“Don’t let up, man!” Brett hollered in agreement.
These attempts to add verbal encouragement to Centurion’s fuel reserves appeared to work as the young hero continued to rain blow after superhuman blow upon his enemy, absolutely refusing to give ground or to give Light-Lord the opportunity to deliver any form of retaliation.
Centurion could sense the exponential weakening of his enemy’s protective energy field under the intense pummeling he delivered. He could likewise actually feel Light-Lord’s facial bones fracturing underneath the headpiece of his suit with each connected blow.
Finally, with his rage at its zenith, Centurion launched one final reverse punch directly to Light-Lord’s face. The young warrior felt the cartilage of his adversary’s nose fragment under its smashing force.
The severely battered scientist flew back against the still standing portion of the schoolyard fence, where he hit the hard metal with a loud clanging sound. He then slid down until he came to rest in a sitting position on the concrete ground.
“You’re done,” Centurion said as he forced himself to remain on his feet. “Give it up. I understand what drove you to this, but I won’t let you hurt any more innocent people.”
“You understood… nothing,” Light-Lord coughed in reply, as he mentally commanded the Odic energies still coursing through his suit to keep him conscious. “We should have been… friends. You betrayed… one of your own. I will… kill you… for that.”
Despite the beating he dealt to the man, Centurion could sense the further building of energies in his adversary’s suit.
Light-Lord’s entire sky blue raiment began glowing in alternating colors as power continued to course through it, apparently sifting for just the right frequency to bring to bear against the young metahuman standing before him. The lengthy swaths of tubular circuitry which adorned the exterior of the suit began flashing as if colored neon liquid was flowing through them, this making them resemble cosmic-powered fluorescent ceiling lights.
Light-Lord then began raising his left arm in preparation for projecting more deadly energy from the pulsing gauntlets.
“No, enough is enough!” Centurion decreed.
The cosmic-powered youth reached down and literally pushed his hands through the weak remnants of the suit’s energy field and grasped its external energy-processing circuitry. Centurion shouted with the effort akin to a human weightlifter pressing a 300-pound barbell over his head as he pulled with all his superhuman might to rip the circuitry clear off the surface of his opponent’s azure-hued garb.
Light-Lord yelled with an incredible degree of agony as he lost control of the Odic energy flowing through the contours of the suit. The erratic energies scattered about his body in a flurry of multi-colored incandescent sparks. Centurion was buffeted by the sudden energy surge and received a shocking sensation that momentarily knocked him off his feet.
“Whoa!” Brett again exclaimed as he and Donovan ran closer to the scene of combat.
They arrived seconds later to find Centurion once more pushing himself back to his feet. Right below him, still laying in an upright position against the remains of the schoolyard fence, was the now immobile form of Light-Lord. His power suit was continuously glowing with a frequently changing pattern of colors, but no hazardous levels of energy flowed or crackled about him any longer.
Centurion’s clasped right hand held the detached, dangling rings of circuitry that formerly absorbed and manipulated the inestimably powerful Odic energy from the universal fabric. Light-Lord was effectively de-fanged.
“I… I think he’s finally down for the count, Donovan,” the young man said while struggling to remain standing.
“I think you’re right,” the commander of the Institute’s Mega-Force unit said with a noticeable smile. “Nice going, kid. Now let’s get both you and him out of here before the National Guard and state troopers arrive. We can’t afford his suit, however damaged, to end up in the hands of any government agency. If this get-up and its circuitry ever got reproduced, the whole world would be knee-deep in shit.”
A moment later, Donovan’s order was interrupted when Spring Heel Jack leapt clear over the remainder of the fence and landed in their midst with a loud thud. His soiled costume was now replaced with a clean but slightly ill-fitting replacement.
“Hey, guys, what did I miss?”
The pudgy, green-suited adolescent then noticed the unconscious form of Light-Lord. He punctually ran up to the insensate villain and kicked him in the chest.
“Hah, the coup de grace!” Spring Heel decreed. “Now he’s totally down for the count! I guess I was the deus ex machina for you guys, huh?”
“Yeah, dude, I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t arrived just in the nick of time,” a thoroughly drained Centurion retorted sardonically as he fell back against one of the schoolyard fence’s remaining metal posts.
Epilogue: Loose Ends and Foreboding Futures
After just over three months in the confines of their shared hospital room, Mick Judge and Jeff Wolfe had made satisfactory progress via surgery, physical therapy, and (as their parents had hoped) mutual reassurance. They were due to be sent home soon, and the doctors were expected to provide their parents with a prognosis for when they would be able to return to school afterwards.
Of course, the question of when, or if, they could return to playing sports was separate to the more immediate query as to when they could resume their in-school academic studies and basic life activities.
The two young men had nothing but time over the past three months, and they passed much of it discussing these matters, as well as the implication of the visit they received from apparent law enforcement officers soon after they had both regained full cognizance. They weren’t always in accord over how to conduct their post-hospitalization activities in regard to all of the above concerns, but they knew that Benny Lonero would likely continue to be a presence at the school once they finally returned to it.
