by Ekeke, C. C.
Hugo fought back a smile. “Should’ve seen that coming.” He glanced at J-Tom in her armor, lifting wrecked cars onto tow trucks. Max, still in partial shift, dug through the ruins of Paragon’s Pub.
Hugo’s mirth dimmed as he faced the reporters. “It takes a community to protect a city. And this team belongs to that community.”
“What is your team called?”
A moment ago, Hugo didn’t know. He rubbed his chin, eyeing that wrecked pub. “The name is from a superhero active before my time.” Hugo spoke boldly, digging into his vast superhero knowledge. That speech elective he took sophomore year was coming in handy. “The first superhero. The American Original. He set the standard for Titan, Lady Liberty, and everyone else.” Hugo glanced down when recalling the tragedy that befell this icon. “Until a monster brainwashed him into committing atrocities beyond measure. His accomplishments were tainted or erased. Even his hometown disavowed him.”
Hugo sensed discomfort washing over the reporters. Of course, since they knew whom he spoke of. This could end badly, a voice cautioned. Hugo steeled his worries away, solid in his decision. “This team will strive to live up to the best part of his legacy. Myself, Arclight, Polymer, Ballistic, Loba.” Hugo pointed to each hero he proclaimed, landing last on Cherry Blossom. Not wanting to name her on camera, a possible codename came to mind. “And Sakura. We are…The Paragons.”
That unleashed a cacophony of questions and flashing cameras.
“That’s right, San Miguel!” Polymer marched up to Hugo’s side. “Forget any build-a-team contests.” He gestured at his lanky frame. “The Paragons stand ready!”
Hugo glared at him. “Try giving less of a shit,” he hissed.
That wiped the gusto off Polymer’s face. “Sorry.”
Hugo turned his attention back to the media. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there’s a city to repair.”
“The Paragons?” J-Tom inquired when Hugo approached. “You just came up with that?”
He shrugged. “Spur-of-the-moment choice.” Hugo felt something click with that name. And trying to take back a declared codename or superhero team name after it got press coverage was very difficult.
J-Tom nodded her helmeted head in agreement. “I like.”
Max, however, wasn’t thrilled by her codename. “Since when am I Loba?”
“It’s Spanish for ‘she-wolf’,” Hugo countered.
“I know that…oh…” Max paused and considered this. “I like!”
“You kids need help?” Lady Liberty floated several feet above like some benevolent goddess about to pass judgment.
Ballistic, Max, J-Tom, and Polymer turned to Hugo, who waved her over. “The more the merrier.”
Lady Liberty’s face gave away her joy at being accepted again. She landed, and gave him a glowing look before introducing herself to the mostly starstruck group.
Hugo felt eyes on him. In a corner away from view, Becky Knox leaned against a wall, arms folded while watching him pointedly.
She then disappeared into the nearby alleyway.
Hugo experienced various strong emotions at the sight of her. What these emotions were, he hadn’t figured out. But Hugo had to confront Becky now. “One second.” He zoomed toward that narrow alley.
Hugo braked in front of Becky. She was briefly startled before a lazy smile tugged at her plump lips. “You looked very iconic back there, Aegis.”
Hugo got in her face. “What is your business with Saracen?”
Becky scoffed. “None of yours.”
Her defiance didn’t surprise him. “He came after people I care about, so I’m making it my business.”
Becky was no longer amused. “Whatever you think you know is bullshit.”
“And I should just take your word for it?”
That left Becky visibly stung. “If I wasn’t on your side, why would I help you?”
Hugo wanted to believe her, but something in him resisted. “I’ve been burned before.”
Her features hardened. No sentiment lived there. “Don’t believe me? Fine. Just stop acting like you have the answers when you don’t even know the questions.” She pushed past him and stormed off down the alleyway.
Hugo watched her go, his mind awash with confusion.
Chapter 44
Greyson reclined on a couch, wincing as Connie inspected his lean and bare torso. A few aches from that bitch Erika Skye’s hot knives lingered. Besides that, he’d come out of that confrontation mostly unscathed.
