Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1) (5 page)

“Her name is Huggles,” Hexcellent informed Owen.

“Huggles?”

“I was feeling a bit feisty and sarcastic when I created her,” she admitted. “Anyway, those blades on her arm are sharp enough to cut through most metals, and she’s got the strength to wield them. She’s most useful for getting people out of cars, sawing through debris, that sort of thing.”

“I see. Mind having her strike me?”

“I can, but it won’t prove anything,” Hexcellent said. “Huggles can’t cut through anything stronger than steel, and even that gives her trouble. I’d assume a veteran Hero like you is at least that tough.”

“None the less, I’d prefer if you did.” Owen stuck out his left arm and left it there, freely exposed.

“Have it your way. Huggles, cut his arm!” Hexcellent yelled. The words had no sooner left her mouth than the bird-thing whirled into action, again moving with more grace than its form should allow. She swung both arm-blades down in a smooth slice, striking two places on Owen’s forearms. As soon as the blades met his skin, the motion ceased completely. He’d never expected Huggles to be powerful enough to move him, but he was surprised by the amount of strength the demon could muster. It was good to know this thing had some power behind it.

“Not bad,” Owen complimented. “I take it there’s one left?”

“Yup, and I saved the best for last.” This time Hexcellent’s motions were slower, and there was a noticeable delay between Huggles’ disappearance and the next demon’s cloud of smoke. Once it appeared, though, it was impossible to miss. The cloud was huge, and Owen caught the faint scent of brimstone in his nostrils. Once the smoke cleared, he found himself in the rare position of looking up.

This monster stood over seven and a half feet tall, likely eight if one included the large, black horns jutting upward from its forehead. Thick, chitinous black plates covered much of its body, concentrated on the disproportionately large arms, the broad chest, and the thick legs ending in large hooves. Its face was dog-like, black sharp teeth in its muzzle and a pair of glowing red eyes above the snout. Any monster movie company would have paid top dollar for this creature to appear in one of their films, assuming they could keep the rest of the cast from pissing themselves.

“His name is Big Henry,” Hexcellent supplied helpfully. “His job is heavy lifting. Clearing rubble, moving cars, holding up support beams, that sort of thing. More or less the only things you’d be good at, except he doesn’t need a room and pay.”

Owen examined the creature closely. He knew enough about summoners to know that their creatures were often born of a problem or a need. Creating another being from nothing was intensely difficult; the only way to succeed was to pour an aspect of one’s self into it. The summons were supposed to do something that summoner couldn’t. They represented a strength to fill in a perceived weakness.

This summon was not built for heavy lifting. It was built for fighting. Maybe for killing.

“Guess we should give the people what they want,” Owen said, pointing to the other three Supers. “Why not have him give me a little tap?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hexcellent replied. “Big Henry, punch him with everything you’ve got.” This time she didn’t yell, she barely even raised her voice. Owen had just enough time to wonder if her summons even needed to be close enough to hear for her orders to work when Big Henry sprang at him.

This one didn’t have as much grace as the other two, but he made up for it with a shocking amount of speed. He whirled forward, hooves nearly cracking the floor with each step, closing the gap between him and Owen in mere moments. The punch came at the end of the movement, part of the motion’s flow that utilized the extra momentum. It was impressive, especially for a being that Owen suspected had never been trained. The black armored fist drove directly into his torso, right between his sternum and stomach. It had so much power that, even braced in an appropriate stance, Owen was still moved back several inches as the concrete under his feet crumbled against the indirect force.

“Better than I expected,” Owen said, clearly unharmed or inconvenienced by the attack. He glanced up at Hexcellent, whose face had morphed from its usual antisocial glower into an expression of genuine shock. Given how strong this summon was, she’d likely thought it would at least do some damage to him. Owen didn’t fault her for that belief. She hadn’t been inside the Hero world; her sense of scale for what constituted strong didn’t even have a ranking for someone like Titan.

“How durable is this one?” Owen asked, his question shaking her out of her surprised reverie.

“Damn near indestructible.” Her jaw was setting, her eyes growing narrow. She was gearing up for round two, when she’d show that her summon was at least no less durable than he. If it could take his blow with the same lack of effect, it would prove they were on even footing. Owen, fortunately, knew better.

“Good to know,” Owen said, taking a step back from the summon, which remained half-crouched to attack. “Luckily, since you don’t have to use him to fight, we don’t need to test that. Let’s move on. Zone, how about you show me what you can do?”

Hexcellent stared at him for a few moments longer before dismissing Big Henry back to smoke. Owen was sure she wasn’t happy with him at the moment, but that would have to wait. He needed to finish seeing everyone’s skill set for now.

After that, he could work on making them better.

7.

              Before either Zone or Owen could step forward, a bright red light flashed through the room, followed by a brief siren. That abated in moments, replaced by the calm voice of Mr. Greene.

“There is a fire two point five miles away from here. It’s an older building, and structural integrity is a concern. Firefighters are currently spread thin, so they’ve requested our help.”

“We’ll do it,” Galvanize yelled into the air. Owen presumed Greene could hear them, a suspicion confirmed moments later when the voice came back into the air.

“Understood. They’ll be expecting your arrival. Transport is in the basement when you’re ready.”

“You heard the man. Everyone, into your costumes and downstairs. If you take longer than five minutes, you’re getting left behind,” Galvanize commanded. His tone had seamlessly shifted from controlled but friendly to authoritative. Owen had no doubt he’d be abandoned if he dared go over the five-minute mark. Evidently the others believed Galvanize too, as they immediately dashed off toward the door, Zone peeling off part of his sweats before he’d even gotten clear of the room.