What would they do about that? What would school be like for them now that venting via bullying Benny and his best and practically only friend was no longer an option? And, perhaps most importantly, was that perhaps something they shouldn’t have been doing all along, despite being able to conduct that activity with a heavy degree of impunity?
During the course of those discussions, the two on-the-mend students and (possibly former) athletes never considered an entirely different sort of option than those already spoken about. However, such an option suddenly presented itself to them when an attractive younger woman dressed in smart attire walked into the room one afternoon soon after they had each completed their daily physical therapy sessions and were in the middle of their lunch repast.
“Mick Judge? Jeff Wolfe?” the woman inquired for confirmation.
“Yeah, that’s us,” Mick replied. “And you sure don’t look like someone about to stick us with another needle or take our temperatures.”
“No, I’m not,” she stated with a firm attitude. “My name is Gail Parker. I’m glad to see you boys on the verge of being released, and able to talk again. I came to tell you that I think what was done to you two was reprehensible. I think the… person… who did this to you should be punished far more than he was.”
“Person?” Jeff said with a very nervous tone. “Um, we already gave our statements to the police. We told them how it was a whole gang of…”
“Okay, enough of that,” Gail interpolated with a raised hand. “Listen to me, gentlemen. I know exactly who did this to you, and that it was a single individual of… unusual capabilities. He is someone that has hurt more than just you guys. And while I do not condone what you two participated in to set him off, I certainly do not think what he did should have been dealt with as lightly as it was.”
Jeff gulped audibly. “Look, lady, we really don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“Yes, you do!” Gail insisted quite adamantly. “So, let’s cut the bull, because I’m her
e to give you an opportunity to be directly involved in getting justice for what he did to you; as well as other people that he hurt, including someone I care about very much.”
The two adolescents were quiet for several seconds, before Mick turned to his friend. “Let’s hear what she has to say, Jeff.” He then turned back to the strange women who had unexpectedly entered their lives. “Please go on, Ms. Parker. Or can we maybe call you Gail?”
***
Jane Marsden sat beside her same-aged aunt and BFF Carolyn on the latter’s bedroom couch where they had had more than their share of “girl talk” in the past. But no secret the two young women had ever shared before came close to measuring up to what Carolyn had just revealed to Jane on this occasion.
“Seriously, girl?” the tall and thin Jane said with more than a hint of surprise. “Centurion seriously kissed you? As in, on the lips?”
“Do you think I’m one to make something like that up, Jane?” Carolyn snipped.
“No, of course not. But this is just… well, crazy.”
“No kidding.”
“This is amazing, Carolyn! Just totally ‘effin’ amazing!”
“Yea, I suppose it is. I guess.”
Jane looked closer at her young aunt after noticing the chubby-cheeked girl’s less than enthused response.
“Wait, were you not excited about it?”
“Well, yea, I guess.”
“You ‘guess?’ What am I missing here?”
“Okay, I meant, it was rather exciting in a way, but… I don’t really know how I feel about it overall, Jane. It was sort of creepy the way it went down. I know he saved my life, and I’m very grateful for what he went through to do that, but… I just don’t know. I really hope I never see that guy again.”
***
Mac Campton, a.k.a., Brick, laid upon an extra padded medical bed in the Valis Institute infirmary as he recovered from the fairly serious injuries he incurred earlier that day. The flat wall-mounted TV was activated, but he paid little attention to the on-screen antics. Instead, he found his mind wandering onto other things. These thoughts were less than enthusiastic, considering his relatively poor showing against Light-Lord.
“Hey, sexy,” came a soft, familiar young female voice, along with a casual knock on the wall, to get his attention.
That utterance belonged to Angela Bentley, a.k.a., Shard, who entered the room in her civilian clothing, which consisted of a crop top tee shirt and a pair of tight blue jeans. Her usual peppy exuberance was belying the pain from the injured ribs she received in that same battle.
“Hey, babe,” Mac replied in a low voice. “Thanks for coming, but I hate you seeing me like this, ya know?”
“Awww, don’t give it any concern, my walking Brick wall.” She scampered over to the bulky young metahuman and gave him a quick but deep kiss on the lips. “You still look good, even trussed up like this.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Seriously, boo.” She sat on the extra-sized bed beside him and took his hand. “So, how are you doing?”
“That glowing asshole blew a hole almost half an inch deep into my gut with that energy beam he shoots. Since I got these powers I had no idea I could be hurt like that. Hell, bullets bounce off my hide while barely stinging.”
“Just because you’re bullet proof, doesn’t mean other, more powerful forces can’t penetrate that ultra-strong skin of yours. I’m thinking it’s pretty fortuitous that you find out what your limits are, so you don’t run into future battles half-cocked.”
“Nah, don’t worry, that part of me wasn’t cut in half.”
“Huh? Geez, that’s not what I meant, hun. I meant in the future you need to think and have a plan before you launch yourself into a combat situation with such a powerful foe; especially now that you know you’re not totally indestructible.”
“Oh, okay. And ‘fruit-tu-ey-tous?’ You and those big words of yours. Maybe you should be going out with Centurion instead, since he talks like that too and he has way more in common with you than me.”