They didn’t return to their condo. Too much exposure. Who knew if one of those surveillance drones had followed him? Luckily, Paxton-Brandt had a safe house in Fort Defiance deep in Shenandoah Valley outside city limits. And a dead zone with a twenty-mile radius extended around the facility.
“Better than expected,” Connie murmured. She nestled against him while they watched the widescreen.
Ron Keaton, a National News Network anchor in a pleated black suit, graced the screen with a very serious news face. “Shenandoah’s Paragon Day ended in tragedy when the Natural Born Thrillers superhero team incited an all-out brawl,” Keaton went on. “No one knows what caused the blowup. But the toll on this city, which has already suffered over the years, was unimaginably high. Forty-one dead, over a hundred injured.”
Satisfaction nearly burst out of Greyson. Push the right amount of pressure and The Natural Born Thrillers destroyed themselves. Just as planned.
Connie shuddered after the casualty count was read. Her face grew increasingly remorseful. Greyson studied this reaction, wondering if this would become a recurring problem.
Keaton continued. “Here’s footage of disgraced hero, Bulldozer, trampling a crowd while his teammates did little to stop him. Be warned, this footage is graphic.”
Bulldozer, roaring like a crazed beast, came charging forward down the street. College kids ran screaming. Yet Bulldozer gained on them with loping strides, running those civilians over. It looked almost as bad on camera.
Connie buried her face in Greyson’s shoulder, while his stomach twisted. Luckily, the footage cut off before the full gory aftermath.
The screen returned to reveal Keaton’s distressed news-anchor face. “If not for this Damocles person, who posted damning secrets online about the Natural Born Thrillers, the death toll would’ve been higher. No word on his current whereabouts. But I can safely say that most of the Natural Born Thrillers have been taken into custody and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. But Shattershot is currently at large.” Keaton went on. “Public figures like Senator Huntley of West Virginia have already spoken up about their thoughts.”
The US Senator appeared, a flat-faced man with curled red hair and piercing hazel eyes. “My prayers are with the people of Shenandoah.” His expression turned incensed. “Once again, we had a preventable tragedy if not for the leeway we give caped thugs who are as big a threat as the villains they fight.” Huntley’s voice soared. “We, the people, are tired of being terrorized. But President Khan, or should I say the Superhero-in-Chief, will do nothing due to her obvious bias.”
The screen returned to Keaton, suppressing his distaste. “These comments echo those made by Damocles. Below are his words.”
Greyson felt odd watching himself spouting about the dangers of superheroes. It stunned him how many people were cheering. I’ve started a movement, he realized.
Connie gazed up at Greyson. “You’re right, it was a melodramatic monologue,” she noted dryly.
“It’s a villain thing, I guess.” Greyson sat with this newfound obligation. “But it got people’s attention.”
The Natural Born Thrillers were no more. Greyson rejoiced. He had nothing against them as individuals, except Bulldozer, just their corporate-sponsored heroics.
Connie’s mouth pulled into a playful grin. “I loved it. It’s just…the body count.” She looked away. “I had Amarantha flashbacks.”
Greyson let his shoulders slump. The visuals of this urban warzone had penetr
ated his hardened heart. “They had to see the price tag when a weapon of mass destruction becomes your guardian.” He ran gentle fingers down Connie’s back.
“Let’s tone things down next time?” Her voice was hoarse with emotion.
Greyson couldn’t promise a lack of casualties. But the amount this last time was more than expected. “I’ll try, Con.”
After some reporters spoke about Shenandoah's mood, the camera returned to Keaton. “In other superhero news, a similar situation unfolded in San Miguel. A group of four kinetic-type criminals called the Forces of Nature ran roughshod through the suburb of Atascadero.” A smile cracked Keaton’s features. “But thanks to Aegis and his new team, the Paragons, the group was apprehended.” Keaton made an awkward face. “Maybe someone should talk to Aegis about that ill-timed name.”
Him again. Greyson’s mood plummeted upon seeing that hooded bastard, standing tall flanked by his allies. “We should’ve targeted him first,” Greyson griped, popping up. “Now he has a team.”
Connie curled up on the couch with equal disdain. “Aegis has to be next.”
Greyson turned to his wife. “He will be,” he guaranteed. No more bullshitting. Aegis had to be stopped while he was still a rookie.
