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

by Michelinie, Jessica

  “Don’t.” Like the goddamn mind reader she is, I feel like she’s just heard my entire inner monologue. “Right now what’s important is that you’re alive. Okay?”

  I can do nothing but nod numbly.

  “You met Rob, I guess?” She asks, nodding up at the tall brunette guy wandering around his kitchen awkwardly trying to avoid the wanted vigilante superhero on his couch.

  “Yeah,” I murmur. “Friend of yours.”

  “He’s letting us lay low for a bit. I figured you and I would benefit greatly from not being at our home addresses for a few days. People might be trying to figure out your address, or...” She trails away. “Fans, I mean. Just didn’t want you to be bombarded while you’re recovering.”

  “And the police?”

  “Well, they’ll probably be looking for you as well, but–”

  “What about you, Alex? You can’t.... You can’t aid and abet me, or-or whatever, that’s putting your job at risk. Alex, please, tell me you’re not doing that for me...”

  “Marie, it’s okay. I’ve thought about this, alright? This is the choice I’ve made.”

  I don’t say anything else. What is there even left to say? There’s no point in arguing anymore. I’m stuck here. Alex has made herself stuck here, and we’re going to remain stuck here until the public forgets about my little superhero escapades. I can’t help but think about Van Houten. Where is he? What’s he doing? Is he any closer to completing his little evil science project?

  “What do you want, Marie? You want me to angry with you? You want me to shame you for what you did? Okay, fine. You shouldn’t have gone after him alone behind our backs. You shouldn’t have lied to us when you said you were done being Metalia.”

  “I was trying to protect you–”

  “We don’t always need your protection, Marie! You are not the only beacon of safety in our lives! You want to shelter us away, keep us from even being able to assist you–”

  “Well, wouldn’t you, too?! My parents are dead, Alex. Gone. When someone special comes into my life, you can bet your ass I’m going to do everything I can to prevent them from being taken away from me!”

  “But, do you see what that does to us? Boxes us in, limits us. Bad things happen, Marie. You, of all people, know this. You can prevent some, but not everything. You can do your absolute best and still some of us may fall... It’s not a reflection on you.”

  With her words sinking into me, unable to escape from this conversation, I nod silently. I don’t have the energy to fight back anymore. “What happening right now?” I ask, quietly. “What are they saying about me?”

  Alex gives me a look like she wants to protest but she knows I’m far too stubborn to give in. “Fine.” She grumbles, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot and clamoring for the television remote on the coffee table. She turns on the modest little screen sitting on a milk crate and cycles through a few channels before landing on a local news channel.

  “...reporting that the altercation took place last night near the Manhattan bridge. For many months now, the masked woman has been acting as a vigilante on the streets of New York, skirting around NYPD and taking justice into her own hands. She has inspired a movement of fans and followers, but is not without detractors. After video footage of an altercation between her and a masked assailant wearing the brand new line of Van Houten Industries armor currently being produced for local police precincts, sources were able to identify Metalia as twenty-eight year old Brooklyn resident, Marie Carter.”

  I watch the reporter with a sense of numbness spreading through me. They cut to some shaky cell-phone footage of Van Houten and I landing in Central Park, his hand around my neck, my face available for all to see. I can tell it’s hard for Alex to watch because she keeps looking away each time it repeats.

  The camera cuts to a crowd of people last night at Central Park. “I-I just can’t believe she’s one of us, y’know? I mean, I knew she was, but she’s so young. Just a kid. If my daughter was running around the city doing all that? Pfft. Forget it. I’d have had a heart attack every night. Insane. Wherever she is, I hope she comes back. Y’know, whoever this guy was messing with her? She’ll get him. Yeah, she’ll get him.”

  The camera cuts again to an interview with another witness. “Justice? She was just running around in tights causing trouble. Now three people are dead. I hope she gets put away. Reckless. Just reckless is what it is.”

  The camera cuts back to the reporter. “CEO of Van Houten Industries, Tate Van Houten, has issued a statement this morning at a press conference in his offices denying any knowledge as to how or why his armored suit came to be in possession of the unknown assailant who revealed Metalia’s identity.”

