by Hayes, Drew
“Looks like it’s done.” Although Adam could see the fighting from their position, they were too far away to make out details. All he could really see was the guards beginning to break their formations and scatter.
“One way or another. I hope we did enough, but I don’t think we’re going to be the ones to determine that. Whatever comes next is in hands higher up than ours.” Carefully, George lowered himself to the grass, getting into a kneeling position. “You did your job. More than we had any right to ask, and damn sure more than we could ever expect. You’ve earned this.” He tilted his head downward, facing the ground.
Seconds later, George felt the gentle touch of Adam’s hand against the base of his neck. With Raze’s body and power, all it would take was a quick jolt of destructive energy to kill. One shot, and that would be the end of George.
“Part of me thought you’d try to weasel out of this.” There was an edge in Adam’s voice, but he was still holding it together pretty well. Oddly, George felt a touch proud of that. Even if the circumstances were beyond fucked up, at least he’d been a decent teacher. Maybe there was time for one last lesson.
“It was tempting. I like my life, shitty as it is right now, and I’m not keen on dying. But when you make a mistake, you should own it: take responsibility, and be prepared to do the best you can to make things right. I can’t bring your family back. This is the best I can offer instead.”
“Still trying to teach me how to be a Hero?”
George suppressed a laugh; this wasn’t the time for any sort of frivolity. “No, we both know you’re never going down that road. I’m trying to teach you how to be a decent person. If we don’t own up to our mistakes, we’re no better than the criminals we fight.”
“I hate you so much for what you took from me. So much. But at the same time, I think I’m going to miss you. Is that strange?”
“No, Adam. That’s just part of what it means to be human.” George took one last breath, closed his eyes, and waited for the end to come.
* * *
The giant armored rabbit had occupied the attention of more than a few guards, which, when paired with reinforcements and the fact that the Heroes no longer had to worry about finding or fighting off Globe, turned the momentum of the fight from a slow brawl into a rapid assault. With split attention and renewed foes, the guards fell faster and faster. Even the lingering effects of Crispin’s amplification couldn’t stand against well-trained, determined Heroes.
While the fight had swung in their favor, there was still the matter of getting across an active battlefield. Dean Blaine took the lead, suppressing the abilities of everyone who drew near them while Shane and Angela cleared a path with the ranged aspects of their powers. Chad and Roy were defending the rear, making any dumb son of a bitch who tried to sneak up on them instantly regret it. Thomas and Camille were with them, the latter still healing the former, who himself was creating quick orange shields to deflect anything ranged that came at them. Overhead, they could still see Mary zipping about, pulling the occasional wounded Hero up from the ground and speeding off, Mr. Numbers shouting calculated movements in her ear. When she did a low sweep, Dean Blaine motioned for her to fly near.
“Mary, did Amber come along with the group of students?”
“I guess you didn’t see those sound bombs go off earlier. Yeah, she’s here. Here and still hunting for Crispin, in fact. I haven’t had the heart to tell her he’s dead yet.”
That was news to Dean Blaine as well, and for a moment he almost asked Mary what had happened. Short of finding the killer themselves, she was the likeliest place to get the whole story. But if Crispin had died in crossfire or at a guard’s hand, it was nothing, whereas if one of the students killed him things might get messy. It was an issue Blaine would have to deal with, just not at this precise moment.
“Have her amplify her voice and signal all the other students to meet us at the giant tree Overgrowth brought the deans in on. Since none of you have comms, that will have to suffice as a communication method.”
“Aren’t you worried that the guards will try to intercept them?” Mary asked.
Dean Blaine glanced over the battlefield. Some ways off, a sinkhole opened, swallowing four guards up to their necks. There was a figure in a white uniform all but dancing through gunfire, dropping a guard with every shot of her own. A huge shifter made of what seemed like diamond suddenly tumbled to the ground as a lone student with a sword sliced neatly through one of its legs. Terrified screams of a guard suddenly hauled up into a tree by an unseen monster rang through the air. A team of students – one with a staff, one seemingly hurling people about telekinetically – was standing victorious over a swollen guard with obvious enhanced strength. The sudden thump and shower of dirt signaled the landing of someone super-dense, and from the cloud of debris came a spiked chain wrapping around a guard who’d had the misfortune of not being thrown further away as he menaced an injured Hero. Energy was pouring up and out from a half-dozen firefights, bodies hurled through the air by various means of force, for a split-second it almost looked like there was a tear in the very sky above them. Heroes and students, working together, were proving exactly what the HCP was made of.
“No, I can sincerely say I am not worried about that in the slightest. These guards are brave, or at least well motivated, but I daresay running toward all these students would be akin to hurling themselves into a meat grinder, and they know it.”
Mary floated a little higher and looked over the scene. “Class of Nightmares, huh?”
“Seeing the talent the other schools have, I feel like Generation of Nightmares might have been more fitting, but no one asks me when they come up with these stupid nicknames.” Dean Blaine watched Mary laugh as she flew off, presumably toward Amber, before they resumed their trek.
