The Ascension: A Super Human Clash (26 page)

CHAPTER 30

ABBY HEARD THE ROAR of gunfire and dropped to her knees. “No!”
This can't be happening—they can't be dead!

Through her tears she saw Krodin approach. He crouched down in front of her. “If it's any consolation, you won't have to grieve for much longer. You and the rest of your friends will die too.”

She lashed out, struck him across the face with her closed fist. “You're insane! You're a
monster
!”

“Abigail, what you consider to be a monster others will, in time, see as—”

“Shut
up
, you psychopathic, heartless…
boring
man!”

Krodin sat back, clearly surprised. “Boring?”

Abby jumped to her feet. “Yes! ‘In the end, it's all for the greater good,' blah blah blah! With your gifts you could be the greatest hero ever. You think you were put on this Earth to rule. Well, I don't know if there
is
a reason for someone like you to be here, but if there is, you've got it wrong.”

Still sitting on the ground, Krodin shook his head. “Abigail, you just cannot understand—”


You
don't understand. You're not here to rule the human race—you're here to
lead
it.”

He looked away from her.

“If you're going to kill me, do it now. But don't put me through any more of your lectures.”

Slowly, not looking her in the eye, Krodin stood up. “Somebody…Fire up the teleporter. Bring—”

Max Dalton's voice boomed out over the base's PA system: “Chancellor…we, uh, we have a problem.”

 

Using only his hands James hauled himself through the foul-smelling, stagnant water, his limbs heavy with cloying mud. The wound in his forehead had reopened, and he had to fight against the automatic urge to wipe the blood from his eyes.
Hate to think what sort of bacteria live in this swamp.

After Brawn had thrown him, he'd arced through the air, cleared the lake, and crashed through the trees. His right leg had collided with a thick branch and there had been a horrifying
snap
—but whether it was from the branch or his leg he couldn't tell. Either way, his leg had been in agony since he splashed down in the middle of the swamp.

He grabbed on to a clump of weeds and hauled himself another few inches. The water seemed a little shallower now, so he turned onto his side. Blinding pain flared through his leg once more, and he had to bite his hand to stifle his screams.

He almost didn't dare look, but knew that he had to. And when he did, his fear of infecting the wound on his forehead seemed almost laughable: His right tibia had broken, the jagged end of its lower half protruding through his mud-encrusted skin.

How far did he throw me?

James tried to focus his enhanced hearing, but still there was nothing.

Not far enough. Yet.

Doing his best to ignore the pain, James crawled on.

 

Krodin dragged Abby with him out to the landing pad, where Brawn's enormous body lay prone and unmoving. His deep blue skin was barely visible beneath the blood.

“So what's the problem?” Krodin asked.

Max said, “He's not dead. I know it looks bad, but the bullets penetrated only about a half inch. He passed out just after we ran out of ammunition.”

“You want me to finish him off, is that it?”

“No, we can do it. It's just going to take longer than we expected. The real problem is—”

Krodin interrupted. “Klaus. Where is he?”

“Brawn threw him, just as the men opened fire. Out over the lake.”

“So
he's
not dead either.”

“We don't know. Without his powers there's no guarantee he'd survive the fall. We could use the teleporter to bring—”

Krodin locked his hand around Max's neck and lifted him off his feet, shook him violently. “I want him found! Send your men out to scour the area. And you won't use the teleporter because I don't want all of him brought back. Only his head, understood?” He threw Max to the ground. “You useless,
pathetic
little man! Your men will come back with James Klaus's severed head or I will tear off your arms and legs and feed them to the alligators!”

He grabbed Abby's arm again and steered her back toward the doors. As she passed Max, she stamped down as hard as she could on his left hand. She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt the bones crunch beneath her heel.

Krodin saw this and said, “Everybody hates Max today, huh?”

“Not as much as they hate you.”

“This isn't a popularity contest, Abigail.”

“Yeah, losers always say stuff like that.”

Holding on to her arm so tightly that her fingers were growing numb, Krodin dragged her along the corridors and into a large, dark, screen-filled control room.

