by Hayes, Drew
A half hour of driving brought him to a small dirt road, which he turned down and proceeded for another couple of miles. Finally arriving at an abandoned gas station, Adam pulled his car around behind the building and killed the engine. He stepped out, taking a stretch after the lengthy commute. Seconds later there was a ripple in the air as Globe and Clarissa became visible.
“Right on time,” Clarissa noted.
“Of course. I know everyone is waiting for me. Can’t get the party really started until Quentin and I have gotten the crew amped up.”
Globe had once again fashioned a fake left arm for himself, but it was his real hand that he rested gently on Adam’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do more than that, you know. We can handle this next part. There’s no need to put yourself in harm’s way. So much of your life is still ahead of you, Adam.”
“Thanks, but I’m seeing this through personally. I’ve waited a long time for George to make good on our bargain. I’m not putting it off for a minute more than I have to.” Adam stepped away from Globe and his attempt at comfort, looking over to Clarissa. “Ready?”
“Always.” She made a quick motion and suddenly there was a rift in the world, revealing the rest of the team clustered together back at the base.
Adam didn’t say any more, he merely walked through the portal without a second glance. Even if it was true that part of him would miss Lander, he still had to keep his eyes forward. The past was a dangerous place; it threatened to drag him down if he let it. Moving forward was his only way to survive.
* * *
This was, in Hershel’s carefully considered opinion, bullshit. Everyone else from Melbrook had managed to find a way to watch the fights live, but he was stuck in the gym with the rest of the class, waiting for results. Not even Titan being in the audience had been enough to score him an invitation, since a Hero wasn’t allowed to bring future interns along. Instead of getting to see his friends bring their best to bear against the top tier from every other HCP, he was sitting around, having snacks, and making side-bets on how things would go as they waited for word from below.
Professor Pendleton suddenly hopped to his feet, leaving behind his romance novel and the magazine he’d been poorly using to conceal it. “Hey! Attention, everyone: word from below just came up. To what I hope is the surprise of none of you, the first match of Intramurals has been won by Lander’s very own Chad Taylor. We’ve got a bout between other schools next, and then Alice will be fighting someone from Overton. More to come as I get it.”
With that, he plopped into his seat and plucked the book back up. Over at the chalk board they’d wheeled in, Violet wrote “Chad” on the winning bracket for the first match, then flipped it over to check bets. “Looks like the only bets we had on this one were ten push-ups between Rich and Thomas, with Rich betting that Chad would lose the first bout. Wow, ten whole push-ups! You guys are big spenders.”
“It’s fucking Chad,” Rich said as he lowered himself to the floor, ready to pay off his bet. “I only took the wager so there would be some stakes. I’m not stupid enough to put anything hard on the line.”
“Yeah, well, next up is Alice against someone from Overton. Anyone want to log bets on that one?” Violet did a cursory scan of the room, not really expecting much activity. There would be more action later on when they had some insight from the previous matches to go on, especially once the first Lander student was knocked out of the running. For now, it was all guesswork compiled from the historical performance of their peers. Once upon a time, betting against Alice would have been a fair wager, but after the year she’d put on, it was hard to imagine she would be knocked out so early in the contest.
To Violet’s surprise, there was one hand sticking up. “Hershel? Got a bet?”
“I’ll put up a hundred push-ups on Alice losing, if anyone wants to take me up on that.”
Several sets of eyes turned to Hershel, uncertain they’d heard him correctly. Violet clearly shared in that sentiment. “Wait, you think Alice is going to lose in the first round?”
“Of course not. I’m just bored, and paying off a dumb bet will at least break things up a little.”
“Huh. I guess that’s fair. Anyone want to take Hershel’s offer?” Violet asked. Several hands shot up, but she was careful to watch for who got there first. “Amber, looks like you’re the lucky lady who’ll do a hundred push-ups on the off chance Alice loses. Hershel has a point, though, so I’ll also stake a hundred on Alice losing. Fuck it, gives me something to do, right?”
More hands went up as the class got into the idea of losing on purpose. Hershel leaned back, wondering what sort of opponent Alice would be up against. If nothing else, this experience was lighting a fire under him to be better and stronger for the next time a situation like Intramurals came along. He didn’t enjoy being on the bench, and it wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat anytime soon.
258.
The reaction in the viewing room was overall impressed, although no one seemed particularly shocked. Even among those who hadn’t already known Chad’s history, the moment he announced himself as “Intra” most were able to put the pieces together. For the son of a former Hero, especially one coming from Lander’s rumored Class of Nightmares, winning the first match was almost expected. There were a few whispers about the display he’d put on among the other classes, however. The blinding speed he’d shown off for a few seconds was the sort of display that left an impression, and many a student was trying to puzzle out how they’d overcome such a technique.
For her part, Alice was pretty wowed by the showing that Brenda had given. The way her clones had worked in unison was marvelous to watch, and spoke to an incredible level of control and coordination. Julia had never come close to showing that amount of skill; if she had then there was a very real chance she’d still be enrolled at the HCP, if not fighting at Intramurals. From a technical perspective, it was fascinating, but Alice was also taking a real-world lesson from the fight: knowing someone’s power didn’t mean she’d be aware of everything they could do with it. That was important to keep in mind, even more so as the matches went on and the other students showed their stuff. There was always the potential for a hidden angle, an ace held up a sleeve until the finals. She couldn’t afford to let herself be caught off guard, not if she wanted to show what Subtlety students were capable of.
