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

by Michelinie, Jessica

  I use my powers to launch myself down to the ground, taking aiming directly at Fireball. I land at an angle and my sudden presence startles her into a piercing scream.

  “AAAAHHHH!” She cries out, dropping the helmet into the air.

  I catch it before it hits the ground. Then, I vault upwards again and grab onto a steel leg of the Manhattan Bridge with the helmet in hand.

  “Hey!” I call down at Van Houten. He looks confused for a moment, his head lolling to the left and right, looking for the source of my voice. “Yeah, shitbrains, I’m talking to you!”

  Our eyes meet and I’ve never seen so much rage in someone before. He looks like he’s about to blow a blood vessel.

  “Looking for this?!” That should be plenty of bait for now. I crawl up the leg of the bridge and sprint down the length of the massive cement plank connecting Brooklyn and Manhattan. Within moments, I hear the buzz of his jetpack as he follows me out. Like I said, villains are predictable.

  “I thought you were smarter than this, metal-head!” He screams, his voice garbled and manic from behind the helmet. “You should have known not to mess with me! Especially after I warned you!”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t take directions very well.” I mutter, suddenly stopping in my sprint and widening my stance. I keep my palm concealed behind my leg. I’m readying a huge blast to throw at him. I dangle the helmet in my free hand. “I’ve got issues with authority, y’know?”

  His pincers fly out of the shoulders of his costume and stab towards me, trying desperately to nab the helmet from my hands. Yikes, those look seriously sharp. I dodge to the right.

  “Well, I have problems with meddling little girls!” He hisses venomously.

  I throw my hands outward while he’s talking, hoping to throw him off guard. He dodges, almost too late, and stumbles a little as my blast whips by him. Shit. Since he dodged, it’s heading straight for a support beam on the bridge. Shouldn’t be strong enough to do much damage, but I gotta be careful. I cringe as it rattles the bridge’s top right structure.

  I can’t do much with one hand while I’m holding his helmet. I have half a mind to chuck it over the bridge into the ocean, but I desperately want to take this thing home with me for Shia to check out. I toss it down for now, sending it tumbling further down the bridge towards the street with a blast of magnetic energy.

  Van Houten blasts towards me, his feet leaving the ground with the thrust of his jetpack.

  I’m going to knock this asshole off his path.

  Before he reaches me, I reach as far to my left as my body will go. I send a jolt of magnesis at a chunk of cement and shove my body back around like I’m about to throw a giant discus.

  The rock spins in the air until it knocks into him so hard he goes crashing to the ground like gravity just got cranked up. He’s climbing to his feet sooner than I expected, but at least I’ve made some progress. This guy is not invincible. Good to know. He follows my gaze as I keep looking back and forth between him and the bridge supports. Shit. A sick smile starts spreading across his face.

  Suddenly he’s on his feet and blasting up in the air with his jetpack. He flies behind me to the edge of the bridge and grabs onto one of the steel poles shooting upwards. He looks over his shoulder at me and that smile still spreading across his face is nauseating. He’s showing off. With one sudden jerk, he rips the steel beam off of its support and swings it like a giant baseball bat.

  There’s about thirty or so people cowering in place along the sides of the bridge who got stuck when we brought our fight up here. Stay away from them, prick. Stay the fuck away from them. I’ve got to get an opening for them, make sure they can hightail it away without becoming our collateral damage.

  He swings the beam again, this time clanging it up against an identical one right beside where he tore this one off. It lets out a wailing metallic clang disorients me for a moment. Jesus.

  “What’s the deal, super-stuff? If you really cared about your city, you’d take me out! Why are you hesitating?! Let me guess... a noble no-kill rule?”

  I ignore him. I can’t let him distract me. I also can’t get near him with that giant metal pole in his hands.

  He zips away from me, back behind me again, and flies over to a huge support structure about fifty feet tall. If that thing falls...

