“No, no, no nononononononooooo,” the plant goddess shrieks.
“I think,” I say to Ann, “I think I know what your
real
super power is now.”
Ann holds her hands up in front of her face like they are foreign objects. “I don’t just stop heroes’ powers, I can take them. Do you think this is permanent?”
I nod at Flaura. “She sure seems to think so.”
“What should we do about her?”
“Nothing,” I say. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry and I think she’s pretty harmless now. We need to get up to the roof before The Patriot and Tess tear this city to pieces.”
WE DECIDE AGAINST
the elevator. If the shit hits the fan on the roof, being stuck in a steel deathtrap with no power wouldn’t get us anywhere. On our way up the first flight of stairs, Ann says, “Why did Flaura go after you so hard? She barely seemed worried about me.”
I already thought about this one. “The heroes think that
I’m
the one who cancels out their powers, not you. She probably wanted to eliminate the bigger threat.” My hip burns as I run up the stairs.
We get to the landing between the third and fourth stories when trouble hits.
Miles appears on the first step in front of us with his hand on a man. The traveler disappears leaving behind a seven-foot-tall, 300-pound man covered in tattoos.
“Inkwell,” Ann says, pushing me back through the door that leads into the third floor hallway.
There are three or four doors down the long corridor, all of them closed. At least there aren’t any civilians in the way.
Inkwell grabs his leather jacket with one hand and pulls it open. A dog growls low. The sound comes from an overly-muscled tattoo of a pit bull on Inkwell’s chest. The tattooed dog moves and snarls before pulling itself free of Inkwell’s chest and forming into an actual canine. The dog charges.
I pull the shotgun off my back and take a shot at the dog. The spray of shot catches the evil mutt in the flank and stops it in its tracks. Ann is close to the tattooed goliath, but he’s got a hooded cobra twisted around his arm, spitting venom in her direction.
Miles appears in the hallway a few feet behind Ann and Inkwell, but there’s no one with him this time. He's gone again in a flash. Did Ann’s power’s fuck with his ability? Did he forget someone?
No time to wonder. Inkwell’s free hand parts his jacket. On the bare skin of his stomach is a tattoo of a pistol tucked under his belt line. When his hand closes around the butt of the gun, it becomes as real as the dog. I pump the shotgun and fire off a shot before he can finish drawing. The shot goes wide, but the hero gives me his full attention.
He swings his Dirty Harry hand cannon in my direction. In a flash, Ann pulls the gun off her hip and fires three shots directly into his chest. The big man falls back to a wall, and slides down to the ground, leaving a red smear behind on tacky wallpaper.
Ann holsters her gun. Behind her, a man I’ve never seen materializes out of nowhere. He’s sneaking up behind her like I can’t see him and he has a wicked looking curved blade in his hand. I cock the shotgun one more time and fire a shot. Ann dives to the side, probably thinking I’m shooting at her. A spray of holes pepper the man’s chest.
The invisible man falls to the ground, convulsing. I sling the gun across my back and run across the hall to him. Ann beats me there.
“Vizzy,” she says. She’s on her knees over the top of the fallen hero, or is it villain in this case? “He can make himself invisible.”
Miles must have dropped him off. His invisibility hid him until he got close to Ann and she nullified his powers. He’s still alive, but his convulsions are slowing. There isn’t much life left in him.
“Ann,” I say. I don’t want to say this, but it needs done. “Touch him.”
She looks up at me like she’s about to argue, but something stops her. Her hand gently rests on his chest.
“Well?” I ask.
“I don’t feel anything. With Flaura it was like I felt something change inside me.”
I think for a second, look down at her hand on his shirt—his shirt, not his skin. “Ann, touch his skin.”
Vizzy’s eyes flicker open and closed. When they’re open they shift back and forth between Ann and I. Sweat is beading on his forehead and his convulsions have slowed into the shakes of someone trying to warm themselves after a snowball fight in December.
Ann swallows hard, like she’s pushing down more than air. Her hand rises up and brushes against Vizzy’s cheek. She gasps. Vizzy turns his face into her touch. A single tear rolls down from the edge of his eye and his chest stops heaving. His whole body stops shaking. I put my hand up and pull his eyelids down, taking Ann’s hand away from his face in the process.
“Thank you,” she whispers. A tremor runs through her hand as I let it go.
