Hero Engine (10 page)

Ann nods, thoughtfully. “He’s right. From what I’ve heard about people talking around Headquarters, the heroes are kind of testy with humans. They feel used. I guess they aren’t wrong, but they knew what they were getting into when they signed the forms.”

I lean back and try to find a way to rest my head without the knot touching anything. The effort is in vain; there is not a single comfortable position to be had. “So where do we go from here, Partner?”

She scowls at me. “We check with Vince. If he’s got anything on that screen name, we track the suspect down. If not, we go back to Headquarters and investigate Tess’ other friends and acquaintances. Maybe we can get a heads-up on where she might be hiding or why she would do something like this.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I lean my face against the cool glass of the window.

When I open my eyes again, the SUV is parked and Ann is already out of the car. I push my door open and hop out. Ann is on her way around to my side.

“I was just coming to see if I needed to carry you back to the plane.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” I say, rubbing my eyes. Ten-minute naps are only so-so for head trauma. “So are we done here?”

“Yup.”

I follow Ann inside and collapse into one of the soft leather chairs. The warmth and supple cushioning drag me immediately into unconsciousness.

“There you are,” Vince’s voices barks from somewhere.

My eyes open to find the monitor already up and on. Only this time, Vince isn’t sitting behind some desk and the video feed is shaking. Vince’s face comes into view. “Get to Houston, now!” I think the camera is mounted on Vince’s wrist and he’s running. “Ann, I need you here to end this madness.”

For the first time, I notice the background noise. Screams and explosions crackle across the speakers. Before we can talk to the pilot, the plane engines wind up.

“What’s going on?” My headache is gone, replaced by a tension in my chest.

“Tess is attacking again. Houston is thirty minutes from Vegas, hopefully you can get here in time. Ann, you might be the only one who can end this. Tess has already killed three heroes.”

The 30-minute flight takes somewhere around three hundred hours. Neither of us speak. Ann has a calm fury written all over her face. She’s what I imagine a gladiator looks like before they enter the arena.

“Houston, out the window on your right,” Ulrich’s voice crackles over the intercom.

We both move to the right of the plane and look out the window. At first, it’s just smoke. But as we get closer, the city comes into view. Fires burn in the rubble of collapsed buildings. People run everywhere, trying to find help, screaming for lost loved ones. Cars are wrecked and smashed and jammed in every which direction.

The pilot sets down in grassy patch next to a pond in a small park. We fly down the steps to the ground. Vince waits for us on the grass, his shoulders slumped and eyes glossy.

“She’s gone.” His voice is hardly audible over the sounds of destruction around us.

Sirens blare. Horns honk. More people shout and scream. Cries for help ring out from so many directions. It’s too much. I can’t focus on where to start helping, and waffling around isn’t going to help. I make my way toward the nearest destruction, determined to aid as many people as I can. Ann follows close behind.

Off to the left, Lady Atlas lifts a car off of a man. She waves paramedics over. We make it up to the rubble that looks like it used to be a small office building. I step over a vinyl banner: ‘Glam Nails, best deals on either side of the border,’ flanked by a Mexican flag on one side, American on the other. I climb over shards of glass and broken cinderblocks.

“Over here,” Ann shouts.

I stumble over debris. A hand sticks out from under a pile of destroyed building. The cement that once made up the walls is charred black from explosions. The hand opens and closes, signaling for help. Ann digs away some of the lighter scrap. We clear enough to find a woman. She’s alive and crying, but her other arm is trapped beneath a chunk of rubble.

“Please. Please get me out of here,” the woman wails.

Ann and I both grab a corner and lift. We don’t so much as budge it.

“Here, let me help.” Lady Atlas steps up next to us. She’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, arms bulging with muscles. Rumor says she’s got the strength of a thousand men.

She squats down at a corner of the piece of concrete wall pinning the woman. Each of her hands take their place. She grunts and pulls and nothing happens.

“Wh-what?” Lady Atlas dusts her hands off and takes position again. This time she lifts the material with ease. She sets it off to the side and bends down to examine the lady.

