Read The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable Online

Authors: J.B. Garner

Tags: #Superhero | Paranormal | Urban Fantasy

The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable (17 page)

Here was my one chance.  I brought my other hand around towards Reaper’s neck, the hypo tucked as deep in my hand as I could manage, swiftly, but not so hard as to force feedback that would break my fingers or render the hypo inoperable.  I felt my knuckles start to slowly part through the mockery of reality and close towards Gerald’s carotid artery.  I was focused so hard on my target that I didn’t see that the monster wasn’t finished yet. The only warning I had was the sudden panic in Gerald’s eyes.

I tried to pull back as swift as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough.  Rock and stone from the earth below us had erupted up, conjured forth by the seemingly endless variety of powers Reaper possessed, catching my hand as I pulled away.  The violent impact of real stone and all too human flesh and blood broke several bones in my hand and sprained my wrist instantly.  The vital hypodermic was thrown from my now useless grasp and flew through the air.  My seemingly endless immunity to pain was tested and even through the mental blocks I could feel a burning tingle race up my arm as I staggered back.

“I know all about your kind's tricks, girl.”

All of the ground around and underneath me began to rumble as glowing red tendrils seeped out of the villain’s feet and into the earth.  I forced myself to run, still vainly tracking the needle’s flight through the air, as first clods of sod then larger and larger chunks of earth started to hurtle skyward.  That last shard of hope start to arc back to the earth as I managed to side step a boulder erupting from deep in the ground.

I clutched my useless hand to my chest and set my mind to calculating just the right time to jump for it.  I ducked a flying chunk of debris, serenaded by Reaper’s constant maniacal laughter, and then sprang up.  I was glad someone was having fun at least.  My leap was perfect and I stretched my arm out to make the catch.

The problem with my jump was that, once I left the ground, my trajectory was set.  Even if I had noticed the sudden man-sized chunk of earth shoot up from the ground, I could have done nothing about it.  To the godlike reflexes of Reaper, it must have been like shooting a duck in a barrel.

I was flattened against the grass and earth as it slammed into me, driving the air out of my lungs.  I tried to push myself up, but with only one good arm, I made little progress.  I saw the Apache helicopters to my side, opening fire on the National Mall, and then they were zooming away.  The air was growing dangerously thin when the ground beneath me blew apart into chunks of dirt.  For a brief moment, I was suspended in free fall, then gravity’s mercilessly pull began.  Staring down as Washington began to zoom back towards me, I was honestly surprised.  I hadn’t thought I would die like this.

 

Even though my impending demise was assured, I still instinctively fought against it.  I forced myself to mimic the spread arms and legs of a skydiver, just to buy a few more moments of life.  After all, maybe if I slowed myself enough, I could be one of those lucky people who survived falls from near-orbit and lived.  I could honestly tell myself that stranger things had happened.

As Washington came closer and closer, the only real wish I had was that someone would get that syringe and manage to jam it down Reaper’s throat and into Schuller.  I had closed my eyes and was saying one last prayer when I swore I heard someone shouting my name, drowned out by the rushing wind.  I put the thought out of my head as an auditory hallucination until, a split-second later, my fall hit a violent snag, then a sharp reduction in speed.

The jarring impact shuddered through my body as the sudden stop cracked two ribs, broke my tail bone, and gave me a near-concussion.  I almost blacked out, but the seemingly endless flow of adrenaline and endorphins my heightened state produced kept me conscious.

“Irene, are you alive?”  Eric shouted above the wind.  “Please, please be alive.”  I cracked open my eyes, cradled in Epic’s arms, sunk in through the unreal flesh to Eric’s actual arms.  “I am going to rip him apart for hurting you, for killing my parents, for all of this, I swear it!”

I reached up with my good hand and grabbed his shoulder as we now seemed to be spiraling back down to the battlefield.