Victor had just finished drawing the location for the second match, a rainy mock-up of a parking lot, when Alice felt a brief tap on her shoulder. She spun around to find Dean Blaine looking down at her. “You’re in our number two slot, which means you’ll be fighting next against a representative from Overton. Time to head down to the prep room.”
Unbidden, Alice’s eyes darted to the screen, where she knew another fight would soon be taking place. Much as she wanted to stay and collect information, this was part of the challenge. Besides, there were bound to be whispers after the fight, just like people were mumbling about Chad, so she’d probably be able to pick up a little if she kept her ears open.
“I’m against Overton, huh? Anything I should know about their school in general?”
Dean Blaine carefully lifted his eyebrows with practiced grace. “Are you actually trying to pump me for information?”
“Not specifics. Just wondering if there are any rumors. Like how I’d bet most of the other students know the nickname our class got saddled with.”
With a shake of his head, Dean Blaine pointed to the hallway door. “There are days when your relation to Sean is more pronounced than others, and I’m not sure I mean that as a compliment.”
“That’s okay; I’m going to choose to take it as one.” She gave a small wave and then turned toward the door. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure you’ve got good news to pass along to him. I bet being stuck in the gym is driving him crazy.”
* * *
“Everything looks good.” Dr. Moran was checking Chad over, despite his assurances that he was healed and fine, while t
wo more people in crisp white uniforms did the same. Mary stood off to the side, doing her best to stay out of the way as Chad was carefully, clinically evaluated.
A woman with dark hair and eyes that were a tad too blue to mistake as normal pressed her hand against Chad’s forehead. “No lingering psychic trauma that I can sense, although to be honest I’m not getting much of anything from him at all.”
“Chad’s brain doesn’t work on the same frequency as most of ours; his thoughts and feelings don’t broadcast.” Mary threw the information out quickly and concisely, retreating to her corner as soon as it was done. Perhaps she could have been more involved in the procedure, but she was still getting comfortable in her new role as Dr. Moran’s student and didn’t want to overstep any bounds so soon.
The woman closed her eyes and strained for a few seconds longer before giving up and lowering her hand. “Seems to be accurate. Dr. Haas, would you like to weigh in?”
Dr. Haas, the only other male in the room, hunkered down to stare into Chad’s eyes. They stayed locked like that for nearly ten seconds before Dr. Haas looked away. “He’s fine, Dr. Villegas. Doesn’t look shaken at all. Can’t say I’m surprised after a mere tussle like that. This one has seen far worse.”
“I don’t love that we can’t do a proper mental screening, but if Dr. Haas says he’s okay then I’m willing to go with it. Dr. Moran, how about you? He’s from your school, you know the student better than the rest of us.”
“If anyone is interested, I do feel fine.” Chad didn’t seem like he expected anyone to care much about his opinion, he was just tossing it out for the sake of trying.
Dr. Moran finished looking over Chad’s back and shoulders before giving a firm nod. “I’m interested, Chad. You tend to be very skilled at self-analysis, and I agree with Dr. Haas, you’ve seen far worse battles than that match. Judgment on both physical and mental stability is that Chad Taylor has fully healed and is ready to proceed.” Reaching over, she grabbed the coat of Chad’s uniform and tossed it to him. “Go ahead and get ready, I’m sure you’ll want to watch the other matches until it’s your turn again.”
Doing as he was told, Chad slipped his shirt and coat back on and headed out the nearest door, giving Mary a brief smile as he made his way out. Once he was gone, another door opened, this one showing more people in white, as well as a woman still half-dressed in battle armor.
“Miss Sellers, if you’re done being healed we can proceed with your examination,” Dr. Villegas called.
Brenda trudged her way in, no longer in pain yet far from fully-recovered from her bout. “Do I even need one? It’s not like I’m going to be fighting any more today.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice for anything else, though Mary tried hard to pretend she didn’t notice.
“Of course you need one, keeping up with your health after a battle is very much a part of being a Hero,” Dr. Villegas told her. “All of this, today’s events are just a game played for fun and bragging rights. Learning to take your post-battle check-ups seriously, on the other hand, is an important lesson we expect you to take with you into the Hero world.”
“If I even make the cut. I really thought I had a shot at going all the way, but I couldn’t even get past my first opponent. I’ll be lucky to graduate after that showing.”
Dr. Moran stepped slightly forward, getting the attention of the room. “Mary, correct me if I’m wrong, but during the time you were enrolled in the HCP you were widely considered to be the second-strongest in the class after Chad, correct?”
“I didn’t pay much attention to rankings, but I was usually around that level,” Mary confirmed.
“And how many times did you defeat Chad Taylor?”
