The Push Chronicles (Book 3): Incorruptible (25 page)

Chapter 26 Funeral

It was remarkable how few of us had died that day.  In a way, it upset me that so few of the creators of the crisis had paid any real price when so many normal people had.  Still, to be honest, I don't know how many funerals I could have taken and that selfish part of me was glad that I would only have to bury one friend today.

No one had wanted to wait a week to bury Medusa.  Not me, certainly not Hexagon, and most of all not her family.  The family that I had never had a chance to meet before now, hidden away like so many other families of the Pushed, and I would have to meet them, face them, tell them how their daughter died saving my life.  I scrubbed my face with cold water, trying to reassure myself that I had made the right choice for the tenth time this week.

While we hadn't wanted to, we had little choice in the matter.  The past seven days had been an endless flurry of activity, debriefing, accusation, and reconstruction.  Even the three days I had spent in the hospital recovering contained little rest, at least not for my mind or spirit, as I was bombarded with constant visitors from the military, from the FBI, from the Department of Homeland Security ... it was endless.

I looked in the mirror and sighed.  The gray was spreading quickly beyond a few stray hairs.  Was I vain enough to get that touched up?  Should I do it anyway just to present a strong public image?  I flipped open the medicine cabinet and stared at the now-barren shelves.  My first act when I got back to my apartment here at the Brooks-Choi Foundation was to swipe every pill bottle into a trash bag and hand it over to Duane for disposal.  I couldn't stand that temptation and, besides, it was time to clear out the past.

I popped an antibiotic from the sole remaining bottle in the cabinet and took a deep breath.  I had to finish getting ready.  The funeral procession was only an hour away and I wanted to be ready well ahead of time.

Even through the morass of government activity, there had been a few chances to check up with most of my friends and allies in the aftermath of things, usually with the Human Tank at my side.  Tank had really walked away from that final battle in the best shape of all of us and, with Mind's Eye still recovering from strain and exhaustion, he wound up hanging around me quite often.  Really, in retrospect, Tank was the unsung hero of the story.  We would be attending four funerals today instead of one if not for him.

I gingerly slid into a fresh uniform, doing my damnedest not to aggravate any of my numerous injuries.  Rachel had been the one to decide that the funeral procession needed to be a big, flashy public event.  We had an argument over it but, in the end, she had made a strong case.  After all, the truly impressive occupation force, far more insidious than the Crusaders or the U.S. Army, was now the world media.  After over a month of isolation and drama, everyone wanted to know anything and everything about what had happened.  Rachel had realized that the media would be out in force anyway so why not take control of the situation and at least have some input into how they dealt with it.

I walked over to the barren dresser.  It too was swept clean save for my mask and the spirit gum.  For now, that was all I needed.

Epic might or might not be at the funeral.  We had only seen each other once or twice outside of government functions.  Understandably, he was at the center of all the inquiries and I had more questions asked about him then about my own direct role in the invasion and the aftermath.

How could you blame them?  No matter the reason and no matter his current intent, Eric had started this.  All of this.  The real quandary for them lay in what options they had.  They couldn't harm him, they couldn't realistically imprison him, and they damn sure couldn't let him run completely wild.  I only hoped Eric didn't tumble back to where he had been, especially so soon after reaching his own personal epiphany.

I picked up my mask and stared at it in my gloved hands.  That was my life now, the woman in the mask not the one behind it, but I was content with that.  This time, I had chosen it, embraced it, and in that way I was sure I could keep it from suffocating Irene Roman out of existence.  It's not like I hadn't been offered an out.  Both the FBI and Homeland Security were very plain that they would have loved to have me working for them in a much more low-key position.  Indomitable could have disappeared forever.

We had already seen how badly things had gone to shit without the two lynchpins to hold it all up.  I wasn't going to thumb my nose at the Whiteout again and see if we could really end the world this time.  No.  Indomitable wasn't going away, at least not until I just couldn't do the job anymore.

I wondered if this messed-up reality would let that happen.

The spirit gum took hold as I pressed the mask into place and I felt strangely whole once more.

"Irene?" Quentin called from the hallway.  "The convoy is about ready to roll out."  He and Frost were also quartered here at the Foundation for the short term.  Voltage, well, that was complicated.  I still didn't quite understand the whys or the hows, it was all Pushtech mumbo-jumbo, but Archer explained it best that somehow Alma and Vee had become 'entangled' when he focused himself through her crystal form.  At least they were both alive.

