by C. C. Ekeke
“San Lorenzo,” the burlier of the two guards answered. No one spoke until the transport reached San Lorenzo, the former mission-turned-sanctuary.
At first, Greyson couldn’t see anything through the thick jungle. Once they got deep into the forest, he could discern the towering mission carved into a sheer red cliff face.
Inside, San Lorenzo fascinated Greyson more, reaching many levels underground. Indoor agriculture situated on micro terraces, quarters for people to inhabit. And with recruits from AmeriForce’s victories across the island, new occupants packed San Lorenzo’s halls.
Greyson had been told why the royals hadn’t touched San Lorenzo. A mixture of religion and law. In Amarantha’s founding charter, the mission was designated neutral ground where island rulers could meet in truce. And for decades that had been the case. But if the royals had known San Lorenzo had become AmeriForce’s headquarters, the mission would’ve been bombed to dust years ago.
The guards stopped once they’d reached the entrance to a rocky warren of lodgings. “You're in Asuncion Quarter, yea,” the tallest guard motioned, his Amaranthine accent heavy. “Three levels down in the southernmost wing.”
Greyson entered, relieved when they didn’t shoot him from behind.
After strolling through dim tunnels several minutes, murmurings reached Greyson. And someone pontificating in poetic Amaranthine.
Greyson stepped into a large common area filled with people sitting or standing while eating delicious-smelling food. Everyone’s attention was on one of many viewscreens positioned around the rocky space. An unfriendly-looking man in his early forties dominated the screen, well-dressed with short brown hair. His cool, hazel eyes glared at Greyson while he spoke in forceful Amaranthine. Greyson guessed this was a warning from one of the two unconquered cities. And since a Lady of the City ruled Côte Royale, this must be Olivier Bowen, the brash Lord of Merenwjick.
Glancing about, Greyson saw everyone rapt by Lord Olivier's speech. Familiar faces packed this chamber, including Connie. She was speaking to Rodrigo. Greyson also spotted CJ beside Solomon Shen, whose arm was draped across her shoulders. Greyson blinked, not realizing they were an item. At least someone found happiness. He looked away before his thoughts drifted to Lauren.
Now Connie marched up with Rodrigo, arms spread. “Hirsch. Where were you?”
Around Rodrigo, Greyson watched his words. “Long story.” He nodded at the viewscreens where the Lord of Merenwjick droned on. “Olivier Bowen?”
“Yep.” Connie seemed irked at the deflection but didn’t push. “He looks like a Bond villain.”
Greyson snorted.
Rodrigo frowned. “What’s a Bond villain?”
Greyson ignored him. “I heard Bowen has a superweapon like a Bond villain.”
Connie giggled. “Including Mutant sharks with laser guns?” They both laughed, leaving Rodrigo more confused.
“Jesus, we shouldn’t be joking!” Greyson sobered and looked to Rodrigo. “What’s he saying?”
The young Amaranthine eagerly answered. “Bowen demands AmeriForce’s surrender and control of all captured cities to Côte Royale and Merenwjick.”
Rodrigo wasn’t done. “Then Lord Olivier calls for AmeriForce’s execution and supers rebelling against Amarantha’s natural order to be jailed. If they refuse, Lord Olivier vows to destroy them with the combined power of Merenwjick and Côte Royale.”
Greyson swallowed, regretting his bravado. “Guess a truce is DOA.”
“Côte Royale and Merenwjick joined forces?” Connie seemed stunned by this.
“Absolutely,” Greyson replied. “House Fourmon wants revenge after Asher Fourmon lost his fiancée.” He glared at Rodrigo. “Thuraya Carneiro.”
The young Amaranthine deflated. “Oops.”
“Now I’m worried,” Connie admitted privately, after Olivier Bowen had finished. “Fighting House Bowen’s military is scary enough. Especially after what they did to Summerhill.” She was about to continue until something caught her eye.
Greyson turned to see a skinny soldier with the AmeriForce logo on his chest. “You’ve been summoned, Mr. Hirsch.”
Greyson flinched but quickly grasped that AmeriForce could've killed him back in Noordaal. “Your quarters,” he mouthed to Connie before leaving. “Later. Bring CJ.”
She subtly nodded in understanding.
