The Suns of Liberty: Legion: A Superhero Novel (7 page)

     “So let them. We’ve just as much right to be here as
they do.”

      And with that—
flash!
—she was gone. In fact, by
the time Becky finished letting out her sigh of frustration, Fiona was already
in Cleveland.

CHAPTER 7

T
he
house in Cleveland was in an older neighborhood that had once been an
upper-middle-class section of town. Now it was old and dilapidated. The house
itself was a classic two-story A-frame, with a big porch and a swing. Or at
least what used to be a swing.  It had long since broken from its chains, and
the rotting carcass was left crumbling on the porch.

     Fiona had materialized, glowing in the chartreuse
power of the Fire Fly, on the front walk that led to the stairs. If anyone
noticed her, they made no fuss. She marched to the front door and passed
through.

     A millisecond before she moved her molecules through
the door, she disappeared. It was so fast it appeared she just passed through,
like a ghost. But in order for her to pass through solid objects, she had to
phase into the end of the luminescent spectrum that corresponded to
x-radiation. The kind of light that is invisible to the human eye. It had taken
her a while to get the hang of it. Windows and the places visible light could go
were still so much easier. But she was getting better at the ghost thing.

     On the other side of the door she materialized but
remained invisible. She passed through the small entryway and hung a left
through the front living area, into a long hallway. She passed the concrete
room where the naked man was chained to the wall. And finally she got to the
back den where three members of the gang were hanging out and Kimberly Connors
was being held. 

     The three were taking turns playing video games,
smoking pot, and watching the girl. One was fat, one was tall, and one was just
plain ugly. None of them looked like guys you’d want to bring home to mom. They
all had shaved heads, and a swastika flag hung on one wall right next to an old
flag of the Confederacy.    

     The very sight of it boiled anger through Fiona’s mind.
She had no tolerance for intolerance.

     Fiona strolled into the room and flashed to life in
front of them.

     “Oh shit!” the tallest one yelled. All three lunged
for their pistols. From the terrified expressions on their faces, they knew
exactly who she was and probably what she was capable of.

    
Well, some of what I’m capable of
, she thought.

     “Let the girl go,” Fiona said. “Or I will boil your
eyeballs in your brains.”
Wow.
That was impressive. And on the fly too.
Anger
can make you pretty creative,
she thought.

     The three moved as one. They all simultaneously moved their
pistols to aim at Kimberly’s head.

     Didn’t see that coming. Who knew these potheads would
have discipline and coordination?           

     “Fuck you, man! You can’t take us all down. I heard
you move at the speed of sound or some shit, right? But not with all three of
us you can’t.”

     “Yeah,” added the fat one .“You might stop one of us,
but you ain’t stopping us all.”

     Time for new tactics. “I really like what you’ve done
with the place. What style were you going for? Early dipshit?”

     The three geniuses glanced at each other, confused,
and then the taller of the three blinked and his face turned red. He started to
speak but Fiona cut him off.

     “I tell you what, since this is my birthday and I’m
feeling generous, I’m gonna give you three fine gentlemen a break.”

     And with that she was gone.

     “Don’t fucking move!” the tall one breathed to the
others. “Not ‘til we know the bitch has gone.”  Kimberly just whimpered. The
first sound she had made since Fiona had entered the house.

     And Fiona heard it of course, because by now she was
standing right behind the three thugs. Invisible.

     She held out her hands and fired a beam from each.
From her right hand, where she had more control, she split the beam so that it
penetrated the backs of two of the thugs. With her left, she sent a single,
more powerful beam into the heart of the taller, more mouthy asshole.

     And then she turned up the heat. And materialized.

     Not only did the beams burn instantaneous holes in the
three men’s chest, but they were also focused on the three guns the thugs held.
To get the angle right for all three, it took a great deal of concentration.
The effect was to incinerate the guns the instant she incinerated their hearts.
That way, even if the men’s reflex reaction in their death throes was to
squeeze their triggers, the guns would be burned to oblivion before they could
do it.

     Blood, tissue, and other gore exploded from the gaping
holes left in the men’s chests and from their severed wrists, which were burned
away along with their weapons. It sloshed all over Kimberly, who screamed in
mortal terror. She collapsed to the floor and scampered toward the corner of
the room, terrified even of Fiona.

     “I’m the Fire Fly, Kimberly. Your sister sent me here
to save you. You’re okay now.”

     Kimberly peered up at Fiona through her blood-stained
face and meekly breathed, “Really?”

     “Really.” Fiona looked down at the thugs, blood
pooling around their bodies. “Becky’s not going to be happy about this. But I
think they look better that way, don’t you?” Fiona frowned at the gory corpses.
“And its light speed, dumb ass. I move at light speed.”

     Kimberly started to cry again.

     “Be right back.”

     She flashed into the room with the young man. He was
badly hurt, and she saw fresh wounds that were still bleeding. Fiona instantly
cauterized all his cuts, which also brought him back to consciousness.

     She’d seen enough gang signs in Boston to know a
gang-related tattoo when she saw one. The Resistance had been obsessed with
tracking them, convinced the gangs in Boston worked for the Freedom Council.
Many gangs used colors, others used body art. In Boston they tended to use
both.  “You in a gang, Romeo?” Fiona asked him.

     “No.”

     Fiona narrowed her eyes.

     “I mean, yeah,” he said, bowing his head.

     She looked down between his legs. “Cold in here, huh,
big fella?”

     “Yeah.”

