Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1) (41 page)

“The eighth annual Supers Care Charity Spectacular kicks off tomorrow at nine in the morning,” Galvanize continued. “Aside from dealing with emergencies, our schedules have been completely cleared out. No appearances, no interviews, no meetings, nothing. All Mr. Greene wants us to do is focus on the event and do our best to represent ourselves, and our sponsors, in a positive light.”

“Translation: we have no excuses for skipping out early when we get bored and tired,” Hexcellent mumbled, not bothering to try and actually avoid being heard.

“Mr. Greene simply wants to make it easy on us to focus,” Galvanize countered, treating her grumbling as though it had been a sincere concern. Owen had realized that this was one of Galvanize’s greatest tricks for handling the egos and whining of his teammates. By acting as though every petty complaint was a genuine issue, it essentially shamed the others into somewhat holding their tongues.

Galvanize reached under the kitchen table, which was laden with healthy-eating options brought in specifically for the Monday meeting. He pulled out a paper bag bearing a logo that said “SCCS” woven into a number eight. It only took a moment to put the meaning together, which gave everyone a clue as to what the packets Galvanize was pulling from the bag might relate to.

“These are your schedules for the coming four days. It tells you where to be for the individual events and contests you signed up for, as well as directs you to places on site where we can rest and recover privately.” Galvanize began handing them out one at a time. Each team member’s name was scrawled in impressive calligraphy across the eggshell-colored envelope. “None of this should come as much surprise to you, as we all chose our activities ourselves; however, there are two exceptions I need to make you aware of. Mr. Greene felt it was important that we show a united presence and as such requested that we be registered for two team events.”

“Anyone else worried by the fact that he’s just telling us this now?” Zone ripped off the top of his envelope and began hurriedly sorting through pages until he found what he was looking for. “Are you shitting me, Galv? The tug-of-war?”

“It was chosen because all Supers, be they Heroes, athletes, or PEERS, can compete. Plus, it shows all of us working in tandem toward a common goal.”

“Yeah. . . do you even need us to call bullshit on that?” Hexcellent jerked a thumb at Owen, who was examining his packet of documents far more carefully that Zone. “They picked it because it’s a contest of pure strength, which means Titan can do all the work and we won’t look like dumb-asses. It’s going to get us far, sure, but no one is going to be fooled into thinking we four did anything other than hold the rope.”

“There will be entire teams on the other end pulling against us,” Galvanize protested. “Even Titan can’t handle the task alone.”

“No, I probably can,” Owen replied, looking up from his pages at last. “I mean, depending on who they’ve got on the other teams. Anything is possible, but knowing the Heroes of Brewster, I’d lay pretty good odds that I can win that thing solo.” He glanced around at the others and gave a half-shrug of his shoulders. “Look, I didn’t ask for this crap any more than you did, but I may as well be honest about our chances of winning.”

“What’s the other event?” Bubble Bubble asked, her own packet resting untouched in front of her.

“A simple Q&A for those interested in going into the PEERS line of work,” Galvanize responded, clearly glad to be even momentarily off the tug-of-war topic. “Titan will be there to field questions from active Heroes who are interested in taking on Hero Liaison roles.”

Hexcellent snorted then snickered in a combination so perfect that everyone at the table instantly knew she’d practiced it. “Which means Titan will get peppered with questions for half an hour while we sit around with our metaphorical dicks in our hands. The dudes could probably literally do that, too, and no one would even notice.”

Galvanize began to reply but stopped himself. He took a moment to look around the table at the faces of his team, and then sat down in the only open chair remaining at their breakfast table. “Look, the simple truth of this is that Titan is
far
more famous than the rest of us. You know it, I know it, and Mordent certainly knows it. So they want to put him out in front of the cameras as much as possible, with us right there alongside him to make sure the logos get seen. I’m not saying it’s going to be great, but it’s only two events. The rest of the time we get to do our own things.”