After trekking through a few tunnels of dark-red earth, Greyson reached a chamber with Tigre, Frostknife, and Radiant. Their pet telepath, Clarice, appeared behind him as a safety measure.
“Hope you’re feeling well?” Tigre asked in the amiable tone of a friend.
Greyson wasn’t having it. “You want a thank you for releasing me from the cell you threw me in?”
Radiant and Clarice seethed at the impudence. Frostknife glowered daggers at him from across the room.
Tigre bristled. “We wanted to discuss the Merenwjick invasion.”
“We’ll need you against House Bowen,” Frostknife forced out, so angered she couldn’t meet Greyson’s eyes. “Once they’ve fallen, Côte Royale and any remaining human strongholds go next.”
Tigre stood. “We have a plan to breach Merenwjick’s forcefields…which requires your power.”
“Can we trust you, Mr. Hirsch?” Radiant asked.
Greyson’s answer was never in doubt, even after what he knew about AmeriForce. “I’ll do what’s best for Amarantha.”
Tigre’s smile displayed jagged teeth. “I like that.” The catlike super shook Greyson’s hand. “We’ll discuss details in a few days.”
After they dismissed him, Greyson found Connie’s quarters. The living space wasn’t large but appeared homey, with a bed, closet, bathroom, and dining table. Connie sat on her bed with CJ, deep in conversation. “Why the super-secret meeting?” Connie asked after hugging Greyson.
“I’m betting my room is being watched or bugged,” he revealed.
Connie gawked. CJ, equally distressed, ran anxious fingers through her curly locks. “Where’s Rodrigo? Aren’t you two buddies?”
Greyson winced. “I can’t trust him anymore.” The reality saddened him. But AmeriForce had trained Rodrigo. His allegiances were obvious.
He flopped down on Connie’s bed. “Have you seen what’s happening to human Amaranthine? Not just the royal families.”
Connie’s gaze fell, answering the question. CJ was more vocal. “I heard things.”
Greyson cut to the chase. “AmeriForce wants to rule Amarantha and subjugate the humans instead.” He explained his imprisonment the night before along with Tigre and Frostknife's true intentions. “They’ve installed loyalists in Dourado, Bellazul, Angelique, and Noordaal to enforce their rule,” Greyson told his stunned audience.
Connie’s heartbroken reaction felt to him like being shot. She staggered back against a wall. CJ sank to a kneeling position. Greyson fell sick confessing this. But things would grow worse once AmeriForce took over the island in a few days. He had no clue if he could prevent these “superheroes” forthcoming dictatorship. But Greyson had an idea where he might learn their next moves. “AmeriForce is probably including Solomon in their plans. Have you heard anything from him?”
CJ shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “We don’t do much talking when we’re together.”
“Please try,” Greyson pressed. He knew how gross his question sounded. But there were little resources and even less time. “If AmeriForce takes over Amarantha, that won’t bode well for the human Amaranthines.”
CJ rose, offended. But she nodded and marched out of the room.
Greyson and Connie sat side by side on her bed a while, both processing this painful truth and what AmeriForce’s forthcoming rule meant.
“I should’ve known this redemption thing was too good to be true,” Connie finally confessed. She looked so lost and sad. “What now?”
Seeing her in pain killed Greyson. He reached out, caressing his fingers along her neck. “Don’t know. Their support from the local s
upers is solid. And AmeriForce’s original members outnumber me.”
“Us,” Connie corrected tartly. “Fighting them would be suicidal.”
Greyson chuckled, forgetting to whom he spoke. “What do we have to lose or go home to?”
Connie turned her head so their eyes met. “Whatever you’re planning, I’m with you.”
Greyson stared deep into her eyes, seeing resoluteness, loyalty, and beauty in ways he’d never allowed himself to. “I figured.” This could be his last night alive if they failed to stop AmeriForce. For tonight, Greyson didn’t want to wallow in the trauma that had brought him here. He leaned in, capturing Connie’s lips with a tender kiss.
She pulled away. Connie fought to keep her expression neutral. “Are…are you sure?”
“Yes,” Greyson answered. Some guilt lingered in the back of his thoughts. That didn’t keep him from pulling Connie into a more forceful kiss.
She responded eagerly. After several blissful moments, Connie shoved Greyson on his back and climbed onto him. Soon, they were tearing one another’s clothes off.
