The sudden spike of pain at the mention of his name does little to dampen the mood. I miss him, but I can put him in a box while I figure out what to do about it. I hold up my hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m dealing with it. I’ll get him back. I know I will.”
They nod, smiling. I realize we’re all holding hands around the small table. I need this in my life. Stability, family, friends. They keep me grounded. I—
Amelia, we are about to have company. There are several individuals from the Pacific Northwest Super-team making their way through the restaurant toward you. Based on vitals and visual cues they may be expecting a fight.
“Sorry Mom, Dad, one second,” I tell my parents. “Epic, should I get them out of here?” I nod toward my folks.
I cannot imagine why they would be acting in such an aggressive manner, so yes, discretion is the better part of valor.
I nod to myself. Epic’s right. I don’t want to risk my parents if things go south. “Listen, something is happening and I don’t want you hurt,” I say. The way they instantly go alert frustrates me to no end. This was the first family dinner we’ve had in sixteen years and someone has to spoil it. “Put on those glasses I gave you and Epic will guide you out.”
“Oh, I modified those to contacts, I’m already talking to him,” Mom says with a grin that makes me smile from ear to ear.
“Contacts? You’re going to have to tell me how you did that,” I say.
“Come on Hope, I think I see the problem,” Dad says as he slips on the glasses I gave them. He stands up, helping Mom up at the same time. They give me a loving look before hustling out the back way.
Epic has the Emjet en route. Maybe I should seriously talk to them about moving to Phoenix. Or perhaps I should move up here? Nah I don’t like the rain and it’s too cold. I get enough flack for bundling up in Arizona. It’s not my fault my circulation sucks.
The first few drops of the aforementioned rain splash against the skylights above as the Northwest super team finally enters the section I’m sitting in. A wave of murmurs follows them as the rest of the diners see them. By the time they’re standing in front of me, rain is crashing hard outside. Epic tags them all, though there is one, in particular, he doesn’t have to. They came in the room separately but by the time they reach my table they stand together shoulder to shoulder. Four big, bad, superheroes and one little me. I see several waiters talking trying to figure out what to do. Costumed superheroes are an unusual enough sight. Like the police, people often don’t see them unless there is trouble. I hope there isn’t trouble.
The AR tags pop up over their heads. Enforcer is the team leader. He’s the strong man, an F4 with strength and invulnerability. Emerald Knight is a teleporter and energy projector, she’s an F3 in both. Which means her beams probably can’t pierce my armor. Weather Witch is next; she’s the most powerful on the team. All of nineteen years old and an F5 weather controller. I’m guessing she’s the reason it’s raining outside. Her eyes are cloudy gray and little bolts of lightning flash through them. If I were standing I’d be taller than her—she’s only 5’2”. Last, and certainly least, is Triple Threat. I hate him so much. Not just for the way he treated Kate, but his cocky demeanor makes me want to punch him in the face.
I wheel around, putting a pleasant smile on my face as I greet them. “If you had called, I could have had a table ready for you, but I’m sure the manager can make something happen,” I say. I know they’re not here to eat but I want to be as reasonable as possible. I sure wish Kate was here.
Weather Witch scowls, looking up at Enforcer to speak. He seems somewhat unsure of what he’s supposed to do. When Witch steps forward to point her finger at me things click into place. Enforcer doesn’t want to be here, but he’s either crushing on Witch or he doesn’t have control of his team. Either way isn’t good for me.
“You need to leave Seattle. You’re not wanted here,” she says glaring down at me. The hostility in her voice leaves no doubt as to the way she feels.
I fold my hands neatly across my lap and force myself to smile. “Besides Dwayne here,” I say with a nod toward Triple Threat, whose wicked smile falters when I look at him. “I’ve never met any of you. What’s your deal?” I know the media has been laying into me of late. I guess while I was gone and everyone but my team thought I was dead. I was an easy target to blame for everything from the coup to the alien invasion. I didn’t really catch up before, but since the protesters, I’ve had Epic filling me in. I didn’t realize the attitude had filtered over to other superheroes. To be honest, I haven’t had a lot of interaction with anyone outside my team.