“No, you won’t, by God.”  My voice had a grit to it I didn’t know I could muster.  “If you kill him, any hope you had of making this work is going to fail.  His blood on your hands in front of the entire goddamn world.“  I pointed down.  “I can stop him, but you have to keep your head on straight.  If you don’t, I swear you’re next!”  Even in my sorry state, I could see Eric flinch under his god’s disguise from the iron in my voice.

As we rapidly descended, Reaper, along with his unwilling internal hostage, had finished ripping apart a military chopper, tearing its rotors apart to use as projectile weapons against another.  I could tell he was just playing now, unconcerned as to any real resistance.  I could imagine in my mind’s eye that the President must be about ready to order a nuke with Reaper’s name on it.  Reaper’s eyes perked as he undoubtedly sensed the pulse heralding Epic’s return.

“You have got to keep him busy and give us a chance to get in on him, give him his drugs, and shut him off.“

I realized that plan was assuming my friends were still alive.  I looked down from Eric’s grip and saw, thank God, all of the Atlanta Five on their feet, worse for the wear, but still going.  My friends had regrouped and seemed to be moving towards Reaper already.

“Alright.  You have one shot at this.  If he dares hurt you again, though, I will flay him atom by atom," Eric relented.

I nodded.  That would have to do.  At my direction, Epic did a broad, low swoop and dropped me right next to my friends.  Medusa, nursing a seeping laceration in her shoulder, looked at me and gaped.  I must have looked horrible, now that I thought about it.  Extinguisher was about to speak, but I raised my unbroken hand to stop him.

“No time,” I said.  “The syringe is somewhere nearby, hopefully intact.”  I found myself wobbling and Tank roared up, letting me lean on him.  “Tank, you’re fast.  We’ll find it.  You guys … You have to keep him busy.  Don’t die.”  I felt that same guilt claw at my heart as I crawled onto Tank’s treaded body.  I forced myself to stare away from their collective gaze.  “I’m sorry.  If you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand.  I’m not looking forward to dying either.”

“Shucks,” Hexagon guffawed.  “How I see it, three days ago, the best thing I was lookin’ forward to as an achievement was being salesman of the month two months straight.  Today, well, I might die, but I did it savin’ the world.”  He shrugged all six arms.  Mind’s Eye was about to speak when there was a tremendous peal of thunder as Reaper and Epic crashed into each other with earth-splitting punches.

There wasn’t any time left for speeches.  When this had first begun, I had only seen the Pushed as a horrible by-product of this horrible new reality.  Now, they were my friends who had been willing to stand by me and follow my lead in the face of certain death.  So, yes, I was guilty.  I was ashamed.  I looked at my friends with sadness in my eyes, then grit my teeth.  Forcing my guilt and sentimentality into the same little boxes my pain and fear lived in, I slapped Tank on the shoulder.

“Let’s go get him!”  Grass, dirt, and rocks spewed behind us as I held on for dear life with my one good arm.

 

I could tell as the six of us closed in that Eric seemed to be going with the game plan so far, keeping Reaper engaged, but in a more hit-and-run fashion and using less raw power than before.  I still didn’t even know what trick Reaper had used on him moments ago, but whatever it was, he didn’t seem apt to repeat it immediately.  The landscape had been so battered by the raging conflict that I could only vaguely direct Tank’s course.  The others moved to directly confront the villain.

Epic strafed by his opposite number, lashing out with tendrils of white light, which brought equal retaliation.  No harm was done to either combatant, but it distracted Reaper, letting Extinguisher get close enough to let loose with his own powers.  The fire fighter raised his hands, radiating blue ripples of pure cold.  The air around Reaper instantly crystallized into a block of solid ice.  Then, Medusa unleashed her strange gaze, turning the ice into a tomb of chilled stone.

The teamwork was impressive, but it only held back the raging demigod for a few moments.  Red sparks ran up and down the stone and it split asunder with explosive force, flinging both of the heroes off of their feet.  Hexagon managed to catch both of them, setting them safely to the earth, as I thought I caught a glint of shining glass near the heart of the battle.  I yelled and pointed over Tank’s shoulder and the hyperactive youth roared at top speed, following my direction.

