by C. C. Ekeke
The End
By
C.C. Ekeke
Monsters Among Men © 2019 by C.C. Ekeke
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing of C.C. Ekeke, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles.
C.C. Ekeke
www.ccekeke.com
1st Edition
ShatterHouse Press
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilogue
Author Notes
About the Author
For David
Thanks for taking me to that first comic shop.
Prologue
In her dreams, they were racing each other across the skies.
Not to stop another supervillain, or attend another charity event, or to save lives. Not even as their superhero aliases.
Just two superhumans adoring San Miguel from the air. Flying to see who was faster. Flying to enjoy defying gravity.
For the twenty-plus years she’d known Titan, the legendary superhero rarely flew just because. His first flight was to seek vengeance on those who’d wiped out his whole Native tribe. Since that day, Titan had almost always flown somewhere with purpose. To fight another villain or save another life.
Or to fuck another whore. The bitter thought jolted Lady Liberty back to reality. She blinked and looked around. The superhero was over fifteen thousand feet high above Greater San Miguel’s forest of model homes after midnight.
She wore her famous red costume—figure-hugging and covering all but her long, slender legs. A silvery diadem sat atop her dark neck-length bob, and her gold knee-high boots were polished to gleaming perfection.
But Lady Liberty flew across the cloudy skies alone.
The reminder of Titan’s murder knifed through her chest again.
Not here, Liberty told herself, swallowing renewed grief, not with this cargo.
So wrapped in her thoughts, Lady Liberty had forgotten her cargo hoisted overhead. A five-ton Toyota Camry with the driver inside.
During tonight’s San Miguel patrol, she’d spotted a middle-aged woman named Marla stranded off the Pacific Coast Highway.
After ten minutes of Marla's fangirling, Lady Liberty learned of her dead car battery and lack of roadside assistance. Marla’s home, in the suburb of Cambria, was minutes away.
Presently, Lady Liberty spotted Cambria’s familiar rolling vineyards and began their descent.
“We’re almost there!” she announced. “Once we’re lower, can you point me to your house?”
“O-okay,” Marla replied from her open window, justifiably nervous. “Everything’s so small up here.”
Lady Liberty chuckled at Marla’s wonder while descending into Cambria’s residential areas.
Minutes later, she gently placed Marla’s car on her driveway, then helped the woman out of the vehicle.
“Thank you so much, Lady Liberty!” Marla gushed, her accent adorably thick. The Mexican woman was rosy-cheeked and pudgy, with curly black hair streaked with grey. Lady Liberty, standing at five-feet-eleven, was a head and a half taller. Marla looked like someone’s favorite grandmother. “I don't know what I’d have done without you.”
“Glad to help.” Lady Liberty waved off the gratitude with a nonchalant hand. “Next time,” the superhero added, after indulging Marla’s selfie request, “consider joining AAA.”
Marla recoiled. “Excuse you?” Anger contorted her round face. “I am no alcoholic.”
Lady Liberty snorted. “American Auto Association,” she replied, enunciating each word.
Marla visibly relaxed. “Oh!” She blushed under the streetlights. “My son keeps saying I need that.”
“Your son sounds wise.” Lady Liberty smiled and patted the older woman’s shoulder. “Goodnight.” The superhero crouched before rocketing toward the skies.
Two hours later, Lady Liberty finished patrolling. Besides defusing a fight in Cayucos between two energy-absorbing supers, tonight had been quiet.
Before calling it a night, she had one final stop. And it would be her most difficult.
Flying toward Titan Commons, she counted several pockets of fans camped outside the barricades. The monument was two weeks away from opening to civilians.
Lady Liberty flew past security and trees and found Titan.
Well…not the real, living Titan.
A fifty-foot statue of the Central Coast Saint. Titan stood in that cliched heroic pose; hands on hips, feet hip distance apart, a broad smile on his square-jawed face. The sculptors had done amazing work. Bushy trees surrounded the statue, the leaves and branches pitch-black.
Lady Liberty’s heart skipped seeing that face as she landed in a crouch. Tossing her hair back, she rose in front of Titan’s statue, alone with the love of her life. They had removed the scaffolding three days back. Liberty could see Titan in that sculpture, the strength and the reassuring smile. God, the face was immaculate. His body’s true burial ground remained known only to a few friends Lady Liberty could count on one hand—besides herself. But Titan’s spirit filled every inch of this park, as it did San Miguel.
She closed her eyes to stem the tears. They leaked down her cheeks anyway. Three months since Titan’s death, and the pain refused to ebb.
Grief sapped her strength, bringing the superhero to her knees. She hadn’t sobbed at the funeral. Other than shedding a few tears, Lady Liberty had been stone-faced the whole ceremony. She had refused to give the media or fellow superheroes any window into her feelings. But alone in this unopened park, she surrendered to the ocean of sorrow. A violent sob racked her body. Then another. In that moment, Lady Liberty wasn’t a world-famous superhero. She was a woman who had lost the man she still loved even after they’d parted ways. It hurt so much, too much, knowing he’d died alone. Ragged, wordless anguish escaped from low in her throat.