“Our ‘deal’ is you’re a murderer,” she continues. “You should be behind bars, not eating in a restaurant like a human being. None of us feel safe with you in the city.” Weather Witch isn’t tall, but she doesn’t have to be. I’m in a wheelchair looking up at all of them. They tower over me and the way she presses forward puts me on the defensive. I have to bury my urge to armor up. It would only escalate the situation. I channel my inner Kate and try to calm things down. The irony here is she’s claiming not to feel safe and she’s one of the most powerful supers on the west coast. I don’t even have superpowers.
“I can’t control how you feel, only how I act. I haven’t done anything wrong—”
“Liar. You’re a liar and a murderer. You attacked Triple Threat in his base, you killed Behemoth, stole alien technology, murdered an entire race of people and then killed a beloved man who ran a charity! Tell me I’m wrong,” she yells at me. The crazy in her eyes is alarming.
“I’ve never murdered anyone,” I say. Anger and fear mix in my bloodstream and my heart starts pounding. I grip the armrests on my chair trying really hard to stay calm. I don’t like being yelled at and accused of murder, I don’t imagine anyone does.
“You’re a liar and a killer,” she says, leaning back then jutting forward to spit on me. I hold up my hand to keep it from hitting me in the face. I’ve had about enough of people spitting on me. Despite how angry I am and the underlying current of fear that’s making my chest squeeze the life out of me, I’m not going to run away, or armor up. This isn’t a movie; if I escalate this, people will be hurt and property destroyed. As satisfying as it would be to smack the crap out of them, I can’t.
I let out a sigh, wiping my arm off with the napkin from the table. “Whatever you think I’ve done, it doesn’t give you the right to spit on me. You don’t like me, fine. You don’t want me in your city? Too bad. I didn’t want my parents kidnapped and mind-wiped when I was six. I didn’t want to be stuck in this chair my whole life or have my boyfriend—”
Triple Threat lunges forward at me, lifting his foot like he’s going to kick me. I tense up as best I can, crossing my arms in front of me, but he doesn’t kick me. He kicks the side of my chair. He’s strong enough and has the right angle, the whole thing flips on its side, spilling me onto the floor with a scream. I hit the ground with a thump and the chair, all three hundred pounds of it, topples on me with a ground-shaking thump. I hear something snap in my leg, but I don’t feel it. I squeeze my eyes shut. I know I’d be fully justified in suiting up and smashing their faces in, but I refuse to give in. I will have the moral high ground here.
Gasps fill the air as the people watching react. There is a restaurant full of guests and up until this point, no one said anything. Interfering with a costumed superhero is akin to interfering with the police in most cases.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hear a man yell. “Get away from her,” he says. He has an air of authority about him.
“She’s not really paralyzed, she’s faking it and we’re going to show the world she’s a fraud,” Witch yells back. So that was their plan? Knock me out of my chair when I wasn’t expecting it? I can’t believe they thought I wasn’t paralyzed. Idiots. I don’t know what’s worse, their idiotic plan, or the fact that I let them get this close to me.
I’m face down in the very nice
carpet Ivar’s has, with my palms pressed against the ground trying to keep the chair from crushing my ribs. “A little help here,” I say. My breath comes out in ragged gasps.
Amelia, you need immediate medical attention. Your vitals are all over the place.
“Call Kate,” I grunt. The man who’s yelling at the supers kneels down next to me and puts his hands under the chair and heaves.
“Damn honey, your chair weighs a ton.” He grunts as he lifts, he legs quivering with the effort. Enforcer breaks free from whatever keeps him from acting and he grabs the corner of my chair and easily lifts it up and sits it down on the wheels.
“I’m gonna be sick,” someone says. The man, an off-duty police officer if the gun on his belt under his suit jacket is any indication, puts his hands in front of my eyes.
“Don’t look,” he says. “You’re better off not seeing it.” He stands up and turns on Weather Witch and Triple Threat. “Are you out of your damn mind? Put your hands up, you’re under arrest.”
