Forced Betrayal (8 page)

*****

 

It happens so fast, I can barely see, she's mostly a blur. But the steps she follows are methodical and logical. She's thought this through.

She goes after Widening Gyre first. The man who killed her lover. She flashes across the auditorium and blows through him like a cannonball. The falcon-headed chaos god explodes in a burst of flesh and feathers. As his remains shower down over his comrades--Thunder Perfect Mind and the Jupitarian--Hericane zooms after her next target.

This time, it's Mogul, but he knows she's coming and kicks into hyperdrive. She chases him all over the auditorium at super-speed, racing through every inch of the place, even vibrating through every obstacle.

And eventually, she catches him. I see a flare of lightning from the blur of motion, and then Mogul's charred body hurtles to the back of the auditorium.

The smoking corpse lands in front of Thunder Perfect Mind and the Jupitarian, who jump back when it hits. They gape at the body, then at each other, and then they make a run for it, charging out the double doors into the lobby. They flee just in time; seconds later, the blur of Hericane's unstoppable flight punches through the spot where they were standing.

That leaves just one more stop. She flies past CEO, who's still out cold, and lands in front of Stalwart.

"It's almost time," he tells her, looking up at the screen. "The Refraxus is about to open."

Hericane's eyes never leave his face. "I used to look up to you. You were one of the greats. And the way you spent so many years here, holding the line." She smiles sadly. "I thought you were like a god with the world on your shoulders."

"More like the man who keeps pushing the same boulder up the hill, only to have it roll down again." Stalwart sighs. "So what are you going to do? Let the boulder fall one last time?"

Hericane takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Never."

He frowns. "You'll let me live then? You'll forgive me?"

Her hands dart out and grasp the sides of his head. With one quick motion, she twists it hard left, facing almost behind him. The sharp crack of his snapping spine seems to echo through the theater.

"Never," says Hericane as she lets the body fold to the red carpeted floor.

And then she turns to me.

"Thank you," she says, "for helping me solve the case."

"Any time." I know where this is going, of course. She's going to do the only thing she
can
do. "And thank you..." For what? For sacrificing everything for the good of humanity? "Thank you for asking about my family."

"No problem." She smiles. "I hope it gets better for you."

Suddenly, a throbbing hum rises from the stage. Coruscating rays of crimson light erupt from the movie screen, casting both of us in shimmering red radiance.

"You better get going." Hericane bobs her head toward the doors in the back. "The, uh--you know--is on its way."

"Sure." My heart is pounding. I don't want to be anywhere near this place when the Refraxus opens again. But I feel like there's something left unsaid.

I reach for the words, but they won't come. Maybe something left
undone
is more like it.

So I throw myself forward and wrap her in my arms. I hug her tight, with everything I've got.

And she hugs me back. For one precious moment, by the burning red light of another world, we press against each other--cheek to cheek, hip to hip, heart to heart.

We know what's coming. We know I must leave, and we know she must stay. Because there was only one other hero in the world who could hold the line in this place, and she is his daughter. She's the only one who stands a chance.

Time seems to stand still. Floating dust motes sparkle in the rippling crimson glow.

Then, the throbbing hum becomes a thundering boom, and a hot wind gusts from the stage. I hear the screaming of a thousand maniacs, smell the stench of a hundred rotting corpses.

The portal's open again.

Hericane pushes me away. "Go! Hurry!"

"Good luck," I tell her, and then I turn and run.

And I don't look back.

 

*****

 

A week later, I get out of my car in St. Ignatius Cemetery. Dressed in black, arms full of flowers, I walk across the flat green lawn toward a gravesite.

It's the same cemetery where they buried Stalwart, but I'm not here for him. I wasn't invited to the funeral, which happened just yesterday. Seems I'm persona non grata in superhuman land these days; the Protectorate forced me to take early retirement and even revoked my membership from the organization.

Nobody likes a troublemaker, apparently.

Not that I would have come to the funeral if they'd invited me. Just seeing it on TV made me sick to the stomach--the flag-draped casket, the procession down Main Street, the weeping citizens, the twenty-one gun salute. The President of the United States--the friggin'
President
--reciting a teary-eyed tribute as they lowered the casket into the grave.

What a fucking farce.

Let's keep it all covered up. Keep everyone saying what a hero he was. Avoid awkward explanations that turn the public against him--maybe turn the public against
all
superhumans in the bargain.

Cover those asses, folks. Don't stop and think about how many of the citizens standing along the parade route or watching at home are still mourning the loved ones he murdered. Don't think about how many of them are still wondering what ever happened to their missing husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, children. Fuck that noise.

There are a hundred reasons to keep lying, and only one not to: because it's the right thing to do.

And that's not enough.

But it was for Hericane. Thanks to her, the world keeps turning. And I get the chance to do something I haven't done in seven years.

I was worried I wouldn't remember where they were...but no. I see them up ahead, in a shady spot under a tree. Three stone markers--a big one flanked by two little ones.

Oh God.

I stop and stare from a distance, feeling like I can't go on. Feeling like I don't belong here.

But I do. My name is on the biggest stone, and the year of my birth. Someday, I'll be here forever.

Oh God.

My heart's pounding, and sweat's rolling down my sides. Chills course through my body, and my head spins.

I look away and consider turning back. I can't do this, I shouldn't have come.

The last time I was here was the funeral--their funeral. No flag-draped caskets or President of the United States or twenty-one gun salutes then. Just a dozen or so people, and a priest, and the pouring rain. Just me losing it, weeping and teetering, drunk and drugged. Falling to my knees in the mud.

I haven't been back since. I couldn't bring myself to do it. Bad enough I could still imagine their ghosts; why subject myself to physical proof?

