by James Somers
Jonathan smiled. “Nobody said we had to like it.”
Michael called out from where the soldiers had loaded up in the jeep. “Hey, Jonathan, these guys will take you to intercept Trenton, while I go after the explosives.”
Jonathan nodded. “I’m coming.” He turned back to Jay. “You stay with Michael until he gets to Genetic Corp, then you stay out of that building.”
Jay tried to lift his leg a little, wincing under the pain. “I don’t think I’m going far on my own, anyway.”
Jonathan walked over to the jeep, where the soldiers waited. Michael shook his hand. “Be careful out there. He won’t hesitate to kill you, if he can.”
“I’m not making any funeral plans just yet,” Jonathan said. “I’ll try to give you all the time I can.” Jonathan climbed into the back of the jeep behind the two soldiers. He strapped in as they pulled away, headed after the Nemesis creature.
•••
Michael climbed into the police car. Jay was sitting in the passenger seat. “I don’t suppose you care to sit this one out, kid?” Michael asked.
Jay reached over his shoulder, grabbed the seat belt, and buckled it into place.
“Suit yourself, but I’m no babysitter, kid.” Michael started the engine. “No matter what, you’re staying in the car.”
Jay started to protest, but Michael cut him off. “Dr. Tanner, are you coming with us?”
Doug walked over to the window. “No, detective. I think, if your plan does work, we’ll still need a safe way to dispose of Trenton’s remains. The mutagen, plus the Enhancement Serum, will attempt to repair the damage once he’s out of the rubble from the building. I’ll see if I can mobilize one of my cryo teams. If we can freeze what’s left, then at least we have a real chance at doing him in for good.”
“Sounds good, Doc. We’re outta here.” Michael put the cruiser in gear and pulled out of the debris laden parking lot. “Next stop, Stonewall Demolition Company, kid!”
Jay stared out the windshield and whispered, “Don’t call me kid.”
•••
Ten minutes later, Michael’s police cruiser squealed into the parking lot of the Stonewall Demolition Company. Some of the work crew watched as the police cruiser barreled into a parking space sideways, sending up puffs of white tire smoke. The men, wearing hardhats, murmured among themselves as Michael sprang from the driver’s side door and ran into the foreman’s office.
The small brick building housed only a few old metal desks, one very obsolete personal computer, and an even more obsolete owner. The old codger sat at the desk farthest from the front counter, apparently watching television. He evidently had not heard the bell on the door when Michael came in, for he remained seated with a blank look on his face, staring at the screen.
“Hello!” Michael called. The man still did not acknowledge him. Michael waved his hands in the old man’s direction until he looked up from the screen. “Hey, old man, I need some help!”
Instead of getting up, the old man smiled and waved back. Michael shook his head and motioned for him to come up to the front. The old man reached over and turned down his television, then said, “Do you need some help, young man?”
“Yes!”
“Be right there in a jiffy,” the old man said, getting up out of his chair. He began walking toward the counter, but stopped, turned, and searched for something next to one of the other desks. He pulled a walker out, placed it before him, and began shuffling toward the counter. Michael sighed, “I don’t believe this.”
The old man took over a minute to walk twenty feet with his walker, despite Michael trying to hurry him along.
“Just hold your horses, young fella—this isn’t a Ferrari, ya know,” the old man scolded.
When he reached the counter, he set the walker aside. Michael began explaining the situation only to be stopped by the old man’s upturned finger as he completed the task of setting the walker aside. Michael sighed heavily again, reading the man’s nametag—Fred Stonewall.
When Fred turned back to the counter, he tapped a little bell. “Next!”
Michael understood why cartoon characters often slapped themselves in the face, trying to rub away their exasperation. “Look, Mr. Stonewall, my name is Detective Stamos. I need to get some—”
“Say you’re a police officer?” Fred asked.
Michael stopped, sighing again. “Yes sir, Detective Stamos and I—”
“My oldest son wanted to be a police officer, but I told him what a dang fool idea that was. Who wants to get shot at for minimum wage? Yes, sir, I says, a smart man would take over his daddy’s business and make good in life.”