     It was, actually. The concrete trapped the morning’s
coolness, or they were pumping air in there on purpose to torment the poor guy.

     “Well, I’m letting you out and letting you live on one
condition. You tell your boys that they had better protect that girl in the
other room and her family. If you don’t, if I hear anything has happened to any
of them, I’ll come back here and do to you all what I’ve done to those racist
assholes in the other room.” Fiona peered right down into his eyes. “You feel
me?”

     “Yeah, yeah, I feel ya,” he grunted.

     Fiona burned away his cuffs.

     She retreated back into the den where Kimberly was
still curled into the corner. “Come on, honey. It’s time to get you to your
sister.”

     Fiona led her outside, where a few folks had now
gathered. It seemed her arrival had drawn some attention, after all. “All right,
I need you not to move a muscle, okay?”

     Kimberly nervously nodded her head.

     “Don’t be afraid, this will just last a second.” Fiona
squinted and reconsidered. “Maybe it’s best you just close your eyes. Don’t
move a muscle,” she repeated. Her hands flew up and she opened her palms wide.
Beams of light shot out and a wide field of light surrounded Kimberly on all
sides. 

    
Flash!

     “Okay, you can open them now.”

     They were standing in the middle of the Palace at Lake Tahoe.

     It had taken exactly one second.

     Kimberley was completely thrown, not sure what she was
seeing.

     But her sister, Kristen, saw her immediately, and
tears began to stream down her cheeks. She squealed her sister’s name and
rushed toward her, and in the same moment that Kimberly realized who it was,
Kristen had her in a bear hug.

     “Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Kristen cried, smiling at
Fiona through her tears. “How bad are you hurt?” Kristen asked her sister,
releasing her from the death grip, trying to see where all the blood was coming
from.

     “No, it’s not my blood.”

     ‘Whose blood is it?” came an accusatory question from
behind them.

    
Becky.

     “They resisted,” said Fiona, defiantly.

     “Nice,” Arcadia laughed and held up a high five to
Fiona, who returned it as carefully as she could, still glowing in her own
power. She didn’t want to rip her friend’s arm off, after all.  Especially with
Becky watching.

     “This is not a game, girls.”

     Arcadia shot Becky a look that said she was the
biggest prude on the planet and that she just didn’t get it. There was also a
bit of
fuck off
in the look
.

     “Can we not do this here?” Fiona said, nodding toward
the two weeping sisters.

     Becky’s eyes shot past Fiona, and it was in that very instant
that something tweaked Fiona’s consciousness. It was like a memory that flashed
for a second, or an image from a dream recalled and then forgotten just as
fast.

     Fiona shook her head.

     Had she heard something? She listened, but Becky was
squawking. She squinted, tried to concentrate. Something was wrong, but what
the hell was it?

     “Fiona!” Becky finally barked. And the girl peered up
at her, confusion clearly mapped across her face. “Are you okay, honey?” Becky
said in a softer tone, recognizing a look on Fiona’s face she’d seen before..

     “Yeah, uh, what were you saying?”

     Becky motioned behind her and Fiona turned. “They
wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

     It was Fred Elders, mayor of South Lake Tahoe, flanked
by two state troopers from the CHP. “Ms. Fletcher,” Elders said as politely as
he could, but his impatience was clear in his voice, “I can’t hold off any
longer. The city council voted to take legal action if you don’t move this
encampment. Now, you’re on city property here, and this commune, or whatever
you call it, is chasing away all the tourists.”

     “What do you call those,” Fiona asked him, motioning
to the thousands camped out below them.

     “They don’t spend any money. It’s hurting our bottom line.
Our town lives and dies on tourist dollars, and if I can’t get you to move,
then the state’s gonna have to do it. Now, you don’t want that kind of
trouble.” 

     One of the state troopers beside Elders nodded, “Nope,
you sure don’t.”

     But Fiona wasn’t listening. The sound was back. Or was
it a memory? She still couldn’t tell. But something was wrong. And as she concentrated
on what it was, a solitary chill of light and energy ran down her spine. A
feeling of complete and total dread like she had never felt washed over her.

      She lifted her burning eyes to Elders. And the old
man wilted. The power that radiated off the girl was immense. It grabbed every
molecule in the air and suffocated them.

     “Uh...okay, now. We can talk about this. I’m not
threatening you, now. You know that, right? We just want to talk, that’s all.”

     “Something’s wrong,” Fiona said finally, looking past
Elders, past the troopers.

     “Oh, no,” Becky said. “I hate it when she says that.”

Lieutenant
Commander Veronica Soto was locked on.

     “I have missile lock and am preparing to fire on
target...now.” She said over her throat mike.

     Her B-12 Stealth fighter was blasting across the
California Central Valley.

     She flipped up the cover on the launch console and
pressed the red button.

    
“Roger that, Commander,”
came back the reply
from Edwards AFB.

     Below her, the missile bay doors opened and the GBU-65/B
dropped from its holders. The weapon ignited and shot through the sky, seeking
out its target ahead.

     Veronica checked her lipstick in the small mirror she
had attached to her dashboard instrument panel and smiled.
Perfect.
“Bird’s away.”

     The missile zoomed ahead at breathtaking speed. It
disappeared over the horizon. Veronica watched it on her radar.

     “Two minutes to impact,” she told the boys at Edwards.

Fiona
flashed away.

     She reappeared a quarter of a mile away and a thousand
feet above the encampment. She still wasn’t sure what she was looking for. But
the feel of it was wrong, threatening. She scanned the sky. Nothing.