by R. J. Ross
“Sure I can,” Shadowman says, throwing me off of him as if I weigh nothing. “Do you really think I’m going to give up this opportunity just because you say I have to?” He gets to his feet, heading for the portal again, only to curse. “They’re here,” he complains. “You just had to go and alert the big names, didn’t you? This could have been cleaned up by now!”
“No it couldn’t!” I say. “All you’d have done is kill him—there’d still be a mess everywhere else. But you don’t care, do you? You’d probably run off to someplace that wasn’t affected and be perfectly happy, wouldn’t you?”
“Wait, is this supposed to be making me feel guilty? Because, seriously, all it’s doing is giving me a good idea,” he says. “I like it. But you forgot the part about getting drunk,” he says. “Now I don’t have time for this—the moment they slam him into something, I’m going to finish it,” he says, heading for the nearest portal to watch the fight outside.
“I can’t let you do that,” I say, realizing just what it will mean. “If you do that, you’ll make either Nico or Century look like a murderer.” I race forward, tackling him again, but this time grabbing on—
And we slam right through the portal, into the fight. Well… it was supposed to be a fight, right?
***
Century, Nico, and Herold float over the White House, two on one side, one on the other. “Do you really think you have a chance right now? Give up now and we might go easy on you!” Century says after a long moment.
“You underestimate me,” Herold says. “Sure you have your picture perfect technopath beside you, but there’s one thing I have that he doesn’t,” he says.
“And what would that be?” Century asks, his hand in the air, posed to stop time.
“A long history with both military and government careers,” Herold says. All around them large structures shoot out of the ground. They spread out, almost killing several people standing in the wrong places. Nico lets out a curse and shoots straight up, leaving Century to try and stop time. Half of the structures are stopped—but half is all that Herold needs in this case.
The structures let out a bright flash of light, blinding the time stopper hero. It hits him straight on, and he plummets to the earth, his body shrinking and aging rapidly as his powers are stripped. The huge wave of power blocking electric wavelengths is enough to strip ALL of his powers, unlike the little gun version.
Herold starts laughing, still floating within a glowing orb of light. “No super will be able to come within four hundred miles of this place,” he says, tapping into their precious com-link with a wave of his hand. “Just try and I’ll strip your powers, just like I did Century’s,” he says, “and Technico’s.”
The world jerks back into motion as Century’s power is cut off. The rest of the machines shoot up and light up the skies. The norms scream, covering their eyes from the light and cringing, as if it’ll do something. When the light doesn’t disappear they wave their arms blindly, running into one another. The only ones that seem to be affected more than blindness are the two familiar faces on the ground.
Herold goes down, standing over Shadowman and his son. “How convenient,” he says, leaning down and picking them both up by whatever machines they’re wearing. Shadowman floats strangely, held up by the cellphone in his pocket. He looks ancient, almost dead, and Herold lets him stay that way for a few more seconds before drawing him into the protective shield. “I can’t have you dying just yet,” he says. “I still need you.”
The boy looks much the same as he did before losing his powers—in fact he’s already stripping off all of his technology and ripping some sort of thin panels out of his hoodie. He drops to the ground, running away at a pathetically slow speed. Herold lets the boy go, his mind going to the largest problem in the area. There’s a chance that Technico got far enough away to keep his powers. It’s a slim chance—but he hasn’t seen the man plummet to his death just yet.
If Technico still has his powers, he has a problem. There’s one way to find out, he thinks, heading high into the air. He reaches out, finding the one spot Technico would guard with his life.
The Cape Cells go completely dark and half a dozen villains jerk as their collars spark and die.