“The others?”

One of the technicians looked up and nodded. “They're coming. They're—”

“You know what to do.”

 

On board the Raptor, Roz looked around at the others. They were all staring at Brandon Santamaría, who had returned his attention to the craft's controls.

What do we do?
she asked herself.
If he
is
Daedalus, then…

It was Lance who asked the question. “What powers do you have?”

Brandon answered, “Somewhat enhanced strength and speed, greatly enhanced intelligence.”

“That's all? You can't fly or shoot lasers from your eyes or anything like that?”

Suzanne said, “All those reports about the things you did…Destroying Krodin's supply lines, picking off his patrols, killing his resident genius Casey…Being smart is all well and good, but how'd you do all that if you don't have any powers?”

Brandon smiled. “Smart? You have no
idea
how smart I am. There's not a machine or a computer in the world that I can't master.” He tapped the screen in front of him. “You see this?”

Roz peered past Lance and looked at the screen. “We're being followed!”

“Relax. It's not the Praetorians,” Brandon said. “It's me. Or, rather, my battle suit. You thought Paragon's armor was powerful? Compared with mine, his suit might as well be a set of pajamas. So. Here's the plan, Roz. You, me, and Suzanne are going in. Our first priority—our
only
priority—is to destroy Krodin's teleporter. The forces of Unity are already in the Gulf, and they'll be here within hours. Once the teleporter is gone, we get out of there.”

“What about our friends? And Max?”

“You can try to get them out if you can, but only
after
we destroy the teleporter.”

Roz felt Joshua's hand slip into hers. “But Max—”

“Max is a liability,” Brandon said. “He thinks his powers make him special, but he's little more than a conduit for other people's feelings and opinions.” He hesitated for a moment. “I should warn you now that if Max gets in the way—or even just slows me down—I will kill him.”

Cord said, “No. We're doing this without you. You've already murdered hundreds of Krodin's people.”

Brandon pushed himself back from the Raptor's controls and stood up, turned to face Cord. “You don't understand. You're new here. But Suzanne understands. Ever since Krodin came to power, this country has been under martial law. There's not one American who hasn't felt Krodin's noose tightening around his neck. Krodin's invulnerable and immortal—we can't kill him. But we're going to keep destroying his resources, slowing him down whenever we can.”

Roz said, “What's that going to achieve? If you know you can't win, then…”

Beside her, Joshua said, “Because it's war. That's what you're talking about, isn't it, Brandon? I thought you were my friend!”

Brandon raised his eyes. “You thought Krodin was your friend too, Josh. So what do you know?” He turned to Suzanne. “You with me?”

“All the way.”

“And you, Roz? Are you willing to do what's necessary?”

Roz looked at Lance and Cord, then back to Brandon. “There has to be another way.”

“Oh, there are lots of other ways. But none of them are effective. The biggest threat to world security right now is that teleporter. We have to destroy it before Unity swarms in. Krodin doesn't have the facility to create another teleporter. It'll set his plans back
years.

“Years don't mean anything to Krodin,” Lance said. “He's immortal.”

Brandon ignored him. “In my battle suit I can carry you down to the base,” he said to Roz. “Your telekinesis is considerably more powerful than your counterpart's was. You can manipulate objects with pinpoint accuracy, right?”

“Sometimes, but…”

“In many ways your telekinesis works like a remote force field. You can create it anywhere you like.” He tapped a forefinger against his temple. “Inside someone's brain, for example. You can block an artery, sever the optic nerves, or—if you don't think you can be quite so accurate—you just expand the force field until it turns your target's brain to paste.”

“I'm not a killer!”

“Then start learning.” Brandon glanced back at the Raptor's screens. “They're on full alert at the base.” He rapidly typed a series of commands into the keyboard. “Hmm. I can guess what they're planning. We don't have a lot of time. I'm calling in the battle suit. Cord, get into the jetpack. You take Lance and Josh and you get out of here as fast as you can. And I'll take Roz. We go in hard and fast, people.”