When I turn, Ann’s gone. Shit. I hope she’s okay. My feet slip and my ankles threaten to turn with every step as I make my way back toward the street. Ann is nowhere to be seen. To my left, a busted pipe sprays water from underground, soaking everything in a 20-foot radius.

To my right is more sidewalk, more chaos. I walk that direction. A pair of EMTs drape a sheet over a body. Seconds later another wounded victim is in front of them. I step over a crosswalk sign. The base is melted and the whole thing leans to the side.

A block ahead, I spot a woman dressed in white robes stained black with soot, red with blood. I recognize her as Medica, a healing hero. She walks down lines of injured, touching their foreheads with her palm. Her whole body glows white for a moment and then she moves on to the next one.

The next man in line lies with his leg pointed in an angle that legs aren’t supposed to go. After her glow, the leg is once again pointing in the right direction. Without hesitation, the man gets to his feet and runs to a wrecked tour bus to help people stranded inside. Tragedies have a way of bringing out the best in Humanity.

Ann wouldn’t be anywhere near Medica, so I take the first road to my right. She’s crouched down next to a small sedan turned on its roof. Broken safety glass is scattered around her feet, and she’s got her arm through the window. The bottom part of the trunk is gone, a blackened hole in its place – probably from what caused the vehicle to flip in the first place.

I crouch down to peer in the window of the car, afraid of what I might see inside. A woman is hanging, pinned by her seatbelt and the steering wheel. Ann strokes her forehead. Passenger seat is empty, but my heart sinks when I look in the back.

“Empty. They weren’t with her,” Ann says quickly, following my gaze.

My heart slows a beat.

“Staying the day with their dad,” the woman in the car says. “And to think, I threw a fit because John wouldn’t let me have them today.” She laughs a mirthless laugh.

“It’s okay,” Ann says. “We’re going to get you out of here and you can tell your kids all about it. Okay?”

The woman gives Ann a weak smile.

Ann rises. “She won’t last long, go get help. I’ll stay with her.”

I nod and sprint to the main intersection. Two firefighters stand next to their truck.

“You two, what are you doing right now,” I yell. Commands are the best way to snap people out of a shock. Don’t give them decisions, give them directions.

Their eyes dart all around the area, without ever settling on anything.

“Hey,” I yell a little louder. “Do you have any cutters in that thing?”

The younger of the two comes out of his daze. He, at least, manages to look at my face. “Cutters?”

“Cutters, shears, the fucking jaws of life, anything.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good. Grab it and come on, we’ve got a woman trapped in a car over here.” I point in the direction of the car.

This seems to snap some kind of getup into the men. They both scramble for a compartment on the side of the fire engine. The younger guy grabs the cutters and the older guy a hydraulic pump. I wave my arm, and they follow me. Ann and I are officially out of our league, so we stand back while they go to work cutting the door away.

“We can’t do anything else here,” I say.

Ann nods. She yells something to the woman inside the car, but the tool is too loud, and I can’t make it out. We return to the main intersection. Something in the air tickles my throat. I cough and hack up gray-black goop. I’ve got to stop and catch my breath. Too much running, too much panic. There’s a dull throb in my hip and my head.

“Ann, Jim, there you are,” Vince calls out.

I pivot and wipe sweat and dust out of my eyes. When my vision clears, Vince is running up to us.

“Come on,” he says, “We’ve got to get back to the plane.”

“Back to the plane?” Ann sounds downright outraged at the idea. “We’ve got to help these people.”

Vince takes a deep breath, coughs and spits out a black glob of shit. “Listen Ann, Jim, we have every hero in SHI here, so your powers might actually be counterproductive at this point. Plus we’ve got emergency crews from everywhere within a hundred miles working right now.”

Ann crosses her arms.

Vince pleads with his eyes. “If we don’t figure out why Tess is on the rampage,” Vince drops his voice, “or why someone blew up the Engine, this isn’t going to stop. Tess might attack again. Maybe AHA is putting her up to this somehow. Maybe this is all unrelated, I don’t know, but I need you to figure it out.”

I turn to Ann. She nods slowly, like she’s not quite convinced.