“Galvanize, chill,” Hexcellent told him. “No one’s actually pissed about the extra events. We know Titan is a fucking legend, and at this point, hanging out in his shadow can be kind of fun. We just didn’t want you trying to sell us shit by pretending it was chocolate.”

“Not how I would have put it, not even in the slightest, but I second the general sentiment,” Bubble Bubble said.

“I’m in for whatever the team wants,” Owen told them. “Technically, Mordent doesn’t have the right to sign me up for events I don’t agree to, so if you all aren’t feeling these two then I’ll drop out. Pretty sure they won’t try and force you four to handle them without me.”

“No, we should do them.” Zone lowered his packet, and, in a rare display, actually looked Owen in the eyes. “Who cares if it’s really all about you? That’s business as usual for us corpies. At least there’s the chance some good will come of these. And besides, I think we might not entirely hate the idea of spending a little time together at this thing. You know, as a team.”

Owen scanned the table, watching for dissent but finding only agreeable smiles and nodding heads. Personally, he wished they had asked him to call it off, at least the tug-of-war. He had a feeling that SAA members and Heroes weren’t going to take well to losing to one washed up Hero and his team of corpies. But what his team wanted, Owen would deliver.

“Tell Mordent we’re good to go,” Owen said, looking over at Galvanize. “And ask them if I’ve gotten any mail yet today. If we’re spending most of the week out in public, I’d better get my new uniforms pressed.”

78.

Owen was surprised by the knock at his door. Given the team’s busy day of helping out at a multicar pileup, not to mention the upcoming public spectacle, he’d expected everyone to have already hit the showers and be heading to sleep. Getting up from his bed carefully, he walked over and pulled open the door to find Hexcellent standing on the other side.

For a moment, Owen didn’t even recognize the thin, pale young woman in front of him, as it was the first time he’d ever seen her face free from its caked layers of makeup. Adding in that she was adorned in a t-shirt bearing Spyda and his band along with a pair of sweatpants, she could have easily passed as a different person. In spite of all the moaning and complaining about Mordent and the rules, she was possibly the most dedicated to never being seen out of character.

She looked younger than usual and a bit more frail, as though he were seeing her without her armor for the first time. The impression of weakness was quickly shattered as she strode past him, scanned the meager room, and let out a sharp whistle. “Man, they really fucked you good on the accommodations, huh? Pretty sure this was a storage room back when Mirror Fog worked here.”

“Was it now?” Owen had known from day one Greene was sending a message, but he hadn’t imagined the corporate puppet had gone quite so far to send it. “What’s up kid, can’t sleep?”

“Yeah, they make drugs for that,” Hexcellent replied. “I just wanted to see what you had scheduled around eleven tomorrow.” Reaching into the pocket of her sweatpants, she pulled out a half-crumpled piece of paper and tried to smooth it out. “I’ve got a gap in ye olde schedule, and if we do lunch together in public then Greene can’t really bitch about me eating from the food stands that will be there. I mean, team solidarity and supporting a good cause, that’s two fucking birds right there.”

Owen repressed a chuckle and went across to his dresser, picking up the packet and pulling his own schedule out of it. By the time he turned back around, Hexcellent had crossed the room and was now examining the pair of pictures on his desk. She glanced up, stared at him for a long moment, then looked back down.

“Were you wearing a wig in these? Your hair is way longer, but you look almost exactly the same.”

“Those photos were taken over ten years ago.” Owen moved to join her, staring down at his sons. It was hard to believe so much time had passed. He could still remember watching Roy struggle to get the washing machine off the ground, then slowly moving it higher and higher. By the time he’d managed to hold it over his head, the kid was so proud he may as well have been Atlas holding the earth. And Hershel, nervous as could be to speak in front of all those people at the spelling bee, had still pushed through. What he lacked in strength, Hershel easily made up for in heart and guts.

“Ten years?” Hexcellent looked back and forth again then stood up straight. “Are you a fucking Highlander?”