"Yeah, I'm coming."  I pulled out the black armband from the top drawer and pulled it up over my bicep.  Opening the door, I could see that Quentin looked as haggard as I had in the mirror, but he still had that vague smirk on his lips.

"Now that I'm graced with your presence, we can get this whole depressing show on the road."  He offered me his arm and I shot him a glare.  "So no love for the guy who pulled you out of your out-of-time trip?"

I didn't take his arm, but I did give the man in black a heartfelt embrace.

"Thanks, Quentin."

"No, thank you!"  As I pulled back, he smiled and began to stroll.  "You know, I kept my lips sealed about that like you asked but you never told me what the hell that was about."

"Just a ghost of a very bitter man offering one last temptation."

"If you say so, but you know I don't believe in ghosts."

"Quentin, let me tell you about the undead ..."

You would have thought we were burying the President with the turn-out on the city streets.  I had expected something, but not quite what I saw as the procession moved slowly from the funeral home to Westview Cemetery.  Certainly, the month spent under the Crusader boot had kept some at bay, but The March (as it came to be known as) that helped end it had emboldened many people and many more simply knew that Medusa had died to give them back their freedom.

It had been my idea that we walk out in the open, alongside the slow-moving hearse, all of the remaining Atlanta Five, Archer, and myself.  If this was going to be a show, I figured we should at least show all of our colors.  Medusa's, no, Esperanza's mother, father, and uncle rode behind, with Rachel, Duane, Alma, and the others bringing up the rear as a kind of honor guard, while the restored Captain Joe Braxton led the police escort personally ahead of us.

I don't honestly remember much of the procession itself.  For me, it was a mechanical thing, to just keep those feet moving towards our goal.  It let my mind sink into remembering Meds as she was in life.  It shocked me to realize we had only known each other for four months and yet had bonded so quickly and completely.  Every moment was burned into my memory.  The effort it took to not stop and break down right then and there was tremendous.  I know it wasn't a burden I carried alone.

The only thing I do distinctly remember was, in the crowds lining the street, the sight of Stephanya, Kathy, and her now-freed husband, Bob.  As we passed by, Steph gave me a bittersweet smile as the couple huddled close together, Kathy waving at me with the vigor of youth.  I tried to match that vigor and forced a smile, not so hard for that one moment.  My promise there had been kept and Esperanza would have been happy to see that family put back together.  With Meds pushing back into my thoughts, I turned away before my smile cracked and we moved ever onward.

As for Epic, it seemed all the tangle of government oversight would allow him to do was an overflight, a sign of support for a few moments before he disappeared into the clear blue skies once more.

"When Medusa ... Esperanza's mother asked me, when we arrived, to say a few words in eulogy of our fallen friend, I was hesitant at first," I began.  Already I was forced to wipe at my eyes.  "I knew her for such a short time in comparison to those of you here who had known her all of her life.  How could I speak for her when there were others so much more qualified?"

Thank God Rachel and Duane had made it their priority, even in the course of recovering from their own wounds accumulated in escaping Battalion's squad, to take charge of planning and securing the funeral itself.  Despite the looming presence of paparazzi and media in the far distance, we had some privacy here.

Fray Justicia, who to no surprise of mine really was a Catholic priest, had offered to perform the religious end of the service to the thanks of the Martinez family.  When we had finally spoke, I was surprised to find out just how much they knew about me, no matter how much Meds had not told me about them.

"Still, they insisted.  Maria, her mother, enforced upon me how her daughter had said she had never felt more alive than these past few months, no matter the burdens the life we lead had placed on her.  She also said that no one else who knew Esperanza as well could also understand what it meant to be a Push Hero.  No one else could say what needed to be said."  I smiled faintly at Maria.  "Thank you for this chance."

Alongside the family in the front row, Henry, Hex, tried to contain his grief.  Maria and Luis, Meds' father, had been fully aware of the relationship Hex and Meds had shared and had graciously welcomed him to be among the family for today.  Behind them was arrayed all of my other friends, my own family.

Extinguisher, no stranger to having to bury his friends and teammates, seemed to be the center holding the others up.  Despite her usual stoicism, Mind's Eye seemed completely overwhelmed, Tank having a soothing arm over her shoulders.  Maybe the overwhelming grief around the psychic was too much for her to shut out.  Archer sat with them, carefully wiping at his tears with a handkerchief.  Duane and Rachel had to be around somewhere though I thought it as likely they were wrangling with security issues as much as being right here at the service.