  “No!” I cry out, darting after him. Wait. No, don’t chase him. Stay down on the ground in case he’s psychotic enough to actually break the supports. If he does manage to do that the tall beams flanking the bridge will fall and anyone in their way will get crushed. I run just beneath them, my eyes never leaving Van Houten as his pincers shoot from out of his shoulders. They slide along the steel and, just as I suspected, cut through them like nothing. They topple to the ground so hard that the asphalt is chipped away into chunks of rock. The remaining beams lining the bridge are wobbling, swaying without their supports–fuck! They’re falling. I’ve gotta to get those people out of the way. Uh, uh, what to do? Shit.

  Forcefield. I don’t do this often. In fact, I’ve only done it a couple of times before. The biggest one I’ve done I didn’t even mean to do. I really really really really hope this is going to work.

  I’ve got to move fast. There’s at least six people in the path of the falling beams, but they don’t seem to know it. Powers, please don’t let me down. I skid to a stop in the center of the danger zone. I really don’t remember how I did this before, but I’m hoping it just sort of happens.

  I squeeze my fists together, focus in on my power, breathe, breathe, and–

  A blast of energy shoots out of me, growing, growing, bursting into a humongous sphere with me at it’s center. It just manages to cover the people behind me. The force of it sends some discarded rock flying off the bridge and into the ocean.

  I look around the carnage that surrounds me. Piles of smashed brick and broken metal beams. Smithereens on top of smithereens. I really hope the city isn’t going to bill me for this later. I’ve never broken any ribs before, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ve got at least two now. I struggle to my feet and take a huge breath, inhaling dust, exhaling relief. I saved them. But where is Van Houten? He’s fled, I think. Good. Showed that asshole. See? I knew I could handle him.

  I run my hands over my face and drag my fingers through my hair.

  My stomach feels like lead. I turn around a few times, spinning in a small, dumb circle as the rest of the bridge-goers are getting their bearings. There’s a woman crying, being consoled by someone else as she bends over a still form. I think they need medical help. They’re unconscious, though. That’s it. They’ll wake up as soon as they get help, I’m sure of it.

  I’m a little wobbly on my feet, but I stumble over to the group behind me. “Everyone okay? You guys called an ambulance, right?”

  That reminds me, I should probably call Shia and Alex, let them know wh––

  GGGGRRRASSSSSKKKK!

  What the hell was that? I whirl around but before I can even fully turn my body is lifted from the ground and jolted through the air. Van Houten. His pincers are clamped around my body, whisking me from the ground and high into the sky. We fly through the air and out of the building, up, up, up, and all I can hear is his hideous cackle.

  I hear screaming and it takes me a moment to realize its coming from my own mouth. My ribs are burning with a searing red pain from where he’s clamped around me. Van Houten takes us back down towards the ground. From this high up I can see we’re heading towards the edge of Central Park. What is he doing? Where is he taking me?

  He lands hard on the cement, his suited legs crushing the sidewalk beneath his feet. I’m struggling to get out of grip, trying to use my powers, but I’m too weak. The buzz is weak and flickering inside of me, just like last time. What is this, performance anxiety?

  Van Houten’s hand claps down across my face. NO! No, no, no, no, I try to cover my face with my hands and block his pincers. He’s trying to drag my mask off of me. I can see out of
the corner of my eye that people are starting to gather around us. They’re talking, whispering beneath their breath, wondering what’s happening. No, this isn’t a street performance. His hand clamps around my mask, he’s got it, no, no, he’s pulling it–I try to swipe it from my hands but it’s off. He’s got it and tosses it aside to the ground. Panic wells in my throat. No, no, no, do not. Do not do this.

  “Here you go, New York City! Here’s your beloved hero!” He holds me up in the air with one hand. My face is visible for all to see. People look uncertain, unsure of what’s going on.

  “That man has Metalia!” I hear an array of voices all around me, on all sides. I struggle hard in his grip, trying desperately to wrangle myself to the ground. I’ve got to get away. Phones are out and cameras are flashing. Fuck, fuck!

  “What’s going on?”

  “What are they doing? Is that... that’s her? That’s Metalia?” I can’t believe this. They can see me. Everyone can see my face. Cell-phones are coming out. No, no, no, no, please, no!

  I can taste blood dripping down my nose and into my mouth as I claw at the clamps keeping me in his grasp. He’s beaten me. I’m done. I hear a mixture of sirens, yelling voices, and demanding questions. I’m sorry, Alex. Casey. Shia. I’m sorry.

