Megamatrix Hero Within (6 page)

"Fl-Fletcher?" Josh stammered, peering over the railing of the catwalk. "What are you doing here?"

“What am I—What are you doing here? Get down here now befor—”

The building shook and Fletcher paused in midsentence. He’d taken out a few of the beams that held up the ceiling when he’d landed, but this was something more than a structural problem. The ground itself wobbled like jelly.

The metal stairway groaned and gave way, bringing down the north wall with it. “Josh!” Fletcher screamed as he threw himself into the destruction. But there was no way he could reach his brother in time. The catwalk flipped upside down and Josh plummeted to the concrete, followed by tons of twisted metal.

The three remaining sheet metal walls of the garage were all leaning like a car with a flat tire. Outside the garage, behind the wall where his brother had been, stood Tremblor with a wide smile.

“Hey, Fletch-o,” the henchman called. “Thought you could use some help.”

CHAPTER 10

“What do you say? Race to see who can reduce this entire place to rubble first?” Tremblor challenged. “You got the roof, I got the wall, but there’s three more left.”

Fletcher pounced on his partner, taking Tremblor by surprise. The two tumbled backward across a dirt parking lot, Fletcher landing punch after punch to the other man’s head.

Tremblor instinctively fought back the only way he knew how. The ground beneath them shook like a broken washing machine on its spin cycle. Staying on Tremblor was like riding a bull in a rodeo, but with the strength of Korgus and agility of Liberty Torch, it was little challenge for Fletcher. The flurry of punches didn’t seem like they’d ever stop, even as Tremblor’s face came to resemble uncooked meatloaf more than a human.

Fletcher drew his fist back as high as he could and prepared to punch right through Tremblor’s skull and into the dirt. He wanted more than blood. He wanted to know Tremblor would pay the ultimate price for what he did to Josh.

But as he dropped his steel-hard hand toward the villain’s head, a chorus of voices screamed for him to stop. He jumped to his feet and spun to see behind him, ready to take on any more of Technein’s men who had followed Tremblor, but saw no one. After a thorough scan of the area, he wondered if he’d even heard the cry at all or if he’d imagined it.

He picked up Tremblor by two fists full of his collar and held his face close. “You get out of my town,” Fletcher warned him. “You’re lucky you’re not dead right now. You leave. Don’t bother to go home and pack. Just go. And if I ever see you in this city again, I
will
kill you.”

He dropped Tremblor, who crawled away until he could get to his feet and limpingly run away. Fletcher didn’t bother to watch him go, instead rushing to Josh.

Fletcher tossed aside sheet metal and the twisted remains of the catwalk. He dropped to his knees to be closer to his brother. “What happened? One minute we pulled in and then as soon as I got upstairs, the place exploded.” Josh whispered. “Was that Tremblor?”

“Yeah, it was. I guess he did this,” Fletcher lied. “I came as soon as I heard. Now I’m going to get you out of here and we’re going to patch you up—”

“I can’t feel my legs, Fletch,” his brother breathed.

One look was all Fletcher needed to know that was probably a good thing. Josh’s legs bent in odd directions in places where he didn’t have joints.

“Don’t worry, Josh. You’re going to be fine.”

Josh wasn’t supposed to be here. He was at home reading a text book about Ancient Rome or playing on that video game console Fletcher had bought. Fletcher had done everything he’d done to make sure Josh would be safe, to make sure he wouldn’t ever have to worry about getting hurt or killed by some...

By some superpowered idiot trying to impress Technein.

Fletcher didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t take his brother to a hospital. No one there would treat a Revolutionary, and if Technein found out Fletcher had brought a Revolutionary to the hospital—a Revolutionary who was his brother no less—they’d both be killed...and most likely by the "doctors" themselves who often did whatever they had to in order to keep Technein happy. Besides a neighborhood clinic wasn’t going to be able to treat these kinds of wounds.

There was only one place that might be able to help.

