“But what about me? I don’t have an enhanced license, or a passport, or…”
“Then you’re obviously not going to Canada with us, man! You need to find someplace else to go, and you better do it now!”
“Jesus shit, Rick. I have no idea where I can possibly run to…”
“Look, I gotta go! I gotta call Zeff, and we gotta blow this town! Good luck, dude!”
“Rick, wait…!”
But those were the last words a now hysterical Jimmy Bonsey heard before his friend and partner-in-crime terminated the call. And it was also the last time he would ever be able to contact him, since Rick would make a point to immediately toss his cell phone’s sim card, just before using a disposable phone to call Zeff and take flight.
Chapter 22: The Final Throwdown
Light-Lord stood prepared to hurl the energy sphere carrying an explosive force equivalent to 200 lbs. of TNT down upon the insensate form of Centurion.
However, a mere second before doing so, the cosmic-powered villain found himself struck from behind by a furious burst of taser fire. The berserk scientist’s aim and balance were consequently spoiled, and the manifested sphere of sizzling energy ascended from the palm of its creator like a helium-filled balloon.
Donovan Jakes was once again thankful that his aim proved true. I hope this bought you a little reprieve, kid. Please don’t be dead this time either, because I can’t stop this freak without you.
Light-Lord screeched in rage as he reflexively attempted to “catch” the mass of artificial ball lightening that now hovered several feet away… only to see it fizzle out of existence due to its failure to hit a physical target during the few seconds its charge was “live.”
“You again!” he yelled at Donovan. “I’ll make certain I kill you this time!”
The grizzled soldier knew this would be no idle vaunt from the scientist-made-cosmic. He thus prepared to do his best to dodge the imminent beams of incandescent destruction that would momentarily be directed towards his frail human form.
***
Several seconds earlier, the felled and barely conscious Centurion had one thought instinctively passing through his mind in a psychic loop: I have to concentrate… heal these injuries… gotta help Donovan…
To that end, the young metahuman concentrated every iota of Odic energy coursing through his cellular matrix into the areas where he could sense the worst injuries. He did his best to focus past the nearly overwhelming pain to project a single thought and purpose into these cascading streams of internal energy: heal me… heal me, dammit.
Centurion could clearly detect a sensation of intensely charged but soothing energy flowing into the cells of his broken rib cage. He literally felt the jagged edge of a broken rib extract itself from the lung it had pierced, with the ruptured flesh of the vital organ knitting itself back together seconds afterwards. The fractured bone moved back into its proper place with an apparent mind of its own; though in actuality the only will involved was the focused intention of its youthful owner projected into it. In obeisance to his conscious thoughts, the energy began recombining the fractured bones of the rib cage.
Following that, the panacean energies would soon have their course re-directed to the cracked thoracic and lumbar vertebrae comprising the young champion’s spinal column.
***
Donovan leapt behind the parked vehicle nearest to him, hoping its frame was solid enough to take Light-Lord’s oncoming energy projection without exploding to pieces. Fortunately, the car in question turned out to be a ’57 Ford, whose steel construction merely caved in several feet under the force of the beam rather than being blown to bits. You’re one lucky old bastard, soldier…
The leader of Valis’s Mega-Force unit then bounded atop what remained of the vehicle’s hood and fired off several shots of his taser at the enraged wielder of Odic fury. Light-Lord was struck by two of the electric projectiles, which were duly felt through his suit’s weakened protective aura.
Donovan was fully aware that his returning fire would give away his position, however. Thus, he knew that he had to run behind the next available vehicle to have a chance of surviving the far superior retaliatory power of his opponent. Man, please don’t let this Sedan be made of lots of that newer cheap ass plastic instead of good quality steel…
That time, however, Light-Lord chose to manifest and hurl an energy mine -- an artificial sphere of destructive ball lightening -- instead of projecting a long stream of energy directly from his gauntlets. The “mine” would lack the precise aim of the beam but would surpass it in pure explosive force. That was a trade-off its wielder was gambling to do a better job of exterminating the troublesome pest in his midst.
Donovan peeked from behind the Sedan and saw the glowing sphere flying towards the vehicle like a flickering will- ‘o-the-wisp of impending death.
“I think this is the big one coming, Elizabeth!” the combat veteran punned as he made a desperate bid to vacate the car’s vicinity before its front end was demolished in a flurry of immolation.
The soldier spotted a large pine tree located directly across the street, which he made a swift beeline towards. It was his hope that the tree’s bulk would be sufficient to block the numerous flying pieces of lethal plastic, glass, and burning rubber shrapnel that was sure to erupt from the vehicle’s explosive destruction.
Before the protective quality of the huge pine tree could be put to the test, however, a familiar looking beam of bluish energy struck the flaring yellow energy mine while it was still airborne. This caused the luminous sphere to disperse with a sound resembling a much louder version of a candle flame being blown out. Donovan couldn’t help smiling with the realization of where that saving beam had originated.
The veteran soldier then heard Light-Lord release a grating scream of agony. Donovan smiled once more when he saw the reason for the malcontent’s sudden pain: The recovered but still-off-his-feet Centurion had grasped his adversary’s genital area in his steel-strong fingers while squeezing with all available might.