In the back was the remainder of those invited, namely Alma, Quentin, Frost, Twister, and the Mighty Polymer.  In a sense, you couldn't name Alma without including Voltage anymore, as he hovered above her crystalline form, tethered to her like some electric ghost.  Quentin tried to keep up a kind of stoic tough-guy front, but I caught a surreptitious wiping of the eyes here and there.  Frost was the one who passed a box of tissues up and down their aisle, especially for Polymer, who couldn't seem to stop crying.  Twister, the old lawman, simply had his hat in his lap, head bowed respectfully.

"I know enough Spanish to understand that Esperanza
means hope and, in many ways, that is what Medusa embodied.  At some of the darkest points in these past four months, she would be there with her bright smile and encouraging words, propping me up when I was about to collapse.  Meds didn't do that just for me, she did that for everyone she met and everyone she called a friend."  The grief came on in one huge surge and for a good minute I couldn't continue.

"I'm sorry."  I took a deep breath and managed to collect myself.  "What I mean to say is that she was my best friend and probably the person who understood me most of all, even when I tried my best to keep everyone away, to keep in my own bitter little world.  Despite that, she found a way in and, without her, I can't say for sure if I would have held myself together to do the things that needed to be done for this city, for the world.  For that and the love she gave me and so many others, I will eternally be in her debt."

I stood there a moment, emotions reeling, wondering what more I could say.  Should I try to come up with more?  I didn't know and, in the end, I stepped back from the portable podium.  There weren't enough words nor enough time to say enough to truly honor Medusa's memory and I had to accept that.

Chapter 27 Future

"Here's to Meds!"

Extinguisher raised his pint of beer to toast and we all followed suit, clinking glasses together in a clatter of glass and crystal.  At first, I thought it was a minor miracle that Rachel had managed to get the bar to turn itself over for this private party of sorts.  When the barkeeper had told me how I and the Five had saved the life of his family from a Pushed arsonist, well, the bar's sudden availability made perfect sense.

"So ..." the firefighter started hesitantly.  "I don't want to be Pushy McPusherton but ... has anyone started to think about, well, where we go from here?"

"I was not aware that was a question to be considered," Mind's Eye said, sipping at her own beer.  I hadn't really pegged Mind for a beer person, but I had never seen her imbibe before.  "Will things not progress as they have?  We may be ... diminished ... but ..."

"Well, y'all might be a bit out of the loop," Twister said, "but there's a heaping pile of changes coming down around all of us."

"Yeah," Polymer added, her voice just a bit above a whisper, "like ... the Crusaders are disbanding.  So, like, most of us don't even know what we're gonna do."

"This is exactly why I'm bringing this up now."  Ex scanned the room.  "We have to be ready for the future and there's no reason not to start now.  I, for one, am not going to stop doing what we do because of this.  Hell, there probably wouldn't be a city left if it wasn't for us."

"I ain't so sure any more about all of that," Hexagon mumbled.  Henry had hit the booze hard since we had arrived here and six more pints of beer were rapidly depleting, one in each arm.  "But ... all of that said ... I'm still with you.  For Meds."

I frowned at Hex but I didn't have a right to tell him to stop.  Archer clasped my shoulder.  It was a good feeling.

"I would think my own lack of awareness speaks for my intentions."  The Indian psychic finished her beer, setting the glass neatly on the bar with her mind.  "We must not falter in the face of loss."

"Ditto!"  It was the shortest thing I had ever heard Tank say but it still held all of his exuberance in that one word.

"Well, just so you guys don't feel like you're lonely," Quentin called out from behind the bar, "Frost and I, at least, are staying in the game.  Detroit was a mess before the Whiteout and now it really needs a helping hand."  The barkeep hadn't objected to having an expert hand help him out with this particularly large and diverse group.  "Of course, boss man, that means we have a bit of a draft issue on our hands."

"When are you going to tell them, milady?"  Archer kept his voice low as he whispered in my ear.

"Soon."

Unburdened by our own private conversation, Ex arched an eyebrow at Quentin.

"I'm not following you."

"Well, I'm sure you noticed our chocolate is in your peanut butter."

Alma was delicately drinking a margarita through a straw, trying not to inadvertently cut the plastic with her faceted lips as Voltage, tethered to her body, was tossing peanuts into his electric maw.  Her once-shattered arm was still forging itself back together, bonded by whatever Pushtech glue Tank had come up with during that terrible battle.  As one unit, they both looked away from their respective occupations to focus on the attention now laid on them.