“This might hurt a little,” Fletcher warned Josh as he gently scooped his brother into his arms. Blocking out his brother’s screams, he closed his eyes and concentrated on flying.

Slowly and gently, he descended through the entrance to the cave beneath the ruins of the Global Defenders’ headquarters.

The hologram of Android 7 seemed surprised to see them, or as surprised as an android’s hologram was programmed to seem.

Fletcher laid his brother beside the blue pillar and hopped to his feet. He pulled open the panel to get another of the Megamatrix’s hockey puck-like interfaces.

“I need your help,” Fletcher yelled at the Android. “I need to download some powers into my brother. Something that will help him. Maybe Korgus’s toughness. Or can Lord Trident perform any kind of underwater magic healing spell?”

“You have already downloaded those powers into yourself,” Android 7 reminded him. “There is nothing left.”

“Then transfer whatever he needs out of me and put it into him,” Fletcher offered.

“Once the power has been installed into a new host, it cannot be removed with this technology. The extraction process required another process. This machine only distributes the powers.”

“The Megamatrix has been kept alive on batteries in standby mode for thirteen years,” Android 7 explained. “There was only power enough to download seven members’ powers. We chose the seven most powerful members and made them available for the good of all humanity.”

Fletcher stared at the blue pillar, as if some miraculous solution might spring from it at any moment.

“I am sorry, but there is nothing to be done for your brother here,” Android 7 said.

Tears welled up in Fletcher’s eyes as reality sank in. He sat down beside his brother, who reached up to hold Fletcher’s hand.

“I know you think I was stupid to join Miguel and the Revolution,” Josh whispered. “But if I’m going to die, at least I know I was trying to make things better. You thought Dad was a sucker for doing the same thing.”

“No, no, no,” Fletcher comforted.

“Maybe he was. Maybe I’m a sucker, too. But I was making a difference.”

Except he wasn’t, Fletcher thought. Even Miguel admitted the Revolution was a lost cause, at least as it stood now. “The Revolution’s not going to change anything unless they get some real muscle,” Fletcher said. “Someone who can stand up to guys like Napalm and Technein.”

Fletcher shot a look at Android 7, who seemed to be staring back knowingly. Of course, Android 7’s face was unable to express emotions, but Fletcher could gather what he was thinking nonetheless.

“Good luck finding someone like that,” Josh said with a weak laugh. And as the laugh faded, so did Fletcher’s brother.

CHAPTER 11

Fletcher wasn't ready to join the Revolution. For that matter, he doubted the Revolution would accept him after what he'd just done to their garage and their truck. Instead, he found himself speaking to the only person he thought might listen.

Napalm sat up straight in his chair and rubbed his chin, unsure what to say next. "I... I can't imagine how you feel right now. It's probably best if you head home and get some rest. You did a great job tonight." Napalm threw a stack of money across the desk. "Why don't you take a little down time and tomorrow we'll have a job--"

"Tomorrow?" Fletcher blurted. "I can't--You want me to come back tomorrow?"

"Well, not until the evening. Take some time for yourself."

"I can't do this tomorrow," Fletcher cried. "I can't do this anymore. I thought... I guess I didn't think. I didn't think about who all I was hurting."

"Oh, there there," Napalm comforted, getting out of his chair and coming around the desk. He took Fletcher's face in his hands and looked into the boy's eyes. "I know this is difficult for you, but you need to remember one thing."

Fletcher blinked his teary eyes and looked up at Napalm. "What's that?"

Napalm shoved two of his fingers into Fletcher's mouth, then pressed his thumb up against the soft fleshy part beneath his jaw. "You think it's that easy to quit? Let me make this clear. You belong to us now," Napalm snarled, leaning into Fletcher's face as the boy tried to struggle away. "And before you try anything, we all know you're pretty tough on the outside, but I'm guessing if I explode my hand right now, you're not so tough on the inside. Should we find out?"

Fletcher stopped struggling.

