Hero Least Likely Series (Book 2): Van Houten Rising

by Michelinie, Jessica

“No.” I mutter, gazing down at my boots. I can’t stand to look either of them in the eye right now. “No, we’re not a team.”

  Shia pulls away a little and dips her head downward trying to catch my gaze. I’m not offering it to her. “Is this why you haven’t been calling in for backup? You don’t want us helping you anymore?”

  “I... I can’t do my job while I’m worrying about you two! It’s distracting. And you both mean too much to me to risk your lives for... for this.”

  “I don’t think that’s your choice to make, Marie.” Alex says with a lot of certainty.

  “This isn’t just about you, Marie. We care about our community, too. And since we don’t have superpowers, like you, helping you out is the best we can offer. You can’t just shrug us off like we’re your sidekicks.” Shia says.

  “He beat the shit out of me.” I protest, my voice rising against my will. I don’t mean to get frustrated with them, but they don’t know what happened. They weren’t there. “Alex, his armor is not just some little side project of his. It makes whoever is wearing it a goddamn superhuman! He-he... he wants chaos, he’s handing these out to police precincts all over the city! And he knows about you! If I ever go outside as Metalia again, he will come after you!”

  “I know, Marie.”

  “It gave him super strength, and-and it has a jetpack, and there’s these sharp fucking pincer things that come out of the shoulders. And the helmet is like practically impenetrable!”

  “Okay.”

  “Why are you so calm?! Did you hear me?If I so much as put my suit on again he will unmask me to the world and take you both away from me. Okay, do you understand how much that scares me? He’ll hurt you, both of you, and Casey.”

  “Marie, I’m so calm because this is what I deal with on the job everyday. I know how people like this think. We are going to be okay.” Alex assures me. The quiet intensity on her face is simultaneously comforting and enraging.

  “But you don’t know that! If... if something happened to either of you...” I can feel emotion welling up in my throat again. I’m frustrated. I feel helpless. I get to my feet again and stomp over to the liquor on top of the fridge. I grab my bottle of whiskey and return to my seat on the couch, holding it between my knees.

  “We’re going to figure this out, okay?” Despite how many times Alex says it, I can’t get myself to believe her.

  After a tense half hour of repeatedly calling Casey’s phone, Alex attempts to get me to go to sleep. There’s no point, though. I know I won’t be able to catch a wink until I know Casey is home and safe. In a tentative compromise, we both retreat to my bedroom, whiskey in tow, and curl up on my bed. I call Casey a few more times, but still no answer. I take two long swallows straight from the bottle, one after another.

  Alex is wiping at the blood still staining my head with a wet washcloth. We aren’t saying much. I know I shouldn’t have snapped at her and Shia, but after tonight’s events, I feel completely powerless. I feel like a shell of who I was just twelve hours ago. Facing off against Van Houten tonight showed me that I’m not as strong as I thought I was. What can I do against someone stronger than me?

  As Alex finishes wiping away the blood, I reach down and tug my shirt off. I can practically hear her wincing. I must be pretty banged up everywhere. I look over my shoulder but can’t see what she’s grimacing at.

  “You’re going to have a gnarly bruise back here, it looks like.”

  “Yeah.” I agreed vaguely, shuffling out of my pants and finally going horizontal on my bed. I don’t want to sleep, not until I know where Casey is, but my body seems to have other plans. My eyes are feeling heavy and the whiskey settling in my stomach and making me all warm and fuzzy. “Can we just...?” Just what? Hold each other and pretend like tonight never happened?

  As usual, Alex seems to know what I want better than I do. She nods to herself and begins pulling off her own layers. She wordlessly draws me into her arms and pulls my comforter up to our chins.

  A siren goes by outside, and my mind slowly slips away.

  Chapter Five

  I wake to the smell of bacon. Strong coffee. Smells like Saturday. I’m starving. Feels like I haven’t eaten in forever. I keep my eyes closed despite my mind’s insistence that it’s time to get up. My body slowly catches up with my mind and ow ow ow what the hell ow. It suddenly occurs to me that today isn’t Saturday.

  I feel like one giant raw nerve. Every part of me is aching like I had a Tae-Bo party with Billy Blanks all night long. I roll over onto my back and my eyes open up a crack. I take a breath, and the whole night comes flooding back to me.