“Just a Super whose body does not want to play along with the aging process,” Owen replied. He tried not to think about his body’s rebuffing of something as natural as growing older. It meant that there was no peaceful end in sight somewhere down the line. The only options were to be killed or to keep living until it became a curse. At least there were Supers out there who could kill him. After so many years of being untouchable, Owen actually took a measure of comfort in that knowledge.

“Damn. The kids still that age too?”

“No, they’ve both grown up into fine young men.” Owen smiled, unable to suppress the fatherly pride that beamed within him. Even if they hated him until the end of time, he would never stop being proud of what his sons had made of their lives. “They're my kids, actually. Going through the HCP right now.”

“Oh yeah, I saw some videos speculating about what would happen to your family after. . . well, you know, the fucking another dude thing.”

“I’m familiar with it, yes.”

 “So are they like you? Immortal little bad asses destined to whip the shit out of every bad guy who crosses their path?” Hexcellent stepped away from the picture slightly, more interested in Owen’s current expression than his photographed past.

“They’re similar, but with gifts all their own.” Owen shook his head, still looking at the boys as he’d remembered them until they came striding into his bar looking for answers. “But they’re better than me by a mile. Those two are going to make the world a more decent place, in and out of costume.”

“In costume? Ah, I get you. Titan’s kids in the HCP. Bet they’re knocking the teeth out of all the other students.”

“The HCP isn’t as cut and dry as you might think,” Owen told her. “Even I got knocked around in my early days. It’s not as much about the beatings, but what you learn from them. Actually, I’m hoping to get time off in a few months to go watch their end of the year exam, assuming Greene doesn’t find a way to keep me penned up here.”

“As long as you put on a good show this week, I bet you’ll be able to swing a favor or two,” Hexcellent advised. “And if worse comes to worse, ask Galvanize for the time instead of Greene. Fearless leader has a knack for making the suit come around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Owen realized he was still holding his paper, so he pulled it up to check the time Hexcellent had asked about. “Looks like I’m free from ten to noon. Lunch at eleven, then?”

“Kickass, I’ll meet you at the entrance to the food alley.” Hexcellent pulled out another piece of paper, this one diagramming the different eating options available to those attending the charity event. She skimmed it with a growing expression of delight. “I say we hit the cotton candy and funnel cakes first.”

“That’s your idea of lunch?”

“That’s my idea of what I’m eating with my very rare access to a free pass.”

Owen glanced down at his schedule once more, the unmistakable sense that he was being played creeping into his mind. “You’re going to get me in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Fuck yeah I am.” Hexcellent turned and headed out the door, but turned back around and gave Owen a genuine smile. “But hey, you’ve only got yourself to blame. Before you showed up, there wasn’t any trouble to get in.”

Then she was gone, leaving Owen torn between whether he should feel complimented or worried by her statement. Ultimately, he settled on the former.

79.

               The hectic, half-mad energy of the sprawling grounds felt strangely familiar to Owen as he rode past the few security barriers, crammed with the rest of his team into the Mordent-issued SUV. Once upon a time, Titan had been a mainstay at many such events, putting on displays of strength and signing autographs until his pens ran dry, all in the name of giving back to the community. Many of his fellow Heroes undertook such activities as necessary obligations, something to generate good PR and make their agents happy. And, in total truth, Owen hadn’t been so different from them when he first started doing Hero work. That changed when he found out about Hershel and Roy’s status as Powereds. Suddenly all those unfortunate souls he’d had the chance to help seemed closer to family than strangers.

As they cruised past various stalls and tents being set up on the Brewster fairgrounds, which the city generously allowed for the SCCS’s use, Owen felt pangs of both nostalgia and regret. While it was good to be back in a position where he could make a difference, the weight of all his years pissed away on seclusion and self-pity weighed heavy on his heart. He looked away from the window, turning his attention to the team that was excitedly gabbing inside the vehicle.