by J. B. Garner
"I do not have an answer to that," he confessed. "The effects of the machine itself can only be counteracted by an equal application of God particles but, with the brainwave amplification loop from your device, it would take thousands of believers all focused on counteracting his desires."
"What about power concerns?" Thunder echoed in my ears as the enraged vampire called down a barrage of lightning on Archer. He would have been fried if Tank hadn't charged by, ferrying the armored bowman to safety. Medusa took the opening to pounce, injecting Bathory with a full dose of her petrifying venom before collecting a swift backhand for her efforts.
"Obviously, his lack of electrical power to the device limits its effect and range, but it is still more than sufficient to destroy anyone or anything. Nothing can stand up to raw reality."
"That can't be true, Eric." I grabbed him by the shoulders, the real shoulders. "I resisted the Whiteout, so did Mackenzie. It can't be impossible to resist this." Slowed as parts of her body turned to stone and instantly regenerated, the Countess found herself suddenly enclosed by a solid block of ice as Extinguisher swept by, a block instantly turned from ice to stone as Medusa stared hard, wiping the blood from her nose and mouth.
"I think, then, that the person you need to ask isn't Eric Flynn or even Epic," he said, shrugging out of my grasp. "You should instead speak to Irene Roman." He frowned as a white glowing aura gathered around him. "Act swiftly, my love, for I already feel that some great power interferes with the faith energy surrounding all of us." He jetted forward, leaving a shockwave in his wake.
What did he mean by that? I wasn't like him: there wasn't an Irene Roman and an Indomitable. Or was there? Just a few days ago I was cursing the very mask I was wearing, like it was a living thing I could stomp on. Was that it? Was that the secret? Could that machine affect me earlier because I was giving in to much to the twisted reality all around me?
"All together now!" Ex shouted over the roaring winds and thunder. Hex hefted a car over his head. Archer knocked one more bolt as he helped Medusa to her feet with his free hand. Mind's Eye telekinetically gathered a bevy of wooden debris into an cloud of projectiles around her as Tank charged his plasma blast. Extinguisher spiraled up over the shuddering block of stone, hands rimmed in a blue corona as Epic sped in with startling speed. Just as the stone block exploded into fragments, they all struck in rapid succession. The very air seemed to tear asunder from the violence of the collective onslaught of the seven Push Heroes.
Dust and debris swirled through the air as my eyes cleared. I couldn't make out what the end result of the assault was until Epic emerged from the cloud, violently ejected by some tremendous unseen force. Hexagon was the next thrown aside like a rag doll and that was what made me move. There was no way to defeat Bathory like this. No doubt my perceptions and Epic's observations were right. Mackenzie might not have the power to change all of reality or even alter the whole battlefield, but he was feeding raw faith energy into Bathory and dampening everyone else's powers. If he was doing all of that, though, it was doubtful he could be far away. I just had to hope everyone could live long enough for me to find and stop Mackenzie.
I had to clear my head and focus. Just like I had fallen into a role in this new reality, Mackenzie had as well, whether he admitted it or not. It was very likely he would fall into the same cycles I had; he would act his part. Where would a master planner, the villain who always struck from the shadows, hide himself where he could watch his enemies be destroyed? He would find a way to hide in plain sight, as a personal testament to his guile and cunning.
I stopped myself, trying not to listen to the sounds of pain and fury of battle as my team, my family, fought for their lives. My eyes wandered the area, my accelerated mind running the angles, searching out every vantage. That's when it struck me. I focused on the few remaining police officers, ensconced behind the rooftop barricade by the Capitol's golden dome. How had they remained unscathed through all of this? The squad captain had a very bulky backpack on, a very non-regulation one. I heard, behind me, the screech of tires over the rumbling thunder. I could only hope that was Rachel and Duane with their secret weapon, which would be useless if I didn't get to Mackenzie.
Without a second thought, I hopped on top of the remains of the pillar Bathory had been driven through, using that as a boost to launch myself up to the top of the Capitol's porch. That half-smirk, the sheer focus on his face: that man was Mackenzie. No doubt he had more of his human flunkies in uniform here the whole time. The thing was they were so sure of the infallibility of their disguise they didn't even pay me mind as I rushed up to the barricade.
I was about to change that as I leaped over the barrier with a battle cry.
Chapter 20 Sunrise
There were two satisfying crunches as I scissored my legs in mid-vault. Two of the eight Hogs-in-police-clothing dropped like rocks. My presence was registered by the rest of them, but the brain impulses that identified me as a threat were still pulsing. Mackenzie, however, reacted instantly, dancing out of my immediate grasp as he drew an automatic pistol. The fact that he didn't instantly teleport away was indicative of the limits of the power he had available. As he aimed, I spun fast to my right, grabbing one of the unlucky foot recipients by his jacket. Proving once and for all I was faster than the FBI agent-turned-terrorist, I spun fully around by the time he pulled the trigger, letting the goon with the bullet-proof vest take the two shots for me.