“I’ve already got people working on compiling footage from this attack and they are trying to track down the hate group screen name you gave us. Go back to the plane and get with them. See what you can find. Maybe there’s a clue as to why this happened. You can stay on the ground if you like, I promise. If we need you for anything, I’ll come get you.”

Ann’s shoulders slump, and she glances back toward the car with the trapped woman. The firefighters help her out and she stands on her own. Ann walks toward the plane, and I limp along right next to her.

ONCE AGAIN,
the comfy jet seat welcomes me in its warm embrace. All the running and climbing has done a number on my hip. By the time all this is over, my joint will have ground itself into nothingness. I would kill for something stronger than aspirin right now.

Ann glances down at my side. “You all right?”

“Just a little stiff. Probably the weather. You know how that cold, damp Texas air just seeps into your bones.”

Ann rolls her eyes and fires up our computer. The screen shows an image of a deeply-tanned woman with a headset. “Hello, I’m Adriana,” she says through a thick Hispanic accent. Cuban, maybe? “Vince has assigned me to help you with all this footage. We are still in the process of collecting feed and trying to sort the good from the bad. I have set you up a folder with video clips in chronological order, as well as a timeline of events.”

“That’s perfect,” Ann says.

“What about the screen name we gave you? Any luck tracking that down.”

“Um, somewhat.” Adriana looks down at something in front of her and back up to the screen. “We are trying to trace it, but this person is very tech savvy. Finding a physical location or a real name is turning out to be quite the difficult task. I will get back to you as soon as we have some solid information. If you need anything else, please call. My contact information is in the folder.”

Adriana disappears and the screen shows only a desktop with a folder titled Houston and today’s date.

Ann clicks on the folder. “So what do you make of our mystery screen name?”

“As much as Kevin turned out to be a bust, there’s something to be said about a person smart enough to throw roadblocks at the biggest intelligence agency in the world. Maybe this AHA
is
something to be feared. Maybe they used Kevin as a pawn. Or maybe it’s some fourteen-year-old kid who has way too much time on his hands.”

The folder populates with video files, as well as a spreadsheet titled ‘Timeline.’ Ann clicks the timeline.

SHI director Vince Larson sends all available heroes out to find Gravitess. Cendy is assigned to Houston, Texas, Gravitess’ home town.

4:52 AM Miles traverses Cendy to downtown Houston.

5:26 AM Cendy checks in, no signs of Gravitess

5:58 AM Cendy calls in emergency. Informs SHI she is under attack. Requests assistance.

5:59 AM Miles traverses Grimfire to Houston.

6:00 AM Miles traverses Aguamal to Houston.

6:02 AM Gravitess kills Grimfire and Aguamal.

6:03 AM Miles Traverses Icestro to Houston as additional backup. Large battle ensues.

6:05 AM Cendy dies. Gravitess flees.

6:10 AM Massive casualties reported. Ten heroes on scene for cleanup and disaster relief.

6:15 AM Cleanup begins. All heroes on scene in Houston to aid civilians.

6:30 AM Jet carrying James Quig and Ann Pretorius lands in Discovery Green Park.

Injuires – unknown   Casualties – unknown

“Missed her by twenty minutes.” Ann’s jaw clenches.

“Who knows if you could have done anything even if we did get here in time.” I put a hand on Ann’s shoulder.

“I could have stopped her power and then anyone could have apprehended her.”

“She can control gravity. Who’s to say she would let anyone near her? You have to be relatively close for your power to work, don’t you?”

Ann shrugs out from under my hand and clicks on the first video file. A shaky, phone video shows a figure in a hooded sweatshirt floating ten feet in the air. “I told you, stay away from me!”

Next video. Hooded figure, Gravitess, flies to the side, narrowly avoiding what looks like a grenade. An explosion rocks the camera out of focus for a second. When it comes back, a woman screams. A body dressed in khaki cargo pants and a plain t-shirt flies by the screen. She slams against a parked car. The camera falls to the ground, face down, as the owner ditches it to run.

“That was Cendy,” Ann says, clicking on the next video.

“Cendy?”

“Yeah, like ‘In-Cendy-Ary.’ She makes these, like, organic grenades.”