The Push Chronicles (Book 3): Incorruptible (14 page)

Chapter 16 Daring

"We must go to their aid," Frost shouted above the wind.

"What in Sam's Hill are you talking about?" Twister said with Polymer bouncing around in his cyclone.  Apparently however his powers worked, the tornado sweeping around him didn't mess with his hearing.  His question was answered with a glance from Mind's Eye.

"No, that is not the plan.  I have informed our other allies here of what is transpiring and I must insist if we are to have any chance of success, we must stay the course."  As much as I didn't want anyone rooting around inside my brain, I always felt like the odd one out in these mental conferences.

"I hate to say it...damn me to Hell for it...but Eye is right," I shouted, shooting a glance back the way we came.  I swear I could already start to see the horde of Battalion's troops coming out from the shadow of the warehouses we had left them among.  "It's the meeting spot or bust!"

The dragonwoman snarled, an animalistic sound that set my teeth on edge.  Regardless, she banked and gave a hard flap of her silver wings in the right direction. 
Mind's Eye focused her incalculable mental prowess to fall into Frost's wake and my sewer-lid transport followed, picking up speed.
  It was now truly a race.  If we couldn't get off the grid and under cover before they found us again, there was no way we could pull off another escape like that.  Not alone.

Down we dove, forcing me to hold on with all my strength, into the concrete canyons of the heart of Atlanta.  Once more, Twister's winds kicked up a smokescreen of dust and street debris, sending what few pedestrians that were milling about the early evening streets scuttling for cover.  The lack of an immediate visual was in our favor but no doubt the Crusaders had eyes everywhere of one kind or another.  Still, there was a shot at winning this.  We only had two blocks to go and then it was down and, hopefully, safety.

It had made perfect sense when Duane had proposed it.  There was, after all, a ready-made base down there in the city sewers.  Once used by Ian Mackenzie and his Humans for God terrorists, its previous occupants were all dead and no one outside of our team and a few members of the Atlanta police's PART team had the slightest inkling of its location, yet alone its existence.

True, with their stint in those mind-warping helmets, there was no guarantee the topic of that sanctuary hadn't come up but it seemed unlikely.  Meds and Eye certainly didn't remember being forced to talk about it.  It didn't matter anyway; it was there or nothing.

As we shot around the last corner, I could hear the whine of engines behind us, gaining.  Maybe a few of their fastest fliers were coming close but it still looked like we would make it.  Well, that is until four more of those armored cars tore down one of the side streets ahead and skidded to a halt, practically on top of our destination.

"How the hell -" I started to complain, then shook my head.  "Who cares?  We punch through, lose them in the tunnels."  I hoped I sounded brave for the others, especially Polymer, but I had a pretty good idea we were screwed.

"I will dispatch the right most car," Frost said and angled her draconic frame into a tight arrow, accelerating her dive.  Twister just pointed to the left and swept that direction and up as the Mighty Polymer folded herself into an improbably spherical shape, growing in mass.  Tearing my eyes away from the shrieking unreality of it, I grit my teeth.

"Throw me parallel to the ground when we get close, Mind!"  The cars were disgorging more Battalions.  "I'll keep the copies busy; you get car duty."  I made sure my grip was tight.  Not only was this sewer lid my transport, it would need to be my weapon.  My 'ride' was mere inches from the roadway when its trajectory flattened to be perfectly straight and then lurched forward, propelled by sheer mental force.

Mere feet before I plowed right into the chest of a Battalion copy, I yanked up with my arms and shoved with my legs, fighting the forces of momentum to change the angle of the lid itself.  It was insane but I somehow managed to shift the impact from edge-on to striking the poor unreal bastard with the flat of the lid.  First I hit him, then he hit one of the armored cars.  If it had been a real person...

Thankfully, instead of the meaty squish of a body under the metal rim, there was only a strange flare of light as the copy absorbed the majority of the impact from the blow.  Even so, as I fell to the ground, still clutching the sewer lid, I could feel the aches and pains of the jarring landing shudder through my bones.  I bit it down and scurried to my feet.

The others had timed their runs to match mine.  Leading with a blast of icy dragon's breath and culminating in the impact of draconic claws and muscle to steel, Frost had already torn through from one side of an armored car to the other.  Twister dealt with his situation by flinging a large, round bomb of a rubber teenager straight down, flattening the offending vehicle.