  And there he is. The motherfucker has the gall to go on camera and deny that he had anything to do with this when its his hands that bruised my neck. God, I hate him. I have to admit, though, he does look sincere. “I am sickened and utterly heartbroken by the news that three New Yorkers lost their lives last night due to the carelessness of a so-called vigilante hero. I am equally disturbed by the fact that this person was involved in an altercation with someone misusing Van Houten Industries safe-city tech. The public can be confident that we at Van Houten Industries will do everything in our power to ensure that this tech goes into the right hands and stays out of the wrong ones. As for Miss Carter, I hope that NYPD is able to bring her to justice. Our city deserves so much more than the phony justice she has wrought.”

  “Asshole.” I mutter venomously at the television. Alex is quick to lean over and turn it off.

  “You see why we need to lay low for a bit?”

  “This is exactly what he wanted. The public has no clue that he’s a fucking menace. They’re obsessed with me now. And once I’m out of the way he’ll be free to do whatever the hell he wants. Mind-control all of NYPD, raise up his army of idiots–”

  “Sorry, what?” Alex’s look of incredulity is almost funny. She looks certain that I’ve lost my mind.

  “Oh, uh... when I went off to Van Houten’s I found out some information. It wasn’t a totally disastrous outing, turns out. The armor... it has cereal...cerebreum...ul....cerebral implants! I don’t know how it works, but it seems like it somehow infects the mind of whoever is wearing it and lets Van Houten control them. He’s giving this armor out like candy because once you put it on, you’re an unwitting part of his personal army.”

  “If half of NYPD precincts are getting them for free, then...”

  “You’ve got hundred of officers with not only augmented strength and abilities, but a total lack of control. Now, what he wants with a personal army, I don’t really know. I saw something on his computer about getting bullied when he was younger. There was a really bad incident in high school and I think it really fucked with him. I think he’s got some major control issues now. Wonder if his twin is as a big of a dick as him.”

  “Wait, he has a twin brother? How come I’ve never of him? Every detail of his life has been broadcast to the world since everyone’s become so obsessed with him. How come no one talks about his brother?”

  Alex does have a point. He’s like the most talked-about man in the world right now, and I’ve never once heard about this brother. “Yeah, weird.”

  “Well, he’s smart, I’ll give him that. Now you’ve got to fight against the campaign against you before you can even get close to him.”

  “Yeah.” I agree, faintly. I don’t really want to think about what the next few days and weeks may hold for me.

  The next three days are a mess of restlessness and uncertainty. And my butt continuously falling asleep. I’m healing, but not nearly fast enough. Most of the time I have to stay glued to this couch, but I was able to walk yesterday for the first time since the fight. I’m not so close to running or jumping, but I can only hope it won’t take my body long to recover. The question of ‘what are you going to do’ seems to be hanging ominously over us all with each slowly passing gray day, but my wheels
are turning.

  Alex has stayed in contact with Shia and Casey, but I haven’t had a chance to talk to either of them. I’m a little embarrassed about what I said to Shia last time I saw her. I hope Casey is doing okay. Wait. Shit. Where does Casey think I am? Does she know now... about me? About Metalia? She must. And if she doesn’t, she’s not the smart one in the family anymore.

  I plug in my phone for the first time since the fight. It’s completely shattered but somehow still operational. When it finally turns on, it suddenly lets out an orchestra of notification sounds. Jesus. There’s like... at least a thousand Twitter banners lining themselves up in my notification center. I guess I expected that, but Jesus. Is there any point in reading them? I’m sure some will make me feel good, some will probably make me feel bad. It’s like I’ve got my own army of...

  Wait a second. Army. Van Houten’s trying to create his own army. Why can’t I do the same? I’m pretty much out of commission here, but it’s like Alex and Shia have been trying to tell me, it’s not entirely about me. People aren’t helpless. They may not have superpowers, but they’re powerful. Especially in large groups. My wheels are turning very quickly all of the sudden.