Knowing Titan died for befriending the wrong person angered Liberty, scorching up her insides. What hurt most was her failure to protect Titan from himself…or Lord Borealis.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, gazing up at Titan’s statue, “that I couldn’t save you, Amaqjuaq.” It had been Titan’s birthname before gaining powers, given by his Native Inuit tribe. And long after losing his family to a nuclear holocaust, it was what Lady Liberty still called her soulmate in private.
Several minutes passed before she regain
ed any composure. Once her sobs faded, the only noises were her own labored breathing and distant, infrequent traffic beyond the Commons.
And a subtle shift of leaves in the murky branches above. So subtle, no normal human would’ve noticed.
But Lady Liberty was far from normal. Her features hardened in distaste for the unwelcome arrival.
“What do you want?” she snapped without turning, her voice rougher than intended.
Brief silence passed. “They have the wrong man." The snarling reply sounded almost animalistic.
Lady Liberty rolled her eyes, already over the discussion. “Again, with this shit?”
“Until ‘this’ gets through your thick skull,” the snarling voice threw back. Two glowing, blood-red eyes glowered down at her from the shadows. “Someone framed Lord Borealis.”
Lady Liberty wasn’t surprised. The uncompromising vigilante named Geist had peddled this nonsense conspiracy for months. According to him, someone other than reformed supervillain Lord Borealis had killed Titan, even with all evidence implicating Lord Borealis, currently in a supermax prison. Lady Liberty had tolerated Geist’s craziness through gritted teeth. Clearly this was his way of coping with Titan’s murder.
But disturbing her at Titan’s memorial? That crossed a line. “Rupert Champion told me you'd badgered him with your paranoid conspiracies before Titan’s funeral,” she seethed. “And Justice Jones. And Sentinel. And anyone else you could find. Everyone thinks Titan dying broke your brain. Now I’m starting to believe them.” Her mood souring further, she turned to fly away.
Geist hadn’t finished peddling his brand of crazy. “It’s the truth, yet only I am willing to pursue it.”
Lady Liberty stopped her liftoff and turned back to the branches. She was struggling to remain calm. For Titan’s sake. She and Geist had gotten along in the past but not like him and Titan. With the Central Coast Saint gone, their acquaintance had grown frayed. “Just because he was your friend doesn’t mean you’re the only one who cared.”
“Prove it. Help me find the real killer.”
Lady Liberty’s patience snapped. “The only murderer is Lord Borealis!” she seethed, her fury echoing across the park. “The same Lord Borealis tried to kill Titan so many times, so many ways for years! Who else could create a magnetic pulse that strong, Geist?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “WHO?”
Geist’s pause before replying was deafening, damning. “Don't know yet. Borealis can’t be Titan’s killer. It’s too…obvious.”
The retort sounded so reaching, Lady Liberty almost pitied him. She shook her head. “Sometimes, murders are that obvious. Not everything is a labyrinthine conspiracy only your rarified intellect can solve.”
That struck a nerve, which was her aim. Geist’s crimson eyes gleamed murderously in the shadows. “Do you always quit so easily?” he asked, rage coloring his growling tones. “No wonder you and Titan didn’t last.”
A flush of warmth crept up her neck. Lady Liberty almost turned around to backhand Geist across California. “Let’s clarify things, Geist.” Her cold and low voice belied the anger roiling inside. “Your war on crime in San Miguel persists because Titan and I allowed it. Keep pushing and that privilege disappears.” She snapped her fingers, underscoring her threat. “Like that.”
“Then I’m flying solo,” Geist growled after a long, weighted silence. “Again.”
“You guessed right.”
As Geist receded into the branches for his usual vanishing act, a pang of doubt hit Lady Liberty.
What if Borealis is innocent? That possibility never crossed her mind, even after a reporter recently asked a similar question. Now, slivers of doubt weakened her rock-solid belief. “Bring proof, and I’ll support you,” she blurted out. “If not, let that bastard Borealis rot in prison.” Hatred colored her words. If Borealis was guilty, she wanted him dead. But life imprisonment would have to suffice.
“Done,” Geist replied.
Lady Liberty moved to leave but caught the lack of finality in his brusque tone. “Something else?”
“Yes,” the vigilante growled. “The new super.”
She frowned. “That Lewis Middle School girl?” The youngster had explosively manifested last week, destroying part of a school building. Why would Geist care?
“Not the girl. The boy.”
Lady Liberty froze, knowing which boy he meant. Hugo Malalou’s reckless heroics almost got a family killed. “What about him?” she asked as calmly as possible.
Within the gloomy cluster of branches, Geist’s gleaming eyes narrowed. “Running around San Miguel, thinking he’s some hero. That house fire three weeks back proves how dangerous he is.”
Lady Liberty gave a harsh, humorless laugh. Geist, of all people, with his two strikes for rapists and murderers, calling someone dangerous. “Says the man who emptied two clips on him,” she scoffed.
“Don’t joke,” Geist snarled impatiently. “Are you going to stop him?”