Of course, there were two cars and more Battalions than I could count still in our way.  As I came to my feet, I swung the sewer lid in a wide arc, muscles screaming from the exertion, flattening the two closest to me.  I may have had nothing to fear from them, but they still presented a delay from getting down below ground and every second was precious.

The sound of locked wheels screeching on asphalt echoed behind me as Mind's Eye shoved the other transports aside while I busied myself slamming my crude weapon upside the head of another clone.  I assumed the other Battalions were shocked when their weapons, as unreal as they were, had no effect when they opened up full auto on me but there was no time to appreciate their confusion.  Beside me, there was a cry to take cover as the amorphous blob of Polymer reformed into a rubbery humanoid shape and flung the remains of the flattened vehicle end-over-end with the same ease I could roll a bowling ball.  To the right, there came more sounds of rending steel and concentrated weapons fire.  It looked like we were going to pull this out of the fire after all.

Hovering above us, Twister widened his personal tornado like a ring, swirling from a concentrated storm to a huge protective circle.  The cars swept aside, Mind's Eye shot past me over head as I exchanged the weighty sewer lid, depositing it straight in the gut of a clone, with a nice piece of metal tubing blown free from one of the smashed cars.  There was the distinct sound of scraping metal and I swore I could already smell the faint dankness of the sewer behind me.

"Go on!" I shouted as loud as I could manage.  "I can hold them for a few moments."

"Indy's right, move it on out now, kid!"

I was too busy with my own end of the affair to make sure Polymer followed the lawman's directions but I assumed the lack of flying cars meant she had.  One last cone of sub-zero temperatures blasted out, clearing away part of the rabble, before I heard the flap of powerful wings.  Frost was on her way down now.  I just needed to buy a few more moments.

As I needlessly ducked a swing from an intangible rifle butt, I caught a glint of light overhead and instinct made me suddenly push off from my crouch.  There was the unmistakable report of a powerful sniper rifle and the place where I had once stood had a gouge torn out of it.  Risking a glance up as I rolled behind a piece of debris, I caught sight of Battalion, the original I imagined, riding some sort of flying platform, like those experimental Army designs they threw out as being too unsafe.  Apparently this one had the kinks worked out.

The troubling part was that, unlike his doubles and unlike the one time before I had come against him, the rifle in Battalion's hands, now zeroing in uncannily on me, was no Pushtech toy.  It was, to my eyes, scarily real.  It wouldn't even take a direct hit to put me down.  The ballistic shock from such a huge caliber was more than enough to make even a graze potentially dangerous.  Any real hit and it was over, even if I lived through it.

"So my copies can't touch you," he said, his voice amplified by whatever internal speaker his combat suit had.  "I don't need 'em.  I know this will take you down."  I had cover, sure, but if he had even the slightest idea of my location, it wouldn't matter.  That monstrosity of a gun could probably shoot through schools.  "I know where you're running to, what hole you want to slither down, and there's a good twenty feet between you and it.  You have two choices: give up or try your luck.  Which is it?"

He had me, dead to rights.  No matter how fast I was, it would only be pure luck if I made that run intact.  If I tried to wait him out or reposition, there was a good chance I would be Swiss cheese behind this chunk of car, assuming his more real cronies decided to dally.  Even if Battalion somehow didn't take me down in the first two shots, he would flood this place with Crusaders in moments.  Rational Irene noted this would be a good time to surrender, live to fight another day.  I considered listening to her.

To hell with that.  If I was going to die, I was going to die trying.  Taking a deep breath, I shifted into a runner's crouch, tensing for the sprint ahead.

That was when I heard it.  The unforgettable, inimitable sound of a mechanized bow going off echoed out across the intersection.  The projectile it fired must have hit something because that mighty twang was followed immediately by the sound of tearing metal and the dying whine of an engine.

Battalion's cry of alarm followed that dying engine as I broke cover.  His flying platform had sprouted a steel shafted crossbow bolt of impressive size and, despite his best efforts, he was going to crash.  The one-man army ditched and rolled, hitting the ground hard but clear from the catastrophic landing of his vehicle.  His confused gaze followed my own, down the path of the bolt's flight.

Standing on top of a parked car, nocking another bolt as he drew a bead, was the Argent Archer.  Well, the man at the very least, from his Errol Flynn goatee to a crude version of his signature crossbow.  His powered Pushtech armor, though, was gone, probably wrecked during our final battle with the Crusaders.  Instead, his wiry frame was covered by what I could only describe as hobo gear, cobbled together clothing and improvised protective armor.  It didn't matter what he was dressed in.  He was here.

