I smile as he pulls me tight, running his big hands through my hair. God, I needed this. “The station had living quarters for three hundred people, I just piled every mattress I could find on top of him. When I left I had fifty pushed into the room, I could barely shut the door.”
“You’re kidding me,” he says as he kisses my neck.
I practically purr, “Nope. Epic wanted me to break his arms and legs but I’m not Prince Humperdinck—”
“Who?”
“You didn’t just say that,” I sigh. “How has your film education been so neglected?”
He nibbles my ear and thoughts of movies go right out the window.
The last few days have been interesting in the Chinese sense of the word. By order of the Federal government, all state militias were disbanded in favor of national teams. I guess Ericsson got his wish after all. A thought that runs shivers up my spine. They will still be based on region but they will have more members, better training, and FBI-like authority. The one caveat to state’s rights is the governors of the regional areas they are based out of can deploy the teams as needed.
Three days after I returned home the station passed through the Van Allen belt, the ultimate Faraday Cage ensuring Ericsson can never return to Earth.
A knock on the front door interrupts his exploring of my neck. With a sigh, he drags himself out of bed. I roll over to watch the ripple of muscles up and down his back and legs as he slides on jeans. I still have a lot to think about. What’s next? It doesn’t take him long to answer the door and I hear him say my name, “Amelia, it’s for you.”
The only people who even know I’m here would call first before coming over and Kate’s already visited. Not that she would use the door. It’s like she has an allergy to them or something.
“Whoever it is, tell them to go away.”
“You really need to come out here. Want me to come help?”
I growl as I toss the covers back. This better be worth it. I’m a pro at getting in and out of my chair so it only takes me a few seconds to slide in then pull a shirt over my tank top. I grab my breakfast on the way out, a half-eaten PB&J Luke made me an hour before.
I freeze half way in the living room. I’ve only ever seen the man standing in the door on TV, not in person. The President’s blue suit is impeccably tailored. As he shakes Luke’s hand I can tell the man spends time in the gym, fabric pulls around his shoulders the same way Luke’s does. Two men flank him, one of whom I recognize from the White House battle.
He smiles to Luke before turning his brown eyes on me. “May I come in?” The President asks casually.
“Of course sir, yes sir,” Luke spits out rapidly.
The President flashes Luke an amused, but grateful grin as he walks in. The two secret service men follow him in and check out the apartment for a second.
“Luke, manners,” I say to kickstart him.
“Right! Sir, please have a seat. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?” Poor Luke is speaking so fast I can barely understand him.
“Thank you, son, no I’m good. I’m afraid I can’t stay long, though. May I have a moment with Ms. Lockheart?”
Cautiously I reach into the pouch on the side of my chair and retrieve my glasses. I don’t need them to see, they’re my link to Epic. The chair I’m in is nothing more than a normal chair. My Mark II is done for and we’re going to need to start working on a Mark III.
He’s older than he looks on TV, I guess they probably try hard to make him look young. I can only imagine how he feels leading the country. The last few weeks have aged the crap out of me. I keep expecting to find a grey hair when I look in the mirror. Twenty-One is only a month away so why do I feel twice that age?
He waits patiently for Luke to leave the room before holding his hand out to me.
“Thank you, for what you did. Your country owes you a debt of gratitude.” I purse my lips together desperate not to blush. “I don’t suppose I could ask you to be on any of our teams? You could run it, have the whole thing to do with as you please? Clearly, you can be trusted.”
“Mr. President, I thank you for your faith in me sir, but I wasn’t being altruistic. I was trying to stop the man who kidnapped my parents and mind-controlled them.”
His eyes drop to the floor as he speaks, “I’m aware and I’m very sorry about that. But,” he says looking at me, “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Without the help of you and your… friend… I’d be dead and the country would be no more.”
Does he mean me?
“My friend… is he okay to go on? You’re not—”
He holds up his hand, “As long as you keep him hidden then we won’t have a problem. I have several men from cybersecurity who would love to pick his brain if you would allow it. The ease of which he moves through our computer systems has given the joint chiefs a collective heart attack.”
“I can imagine. I’ll see what I can do. As for the team… let me think about it.”
“Sir, we’ve got to go,” the man from the White House battle says.
“Is that a no, then?”
“It’s a ‘let me think about it’,” I say with a smile.
“Of course. It was a pleasure miss,” he turns to the man in the corner, “Palmer, give her your card please.” Palmer instantly reaches into his pocket and retrieves a white card, he leans down to give it to me and as I catch his eye he mouths, ‘thank you’.
I smile back at him, still blushing like mad. I don’t normally talk to people about my activities inside the armor.
“One more thing. NASA detected a massive unknown station breaking orbit three days ago. They have it colliding with the sun in a few years. Would I be correct in assuming it had the man responsible for all of this on board?”
