by Drew Hayes
“The ability to freeze only objects so you wouldn’t hurt allies was a groundbreaking design feature in King Commander Cold,” Donald explained. He walked over to Tori and took aim, sending a wave of panic through her. Sure, it might not have hurt Chloe, but Chloe wasn’t partially composed of fucking fire, now was she? Still, it was either let him shoot her hand or have them try to fix things on their own. Powers or not, neither of them had any experience in this or any sort of combat, probably. If worse came to worse, there had to be someone at the guild who could patch her up. Hopefully.
A small flash of light, a deep cold feeling, and it was done. She’d gotten lucky; Donald’s toy hadn’t accidently iced her hand clean off. Snapping her zip tie easily, Tori rose from her half-crouched position over Ivan and popped her back.
“Okay, look,” she said, thinking fast. “We need a plan. Donald’s items are really cool, no pun intended, but they’ve still got a lot of our friends hostage. Stopping these guys isn’t worth it if it means innocent people get killed.”
Chloe and Donald nodded in agreement, because of course they did agree; they were actually good people, not apprentice villains trying to fake their way through this. But it struck Tori that her words weren’t entirely for show. She really didn’t want any of her coworkers dead—not even Rene from programming, annoying kissass that he was. Tori sort of liked these people, at least enough to not want them listed as casualties. And Ivan wasn’t the only one who had a problem with people stepping onto his territory.
“Sooner or later, one of the guys is going to come check on Mr. Gerhardt—probably the little one so that the big fellow can keep an eye on people who aren’t supposed to be bound to office furniture. If we can freeze him before he screams for help, then we might be able to get the drop on the other one. Donald, does that thing do more than just act like liquid nitrogen?”
“It was made for a kid’s game, so it’s supposed to freeze people solid, but they melt—unharmed—after an hour or so. I’ve tried it out on roaches and a mouse in the alley near my house, and all of them seemed to be fine when they unfroze,” Donald explained.
“I was actually asking if it kept people from yelling, but total body freezing works pretty well too,” Tori said. “So the key to this will be you getting off the shot before he realizes anything is up. Think you can handle that?”
“I’ve been practicing,” Donald admitted. From the way his eyes dropped, though, Tori had a feeling he knew he wasn’t the best shot in the west yet. That was okay. With a little planning, they could still find a way to get him the window of opportunity he needed.
Unfortunately, it was just then that Tori heard the sound of soft footsteps coming toward the break room. They were officially out of time to plan or scheme in any capacity. That left Tori with only one option left: winging it. She felt oddly comfortable with that realization—at least flying by the seat of her pants was something she’d had practice with.
“Everyone, get back in your spots and pretend to be held. Donald, I’ll find a way to get him distracted. Whatever you do, don’t miss the damn shot.”
* * *
Unnoticed by anyone in the office, a ragged man with kaleidoscope eyes wearing a beaten coat appeared near the edge of the cube farm, tucked away in the office’s entrance alcove. Nexus had no intention of interfering, of course; only on the rarest of occasions did he see a need to influence things directly, at least in this world. In certain others, he tended to be a bit more... hands on. But today, he had merely come to watch the show. It would be interesting to see how things played out here in one of the most unique universes he’d ever discovered.
Gathered in the break room were four people with the potential to change the world before them astronomically. Here, in this encounter, many possibilities would be destroyed while a myriad of others would be created. How this fight went often determined the paths of all four of them, though one’s path would be far shorter than the others.
This universe was certainly unique, so it might surprise him, but in the overwhelming number of times Nexus had watched the next five minutes, one of the four almost always died. The only question today was who.
Leaning back so as not to be seen, Nexus carefully watched as the short man in the body armor made his way to the break room, unknowingly setting the wheels of fate in motion.
* * *
Despite her bold promise, Tori actually had no idea what she was going to do to distract their captor. Her brain whirred with activity as the steps grew closer by the second, her eyes darting about the room as she worked to think her way through the situation.
The zip tie was in chunks, and while their captor might not notice Chloe and Donald’s farce at first, she’d be busted the minute he stepped through the door. Subterfuge was out, which meant her best bet was to catch him off guard with an attack the minute he walked in. Of course, since he was pretty much protected from head to toe, the only strike that might work would require showing her powers to everyone in the room. Even that might not be effective enough, as the leather would protect him from the heat for at least the first few seconds—long enough for him to shoot at the others. She needed a way to hurt him so badly that he couldn’t think straight, let alone take aim. It was the only way Donald would get a safe, clean shot.
Tori’s wandering eyes stopped on the drip-pot with the plastic orange handle, full of cold coffee still sitting from the night before. An idea, seemingly from nowhere, popped into her head. Granted, it would still require using her powers, but in the ensuing chaos, she doubted anyone would notice. It wouldn’t be quiet either, which was a big strike against it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t come up with anything that would deliver on that element, so it was better to pick the alternative that at least kept them all alive. Besides, the footsteps were almost at the door. She didn’t have the luxury of thinking up something smarter.
