Brothers of Chaos (The Unstoppable Titans Book 1) (20 page)

The Camaro approached the
apartment building at a suicidal speed. Normally Chris would’ve parked in the
garage, but he knew that wasn’t at all important. He parked right in front of
the building, in the middle of the street. If anyone came around complaining,
their loudmouth ramblings would fall on deaf ears. Chris and Owen jumped out of
the car and ran inside the building. They would knock down anyone who got in
their way.

Chris had
his cell phone to his ear. “He’s not picking up,” he said to Owen.

They ran up
the stairs. Owen wished they’d gotten something closer to ground floor, but it
had been Alyssa who’d paid for the place. She had insisted on the top floor.

Thinking of
her acted as fuel. He felt himself running faster. He didn’t want to lose
Daniel the same way he lost her. He ran right past Chris and was the first to
reach their place.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris heard
Owen scream. He didn’t dare come any closer; he wasn’t sure if he could handle
what was inside. If it made Owen scream like that, then it must’ve been bad.
Owen backed away from the door. Chris stepped forward. He was the leader. He
had to face whatever it was, but he knew Daniel was dead. He knew it without
seeing.

Then he saw.
His eyes confirmed what his brain already concluded moments earlier. Daniel’s
body was lying motionless on the floor of the armory. Blood was pooling around
him. Owen and Chris walked over to their friend; they noticed his eyes were
wide open, but he was smiling.

Neither Owen
nor Chris noticed the redhead standing in the corner.

Chris did
notice something flying toward the both of them, though. Something small and
red. It tapped him innocently on the chest and fell to the floor. Owen acted
immediately; he grabbed the tiny bomb and threw it straight into the air. It
exploded almost instantly, blowing a hole in the ceiling. The shockwave pushed
them to the ground.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen was the
first on his feet. Michael threw another Buster. Owen, realizing the redhead
was trying to kill Chris, jumped into the air and spin-kicked the bomb back at
Michael. It exploded, sending him out the window he’d been standing in front
of. Chris and Owen ran to the window and looked down at the street. Michael had
landed on Chris’s Camaro.

They stood
there for a while, both sure Michael wasn’t dead and would start moving any
second.

Twenty
seconds went by. He wasn’t moving.

“Stay here,”
Owen said to Chris as he went over to D. He opened the back of its head and
turned it on. Chris watched, hopeful it was finally working. If anybody could
fix it, it was Daniel. He had been a genius. Chris was so confident in Daniel’s
talent, he was willing to stand aside and let the robot take care of Michael
from this point on. Speaking of Michael, Chris looked back down to the street—

“Oh crap!”
he screamed.

Owen turned
around and saw Chris backing away from the window. Something flew through,
smashing the whole wall in like a wrecking ball. It was Michael. His shirt was
full of holes, and he had a few cuts on his face. That gave Owen a glimmer of
hope: If Michael could be hurt, he could die.

Before the
dust could settle, Owen rammed Michael. The two of them flew through the hole.
Instead of falling to the street below, they clung to the wall. They were just
below the hole, trading kicks and punches with each other.

Michael
climbed up the wall, trying to get back inside, when Owen grabbed his ankle and
pulled him off, swinging him at the wall below and smashing in the window, no
doubt scaring whoever occupied that room.

With all the
strength he could muster, he swung Michael up over his head and let go, sending
him up onto the roof.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris poked
his head out the hole to see Owen climbing up the wall, digging his fingers
deep into the bricks. In a matter of seconds, he was on the roof and out of
sight.

Chris ran
over to the robot and started rummaging through the items and schematics on
Daniel’s worktable, looking for the remote, but it was nowhere to be found.

Focusing his
attention back on the robot, he opened the panel on the back of its head. He
hadn’t seen how Daniel turned it on the day he’d revealed it to them.

Seconds
ticked to minutes as Chris tried to figure it out, the whole time hearing the
battle on the roof. He pressed a few buttons in the machine’s head, hoping
something would happen. Nothing did.

Chris was at
his wit’s end. Finally he decided to just mess with everything—the wires, the
microchips, everything—until the damn thing moved.

That’s when
a metallic hand grabbed Chris’s arm gently and pulled it away.

D was
online.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen and
Michael continued trading punches. Michael’s face was bloody and bruised now,
which reassured Owen. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Michael was defeated.

