by LE Barbant
Tim wound up, preparing to lash out in a wide arc when something pulled on the chain behind him, yanking him to the pavement. Pain shot through his body. He tried to roll over, but his shoulder had been dislocated, the bone pulled from its socket. Grunting through the pain, he pushed himself off the ground using his one good arm and stood, face to face with a second mechanical warrior.
Whereas the tank was fully encased in metal plating, Tim could see the man opposite him was flesh and blood. This one was smaller and instead of armor, his body was supported by an exoskeletal frame. His head was covered by what looked like a modified motorcycle helmet, complete with black visor.
“What the hell are you, off-brand Megaman?”
“Hello, hicktown. Not many people walk away from a beating like the one we gave you. Glad to see you’re willing to set things right.”
Without warning, the man charged at Tim, moving faster than humanly possible. Pneumatic pumping sounds accompanied each step. Tim raised his arm to defend himself, but the flurry of punches moved too quickly for him to evade. The giant tank suit was slow and deliberate in its movements. The exoskeleton was lightning fast, but gaps in the frame left its wearer vulnerable to a counterattack
His right arm useless, Tim pivoted, aiming a kick at an exposed area in the fighter’s side. But the man was prepared for it. His left arm trapped Tim’s leg between it and his body. Tim tried to pull free, but he was balancing on only one foot and the man’s arm was unyielding. The suit took advantage of Tim’s vulnerable state. With his right fist, the man aimed two mechanically enhanced punches at Tim’s thigh. He screamed as his femur cracked in two.
Tim fell to the ground, his vision dark around the edges. He sensed Elijah, still off to the side trading blows with the tank. He didn’t know where Chem was, but he hoped that he’d gotten Lainey to safety.
Tim looked up and saw his reflection staring down at him from a black visor. He heard a slight pneumatic hiss as the exoskeletal suit lifted a heavy boot into the air.
“Hoorah, soldier.”
Tim closed his eyes, wondering if he would feel the impact.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
We’re done for.
Elijah dodged another vicious swing, just barely ducking out of its way. He was worn out and his lungs burned, not from his transformation but exhaustion. The tank’s attacks were methodical and relentless, and the historian was on his last leg.
He heard a scream and risked a glance over at Tim. A second, smaller unit stood over top of him, knee raised in the air.
He’s gonna curb stomp him.
Elijah ran toward his friend, but the tank cut in front, blocking his path. Elijah tried a juke, stepping left before rolling right. But his move was obvious and the large mech suit wrapped its arms around the adjunct, pinning them to his side. It lifted him off the ground and squeezed. All the air left Elijah’s body.
Elijah struggled against its grip, but the suit’s arms were unyielding, a vise crushing the life from him.
Suddenly, a hissing sound filled the air. Something landed on the tank’s head, hard. With Elijah in its grasp, the suit was already off balance. It stumbled backwards. Elijah glimpsed a streak of yellow launch itself from the tank’s falling form toward Tim and the other suit.
The ground shook as the armor landed. Its arms loosened upon impact. Elijah took advantage of its momentary lapse and with a surge of effort broke free from its grip.
He sat up, straddling the suit, and began whaling on its armored head. Even with its protection, Elijah knew that whoever was inside this shell must be feeling something. Elijah’s fists were meteors, smashing into its face again and again.
Elijah looked up and saw Rita, her bright yellow raincoat whirling behind her as she attacked the smaller suit. The thing was fast, but clearly thrown by the presence of this demon-like woman.
Distracted, Elijah overlooked the large metal fist coming up from underneath him. The metal ton slammed into the side of Elijah’s head, sending him reeling.
Stars swam before his eyes; his vision clouded.
*****
The next thing he knew, Chem was kneeling, gently shaking him. With a groan and the chemist’s assistance, Elijah found his feet.
“Lainey?”
“Don’t worry, she’s safe. But we gotta get you out of here. Otherwise the revolution will be televised.”
A flash drew Elijah’s attention and he saw that a crowd had gathered, every member recording the action.
But the metal suits were nowhere to be seen.
The two men stepped over a pool of molten steel and headed toward their wounded friend. Steam rolled off Elijah’s arms, as he and Chem lifted Tim from the ground. He hopped on one leg with an arm around Chem’s shoulder. The trio ducked into a nearby alley, away from the crowd, and limped toward their home on Tenth Ave.
“I can’t believe I let that bitch save me a second time. Where did she run off to?” The three struggled up their rickety porch steps. Tim’s pale face pivoted, looking around for Rita.
Panting, Chem helped Tim transition to the porch’s railing as he dug into his coat pockets.
“She’s gone. I made sure Lainey was safe before coming back, but as I did I saw that large suit-thing take off with Rita in its arms.”
Elijah felt sick to his stomach. “And you just let them go?”
Chem shook his head, pulling out a set of keys. His hands shook as he searched for the right one. “What the hell was I supposed to do? You two looked like you’d been spit out by a tornado. Me against that thing? It would be a bloodbath.”