  If anything, this recent failure has taught me that I can’t be the city’s sole protector. I can’t do it all on my own. I realize that now. So if I’m going to take down Van Houten, I’m going to need some help. We’re going to need to all do it together.

  “Alex, who controls the NYPD twitter account?” I ask her as I pace very slowly back and forth across the living room. I wince through a wave of pain in my hip where Van Houten’s pincers tore into me.

  “Um, I think it’s just an intern from marketing. Why?” She murmurs, looking from taking a huge bite of a turkey sandwich. If she’s got cabin fever as bad as I do after three days without leaving this apartment, she’s hiding it well.

  “We need to reach as many people as possible. Van Houten wants an army? We’ll show him a goddamn army.” This isn’t playtime anymore. This is war.

  Chapter Seven

  After five days of rehabilitation in Rob’s apartment, I’m feeling starting to feel relatively normal, all thanks to Alex and him devoting every waking second to healing me. Rob was afraid I’d had some internal bleeding, but had no way to tell without some fancy-schmancy hospital equipment. Luckily, I think I managed to scrape by without any real lasting injuries. Outside of my pride, that is.

  We’ve spent the last eight hours running through the plan over and over again. Each painstaking detail. Every minute possibility of what could go wrong. It’s all been planned for. I think. Now, we’ve got to get everyone in the know.

  Alex is calling Shia on speaker phone and my heart is hammering in my chest as I sit on the couch, tapping my feet nervously, drumming my fingers across my knee. I feel really, really bad for the words Shia and I shared. I hope she’ll accept my apology and help us with out plan to get rid of Van Houten.

  The phone rings and rings and rings. Way to keep the suspense going, Shia. It rings again, one more time, until finally–

  “Hey, sorry, just hopped out of the shower.” Shia’s bright and chipper voices shines through the speaker. It feels so good to know that she’s safe, that Van Houten hasn’t gotten to hurt.

  Alex is sitting next to me, holding the phone. “No worries, Shia. It’s me and Marie, here. How are you? Everything okay at the apartment?”

  I remain quiet, unsure what to say. I need to just break the ice. Do I act like nothing happened? Apologize?

  “It’s all good here. Casey and I are hunkered down with a pretty much endless supply of Hot Cheetos and Jarritos.”

  “Any unexpected visitors?” Alex asks.

  “Nothing too exciting. I mean, there’s been a ton of food and flower deliveries addressed to Marie. Get well soon cards, and all that. But the lookout you got posted out front has been really helpful. He’s kept the crowd at bay.”

  “Crowd?” I murmur before I can stop myself. “Hey Shy, it’s-it’s me, Marie.”

  “Hi, Marie.” Shia says, her voice a little softer and lower than it was a moment ago. “Yeah, bud, you’ve had a pretty sizable crowd out front of the apartment for a few days now. They’ve got signs and everything.”

  “Um... good signs, I hope?” I ask.

  “Oh yeah. Here, let me look out the window for a sec. Let’s see... Metalia is Metal! Metal 4 Life, and... ooh, I like this one, Metalllllllllll. Creative.”

  “Heh. Sorry you’ve got to deal with, um, all of them. I appreciate it, Shia. I appreciate you. You know that, right?”

  “Marie, I know that. I’ve always known that. Don’t you worry, just focus on getting better, alright?”

  “How’s Casey? Is she doing okay? I’m guessing she... knows now. About me.” I ask.

  “Little sis is fine, don’t worry. She knows... well, here, I’ll let her answer that. Casey, here ya go.” I hear a little rustling as Shia hands the phone over to Casey. My heart is still beating uncomfortably fast.

  After a moment, I hear Casey’s voice come through the phone. “Hi, Marie. Feeling better?”

  “Casey,” It feels so good hearing her voice. She’s safe. She’s with Shia. Everything is okay. “Hi. Yeah, I’m... I’m good. Listen, I want to s–”

  “You don’t have to apologize or anything, Marie. To be totally honest, I knew you were Metalia from the get-go. I mean, c’mon, it was pretty obvious.”

  Beside me, Alex stifles a laugh behind her hand. I stumble for words. “I... uh, really?”