Owen grabbed
his arm and began swinging him around like a lasso. He released Michael; his
body flew like a rag doll, and landed with a thud on the ground. Owen ran over
to him, hoping to get a few cheap shots while the getting was good, but as soon
as he got within reaching distance, Michael was on his feet again. He tackled
Owen and the two of them fell on the ground hard.

Having had
the wind knocked out of him, Owen lay on his back, looking up at Michael, who
was grinning. He raised a fist, ready to pound Owen’s face in, but suddenly a
flash of metal rammed Michael away.

Owen was
astonished—and very grateful—to see D standing over him. Chris had gotten him
to work. And now Owen was on his feet again as Michael slowly got to his. Owen
didn’t even think about his next move; he just did it.

As fast as
he could, he ran over to Michael, grabbed his arm, and then tossed him over to
D. The robot grabbed him in midair and slammed him down, making a small crater
in the roof.

Standing
back, Owen watched D slam Michael down on the ground repeatedly. A final slam
put him down for the count. D stood over him, placing a metallic foot on his
chest. Owen got ready to finish him—the murderer of his friends—personally, and
so help Michael if he even thought about telling Owen his shoes were untied.

Before he
could even blink, however, Michael shoved the robot off of him and jumped to
his own feet once again. He looked tired and angry, with blood pouring from his
mouth and nose. He ran toward Owen. They collided and fell over the edge.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris ran up
the stairs to the roof as fast as his feet would take him. He burst through the
door and looked around for Owen and Michael, but all he saw was D. The robot
was looking down over the roof’s edge. Chris’s heart skipped a beat. He ran
over to join D. He too looked over the edge, but all he saw was the swimming
pool … and two dark figures floating in it.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen woke
with a start. He had no idea where he was when he opened his eyes. Everything
was blue and blurry. He wondered if he was dreaming again as he looked around.
There was a swooshing sound, far removed from the soothing electric hum he was
used to in his dreams. This was something different.

He suddenly
caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye. Someone was floating
toward him, someone with red hair and murder in his eyes.

Michael!

Owen
realized where he was and what was happening. He and Michael had fallen into
the Olympic-sized community pool. There was shattered glass from the skylight
floating in the water. Michael punched Owen in the face. The force of the punch
sent him shooting through the water like a missile, and he hit the side of the
pool so hard it cracked the concrete. Any air he had left in his lungs was
forced out by the collision. He tried to get to the surface, but Michael was
already swimming toward him. He grabbed Owen’s foot and pulled him deeper into
the pool. Owen felt his fingers wrap around his neck.

He felt like
his neck was about to snap.

He grabbed
Michael’s arms, trying to pry them apart, but he was too weak from the lack of
oxygen. But he had to do something.

He grabbed
at Michael’s arms again, but instead of pulling them apart, he held fast, then
kneed Michael as hard as he could in the stomach. As if in slow motion, Michael
flew backward to the other end of the pool.

Owen crawled
out of the water while he had a chance and lay down on the concrete, too tired
to run away. He was gasping for air.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris tore
down the stairs to the ground floor. He had told D to go back to the room and
stay there; he didn’t want anyone seeing the robot.

He finally
made it to the pool. He looked around and spotted a dark figure lying next to
it, breathing heavily. He could tell immediately it was Owen. He rushed over
and kneeled down next to him.

“Owen? Are
you all right?”

Owen didn’t
answer. Chris took note of his appearance: He was extremely pale, as if he were
sick. Chris was about to pick him up when a huge splash erupted from the pool,
covering him in water. A figure landed next to him and Owen.

Chris felt
his body leave the ground. He was airborne, Owen and Michael growing farther
away. Suddenly Chris hit the ground on the other side of the pool and was out
like a light.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen had
seen everything. He saw Chris run up to him and ask if he was okay, and then he
saw Michael jump out of the pool and throw Chris away like he was garbage.

He felt
something on his stomach now. Michael had placed his foot on it and was
pressing down, making it impossible to breathe. Owen tried to push the foot
away, but he was too weak. A bright light began clouding his vision.

Suddenly the
pressure was gone. Michael was looking at something in the background. He
looked back down at Owen.

“Don’t go
anywhere,” he said, and was gone in a flash.