***
I’m not running away, I’m making a tactical retreat. I don’t do well with bright lights, okay? But there’s something way more important in my mind—Century is down here somewhere and unlike me, he could probably die from having his powers stripped. I just need to wait until Herold’s gone and—I tug my hoodie forward, hiding from the light and looking down as I search for the fallen hero. There, I think, seeing the ancient looking man lying on the ground, dressed in uniform. I head over and pick him up, grunting with the weight. He’s lost a lot of weight in the change, but I’ve lost a lot of strength, too. I pull his arm over my shoulders and start walking. At any moment Herold is going to notice us, I think, trying to go faster. Century is barely moving—but he IS moving, which is a good sign. He’s still alive, just ancient.
“You should leave me,” he says in a raspy voice.
“Not a chance,” I say. “I need Hall Leaders to owe me—I’m a distance traveler. Being stuck in just one territory would suck.”
It startles a laugh out of him. I keep pulling him along, dreading the moment that Herold notices us. Did Nico escape? I hope so. I don’t think anyone else can deal with this guy if he didn’t. I know I can’t. “I hate to say this,” I tell Century, dodging a group of blind norms, “but maybe Shadowman had a good idea.”
“We try to avoid those ideas,” Century says. We can’t walk four hundred miles with him like this, I realize abruptly. He’ll die long before we get out. My eyes scan the crowd of blinded norms—and fall on a car parked on the street. That couldn’t have killed machines, right? If it had, the machines putting out the light would be off. I head for the car, cursing as the doors remain locked. “Okay, we can find another—surely someone left their doors unlocked and… and their keys in the car, right?” I say, my hope dying even as I speak. “I should have taken Skye up on her driving lessons,” I mutter, leaning Century against the car and running to the next, and the next. I finally come to a news van, swinging the back door open and looking inside—where a large man is hunched over a console.
“Thank GOD, man!” I say. “Do you want to be a hero?”
He looks up blankly, slowly tugging his headphone off. “What?”
“I’ve got to get Century four hundred miles from here—can you help us out?”
“Century?” he repeats, his eyes widening. “But why—” I’m running away before he can finish that, a long few minutes later I come back, practically carrying the fallen hero.
“Meet Century,” I say, helping Century up into the van. “And he’s going to die if we stick around here, so hit it.”
“But—oh wow, you look terrible,” he says to Century, stumbling slightly as he heads to the driver seat. Before I know it, we’re careening into the street, racing around other cars. “I’ve got tinted windows,” he says over his shoulder. “I’m pretty proud of them, you know? Hey, did you see a reporter from Channel 11 out there?” he asks. “I’m probably going to get fired for leaving her here.”
“We’ll get you a job with the Hall,” I say, crouching over Century to keep him from being tossed around. “Let’s just hope he didn’t notice,” I add, daring to glance at the back door. There aren’t any windows here, and I am extremely thankful for that fact.
“If I don’t make it,” Century says, making me look at him again, “Voltdrain will take over the South Branch. Flame will be second in command. Make sure they get Vinny and his team, as well.”
“You’re going to make it,” I say, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly. “We just need to go four hundred miles—at this speed it shouldn’t take any time at all,” I promise, looking him in the eyes.
“Tanks!” the driver says. “We’ve got tanks coming down the road! The military is
coming to save us!”
I look at him. “Herold’s a technopath,” I say. “Whatever weapons they bring in, he’ll put to his own use.”
“Oh. Wow. That really sucks, doesn’t it?” he says after a long second. “We should tell them, right? Do we have time to tell them?”
“They’ll figure it out soon enough,” I say grimly. “Besides, if we’re lucky and they bombard him, maybe one of those stupid machines will get taken out.”
“Shouldn’t that Technico guy be taking care of this?” the driver asks me. “He’s a technopath, right?”
“Yeah, but he might have been caught in the light,” I say. “Except… Zoe wasn’t. Century, do you still have a com-link?” I ask. He smiles a bit, his eyes slightly faded.
“He didn’t think I was worth robbing,” he says. “Probably thinks I’m dead already—here,” he says, pulling it from his ear. “Maybe he hasn’t checked the dispatcher’s channel,” he says.
I slip it in my ear. “Zoe, we need your help. And has anyone heard from Technico?”
