The homeless man stared at the retreating five in awe. He got to his knees. His face turned up to the night sky. His hands were clasped in front of him.
“Thank you Jesus!” he prayed aloud.
Hardly.
Hannah is dead because I was too naive to predict the consequences of using my powers.
In Shangri-La, a ritzy residential subdivision in the northeastern part of the city, a masked man slid open a window on the first floor of the house of a family of four. A young female and a young male were asleep in separate bedrooms. A man and a woman, presumably the parents, were asleep in the master bedroom. The masked man crept upstairs, into the dark bedroom of the young female. I had no idea how he knew which was her bedroom or how he had gotten past the house’s alarm system. Perhaps he had been stalking her for a while now.
The man wrapped his hand around the female’s mouth, waking her. His other hand held a knife to her throat. He was aroused. My stomach churned. She had barely begun to develop, more girl than woman. She trembled in terror.
I flung the man off the girl. She screamed as the masked man sailed through the air, slamming into the opposite wall. For good measure, I rapped the back of his head against the wall a few times until I was sure he was unconscious. The parents were now up, getting out of bed. I turned on all the lights of the house at once. The parents rushed toward the girl’s screams.
Neha is dead because I wasn’t adept enough in the use of my enhanced powers to recognize the threat posed by the metal which bound her, I thought. I would never let something like that happen again. I would practice, practice, and practice some more until I was as well-versed in the use of my enhanced powers as it was humanly possible to be.
Darkness was approaching, both Seer and the Omega spirit had said. I planned to be ready. I would not fail someone again. Too many had already died thanks to me.
Downtown, not too far from the UWant Building, the Thug Three broke the high-impact front window of a high-end jewelry store. They clambered inside. They started smashing the store’s display cases. They stuffed jewelry into their pockets. The store’s alarm wailed, but it didn’t deter the crooks. This was just a quick smash and grab. The Thug Three no doubt planned to be long gone by the time the cops arrived at the scene. I had encountered these three hoodlums before when I was Kinetic. They were low-level Metas who used their powers to make quick scores to fund their drug habits.
I threw a force field up around the store. When the Thug Three tried to climb back out the window they had broken, they bumped against my invisible field. They were trapped like bugs in a glass jar. I would hold them here until the police arrived.
Beast, the super strong one of the bunch, tried to punch his way through my force field.
Yeah, good luck with that.
I sensed a presence land on the roof with me. After a while, with my eyes still closed, I said, “How long are you going to stand there staring at me?”
“You’re perched up here with your arms out and your eyes closed, like a zombie gargoyle,” Isaac said. “I planned on staring at you until you become less creepy. I figure it might be a while.”
I lowered my hands and opened my eyes. I turned to Isaac.
“The Guild have any luck finding Millennium?” I asked.
“No. No one’s seen him since he somehow escaped from the mansion. Now that the other Sentinels are back from Peru, maybe they’ll have better luck finding him. You’ve gotta hand it to him, managing to disappear despite what you did to him.”
I thought of Millennium’s hands lying on the floor of the Situation Room. “‘Gotta hand it to him.’ You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“It’s a gift and a curse.”
“There still talk about arresting me for destroying Mechano?”
Isaac shrugged.
“You know how people are. Opinions are like assholes: Everyone’s got one, and most of them stink. Half the Guild thinks you ought to be charged with murder and locked up in MetaHold, languishing alongside Seer and Brown Recluse until this whole thing gets sorted out. The other half thinks you should get a medal and a ticker tape parade for exposing the Sentinels’ corruption. The only opinion that really matters in this situation is that of the State’s Attorney. Laura Leonard, the attorney Truman recommended, says the law is murky in this situation as it’s never come up before. It all turns on whether you can be convicted of murdering someone who’s not technically human anymore. Laura says she can make a good argument that you can’t be. Time will tell.”