Now Owen saw
something else. He wasn’t sure what it was; it hovered over him, white and
misty—completely indistinct. It almost looked like a ghost…

He knew now
he was dying. What he thought to be his spirit, his soul, was floating away
from his body. He reached up to grab it. He could feel it in his fingers; it
was warm to the touch. It was like grabbing water.

The mist
stopped flowing and stayed still over his body. After a moment, it returned to
Owen. He could feel his senses slowly coming back.

Now he could
hear voices somewhere in the background.

“Are you
sure he’s the one?” a voice asked.

“Yes,” said
Michael. “I saw it.”

The one for what?
Owen asked himself.

He didn’t
want to find out. He tried to move, to muster enough energy to stand, but he
couldn’t. He rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away.

He didn’t
get very far, however, because something pressed down on his back, holding him
in place on the wet concrete.

It was a
foot.

“Where are
you going?” the unfamiliar voice asked. “You can’t leave. We need you to do
something for us.”

*
 
*
 
*

Chris came
to moments ago and saw a blond guy talking to Owen across the pool. Chris
didn’t recognize him, but he recognized Michael, who was standing behind him.
Whoever the blonde was, apparently he was friendly with Michael, and therefore,
no friend to the Unstoppable Titans.

Chris made
an attempt to stand but found it difficult. His whole body was in pain,
including his head, which was throbbing. He saw the blond stranger and Michael
pick Owen up and leave. He had to stop them. Chris made an even greater attempt
at standing.

This time he
was successful. He ran to where the two had carried Owen. He saw a silver Jetta
speed out onto Calhoun Street.

Wherever
they were going, he had to get there too, and fast.

Owen heard a car honk but
could see nothing except streetlights and the sides of buildings from the
backseat. He could tell the car was speeding, and Michael and the blond
stranger were in the front seats, but he had no idea where they were going. He
was still weak from the pool fight.

“Where are
we going to do this?” he heard Michael ask.

“There,” the
stranger said.

Owen assumed
the guy was pointing at something but he couldn’t see where. Suddenly the car
made a sharp right. Owen was pushed back against the seat, as if the car were
going uphill. He looked up through the window and saw a low concrete ceiling
and a lot of columns.

This had to
be the six-level parking garage that was a few blocks from the condo.

Suddenly the
car stopped and the driver’s-side window lowered.

“Jason, what
are you doing?” Michael asked.

“Getting a
ticket to park,” Jason replied. “It’s free. There’s no point in making a scene.
It could make things difficult for us. If we’re interrupted, we might not
finish at all.”

The car was
in motion again. Owen could hear voices in the distance. He wanted to scream
for help, but he knew whoever it was would be no match for Michael, and Owen
didn’t want to get innocent people killed.

He decided
to keep his mouth shut and, once his strength was back, he’d take Michael and
Jason out himself.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris jogged
down Calhoun Street, looking left and right for the car he’d seen Michael and
the stranger driving. He patted his hoodie pocket for reassurance; they were
there, all right.

Suddenly he
stopped at the corner of Calhoun and 3
^rd
Street. He had caught a
glimpse of something silver driving up through the parking garage in front of
him.

It was the
Jetta.

He crossed
the street and ran up the nearest stairwell of the garage, heart racing with
every second that ticked by. He knew what he was going to do when he got up there,
but he was afraid of how things would turn out.

For him and
for Owen.

*
 
*
 
*

Owen felt
the car pull into a slow stop. Jason got out as Michael looked back at Owen
from the passenger’s seat.

“It’s
showtime
,” said the redhead.

Owen was
pulled forcefully from the back seat. Michael carried him, feet off the ground,
toward Jason. Jason saw them and an angry expression grew on his face.

“Put him
down, damn it!” he spat. “We don’t want to look suspicious. Not now.”

With a sigh,
Michael set Owen firmly on the ground. Owen looked around; they were on the top
level of the garage. There were only a few cars parked around and there were no
people present.

The moon was
shining brightly upon the three of them. The stars were more visible than Owen
remembered them ever being before. Maybe it was fear making him more aware of
things; he didn’t know what was about to happen, and it truly frightened him.

That was
when he noticed Jason carrying a backpack. He set it down on the ground and
opened it, placing himself between Owen and the pack.

Owen tilted
his head, trying to look around Jason to see what was inside but Michael held
him fast.

“You’ll see
what it is in a minute,” he whispered in Owen’s ear.

Jason turned
to face them, holding in his hands what looked like a dark-red bowling ball.