"You!  It can't be -"

The second bolt tore the rifle out of Battalion's hands.  Not one to miss out on the fun, I blindsided the soldier with a heavy right cross.  Spitting out a tooth, Battalion replied in kind, only to have his strike deflected away, collecting nothing but a kidney punch for his troubles.

"Oh ho, my former ally, it is none other!  'Twould seem I am not a moment too soon."  Archer spun and fired off two more bolts in succession, each exploding into billowing clouds of white smoke.  "Milady Indomitable, could you be so kind as to finish your evening's entertainment?  That smoke shall not mask our movements long."

I would never have considered being so rude as to not grant a gentleman's honest request.  A hard backhand to the bridge of the nose stunned the disarmed Army and a hard uppercut to his jaw either knocked him flat out or just so silly he wouldn't be an issue.  As he fell, Battalion's remaining doppelgangers blipped out of existence in a flash of light.

"Archer, I -"  The words wanted to spill out as we ran side-by-side for the torn-open sewer entrance, but he cut me off with a grin.

"Likewise, milady, I am most certain."  Despite the Pushed shell around his mundane features, Archer's face had traces of the same sorts of lines and stress I, we all, had picked up over these last weeks.  I wasn't even sure I wanted to hear his story.  Either way, it wasn't the right place or time.

We both dove down into the dark tunnels, the sounds of pursuit still close enough for concern.  Now, though, we had darkness and the confusion of the sewers themselves on our side.  In utter silence outside of our feet on wet stone, Archer and I plunged onward.

Chapter 17 Five

"I think we're in the clear," I opined as we continued to make our way through the dark.  Though we both had lights, Archer agreed with me that it was just asking for us to be found.  Without even a hint of pursuit through the dank Atlanta sewers for a good ten minutes now, my paranoia was finally starting to lessen.

"I concur, milady," the ex-Crusader said.  "Mayhap we can light the rest of our way?  Not that I wouldst seek to hasten our trip more than necessary, what with our long separation, but still, time may be of the essence."

"Well, I'll say that I've heard of worse lines," I smirked as I rummaged out my headlamp from my gear bag.  "Though, to be totally fair, I have missed you."  My light flared to life, just as Archer flicked on a lamp at the business end of his crossbow.

"And I you.  All of you."  Archer's lips pressed into a tight frown.  "In only the past few days had I learned of the Five's plight and your own freedom."  Our pace quickened and I was glad to note that we hadn't gotten ourselves lost in our flight through darkness.

"About that, how did you get free?  How did you find us out there?"  Despite my happiness to have another friend on our side, I just couldn't let it go with no explanation despite my initial hesitance to know.  There was always the chance that something was wrong, something that would bite us all on the ass.  With no way to know if Rachel and Duane were safe, I couldn't take any more chances.

"As always, Indy, you are most direct and rightly so."  As he picked his way past some delightful rat carcasses, Archer's mood seemed as cheery as ever.  "It really comes down to the simple fact that, despite his own treachery, Lord Epic was ever eager to put my transgression behind him and welcome me with surprisingly open arms."  He shot me a cocky smirk.  "Well, once I had a chance to beg on bended knee for a second chance.  I can be quite charming, you know."

"I won't argue with that."  My mental focus was starting to falter from all the exertion.  Pain and fatigue were starting to push through from the chase.  "The thing is why the junkyard special there?"  I gestured at his piecemeal equipment as I forced myself to continue slogging on.

"Ah yes, no matter how generous my former liege's spirits may have been, he was not so naive as to allow me to return to my full station."  He chuckled and shook his head.  "I could not fault him, considering I was, after all, planning on finding a way to bring down his regime the moment I could.  In retrospect, though, I would attest his mercy to his own diminished state."

"First Twister talks about Epic hiding from people and then that."  I forced a quick two step out of my aching calf to get ahead of Archer and held an arm out to stop him.  "What the hell is going on?"

Archer stopped, looking into my eyes with pursed lips.  After another few moments of silent brow-wrinkling, he finally spoke.

"I am not sure I can describe it in a way to do it justice, milady."  He stroked his goatee.  "Outwardly, Epic seems little different, perhaps a shade more man than the near-divinity he displayed before.  More so it was an ethereal notion, a certain sense of broken spirit.  Gone was the booming voice and lordly proclamations.  Ye gods, he even deigned to walk instead of fly, something I had never once seen prior."  The bowman shook his head slightly.  "I have only one conjecture -"

"I broke him."