"I don't think that's the right way to look at it, Quentin," Vee buzzed.  "We- I did what I had to do and it doesn't look like it's going to be undone anytime soon."

"I'm sorry for what happened and I'm grateful Vee risked his life for me.  I only wish I could fix it and give him his own life back."

"Well, ma'am, if it's any consolation, it's still more private than when I was in the military."

"Okay, factors of privacy aside," Ex shook his head, "I see what Quentin is on about.  You guys are one deal now.  Alma, I know you said, before all this went bad, that you wanted to join us.  You still up for that?"

"Come on now," I finally said, "you can't expect her, after all this trauma, to just make up her mind like that.  They are fused, man, we don't even know how badly."

"It's okay, Dr. Roman."  Alma glanced up at Voltage, then back at the room.  "We've, uh, talked about this a lot.  I mean, how could we not, we're stuck together right?"  She smiled like it was a joke.

"What Alma's getting at is that there's no way for either of us to lead a normal life, ma'am."  Vee's form distorted and shifted.  "So we're going to at least do what we can to help others who can."

"All I'll say, you two, is that I bake cookies."  Quentin smirked.  Frost reached over with her good arm, the broken one in a sling, and whapped the short-order cook in the head.

"Quentin!"  Her rumble was quite intimidating.  "Let them decide for themselves where they want to go."

"But ... cookies?"

The author-turned-dragon only replied with another rumble.

There was an echoing, airy clearing of a throat and Alma raised her voice.

"We've already decided all of that, regardless of the fantastic bribery."  She looked at Ex.  "Please don't be offended, but you have to see that they need a lot more help in Detroit than you need here in Atlanta."

The firefighter didn't scowl, instead he had a big grin as he nodded.

"As much as I'd love to have you on the team, both of you, I think that's the right decision.  Plus, well, who can beat an offer of cookies?"

"Perhaps now?"

I contemplated elbowing Archer.  Sure, he was probably right.  Rightly annoying, that is.

"No, besides, Twister's talking."  Hopefully the whispered aside had the right tone to get him to lay off just a bit.  He shrugged and sipped at his glass of wine.

"Very well, milady."

I nodded slightly and tried to catch up to what the lawman was saying.

"... going back into law enforcement myself, but I think I can point you towards someone who can help y'all out with Ms. Alma leaving and Ms. Esperanza's passing."  He nudged Polymer in the shoulder which deformed under the pressure.  "Go on now, missy, ask 'em."

"Uh, well, you see, Mr. Extinguisher, with there not really being a team for me anymore, I was wondering if, maybe, I could work with you instead?"  She shyly smiled, especially at Tank.  "I promise, I'll follow orders and all of that, whatever you want!"

Ex arched an eyebrow uncertainly.

"I think it'd be great 'cause she's really strong and tough and can turn into things and stretch and no one on the team can do that so it'd really let us do even more stuff and plus she's really fun to hang out with and please!"  Tank put on his best puppy dog eyes.

"I believe it would be for the best.  Besides, I can ensure you that I will keep an eye on the both of them."  Mind's Eye betrayed a small smile as she went back to her beer.

"Alright, sure, why not?  What trouble can two hyper teenagers get into that one couldn't?"

There was a general cheer from the two youngsters as Rachel and Duane finally made their way through the front door.  I finished off the whiskey-and-soda I had been nursing for the last ten minutes and walked up to them.

"You know, I'm not sure I'll get used to this," Rachel said as I approached.  "Seeing the world both ways.  Very disorienting."

"Eh, I like seeing things how they really are myself."  Duane popped a piece of nicotine gum in his mouth.  "Hey Doc, how's the party going?"

Both of them were still more bandage than person, Rachel especially with an eye-patch over her right eye.  They had both played very close to their chest with the specifics of how they had escaped from Battalion's goon squad and I hadn't yet been in the mood to press.  The important thing, though, was the other project we had been colluding on this past week.

"Well, we're past sobbing into our beer for the most part and now it's like draft day."  I glanced back to where Archer was still sipping his wine and watching at the periphery.  "Archer has been bugging me to tell them but I didn't want to until, well, we knew for sure."

Duane and Rachel exchanged short glances.

"Yeah, Doc, it's on."

"It took some radical new applications of good cop, bad cop but yes, it's all been arranged."  Rachel's expression softened.  "Are you really sure about this?"