  Chapter Six

  “...awake soon... she’s...”

  “...three people... collapsed... don’t think she...”

  I hate that feeling when you wake up in the middle of a deep sleep and you try to get yourself up, but your eyes just keep falling shut. That used to happen to me a lot when I was a kid. I haven’t felt that in awhile. Til now, I guess.

  I keep my eyes open for a few seconds, but that’s about all I can manage. I don’t fall back asleep this time, though.

  “Hey, I think she’s waking up... Rob, get over here!”

  There’s something warm around my hand. Actually, I feel warm all over. Who’s Rob? I let my eyes fall open once again. Something much stronger than sleep is sticking to them. I feel so heavy and weightless at the same time.

  “Baby, can you hear me? Marie, it’s me. It’s Alex.”

  “Alex?” My voice sounds funny. Slow and slurred, unlike my thoughts which are at least a little clearer. Alex is hovering over me. She looks like she’s been crying. Why has she been crying?

  Where even am I? Somewhere dark, but Alex is here, so I don’t really care. I don’t really care about anything right now. Have I been asleep for a very long time? Suddenly there’s someone other than Alex hovering over me. Someone I don’t know. Some guy. He presses something cold to my chest, pokes and prods me, squeezes my wrist. I want to go back to sleep.

  “Vitals are good... I can’t check for internal bleeding without any of my equipment, though. If you’re seriously not going to take her to a hospital, then this is the best I can do...”

  Hospital? No, no, no. Not that again. Last time I went there... I’m too tired to finish my own thought. Bad things happen at hospitals. Well, sometimes good things I guess. I got my powers at the hospital.

  “We can’t. Not with half of NYPD out there looking for her. Just tell me what to do. We’ll have someone with her at all times.”

  “I’m... fine.” I test out my voice again. Still slurred and slow, like jell-o. I want to sit up. I try to lift my upper body but a cascade of hands are suddenly there to push me back down. Okay, no sitting up.

  “Marie, you’ve got to relax, okay? You were hurt badly. Just hang on a second.” Alex murmurs to me. I feel her lips on mine for a single moment before my eyes slide shut again. I was hurt, huh? I don’t feel hurt. I mean I feel something, but... not hurt. Just sleepy. I open my eyes again a few moments later and turn my head to the side. There’s Alex and Rob talking, saying words I don’t really understand. Bridge... structure... hemorrhage...

  I can’t tell how much time passes, but Alex finally returns to me and sits down beside whatever I’m lying on. Doesn’t feel like a bed. There’s wet stains on her cheeks. I want to reach out and touch them, but my hand feels too heavy.

  “Marie, I’m so glad you’re okay. I... God, I thought I lost you there for awhile.”

  “You didn’t lose me...I’m not lost... where’s... here? Where are we?”

  “Um. Well, we’re at a friend’s place. In Queens. He’s a doctor, and he’s been helping you get better.”

  A flash of memory suddenly jolts through me. A massive cloud of dust. A sound like a train derailing. Feeling like I was being stabbed.

  “What... what happened?” I’m too tired to feel panic, but I’m suddenly very alert.

  “We can talk about it later, Marie. Just rest for now.”

  “No, Alex... Alex, please. What–why...?”

  I think Alex can see and hear my desperation because her resolve seems to melt away. “Marie, listen to me. None of this was your fault, okay? None of what happened is on you...” Oh, god. A wave of nausea rolls through me. “Van Houten attacked you. You were fighting on the Manhattan Bridge. He... He toppled the upper structure over and... you tried to save them. You did. But... three people didn’t make it. Some shrapnel flew and... And then, he... Van Houten, he grabbed you and brought you to Central Park. He unmasked you, Marie. In front of a lot of people.”

  As Alex is speaking, my memories are slowly filling in. Each word she says brings a new image into my mind. I remember. I remember everything.

  “I showed up right after it happened. They were trying to take you to the hospital, but Cameron and I brought you here instead. They... want to arrest you for vigilantism. I couldn’t let them, so...”

  I don’t say anything. I don’t think I could if I wanted to. I turn my head to the side and catch sight of a window. It’s grey outside. I think it might even be snowing.