We were quiet for a while. I gazed out on the city, both with my eyes and my powers. I wasn’t worried about what would happen to me. I was worried about what would happen to the world. Darkness was approaching. Seer and the Omega spirit were right about that. Maybe it was the Omega suit, but I seemed to feel the encroaching threat in my bones, like when you felt a storm brewing. A day of reckoning was coming. I didn’t know from whom or from where, but it was coming.
I had to be ready for it.
With effort, I forced my mind back to the present. “What do you think?” I asked. “Do you think I did the right thing with Mechano?”
“I wasn’t there. It’s not for me to say. The more important issue is what you think. You’re the one who has to live with your actions.”
I nodded. His non-answer told me what Isaac thought.
I said, “I think that, despite the fact he wasn’t flesh and bone, Mechano was a mad dog who needed to be put down. I don’t regret it.” Using the words “mad dog” made me think of Antonio, trapped in The Mountain. I had not told Isaac about that. Isaac would not approve. Just like he didn’t approve of what I had done to Mechano, despite Neha being his friend too. Just like he wouldn’t approve of me cheating during the Trials. He was a better person than I was in a lot of ways. But Isaac wasn’t the Omega. I was. I had to do what I thought was best. Things looked different when the weight of the world was on your shoulders.
My mind had wandered. I realized Isaac now looked at me intently.
“If you don’t regret what you did to Mechano, why do you look so upset?” he asked.
I hesitated, reluctant to admit the truth out loud. The cold, almost emotionless fury I had felt when I confronted the Sentinels had thawed when I heard fear in Mechano’s voice for the first time. At the sound of his fear, my fury had transformed into something else. I remembered how I had looked, standing over Mechano’s body. I had seen my distorted reflection in his shiny torso. There had been a grim smile on my face when I destroyed him.
I thought of what Mad Dog had said to me. About how I was just like him.
“I’m not upset because I destroyed Mechano,” I finally said. “I’m upset because I enjoyed it so much.”
The End
In Rogues, Book Four of the Omega Superhero Series, Doctor Alchemy, the notorious supervillain who is also Neha’s father, blames Theo for his daughter’s death. He assembles enemies from Theo’s past to help him avenge Neha:
ROGUES: THE OMEGA SUPERHERO, BOOK FOUR
Turn the page for a note from the author.
Author’s Note
I hope you enjoyed reading about Theo and Company’s adventures.
Please take a moment to leave a review on Amazon for this box set of books. Reviews are a big aid in helping readers like you find books they might like.
Also, reviews help me sell books. The more books I sell, the more books I can write, and the more books you will have to read. It’s a win-win.
Besides, if my book sales dry up, I might have to go back to farming for a living. No one wants that. Especially me. There are harder ways to make a living than farming, but not many.
To continue with the Omega Superhero Series, pick up Rogues, the fourth book in the series. In that book, Theo tangles with Doctor Alchemy, the notorious supervillain who is also Neha’s father. You’ll find it on Amazon here:
ROGUES: THE OMEGA SUPERHERO, BOOK FOUR
And here’s another shameless plug: Lin
ks to all of my current superhero books are on the “Also by Darius Brasher” page which follows this Author’s Note.
In case you have not read any of my books before, I only write about superheroes. We superhero writers are as rare as hen’s teeth. Rarer still are we superhero writers who also use the expression “as rare as hen’s teeth.” It’s no doubt due to my farming background. If using uncommon expressions is my superpower, I’ll be the first to admit it’s a pretty lame one.
The Omega Superhero Series is actually the second series of superhero novels I wrote. The first series was about an uncostumed superhero and private detective named Truman Lord who used his powers to solve crimes. It was called the Superhero Detective Series. I am known for my archaic expressions, not my subtlety.
After writing four books in the Superhero Detective Series, I got the itch to write a more traditional superhero tale. The Omega Superhero Series was the result.
Many people have asked if more than just the current four Omega Superhero books will be published. In a word, yes. I got sidetracked writing a brand new series (my Sorceress Super Hero series), but I’ll be returning to Omega and his amazing friends shortly. The fifth book will be out later this year.