She folded her arms, staring at twinkling stars peeking through the clouds. “Relax. Malalou’s no longer a problem.” The teen’s terrified reaction to Lady Liberty's warning was burned into her memory. Hugo would listen if he had any brains in his man-sized body.
Geist, always Mr. Worst-Case Scenario, remained unconvinced. “And if he doesn’t listen?”
“Then he’s my problem,” she replied, menace sharpening her words. “Which I’ll deal with.” She would throw that dumb, overpowered kid in an OSA black site herself if he defied her.
Geist didn’t reply.
Lady Liberty frowned and turned to the branches above. The glowing red eyes vanished. She whirled around, scanning the stretch of gloomy parkland with her heightened senses.
Geist had vanished.
She scowled in bewilderment. “How does he keep doing that?”
Chapter 1
Predawn gloom blanketed the Central Coast as Hugo Malalou sprinted up the shoreline.
His long, muscular legs pumped furiously. Only black workout shorts and modified running sneakers covered his six-foot-three chiseled frame.
An hour in, halfway to his destination, and Hugo barely felt fatigued. Sweat beaded down his cinnamon-brown torso. “Still plenty in the tank,” he boasted, pumping his legs faster.
Hugo didn’t used to run outside of P.E. classes or escaping meathead bullies. He used to hate running.
Now Hugo loved running every morning before dawn.
Everything got quiet and peaceful when he ran—especially at 423 mph!
He glanced at his watch’s speed tracker. Correction, 428 mph, up from two days ago. Up over one hundred and fifty miles from when his superpowers first manifested.
“Fuck yeah,” the Samoan teen exclaimed, pushing himself faster up the Pacific Coast Highway.
Air rippled in his wake, leaving Hugo alone with his thoughts.
Running circles around a derelict football field wasn't enough anymore. Hugo had to keep pushing his limits. Today was his first time racing from San Miguel to San Francisco. The cars he passed on the PCH, the ocean waves to his left rushing by in smears of darkened color, all appeared frozen. It felt sometimes like he was gliding impossibly fast across the concrete.
Several minutes later, the large green highway sign marking San Francisco’s borders appeared before him. He checked his stopwatch. An hour and forty-five minutes. Awesome. Hugo dashed to the sign, tapping it lightly enough not to knock the thing over. “Let’s get home faster.” Making a hard U-turn, he rushed in the opposite direction toward San Miguel.
Hugo covered 211 miles in under half an hour.
Exhausted yet satisfied, Hugo plopped down on the beach north of Hearst Castle to catch his breath. The sun had started climbing into the sky, bathing him in warmth.
The coast was empty, besides some giant elephant seals beached and asleep around him. In the solitude, Hugo watched the waves crash into the shore. And his mind soon drifted...
Months ago, when Hugo mysterious
ly received the late Titan’s powers, it had been a bittersweet winning Lotto ticket.
Finally, Hugo could save lives like Titan. Finally, he could impress Briseis El-Saden, the girl of his dreams. Finally, he could stop feeling so worthless and depressed over Dad’s suicide.
Then sophomore year started. And all those dreams imploded.
His first patrol in costume had been a disaster, ending with Lady Liberty threatening Hugo to stop superheroics…or face prison. Easy choice.
This came after learning that the Almighty Titan had cared more about screwing cape chasers than being a hero.
And Briseis, Hugo’s dream girl, had ended up being a nightmare disguised as a teenage dream. His own superhearing had caught the two-faced mean girl savaging him to her friends. That betrayal still felt like getting mule-kicked in the chest.
Superpowers had solved nothing. All these powers and few outlets had left Hugo angry, sad, and lost. His eyes welled up getting into these heavy feelings. Now what? He looked at his watch and popped to his feet. “Shit!”
A startled elephant seal nearby trumpeted its displeasure at the disturbance.
Twenty minutes till his eight-a.m. detention at Paso Robles High. Hugo had to shower and change first.
He still seethed over even getting detention. Apparently, defending a friend against bullies was frowned upon. Fuck Paso High. But he didn’t want any more trouble at school or home, so skipping wasn’t an option. At least the jocks who’d bullied his friend Simon—Baz Martinez, Cody Banks, and TJ Kim—also got detention. That’d be fun.
Glancing around, Hugo spotted three joggers a few miles down the beach. Not close enough to see him. He rocketed home at top speed, kicking up clouds of sand and freaking out every beached elephant seal.
Back at home in the San Miguel suburb Paso Robles, his brother AJ was still sleeping upstairs. Lucky bastard. Mom had already left for her hospital shift. Good. Things were kinda tense since their argument over Dad last week. Hugo had been avoiding her when possible.
He raced upstairs and stripped for a quick, hot shower before throwing on a grey V-neck tee and some black jeans. He almost left his short black hair alone. But at the last moment he applied some product, spiking it up. “I’m getting good at this,” he bragged, appraising his proper bedhead in the mirror. He glanced at his watch. Ten till eight. Time for breakfast. He went downstairs to curb his grumbling appetite. Using these powers had turned his stomach into a goddamn jet engine.