I leaned off of the side of Tank’s chassis, latched on with my good hand.  The prospect of making the snatch with a broken hand was not a good one, but what choice did I have?  Besides, my fingers weren’t broken yet.

As we made our approach on the syringe, a series of pure white flashes went off like strobes to my side as Eric teleported in a series of heavy blocks of debris and wreckage, cycling through them as Reaper smashed aside each new barrier.  Using that amazing intellect of his, he was steering the rampaging monster towards Hexagon.  Stretching out even further, I reached out to make the snatch.

Reaper shattered the last barrier in his way into fragments of metal and fiberglass, only to reveal my favorite six-armed powerhouse.  Hexagon unleashed a tight series of three punches from his right side, firing like pistons with inhuman force, which seemed to have minimal real effect on the demigod, but it threw him off balance.  Seizing the moment, Hex snatched Reaper with his other three hands and plowed him violently into the ground.  There was a concussion of dirt and stone as the villain was cratered five feet deep.

Uninjured but annoyed, Reaper started to right himself only to be met by the full payload of missiles and rockets from a downed Apache helicopter, telekinetically manipulated by Mind’s Eye.  The rapid series of explosions blew Hexagon back, dazed but unharmed.  As for Reaper, his fate was obscured by a cloud of debris and dust.

I managed to snatch the syringe with the tip of my fingers, tears bleeding out of the corners of my eyes as my pain threshold stared to wear down and my thoughts slowed down to normal.  The hunger was starting to emerge, which I could only guess was a sign that I was at the limit of what my body could sustain at its full unlocked potential.  Tank glanced over his shoulder at me, I must have been vocalizing my pain, and started to slow.  Biting my lip, I willed myself to keep going.  Despite the gnawing in my stomach and a growing ache in my skull, the rest of the pain receded and my mind sped back up.

“Go!  I’ve got it.”  I grinned madly at the teenager.  “Ready to save the world?”  He grinned back.  He may have been young, but I think at that moment he grew up in a second, fully aware of what sacrifice we might be making.  He turned ahead and poured on the speed, erecting his force barrier as we hit the cloud of settling debris.

 

We hit him dead on.  The barrage of mundane armaments hadn’t even annoyed Reaper; when Tank plowed into him, I was certain the monster was giggling like a madman.  The shield shattered apart, but absorbed the initial impact.  The Human Tank roared on, smashing dead center on the now-startled Reaper.  Though nigh-invulnerable, he hadn’t braced for the dual impact and it flung him back, tumbling end over end.

As for Tank, the violent collision caused his body to whiplash violently on his cybernetic chassis.  For all I could tell, Tank was dead as I vaulted off of his back.  I hit the ground in front of the prone demigod roughly and tucked into a roll, aggravating my injuries without a care, winding up on my feet.  Reaper still seemed disoriented from the crash; I leaped forward to take advantage.

My hand passed through Reaper’s skin and the hypo pressed against the grateful, sad face of Gerald Schuller.  A hand gripped around my neck at the same time.  It was Schuller’s own hand, manipulated like a puppet by the phantom beast around him.  For just a moment, we stared at each other, eye to eye, a strange moment of connection.   Neither of us was going to back off, so we both pressed on.  Reaper-through-Schuller squeezed and I pressed the inject button.

Chapter 19 Division

Everything was turning gray as Reaper-as-Schuller choked the life out of me.  Tears streamed down Gerald’s face and I swear he was trying to scream something.  Although the madman’s outer skin passed through me, he still seemed to have total control of Gerald’s body.  Though Schuller was considerably weaker, all of my injuries made fighting back almost impossible.  It took all of my willpower just to not let go of the hypodermic with my broken hand and keep that button depressed.  Injecting him in the head, despite what a layman might think, was far from ideal, but it was better than nothing.