  “Totally. C’mon, I’m your sister. I’d recognize you in a mask anyday.”

  I sigh. She’s right. “Alright, alright. Well, now that you know... I want to talk to you and Shia about something. Can you put me on speaker so she can hear, too?”

  I hear a button being pressed and another few moments of shuffling before Shia’s voice comes through the speaker again. “Alright, we’re here. What’s up?”

  “So. After that embarrassing, to say in the least, defeat at the hands of Van Houten, I’ve had a lot of time to think. And what I’ve realized is that... you were right. You, Shia, and Alex. I can’t do this on my own. As much as I wanted to, I see now that doing what I do... it’s not just about strength or superpowers. The city was doing fine without me, and it’ll be fine when I’m gone. But as long as I’m around, I want to do my best, and that means taking help from anywhere I can get it. From you two, especially, if you’re still offering it. So... I know that I made it seem like I didn’t want a team, but I do. I definitely do, if you’re still offering.”

  There’s a moment of quiet on the other end of the phone. I look over at Alex. Did I say something wrong?

  “Nitehawk is on your side, always. Just point me in the right direction and I’m yours.”

  Casey pipes up, “So, do I get a cool nickname, or what?”

  “Sure thing, Casey.” Alex says through a laugh. “How about... Einstein?”

  We all four share a laugh through the phone and I finally feel vaguely like things are back to normal. But, unfortunately, reality sets in. “Alright, so... Van Houten. I’ve spent too much time being afraid of him, thinking about him in general. I just... I want to get rid of him. It seemed utterly impossible on my own, but... with you all, I know it can be done. He’s dangerous, but I think I know how we can deter him. He’s working on creating an army of his own because controlling the private tech sector isn’t enough. He’s got to have his own little military, too. And once he has that who knows what he could possibly do. The helmets he’s been passing out have implants in them that allow him to control the wearer. Right now about three hundred cops in New York City have his armor.”

  “So we just have to keep them from putting on the armor, right?” Casey asks.

  “Wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, they’ve already been distributed and there’s nothing really we can do about that. I think our solution is a little simpler than that. When they’re wearing the helmets he can control them, b
ut he’s just human. He can’t do everything once.”

  “If we distract him, he won’t be able to control his army members?” Alex asks.

  “Exactly. We’ll have an army of our own. Us, whoever Alex can convince from NYPD, and, I’m hoping, all of those sign-holders out front. That’s where you two come in, Shia, Casey.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll get on recruitment duty. When are we doing this shindig?”

  “Tomorrow night. If there’s anything I’ve learned from these last few months, it’s that criminals are incredibly predictable. I’ve been making the mistake of coming to him. Now, I’m going to make him come to us.”

  We spend another few minutes talking details about tomorrow night and I can feel pride rising inside of me. I’m more hopeful than I have been in weeks. We can do this. Together, we can take down Van Houten.

  The next day comes sooner than I’d like. I’d love a few more hours to just cuddle with Alex on this tiny polyester couch, but I didn’t sleep incredibly well last night with thoughts of what’s to come today keeping my brain on all night.

  “Morning,” Alex purrs from behind me, her arm tightening around my hip. My feet are hanging off the edge of the couch, and this thin blanket is nowhere near enough for the both of us, but I’m so grateful to be here with Alex.

  “Morning.” I murmur, sitting up and peering over my shoulder at her. She’s smiling sleepily and drags a couple of fingers through my hair.

  “Big day... your vindication. Excited?”

  “Nervous.” I admit. “I kind of want to throw up. But in a good way. If that can ever be a good thing.”

  “Everything is going to be alright. I promise.” Alex whispers. Then, sitting up onto her elbows, she draws me down into a soft, lazy kiss.

  As we’re both sort of wanted public figures at the moment, we both borrow clothes from Rob’s closet. I put on a pair of blue scrubs and a baseball cap on top of my Metalia suit while Alex puts on a Hawaiian-patterned button-up shirt and cargo shorts. I can’t help but snort at her as we tentatively leave Rob’s apartment.