Chapter 38
Stars danced before Hugo’s eyes while he wedged fingers between his neck and Khan’s beefy forearm. This furry behemoth pressed all his weight on him while choking Hugo from behind. Jesus, this liger's strong! It was taking considerable effort to stay conscious. All Hugo needed was to free himself and he could outmuscle this furball. Meanwhile, Mr. Proctor was putting final touches on the bomb vests he’d attached to the upside-down students.
An icy shudder ran through Hugo. There had to be some humanity left in Proctor. Hugo had to try reaching that. “Please don’t do this!”
The teacher looked over his shoulder and rose. His blank expression was frightening. “Someone must stop these heartless children.”
Hugo knew what entitled, heartless children were capable of…and what he’d almost done to one at Fall Fling. “Would Shauna want you killing in her name?” he probed, slowly pushing to a knee as Khan tightened the chokehold.
Proctor smiled with unmasked pride. Hugo knew then the teacher was too far gone. “She’d be proud her daddy fought back.” Proctor watched Hugo disdainfully. “You should’ve done the same instead of trying to reach my better angels…whoever you are.”
“My name,” Hugo growled from deep in his chest, “is…AEGIS!”
He exploded off the floor. Carrying Khan on his back, he rammed the ceiling as hard as possible. A loud crack of cement came with anguished yowls.
Suddenly, Hugo could breathe, right as the floor rushed up and smacked his face. He rolled away and sprang to his feet—moments before Khan fell.
The liger rose into a crouch. Shaking his shaggy head, he roared and lunged.
But Hugo was ready, enhanced senses trained on his foe. Ducking three consecutive paw swipes, he sank rapid-fire uppercuts into Khan’s torso. The liger whined and slumped to his knees. He aimed one last desperate swipe at Hugo, faster than anyone could blink.
Not Hugo. He caught Khan’s paw by the wrist and squeezed. The bones cracked like popcorn. Khan arched his back and howled.
A stiff backhand to the jaw sent the liger sailing across the room. He knocked over several metal containers and slid to the floor.
Hugo snatched a few steel pipes, binding his foe’s arms and legs together superfast. He whirled on Proctor with barely checked rage.
The jowly man watched his fallen partner, unsure of his next move. “So much for that.”
Hugo advanced on him. “You’re not escaping.”
Proctor looked confused. “Who said anything about escape?” He tapped his watch.
Brent, McKenna, and Kerry’s vests lit up, each clock displaying one-minute countdowns.
Proctor ripped open his shirt, revealing a vest counting down from fifty-seven seconds.
Hugo picked his jaw up off the floor. “Are you serious?”
…fifty-two seconds…
Proctor spread both hands. “I would've sent Kerry to the townhall and kill the parents who raised monsters like these.” He ran through his thwarted plan with relish. “Then Brent and McKenna to that basketball party. But call this my contingency—”
Hugo circled the room at blistering speeds.
…forty-five seconds…
Instants later, Hugo stood before Proctor, holding three unfastened bomb vests. He’d also moved the teens and Khan directly under the manhole he’d entered a mile away.
For the first time, Proctor looked worried. “Shit.”
“I watched you latch those vests and did the reverse.” Hugo smiled proudly, but now wasn’t time to gloat with these bombs still active. He glanced at Proctor’s vest.
…thirty-eight seconds…
“Please,” Hugo pleaded. “Deactivate the bombs.”
Proctor’s gaze went from glassy to malicious. “I won’t fail Shauna like you failed Violet Torres and Paul Moreno, Aegis.”
“Excuse me?” Hugo was so shocked he almost dropped his Aegis voice.
…thirty seconds…
Proctor’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Or do you prefer Hugo?”
A cold shock ran down Hugo's spine. He stared back in horrified silence.
Proctor regained his poise. “The camera on Kevin Coleman’s vest couldn’t make out who attacked Khan in the dark. But his description sounded so familiar,” he continued casually, as if explaining a math problem. “Then, all but two people mysteriously survive the library bombing. And you emerge without injury carrying Ms. El-Saden. Refusing medical help.”
…twenty-three seconds…
Hugo couldn’t find his voice. The man he was trying to save could end his superhero career before it began. On instinct, Hugo reached for Proctor’s vest.