“Can you…”
Ann drinks in another breath as if the air is thick as syrup. She closes her eyes and vanishes. After a couple seconds of being in the hall alone, she reappears a few steps closer to the stairwell. She exits through the door to the stairs, and I follow. We get three more floors up before Miles transports another obstacle in our way like this is the motherfucking Game of Death or something.
Miles shows up, drops off a familiar-looking Asian man and disappears.
“Sorry,” says Sus, the hero capable of freezing people in time.
I catch a glimpse of Ann disappearing before everything around me freezes.
The entire scene in front of me changes without even the blink of an eye. Ann is ten steps closer to Sus than she was a moment ago. He must have frozen me, but she broke his power. Maybe he couldn’t freeze her if he couldn’t see her? Why is so much of this hero shit hypothetical?
Sus takes a punch at Ann’s head. She blocks it with her arm, but not the follow up shot that catches her in the liver. She groans and wraps her arms around her midsection. Losing her balance, she tumbles down a handful of stairs. With Ann clear, I pull my pistol and fire three shots. All the bullets hit center mass of Sus. He tumbles backward over the railing. I check over the edge. His body is on the cement landing in a pool of blood.
I wrap an arm around Ann and pull her to her feet. She’s got a bloody lip and an arm wrapped around her midsection, but she’ll live. She tries to get around me.
“He’s gone,” I say and drag her up the stairs. “Come on, we have to get to the roof before things go atomic up there.”
Ann nods and starts ahead of me. Every time she rounds a corner for the next flight, I catch a glimpse of her face wincing in pain. I’m betting she’s still back to normal after that liver punch from Sus. Having been hit there before, I know it hurts like a motherfucker for a long time. Ann doesn’t complain, doesn’t say a word. This woman might be made out of the same grit and steel that Tess’ dad came from.
After what seems like an endless amount of stairs we come to a final door. Winded and hopped up on adrenaline and ready for a fight, I push open the door into a hallway. At the end of the hall is a sign that says ‘Roof Access,’ with an arrow pointing to another set of stairs.
I put my hands on my knees and suck in not nearly enough oh-two. Why is my mouth so small and my lungs so greedy? Ann takes a couple steps toward the final stairs and freezes. At the end of the hall, Miles shows up and drops off an extremely pissed-off guy with electricity crackling between his fingertips.
Fuck me.
I mean seriously, I was just kidding about the Game of Death thing.
Ann growls through clenched teeth. Lightshow pulls his hand back with a ball of static forming in his palm like he belongs in a video game. Hopefully he yells out, ‘Santa Monica’ before he chars our asses. Behind Lightshow is a tall, viny plant in a decorative pot. The plant launches from it planter and wraps itself around the hero’s lightning-clad hand before snaking its way to his throat.
Lightshow lets the ball in his hand dissolve as he brings both hands to his neck to fight the possessed vine. I take the distraction as the perfect time to pull my gun and pop off a handful of shots into Lightshow’s chest. The hero falls over backwards, dead.
Ann and I haul ass over to the stairway before any other heroes show up and make this any more difficult. There are only ten steps up to a door that exits to the roof. The door is solid so we have no way of knowing what awaits us on the other side.
I stop with my hand on the lever of the door. “Are you ready?” I pull out a new clip and swap it out with the half-empty one in the gun.
Ann pulls her own gun and nods.
Here we go.
One.
Two.
Three.
Shove door and step out, guns drawn.
I DON’T KNOW
exactly what I was expecting to see, but the scene in front of me is so-fucking-not-that it hurts. Fifteen feet from the opening of the door—out of the reach of Ann’s powers—is Tess. She’s wearing the same hooded sweatshirt she’s had on, but the hood is pulled back. Tears are streaking down her face.
She’s facing someone off to the left. I turn to see The Patriot on his knees. His gaze is distant like he’s awake, but the lights aren’t on. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed River is standing behind The Patriot with a hand on his shoulder. River looks like shit. His button-up shirt is half-tucked in, half-buttoned wrong, and wrinkled worse than a topography map of the Appalachians. A mostly-empty bottle of whiskey hangs loose in the hand that’s not on Petr’s shoulder.
“River,” I say, as calmly as I can muster, “would you mind telling me what’s going on right now?”