  The last thing I remember is the look of the crowd, staring up at me, maskless, as Van Houten taunted me. So, I guess everyone knows now. Knows my name. My face. Knows it was just me, just some girl, under the mask. And those three people... I thought I saved everyone. I mean, I saw some were unconscious, but I never... I never thought that they wouldn’t...

  It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone sneaking into his office, hadn’t provoked him, this wouldn’t have happened. I didn’t just fail to save those people. I caused this to happen to them.

  Alex doesn’t say anything more and eventually I drift back to sleep.

  When I wake up again, the room is dark. I’m feeling antsy and restless, so I make a feeble attempt to sit up. It sorta kind of works. I grit my teeth through some rowdy pain in my ribcage and hold on desperately to the side of the couch I’m lying on. God, I feel like I’m a thousand years old the way my body creaks and grumbles with even the smallest movement.

  Alex is asleep on a cot beside the couch. The room is dark and the city outside is quiet. I’m still in my Metalia outfit, but my mask is nowhere to be found. It must have got left behind somewhere in the park. I can feel my phone in the front pocket Shia inserted into the suit. I fish the thing out and yep, just as I expected, it’s absolutely massacred. I doubt it’d even work if I attempted to turn it on.

  I have a sudden desperate need to be wearing anything but this suit. I want to take it off and fucking incinerate it. I never want to see it again. It represents everything wrong with me. Every fuck up I’ve made in the last six months. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be Metalia.

  “Hey.”

  The sound of someone’s else voice rips me out of my reverie. I whirl my head around to see a tall guy with black hair standing in the doorway to the kitchen. I’m guessing this is Rob. He moves towards me with a smile that’s a little too casual for how terrible I’m feeling right now. I imagine he’s also not super thrilled to have a couple of wanted fugitives sleeping on his couch.

  “Hi.” I murmur. “Um, thanks for... the patch-up.”

  “Not a problem. Alex is an old friend of mine. Went to college together. She gave me a heads up that she and a wanted vigilante needed a place to stay for a bit, and well, I
owe her one, so...”

  I can’t really find anything to say in response. I think I’d rather just sit in silence than make small talk.

  “Too soon? Sorry. Um, I’m Rob, by the way.”

  “I’m...” I almost say Metalia since I’m in costume, but then reality sinks in a little harder. “...Marie.” I can’t help but laugh a little. A disdainful, self-loathing, stupid laugh.

  “Marie. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve been an admirer of your work. And I don’t mean that as a joke.” He takes a few steps forward and stands near the living room window, gazing out of it with his back turned to me.

  “Thanks.” I mutter. Blinking down at my feet. I desperately want to get up, walk around, stretch my legs, but I don’t think I can even lift my legs much less stand on them.

  “You know...” He starts, looking over his shoulder at me, but the look I give him clearly indicates that he should not give me whatever heartfelt sappy little anecdote or piece of advice he was planning on offering. “...it’s not your fault, what happened to those people.”

  I can’t roll my eyes hard enough. “Actually, it is.” I insist. “I was careless. I could have saved them if I knew what I was doing. I’m just... a girl playing dress-up.” Just like Van Houten said. I hate that he was right.

  “Don’t you think he would have hurt more people if you hadn’t been there?”

  “No, he was there because of me. I provoked him, I–” I stop myself. I’m getting upset and Alex is stirring on the cot a few feet away. “Look, you weren’t there, alright?”

  Rob looks like a guilty little puppy dog as I snap at him. Whatever. I don’t feel bad.

  I feel a hand on my arm and without thinking jerk away from it.

  “Hey,” Alex murmurs, sleepily. She’s reaching over from the cot, squeezing my forearm gentle.

  “Hi,” I whisper, “Sorry. Just... jumpy.”

  “How are you feeling?” She hums.

  I’m a little weary of how sweet and nurturing Alex is coming off right now. Shouldn’t she be berating me? Reminding me how big of an abject failure I am? I went off on my own and three people died. Why doesn’t she want to talk about that? “Um... fine. Or... you know, very not fine. But... alive.” I exhale a breath of embarrassment. “Alex, I–”