No, it
wasn’t a bowling ball.

It looked
familiar to Owen, so very familiar. Jason walked toward him, holding the ball
before him, an evil smile on his face. The closer he got, the more Owen grew
afraid. It was slowly dawning on him where he’d seen this ball—this orb.

His dreams.

He had built
it himself. Or, at least, he thought he did.

“Now,” Jason
said to Owen, “you’re up.”

*
 
*
 
*

Chris
frantically searched the second level. He didn’t see any
Jettas
anywhere. There was so much ground to cover, so he ran around with no clear
path. He thought of screaming for Owen, but figured a sneak attack was best; he
wasn’t as strong as Owen, and if Owen was still in Michael’s possession, that
had to mean something was wrong with him, that he couldn’t fight.

Chris
continued to search for a few more minutes, and then when he was satisfied—and
frustrated—he made his way to the stairs, up to the third level.

*
 
*
 
*

“What do you
mean?” Owen asked as casually as he could. “I don’t know what to do with this.”

Jason, still
holding the dark-red orb in front of them, scoffed and shook his head. “You do
know what to do,” he said, casting an uneasy eye toward Michael.

“What do you
guys want with it?” Owen asked.

“What we
want,” Jason said, stepping closer and grinning, “is for you to turn this thing
on so we can use it. That’s all.”

“What makes
you think I can get it to work?”

“I know you
can because I can’t,” said Michael. “You and I are two pieces of a puzzle, my
friend. I know you dream about making the orb. I do too. You and I made this
thing, in a different life.”

Owen had no
idea what to make of this. It was similar to what Nikki had told him. He looked
at the orb again. He and Michael had made it? In a “different life”? Was that
true? He only had a vague sense of its purpose.

Yet, he
could remember vividly how it felt in his hands: slimy and warm.

Evil.

That’s what
it was: evil. Even though he didn’t know exactly what it would do, there was no
way he could activate it for them.

He wouldn’t.

“Do you know
what it can do?” Owen asked Michael.

Michael
looked down at him and grinned. “Oh yeah.”

“Tell me,
and maybe I’ll do what you want.”

“How about
you tell us or we’ll kill you.”

“If you kill
me, you’ll never get that thing to work.”

Jason lost
his grin. “What if I told you it will bring about world peace?”

“I would
tell you I didn’t believe you,” Owen replied.

“And then I
would tell you that you were a fool,” Jason said. “Our plan is to end all world
wars and bring about a more peaceful existence for everyone, including you.”

“How is this
going to accomplish that?”

Jason
stepped closer. “Turn it on and find out.”

Just then,
Owen kicked Jason in the stomach, sending him flying against a parked car.

His strength
was back.

But just as
he was about to swing around and take down Michael, he felt a sharp pain in the
back of his neck. He felt dizzy and dropped to the ground. His vision became
extremely blurred, the pain in his neck intense.

He looked up
and saw Michael lowering his arm after delivering the strike. Then Michael ran
over to Jason and helped him to his feet. Jason was groaning and bent double.
He looked at something Owen could not see. He walked toward that something,
which was blocked by a few parked cars.

Owen heard a
scream, and then he saw Jason drag a young brunette back to where he lay.
Michael grabbed him and held him in place, facing Jason and the girl. Jason
pulled out a knife from his pocket and held it to the girl’s throat.

Owen knew
what this was. He knew what Jason was hoping to accomplish by having a hostage.

And he hated
himself for the decision he had already come to.

“Turn it on,
Owen,” said Jason.

Owen looked
at the orb on the ground, and then back at Jason and the young girl, who was
squirming in his grip. She had to be in her mid-twenties. Her black eyeliner
began to smear from the tears which started pouring down her face.

“Turn it
on!” Jason said more forcefully.

“No.”

“What?” said
Jason.

“I’m sorry.”
Owen was apologizing to the young woman, and for a moment, he could see she had
understood; her eyes seemed to be pleading with him more intensely.

But he
couldn’t do it. It was something he and Chris had agreed to (Alyssa and Daniel
had refused to accept such a policy): If either one of them were ever in a
situation where few could be sacrificed to save many, they would do it.

Owen found
himself in that very situation now.

He shook his
head. Jason pressed the knife against the girl’s throat, drawing blood. She
tried to scream.

“What’s your
name?” Jason asked her.

