How to Save the World (21 page)

 

CHAPTER 21

W
hat was it with supervillains and empty warehouses? Did they get some kind of two-­for-­one deal on them? Just once, it would have been nice to see some supervillains work out of a five-­star hotel or something. Someplace where after everything was done, a massage therapist or two was guaranteed to be on hand.

At least we knew we were on the right path. Tamara Diesel wasn't trying to be stealthy, but there also weren't giant neon signs pointing to her lair. The only obvious sign was the smashed security cameras along the road. “So Davenport won't hack them and spy,” Angélica had said as we'd raced along. I phased a few steps behind her as we darted around abandoned warehouses by the docks, past the disabled cameras. It might have kept Davenport out, but it did us a favor, too. If we could get past Tamara Diesel's sentries, they wouldn't see us coming.

Angélica had half of the antidote in unbreakable vials strapped to her thigh. The other two doses were tucked in little slots on the sleeve of my new uniform. I could feel the liquid sloshing as I phased in a pattern designed to avoid sentries. I recognized a ­couple of the lookouts: Captain Cracked flew overhead on his hoverboard, and Scorch spread the smell of burning as I sneaked past him. Guy flew close to the ground, darting between buildings and sticking to shadows as much as he could. It was kind of a miracle that we weren't noticed, though, because Angélica wore her uniform from her own days on the front line.

Vicki had told me once that it was red and memorable. She had really failed to impart just
how
red. Vividly crimson thigh-­high boots, pants that were a ­couple of shades darker, and a top that left her arms bare and was somehow even brighter than the boots. She had black bracers around her rather impressive biceps, but I couldn't determine their purpose at all. She'd shoved her black hair under a gray beanie that I figured wasn't part of the original outfit.

She wore red sunglasses and a determined look as she ran. When she launched herself, phasing up to the fourth-­story rooftop of a warehouse, I didn't question it. I followed after her. Granted, I aimed a little low and had to grab the edge to keep from falling off, but I pulled myself to safety and out of sight as Guy landed next to us. Together, we crept to the edge of the roof and studied the warehouse next door. I could see the street signs that Kiki had put into my head from this angle. It gave me an eerie feeling that wasn't quite déjà vu, but came damn close.

“Thoughts?” Angélica asked.

I moved to pull my mask up; Angélica grabbed my wrist and jerked my hand back down to my side. Right, no unmasking.

“It's hard to tell from this angle,” Guy said. “The guards seem pretty relaxed. I don't think they're expecting trouble.”

“You think we can sneak in?” Angélica asked.

“I think you and Gail might be able to.” Guy tilted his head and I wished I could see his expression under his mask. I imagined he was frowning. “Stealth approach. Try to get the antidote to . . .” He looked to me.

“Sam's the closest one to the door,” I said.

“If you give him the antidote, he'll react like I did. That could be enough of a distraction to get it to the others. They'll be focused on him,” Guy said.

“So we go in, we activate Sam, and . . . what? Brawl?” I asked.

“
We
brawl.” Guy gestured between Angélica and himself. “You—­”

“Don't you dare say, ‘Get to safety,' ” I said.

“You do your best to find Elwin Lucas and get him out of there. Be careful, though, Brook might be wandering around. She'll know he'd be your primary target.”

“Provided she's there at all,” Angélica said in a dark voice.

It wasn't a great plan, but if we could get the antidote to the heavy hitters in the cages, we evened the odds considerably. Raptor alone could fight off Tamara Diesel, given how many times the women had clashed over the years. So we had a chance.

I peered at the building next door. It was weather-­worn, years of exposure to the lake water and wind making it smell of mold and mildew. Four stories tall, it was open inside and, if Kiki's mental image was correct, full of ceiling-­high shelves packed with wooden crates. Not only would it smell foul, I knew, but there would be plenty for heroes and villains alike to fling at each other. I'd have to be careful and keep an eye on every axis.

“So,” I said as we studied the challenge that lay before us. “Your brother, your girlfriend, and my weird sugar-­mama mentor walk into a warehouse . . .”