I nod. A lump forms in my throat and I can’t risk speaking.
“Good to know. Good day, Ms. Lockheart.”
My mind catches up with what is happening and I wheel forward as he leaves, “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“The Protector died defending DC. If there is to be a monument of any kind, I would like it to be of him.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Take care Ms. Lockheart, let me know what you decide.” He left in a hurry, his men shutting the door behind him.
Luke rushes in and looks between the door, then me, then back to the door. “Do you know who that was?”
“He’s President, Luke, not William Shatner, calm down.”
“William… Amelia, you just got a personal visit from the leader of the free world! What did he want?”
“Food first, then politics. Go, pizza, root beer, now!” I smack his tight bottom with my hand. Then I shake it muttering ‘ow’ over and over. He lets out a big sigh and marches to the kitchen to get his keys.
Why didn’t you tell him about the aliens?
“I barely believe myself, I don’t think anyone else will. Pythia didn’t even see them she just senses their actions.”
I smile at Luke as he closes the door, giving me one last peering gaze before shutting it all the way.
What are we going to do then? They are coming and we know nothing about them or how to stop them.
“Ericsson was right about one thing.”
What?
“We need unity. We need a team, Epic. We need a solid team if we’re going to fight this.”
I’ll start running numbers on people.
“Good, but I already know at least a few people who are going to be involved. Call Kate, I want to fill her in personally.”
Do you think she will believe you?
“At least she won’t think I’m making it up,” I tell him. I run my hands through my hair and shake my head back-and-forth. I’m not, right? I didn’t lose my mind and suddenly see conspiracies where none existed? No. I know what I saw and what I heard.
They’re coming. The question is, can we stop them?
THE END.
Epilogue
Carlos closed the case on
his guitar, shoving it into the corner to rest on a pile of dirty clothes. He didn’t want to do laundry and he was too worried to play.
Three days since he saw her on the news fighting that monstrosity in DC. Three days. Not a word then suddenly this morning he gets an email from Epic letting him know she was alright.
He kicked a pillow across the room. He’d felt so helpless watching her. Not for the hundredth time since he met Amelia he wished for powers of his own. That wasn’t happening. While he would never tell her, he’d taken the test twice. He was so sure it had been wrong the first time.
With an exasperated sigh, he slunk onto the bed. There was no hope. He saw her less and less every week and now she couldn’t even let him know in person she was alive. Part of him, the more reasonable part, understood. But for six years he had her all to himself, and yeah, he knew there was nothing romantic between them, but she was his best friend. And he missed her.
“No hope at all,” he muttered.
He was trapped between going downstairs and looking for food or staying up all night playing Xbox without it. If he went downstairs he’d have to face his parents. He really could do without another lecture about his future. He had to have an old bag of chips up here somewhere? The TV powered on with a flash of light blinding him.
“What the?” He grabbed the remote and mashed the button until the TV turned off. The light didn’t go away. It was coming from the closet. Every scary movie he’d ever seen ran through his mind. He backed away from the glowing door holding his controller above his head as a weapon.
The door opened. A girl, not even a ghostly girl, just a girl in a white gown with a crown of lavender flowers around her head and long black hair and big blue eyes. Carlos blinked several times. She couldn’t be more than thirteen, though something about her seemed far older.
“Uh, hi?”
“Hello, Carlos. Your destiny awaits.”
The adventure continues in INESCAPABLE ARSENAL! Continue reading for an excerpt!
Afterword
You can find Jeffery and his many books in the following places:
Mailing List: https://goo.gl/LJdYDn
Website: www.jefferyhhaskell.com
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Amazon-Author-Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jeffery-H.-Haskell/e/B01I2W55SO
Patreon: patreon.com/jefferyH
Email: [email protected]
I love talking to fans about superheroes. Please come by and drop me a line! All my superhero books are series, so be on the look out for the next one! Welcome to the Full Metal Superverse!
Inescapable Arsenal
Full Metal Superhero Book 3
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review, or for educational purposes.
Cover designed by www.vividcovers.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Real world locations are used and in some cases fictionalized.
Jeffery H. Haskell
Visit my website at www.jefferyhhaskell.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: Dec 2017
Molten Graphics
In my life, I have been young and foolish. This is for everyone who ever helped me, but I was to dumb to thank. Thank you!
1
Amelia is stubborn, eccentric, and absolutely the best friend I’ve ever had. You ask why I risked everything to save her? Because no matter the risk, that woman is a treasure to mankind and I would be as guilty as the people who took her if I hadn’t tried. I miss her every day. Every day.
—Excerpt from Studio 50’s interview with Kate Petrenelli AKA Domino, founding member of The Protectors.