In one motion, Tori snatched the coffee pot off the cold warming plate, doing her best to shield it from Donald and Chloe. One of the side effects from Ivan making her learn not to emit heat waves was that Tori had grown intimately aware of just how that aspect of her power functioned. For a change, she focused not on stopping her heat output but on directing it. She poured all of her anger, frustration, and general annoyance into that half-congealed coffee sludge. In mere seconds, it had reached a rolling boil. Tori kept at it. She turned up the heat as high as she could for as long as she could, using every last instant before the short man in leather walked through the break room door.
The moment he entered, Tori threw the coffee at him. She didn’t aim for his head, where it would have bounced uselessly off the helmet, or his chest, where the leather would have taken the worst of it. No, Tori aimed right for his neck, spraying the super-heated liquid in the length between his collarbones. True, this part too was protected by leather, but the helmet was far from airtight. Burning steam poured upward into the helmet and their attacker’s face.
Tori barely had time to shout “Now!” before the criminal’s own yell drowned her out, unexpected and horrible screams tearing from his throat. They were mercifully cut short as Donald fired. Their would-be captor suddenly froze in mid-panicked flail, his torso stretched backward and his hands clutched futilely at the helmet that had sealed in the painful steam. Even without being able to see his face, they could practically feel the pain just from his stance. Everyone made a concentrated effort not to look at him as they gathered together in the middle of the room.
“We got him,” Donald said, holding his freeze-gun at the ready. “But it wasn’t exactly the silent take-down we were hoping for.”
“Sorry about that, I sort of panicked and went with the first thing I could think of. I’ve gotten blasted by the steam from enough cups of coffee to know it would at least hurt. Guess it was hotter than I expected.” Tori tilted her head to the drip-pot maker, still sitting useless on the counter. As far as covers went, it wasn’t a great one, but she highly doubted anyone would fact-check it.
<
br /> “Maybe we got lucky and the big guy didn’t hear it,” Chloe said.
“Abner?” The voice called out through the office, nearly rumbling the tiles as it did. No such luck: the big guy had heard the screams. Their best case scenario was that he’d try to come kill them. Worst case would be if he was smart enough to use the hostages; though, given that he seemed to be using the frozen crook’s real name, that seemed somewhat unlikely.
“What do we do?” Donald looked at both of them, gun shaking slightly as his eyes went wide.
“You’re asking us? I’m an administrative assistant and she makes old sayings come true. You’re the one with the ability to turn video game shit real,” Tori pointed out.
“Right,” Donald said. His shaking gun slowly steadied, and a determined gleam seemed to twinkle in his eye. “You’re right. This is mine. I can handle it. He might be strong, but he probably still freezes just like anyone else.”
Tori chanced a look at Ivan, who was still doing an excellent impression of someone who’d been shot and poorly bandaged. She dearly wished he would stop the act and talk to her, if only for a few moments. The truth of the matter was that without knowing what sort of meta the big guy was or where his powers came from, there was no way of telling how Donald’s beam would work on him. Even Tori’s flames might be useless, depending on exactly what abilities and immunities he had. Her time in the guild had shown her just how broad the meta spectrum really was, and she knew well enough to take nothing for granted. But... it wasn’t like they had any better options, was it?
“You shoot him; Chloe and I will try and distract him,” Tori said.
“How do you plan on us doing that?” Chloe didn’t look scared, not exactly, but she was eyeing Tori in a new way. It looked more suspicious than anything else, which caused Tori a twinge of worry, but she’d just have to deal with that later.
“Easy. We shoot him too.” Reaching over to the frozen man wracked in pain, Tori pulled a pair of handguns from the myriad of weapons strapped across his body. They were mildly cold, more like they’d been left outside in autumn than stuck in a freezer, so she hoped they would still fire. Tori checked the clip on one then handed it over to Chloe.
“Only shoot at the big guy, and don’t even try that if he has a hostage.” As Tori spoke, the rumblings of heavy footsteps slammed through the office. “He’s strong, so he’s probably tough on top of having body armor, which means the most we’ll do with these is annoy him. Donald, we’re counting on you.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle this.” No one was sure if Donald was trying to convince them or himself, but there wasn’t time to argue. Those heavy thuds were growing louder, and no one wanted to try and deal with the big man in an enclosed space.
“As soon as we’re out the door, spread out,” Tori ordered. “He’s big, so although we might be faster, there’s a good chance he’ll barrel right through the furniture and cubicles. Don’t count on them for cover. Stay spry, keep moving, never let him pin you in a corner. And for heaven’s sake, let’s all try not to get anyone killed out there, especially ourselves.”
Chapter 34
The bulky kidnapper was thudding through the cubicle area when all three of the former hostages burst out of the break room. Despite having been brought on for muscle more than brains, he could still tell when a situation had gone sideways. Three office workers storming into view with guns in hand tripped his awareness pretty handily. And so it was that the man threw himself down and rolled to the side, easily avoiding the freezing beam of Donald’s first shot.
“That’s a weird-looking gun you got there.” He stayed low, peeking up as little as possible to see where the three had fanned out. “Is that the gun that made Abner scream so loud?”
