tale of a man afraid of his own shadow.
“Thank you,” he said as I looked at him. “For saving my life, from both of them.” Gerald cast a glance skyward as he hesitantly moved closer to me. “You need a doctor.” I waved him off, even if he was absolutely correct.
“Later,” I gave him a bloody smile that was probably more frightening than reassuring. “Before I get drug away, I have to know … how did this happen?” I closed my eyes a moment to force my concentration to hold. “How did you, did he, know about me?”
“Well,” Schuller ran his hands over his bald scalp, “I was released and that was all fine, even with the whole Whiteout thing. When I met my parole officer, I was told he had been replaced by a new guy. I didn’t know the man, so it didn’t matter to me.” He cast about nervously, as if was expecting this man to jump out of the shadows right now.
“He said his name was Mr. Mackenzie. He kind of gave me the creeps. Very intense.”
“I don’t mean to push you but I think I may pass out really soon.” I shook my head. Stick with it, Irene, I told myself, you can’t blackout now. “So if you can –“
“Of course! Well, after our interview, he treated me to dinner. I think he slipped me something. I started to feel really bad and the bad man in me started to come out.” Fear washed over the poor man’s face. “Except this time, he did more than tell me to do things. He became real.”
Did he use some kind of psychosis inducing drug? Maybe just something that neutralized the anti-psychotics Schuller needed? Whoever this Mackenzie was, he was responsible, in my eyes, for a hundred counts of murder or more.
“Reaper?” I asked. It was obvious, but it was getting hard to think clearly and I wanted to be sure.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gerald answered. “Mackenzie was weird to the bad man. He couldn’t sense him with his powers and he gave off a strange aura.” He was obviously searching for words to describe something there was not words for. “You’re just like him, you know. Mackenzie explained what had happened about the Whiteout and the rally. He offered the bad man a chance to take it all over. The only things Mackenzie said that could stop the bad man were Epic and you, ma’am.”
“So,” I asked, feeling my speech start to slur, “this Mackenzie is behind all of this?” Things were going gray. I repeated the name in my head over and over. I had heard it before, but at that moment, my brain was like thick porridge; if you had asked me my name right then, I would have been hard pressed to answer. Gerald moved forward to catch me as I started to stumble. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he yelled for help.
Chapter 20 Pyrrhic
I am ashamed to admit that my memories of the events right after my talk with Gerald are incredibly hazy. I remember starting to pass out. It was impossible for me to hold on any longer, no matter how much willpower I had. I faded in and out of a twilight haze, with only the occasional moments of clarity. I know I was placed on someone or something with wheels. There was some sort of argument or discussion; there were definitely uniformed people involved, but I’ll be damned if I couldn’t tell if they were police, military, or something else. I think I may have been in an ambulance at one point, then there was the anxious sensation of being wheeled on a gurney surrounded by doctors and nurses. It was surreal, as if I was in one of those medical dramas when the trauma victim gets rushed to surgery. That’s when everything completely faded away.
The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. There was a moment of panic when I tried to lift my head, only to find my neck locked in place, but a second’s pause made me realize I was in a neck brace. It took some effort to push up onto my elbows to see what kind of state I was in.
I would have gone by feel, but I felt like both my body and my brain were wrapped in cotton. I didn’t even want to know how many drugs I had pumping into me. By weight, I could tell one forearm was in a cast. I could only attribute the tightness in my torso from having my ribs wrapped up. I was dressed in a flimsy hospital gown and covered up, so there wasn’t much else I could see.
What I could see was that I wasn’t alone. Even if I were blind, the sudden cry of my name would have clued me in, though at the time I wasn’t sure which name was called out, real or assumed.
The Human Tank looked pretty good for a teenager who tried to run over a demigod. He had one of his goofy grins, staring at me. His outcry seemed to rouse a snoring Duane Brooks, his feet propped up in an empty chair. My dazed mind wondered how Tank had managed to get his unwieldy treads into a hospital room. I could tell there was another occupied bed here, but my total lack of neck swivel kept the occupant’s identity a temporary mystery. As I tried to get my mouth to work enough to smile, I realized one last oddity. My mask was still secured to my face. I reined in the temptation to start making noise about the absurdity of that fact.