“Eeeeww, I don’t think so. I like my big jockie guy just the way he is, okay? You don’t have to read a lot to be attractive to me. I think you were pretty brave to engage such a powerful opponent, and you took these injuries while defending innocent people. You’re a real hero in my estimation. Even if you did rush into the whole thing half -- … without thinking.”
“Yeah, yeah. I also could have hurt you really bad with the mistake I made. Speaking of which, babe…”
“I’m all right. Just a few cracked ribs. I’ve had much worse, trust me.”
“That’s cool. Thank Thor for that. But as brave as you say I was, Lonero was the one who took that dickwad down.”
“Not without help from Cmdr. Jakes and his Mega-Force unit. And it’s not like Centurion routed Light-Lord without taking a hell of a beating himself first. You’re just starting out in this business, remember? You’ll do fine in the future.”
“But Lonero did fine now and didn’t wait for the future before doing good. He’s gonna end up second-in-command to Jakes of the Institute’s Western New York metahuman division. Just watch, I can see it coming.”
“I was here before you and believe me when I tell you that Lonero has made his share of screw-ups already. Don’t worry about him. He’s a loose cannon waiting to blow, and when he does, I’ll be there beside you to help take him down.”
“So, you think I need your help to really take him?”
“Stop that, Captain Macho. You know that’s not what I meant. You just won’t have to face him alone when the time comes. Not because you’re incapable of taking him mono-a-mono, but because I want to help you. And I’m there for you whether you want me to be or not.”
“Yeah, but, babe…”
“Shut up, sweetie.”
Angela ended the conversation by locking her lips tightly with Mac’s own, and the two immediately abandoned all thoughts as they became lost in each other.
***
Benny Lonero sat on an unfolded futon in his quarters-cum-confinement-cell located within the brig section of the Valis Institute facility literally sequestered underneath a mock public gym on 751 Niagara Street, Buffalo, New York. He had spent the past few hours recovering from the grueling battle with Light-Lord.
That battle nevertheless ended in a great victory for him, one which convinced him that perhaps he did have what it took to one day become an actual hero; just like those he often read about in the four-color books, and just like his mentor Donovan.
Benny thought it odd that his calls sent to Craig’s cell phone went unanswered, and his voice messages unreturned. However, he figured that his friend simply failed to pay the monthly bill, even though that wasn’t like him. In the meantime, he was talking -- or perhaps, arguing would be a more apt term – over the phone with his grandmother.
“You still haven’t told me when you plan to come home, Benny,” Grace Lonero hollered through the phone’s speaker.
“It’s because I don’t plan to any time soon,” Benny replied curtly. “You know how I don’t get along with you and my grandfather.”
“Look, you aren’t under the custody of Craig’s mother; you’re under our custody. We’re responsible for you, and your mother is having a fit that you’re not home with us. And I think it’s terrible how you won’t talk to her at all!”
“Oh, well, life tends to be a bitch to those who are bitches.”
“Stop being such a little smart ass, Benny!”
“Well, that’s better than being a dumb ass, right?”
“What? You’re not funny, young man!”
“Look, I’m perfectly fine where I am, and I can’t come home now. I don’t get along with you and my grandfather, and I’m sick of all the fighting, okay? If he can’t stand me, then I think I shouldn’t be there.”
Grace’s tone lowered just a bit. “Your grandfather and I love you, Benny.”
“But you and him sure as hell don’t like me. And it�
��s not… safe that we share the same house right now.”
“You’re being ridiculous, Benjamin! Your grandfather just has no patience for you. And not for nothing, but you’re really disrespectful to us, and you can’t expect us to put up with that.”
“The two of you do not understand me, and like too many people, you resent what you don’t understand. Respect has to go two ways, and he has no respect for my privacy, or for me as a person. And you usually always take my grandfather’s side, even when he starts the fights. That grows old pretty quick. Older than you, in fact.”
“Shut up, Benny! You need to understand something: I need your grandfather, but I don’t need you. You have to be the one to learn respect, not us.”
“See, that attitude is exactly the reason that you’re certifiably insane to expect me to come home. I don’t agree that respect is something that only works in one direction. Sorry, but you know I’m a card-carrying youth liberationist. We need to work something out before I can come home.”
“What’s to stop us and your mother from asking the police to bring you back here?”
Benny’s voice suddenly took on a darker tenor. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He then cleared his throat. “What I mean is, you don’t own me, and there’s a lot more to being a parent or grandparent than putting a roof over a kid’s head or providing food for them. The state does that for prisoners! We need to come to some arrangement before I even consider coming home, but that won’t be for a while, okay?”
The typically tedious argument between Benny and one of his immediate family members was interrupted by Donovan Jakes and Tatti Lawson hitting the request bell on the solid steel door that separated his “quarters” from the rest of the brig facilities.
“Benny, we need to talk to you, okay?” Tatti’s voice came through the intercom, both loud and concerned.
“Look, I have to go now, Mrs. Minkel is asking me something,” Benny told his grandmother. “We’ll have to continue this later. Hopefully much later.”
Centurion- Dark Genesis Page 28