“Nah, your little buddy just can’t handle his caffeine.” Tori fired a bullet near the hulking man’s position, clipping the top of a felt-covered cube wall. It was nowhere close to a clean shot, but she hadn’t really expected to hit him. All she’d wanted to do with the first shot was make sure the gun worked and draw his attention. On the first goal, at least, she succeeded; however, his helmet-shielded gaze stayed aimed right at Donald. Damn. He was smart enough to keep his eyes on the prize—in this case, the prize being the one of them holding unnatural equipment. Tori read him loud and clear: handguns were useless on him, but the mystery gun might not be, and thus needed to be carefully observed.
She really hated when her opponents weren’t idiots.
“You can still walk away from this, you know,” Tori called out. “Both of your cohorts might be down for the count, but you can probably smash right through this wall and make your escape. The job is a bust. You must see that. Your best bet is to get clear and live to rob another day.”
Of course, that day would never come; she’d seen the look in Ivan’s eyes. One way or another, this was the date that would be on the big man’s headstone.
“Yeah, that’s probably the smart call.” His hands moved somewhere out of sight, and Tori had just enough time to register a slight crunching sound before a dark object whipped through the air. “’Course, I’m not all that famous for my smarts.”
The object, a tower wrested from one of the many desktops scattered about the cubes, rushed forward on a beeline with Donald’s skull. It was too fast for him to dodge; she doubted he even had the chance to register it. Luckily, Donald hadn’t walked into the fight without some protection of his own. The buckler on his arm flashed, and for a moment, Donald was surrounded by a perfect sphere of light. Loud smashing and clattering filled the room as the tower slammed against the light, turning to debris and tumbling harmlessly to the floor.
“I’ll be damned. You have some pretty neat toys. Surprised to find you working in a place like this.” Their opponent didn’t seem bothered by his failed attack. He stayed low and crept through the cube farm. More muffled crunching sounds were the only warning Tori had that he’d restocked his supply, not that it would do any good. Donald’s defenses were top notch.
It hit her just before she saw the desktop tower screaming toward her chest: Donald wasn’t the only viable target in the room. Years of petty crime, fighting off muggers, and perhaps a little of the guild’s training all kicked in at once. Without a thought, Tori leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding the hunk of electronics that shattered on the wall near her. Chloe, however, didn’t have all of her experience and training.
“Fuck!” On the upside, Chloe had managed to get partly out of the way, but her yelp coupled with the audible crunch as the tower struck her hips made it clear she’d taken an injury. Worse than that, even from across the room Tori could see it was an obvious effort for her to keep standing. She’d be unable to pull off even another half-dodge.
Tori watched the blonde barista mutter something under her breath. It was impossible to tell what the words were, but the most Tori could hope for was that there was an old saying that made people immune to flying computers.
“Looks like the girls don’t have fancy shields or guns.” He was moving through the cubes again, no doubt reloading. Periodically, Tori would get good shots at his limbs or shoulders—there was too much bulk to completely conceal—but she didn’t bother taking them. Wasting ammunition wouldn’t do them any good, at least not for the moment. She needed to think of a way to draw him into the open, to give Donald an actual shot. And she needed to do it soon.
“How about we make a deal? You throw down the gadgets, I promise not to hurt any more of these nice people. Maybe you’ve got connections or powers, but we both know you aren’t a cape. Keep pretending and you’re going to get someone hurt.”
Donald’s eyes swept the area, searching for his chance, but Tori could already see his determination wavering. The huge jerk wasn’t wrong, after all. Donald was as far from a cape as one could get and still be considered a meta. Shit, Tori was closer to a cape than he was—at least she’d had some training and combat experience. Cape or not, though, Donald was the closest thing to a champ
ion they had, so he would have to do. By any means necessary.
“Hey, Donald, same deal as last time,” Tori called. She brought her gun to the ready and lowered her stance. All that talking and moving about had given her a clear idea of where the last hostage-taker was in the array of cubicles. He was too low to shoot at, true, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t find him. “Whatever you do, don’t miss. Even if you have to take two instead of one.”
Before Donald could manage more than a half-formed attempt at a question, Tori was off, racing through the cubicles. It took all of ten seconds and two quick turns to find the near-giant crouched down on the ground, a small pile of desktop towers at his feet. Though she couldn’t see his face through the helmet, she still noticed his visible shock as she came whipping around the bend in a head-on charge. Shock was the right emotion, too. After all, he was a powerful meta and she looked like nothing more than an average woman ready to face the final workday of the week—what could she hope to accomplish with such a pointless attack?
Without slowing down, Tori leapt on the large man’s back, jammed the gun under his helmet as best she could, and pulled the trigger. Even those who could shrug off a lot of damage had some places on their body were tougher than others. If he was going to have a spot weak enough to let a bullet through, the top of his neck and area under his jaw were her best bets.
Tori squeezed the trigger three times before a large hand wrapped around her own. He easily yanked her off his back, squeezing her hand so tightly it was a miracle her fingers didn’t completely shatter.
“This one has guts,” he said, his body still hunched over even as he dangled Tori a foot off the ground. “I admire that, I really do. Tell you what, out of respect for her guts, I’m going to give you until the count of three to—”
