by Ben Mason
He started walking aimlessly. Sooner or later a super with x-ray vision was going to notice the corpses. It was best if the man who made them wasn’t present as well.
There was a risk to the Kimbles if he showed up again and pretended nothing had happened. On the other hand, if he stayed in Selenium he was liable to wind up on both the Watchers’ and the government’s radar. That meant Siv and Robert. He didn’t want to hurt either of them.
As he thought over his options in the shadows of his favorite city and once home, he realized the truth. He had to go back.
He had nowhere else to go.
Chapter 14
Christoph was getting impatient. Nervous was for those who were afraid, hoping to avoid conflict. Impatience was waiting for it to be over. Impatience gave a man excess energy, and Christoph used it to make sure to clean up the house during the week and placed his suit in the same hidden shelf as his parole phone and his memory book.
He had felt like a squirrel, stopping his dusting every five minutes and listening, wondering if Murakawa had decided to come after him. Once or twice he had grabbed his coat and car keys, determined to go back to Montmoore and get his revenge. Each time he stopped short. Trying to access the house without permission was impossible. Whatever safeguards Murakawa had in place, they were going to be bolstered by his access to the crystal. There was nothing to do but wait for the doctor to make a move.
Or get help.
Which meant asking Robert (and admitting what he had done) or asking Siv. The first was going to get him a jail sentence and the second a broken heart, so he refrained. On the other hand, Murakawa could end up like Avros, strung up in God knows what and held at bay for all eternity.
He shivered at the thought.
As he put on his black slacks and white dress shirt, he inspected his face in the bathroom mirror. There were no signs of ill health. No pain in his leg or his heart, and no feeling of the fog that had swallowed him when he dealt with Heat Streak. In fact, he thought he was healthier looking than he had been in years.
He even broke into a run when the doorbell rang. Taking a moment to compose himself, flattening his shirt with one hand, he opened the door.
“Mr. Morgan!” Julie said, running in, her backpack jangling as she went.
“Julie. What a surprise.”
She turned around, her eyes narrowed. The child’s clean jeans and a T-shirt meant she hadn’t been able to find trouble yet.
“You don’t sound happy to see me.”
“I am.”
“You look fancy,” she said, coming closer. “And you’ve been avoiding me.”
Christoph sighed, hurt. It was true. He had been avoiding the Kimbles. If Murakawa was watching him, then it meant any interaction could lead them into danger. The thought of the doctor losing all restraint against the average citizen was abhorrent, but so was his attack during the mission.
Julie stood on her tiptoes, sniffing the air. “And you’re cooking something that smells good.”
“That would be the cotoletta,” Christoph said shutting the door. “Breaded veal cutlet with fried potato slices.”
“Like fries?”
“Not quite,” Christoph said. Seeing Julie put him at ease and made him feel reassured about all that had gone down in the last few days. “How are your parents?”
“Good. Dad and Mom have been busy.”
Christoph nodded. John had a few friends left in the military defense industry who were former patients. He had no doubt their gratitude might veer into the “less than legal” route and end up supplying him with a few unique home defense items. And Wendy could accessorize them.
Julie disappeared and reappeared, grinning. “You have a date, don’t you?”
“Correct. And what do we do when we have compromising information, Julie?” he asked, holding up a finger.
“Blackmail!”
“What are your terms?”
“Some of the fried beef, please.”
“Done.”
The doorbell rang again. Christoph saw the sun turning orange in his windows. Siv was early. It was supposed to be after dark so none of the neighbors got starstruck and started tweeting out her location.
Moving toward the door, Julie close by, Christoph put on his best smile and opened the door.
It was Dominic. “Christoph, I’m in trouble.”
Dominic’s head was oozing blood, and as he staggered in he got it on Christoph’s floor and shirt. He stopped in front of Julie.
“Hi,” he said, holding on to the bannister.
“Hey,” Julie said, wide-eyed. “Want me to get you some bandages?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
“I’m shocked,” Christoph said. “You have manners.”
Dominic grunted as he slid down to the floor. His blue jacket was glazed over from the blood. Whatever had nicked Dominic had done a good job. Christoph waited until Julie ran upstairs for the first aid kit before crouching beside his apprentice. “What happened?”
“I sort of robbed the government.”
“You what?” Christoph hissed. “How much?”
Dominic tried to shake his head and gave up. “Not money. A thing. A helmet. Not like they were clean either. Stole it a while ago from some rebel Karpathians.”
Julie’s footsteps started rat-a-tat-ttating as she bounced down the stairs.
“Why?” Christoph asked.
“Got paid to do it. So much I was going to retire.”
The girl was down the stairs and kneeling before Christoph was able to ask more, the antiseptic and cotton balls in her hands. “Don’t worry, my dad’s a doctor. He showed me how to do this.” She hesitated. “It’s going to hurt.”
“Got it,” Dominic said.
The smell of the alcohol hit Christoph’s nose. He didn’t notice. He had to get upstairs. He had to get to his parole phone and plan how he was going to lie when he got Robert’s eventual call (because he had a feeling deep in his gut there was going to be a call).