I think I’m as shocked as they are.
“Excu— excuse me?” Triple says.
“Are you deaf as well as stupid? You just attacked an innocent civilian in a wheelchair. I don’t know what your beef with her is, but no one can keep from screaming with bone sticking out of their skin. Look at her? Does she even look like she’s in pain?”
Oh God. A fracture? “Epic, I need Kate!” I yell out loud. The officer glances at me.
“Don’t worry, ma’am, I’ll get paramedics.”
I am working on it. Her phone is off, routing calls through alternates.
I hit the floor with a fist, desperately trying not to look down. I know what will happen, I’ll pass out.
“Hands behind your back,” the officer says as he reaches behind him and pulls out a pair of cuffs. I miss what happens next because Kate appears with a pop of displaced air.
Shock sends her eyes wide, right before rage consumes her beautiful features. She glares death at the northwest team. “You’re lucky she isn’t who you think she is or you would all be dead right now.”
The police officer jumps from the venom in Kate’s voice and the fact that she wasn’t there a second before. “Take her to a hospital. I’ll contact you for a statement later, Ms. Lockheart,” the officer says.
I nod, breaking out in sweat as shock rolls over me like an old friend. “Kate,” I gasp, trying to breathe.
“I’ve got you hon. Hang tight. Epic, can you take care of her armor?”
I will.
Kate slips her arms under me and lifts me effortlessly as she stands. I cling to her shoulder, not from pain, but from anxiety and shock. As she turns to teleport us out, I see the officer slapping cuffs on Triple Threat. Behind them, a bystander has his phone out filming the whole thing. Great.
162
“Amelia, seriously. You haven’t even been home a month. You can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Teddy says with a stern look as he finishes wrapping my leg. He’s placed a temporary splint on it. “Your foot isn’t even fully healed yet. Your body is at its limits for what it can take. You need to increase the number of calories from protein you are getting, and you need to drink more water. Stay off your leg, and that means no armor, not even if the moon falls out of the sky? Understand?”
No armor? Usually, a fracture this bad would require a cast. However, Teddy was able to expend some of his personal energy and accelerate the healing process once the bone was set correctly. It’s a miracle I didn’t need surgery.
“For how long?” I ask. I try not to sound like I’m whining but I fail.
“A week, at least.” He glances up at Kate, who’s standing next to me with the patience of a saint. “I expect you to stay with her and keep her from doing anything stupid,” he says while packing up.
“For a girl in a wheelchair, you manage to have a lot of injuries,” she says to me as Teddy leaves. Once he’s gone I rest my head against her stomach and she runs her hands through my hair.
“It was awful, Kate. They were so mad at me. I know some people don’t agree with me, but they were ready to throw down. If I had armored up it would have turned into a full-on fight, but I’m not sure how this is better,” I say with a sigh. I keep my eyes closed in the hopes that maybe this will all just go away.
“This is better because a local filmed it. It’s all over the Internet. You’ve gone viral my dear.”
Oh no. “Epic, my parents? Are they okay?”
Yes. I evacuated them via Emjet. They have requested permission to come to Phoenix for a few days next week. I believe they are thinking of moving here.
“Amelia, what happened with them? You’re excited!”
“Let’s just say, before the Pacific Northwest Dorks interrupted us, we had a breakthrough.” I tell her all about it, how we hugged and the way it made me feel. Also, how guilty I feel about letting so much time go by.
“It’s normal, Amelia, you’re not acting in any way that is at all worrisome,” she says, patting me on the shoulder.
“Well, that doesn’t change that I wasted so much time I could have had with them.”
She lets out a big sigh. “Stop blaming yourself for everything. Good lord, Amelia. Your shoulders aren’t that big.”
She’s right, I know she’s right. It doesn’t change anything, but at least I know she’s right.
“Off to bed?” she asks, moving behind me to push.
The time in my glasses reads barely ten pm. “Uh, no. I’ve got work to do. Wanna join me in the lab? I can show you all the cool things I’m working on.”