So why come here today then? Because my life has been turned upside-down? Because I need to make a clean break with the past and get a fresh start? Because the end of the world is closer than I imagined, and I might never get another chance?

Or is it something else?

I think of Hericane taking Stalwart's place at the Refraxus. Driving back the Manifestation again and again. Fighting off its corrupting influence, too, as it grows stronger. Holding the monsters at bay both within and without. Never knowing more than a few moments' peace.

She was right about her power, inherited from Epitome, being enough to fend off the great beast--but can she keep her soul pure in the process? Or will she become the next Stalwart, twisted by unnatural cravings?

Will she falter, and allow the world to end?

The burdens she's taken upon herself are astronomically huge. The work is thankless, without reward. She has lost or given up everything she ever cared about.

But she does it anyway, because of that one reason. The same reason the Protectorate could have found to stop the lying, if they'd looked a little harder.

Because it's the right thing to do.

So okay, then.

I take a deep breath, and I face the three gravestones again. I grip the flowers so tightly, I'm afraid the stems might snap, and I start walking.

As I get closer, the names on the three stones come into focus. Even through my tears.

James
Taggart, Husband and Father

William Taggart, Son

Stephen Taggart, Son

It was the end of the world when I lost them. It's the end of the world again.

Maybe it's time I finally let them go.

 

*****

 

Also by DC Comics Author Robert T. Jeschonek

Another Super-Hero Saga
in the

Forced Heroics
Series:

Forced Retirement

 

What if Alzheimer's struck the World's Mightiest Hero? His daughter, heroic Hericane, finds out the hard way. Gripped by dementia, godlike Epitome tears apart a city, and no one can stop him. Will his madness destroy the entire world? Not if Hericane recruits the one big gun who stands a chance in Hell of stopping her father in his tracks. But the battle of the century between the super-charged titans might just kick-start the Apocalypse instead of stopping it. Because Epitome and his nemesis have much more in common than ultimate power. The shocking secret they share could turn history itself inside out.

 

Now on Sale!

 

*****

 

Also Now on Sale

Another Super-Hero Epic by Robert T. Jeschonek

A Matter of Size

 

Who is killing the world's smallest super-heroes? Down-on-his-luck masked avenger Man-Child takes the case, but can he save the remaining Small Wonders from a killer with a twisted crush fetish? Man-Child takes on villainous Mammon and Stigmata without missing a beat, but his own dark secret might be enough to bring him down for good. Fighting through the shadows and gutters, Man-Child confronts the horrors of yesterday and today, learning a brutal lesson the hard way: even a size-changing super-hero can't afford to shrink from the darkness around him...or in the depths of his own heart.

 

Now on Sale for Mature Readers Only!

 

*****

 

Another Super-Hero Tale by Robert T. Jeschonek

Heroes of Global Warming

The world's hottest hero has gone rogue! In an age of global warming, super-heated hero Skillet looks like a lukewarm loser. But when his teammates, the Castigators, turn their backs on him, he turns the Castigators into prey. Let the hunt begin! Skillet becomes public enemy number one as he rounds up his former allies. But the secret plan behind his hunt might just save the world. The invention of evil genius Brain Fart could turn back the clock on global warming by melting down the high-powered do-gooders. Can Skillet capture the last of the heroes needed to charge the climate change reverser? Or will an out-for-blood super-hero hit squad cook his goose first? The hope of the future explodes in a fight to the death between the caped-and-cowled warriors of a doomed generation.

 

Now on Sale!

 

*****

 

And Don't Miss This Collection of Super-Hero Comic Scripts

Also by Robert T. Jeschonek

 

7 Comic Book Scripts

 

Comic book and super-hero fans, rejoice! This volume includes seven scripts—mostly super-hero tales, plus one war/horror story—from a writer whose work has been published by DC Comics, among others. Robert T. Jeschonek has written plenty of scripts in his career, and these seven will shine a light on his writing process, his wild imagination…and some thrilling and thought-provoking adventures. The first in a series collecting some of his best work, this action-packed book includes seven scripts:

 

"Super-Powered Poser Blues": A super-hero stand-in runs into unexpected problems while impersonating a mighty mortal.

 

"My Date With Godling": A hard-driving cosmic god-hero launches a mission under false pretenses…a mission that quickly goes from intense to insane.

 

"The Mime: On Bread Alone": An endangered priest is protected by a silent hero whose make-believe performances have real world consequences.

 

"Young Soldiers Never Die": A future warrior discovers that one man's idea of a perfect soldier is another man's idea of pure hell.

 

"The Child Is Father to the Man": The younger selves of three great old-time heroes leap forward to the future after suffering their greatest defeat.

 

"Johnstown Man: Losing Ground": A blue collar steel town hero battles crime in the age of layoffs.

 

"Don't Tug on Superstar's Cape": A super souvenir hunter goes after the ultimate prize from the ultimate hero and nearly loses everything in the bargain.

 

Don't miss this collection of seven comic book scripts for one low price. It's the latest book from award-winning storyteller Robert T. Jeschonek (My Favorite Band Does Not Exist), a master of unique and unexpected fiction that packs a punch.

 

Now on Sale!

 

*****

 

About the Author

 

Robert T. Jeschonek is an award-winning writer whose fiction, comics, essays, articles, and podcasts have been published around the world. His young adult urban fantasy novel,
My Favorite Band Does Not Exist
, was named one of
Booklist
's Top Ten First Novels for Youth. Simon & Schuster, DAW/Penguin Books, and DC Comics have published his work. He won the grand prize in Pocket Books' nationwide
Strange New Worlds
contest and was nominated for the British Fantasy Award. Visit him online at www.thefictioneer.com. You can also find him on Facebook and follow him as @TheFictioneer on Twitter.