The evening sun hurt his eyes as it hit the finale of its descent. He moved over to the blinds and closed them. In less than fifteen minutes night was going to fall. Once it did Siv would be on her way. Was she as excited as he was to start their romance over? She had never been one to keep him waiting even as a young woman. He suspected the years hadn’t changed her. He could imagine meeting her at the front door: Siv, you look lovely. Hmmm? Why, yes, that is one of Selenium’s worst criminals. An old acquaintance. Just stopped by to say hi, hide from the government, and bleed all over my things. How have you been?
Turning back around, he saw Julie wrapping the gauze around Dominic’s head. His former protégé was being polite around the child. For all his faults (and all of Christoph’s failures to correct them), he had a soft spot for children. Dominic didn’t go out of his way to protect them, but he didn’t allow for their abuse either.
“Done,” Julie said, standing up and stepping back to admire her work. “It’ll work for now. I think you need stitches.”
“Noted,” Dominic said, swaying as he stood up. He was slurring his words as well. Not good.
“Julie, can you be a dear and get my bottle of whiskey? I think Dominic here needs a nip. It’s on the shelf at the top so you’ll need the step stool.”
She nodded and disappeared.
Christoph didn’t wait. He got within an inch of Dominic’s ear. “You need to leave. Now.”
“You owe me.”
“And I’m doing what I can, but I have a date tonight.”
A grin came to Dominic’s face, making him look like a pale skeleton. “I see how it is.”
“No, you don’t,” Christoph said. A noise came from the kitchen and he glanced over. Lowering his tone, he resumed. “It’s Siv. As in Siv Moller.”
“Oh. Oh. I thought you guys broke up.”
“We did.”
“I thought she was married.”
“She was.”
“What happened?”
>
“Her husband died.”
Dominic’s grin got wider, if it was possible. Smug child. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I don’t. He had a heart attack. I can’t protect you from this, Dominic. You need to leave. We’ll meet up later.”
“There won’t be a later. I got attacked by my buyer, Christoph,” Dominic said.
This was surprising. The man had telepathy. If he failed to anticipate treachery, it reduced the entire field to a handful of names.
“Who paid you?”
“I got the drink,” Julie said, walking into the room fast, trying to balance the drink, which she had filled to the brim.
Dominic took it, gave her a small salute, and tossed it back, grunting.
The doorbell rang.
Hide, Christoph mouthed. Moving slowly he stared down at his shirt. There was so much blood. And if Siv found Dominic, then she was going to find out about Christoph going to Selenium as well. It was all over. He slowed down, allowing himself a few more seconds to appreciate what almost was before letting it fall apart all over again.
And that was what saved his life.
Because right before he reached it, the door exploded.
Chapter 15
Dominic and Julie had hidden behind a couch in the living room. It saved their lives. Had they been one half foot higher the door would have shaved off the tops of their heads. Instead, it slammed into the wall like a dart, sticking out halfway.
Christoph pushed away, scrambling on all fours until he found a wall and used it to slide up.
In stepped a thin man in a tweed suit with a bowler hat. One of his hands was open and smoking. His face was calm as he scanned the hallway.
“That’s my buyer,” Dominic said.
“Who is he?” Christoph asked, summoning his power.
“Rich.”
It sounded more like a description than a name. Knowing Dominic’s penchant for greed, it was.
Christoph moved forward and swung at the man, smashing his fist into the wall. Pulling it out, he saw the intruder strolling toward his living room, taking in the surroundings as if he was there for a home viewing.
He sprang forward, opening his hand into a slap, tripling his mass, putting his full body weight into it. The stranger’s head spun around 180 degrees as the fingers and palm buried themselves in his cheek. Christoph tried to pull his hand free, tried to push it to the other side. It was stuck.
An elbow slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him, hurtling him through the front door.
Thankfully, he landed on the grass (though the stains were going to be ghastly). He tried to get up and felt his ribs aching.
Who is this man?
“Hey, Christoph? I was kind of hoping to get you on your back after we had dinner.”
Wonderful. Just wonderful. He lightened his mass as gentle but firm hands helped him up. When his eyes opened there was Siv, sea-green eyes staring softly into his. She was wearing a wonderful little blue cocktail number and smelled like a garden.
“Siv. You look—”
A crash came from inside.
“We’re okay,” Julie yelled.
“You’re looking lovely.”
Glancing at the house, Siv sighed. “I need to get my shield?”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
She nodded once. “You get back in and give those two backup. I’ll be yours.” She ran to her car, not giving him the chance to respond. Before she had taken two steps he was rushing back.
Stepping back inside, he saw the entire bannister was smashed to pieces, as was the marble island in his kitchen (with all of the knives embedded in cabinets or in the floor). In the living room he saw Julie kicking at the suited man’s ankles and Dominic, held up in one hand by the scruff of his shirt, choking.
“What do you want? I got you the helmet?” Dominic asked, his voice rasping.
Rushing forward, Christoph dove. The stranger’s waist shrank to an inch letting him pass by, demolishing his fireplace. Soot buried itself his nose and eyes, making Christoph cough. Keeping them closed, he pushed his power out.