Proctor held two fingers up with casual arrogance. “This automatically explodes if you try removing it. And even if you can save me, I know your secret.”
…eighteen seconds…
Hugo backpedaled, trying to process, coming up empty. Lady Liberty’s words filled his thoughts then. You can’t save everyone. Proctor had made it clear he didn’t want salvation.
Right then, Hugo knew what must happen. “Let’s do option three.”
…thirteen seconds…
Proctor’s jowly features contorted. “Huh?”
…nine seconds…
Hugo’s smile was as ice-cold as he’d made his heart. “I won’t kill you. Nor will I save you.”
Proctor gaped. “You—”
…four seconds…
Hugo grabbed Proctor's shirt and ran. Sewer tunnels and grubby pipes smeared by as he dragged Proctor along like a ragdoll. Soon, Hugo found a hole casting pale moonlight into the tunnels. He ran faster.
…one second…
Halting just before the tunnel mouth, Hugo flung Proctor and the three bomb vests. The cluster shot higher and higher until starry night skies swallowed them.
…zero seconds…
Distant thunder shattered tonight’s quiet, the heavens illuminated by plumes of white-and-gold fire. Hugo watched the explosion wink out from below. Despite a stony exterior, his heart tremored.
I let someone die? He wanted to think there was no choice, like with kicking Sione. But Hugo knew that was a lie. “I had no choice,” he told himself, maybe so he might believe it. No time to contemplate. Hugo made his heart go dead before zooming back into the sewers.
He reached the pile of unconscious teens seconds later. Khan stirred but was still out and bound by pipes. Hugo would rather leave, but someone needed to communicate what happened. Tensing, Hugo gently shook Brent’s shoulder. “Rise and shine,” he said in his superhero voice.
The blond-haired teen’s eyes fluttered open. One look at Hugo in costume sent Brent scrambling back on hands and heels. “What the…who are you?”
He doesn’t recognize me. Hugo sighed in relief. “It’s okay,” Hugo stated in the Aegis voice, hand raised to mollify his friend. “You’re safe.”
Brent’s head swivel
ed around as he absorbed his dank surroundings. His disbelief when seeing McKenna’s and Kerry’s motionless bodies was obvious. “Where am I?”
Hugo rose to his feet, which hid his face more in shadow. “You got kidnapped by Mister Quiet, who was one of your teachers. Mr. Proctor.”
In the dark, Brent’s ruddy face paled. “Oh my God!” He clutched his head.
Hugo knelt again, laying a calming hand on Brent’s shoulder. “You and your classmates are safe. He’s won't hurt anyone again.”
Realizing how harsh he sounded, Hugo softened. “What’s your name?”
His friend trembled, taking slower breaths. “Brent. Brent Longwell.”
Hugo nodded. “Okay, Brent. Be right back.” Before Brent could reply, he snatched up McKenna and Khan, racing them up the manhole. After plopping them next to Brent’s Escalade at the Beach Bum Burger parking lot on the surface, Hugo raced back to Brent’s side.
“Holy crap,” the blond teen yelped, leaping back.
Hugo marched forward. “Hold on.” He grabbed Brent's collar and scooped up Kerry under his arm. “You may feel queasy.”
Hugo dashed up the manhole again, plopping Kerry next to McKenna.
Khan growled woozily, straining at his binds. Hugo advanced and dropped him with a right cross. Brent yelped at the sudden brutality.
From a distance, Hugo heard wailing sirens approach. Scanner chatter confirmed they were converging on this area. He turned to Brent, who was fixated on the liger. “That thing kidnapped me—”
Hugo guided Brent’s gaze back to him. “Tell the police there’s a lair underground where you and these other students were being held.” Hugo gestured at McKenna and Kerry, both still unconscious. “That is Khan, Mister Quiet’s minion. And Mister Quiet blew himself up.” With my help…
“Good GOD!”
“Remember my words,” Hugo ordered. When Brent nodded fearfully, Hugo knew his work was done. Blaring sirens grew closer, a few blocks away.
Hugo raced off before Brent could ask another question. He braked beneath a freeway overpass blocks away with zero people or traffic. He tapped his earpiece, a few preprogrammed numbers scrolling before his eyes. He chose one encrypted line. “Clint. Its Hugo,” he announced normally. “Need a favor.”