***
“We screwed up,” Nico says to himself as he starts falling to the ground almost four hundred miles away. If there are any heroes around, maybe they’ll hear him, although he doubts there is anyone left. He’d almost managed, he thinks. He should have just crushed the machines, but he’d thought Century could stop time in time—hah. That sentence was ridiculous. He ignores that, his mind feeling extremely sluggish. “I’m going to die, I think,” he adds as he realizes that the fall is getting faster and faster. His powers are gone. He’d almost made it, he thinks darkly again. He was just a little too slow—
Someone grabs him around the waist, jerking him to a stop. He looks up, staring blankly at his dad. “He stole my powers,” he says flatly, once what happened sinks in.
“I noticed.”
“Can you land? I need to try a reboot,” Nico says.
“Reboot? This isn’t the first time you’ve used that term,” Superior says, landing and letting go. “How do you do that, if you don’t have any powers?” he asks curiously.
“I don’t know, but I have to try. The military is moving in—if he gets a hold of their weaponry, we’re even more screwed than we already are,” Nico says flatly, sitting on the ground and closing his eyes. “Come on… come on…”
“Should I get Aubrey?” Superior asks.
“Yeah, but not for me. It sounds like Rocco is trying to get Century out before he dies. Now go, I’ve got to focus,” Nico declares, looking angry. “I should have let Shadowman take him out.”
“Where is Shadowman?” Superior asks.
“Herold has him.”
“I see. Then I’ll just be going,” Superior says, flying away and leaving Nico sitting there. For a long moment the technopath does nothing except sit there and close his eyes.
“D—Technico?” Zoe says over his personal com-link. “What should we do?”
“For now stay off all lines,” Nico says. “Without my abilities I can’t tell if he’s hacking in or not. He probably is.”
“I can, but just in case I’ll use my phone, instead,” she says. The world goes silent and he concentrates on the fact that it’s cold. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt cold, a little voice whispers. The ground is hard, too, and he’s feeling really STUPID just sitting here hoping something good will happen.
Maybe he should have asked his dad for a television, too.
***
This is taking too long, I think darkly, listening to Century’s rough breathing. Even going sixty miles an hour, it’ll take too long. Zoe is on the other line, arranging something with Marigold—I don’t blame her for leaving me out of this conversation, honestly. Marigold and I don’t exactly get along. I almost jump as I hear a helicopter overhead.
“Hey—um—Century? Kid?” the driver says. “This helicopter is hovering right over our heads—I think they want us to pull over or something.”
“Do it,” I say, feeling a trickle of hope hitting me. The van swerves, pulling to a hard stop, and I head out the back door, praying that it’s from Marigold and not Herold. I step out, holding up both hands and daring to look up. The light isn’t as strong here, but it’s still bright enough to make me wince. “Are you from East Hall?” I yell up to them.
“We are. Are you carrying who we’re looking for?” the man hanging out of the front seat yells back.
“How do I know you aren’t lying?” I demand.
“Because we’re official black suits, as you call us,” he yells back. “We’re just wearing our old gear—we’re retired military.” He tosses a wallet down to me and I grab it, looking at the official card inside. I flip through the rest of the wallet, earning a dark look, and then nod.
“He’s in the back, he’s really frail right now, so you’re going to have to land,” I call up to them. The helicopter lands and they bring out a stretcher to collect Century. “Do you have a healer coming?” I demand. “He’s going to need one.” I hand back the wallet as they load him on the helicopter.
“Yes, sir,” the man old enough to be my dad—well, not MY dad, obviously—says. “You’re coming with us,” he adds pointedly. I look at the van, hesitating.
“If you get fired, call up Central Hall,” I tell him. “Tell them Rocco said to call—no, tell them Nico did. I’m sure he won’t mind.”
“Got it. Thanks, I feel a little heroic now.”
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Larry,” he says. “Larry Haggerville,” he adds.