“I won’t go back in there,” Reaper slurred.  He sounded tired, sleepy.  “Not before I kill you, at least.”

I was acutely aware of the thumb in my trachea as he forced the hapless Schuller to squeeze harder.  I could only imagine the confusion on my friends’ faces.  To them it had to look like he was killing me with his forearm while my hand was fused with his face.  Through the hazy fog in my head, I swore I could hear people shouting my name.  Hexagon grabbed Reaper from behind, but couldn’t get him loose from me.  After what seemed like an eternity, the hypo’s button clicked.  The dose was in.

Reaper rose up on increasingly unsteady feet, throwing off Hexagon and sweeping aside Extinguisher and Medusa with his free arm.  My feet were dangling for a moment, then I lost sensation in them.  There was also a grinding sound in my head; something in my neck was about to give way in a permanent fashion.

The murderer seemed to want to make sure I was gone; he reared back a massive fist, sluggishly aiming at my skull.  I forced myself to give him a crooked, bloody smile.  If I was going to die, I wanted him to know I was happy to have stopped him.  Though weakened and fading, Reaper’s blow would still crush my skull, undoubtedly breaking every bone in Schuller’s arm in the bargain.

That blow didn’t land.  A white blur flashed before my eyes and Eric was there, interposing himself at the last moment.  There was one last shockwave as inhuman power met invulnerable skin and then it was over.   Suddenly, I found myself falling to the ground as Reaper’s grip went loose.  My legs were too weak to catch me and I tumbled down onto my knees.  Wheezing and gasping, all I could do was sit there and try to keep breathing.

 

I had planned to stay that way, at least until I could heroically collapse into the arms of some kind of expert medical care.  Unfortunately, as with all of my recent plans, that was not to be.  For a few moments, at least, nothing disturbed my labored attempt to stay conscious.  There was a cluster of white flashes all around me and, even in my agony, I could tell that some of the combatants were disappearing.  In fact, a good half of them winked away.  I wouldn’t have even noticed it if the gray in my vision hadn’t started to fade.  Sweet, sweet oxygen was starting to sing in my brain.

After that, there were a few more moments of eerie silence.  Though I didn’t know it at the time, it had been all of the Pushcrooks that had been teleported away, those still alive anyway, and without an enemy, the Push heroes ceased to battle.  Even the military and police seemed to be startled into holding fire.  Unfortunately, something happened that forced me to pay attention.

“No way, sir,” Extinguisher said.  “He’s helpless now; there’s no call for it.”

“Right, he’sss beat,” Medusa added with a hiss.  “Bessidesss, he wassn’t in control of hisss actionss.  He needsss help not a beatdown.”

“Are you all mad?” Eric boomed, his real voice hard with fury.  “He hurt Irene; he’s killed hundreds if not thousands.  Not just our own, but the unpowered as well.  He’s a monster and deserves to die.”

I forced my head up as I tried to find the strength to stand, despite every desire to stay down.  Epic was floating away from me, towards what I assumed a now-normal Gerald Schuller was cowering.  Right beyond him, the two Push heroes had their arms raised as they tried to talk reason with the angered godling.  Mind’s Eye and Hexagon were trying to do what they could for Tank, who still was unconscious.  At least I hoped he was only unconscious, I still couldn't be sure.  Prying my eyes away from the fallen teen, I tried to shout to get Eric’s attention, but all I could manage was a hoarse croak, more dying frog than woman.

“This isn’t the right way, Epic!”  The firefighter had steel in his voice now as his form started to ripple with waves of cold.  “We’re heroes, goddamit.  We try to obey the law.  He’s down, we turn him in, and the courts decide his fate.”  Medusa’s snake heads hissed as if in agreement.  “The fight’s over, we won.  Let all those people with their fingers on the button see that we’re gonna play by the rules; let them know that they can trust us.”