To be the first to hear about that and other books, join my email newsletter HERE. You’ll not only get news of my new releases, but you’ll also hear about sales and discounts regarding my existing releases and receive the occasional freebie. I usually send out an email to my mailing list once a month.
I have a superhero fiction writing campaign on the website Patreon through which readers like you can help support my work. I want to give a special thanks and shout-out to my existing Patrons who support my work at the rate of $5 or more per month: Marie Brant, Robert Britton, Regis Chapman, Marion Dillon, James Anderson Foster, Tommy Hennessy, Michael Hofer, Andrew Jones, Flint L. Miller, Kathy Mills, Bill Mooney, Jeffrey O’Neal, Tiffani Panek, and Bernadette Turner.
Guys and gals, thank you so much for your support! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.
If you want to join those fine folks and help me publish more and better books in exchange for getting exclusive perks such as cover reveals, sneak peeks at future books, autographed books, and other cool stuff for as little as $1 a month, check out my Patreon campaign: www.patreon.com/dariusbrasher.
Thanks so much for reading. Please turn the page for links to my other books and for excerpts from a couple of them.
~ Darius, March 2019
Also by Darius Brasher
Omega Superhero Series
Caped
Trials
Sentinels
Rogues
Sorceress Super Hero Series
Sorceress Super Hero
Monster Madness
Superhero Detective Series
Superhero Detective for Hire
The Missing Exploding Girl
Killshot
Hunted
Accused Hero
About the Author
Darius Brasher has a lifelong fascination with superheroes and a love of fantasy and science fiction. He has a Bachelor of Arts degree in English, a Juris Doctor degree in law, and a PhD from the School of Hard Knocks. He lives in South Carolina.
Email: [email protected]
Patreon: www.patreon.com/dariusbrasher
Excerpt From Sorceress Super Hero
The Cloak of Wisdom, circa 1400, read the plaque mounted on a stand next to the case. Acquired by wealthy businessman and occult enthusiast Ichiro Kato in 1971, Kato believed he could make the Cloak become a part of his body, and the Cloak then imparted to him knowledge and wisdom Kato used in the pursuit of his supernatural studies.
Next to these words on the plaque was a drawing of two hands with their palms out, wrists crossed, and the thumbs twisted around one another. Behind and slightly above the hands was the shadow of a bird, as if a light was shining at an upward angle on the entwined hands and throwing a bird shadow puppet on a wall behind them. I concluded it was supposed to be an eagle like the eagle on the clasp, but I still thought it was weird the drawing was there.
“Occult enthusiast? Supernatural studies?” I said. “Whatever happened to keeping the secret magical world a secret? Though I’m one to talk. That might not be a First Rule violation, but it’s awfully close.”
“I’m told everything on the plaque was taken verbatim from Kato’s will,” Daniel said. “Knowing someone else might need the Cloak one day, I suppose he thought he would hide it in plain sight à la The Purloined Letter.”
“The what kind of letter?”
Daniel sighed. The sound echoed off the walls of the enclosed space. “Sage, promise me you’ll spend some of the money I’m paying you on books. A sorceress who doesn’t read is like a rusty sword: You can still use it, but it doesn’t work as well.”
Smacking Daniel upside the head when this nonsense was over looked like a better and better idea with each passing moment.
But this nonsense was not yet over. The first step toward finding the Spear of Destiny and getting this know-it-all out of my life was to grab the Cloak of Wisdom and get the heck out of dodge. The longer I stayed here, the greater the chance I’d get caught here.
I raised my hand, about to probe the case the Cloak was in to see how strong it was.
Daniel pushed my hand away. “Let’s look before we leap,” he said. “Maybe there’s an alarm or some other sort of protection in place.” He raised his wooden staff. He held it in front of the transparent case. He closed his eyes, concentrating. The dark wood began to shimmer with rainbow colors.
Increasingly impatient to get the cloak and get out of here, I glanced around for something to break the case with once Daniel gave me the go-ahead.