My hands won’t move. I’m telling them to, but they won’t budge. Just sit there, white knuckling the wheels on my chair while I stare at the black and white tile floor. If I take my hands off the wheels they’ll shake and I don’t want anyone to see me freaking out. Well, anyone other than Kate, who patiently waits for me while I have my panic attack.
“Amelia, it’s going to be okay. Really. Dr. Grace is one of the best. She assures me your parents are making good progress. Remember, they asked to see you.”
I nod. She makes perfect sense in the way she always does. Breathe Amelia, just breathe. It’s one of the lessons taught while I learned to come to grips with my paraplegia. Panic attacks do me no favors. Despite my decent shape and the exercise I do get, there are inherent dangers in being paralyzed and I work extra hard to avoid the pitfalls of paraplegia.
“Kate… what if they don’t remember who I am?” I look to her for help. Kate Petrenelli could’ve modeled for a living if she wanted to, hell with her powers she could do anything, and she chose to fight crime. She’s finally ditched her disguise and now wears her straight black hair just past her shoulders. Her green eyes stare at me behind the very fashionable glasses I had custom-made for her. They let her ‘talk’ to Epic whenever she needs to. The rest of her outfit is as tasteful and well-put-together as I could expect. Stylish white blouse, a cardigan throw, and a flowing skirt that dropped down to her ankles and a pair of four-inch heels I would love to wear.
I had a dark blue turtleneck and jeans, though, with the temperature outside below 40 degrees, I opted for a thick wool blanket over my legs. The only thing out of the ordinary is my very bulky hi-tech-looking wheelchair. Of course, it isn’t a wheelchair, it’s my Mark III armor. I didn’t want to spend a lot of time redesigning the wheel, it ended up being more of a Mark 2.5, but with enough changes, I decided to go with the III designator.
“Amelia, this isn’t about them miraculously fully recovering. It’s a process. One you are holding back because you don’t want to see them.” She holds up her hand to forestall my complaint. “Believe me, I understand how painful it is. But you are holding it back. They need to see you, they need to try and reforge those neural pathways.”
I nod; I hate it when she’s right.
“Can you push? I don’t think I can keep my hands from shaking.”
With a grin, she steps behind me. Despite its appearance, the suit is actually quite light. Even if it wasn’t, Kate would put an Olympic weightlifter to shame.
“Have you decided where you want to go for your birthday? Where I come from, twenty-one is a big deal.”
I shake my head. “I don’t celebrate birthdays.” The only one I remember is my 6th, the one we had just before we left for California. I don’t need a yearly reminder of what I’ve lost. I have it daily.
“That’s too bad because we are celebrating.”
I don’t respond, I don’t want to force the issue right now. I’ll just weasel out of it when the time comes. I hear her giggle and realize she can probably feel exactly what I’m thinking.
We move in silence as she pushes me through the first floor. Like most hospitals, and I have visited my fair share, the smell of antiseptic is heavy in the air. Doctors and nurses scurry about here and there. She pushes me over to the elevator banks and we wait as the light blinks at us.
“Any word from Carlos?” she asks.
I shake my head, “Only that he received an offer to learn guitar from some famous person in Spain. His family said he packed up and left overnight about three days after the incident. Nothing since. I’ve emailed him a couple of times but no joy.”
“He’s 20, in Spain and he plays guitar… use your imagination as to why he could be… occupied.”
“Why Katherine Petrenelli, are you jealous?”
I turn to see her face and sure enough, there was a hint of red on her cheeks.
“
Not jealous, per se, just… I get overly used to being the most popular girl in the room. It can be… disconcerting when I’m ignored.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively, “Oh, I know I should be thankful but part of me… well part of me likes the attention,” she said with a sigh. “The bad part of me.”
“Well, I’m sure he’s having a good time and thinking about you every minute. You or Monica, I’m not sure which.”
Kate smiles and pushes me into the elevator. The building stretched up thirty floors and my parents were close to the top for security reasons. Once in, we fish out our ID and show it to the camera. The elevator had an ECM suite to rival my own, I should know, I designed it for them. No one trying to access the 29th floor could do so using mind control, I made sure.
We ride up in silence. I really didn’t want to stay away but the part of me that was still a scared little girl curled up in my mind and cringed at the thought of losing her parents… again.
Kate’s reassuring hand squeezes my shoulder. The warmth of her feelings flows through our link and the edge of my panic vanishes.
I can do this.
The doors open into a sterile room with metallic ink painted on the walls. A lonesome stainless steel tray with two necklaces sit alone in the middle of the otherwise empty white room. We place them over our necks and a white LED flashes on, letting the staff know the ECM was active and working.
Kate could still use her powers to some degree, pheromones, and touch, but she couldn’t read anyone’s emotions or influence them without touch. She pauses for a second, stumbling to the side and holding her head as if a huge headache had just cold cocked her.
Wheeling over, I lean down to look up at her, “You okay?”
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