"Most astute."  Archer shrugged.  "It should come as little surprise to you that I have seen the footage after I abandoned my Crusader 'chaperones' for freedom.  It wouldst seem you beat Lord Epic in more ways than one that fated morn."

I raised my blocking arm and fell back into march.  What Archer was saying couldn't be better news and yet I wasn't finding myself jumping for joy.  It wasn't just the agony in my calf or the burning ache in my back.  It wasn't even the great unknown of who had made it to safety and who hadn't.  Something else felt wrong about this whole thing.  I cracked my neck and tried to ignore those nagging worries.

"'T would seem I have offended in some way."

"No, no, it's just, well, nothing.  Just very tired."  I forced myself to crack a smile.  "Rough week."

"Perchance we may find good news when we reach our destination," he offered.  "Following the police frequencies was how I came to find of your situation in the first place and I did not hear mention of any captures or deaths.  Of course, that assumes much as the police now are mere fodder for my former brethren but it is a little something, eh?"

"It's better than nothing."  It wasn't too much further until we would be close to Mackenzie's old lair.  There wasn't much there, considering most of its occupants were ghoulishly animated corpses, but Ian and his few human assistants still had some basic quarters there at the least.  "Hey, you know, you didn't tell me how you managed to slip your watchdogs without your armor."

"Oh, that was a trifle," Archer said.  "They forgot the most important of truths, that it is not the suit makes the hero, but what lies inside."

I didn't try to suppress the smile that put on my lips.

Archer and I stepped into the broad tunnel before the retired pumping chamber that Ian Mackenzie had almost beaten me to death in.  No reason not to call a spade a spade.  I was only alive now because he had wanted it.  My fists clenched involuntarily; in the end, yes, he had been stopped but the memories lingered.  I forced myself to glance over to Archer.

"Lights out."  I clicked off my headlamp.  Only a brief nod and the click of his own light interrupted his senses-straining sweep for movement.  Once more plunged into stifling darkness, we tried our best to creep quietly towards the main chamber.

The human body, being the remarkable machine it is, did what it does best, adapting as best it could.  My hearing sharpened and I could hear, faintly, the sounds of voices.  A sudden hush fell over them and the silence ahead matched our own.  Unfortunately, that snatch of quiet talking had been too indistinct, even for my sharpened senses, to recognize them as friend or foe.  With no other choice, we continued.

Distance became abstract as, finally, the darkened archway beckoned ahead.  I found myself frowning.  My paranoia was surging and, to be frank, it was stupid.  Not that there wasn't potential danger around every corner.  In the situation I found myself in, that was obvious.  The constant excessive caution and self-questioning were the problems.

I looked at the darker patch of shadow that I assumed was Archer and then back to the doorway.

"Alright, we're here."  I stopped as I spoke, putting my hands on my hips.  "You know it and we know you're there."  I flicked on my headlamp.  "Let's cut the crap.  Is it time for cheers or time for a fight?"

"Well, part of me is delighted," a certain short-order cook's voice cut through the silence, "but you know, to be honest, part of me would have loved to spar with you."  Quentin Strange stepped into the beam of my light.  I had the distinct feeling that Archer probably wanted to shoot him.

"Nice to see you too, Quentin."  I gazed past him.  "So ... how did we do?"

"Indy Indy Indy!"  That cry was my only warning before the ankle-deep water was torn up by the Human Tank's treads as he plowed into me with a huge bear hug.

"Does that answer your question?"

The only times in my life before then that I had truly been overtaken by emotion was during each of my parents' funerals.  Otherwise, I did a pretty good job at rolling with life's emotional roller-coaster, though admittedly not as well since the Whiteout and the mounting changes it had made to my existence.  Still, that aside, I was, for a third time, completely overwhelmed by my feelings.  The plus side, though, was that this time, instead of grief and sorrow, it was joy.  Things weren't perfect, not until I knew if Duane and Rachel were alive and safe (even in a jail, they could be rescued), but they were much better than they had been in weeks.

I really wasn't even sure how long it had been since Archer and I had arrived at this point.  All I knew is that I had never hugged so many people as tightly as that in my recent memory.  Medusa was beyond overjoyed, though how much of that was because her best friend was back or that Hexagon was back to his usual Southern gentleman ways I couldn't say.  Tank was his usual hyperactive self and Eye, though subtle as always, seemed rather pleased to know her, well, ward, for lack of a better term, was safe and sound once more.