My voice must spook Tess. She jumps and turns toward us. Her hand raises and I’m pretty sure I’m about to get forcibly escorted from this roof. At least there won’t be any more stairs.
“Sam, no,” River shouts. “Wait. Vince sent them. I think he wanted them to help you. They will listen to you, listen to all of this.” His Swedish accent comes out slurred, and I wonder if he’s using Petr as a cane more than anything else.
Tess’ hand stays raised. Ann holds her hands out in front of her and gently sets the gun on the ground at her feet. I do the same. Only then does Tess put her hand down. She glares at us with obvious mistrust. What the hell happened to this woman?
“Sam.” River keeps his voice calm and it’s not just the alcohol. I think he is truly trying to diffuse this situation. My promise to Tess’ parents comes back to mind.
Bring her back to us.
Maybe that will actually happen. “Tell them what happened.”
Tess sighs. She runs a hand through her disheveled hair. Bags hang heavy under her eyes and make her look as well-rested as I feel right now. “This isn’t my fault.” Her voice breaks as she says it. A fresh batch of tears roll down both cheeks.
“What happened?” This time it’s Ann’s voice that is gentle, soothing. I steal a glance over and Ann’s got her arms out like she wants to walk over and give Tess a hug. Tess looks like she needs it.
“It’s their fault.” Tess’ voice drops lower and darker, and she points at Petr. “It’s his fault.” Nothing but pure hatred spilling out of the woman now.
Petr doesn’t move. Whatever River has done to his head, it’s working. He’s turned the world’s most recognizable superhero into a coma patient.
“All I ever wanted to do was help people. Help them.” Tess sweeps her hand out to encompass the city. “And now they’re all scared of me. He made me a monster.”
“Sam, Babe, you’ve got to start from the beginning so they can understand, okay? They can help you.” River lets go of Petr and stumbles toward Tess. Petr stays right where River left him as River wraps a consoling arm around Tess.
“They had this plan,” Tess says, curling her face into River’s shoulder. “They wanted to destroy the Engine so that they would be the most powerful beings in the world. They thought that heroes were gods and shouldn’t be treated like simple civil workers.”
“Who is ‘they,’” I ask.
Tess’ face turns red, scary red. I’m-about-to-bring-this-building-to-the-ground crimson. “Him!” She points a shaky hand at Petr. “All of them. All of the heroes came up with this plan together. They were all in on it.”
“You too?” I nod at River.
“They approached me, yes, but I told them no.” He nuzzles his chin into the top of Tess’ head. “They told me their plan, and I said no.”
“Why not try to stop it?” The disgust in Ann’s voice is almost lethal.
River turns his head up just enough to glare without letting go of Tess. “I thought, ‘Why bother?’ I’m just a fuckup out to drink and piss his life away. Hell, I’m surprised they even approached me. Sam is the only one to ever show me any warmth. Petr didn’t tell me the whole plan, though.”
Tess shivers in River’s grip. She is a broken person, a doll, or a mannequin. I can’t even tell if she’s listening anymore. Her hand opens and closes against the wrinkled front of River’s button-down shirt.
“What didn’t they tell you,” I ask.
“They didn’t tell him about me,” Tess says. I guess she is listening. “Petr asked me out on a couple dates. I was still sore from a rough patch with Jesper.” She pulls her head back to give Jesper/River a strong smile. “I thought maybe Petr could make me feel good and the first couple times out, he did. Then, on our fourth date, he brought up his plan. This was the day before the Engine blew up. He brought it up last-minute to give me little time to warn anyone if I didn’t agree.”
“And you didn’t agree,” Ann says.
“No, I didn’t. I told him I was going straight to Vince about the whole thing. Petr attacked me, but I escaped. I thought I hid out well enough, but they found me.”
Seattle. Ann was right: The heroes were hunting Tess.
Tess bares her teeth in something that’s half-smile, half-grimace. “You know, the funny part,” she huffs, blowing tears off her lips, “they could have killed me at any time, but chose not to.”
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.” Why would they let her go? I don’t get it.
“I thought the same thing. Controlling gravity is a vicious ability, but not unmatchable. I don’t think they planned on me killing any of them, but they wanted me involved in very destructive, very public battles. My theory is they wanted to show the power of a hero if they decided to turn on Humanity, use it as a threat to get their way.”