Angélica groaned and shoved the heel of her hand into my forehead, pushing my head back. “I'm with her on this one,” Guy said when I looked to him for support, but he sounded amused. “Got any idea how you're going to sneak in?”

I studied the nearest wall. “There,” I said, pointing to a shattered window near the top. It was about forty feet off of the ground and that wasn't going to be a pleasant fall if I missed. “If we can land quietly enough, it'll get us onto a shelf inside. We can sneak around along those until we reach the cages. They're laid out three on the other side, two on this side. Sam'll be on the other side if they haven't moved him.”

“And Kiki?”

“In the cage next to Sam, if I had to guess. It's empty in the vision she sent,” I said. “Windrider's on the other side of her.”

“Well, when he gets loose, watch out for tornadoes.”

“Gotcha.”

“That leaves Raptor and Sharkbait on the near side,” Angélica said. “You focus on them. Can you sense Kiki at all?”

I shook my head. I wasn't even sure how to intentionally use my mental powers, but it felt like only me inside my head. Kiki would've been keeping a mental ear out for me, wouldn't she? All it told me was that they'd probably given her the Demobilizer.

“Of course it couldn't be that easy,” Angélica said, grumbling. “Blaze, you good on your end?”

Guy shrugged. His part of the plan involved laying low, waiting for Sam to get his powers back, and bursting in when all hell broke loose. I squeezed his hand as I pushed myself back away from the edge of the building. If I was going to hit that window without making a sound, I needed a running start. Angélica, much more used to her powers, merely trotted to the side of the building, took a readying breath, and phased right over. She hit the sill perfectly, balancing on the toes of those ridiculous red boots, and disappeared into the building without a backward glance. Once she was out of sight, I rolled my shoulders, bounced up on my toes a few times, and sprinted as hard as I could for the side of the building. I jumped and threw my weight forward, phasing and praying.

I miscalculated. I miscalculated badly.

Instead of landing as lightly as Angélica had, I missed the windowsill completely and phased right through the window, hurtling into the building. Daylight changed abruptly to darkness. I gritted my teeth and hoped whatever I slammed into had at least a little give.

Arms wrapped around my torso. Before I understood what was happening, I was phasing again, this time not under my own power. Angélica landed impossibly lightly atop the next set of shelves over.

Carefully, she set me down as I tried to get my breathing under control. She put her finger to her lips and began to creep along the shelves. Mercifully, they didn't groan under our weight, but my every sense remained on high alert. We were literally sneaking into a den full of supervillains. Somehow, this had become my life. It made me want to laugh a bit hysterically, but I swallowed that feeling down and followed her. The center of the warehouse was laid out in an open bay, but there were four rows of shelves to crawl across. We hopped lightly from row to row. Or rather, Angélica hopped lightly and caught me, as there was no way I could be accurate enough not to alert everybody within eight blocks that we were there. The smell of dust and mold made me want to sneeze, so I held my breath as best I could. Knowing my luck, I was bound to knock something over before we even made it halfway through the warehouse. At any second, some supervillain sentry could come soaring around the corner and see us in our bright bronze and red uniforms. Every shelf brought us closer and closer to danger. Every tiny noise we made was a gamble.

When the cages came into sight, I felt Angélica gasp, likely at seeing Kiki. She lay in the fifth cage, the back of her head pillowed on her hands, her feet crossed at the ankle. Completely relaxed. The rest of the heroes either paced or sat, arms folded over their chests. Jessie, in her Raptor gear, sat in a full lotus, eyes closed. She might actually be meditating, I realized. The cages didn't look enhanced—­just good old steel and padlocks—­so it was safe to say they'd been given the Demobilizer. Spotlights over each cage would make sneaking up all but impossible. We just had to hope for silence and luck.

Toward the back of the warehouse, I could see a ­couple of folding tables, one covered in snacks and a coffeemaker whose steam curled up into the air. Several men and women in dark clothing sat at the table beside it, hunched over in the cold, glaring at cards in their gloved hands. I didn't see Tamara Diesel or Elwin Lucas among them, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

Angélica gestured at the shelves on the other side of the cages and then at herself. I gave her a thumbs-­up. “Wish me luck,” she whispered, barely making a sound, and jumped.