“Things.”
Chem and Elijah looked at Tim. His right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. “There were two of them. And you made the right call. Rita’s one tough SOB. She can handle herself.”
“What next?” Elijah asked as Chem pushed the door open. The two supported Tim as they moved awkwardly through the entryway. “And how the hell did they find us?”
Chem reached over and flipped on the light switch. Elijah almost dropped Tim at the sight of two figures standing in the middle of the room—a remarkably handsome man and a woman, with long dark hair.
She gasped at the sight of the blood-covered crew.
“What the hell?” the historian blurted. “Willa?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Just leave me on the floor or something. I’ll be alright,” the man in the flannel said, as the others carried him across the threshold.
A single window AC unit struggled to keep up with the humidity. A musty smell wafted from the basement into the first floor. Rhett looked for exits, as was his custom.
The room looked more like a low-grade college dorm than a place where guys in their thirties lived. He stepped aside as the two men eased the third onto a couch; a grunt exited the man’s throat. Rhett crossed the room, planting himself in a corner; from there he could take in the entire scene and make sure his back wasn’t to anyone.
“Nice place,” Rhett said, breaking the silence.
“Who the hell is he? And where the hell have you been?” The bearded man’s eyes were frantic as he shouted at Willa.
She approached and pulled him into a hug, holding on a little too long. Rhett could see him stiffen at her touch, then relax after a moment. There was evidently something between them. She stepped back, and smiled. “It’s good to see you, Elijah. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
An orange cat wove its way through the woman’s legs. She crouched, taking it in her arms. It purred as she ran her slender fingers over its head and down its back. The cat arched in tandem with the strokes—tail waving like a flag. “Hey, Cat. Did you miss Mommy? It’s okay, I’m here now.” Baby talk was strange coming from the woman Rhett had just stopped from murdering his boss.
The other man, the tall skinny one, kept his eyes locked on Rhett. He wasn’t trusted here, but that was nothing new. He wasn’t trusted anywhere, especially since he had been working for Dobbs. He’d have to win them
over. “I’m Rhett,” he said, nodding at him.
The guy looked him over like an appraiser on “Antiques Roadshow.” Rhett usually made a great first impression, but the timing was horrible. “Look, my buddy’s bleeding out on my sofa so, as you can imagine, now is not really the time for us to play host. Sorry for your inconvenience.”
Rhett liked this guy already. “No time even for the secret handshake?”
Half a smile formed on the man’s face. “Nope. We’ll give you the code words later.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not bleeding out, I just might not be able to ever walk again.” Tim tried to prop himself up but collapsed in a fit of pain.
Chem walked over and placed a hand on Tim’s forehead. “Shit. Elijah, I need you over here. He’s burning up. Can you grab my bag from the basement? We probably shouldn’t move him again.”
Rhett reached across his body and squeezed his left shoulder with his right hand. Tightness across his back was commonplace—it had started with the tension of his new job in the city—but now was more of a nervous tic. He needed to compose himself. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”
“Be my guest.” Chem nodded down the hall. “But make sure you put the seat down. Willa’s home.”
Rhett let himself into the bathroom after checking the surrounding rooms. He needed a minute alone. He had to think. Not knowing his next move always made him nervous, and the inclusion of new characters into this grand narrative was something unexpected. He was out of control, and control was his art.
“What are you going to tell them?”
Rhett glanced over his shoulder. He saw his brother, Paul, leaning against the sink. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Yeah. I’m stealthy like that,” Paul said with a smile. “You can trust them, you know. I realize that’s not really your thing, trusting people. But these folks are good people, they’re here for the same reason we are. I know they are. They’ve been drawn. They just don’t know it.”
Rhett gritted his teeth, trying to piss while his brother engaged him in conversation.
“I thought we were here to help stop these monsters. That’s what you told me.”
“I never said that. I knew we came to Pittsburgh because of them, but you were the one who jumped to the conclusion that they were the problem.”
Rhett nodded. “And now it turns out that they’re not monsters at all, just some academics with strange abilities.”
“So?”
“So, what?” Rhett asked.
Rhett stared at the plastic flower wreath hanging over the toilet. It was most certainly a vestige left behind by the previous owners. These guys didn’t look like the fake plastic flower types. He tried to imagine the absence of his brother, so that he might actually empty his bladder.
“Believing isn’t so hard, brother” Paul said. “You going to tell them about the thing?”
“Are you crazy? That’s the only thing I’m definitely not going to tell them.”
“But they might be able to help. You know, make it right. They might know about it.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. I do this stuff for a living.”
“What, manipulate people?” Paul asked.
Rhett laughed. “It’s a fine line between manipulation and influence. That’s what they call leadership these days.” Rhett paused trying to answer nature’s call. “Paul?”
“Yeah?”
“It seems like the plumbing’s not working with you standing over my shoulder. Can you give me a minute?”