Michael felt like walking back out of the building. “Mr. Stonewall?”
“That’s me.”
“Mr. Stonewall, I need to commandeer some explosives. We’ve got to demolish a building. It’s an emergency, lives are at stake.”
Fred looked puzzled. “Commandeer explosives? Are you a dang fool? I can’t just give away explosives willy-nilly!”
Michael grabbed his police badge and shook it at the man. “It’s an emergency. I’m a police officer and I’m trained to use this stuff. If you could just—”
“I don’t care who you are, boy. I’ve been working with explosives for over fifty years and I can tell you—”
The door chimed, and another man in a hard hat opened the door. “It’s all right, Pop! I’ll take care of this guy!”
The man jerked his thumb at Michael. He looked at the old man. Fred seemed pleased that his son was throwing him out. Michael complied, following the man out into the yard.
Before Michael could explain, the man interrupted. “The kid told me what you need and why. My men are getting some stuff together now, Officer.” He laughed. “You don’t want to talk to Pop about anything. He’ll drive you nuts.”
Michael looked at Jay, still sitting in the car with a big grin on his face. “Yeah, I got that.”
•••
Jonathan examined the wake of destruction left by Nemesis through the streets of Imperial City. He’s not in so big a hurry that he can’t destroy everything in his path, Jonathan thought.
Early morning traffic had been in full swing when the monster came through. Now, cars lay on their sides, or smashed and beaten out of the way. People were yelling, while multiple alarms squealed in the early morning air. The beast had even kicked a few fire hydrants out of his way, just to keep things interesting. The geysers of water rained down steadily on the pedestrians and drivers.
The major, who was driving their jeep, rode up on the sidewalk. People he could move—wrecked cars he could not. “He’s certainly not trying to hide his tracks is he?” asked the soldier in the passenger seat.
“He’s creating chaos to slow us down,” Jonathan said. “He probably knows we’ll chase him all the way to Genetic Corp, but he needs to get there first.”
The jeep slowed, as a group of victims tried to complain to the soldiers about what had happened to them. The soldier in the passenger seat got on a bullhorn and announced their intentions to go through unhindered. When they didn’t disburse, he pulled his pistol and fired it into the air. The people moved.
The jeep surged through. Jonathan wondered about the mentality. Is it worth injuring or killing innocent people just to get this monster?
An object caught Jonathan’s attention. He looked and saw a car tumble through the air. It came down five hundred yards ahead of them. An explosion erupted near the impact sight.
Jonathan pointed out the area for the soldiers. “That must be him!”
The driver hit the gas, trusting the pedestrians would have the good common sense to move out of his way. They did—barely.
There was no easy way of getting through the mess that Nemesis had left behind. Commuters went this way and that, trying to get to their destinations with little concern for the danger facing the city, or the military trying to stop the cause of it. “We’re going to have to go around another way,�
�� the driver shouted over the increasing noise.
“We don’t have time to go around,” Jonathan complained. “He’ll reach the Genetic Corp building, if we don’t get to him.”
The major looked at his fellow soldier and then at Jonathan. “Well, I’m open to suggestions!”
Jonathan surveyed the situation. Only one other possibility presented itself. He stood up in the back of the jeep. While the soldiers watched with puzzled expressions on their faces, Jonathan leaped away from the vehicle into the street, then up onto the top of a car.
“Where are you going?” the major shouted.
“Hopefully, to get the job done!” he called back.
Jonathan flipped off the roof to the pavement again, dodged several cars, including two that had been piled roof to roof on top of one another. He ran into a blocked intersection again and then took to the tops of the vehicles—leaping from rooftop to rooftop, up onto a bus, running down the length, and down to a Subaru. He kept a steady pace and his eye on the path of destruction, while making his way steadily toward Nemesis.
A new plume of smoke appeared at an intersection just ahead. Jonathan noticed the injured, and longed to help them, but knew if he stopped it would only make for more victims ahead.