The youth’s gripping hand was surrounded by a miniature corona of crackling and burning energy, even as his eyes flared with an azure incandescence.
“Stop blasting at the soldier or I’ll burn off your ‘nads!” the young hero demanded in a tone even more firm than his grip.
***
Al Garrison realized that no good news would be reported from Tatti Lawson as she stepped into his office in the security control center of the Valis Institute. The dejected expression on her face made this all too clear. But he knew it was his job and personal responsibility to listen anyway.
“It would seem that Mr. Kelley and the remaining two culprits were tipped off about Ken McRafferty going to the cops,” The Noticer said glumly. “They took flight, and their respective parents and siblings claim to have no idea where they could have gone. I also had a ‘friendly’ little interrogation session with Marissa Robbins and Leah Stanton, who also pleaded ignorance of their whereabouts. I’m convinced all were telling the truth.”
Al sighed with great exasperation. “So, we have three scared, desperate, and potentially violent kids on the lam. We don’t even know if the three of them ran off together, or in two or more different directions. And we also gotta deal with what will happen when we break the news of all this to Benny; who, by the way, I’m totally optimistic will survive the fiasco going on at the school right now.”
“We need to find out where they went,” Tatti replied. “I have my suspicions that Rick Kelley, at least, may have fled over the Peace Bridge and is now en route to Toronto.”
“What evidence do you have for that?”
“You never noticed that Mr. Kelley sometimes wore a tee shirt to school with a quotation taken from one of the central characters on Canada’s popular Degrassi TV show?”
“Um, no.”
“Well, I did.”
“Of course, you would. You’re The Noticer.”
“Mmm-hmm. I have a n
iece who is a huge fan of the current incarnation of that show, which is filmed and situationally based in Toronto. I also noticed an image of actress Jessica Tyler, one of the stars of that series, serving as the display pic on Mr. Kelley’s iPod tablet. This strongly suggests he’s one of the many North American high school students who are fascinated with the show.
“Also keep in mind Toronto is located in a foreign country that can be easily traveled to from here by car in a relatively short period of time. It’s also just far enough away to provide a good distance from the border to prevent easy communication between the Buffalo and Toronto authorities. With these factors taken into account, I think it’s only logical Toronto is Kelley’s destination point.”
“Now I totally know why the Valis Institute put you on the job! So that means we can check with customs to see if anyone fitting his description went over the border, and with the same model of car and license plate that he’s known for driving.”
“Yes, but here’s the thing. We have no idea if he took his regular car, as I also noticed he had a promotional keychain from a small car rental business located in South Buffalo. Some checking on my part revealed that car lot to be owned by his older cousin, Merl. This cousin may have been persuaded to lend him a vehicle credit free; or Mr. Kelley may even have stolen one under his cousin’s nose, since he had after school employment at the business, and was trusted with full access to the lot.
“We can interrogate his cousin, but I’m not sure what info that will end up yielding. Also keep in mind that since we’re not accredited law enforcement agents, we would need to do this carefully and under the radar of both the Buffalo PD and the FBI, not to mention the Toronto PD. We also cannot coordinate our efforts with law enforcement in an overt manner, since not only do we not want the local police to know about the Valis Institute having a branch in Buffalo, but we need to find Mr. Kelley and his partners before the police do.
“If the cops incarcerate them in a juvie facility pending a full investigation, it will be exceedingly difficult for us to keep Benny from getting to them there. And this despite the Institute having a mole in the Buffalo PD; and even if we install a secret security detail at the facility to bolster that which is already employed there. If it should come to that, of course.”
“Yeah. Of course. This really sucks.”
“That would be the word for it, Al.”
“So, I take it that a trip to Toronto is in order?”
“You ‘take it’ quite correctly, Agent Garrison. Especially since Valis so happens to have an institute secretly located in Toronto too.”
***
“Release me, you little pissant!” Light-Lord demanded as his younger opponent tightened his electro-enhanced clasp on the older man’s genital region. “Release me or I’ll kill you all!”
“Yeah, right, like you haven’t already been threatening to do that all along!” Centurion rejoined. “Now either lose your threats or lose your junk! Those are your options, Disco Man!”
While this stand-off of sorts was ensuing, Brett Silver finally re-appeared on the scene after having delivered the injured Agent Sasheen Kahn to the Valis Institute infirmary. Within moments of parking the van, he was beside Donovan Jakes once more.
“Whoa!” Brett exclaimed at the sight before him. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing, Commander?”
“Yup,” Donovan replied matter-of-factly. “The kid has him by the balls in the most literal of ways.”
“Sir, should we move in and blast that bastard from behind while the kid has him, you know, distracted?”
“Sounds like a plan, Agent Silver. So, let’s – oh shit…”
Donovan’s self-interjection came as he noticed that Light-Lord’s pain, terror, and desperation were once again combining to cause him to channel a full-body build-up of Odic energy in his suit. This meant that within a moment the cosmic-powered malcontent would expel that vast energy surge as an omni-directional burst of force rivaling the destructive power of a small nuclear warhead.