The newscast vanished as an incoming video call appeared. Greyson’s heart leaped when he saw the caller. “Olin.”
Connie rolled her eyes. “How apropos.” She clicked a button on the remote control to accept.
The Paxton-Brandt CEO appeared onscreen with that thick curly blond hair, wearing a dress shirt with the collar unbuttoned. “Congratulations, Greyson,” he declared. “Are you well?”
“Great,” Greyson remarked tersely.
If Olin noted his annoyance, he didn’t react. “We have all five Thrillers in custody. Shattershot and his lover will get clean slates. The others…” His smile turned cruel. “We'll find appropriate uses for them.”
The Natural Born Thrillers were no longer Greyson’s concern. “What about Aegis?”
Olin nodded, expecting this. “In the future.” He squinted. “But not immediately.”
Greyson’s rage was instinctive. “That’s not acceptable, Steve,” he retorted in sharper tones. “Aegis is selling his bullshit to everyone with a team behind him. We have to strike now.”
Olin’s stare was hard as steel. “No.”
Greyson didn’t flinch, but the churning power within begged for release. “I am not asking, Olin.”
The two men glared back at each other for several seconds, the tension thick enough to choke on.
Then Olin softened by a hairsbreadth. “You made quite a public debut, Greyson,” he reminded. “Which means Aegis, Lady Liberty, Freedom’s Ring, and Battalion will be preparing for you. Is that what you want? To go after Aegis and fail?”
The explanation cooled Greyson’s ire. Now he felt foolish. “I don’t.”
Olin’s pockmarked features relaxed. “Same here. Which means we need to let Aegis and his group get complacent, lazy even.” His smile became fatherly. “All the while, you’re studying their moves, their habits, their connections. Let them forget about you. And when they are least expecting it, you will break them and be the sword of your namesake to lop their heads off.”
Greyson had to laugh at that.
Behind him, Connie nodded in agreement. “He’s got a point, Hirsch.”
Olin studied her as if she’d made a dumb statement. “Of course I do. Why else would I be running a global conglomerate?” He winked.
Greyson couldn’t dispute those facts. And against a hero lauded as the next Titan, power wouldn’t be enough. “Alright, Steve,” he acquiesced. “We’ll play this your way. For now.”
The bunker entrance slid open. Asher Martin entered in a designer suit with a roguish smile, like he owned the place. “Greyson! Your work tonight was sublime.”
Greyson whipped around. In that moment, Erika’s words filled his thoughts and why they held such familiarity. “You…” The concrete room suddenly felt very crowded.
Asher walked up, hands outstretched, too drunk on victory to read the room. “I had my doubts, but you came—AGGH.”
He got launched back toward the wall on Greyson’s right. The air rushed out of him as he slammed hard against concrete, limbs splayed like a starfish.
Connie leaped off the couch. “Greyson!”
“Hirsch, what are you doing?” Olin barked onscreen, outraged.
Dark fury eddied around Greyson’s insides when he looked at Asher. “Tonight almost went south,” he explained. “Because someone leaked my identity to Erika Skye.”
The blood drained from Olin’s face.
Connie eyed Asher. “Asher?”
Asher squirmed and struggled but couldn’t free himself. “Why would I do that, you psycho?”
Greyson shrugged, the only person in this situation remaining calm. “Jealousy. Aggrievement. So many different insecurities.”
Olin’s squinted eyes darted to his subordinate. “Asher?”
Asher was fuming. “He’s lying!”
Greyson went further. “Erika called me a fraud with powers—only one other person used those words. And I’m staring at him.” He increased the wall’s gravity, Asher’s bones creaking under the strain.
After six seconds of increasing pressure, Asher cried uncle. “Okay, okay!” he wailed, and Greyson eased up. “Your mistakes almost derailed this project. I needed to protect Paxton-Brandt.” He looked to the viewscreen beseechingly. “Mr. Olin, you have to understand that.”
Greyson couldn’t let Asher live. By Connie’s expression, what she wanted was evident. But Asher was a Paxton-Brandt employee. The go-ahead could only come from one man. “How are we playing this, Steve?”