The closest thing to a brusque reaction to be had was, predictably, from Extinguisher.  Even that was mostly happiness tinged with the undercurrent of ... something else.  I could only think about the words we exchanged falling out of the sky.  Those helmets didn't take over someone's mind; there was every likelihood that represented the truth more than I wanted to admit.

By what I had gathered, it was Quentin and his team who had gotten here first.  To my surprise, their mission had been surprisingly easy.  Forcing the remaining Five out into the open, the advantages had truly been all on their side: Voltage could short the helmets safely, Quentin could deal with any resistance, and Medusa's connection with Hexagon had taken the biggest threat straight off the table.

"That is where we came into the picture," Mind's Eye said, levitating above the slick stone floor next to the Human Tank.  "I would wager it was our friends' great success that caused our own difficulties.  If only I knew for certain where Ms. Choi and Mr. Brooks were ..."

"Probably in custody," Twister opined.  "Some of the tech boys had cooked up suppression cells for all sorts of powers a while ago."

If there had been any difficulties between my old team and our new erstwhile allies, the aging lawman was ignoring it.  The Mighty Polymer, though, seemed almost painfully nervous.  I guess I couldn't blame the girl.  Just a day ago, we would be the worst of enemies.

"That'd explain it," Extinguisher said, nodding.  "It doesn't matter.  We can bust them out, especially if there are as many Crusaders on the fence as you say there are, cowboy.  Hell, we even have Mr. Flynn back on our side."  He shot a playful smile at Archer, who was leaning against the sewer wall next to where I had grabbed a piece of floor.  As Ex turned back to Twister, I felt his gaze linger on me a moment.  Yeah, we would have to talk.  Soon.

"I hate to say it," Hexagon said, two arms folded, two arms gesturing with his speech, and the last two held fast around Medusa's shoulders, a gesture she seemed completely happy with, "but it sounds like we ain't gonna have much time to rest on our laurels, much as I'd like that."

"Don't tempt me,
mi cccielo
," Meds almost purred, putting a scaled hand on one of Hex's massive ones.  "Ssstill, the ssstakes are even higher than ever.  Asss much asss I'd love to, you're right, Henry."  The smile on my face was undoubtedly stupidly big at this point, no matter the gravity of what we were about to discuss.  Meds was my best friend.  She deserved this moment of happiness.

"So, like, if now every single Crusader that isn't on our side is now hunting us, how are we going to get in touch with the dudes on our side to get them together and then join up to beat the bad good guys and then how do we do it and not wreck the entire city in the process because if we do that then the Army guys will blow us all up anyway when we save Alma and drop the dome?"

"Twister, Mind, and I have been figuring that out," Ex said, sitting on his haunches.  "I want to run some of the specifics past Indy but I think we've got an idea that will work."

"Are you going to share with the rest of the class, fearless leader?" Quentin snarked.  "I know Vee, Frost, and I are the junior bird squad around here, but considering we helped pull your collective pork roasts out of the fire -"

"Quentin, come on now, respect the chain of command," Vee interrupted.  "They know what they're doing."

"I agree with Quentin," Frost said, picking shrapnel and damaged scales out of her skin, "for have we not yielded as much blood and sweat in battle as they?  Besides, someone needs to ensure we maintain a certain sense of honor in all of this or we shall have given up the moral high ground."

"That, Dame Frost, I shall salute."  Archer bowed an imaginary cap to the dragonwoman.  "Pray thee, tell all of us what our plan of attack shall be.  Certainly at this point we have all become equal partners in this battle for the soul of our own kind?"

"Yeah!"  Polymer had finally found her voice, perhaps a little too loud as she instinctively expanded her lungs before the shout.  "We're all in it together!"

Extinguisher gave me a put-upon glance and all I could do was shrug.

"I have to agree."  I winced as I sat up.  "Let's hear it, Ex.  What's the plan?"

The firefighter shot an exasperated look at Mind's Eye, then Twister.  Seeing the same look I gave him on their faces, he blew out a frosty sigh and nodded.

"Okay, here it is."

On the surface, the plan was sublime in its simplicity.  Taking into account that any open fighting would have to be minimized for the safety of the citizens, it was intended as a surgical strike, cutting right to Epic to take the head off the beast.  There was something wrong though, something I was still putting my finger on when Frost spoke up.

"While the thought of a gallant final battle with the great enemy lord is appealing despite the stealthy approach," she said as we picked through the meager supplies the few human occupants of this space had left behind, "I am unsure if it would accomplish our goals."