The fog started to come closer.
He hesitated as he felt it coming within reach. Julie was here. So was Siv. Did he want them to see what he was capable of?
And what are you capable of? What are you willing to do?
A roar came from the opening of his house. A green comet of fire tore the paint from the remains of his hallway, and somewhere in the distance Christoph swore he heard the sound of a horn blaring.
The stranger turned in time to be slammed with a large wooden shield, slamming him through the wall right above Christoph’s head. Dominic landed on the ground a second later, coughing, clutching at his throat and his torn clothing.
“Excuse me,” Christoph said as Siv bent to give him a hand up. The softness was gone from her eyes.
“What are you doing with your former apprentice?” Siv asked. Her face was twisted with bitter anger. In the corners of her eyes, Christoph thought he saw wetness. He knew what that meant and it hurt worse than any injury he had ever received.
“I’ll explain later,” he said.
“You’ll explain now.”
He stared at the ground. “You don’t have any shoes on.”
“You can’t beat bad guys in three-inch heels,” Siv snarled.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” Julie said, her eyes shining.
“Yes?”
“You’re awesome.”
“Aren’t you sweet?”
It was a tender moment. The blast ripping into their ears ruined it, along with the burst of energy hitting the green dome of Siv’s magic. The dust cleared and the stranger stepped forward. His face was a twisted wreck of metal on his left, his right side completely untouched.
Staring at the opponents before him, he took one step back, lifting his hands up in surrender. As he did, the ruined part of his face went soft and started to weave itself back together. Siv stepped forward, the runes in her shield glimmering. “You’re under arrest,” she said, cold iron in her voice.
Christoph hesitated. The fog was pulling at him, coaxing him to dive in again. Julie’s hand brushed his, giving him the strength to push it away.
The stranger opened his fingers with a smile, and light burned Christoph’s eyes blind. When they opened again, the man was gone.
Dominic stumbled up and blew out a sigh. “Well. That was crazy. Am I right?”
The rest of the group stared back at him.
“What?” he said.
“That’s my question,” John said, stepping through the rubble, a gun in his hand. “Walt, I think we need to have a talk.”
The group sat on the dust-plastered couch of the ruined house. The whole place smelled of dust and plaster and there was a film of particles dancing in the air. Christoph sat in his recliner with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
Not one of the tumblers either. A water glass. The bottle was in the other. He handed it across to Dominic, who took a long slug.
Siv had her shield placed on the coffee table, one hand touching the center. Her hands were glowing along with the runes. She had changed out of her dress and into jeans and a blouse. Clothing for the morning after, Christoph supposed. Not that it was going to happen now. She chanted in ancient Norse, letting her voice grow low and earthy. When she was done she pulled back, inspecting her work. “It’ll hold if he comes back. Should stop anyone else from listening in either,” she said.
“So you can make it work even if it isn’t strapped to your arm?” Julie asked, her eyes shining.
Siv nodded, giving the girl a large grin. Julie inched closer for a better look.
Betrayer. All those years of good villainy lessons wasted.
John nodded. He was wearing a Kevlar vest, camouflage pants with a multitude of pockets, and some sort of skintight exercise shirt. His gun—some sort of chrome-plated prototype with blue lights—was pointed at the floor. “All ri
ght, Dominic, was it? Start talking.”
Dominic eyed the bottle of whiskey, downed another plug, and put it down.
“I’m forty-seven. In super years that’s old. You get to a point where you think, ‘I don’t want to do this anymore.’ Or you see the young kids zooming around, doing all sorts of things you never thought of doing, and you realize time has passed you by. Add in some aching joints and scars that throb when it snows.” He shrugged. “I was ready to cash out.
“So there I am trying to figure out how to bail when Bowler Hat shows up. Doesn’t say a thing. Slides a letter over—like an old-fashioned typed and printed affair—telling me he needs a helmet from the government that they aren’t keen on giving him. The offer is for seventy million, tax free, and—here’s the real prize—a small tropical island with diplomatic immunity. No being able to capture me, no heroes hunting me down. I get some money and get to go home.”
“And all you have to do is rob a high-tech military installation?” John asked.
“Exactly.”
John held up the gun. “This came from a friend of mine who once had a life threatening-tumor. They said it was a lost cause. I proved them wrong. When I operated on him he was a one-star. Now he’s got three more. This,” he said, holding the gun up, finger off the trigger, “is one of those prototypes the government isn’t willing to admit even exist. How he smuggled this out and got it to me I can’t figure out. And you’re telling me a single guy who can move things with his mind—”
“And read thoughts,” Dominic said defensively.
“Yeah, whatever. Was able to stroll in and steal it? I don’t buy it. Not for a second.”
“Same here,” Siv said. She was talking to Dominic but glaring at Christoph. There was a simple rule with villains as far as heroes were concerned. If a villain had something bad happen around him while he appeared to be innocent, chances are he isn’t.
Christoph had never liked the rule. Mostly because it was accurate.