“I am truly sorry, my son, my daughter,” Epic replied, taking on the persona of a god once more, “but have you not listened?  Until we have fixed the system, we cannot trust it.  Not with something so deadly that can so easily be unleashed.”  Curling white streamers of energy began to float off of Epic’s form as he drifted closer and closer to the two of them.  “I will ask you one last time, move aside and let judgment be cast down.”

“Ssstuff it up your ass, brujo,” Medusa hissed.  “Ssstand down or I’ll turn you into ssstatuary.”

Eric seemed taken aback by the threat, but Epic showed no fear.  There was a dismissive shake of the head and he flung his arms out, tendrils of pure white force flinging both of my friends away like gnats.  Forcing my legs to move, I ran, one step after another.  I felt so slow, so sluggish right now.  The taste of copper in my mouth was not reassuring either, but I wasn’t going to let Eric have his kill.

 

I could hear Gerald’s quiet whimper as Epic raised a hand, crackling like Zeus’ thunderbolt as unnatural power gathered into it.  Epic didn’t hear me approach, so intent was he on getting revenge on the bad man that took Mommy and Daddy away.  Even as slow as I felt, I was still fast enough to sprint past Eric on the right and get in the way just as he let loose with that crackling ball of unreality.

Sparking and sputtering, it struck me dead in the chest, my strange immunity fighting against the concentrated ball of the new reality.  Sparks raced through me, sending violent shudders through my traumatized body.  I fell to one knee but somehow, I don’t know how, I found it in me to fall no further.  After a moment, the energy dissipated, its charge spent.

“No.”  My voice was low and hoarse, but I managed to speak.  “You gave me your word.”  I smelled the distinct smell of charred leather and burnt hair as wisps of smoke came off of me.  “You wouldn’t harm him.”

“How can you defend that monster after what he did?  How many more people have to die because of men like him?”  Eric pointed a finger at me.  “Will you take his blood on your hands as well?”

I can only think it was stubborn pride that forced me to rise back up onto both feet.  It certainly wasn’t intelligence.

“Who elected you?”  I asked.  “What test did you pass to qualify you to judge the law?  Who gave you the authority to enforce it?  You’re not a god; you’re a man.  A very, very powerful man, but a man like everyone else.  You don’t have special rights or privileges.”

“I will not have this petty debate with you right now!”  Epic floated towards me.  We were practically nose-to-nose, though he seemed to levitate just a little higher, forcing me to look up to him.  “Move aside or I will move you myself.  It is not like you could stop me in the state you are in.”

“Maybe she can’t, but what about us?” came a voice from my right.  It was Burnt Rubber, his engines revving and wheels kicking up turf.  He wasn’t alone.

What neither of us had noticed, wrapped up in our personal argument, was that from the moment the battle had ended, all of the Push heroes still alive and conscious had begun to gather to this one barren spot in the ruins of the National Mall.  Was it something in the Whiteout’s mental influence that drew them to this point of contention?  Was it simply the natural instinct of people to be attracted to the sound of voices?

I didn’t know, but it seemed now that a new line was being drawn in the proverbial sand.  Just as we had begun to debate at the rally, that same debate continued now, but with a man’s life in the balance.

I found myself not alone, but flanked by many of the Push heroes, maybe as many as half.  All of my friends in the Atlanta Five stood with me, including, much to my relief, the Human Tank, who was pale and drawn from his injuries.  His treads, however, were still rolling as the teen cyborg came to my left side.  He gave me a weak nod, but his expression was firm.

Epic, to be fair, had a considerable line of supporters as well.  Men and women wielding vast and dangerous powers were once again staring at each other warily.  This was all on the verge of erupting once more.

I tried to shout something, but it came out as a hoarse mumble.  A second later, I redoubled my efforts and managed to make my voice heard.