"It's how is has to be, at least for now, and you, Super-Planner, know that."

"I think Architect would have a better ring to it."

"You are both nuts if you think I'm going to get in a costume, get some crazy-ass codename.  Shit, a suit and a shotgun and I'm done."

"Well, whatever, that's up to you."  I smirked.  "Just remember, Duane, if you don't name yourself, the media will take care of that for you."  I glanced at the discussion starting to die down.  "I better get this over with."

"Yeah, and I better get a beer.  Rachel?"

"A Bloody Mary."  Choi gave me another glance.  "Good luck."

I turned back to my fellows, while the two partners decided to crash Hex's one-man drinking party.  Good, some engagement would help him out.

"Well, that seems to be settled," Ex smiled then glanced at me as I came back, Archer falling in behind me.  "Well, mostly.  How are those two doing?  I still want to thank them for all of this, especially when they are so banged up."

"Not too bad.  I think they're trying to cheer Henry up but they'll make the rounds."  I took a deep breath and almost as if on cue the rest of the crowd grew silent.  Ex, I figured, could read my body language but the rest?  Well, I guess I should be used to people waiting on my words by now.

"I, well, we're talking about futures and all of that."  I glanced at Archer and he gave me a supportive nod.  "So, I think it's important that you guys know that I'm leaving Atlanta."

It was Extinguisher who had his hand up for silence before anyone could say a word, even though I could see a thousand questions on his own face.  With barely a murmur to stop me, I continued on.

"I love you guys.  You're my friends, hell, you're the only family I have.  That makes this even harder than it would be already because Atlanta is my home."  I glanced out the large clear panes of the front windows, out on the city streets.  "I've lived here most of my life, educated myself here, made both of my careers here."  To my surprise, I realized I was starting to cry, but I pressed on.

"These past four months though, every bad thing, every wound physical and psychic, they're all tied up in here.  I can't pass a street corner without remembering some battle, some injury, some death.  Medusa ... that was just the last straw."

"Indomitable ... Irene ... we could help you.  Soothe the pain.  Overcome the memories."  It was a rare moment of raw emotion from Mind's Eye and it hurt all the more to have to deny it.

"If that was it, maybe I'd consider that.  Maybe you'd be right, Mind."  Archer's hand was back on my shoulder, supporting and comforting.  "But there's something more.  Bigger."

"Epic, huh?"  It didn't surprise me that Quentin was the first to figure it out.

"Right."  I looked between my friends, all wanting the answers to this, and continued.  "What you saw, Epic being turned back to the straight and narrow, the disbanding of the Crusaders," I nodded to Polymer and Twister, "that's just the beginning.  Eric ... he's still on the fence.  He's not completely changed.  There's no telling if he will stay on this path if he's on his own.  To be honest, Eric might never be, well, 'fixed'.  Not entirely."

"The government, the military, they all share that assessment," Rachel chimed in, stirring the blood-red drink with its requisite stalk of celery.  "They also know they can't do jack to Epic really.  Any prison sentence, any punishment, only sticks as long as he lets it.  Besides, there's a surge of good press in the aftermath of this.  A lot of people have forgotten that he started it and are laying the blame at the feet of the more extreme factions of what was once the Crusaders."

"Battalion and his goons are now thought to be forming into some new vigilante group.  No one's quite sure what Doc Bio or Gaslight will do.  There's more too.  More than enough to turn this back into the same shit-storm."  Duane drained his beer after his addition to the conversation.

"So we went to the bigwigs at Homeland Security, the ones pushing double-hard for Push registration, and gave them an idea," I continued.  "But that idea ... they won't do it without me on board."

"Aye," Archer said, "what milady is saying is that the government is willing to let Epic go free and even support him but with oversight.  They wish to have those around him to not only raise Lord Epic higher but be capable of putting him in his place if he dare fall back down once more."

"What about us?" Ex asked.  "I don't mean that in a pity party sense but ... why not sign us all up for this?  I mean, I think we'd do a pretty good job and then you don't have to leave."

"Ex, honey."  The affection wasn't faked.  Even if we could never be together like that, I still had a place in my heart for the man.  "I would ... but I need you here.  I need to know my hometown is safe."  I tried to find a way to put my next statement gently.  "More importantly ..."

"More importantly, Irene wants a group tough enough and powerful enough outside to step in if she fails and this all falls apart."  Rachel Choi, diplomat.  Give her a round of applause.