“Got it. Thanks, man,” I say, shaking his hand before rushing to the helicopter. I jump into the back, only to lean back in my spot and breathe a little hard. “Man, I hate this feeling,” I mutter, running a hand over my face.
“What happened, exactly?” one of the suits asks, crouching over Century and checking his vitals. “Are you SURE this is Century?”
“That’s Century,” I say. “He’s wearing the uniform, isn’t he? Basically those lights strip supers of their powers,” I explain darkly. “I’m a shadow walker, I can’t even run without getting breathless, now. But the older capes, well…” I motion down to Century with a scowl. “It’s deadly.”
“How did Senator Herold do this?” the driver demands.
“He’s a technopath,” I say. “He’s responsible for all the havoc that’s been going down for the past couple of hours.”
“The biggest anti-super politician in the world IS one?” the driver asks, shocked.
“Nico exposed him on television, so he blew everything up, as far as I can tell,” I say. “Can you take me to a hospital near here?” I ask, looking over the world. “It’s that way, about forty miles. I mean, that’s where I left her, at least.”
“Left who?”
“One of the healers I hunted down,” I say, closing my eyes and slowly starting to feel better. We must be near the limits of the light, I think. I know exactly where I am. “If we keep going at this rate, he might not even need a healer,” I say, glancing over at Century. He’s already starting to look stronger. “Good. We’re going to need him.”
The one that had been trying to give him first aid looks shocked. “Wow,” he says. “That’s amazing.”
“Ah… um… you’ll keep all of this to yourself, right?” I say suddenly, realizing just how dangerous it is. “The whole losing powers problem—”
“Oh, that’s not a big surprise,” the driver says. “We’ve been given tours of the Cape Cells.”
“Yeah…” I stop, wondering why I suddenly feel worried. It’s right on the edge of my mind, like there’s a really big problem that we’re overlooking…
But that Mother lady is being guarded by Tatiana and Superior, so she isn’t the problem, right? So… considering all the crap that’s gone on in the past few hours, what ELSE could be wrong?
Instead of worrying about it more, I sit down and stare at one of the most famous heroes as he gets his powers back.
Wait, that means I
’ll have MY powers back soon, right? I jerk, looking around the helicopter, and reach for the wall in front of me. My fingertips sink slowly into the shadow. “Just a little bit further,” I tell them. “Once we get to where I can use my abilities, we’ll be good. I can take him to a healer just to make sure he’s back to one hundred percent.”
“I hate to say this, but aren’t you a villain?” the black suit next to me asks. “Technically we shouldn’t trust one of the Hall Leaders to you—”
“He’s one of mine,” Century says, even his voice sounding stronger. “At least, he’s going to be. Aren’t you, Rocco?” he asks, looking at me. His eyes are sharp and clear, and he’s starting to fill out his uniform again, as well. For a while there it draped over him like a shroud on a skeleton.
“If I can keep working for Nico and Zoe on top of it,” I say, much to the shock of the black suits. “Speaking of Nico, has anyone heard from him?” And what about my father? He’s probably dead, or wishing he was by now.
That idea makes me feel a little sick, but I try not to show it.
***
The journey into the White House had been terrifyingly simple, Shadowman thinks as he’s carried along by Herold. All of the alarms are taken out with a wave of a hand, all of the bullets spark against the ball of energy that surrounds them and fall to the ground. “This is why I was never going to vote for you,” he drawls, unable to help himself.
“That hurts me, Shadowman, it really hurts me,” Herold says in a patently false voice. “Your son turned and ran like the coward he is, you know. You should be so proud of him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“It doesn’t, does it? You’re exactly like your mother—crazy as hell.”
He gets thrown across the room, into the light. Slamming against the wall breaks his spine. He falls limply to the ground. And since his powers are taken, it doesn’t heal. He’s going to be crippled for the last few moments of his life. He should have killed the guy a long time ago, he thinks for the hundredth time. A shadow here, a pulled out heart there, it’s all part of a day’s work—