“Please!  We’re at a tipping point, people.”  I was surprised my voice was carrying so loud, until I realized that Tank was amplifying my voice through an internal speaker system.  “We can start fighting again, sure.  By God, though, if we do, they’ll finish it.”  I pointed towards the Capitol building.  From there, I could see where an errant blast or thrown debris had sheared off the famous Statue of Freedom from the top of the dome.  “We may not all die, but any dream any of us have of doing right by the people of the world will.  We’ll be mistrusted, hunted, and studied.  Maybe even killed off one by one.”

“If we do not act, though,” Epic retorted, “then the deadliest Pushcrook in creation will be free to one day return.  We do not even know how many people are already dead because of him.  How many more can we let die because we failed to act?”

We glared at each other, eyes locked, as talk rippled up and down the line.  Few changed their minds but, maybe it was my head trauma deceiving me, several more drifted across to my side, compared to Epic’s.

“Epic,” I said, “I have no doubt that if you wanted to, you could kill this man.”  I gestured to Gerald, who was almost fetal behind me in fear.  “I couldn’t stop you right now.  The only thing stopping you is one last shred of decency.  The last shred of the man I loved.”  I searched for that man in Epic’s eyes.  “This last time, do the right thing.  If not for yourself, if not for me, do it for all these people who will die if you don’t.”

Epic stared hard at me, as if looking at me for the first time.  His eyes then ran down the line of heroes facing off, then his gaze seemed to wander further.  Was he looking at the police gathering into riot lines at the edge of the Mall?  Was he looking into the houses of government beyond that, divining the intentions of the leaders of the nation?  Could he see into the Oval Office or whatever hidey-hole the President was in, so close to issuing that final deadly order?  Were his eyes reaching out even further, to all those millions watching and judging around the world?  I didn’t know and I didn’t ask.  Eventually, those eyes returned to me.

“This last time.”  Epic looked stern, but Eric’s expression was downcast.  “I just hope you live to regret this mistake, Indomitable.”  He rose up into the air, turning towards those who had stood by him, letting his voice amplify into the roaring words of a god.  “We will give the government a chance to show that they have been watching.  A chance to let justice be served.”  The demigod swiveled in the air, looking at something distant that I couldn’t perceive with my mortal eyes.  “You, out there watching, take stock of what passes today and know that, if you choose poorly, my Crusaders will put an end to your corruption and lies.”

With that ultimatum, he rocketed off into the sky.  Responding to the call of the pack, those that could fly or propel themselves fell into formation behind Epic.  Those that couldn’t were lifted in spheres of white light and were pulled along in his glowing wake.

Spontaneously, all around me, the Pushed who had defied their would-be god erupted into cheers.  I gazed for a moment at the glowing comets passing into the dull glow of the afternoon sun.  Though neither of us had said it, I knew that, finally, in every way, our relationship was over.  My last bits of love for the man that was Eric Flynn were gone.

I thought it would make me happy, but in the end, it was just an event that had come to pass.  Maybe it was because our relationship was never entirely real.  Oh, yes, the emotions I felt were real.  The love, the passion, the arguments, all of it.  The man, though, he was a lie.  That lie was now cast away, leaving only Epic behind.

 

The copper taste in my mouth was only growing.  I wiped my mouth and wasn't surprised to find it come away bloody.  The only comfort I had was that I just needed to be awake for a little longer.

As my friends and new-found allies found their cheers replaced by a growing realization of the destruction all around them, I turned to Gerald Schuller, who now was standing behind us, still trembling in fear.  He was a balding older man, with watery gray eyes.  Every twitch told the tale of a man afraid of his own shadow.

“Thank you,” he said as I looked at him.  “For saving my life, from both of them.”  Gerald cast a glance skyward as he hesitantly moved closer to me.  “You need a doctor.”  I waved him off, even if he was absolutely correct.

“Later,” I gave him a bloody smile that was probably more frightening than reassuring.  “Before I get drug away, I have to know … how did this happen?”  I closed my eyes a moment to force my concentration to hold.  “How did you, did he, know about me?”

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