One blink later, she was perched on the shelves above Kiki's cage. I gave her a little salute and began to climb down, ducking back among the crates to stay out of sight. The top two shelves proved a cinch, but right as I arrived near the bottom shelf, my boot scuffled off a loose board.

I watched it fall toward Shark-­Man's cage in horror.

For as much as we made fun of the man in gray who protected San Francisco, he definitely had superior reflexes. He stuck his arm out of the cage and caught the board before it could clatter to the ground. His eyes, an unnatural shade of red, looked up and met mine where I was dangling from a shelf ten feet up.

Neither of us breathed.

A villain in an oversized blue parka threw his cards down on the table. Across the shelves, I could see Angélica gawking at us. Shark-­Man's movement had drawn the attention of Windrider, Sam, and Kiki, too. Jessie continued to meditate. I waved frantically at the others and they did their best to resume acting naturally.

“I fold,” the villain said, and all of the heroes in the cages and I let out a breath as one.

Shark-­Man carefully set the board down as I scurried to the bottom level. “Who're you?” he hissed, turning back around to face forward.

“Not important. Take this.” I shoved the first vial of the antidote through the bars.

“I'm not drinking something from a stranger,” he said.

“As nice as it is to see lessons learned in kindergarten stuck, do you want your powers back or not?” I asked, watching the poker game and waiting for one of them to look up and notice me skulking behind the cage.

Shark-­Man's entire body jolted. Eagerly, he turned and reached for the vial.

“Not yet,” I said, though I handed it over. “Wait for the distraction.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of red by Sam's cage that had to be Angélica sneaking away, too. Sam, in the original War Hammer armor—­apparently he'd kept it, after all—­tilted his head back and swigged the antidote in one gulp.

Unfortunately, our luck ran out at that precise moment. As he lowered the vial, Tamara Diesel rounded the corner. She drew up short. “Where did you get that? What is it?”

A yank of her hand and the vial flew across the space, landing in her palm.

Sam stared defiantly at her for all of a split second before he collapsed onto the floor of his cage, coughing and convulsing the way Guy had. Angélica decided this was a moment to take advantage of: she sprang at Tamara.

“On second thought,” I said to Shark-­Man, “new plan. Drink it now.”

“But—­” He waved at Sam, who was writhing at the bottom of his cage. He had a point, but I was a little distracted by the poker players surging to their feet.

“Just do it!” I jumped off the shelf, ran across the top of Shark-­Man's cage, and launched myself after Angélica. The fighting wasn't supposed to begin until Sam's powers were back, but there wasn't any way I was letting Angélica face Tamara and her goons alone.

I landed on the balls of my feet and rolled, trying to jump up and knock Tamara's feet out from under her. She swept out an arm, flicking me away like a particularly annoying gnat. The telekinetic force sent me sliding toward the rent-­a-­villains racing at us. I scrambled to my feet. Crap. I hadn't even delivered the antidote to Jessie and I was supposed to be finding and rescuing Elwin Lucas, not fighting off lower-­tier henchmen. But needs must, I supposed.

They piled on, trying to overwhelm me with sheer numbers. I knocked the first man over with a jab to the solar plexus before he could get his arms around me, kicked the second in the crotch, and phased, smashing my elbow into the third one's neck, all within the space of a few heartbeats. Unfortunately, the fourth fighter proved faster than I had anticipated. Her haymaker caught me on the chin. I stumbled back, head ringing and my chin a white-­hot point of pain.

She swung again at the same time as an invisible force shoved against my side, flinging me across the open space in the center of the warehouse. My back slammed solidly into the bars of Jessie's cage. Tamara Diesel, who'd hit me, started to advance on me, only to be knocked to the side by a red blur. She let out a roar and chased after Angélica.

A second later, I felt something tug on the utility pouch at my hip and Jessie yanked out a small gray disc no bigger than a quarter. She slapped it over the lock on her cage. “Perfect, just what I needed. Much obliged.”