Olin adjusted his collar with a stony mask that revealed nothing. “I’ll send a cleaner when you’re finished.”
Asher looked close to a heart attack. “Mr. Olin! Give me another chance.”
The flatscreen went dark.
Greyson guffawed. “The same chance you gave me?” Many ways he could end Asher came to mind. Colorful and gruesome ways. Only one avenue resonated. He turned to Connie. “This man insulted you in front of me.”
“I apologized!” Asher blurted out.
Connie tilted her head sideways, smiling wickedly. “I didn’t accept.”
Greyson waved her forward. “He’s all yours.”
Connie planted a firm kiss on his lips. “You complete me.” She turned and reached out, passing intangible fingers through Asher’s face.
Greyson didn’t turn when the executive screamed, Connie going partially solid with her hand wrist-deep.
Just as quickly, she went intangible and yanked her hand back out.
Greyson negated the altered gravity, and Asher slid to the floor, eyes bloodshot, ears and nose leaking blood. He marveled at his amazing wife. God, I love this woman.
Chapter 45
“No fucking way!” AJ exclaimed on the living room couch.
“Angelo!” Mom barked from the kitchen. “Language!”
AJ scrunched his face. “Bogie swears a lot.”
Hugo, seated with him and Simon, jabbed his brother in the ribs.
Mom responded with a reproachful side-eye that dared her sons to talk back.
AJ shrank away. “Sorry.” He refocused on Hugo. “No frigging way.”
“Yeah frigging way.” Hugo yawned. Two days of clean up in Atascadero was exhausting. “The thefts were an inside job.” He’d heard from Dawson last night. On TV, that charmless bag of farts, Senator Huntley, was on a talk show berating supers for the Atascadero attack. Added with news about the Forces of Nature causing the recent disasters, the Paragons hadn’t grabbed as many headlines.
“How was it an inside job?” Simon asked.
Hugo recited what he’d heard. “Salto Institute owns nine labs across America. But employees from each lab need clearance to access physical stuff from other labs.”
AJ scratched the back of his
neck. “Like the Tiamat corpse?”
Hugo nodded. “Nina Smarts was one of few Salto employees with access to all labs. Salto’s NYC branch went rogue, wanting to profit off designer kaiju. So they set up a black market auction to raise funds.”
Simon looked as shellshocked as Hugo had felt. “What about Villains-For-Hire?”
“Hired to kill Dr. Smarts and rob Salto Institute’s other labs,” Hugo said, “using disasters to distract.”
Simon and AJ were speechless. “Good lord,” Mom murmured from the kitchen.
“The Myriad that got arrested went braindead within an hour.” Hugo bristled. “She was a duplicate.”
Simon went wide-eyed. “Again?”
Hugo furrowed his brow in frustration. “The real Myriad is still out there. She’s a clever one.”
Mom emerged from the kitchen in a blouse and slacks, frizzy curls styled in a low bun. She was starting her new position today. “Max? Angelo? Ready to go?”
AJ stood unhurriedly. Max emerged from the guestroom in a t-shirt, jeans, and her favorite denim coat. “Born ready.” All San Luis Obispo County schools were closed the rest of the week while the district conducted seismic testing. Mom was dropping AJ off at Dallas Dunleavy’s house and Max at Danger Room for a morning shift. Max was spending more time with Becky Knox to keep tabs on her for Hugo.
She looked at Hugo. “Patrol tonight?”
Hugo stood and grinned back. “You, me, and Ballistic.”
Max clapped. “This superhero stuff is fun.” Her mirth dimmed. “But I’ll need to visit New Mexico in a few weeks and check on my family.”
Hugo wasn’t surprised to hear this. “When you go, the Paragons follow.”
Max flinched from the offer, as if accepting showed weakness. “Bogie, you don’t have to—”
Hugo waved off the protest. “Teamwork makes the team work.” He held out a fist. “Paragons for life.”
Max burst out laughing and fist-bumped him. “That’s not a thing.”
“I’m making it a thing,” Hugo quipped. He wished his mother good luck before she left with AJ and Max.
He sat beside Simon. “So…” He put on a tight-lipped smile, tapping his foot. “Thanks for being there.”