“Not like the old days of sword fighting, hmmm?” He laughed. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Paul disappeared and immediately Rhett started to pee.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Being close to Willa felt electric. Elijah didn’t realize exactly how much he’d missed her until he saw her standing in his living room. He stepped away, angry at himself for feeling so drawn.
Willa was complicated.
He and the poet together made for complication times ten. Over the past several months his resentment toward her grew. While he focused on settling in, laying roots in Pittsburgh, she ran. She’d convinced him that his powers were a gift to be stewarded for good; now she was bent solely on vengeance—on her own desires. But he couldn’t stay angry. Whatever it was, his connection with the woman remained strong.
It didn’t help that she looked good.
Really good.
Chem stood over Tim, who had all but passed out on the couch. Elijah assumed it was from the pain. His own body ached. As his skin cooled down, the throbbing increased. He wouldn’t have stood a chance without his powers. Ford was truly an impressive specimen.
Elijah pointed toward the occupied bathroom. “Willa, who is this guy?”
Her eyebrows came together, forming a V over her nose. “He’s the Mayor’s speechwriter. I ran into him on a mission.”
“Mission?” Chem said over his shoulder.
“It’s a long story,” she said in Chem’s direction. “But he’s a friend of mine—well, sort of. I told him about you and me, about our powers.”
“What? How long have you known this guy?”
Willa paused. A weird look passed across her face. “I…I met him this afternoon.”
“Dammit, Willa! How could you be so stupid?” Elijah ran a hand through his graying hair as he began pacing the room.
Willa sat down on the arm of a chair. She looked like she was going to be sick. “I don’t know. He seemed so trustworthy.”
“OK, where are we?” The stranger walked back into the room, slamming the brakes on the conversation.
Elijah stormed across the room and pushed Rhett up against the wall. “We’re at the part where you tell us who the hell you are and what you’re doing here.”
Willa leapt across the room and grabbed Elijah’s shoulder. “Don’t hurt him.”
“You don’t even know this guy, Willa. He could have led those things right to our door.”
The man smiled. “It’s not her fault. Please, I can explain everything.”
Elijah held on for a second, before letting go of the newcomer’s suit jacket. He returned to pacing the room.
Rhett calmly found a seat and crossed his right leg over his left, like he was joining a casual conversation among friends.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you, Willa. You see, I knew about your powers, because I have abilities of my own.”
Willa sat on the couch, her orange cat content in her lap. Elijah wondered why she was so unfazed.
“While I can’t crush cars or cast spells, my powers exist up here.” The man tapped his temple. “I can…persuade people.”
Elijah looked back at Willa. The serenity slowly drained from her face. It was replaced by another emotion he had seen only once before. Hatred filled her eyes.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
Rhett sighed and looked away from the poet. It was the first sign of discomfort Elijah had seen in him since his arrival.
“Let’s just say that I’m convincing. People tend to do what I want.”
Chem took a step back from the man. “Are you talking about mind control?”
“Not exactly. I can’t take away anyone’s choice. But I can play with their emotions, help them choose what I want. It’s like smiling or giving a firm handshake or making eye contact. These things actually affect people’s brain chemistry, make them more agreeable to what you’re proposing. You all do it every day. I just do it better.”
“But why? What’s the point of all this?”
“You should really talk to my brother about that.” Rhett looked around as if expecting someone to be there. The others also searched the room. “I guess I’ll have to give a try at explaining it. My twin brother, Paul, has a gift too. Whereas I can push on the world, influence people to listen to me, Paul is drawn to it in strange ways.”
“Drawn?” Elijah asked.
; The man leaned back and crossed his legs. “Yeah, it’s hard to explain, but I guess most of our…eccentricities are, right? For years, Paul has gotten these inclinations, intuitions, really, about where we ought to be in the world. He doesn’t always know why, but he feels pulled toward certain places or people. In February, I was working in D.C. when someone sent us a grainy YouTube video of a large fiery monster tearing up Pittsburgh. Sound familiar?” He glared at Elijah, a half-smile traced across his lips.
“I laughed it off as a hoax, but Paul was convinced that it was a sign. That we needed to come here. That it was our destiny. This might seem crazy, but we were all drawn here in some way, right?”
Though his question was rhetorical, he gave them some time to mull it over.
“Look, as much as I’m loving your family history, we’ve got bigger problems.” Chem crossed his arms. “C-3PO and R2-D2 kicked our asses out there. Who the hell are those guys?”
“Well, I guess it explains all the recent ‘monster’ sightings.” Elijah said. “But why? What’s their plan?”
“I’m more worried about what they’re gonna do next time. Rita’s captured, your powers are only a fraction of what they used to be.” Chem uncrossed his arms and pointed at Tim, who was still lying unconscious on the bed. “And in my medical opinion, Ford’s fighting days are behind him. Unless Professor X here feels like sweet-talking them, we’re toast if they show up again.” He placed his hands behind his neck. “And I don’t need any special inclinations to tell me that they’re not done yet.”
Elijah stood in silence. Chem was right. Their situation seemed hopeless. He looked down at the broken man in front of him wishing there was some way he could help.