“Yes! You’re awake and you’re not in a coma and everything is going to be biscuits and gravy!” It was a strange proclamation, but I didn’t dissuade him. Instead I managed to put a finger to the bed controls and ratcheted my head up so I could comfortably see the room.
“Hot damn, you had us worried,” Brooks said. He had bags under his eyes and he needed a shave. “Shit, the doctors said you probably should have been dead on arrival.”
“Don’t worry her, Duane,” came Rachel Choi’s voice from the other hospital bed, still annoyingly out of view. “Let’s just be happy that she is going to be okay, yes?”
“Everybody else says hi and glad to see you’re awake and great news and all sorts of stuff like that and also that they’ll try to get here to see you as soon as they can but right now there’s still a lot of clean up and fall out from the big fight and that they’re sorry if they don’t get here right away.”
That managed to make me smile. Even though I knew he was alive, I was still worried that our stunt in the National Mall might have permanently injured the kid. I was glad to see that worry was unfounded.
“Thanks, Tank,” I croaked. I wet my lips and tried again, sounding more like myself, only half-dead as opposed to completely dead. “Do I want to know how long I was out?”
“No, but I’m gonna tell you anyway, Doc.” Duane tossed me a copy of what I assumed was the day’s Washington Post. It was the Sunday edition. What caught my eye wasn’t the date, though, but the front page stories. They were all about the battle on the National Mall, the legislative and political fallout, and continued sightings of Epic and his proclaimed Crusaders for Justice. I picked up the paper in my functional hand and stared at it. “A lot has gone down in these past few days.”
“Come on now, Duane,” Rachel said. “Indy just woke up and I’m sure she is confused enough as it is.” She was addressing me now.
“All you should be doing is focusing on getting on your feet again. We can figure everything else out after that.” Tank nodded emphatically in agreement.
For a moment, I wanted to argue with them. My inner scientist wanted to know what had happened and analyze every piece of news. Unfortunately, my mind wasn’t the only thing with a say in matters.
My body had other plans and far greater needs. I had glanced at the first article and meant to ask a question about the legislation, but it came out sounding incomprehensible. I was so sleepy and making my lips move turned into more effort than it was worth. Brooks made a ‘huh’ sound, but before I could try to clarify, I tumbled back to dreamland.
When I next woke up, it was with a star
t, roused from some deep, horrible nightmare that I couldn’t remember. The sudden movement alone alerted the room to my condition; the cry of fear wasn’t necessary but beyond my control. In an instant, I was surrounded on all sides by worried faces. The sudden startle of fear seemed to have triggered my hyper-awareness again; I was vividly aware of everything without the hint of the drug-induced stupor I had been in before.
Medusa, Extinguisher, and Duane were now crowded around my bed, all talking over each in other in an effort to find out what was wrong. I raised my good hand for silence as I tried to calm myself down and drop out of my accelerated state. All the adrenaline and other hormones racing through my traumatized body couldn’t be helpful to my overall condition.
“I’m okay,” I said. My voice still sounded like an alien toad-beast to me, but at least I could be heard easily. “Just a nightmare.” The thought of that unremembered terror brought new phantom pains to my neck. I made an incoherent grumble and asked, “How long now?”
“Only a few hours this time,” Duane remarked as he sat back down. “The kid went to get some shuteye himself.”
“Yesss, he’sss been here full time sssince they put you in a room.” Medusa stayed standing, but leaned back to give me space. Her shoulder was bound in gauze and lines were scored into her fine scales. “We ssent him off to sssleep now that you’re okay.”
“I know he passed it along,” the fire fighter said, “but I just want to say how sorry I, well, we are.” Extinguisher rubbed his cheeks with his fingers, looking almost as exhausted as Duane did. “We all wanted to be here for you, but between the lack of room and, well, all the time we’ve had to spend both cleaning up, debriefing with the government, and –“
The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable Page 18