  Casey. Van Houten. Shit. I sit up a little too quickly and am met with a faceful of sunlight streaming in from my window. Squeezing my eyes shut tight, I scramble out of my bed, tangling myself up in my sheets. Wasn’t Alex in bed with me last night? Where is she?

  Throwing my bedroom door open, I stumble into the kitchen, still sleep-blind, “Casey...?”

  When my vision fully returns to me, I’m met with a few different stares from the length of the kitchen. Shia is at the stove overseeing the production of that lovely smelling breakfast and gives me a knowing wink. Alex, sitting lazily on the left side of the card-table with her knees tucked beneath her, offers me a warm ‘everything-is-alright’ gaze. And across from her... oh, thank the fucking lord. “Casey! You’re alright, you’re–”

  “...alive and well?” My sister looks concerned for my mental and physical health. I probably look like a total fucking mess. I dive forward and wrap my arms around her shoulders in a rare show of familial affection.

  “You... I just... you’re phone... last night... I didn’t know, I thought...”

  “Casey’s phone died while she was at the downtown library. Took her a little while to get home without Google Maps.” Alex explains.

  “And you got mugged. Makes you a true New Yorker now, doesn’t it?” Casey asks, pulling away a little to examine cut along my forehead.

  “What?” I murmur. From behind Casey, Alex gives me a pressing stare, nodding very seriously. “Oh... right. Yeah. Mugged. That’s why I’m...” I let my voice trail away as relief shoots through me like a drug. Casey, Alex, and Shia are all safe from that Van Houten maniac. At least for now. I lower myself into the last chair at the card-table and try to relax. “Hey, wait, why aren’t you two at work? It’s... Thursday, isn’t it?”

  “We,” Shia points to herself, Alex, then Casey, “decided it’d be best if we all played a little hooky today. It may not actually be Saturday, but we’re sure as hell are going to act like it is. Alex, go fire up that TV.”

  If I wasn’t already aware that I have the most supportive best friend and girlfriend in the world, I definitely am now. For the next several hours we feast on a seemingly endless supply of breakfast and melt our brains with a stream of cartoons. I have to admit this method succeeded in making me briefly forget about my massive problems with psycho-tech-bro.

  Sometime during our pseudo-Saturday, Casey deserts us to go take a shower. As soon as they can hear the water running, Alex and shia take seats on either side of me.

  “So, wanna talk about what happened last night?” Shia asks.

  Not really, but I know we need to . I nod once. “He... came out of nowhere. Attacked me. He wasn’t trying to steal anything or break-in anywhere. He came there to... to hurt me.”

  Alex’s hand grips the top of my thigh.

  “He wanted me to know that he knew who I was, and if I didn’t stop being Metalia then he was going to hurt everyone that I loved.”

  “Well, that’s a good sign, then.” Alex says, thoughtfully. Shia and I give her similar looks of incredulity. “He’s threatened by you.” She explains. “That’s what this whole altercation was about. He sees you as a threat and this is his way of eliminating you. Not by actual force, but threat of force.”

  “I don’t see why. He clearly has the upperhand on me. That suit of his was insane. It gives whoever is wearing it
like a hundred times their own strength.”

  “So, what do you want to do, then?” Shia asks.

  “I... I’m the only one who can handle him.” The words leave me before I can even consider them. “But you’re worth too much to me. Both of you. I can’t risk your safety by putting that costume on again.”

  I can tell by the way her brow wrinkles that she wants to protest, but she doesn’t.

  “But, what about Van Houten?” Alex asks. She’s trying to be cautious in asking the question. “What are we going to do? Knowing he’s out there with that armor?” What she really means is: how can you sit here and do nothing knowing what he’s capable of?

  I know that the cops can’t handle him. I know that there’s no one else even remotely qualified or able to beat him in a physical fight. But... I just can’t take the risk. Not right now.

  “If he says I have to stop, then... to protect you, Metalia has to stop.” I sigh.

  “But, Marie,” Alex pries, “you don’t have to do it alone. You’re NOT the only one who can handle him. You’ve got us, NYPD, hell, even those super-fans you’ve got–” Alex stops herself as the shower suddenly cuts off. She exhales a breath of disappointment, uncertainty maybe, and her hand drifts away from my thigh.