"Now, as I was saying, tomorrow I have a job for you. Bring that big ball and chain you love so much."

Fletcher carefully considered his options, not the least of which was thanking Mr. Napalm, grabbing the stack of cash, and showing up the next day ready for work with a great big smile. He couldn't fly away, and turning invisible when someone has his hand locked onto your jaw is pointless. He only saw one way out.

In a flash, Fletcher disappeared. Napalm fell forward without the boy to lean on any longer, but caught himself before he fell onto his face. He stood up and scanned the room, but saw nothing.

Usually, when Fletcher changed size, he tried to do it gradually. Going from five-foot-ten to a fraction of an inch in a half a second will give you a splitting headache, but considering the headache Napalm was threatening, Fletcher made the right choice.

As he tried to hold his brains in his skull, Fletcher watched the frantic Napalm search the room, completely overlooking the edge of the desk where he'd fallen. In Napalm's defense, however, Fletcher did look like a fleck of dust when he was that size.

"Kid, wherever you are in here, I'll find you," Napalm threatened. "If I have to blow myself up and burn down everything in this room to do it, I will. You're invisibility's not going to save you from that."

Fletcher had to act fast. And as badly as shrinking fast would give him a headache, returning to normal quickly made him want to throw up. Fortunately, when Fletcher magically appeared standing on the edge of the mahogany desk, Napalm was more preoccupied with looking at the giant ball and chain being swung at his head than he was Fletcher's nauseous face.

Napalm dealt with the threat of the five hundred pound weight swinging at his head the way he did most problems--by exploding. Flames shot up to the ceiling and the blast knocked Fletcher backward into Napalm's plush office chair, but the ball and chain sailed through the inferno without doing any harm.

Fletcher had to change tactics. He only had a moment before Napalm reformed and could explode again. There was no way to fight him. Ball and chain, punches, kicks, nothing could land and hurt him. Fletcher's only option was to get away. He stood and turned invisible, ready to run out the front door in complete silence.

Instead, pain wracked his body.

Fletcher fell backward into the chair again, clutching his chest. He felt like the device that had burrowed its way into his sternum was rethinking that decision. He panted and clawed at the device, wishing it would make up its mind.

"So, you must be Fletcher," said a nasally voice from the doorway. Fletcher turned to see Technein, his hand reaching out toward the device. "I'd always hoped our first meeting would be under better circumstances."

CHAPTER 12

As the pain surged through him, Fletcher struggled to lift himself out of the chair, but didn't have the energy. He slumped back down and tried to summon his ball and chain, but had no luck. He tried to shrink, he tried to grow, but neither worked. He even tried to flick a paperclip at Technein's eye with Archer's deadly accuracy, but only managed to clumsily flip it onto the carpet.

His powers were gone.

"I suspected as much," Technein bragged. "I told Napalm that no one could have so many powers naturally. Didn't I tell you?"

Napalm's reforming body nodded carefully.

Four of Technein's security agents came around their boss and through the doorway. "I'm neutralizing his power," he assured them. "Pick him up and move him to the couch."

Fletcher couldn't even begin to fight them off. It took everything he had not to fall to the floor in a shuddering, spasming mass. He craned his face toward the sky and let out a scream of agony that died in his parched throat. He swore he heard a heavenly choir sing to him, calling him to come to them, and he wondered if this was what it was like to die.

Each of the four guards grabbed one of his limbs and hoisted him to the leather couch near the door to Napalm's private lavatory. Technein stood over Fletcher and tore his shirt open. He examined the device on Fletcher's chest like a jeweler inspecting a rare gem.

"You can tell by the markings on here that this is an old piece of technology," Technein observed. "Ten, maybe fifteen years old. Where did you find this?"

Fletcher obviously couldn't answer.

"I'm guessing it has a bunch of different powers in it. You wear it around and can do whatever it has in there."

Technein wasn't exactly right, but Fletcher couldn't correct him. The powers weren't in the device in his chest. It was only the interface that allowed him to access them.