She shakes her head, brushing a strand of black hair out of her face. “I want to see how Carlos is doing before I call it a night.”
“Let me know if he wakes up?” I ask her.
“Teddy doesn’t expect him to wake up until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest.” Kate stops and leans against the door jamb, looking back at me for a second. I think she’s going to say something else, but she just gives me a little sad smile.
A second later she’s gone in a pop. I roll over to the bookshelf and pull the lever. The wall refuses to move. “Epic, something wrong with the door to the lab...”
Nothing is wrong, I am overriding it.
“Epic,” I draw out his name in a long breath. “Please open the door?”
I will once you have had a chicken sandwich and some beans. Teddy has filed his prescription with me and I intend to enforce it.
I glance over my shoulder at the kitchen. Memories of Luke spending time in there making me food flash through my mind and I sigh. I sure miss him. Rolling around, I head for the kitchen, shaking my head and muttering about mutinous AIs the entire time.
I toss my seventh can of Coke into the trash, rub my eyes for a few seconds and then refocus. My food sits half eaten and long abandoned as I yawn while scrolling through all my ideas for dealing with Luke. I’d come in here with the intention of finding the Armory or tracking down Tempus, but I can’t stop thinking about Luke.
Amelia, it has been six hours since Kate left. Perhaps some sleep would clear things up for you.
“I can sleep when I’m dead,” I say with a grin, then wince—that was in poor taste, even for me. “You know what I mean,” I tell Epic with a shrug.
I do indeed. If you insist on staying up, might I suggest you change focus? Perhaps putting your talents to work in a different capacity will help you come up with something to stop Luke?
He’s not wrong, as usual. Everything I’ve come up with will eventually be countered by the entity in the Gem. I can’t contain an F5—no one really can, except for the UltraMax. The only real way they have of holding the F5 strongmen is by gassing them and keeping them in medically induced comas. That doesn’t help me. I want Luke back, not in a coma. If only there was a way to neutralize his powers temporarily so the Gem could be extracted from his possession. He apparently keeps it on him.
I pull up the specs of the belt I designed for Monica—the one that allows her
to be human for short periods of time. It’s specific to her, but maybe I could modify it to affect Luke? I shake my head. No, that won’t work. The belt helps her because of the carrier wave that connects her to the ice dimension. Luke doesn’t have such a connection. The origination of his powers is a one-way connection.
I swipe through the air, dismissing the screen entirely and leaning back to massage my face. Once I’ve refreshed my eyes a bit I wheel over to the MK VII. It’s pretty much done—all I need to do is add in the missing kinetic manipulator and the suit will be ready for test drive. I smile. Tempus is going to be in for a big surprise when he tries to use the one he took. I may not be able to control who has what, but the stuff I build all has countermeasures now. If Tempus wants it to work, he’s going to have to come back and talk to me.
Where my MK VI is designed for variable rolls, from close combat, riot duty, containment, heck I even have a natural disaster version, the MK VII is the spiritual successor to my alien armor. While not as powerful as her predecessor in that respect, she carries a Sword O’ Doom, two particle beams, my double-barreled grenade launcher, IP Canons, Kinetic Lance, four tank-missiles, and the rifle-sized mass driver with a fifty-round mag. Not only that, her armor is twice as tough and half as thick as the MK III. I’m gonna wipe the floor with the Armory, then, when I’m done beating the hell out of them, find out where they got their tech from.
“Any luck tracing who hacked Artemis?” I ask Epic, while I go about installing the last kinetic manipulator.
I have traced it through over one-hundred different dead ends. Whoever did this is either better at computers than I am, or they spent a long, long time figuring this out. I am leaning toward the former.
“Epic, you’re an AI—no one is better at code than you are,” I reassure him while I attach the super-capacitors to the unit. It isn’t about generating power for me at this point, it’s about moving that power where it needs to go without blowing everything. A series of super-capacitors help me regulate flow and store energy for when it’s needed.
Full Metal Superhero Box Set [Books 1-6] Page 87