“I'm not going with you!” Roz said.

“It's your only chance to save your other friends,” Suzanne said.

Cord was already strapping on the stolen jetpack. “Lance, Josh…Grab hold of me and don't let go. I'll need my right hand free to control this thing.”

He moved toward the hatch, but Roz stepped into his way. “Mr. Cord, please…”

“We don't have any choice right now, Roz. I'll set the boys down and then I'll come for you.”

Roz grabbed her brother, hugged him close, kissed the top of his head. “Lance, you watch out for him. You keep him safe.”

Lance nodded. “I will.”

At the controls Brandon was furiously typing at the keyboard. “I'm putting the Raptor on remote. The Praetorians can usually override any commands, but not this one. I've reprogrammed the computer. From now on it'll go only where I tell it to go.”

“So it's a decoy?” Roz asked.

“Something like that.”

The Raptor was blasted with cold air as the hatch opened and Cord stepped right to the edge. “Boys?”

Lance said, “Roz, I'm thinking I should stick with you. Mr. Cord can take care of Josh—and he won't have to worry about me too.”

Roz shook her head.

Lance pointed at Cord. “Come on! You know what this guy is like! He'll set me and Josh down and fly into the battle and probably get killed.” To Cord, he added, “You don't have any armor, remember? You're not bulletproof anymore. If I'm not there to look after Josh, then you'll
have
to stick with him. So I'll go with Roz. I can be useful.”

Cord said, “No way, Lance. You're coming with me.”

“Well, since you put it like
that
. No.”

Keeping his voice low, Cord said, “In this reality your family is still alive. That's as close to a miracle as any of us are ever likely to experience. Lance, this is a suicide mission. You know that. The best we can hope for is to destroy Krodin's teleporter—without this reality's version of me they won't be able to create another one. But whatever happens, the odds of us getting out alive are tiny. There's no need for you to die too. And Joshua is going to need someone to take care of him.”

“I can help.”

“How?”

“Back in Windfield, I—”

“This isn't the same.” Cord put his hand on Lance's shoulder. “I told you before that you're the bravest person I've ever met. That's still true. The world needs people like you, but you're not going to be able to achieve much if you're dead.”

Lance looked up at Cord. “All right.”

Cord nodded, then moved back toward the hatch. “Josh?”

The boy shook his head. “No.”

Brandon shouted, “We don't have time for this—they'll be locking on to us right now! Cord, get out and take the kids with you!”

Roz said, “It's going to be OK, Josh.”

“No it's not. You all think you're going to die, don't you?”

Lance said, “They just don't want us getting in the way. We'd get captured or something and then they'd have to come and rescue us.”

“You're just saying that! Roz!”

“He's right. Getting captured is Lance's specialty.”

Lance sneered. “Hey!”

“It's true. He gets captured—” Roz stopped, and looked around.

They were no longer inside the Raptor. Instead they were in the center of a large, brightly lit empty room. To one side stood a group of people, her brother Max among them.

“—all the time,” Roz finished.

A tall, muscular man stepped forward from the group, and Roz felt a knot twist in her stomach as she recognized his face.

“A good observation, Ms. Dalton,” the man said, walking toward them. “For those who have never met me in person, I am Chancellor Krodin. I'll be your executioner today. Anyone who tries to run will be shot down. In this room none of you have superhuman abilities.”

Krodin stepped up behind Solomon Cord, placed his hands on either side of the jetpack, and crushed it.

Krodin turned in a slow circle, his arms spread to take in the whole room. “This is our primary storeroom. We had to move everything out first, so my men are a little cranky: Those boxes of ammunition are very heavy. We're right in the heart of my base here in Louisiana, and there is only one door in or out. The walls are reinforced concrete, almost a meter thick. That's about three feet for those of you who never got the hang of the metric system. Get used to this place, because this is where you'll be spending the rest of your lives.” He stopped turning and grinned at them. “Which will be about twenty minutes. Maybe thirty if I feel in the mood.”

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