The longer they ran, the easier moving became as more and more guards were brought down or captured. By the time they reached Graham DeSoto, it felt like the battle was nearly over. There were only a few stray people in body armor still running about or firing. Some of the students were already there; they’d seen that the end was coming and grouped up on the most logical landmark to await new orders, even without Dean Blaine’s message. One more bit of proof that these kids were going to do fine in the field.
Vince was laying on the back of the giant tree, his uniform jacket removed and draped across his left side while Casper stood over him, his hands on Vince’s forehead. Globe was only a few feet away, Graham DeSoto at his side, watching the process with unnecessary worry. As a man who’d been nearly blown apart and then put back together, Dean Blaine could more than vouch for Casper’s healing power.
“Why are they covering him?” Camille asked.
“Watching limbs regrow can be… unnerving, for those not used to it,” Dean Blaine explained. “It became Hallow’s standard tactic to cover the process when he had to do it in the field. I suppose some habits linger, even after they are no longer in use.”
Finally, Casper stood up, cracking his back and pulling off the jacket. There, pale but otherwise normal, was a new arm. Vince started to stir, lifting his head slightly before dropping it right back down onto the bark.
“He’s not doing anything for a while. Regrowing a limb takes enough out of someone, plus he’d already worn himself down and had other injuries on top of it. If the kid wakes up before tomorrow morning it will only be to use the bathroom.”
“Don’t be… so sure…” Although he didn’t lift his head this time, Vince’s eyes did manage to pull themselves halfway open. “Not missing… my father…”
In a moment, Globe was there, resting a hand on his son’s chest. “Stubborn boy. Always have been. Too stubborn and decent for your own good. I don’t have my power right now, so you’ll have to sleep on your own. Just this once, do as you’re told.”
Despite his clear struggle, Vince’s eyes eventually fell shut, and Globe breathed a sigh of relief. “Hey Graham, when this is done, I’d apprecia
te it if you let Vince come visit me in whatever hole you put me down. At least once, he deserves a proper goodbye.”
“That is a discussion we should have once we know the actual charges to level at you.” While his voice was gentle, the posture of Graham DeSoto remained firm and unrelenting. “We healed Vince, just like you requested. Now it’s time to uphold your end of the bargain.”
It was odd to see a look of surprise on Globe’s face; he tended to act like someone who saw it all coming, at least in public. “Here? Wouldn’t you prefer something a little more private? Or at least not on an active battlefield?”
“Active is a strong word for what remains of Adair’s forces. And yes, I want you to tell me here, not in some secret room or hidden chamber.” Graham thrust a finger toward the near-toppled ruins of the bunker. “I think we have seen too well today where doing business in secret gets the world. Whatever happened, whatever the truth is, the world deserves to know it. No more dark deals done in shadows. No more secrets.”
A flash of movement illuminated Globe’s eyes as they darted over to Chad, who was slowly shedding his bone armor. “You’re right. There have been more than enough secrets. Time to tell the truth.” Taking a deep breath, Globe turned back to Graham DeSoto.
“To the best of my knowledge, it happened like this…”
323.
Some hours later, they were still stuck in the clearing. There was no more fighting, thankfully. Instead, the entire area was filled with Heroes and DVA agents as they worked tirelessly to excavate the remains of Charles’ bunker. Vince had roused himself from the unexpected nap largely through sheer will, but he was still firmly ordered to undertake nothing strenuous until he’d had time to properly recover. That was easier said than done, however, as he watched the Heroes hurrying about to the countless tasks before them. There were arrests to make, Heroes to debrief, students to talk with, and all manner of other issues that would likely take long into the evening. Globe was gone already, spirited away by some DVA officials once his story was told, no doubt to say the same things dozens of times more under the scrutiny of telepaths and other Supers. He was safe though, and that was all Vince could ask for.
In fact, Vince was shocked at how well the people he knew had come out of this. Despite the corpses of Heroes being hauled from the battlefield – not many, thanks to Mary, yet still more than enough – none of the students had been killed. Some were calling it a miracle, and Vince was inclined to agree to the extent that much of what Nick did often seemed miraculous. He was still waiting for his friend, patiently, while the rest of the world moved around him.
Alice was in the hands of the DVA; they’d gotten word an hour or so ago that she and her mom were safe. While Vince wasn’t sure if they’d told Alice about her father, though he hoped they would wait until her friends could be there. Much as she denied the connection between them, the loss of Charles Adair would be a loss all the same. Roy was helping Titan dig through the bunker since they were among the least likely to get hurt by any lingering traps, and Mary was helping the DVA hunt down the few guards who had broken ranks and run. Camille was healing those in need, of course, because that was what she did. Everyone had a task, and Vince, in spite of his weakened state, was no exception.
He was waiting.
Finally, after too long, Vince’s vigil came to an end. From across the clearing, he could see DVA agents walking next to a sandy-haired man wearing sunglasses. Off like a shot, Vince bolted across the grass and nearly tackled his best friend in a hug.
“I wasn’t sure you were coming back through that portal.”
“I caught a lucky break, who would have guessed?”
It might have been Vince’s imagination, but he thought he saw the DVA agents wince slightly. Knowing Nick, he’d probably spent the last few hours running them around, giving them just enough information to put the basics of what happened together without truly answering any of their questions. The luck puns were part of that experience.