  @broodmother6: soooo is @officialMetalia on vacation or something? cuz there’s been

  like at least 5 break-ins on my block this week

  @bleedngluv444: helloooo @officialMetalia has anyone been able to get ahold of

  her??? Ive sent her 6 DMs and she been silent

  @revengeofspam: my local bodega is closed after an arson attack :( @officialMetalia

  can you help?

  I scroll through an unending list of tweets and DM’s. Seems like people have really noticed my absence. Guess that makes me feel kind of nice, knowing that what I was doing did sort of make a small difference for people. Makes me feel all the worse for taking a break from Metalia activities.

  I’ve been just plain old Marie Carter for the last three days, and I’m feeling... empty. No daytime job, no nighttime job. Nothing. I’m pathetic. I’ve been spending my days at home with Casey, mostly. At least we’ve got more time to hang now. Still not sure what I’m going to do about this whole lack of paycheck thing, but I’ve got a little more time to figure that out.

  “Mustard?”

  What? I look up from my phone and Casey is waving a hotdog in my face. It’s a nice day and she insisted on us not wasting it inside. We’ve been walking around Washington Square Park, wandering into bookstores, watching park musicians and such. “Uh, yeah.” I confirm. After a moment’s consideration I add, “Extra relish!”

  As much as I try to enjoy being just another face in the crowd, another nobody just making their way in the city, I can’t help but think about Van Houten. It doesn’t help that his goddamn ads are still all over the place. I’ve got no moves against him. I’m literally stuck. But the weird thing is, he’s not attacking anyone. Like he’s not using the suit to go out and hurt people like he did to me. I don’t know what he’s up to and it makes me extremely nervous. Anything I do might result in him going after my family. Is there some way I can make public who he really is? What he’s really doing with that armor? Would anyone believe me? The public could probably just think I’m jealous or something.

  “...and then I told him that there was no way I was going to be seen with someone wearing argyle and tartan plaid together, which doesn’t even make sense why anyone would ever combine those two to begin with. And then–hey. Space cadet, you didn’t hear any of that, did you?” Casey elbows me.

  “Yeah, yeah. I heard... plaid. Or something.”

  “Where’s your mind, sis?” Casey takes an abnormally large bite of hotdog. Yeah, we’re definitely related.

  “Uh... a thousand places.” I sigh.

  If only there was a way I could find out what Van Houten’s plan is. Fireball and the Bull both implied there was something big coming. Some big army of Van Houten-ites. But for what? Just a power-grab? I mean, why do rich and powerful people do anything? To get more rich and powerful, I guess.

  “Hey, listen, I... um, there’s something I need to do. Are you good to get home on your own?” I hate leaving her like this, but I can’t sit still any longer. I can’t sit around and wait for Van Houten to make his next move. I’ve got to do something.

  “Yeah,” Marie shrugs, “Sure. You okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just... um, I think I left some of my stuff at Griffin’s. I’ll meet you at home.” I abandon my sister and my hotdog, pull my backpack up on my shoulder, and power walk out of the park.

  I’ve had very little alone time since by last meeting with Van Houten which, I admit, has been nice. Now that I’ve finally got some time and space, I’m going to figure out exactly what my least-favorite redhead is up to. I know what I’m about to do is dishonest. I know it’s a disservice to Alex and Shia to go off on my own, but I can’t sit on my hands anymore, and I cannot get them involved. I refuse to put them at risk. I know that we had a team, but... I can do it on my own. Keeping them out of all of this will keep them safe, I keep telling myself over and over as I walk south towards the Financial District.

  I want to find out what exactly he’s planning, if anything. From everything I’ve seen, he’s really interested in just power-grabbing and building up his own private army of goons in super-powered gear. I also want to know how much he knows about me. How the hell he figured out who I am, and why hasn’t he exposed me yet...

  I make a couple of stops on the way to Van Houten Industries for some necessary supplies, namely, a disguise.