Finally, Jonathan spotted him. Nemesis held a man in one hand above his mutated head and the man’s motorcycle in the other. He spun around, throwing the motorcycle through the sidewall of a school bus. Jonathan cried out, but was still too far away to stop him. The driver’s side of the yellow bus caved in as all of the windows shattered into thousands of pieces of glass.
Nemesis turned when he heard Jonathan’s voice, but it was too late for him to react. Jonathan ran, then launched his body through the air in a flying kick. The beast seemed, only at the last fraction of a second, to realize who his attacker actually was.
Jonathan smashed the creature in the face with his boot. Nemesis flew backwards into a stopped car, caving in the empty passenger side. The biker in his hand, launched skyward.
Jonathan leaped to the roof of another car, crossed three more, and caught the man as he came down again. The biker looked stunned, but glad to be alive. “Thanks,” was all he managed to say before Jonathan set him down on the street and surged after Nemesis again. The beast recovered very quickly.
“Jonathan!” he shouted angrily. “I had hoped, by now, you had learned not to interfere.”
Jonathan said nothing, but circled the beast Trenton had become. He left himself plenty of room to move around. Jonathan sized up his adversary, quickly. Clearly, he didn’t have a chance of going toe to toe with Trenton now. The enhancement drug, Dr. Tanner had prepared, had transformed Trenton into something many times stronger than he’d been before.
Nemesis smiled. His skin was deep scarlet. He bore almost no resemblance to Trenton Hallowed, now. The whites of his eyes were almost purple from severe hemorrhaging. He appeared to Jonathan like pure evil incarnate—some demon unleashed upon Imperial City, and he was the only one who had even a glimmer of hope of stopping it.
“Come give your cousin a big hug, Johnny boy!” Nemesis laughed. He was barely covered by any of his clothing at all. His apparel had been shredded by the metamorphosis, and all of the violence since had stripped the majority away.
“I don’t think so, Trenton,” he said. Jonathan continued circling the beast, hoping to delay him by any means possible, so that Michael might rig the Genetic Corp building for self destruction.
“Trenton doesn’t live here anymore,” the beast said. “Nemesis rules now.”
“If you’re not Trenton, then I guess I shouldn’t worry about having to kill you.”
The creature laughed, baring his teeth. They had been pushed out by new bloodstained, white daggers—unlike a human being at all. “Pardon me, if I don’t run and hide. You’re nothing but a man,” Nemesis said.
“And what are you?”
Nemesis smiled again. “A god!” he bellowed. Then he lunged at Jonathan.
Jonathan only had time to evade the attack. He used his martial arts training and back flipped onto the roof of the car behind him. Nemesis charged through blindly, like an enraged elephant, plowing into the vehicle. Glass exploded in every direction.
Angry at missing his target, Nemesis pushed harder, overturning the car Jonathan stood upon. As the vehicle rolled back, Jonathan ran across it like a circus performer on a giant ball. He kicked the creature in the head again, then jumped away to land behind him.
Nemesis tore away a door from the car and hurled it at Jonathan. He deflected the twisted hunk of metal with his arm, but the weight of it knocked him off balance. Jonathan tumbled sideways, expecting the beast to follow through with another attack. Nemesis kicked at his head, but missed as Jonathan rolled back to his feet.
Jonathan’s arm had been sliced open by some of the metal on the car door. But the bleeding stopped almost as soon as it started, and was beginning to heal already. Jonathan had no weapons to fight the beast with—hand to hand all the way.
Nemesis threw a meaty arm at him, but Jonathan dodged it and tried to sweep the creature’s knee. Nemesis buckled at the joint, as Jonathan moved in with rapid punches to his head. He gave it every ounce of strength he could, but it was still a mistake.
Nemesis grabbed hold of him around the waist and began to squeeze. Jonathan pounded into the creature’s bloated face like a jackhammer. Blood covered his fists and arms, but Nemesis still did not let go. He squeezed harder and harder, until Jonathan felt like he might pass out from lack of oxygen. His spine popped, but he did not lose mobility.