“Are you in trouble?” Vince finally released his embrace, though he didn’t move too far from Nick’s side.
“I’m a person of interest, which means I would be in trouble if they could find a way to spin it. The only provable things I’ve done today are tackle a teleporter, follow a man threatening to nuke everyone through a portal, and kill one of the most wanted criminals in the world, ostensibly before he could trick and murder my friend. That’s a murky situation even if they liked the guy; for someone like Crispin I think they’re afraid the other Heroes will throw me a parade if they find out. But enough about me and my antics, how did everything shake out here?”
Nick began pointedly walking them away from the DVA agents. Out here, among so many, it was folly to assume any words wouldn’t go overheard, but that was no reason to make it easy on them.
“Everyone we know is alive,” Vince replied, tackling what he considered to be the biggest issue first. “Most were injured to some extent, but between Camille and Hallow we’re all mended. There was one issue, though: Amber is getting a judicial review by the DVA. Apparently during the fight she got fast and loose with her explosions, hitting some Heroes in the process. Dean Blaine assured us that no one expects a temporarily authorized Hero asset to be perfect, so she won’t be charged with anything for hurting people.”
“But it doesn’t bode well for her chances at graduation.” Nick was hardly surprised, he’d clocked Amber as the type to skate by on raw power years ago. No doubt the HCP had hoped to educate her on discipline and control, but not every Super wanted to learn those lessons.
There was a sadness in Vince’s eyes as he nodded agreement. “Probably not. Anyway, everyone who came to the fight is alive, and that’s what matters. Globe is off getting interrogated, Shelby is safely in DVA custody, and the rest of Globe’s team have been showing up one by one to turn themselves in, except George. No one has seen him since the battle ended.”
Nick had almost forgotten that Vince didn’t know about Adam. It would come out in time, he was certain. As for George, assuming Adam kept his word, they’d likely find the body soon enough. Part of Nick held out hope that the guy had found a better way. Obviously Nick was no stranger to killing, yet he believed it should always happen with a purpose. That kind of death would do neither of George nor Adam any favors.
“So, everyone, or at least everyone we know, is safe. Globe and Shelby are no longer lost. Charles Adair and Crispin are off the game board. Hell of a day. Tell me, what comes next for the mighty Shuffle, champion of Intramurals from a generation that I guarantee goes down in the history books?”
Vince’s nose wrinkled slightly. “Shuffle?”
“I just assumed that was the name you’d take after what you said in Intramurals.” With a single glance, Nick realized the idea had never entered Vince’s mind. “You’re a great guy, but not always the most creative.”
“Yeah, but give me a little credit. Geez.” The footsteps halted as Vince stopped to look over at the bunker where so much of the truth had been buried. “I was actually thinking of something a little longer… something to remind me of what I realized in that fight with Conrad, of where I started this journey. Jack of All. Because, you know, I was a Jack when we started, and I kind of have some control over a bunch of energies instead of a single mastery of one…” Vince trailed off, his confidence wavering as he tried to read Nick’s inscrutable expression.
“Jack of All, huh? Bit of a mouthful, and you’re going to get a lot crude jokes from criminals. But it’s very… you. Earnest, comes from a humble place yet still manages to remind people what you can do. I like it.”
“Thanks. Let’s just hope nobody claimed it yet. Been kind of a busy day and I haven’t had time to check the databases.”
Under his breath, Nick suppressed a chuckle. “I think you’ll be okay.”
They stood in silence for a moment after that, and although neither knew it, they were both thinking back to that first day on Lander when they’d met,
when it was just the two of them, looking out onto four years of untold possibility. It was Vince who spoke at last; he would never be as comfortable with silence as Nick was.
“What now? I feel like we’ve been on this trail for so long, trying to find our parents and set right what they destroyed. I’m not totally sure where to go from here. What comes next?”
Nick threw an arm around Vince’s shoulders and tilted both their heads to the setting sun on the horizon. “Now? Now comes graduation, internships, field work, families, secret identities, and so much more. School is over, Vince. You’re about to become a true-blue certified Hero.” Slowly, Nick’s hand rose, turning into a finger pointing out to that burning horizon.
“Now, Vince, starts the true adventure called life. And I don’t know about you, but I can barely wait.”
Epilogue
Ten Years Later
“Run!”
“Where the fuck do you suggest we run to?”
Tensions were short as the bank-robbers paused to grab a quick breath. Shit, it had all gone so wrong. It was supposed to be simple. They had the right power set to get in and out of the bank before the Heroes would ever be able to respond, with an extra guy for muscle just in case one did show up. Of course, that extra strength hadn’t meant shit when he arrived. This wasn’t even his town, what were the odds that the Hero face them would be–
“Howdy.”
The group’s blood collectively froze as they turned down the alley to find him standing there: a Hero made of muscle, with a simple red and black costume and a thick, extra-dense bat slung casually over his shoulder. Their strongman hadn’t even managed to get off a single punch before being knocked out, hard. The Hero took a single step forward, and all of the robbers instantly broke, sprinting off in every direction as fast as they could.