“Feeling nervous?” Galvanize asked, breaking into a light jog so as not to violate his own edict.

“Lil bit,” Owen admitted. “Been a long time.”

“You’ll be fine. Fires are where B.B. and Hexcellent really shine. Just follow orders and everyone will get home safe.”

“That would be a pleasant outcome,” Owen agreed. How nice these kids had it: when if they did their job right, no one died. In the Hero world, even if you did everything perfectly, sometimes success still meant blood on your hands.

*              *              *

Titan nearly missed his debut that day, due to the mirror in Owen’s room. He’d tried on his old costume before leaving Colorado, of course, but that had been a piecemeal ordeal, donning and checking each section separately so problems could be identified in turn. It wasn’t until he was fully suited up, walking toward his door, that the figure in the mirror caught his attention and stopped him cold.

It had been over a decade since he’d seen this person looking back in a reflection. This was different than going to see Lenny; this was a man about to walk out into a world of danger. He wasn’t just Owen Daniels wearing a costume. He was Titan, and the full of weight of that realization nearly sent him to the ground. So many memories, so many ordeals. So much loss. Part of him wanted to shrink back, to let Titan fall away in costumed pieces and turn back into Owen.

Instead, he reached up to the side of his mask and pressed a device in his ear, hidden by the red material covering his face. None of the others would have this accessory; it was only for Heroes. They’d made improvements to the ear pieces since he last suited up. This one was light and nestled in the crevice of his ear with total security, giving a sense that no sideways blow would knock it loose. The things had always been damned tough, but a good rocking could send them flying. Titan was unsurprised to find this flaw had been addressed.

“Titan, reporting in.” His words echoed through the empty room.

“Dispatch recognizes Titan,” said a soft voice in his ear. Somewhere in his stomach, a knot of worry loosened. Part of him worried Dispatch would have changed as well, but her voice was the same as always: strong, well-enunciated, and with a vaguely European accent. No one, at least no one Titan had ever talked to, knew Dispatch’s real name, location, or even powers. She was just always there, no matter what time anyone plugged in. Always there, always the same.

“Titan, please respond,” she repeated.

Owen realized he’d zoned out, listening to her voice but not her words. “Sorry, repeat the question.”

“You are cleared for active Hero assignments and for monitoring of a Privately Employed Emergency Response Supers team. Which of these tasks are you signing in for?”

“I’m babysitting the corpies tonight,” Owen replied, working very hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice. If he signed in for active Hero duty, it would mean she’d direct him to any calls for help that fit the bill. Being on oversight duty meant he could use her if a situation arose, but she wouldn’t try to assign any new tasks to him.

“Confirmed,” Dispatch said. “Is your team responding to the fire on Forty-Third Street?” Since corpies and Heroes overlapped on rescue duties, Dispatch always knew who was going where.

“If that’s about two miles from my current location, then yes.” Owen broke his eyes away from the mirror and headed out his door. The earpiece wouldn’t be bothered by anything like walking. He’d seen people easily hold conversations with Dispatch while flying at supersonic speeds.

“Confirmed. You are on note.” Owen winced, involuntarily. “On note” meant he was officially working the incident, and any other Hero who wanted to check and see if it was handled could find out he was there. Being a working Hero made it pretty much impossible to keep a low profile.

“Thank you. Anything I should know going in?” Owen rounded the corner and stepped into the elevator at the end of the hall. The team had already informed him that the space below the lobby button would take him to a transport basement if pressed by someone with the right biometrics. A small push from his thumb and spot of clear metal suddenly lit up, sending him on a rapid journey downward.

“No documented Supers or Powereds in residence at the building. Cause of fire is undetermined, though given degree of neglect and decay in the neighborhood, natural causes are highly possible. Nothing in the reports so far suggests any variant-human activity.”

“So if it is a Super, I’m going in blind,” Owen muttered. He preferred to get at least a forewarning on these sorts of things.

“Again, nothing suggests-”

“I know, I know, sorry Dispatch. I’m just a little on edge,” Owen told her.

“Ah yes, this is your first active assignment since renewing your license.” Dispatch paused, an occurrence so rare it stood out like a curse in Owen’s ear. “In that case, let me be the first to say welcome back. The world has missed you, Titan.”

The elevator opened with a pneumatic whoosh, revealing a large black vehicle with a single open door. Owen moved toward it.

“Tell the world I’m on my way.”

8.

             Their vehicle had a siren, which Owen found surprisingly delightful. In his Hero days, they’d had people with flight, teleportation, and other various means of covering distance, so the only time he’d heard sirens was from the police and emergency responders showing up in the aftermath. Sitting in the vehicle making the sound reminded him of his childhood, before his abilities manifested, when he would feel a thrill every time the firefighters or police officers would drive by.

               Certainly, this team’s transportation had far more advanced accoutrements than the siren. It was constructed out of an SUV; however, the whole thing had been heavily fortified, from the wheels to the antenna. Even with five people inside, one of whom was far from slender, the car had only dropped a few inches. Bright lights buzzed along the dashboard. Zone was fiddling with something where the passenger glove box should have been while Galvanize drove them quickly, but safely, through traffic. There was likely an electronics’ store worth of useful gadgets and pricey doodads, all at their fingertips, but Owen was really only fond of the siren.

               Everyone could see the telltale smoke billowing up from the fire a few blocks before they reached it. Had it been darker, Owen knew there would have been an orange glow cast against the clouds, visible for miles. Daytime stole much of the scenic drama away.

               They came to a stop just outside a police barrier, Galvanize dashing out the door before the rest of them could even unbuckle their seatbelts.