  Thirty minutes later I’m outside of this massive, shiny toilet-bowl of a building. 180 Broadway St. Van Houten Industries is printed all slant-y across the building’s reflective facade. Just another giant skyscraper among huge rows of other giant skyscrapers. I smooth down some wild flyaway hairs, throw my shoulders back, and march inside. I haven’t acted since I played Tree #3 in a 7th grade rendition of The Jungle Book, but hopefully I’ve still got it in me because what I’m about to do will require utmost professionalism and skill. Sorority girl impression is a go.

  The lobby is massive, high-ceilinged, and flanked by a security desk and two escalators. To the left is a visitor station manned by a young woman about my age. I’m feeling very James Bond right now.

  “Hiiiii,” I give the blonde receptionist the biggest smile my mouth can handle. Do I look like I’m being possessed? I probably look like I’m being possessed because the smile she returns to me is frigid and her eyes are wide with concern.

  “I have a meeting with Ms. Lyanne Huxtable in the, ahem, public relations department.” I squint downwards at the name placard on her desk, and send Julie, the overworked receptionist, another smile.

  “O...kay. Let me just get you a visitor badge. One moment, please.” I spot at least six security cameras just in the visitor’s lobby which means this place is under pretty intense lockdown.

  “Here you are.” Julie hands me a badge with VISITOR blaring across it, and rises out of her seat. She’s holding the badge out to me, but suddenly she tilts her head to the side and retracts her hand. Fuck. What’d I do wrong? I thought I was totally convincing! “Hey, I know you...”

  Damn damn damn. Did Van Houten share my face and name with the whole company, or something?

  “Were you an Alpha Delta Theta class of ‘13?”

  Oh, boy. Wow. Not what I was expecting. Okay, improv time. Go! “I–”

  “Oh my god, it IS you! January Perkins, I haven’t seen you since the Great Fratsby Mixer! Summer of 2012!”

  I’m suddenly being embraced by Julie from across the desk. This is weird, but I play along. “Oh my god, right? Wow. Crazy!”

  “So, look at you, hotshot PR director, or what? That’s great! Well, things haven’t changed a bit for me. Oh, except,” she points to her hair. “blonde now! Oh–hang on a second,” The phone is ringing. She looks down at her desk and a frown settle
s on her very smooth-looking face. “Ugh, I have to take this. You know how it is. Great seeing you, stop by again sometime, let’s get lunch!”

  I’m laughing at nothing as she hands me the badge and quickly returns to her seat. “Okay, great, great, yeah, will do, definitely!” I try to make my voice as saccharine as possible as I twirl away. Phew. Saved by the bell on that one. January Perkins, you’ve done it again.

  I catch a glimpse of myself as I pass the reflective panels of the hallway on my way to the elevator. My hair is in the tightest bun possible. I smooth down my skirt and the floral blouse I picked up on the way here. I pretty much look like a bible-seller.

  I get onto the elevator, but instead of pressing the button for the third floor I hit the button for the highest level. That should give me enough time. Floor 3...4... I hope no one else joins me on this ride. I send a power burst to the ceiling of the elevator and the top vent blows off. Perfect.

  I jump upwards and use my power for an extra boost to climb up. Phew. Kinda spooky up here in this elevator shaft. Remember, be like James Bond. Better get into the air vent before the elevator gets called down. There’s a vent on my right just about mid-height. I crouch down and direct my palm at it. The buzz tickles. My hand trembles a little, and the vent lifts off its screws. I set it aside, take a deep breath, and push myself through the opening. It’s narrow, but I’ve got a bit of elbow room on each side to army crawl through this thing.

  Well, never imagined myself sneaking around in the air vents of a major tech company wearing a matching floral shirt and skirt set, but hey, life’s unpredictable.

  Okay, here we go. I can see an opening down onto the seventh floor from the air shaft. Laboratory. Bunch of scientists doing... I don’t know, science things. I keep crawling further into the shaft. More labs, bathrooms, and finally offices. Bingo. Boss-man Van Houten’s office has gotta be the biggest baddest one. I pause in my crawl and try to push my arm back far enough to reach my pocket.

  “Ack... just... little further...” Got it. I grab my phone, struggling in the confined space until it’s finally in front of my face. I bring up my photos and scroll past a few selfies Casey snuck on here to the screencap I took of a Van Houten promotional video. The still shows Tate inside his office and if I scale the photo up I can see the layout of it a little bit better. Round shape. Window in the back.