A few steps away was a dark metal rod resting on a waist-high display case. I went over to it. Up close, it reminded me of a metal baseball bat, only the rod was over five feet long. Also, the rod had wicked-looking metal spikes on its top half. According to the plaque next to the rod, it was a kanobō, which translated into metal stick in English. The plaque said it was a two-handed war club used by the samurai in feudal Japan.
If it was good enough for the samurai, it was good enough for me. I picked the two-handed club up with one hand because, unlike the samurai, I had super strength. Score one for feminism.
I took it back over to the Cloak of Wisdom. Daniel still stood before the case, with his eyes closed and the Ark fragment shimmering.
My toe tapped impatiently as I waited. To say I was antsy would be a massive understatement. My fears of going back to prison had me convinced an armed guard was going to stroll in here any minute now on an unscheduled patrol.
Finally, I couldn’t stand waiting any longer. “You detect any alarms on the case?” I asked.
“No,” Daniel said, frowning slightly with his eyes still closed. “But—”
“Then what the heck are we waiting for?” My patience was at the end of its rope. “Stop pussyfooting around.”
I stepped forward. I swung the metal club at the case like I was trying to hit a homer at Nationals Park.
There was a huge crash, like that of a car driving into a streetlight. The impact of the kanobō on the case reverberated up my arm painfully. The case cracked like a dropped hard-boiled egg, with ever-expanding fissures racing all throughout it. Daniel’s eyes flew open. He jumped back, startled.
The case shuddered for a moment, as if an earthquake had hit it. Then, all at once, the case collapsed loudly into a multitude of pieces on the wood floor.
I looked with satisfaction at my handiwork. Sometimes a situation called for a hammer instead of a scalpel. Now nothing stood between us and the Cloak of Wisdom. All I had to do was reach out and take it. Easy peasy lemon squeazy.
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see the red clay sculpture rising out of its chair as if it had been napping and the racket had awakened it. The Hebrew letters on its head and its sunken eyes glowed red, as if a LED wa
s in its skull.
The glowing red eyes looked straight at me and Daniel. The sculpture grabbed the solid stone chair it had been sitting on and picked it up with one arm. The chair must have weighed several hundred pounds.
The sculpture whipped the chair at me and Daniel.
I dove to my left, plowing into Daniel with my shoulder. We fell to the hard floor as the stone chair rocketed through the space we had occupied an instant before. The chair slammed into the far wall with a crash that might have awakened the First Family over a mile away as the crow flies in the White House.
“I was saying the Ark fragment detected some sort of magical trigger in the case,” Daniel yelled in my ear, “and that we shouldn’t act until I figured out how to disarm it.”
“Oh,” I said.
The big statue lumbered toward us. The floor shook ominously with each of its steps.
SORCERESS SUPER HERO
Excerpt From Superhero Detective For Hire
Late one afternoon about a week and a half after David Hoff was killed, I returned to my office building after standing up for truth, justice, and the American way. Actually, that’s not true. Upholding truth, justice, and the American way was above my pay grade. I let world-renowned Heroes like the Sentinels and the other Heroes who flew around in tights worry about such things. My daily concerns were a lot more prosaic: doing the things my clients hired me to do. If truth and justice were a side effect of that, so much the better. What were truth and justice anyway? I might not recognize them if I tripped over them. I was a Hero, not a philosopher.
Unfortunately, as far as my client Eileen Rothbury was concerned, I was doing a pretty lousy job so far of doing what she was paying me to do. I still had no idea of who killed George Chase. By that point I had spoken to a slew of the women George had slept with and blackmailed. I had not even gotten to all of them yet. George had been quite prolific in his bedmates, and there were still women I needed to interview. I had also interviewed some of their husbands and the people who could attest to their alibis. The ones who had alibis, that is. I had also spoken to some of my contacts in the underworld to see if they knew anything about George’s death. I had consulted with the police. I had a bunch of facts and leads and things to follow up on. It was times like this I wished I had a staff to help me. Or, at least a young male sidekick who wore tights, exclaimed “Holy Toledo Truman!” periodically, and with whom I could have homoerotic tension.
Omega Superhero Box Set Page 80