“Hope,” she
cried out.

“How fitting.
Well, Hope, this guy in front of us has chosen to let you die rather than do
something as simple as help us turn on that orb.”

She looked
at the orb between her and Owen.

“How does
that make you feel?” Jason asked.

“Please
stop.”

“I will once
he turns it on.”

“What does
it do?” asked Hope.

Jason looked
taken aback by this. “Does it matter?”

“Is it a
bomb?”

“Far from
it.”

Suddenly
Hope turned and punched Jason right in his crotch. He keeled over in pain. She
got up and ran away from the scene.

“Run!” Owen
screamed. “Get help!”

Michael
tossed Owen to the ground, grabbed the knife from Jason, and threw it with such
force Owen couldn’t even see it; he could only hear it piercing the air.

What he did
see, though, was Hope’s head exploding in a shower of red. Her body dropped to
the ground.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris
watched the scene with increasing agitation. He felt helpless as Michael and
his friend harassed Owen. He watched as they shoved a dark orb in his face. He
watched as the stranger grabbed a girl and held a knife to her throat.

Then … then
he watched the girl run for her life only to have her head explode, her body
dropping a few feet from him as he hid behind a car.

He didn’t
know what to do. He had concocted a plan that involved blowing these guys to
hell with a Buster or two, but Owen was too close to them. Chris had to come up
with another plan that didn’t involve harming his best friend.

Then again,
he saw how Owen had handled the hostage situation moments earlier, not giving
in to his captors’ demands for the sake of one person’s life.

Should Chris
do the same?

*
 
*
 
*

Owen was too
tired to move. He lay on his back, looking up at the sky, at the stars
twinkling above.

“Isn’t there
something you can do, little brother?” he heard Jason ask desperately.

“Well, there
is something I’ve been experimenting with,” said Michael.

“Do it.”

Michael
appeared over Owen, blocking his view of the sky. He held his hands out in
front of him now, placing them on either side of Owen’s head. For a moment,
nothing happened…

Then the
most horrible feeling overcame Owen. A terrible rumbling filled his head,
literally making his face shiver violently. He felt an immense pressure in his
head; it felt like it would explode at any moment.

Suddenly
images started appearing in his mind: He saw Daniel, and the silly way he’d
fallen out of the tree house when they had taken out that vampire at the
Trails. Owen wanted to cry at the sight of it.

He’s dead,
an unfamiliar voice reminded
him.
No more softball.

Now he saw
the orb being constructed under his delicate hands. His long white fingers
touched the surface, first running them around the top, then down the middle,
and then finally drawing three circles at the base. As he did this, yellow
lights appeared where he had touched. When he finished, the orb glowed from
within.

Instantly
the images in Owen’s head vanished as if they were wiped clean from his mind.
He could see nothing at all for a moment; his vision had grown to a white blur.

“I got it,”
he heard Michael say, though he sounded as bad as Owen felt. “I know how to do
it.”

“Then do
it!” Jason barked. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Les did
something to me earlier. I feel sluggish.”

With all his
strength, Owen turned his head and, with his returning vision, saw Michael pick
up the orb and do the same things he’d seen himself doing: First, he circled
the top of the orb, then traced his finger down the middle until he got to the
base, where he drew three circles.

Immediately
the orb lit up from within, and the air around Michael became electric. A rumbling
was emitting from the orb, and it was getting louder.

“Hold it
higher!” Jason snapped, putting two small black earplugs in his ears as he
wrapped his arms around his brother to get as close as possible. There were
steady blue lights blinking from the plugs, and Owen assumed they were
specifically made to protect Jason from the orb.

Michael held
the orb over his head. It looked to Owen as if he were having trouble with it;
it was shaking wildly in his grip. Waves were pulsing out of it now, heading in
all directions.

Whatever
this orb was built for, whatever Jason and Michael wanted to accomplish … it
was happening now.

*
 
*
 
*

Chris had
seen enough—now was the time to act. He reached into his pocket and pulled out
a Buster. He had to blow them away; he didn’t like what that strange orb was
doing. He knew it was wrong.

Owen was
still too close to them, though.

Owen…

He was
looking straight at Chris.
 
Chris stared
back. There was something in Owen’s eyes. The orb was pulsing loudly, too loud
for Chris to hear anything around him. It looked as if Owen wanted to speak,
but it would have been impossible to hear him.