That this was about to occur was obvious to anyone who had previously witnessed the screeching sizzle of the air accompanied by the formation of a pulsating mauve-colored sphere around the villain’s body that always directly preceded such an expulsion wave.
Donovan grasped Brett and pulled him to the ground, even though he knew the act was probably futile. His last thought was one of regret that his loyal soldier had returned to his side only to be blasted out of existence mere seconds later.
Again, however, such a predicted scenario of devastation would not come to pass. The very moment that Centurion sensed the build-up of energy in Light-Lord’s suit, he delivered a powerful reverse punch to his opponent’s gut. The superhumanly strong blow completely disrupted Light-Lord’s panic-driven thoughts, thus sabotaging the impending energy build-up before it reached critical mass.
After Centurion caused his adversary to keel over over, the young metahuman leaped back to his feet and projected as powerful an electro-beam as he could manage at his opponent’s chest. Light-Lord was knocked off his feet by the force of the beam and sent backwards until his flight was halted when he crashed into the remaining portion of the schoolyard fence.
Donovan could once again scarcely describe the sense of relief that filled his psyche.
Geez, I swear my whole life passed before me for at least the third time tonight. That kid sure comes through when he has to. But he needs to strike a decisive blow, and soon, because even he isn’t gonna last much longer. And if it comes down to reinforcements having to handle this, half the city is likely to be taken down along with this maniac.
Despite the continued weakening of the half-inch protective aura generated around his body by his incredible suit, Light-Lord was still quick to retaliate. He did so with a double handed blast of destructive multi-colored energy at his youthful opponent. Centurion, in turn, was quick to respond in kind, double-projecting a whitish-azure beam of punishing electro-energy.
Though neither of the two Odic-energy wielding titans were up to full strength, what they both still managed to unleash was nevertheless impressive. The very air surrounding the point where the dueling blasts met steamed and crackled with a sound not unlike two powered chainsaws grating against each other.
The dueling demi-gods were simultaneously giving it their all, and though both were visibly buckling under each other’s assault, they were equally determined not to give ground. The sparkling fury given off from where those opposing beams clashed seemed to fly in every direction. This provided a sight that was both amazingly breathtaking and nightmarishly terrifying for normal human bystanders to behold.
The energies which Centurion and Light-Lord pitted against each other were nothing less than the fundamental forces of the universe; the power source of the gods themselves, only now wielded by individuals who walked within the world of mortal men. Though humbled by what they saw, Donovan and Brett were no less adamant about bringing down the one who was most obviously not on the side of their fellow mortals.
“Taze the bastard!” the Mega-Force commander ordered, speaking loudly to ensure that the soldier under his command heard him over the cacophony of the clashing energy beams.
Both Mega-Force soldiers brandished their taser rifles and fired several shots of electrical bolts directly at Light-Lord. The energy bullets hit their target from behind at several points, but his weakening defense field was still sufficient to resist them.
“Damn it all,” Donovan said to himself, as he initially believed this attack yielded negligible results.
Soon, however, it was to become clear this may not have been the case. The apparent stalemate between Centurion and Light-Lord abruptly ended when both combatants could no longer continue the attack in this manner. As their respective beams appeared to sizzle out at roughly the same moment, the two cosmic combatants fell to their knees from the tremendous strain both had endured to maintain that impasse for so long.
Despite the ostensibly
artificial means of summoning and channeling the Odic force, it was clear that Rutger Kaiser’s power suit was intimately connected to his own life energies along with his very consciousness.
Light-Lord was no less intent upon obliterating his foe, however. As such, he was the first of the two to manage getting back to his feet. After doing so he immediately began forming another energy mine over the palm of his hand, which he quickly aimed to toss directly at the still fallen Centurion.
“No, you don’t, pencil dick!” the young man shouted.
Immediately after that declaration, a spontaneous need once again enabled Centurion to tap a different frequency of energy along the Odic spectrum for a very specific effect. This time it manifested as twin projected scarlet-orange colored ocular beams of pure concussive force.
The twin energy streams struck Light-Lord on his wrist, cracking his ulna beneath what remained of his suit’s deflective aura. This not only caused him to scream from the excruciating pain of the sudden injury, but it also caused him to drop the surging sphere of ball lightening he created. The energy mass then floated to the ground to harmlessly bounce twice before fizzling out of existence.
Centurion then leapt to his feet and rushed towards Light-Lord, who was then still holding his fractured wrist. Before the deranged ex-scientist could sufficiently react, the younger man struck him in the side of the face with a superhumanly strong haymaker. The villain’s protective aura continued to flicker as he was sent reeling by the blow.
Light-Lord reflexively swung back at Centurion, but the latter’s recent intense training at the Institute served him well as he instinctively blocked the mighty counter-punch. With his fortitude and anger on overdrive, Centurion responded with a side kick to Light-Lord’s solar plexus, causing his foe to buckle further.
“C’mon, kid, knock that asshole’s block off!” Donovan shouted.
Centurion- Dark Genesis Page 27