Desperately, Jonathan gouged at Nemesis’ eyes. That did it. The monster let go of him. He fell to the ground. Nemesis clutched his face. Jonathan rolled away and stood again. The creature lowered his hands, revealing bloody eyes—even worse for all the subconjuctival hemorrhaging. Nemesis howled, then picked up a car. He pushed it up over his head, as overblown muscles bulged all over his body.
Jonathan took advantage of the opening and lunged at him with a swift kick. He slammed a boot into the creature’s breastbone, knocking the wind out of him. Nemesis staggered backward, dropping the car on top of Jonathan.
Nemesis jumped back to the car, when he realized his good fortune. He looked down through the driver’s side window, hoping to see his crushed opponent. Jonathan burst through the window from inside the vehicle, catching him on the chin. Nemesis flew back into more stopped cars, crushing them.
Down the road, Jonathan noticed the National Guardsmen coming. They had more trucks, carrying soldiers and even an armored carrier with a large machine gun turret. They began clearing out the remaining civilians who, up to this time, had been watching the fight of the century.
Nemesis noticed them, too, peeling himself out of an SUV. He growled at them, then at Jonathan. “You think you’re clever, but I realize what you’re trying to do, Jonathan.”
He watched the beast, but said nothing. The cut on his arm had almost completely healed. The damage to Nemesis had healed even faster. Whatever the enhancement drug consisted of, it certainly made him a tougher opponent.
Nemesis smiled with eerie confidence. “We’ll play soon enough.” Then he leaped back over the smashed cars, caving in the roofs of several more and hit the sidewalk on the other side. He ran into an apartment complex, high-rise—smashing right through the front doors in the process.
Jonathan ran after him. He hated to think about how many potential victims were living in this place. At this time of the morning, most of the children would already be at school. He jumped smashed cars like hurdles, then followed Nemesis into the building.
Immediately, Jonathan heard screaming from above. He hit the stairwell running. Jonathan heard a woman’s drawn out scream and looked up the stairwell just in time to see a body falling toward him. Jonathan snatched her by the arm. She screamed louder, as her right shoulder dislocated. Jonathan pulled the woman onto the stair landing and set her on the floor. “You’ll be all right
now.”
The woman moaned in pain, holding her shoulder. She was too distressed to speak, but acknowledged with a nod. Jonathan ran up the stairs again. More screams descended to him. Knowing what Nemesis might be doing to these people spurred on his pursuit. He ran up the stairs. The lights flickered in the building, then went out completely.
Light filtered into the dark corridors from small windows at the end of each landing, but no more than that. Jonathan heard different voices—men, women, and children. He heard something else…Nemesis lunged from the shadows, smashing Jonathan in the chest.
His breath surged out of his lungs, as he flew backward through the air. Jonathan smashed through a wall. It slowed him. Jonathan tumbled over furniture, then crash landed among broken wood, water, and clothing. He realized he had gone through someone’s apartment, but they did not appear to be home. Lucky them.
Nemesis followed through with the attack. He ran at Jonathan, through the holes in several walls, wailing like a rabid animal. Jonathan tried to untangle himself. He was in a closet, having apparently busted a water line at some point coming through.
Jonathan grabbed the metal bar that had been used as a clothes rod in the closet, then rolled out of the mess of wet clothes. He stood just as Nemesis reached him. The beast lunged after him, but Jonathan went into his training. He dodged, then struck with the pole. A solid hit to the back of the head.
Nemesis tumbled off balance. Jonathan spun the bar like a Bo staff, hitting him again. Nemesis faltered, smashed through the kitchen, then came back with a block of knives in one hand. He laughed maniacally, then began throwing them from the block.
Jonathan blocked most of them, but one got through, and embedded in his leg. He pulled it out quickly, but the distraction was enough. Nemesis grabbed a chair, entangled the metal rod in the legs, then tore the makeshift weapon out of Jonathan’s hands.