“Not once. In fact, I don’t think I ever lasted as long as Brenda did.” That part probably wasn’t completely true, but Mary could see what Dr. Moran was doing. “He’s been at the top of the class since freshman year, and with good reason. There’s no shame at all in losing to Chad.”
Brenda was staring at them both as she hopped up onto the examination table. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“It is just a fact, do with it what you will,” Dr. Moran replied.
Despite the tough words, Mary could hear Brenda’s thoughts taking on a lighter tone already, and she scratched down a few notes. There was a lot more to dealing with Heroes than just patching their wounds, and Mary was determined to learn as much as she could. One day, she’d be the person they were leaning on in moments much tougher than this, and she’d damn well better be ready for it.
259.
Apparently, the setting drawn for Alice’s fight had been a field. It looked like a smaller version of the open landscape where they’d had their team bouts as sophomores: simulated blue sky above them, a few trees dotting the landscape, and lots of lush grass along the ground. It was less than ideal, as far as she was concerned. Alice would have preferred a setting with places to take cover, or at least clearly-defined ceilings and walls she could bounce an opponent off of. This was going to be harder. Not by a lot, but she was already working under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much leeway in these fights. A small advantage could add up to a big difference in the right student’s hands. She’d just have to hope her first opponent was as put out by the room they’d drawn as she was.
He was a burly fellow, with a close-cut hairdo and wily eyes that darted around the battlefield as Victor called for them to introduce themselves. Without pause, he piped up the moment Victor’s voice had faded from the unseen speakers. “Nelson Galloway, Close Combat major. Codename: Big Boom.”
“Alice Adair, Subtlety major. Codename: Legacy.”
“A Subtlety major? Well, that’s interesting.” Whatever reasons Nelson had for thinking so went unsaid as Victor called out a start to the match.
To her surprise, Alice saw Nelson bolt out of sight, running behind the one of the few trees, if could call the slender sapling by such a term. For a Close Combat student not to charge right in was strange, so the immediate assumption had to be that he was up to something. She wasn’t sure what, but Alice had a hunch her job would be easier if Nelson was caught off-guard. While uprooting a tree – small or not – would be a bit too showy, creating dual gravity pulls on opposite sides of a single point was much easier, and, more importantly, the sort of thing a telekinetic could easily manage. Just she had with Thomas’s knees, Alice pulled the tree’s trunk in opposite directions, snapping it half and sending the top part tumbling away through the air. She’d been quick, but Nelson was no slouch either. In his brief window, the student had changed out of human form. What stared back at Alice was a seven-foot-tall gray creature with swollen limbs and strange patterns all along its skin.
“Shifter,” she muttered, taking a careful step back.
“Advanced mind.” Nelson didn’t sound like the same person; there was something shrill in his voice now, just those two words made Alice wince slightly. At least he’d taken the bait, though. If her luck held, Alice was hoping she’d be able to bluff her way through the whole event as someone using telekinesis. The less her opponents knew, the better her chances at making it to the final bout.
Nelson, apparently done changing, ripped the rest of the tree casually aside and bolted forward. Holy shit, he was strong in that form. One punch from limbs that could uproot a sapling and Alice would be down for the count. Still, she didn’t lift herself up just yet. Instead, she backpedaled, making it seem like she was trying to get a lock on Nelson as he came steadily closer. He kept jerking to the side, running in an erratic pattern no doubt meant to make him harder to mentally grip. Against someone using telekinesis, it would have been a sound strategy. Too bad for Nelson, Alice didn’t actually need to focus on him. She was just waiting for her enemy to get close enough that she couldn’t miss.
With a half-leap, Nelson closed most of the gap between them, unknowingly stepping into an area Alice had been eyeing. No sooner did his feet touch the ground than Ne
lson went blasting off, whipping through the air until he came to a dead stop thirty feet up.
“You’re quick.” Again his voice stung – there was just something awful about it – and the wide grin on his face didn’t help matters.
“And you’re strong. Let’s see if you’re tough, too.” With a thought, Alice slammed Nelson down, dropping him slightly faster than normal gravity would. True, someone with that form and strength would probably have enhanced endurance, but she didn’t want to risk disqualification on the chance that he bucked the odds.
Sure enough, the first impact didn’t even seem to register with Nelson. So Alice slammed him again, harder this time. Then another. And another. Each time she upped the force, and each time he slammed into the ground with a loud thud only to rise smiling once more. Theoretically she could keep this up until she found the level of force that hurt him without risking death, but something told Alice to stay on guard. He was taking this assault far too well for her to think she had the upper hand.
On the rise after the fifth slam, Nelson started talking again. “Not bad. Fast reaction time, good tactics, and care in how much force is used. I can see how you might have made the cut for Intramurals, although I have to say your class must not be all that special for you to be here. Too bad you’re a one-trick pony. Because I’m not.”
That was more than enough giveaway that Nelson was about to attack, so Alice tried another slam to the ground, this time turning up the power by a few more degrees. It still wasn’t enough, and as she lifted him into the air once more, Nelson’s whole body seemed to move. What she’d taken to be strange patterns on his skin all opened simultaneously, revealing themselves to be small mouth-like orifices. They gulped in breath as Nelson’s main mouth stretched wide.