"Stop her," Mackenzie barked, "she's just one normal woman!" He didn't believe that for a moment, but I suppose he had to tell his minions something to keep them from cutting and running. I shoved my current dance partner hard in the back, sending him barreling into another of his buddies. Unlike the Hogs Ian had in the laboratory, this batch was smart enough and cunning enough to realize that uncontrolled shooting into a brawl was stupid. The two closest to me dropped their rifles and rushed me from both sides, while another seemed to be taking advantage of this to stow her rifle and draw a police baton.
I didn't have time for this; Mackenzie and his device were the real goal. I ducked my shoulder towards the fastest of my two attackers, catching him off-balance as I threw him across my body. The sound of him bouncing off my other attacker was reassuring. Two steps forward and a knee lift to the chin got Baton Betty out of my way. No doubt Ian had stressed the importance of the device, because the remaining three terrorists took a defense stance around their leader and opened up with a spray of suppressing fire in my direction.
Instinct and adrenaline took over as I ran, tumbled, and leaped ahead of their aim, bullets flying and bouncing all around me. A particularly close shot creased the back of my left shoulder, but I instantly shut off the pain. To my other side, I stole a glance at the ongoing battle against the Countess Bathory. It wasn't going well. Even Epic, the physical god on Earth, had bleeding wounds from tangling with the empowered vampire. Could Ian's machine have weakened him that much? Doubtful, but it could have compromised his confidence. I had seen for myself how Eric's powers could ebb and flow with his mental state. What truly surprised me though was the sight of a person I really didn't think I would see again. Rachel was by the Pushed girl's side, while Duane emptied a shotgun full of silver buckshot in Bathory's direction. Yes, I had told him that silver was for werewolves, but he decided to take no chances.
The young woman was Alma Gutierrez. She was the first Pushed I had the chance to scientifically study. As far as I had known, I had managed to turn her away from joining the ranks of the Push Heroes or Pushcrooks, instead pointing her to focus on her schoolwork at Georgia Tech. Her crystalline body was, if anything, even more remarkable in the rain and dark, as it caught even the smallest bit of light from the streetlamps, the flash of supernatural powers, and the flaming debris. What the hell was Rachel thinking bringing her into this? What could she do?
It hit me at about the same time the flash-bang grenade I had missed went off. It all had to do with the Sun, which was brighter than the flash
of magnesium powder, but not by much. Blind and deaf in one fell swoop, I almost tripped over my own feet, but my enhanced reflexes forced myself into a tumble instead of a trip. I relied on pure memory to rapidly crawl behind what I was certain was one of the battered but intact barricades. The only clue I had that I wasn't still out in the open was the remarkable lack of bullet holes in my body.
I closed my eyelids and tried, as silly as it sounded, to will my eyes and ears to work, curling my body up as tight as possible to make the smallest target I could. What I had yet to figure was how they would use Alma's crystalline facets to focus and split the power of the Sun when we didn't have a Sun to focus. Yes, technically, moonlight is simply reflected sunlight, but for some reason, it hadn't affected the vampires so far. On top of that, Bathory's summoned thunderstorm would abate no time soon. It would take a miracle to summon sunlight in the middle of the night and the last I had checked we didn't have God on our side.
Realization dawned as somehow blurry vision and echoed hearing began to return to me. We didn't have God, but we had someone with almost as much power. That was why Rachel had Archer bring in Epic and the Crusaders. All of that was worthless though if I couldn't stop that machine.
A blurry man-sized shape lurched into view next to me, causing the only reaction I thought appropriate: I rolled up to my feet and punched it somewhere that I hoped was actually it's center of mass. The shape cried out in pain and dropped down into a smaller blurry shape. There were more starry flashes in the distance so I ducked down as the warble of echoing gunfire passed over my head. A straight advance in my condition was suicide and I didn't have time to wait for my senses to finish clearing. I clenched my fist and glanced at the blurry image of the barricade I was leaning against. Idea.
The reason that mankind stopped using armor in warfare was because you just couldn't wear enough crap to stop bullets. Even 'bullet-proof' vests were really more 'bullet-resistant' than anything. However, the armored barricade that I held awkwardly ahead of me, muscles straining under the weight, was plenty bullet-proof. I was sure, even with my echoing hearing, one of the remaining soldiers muttered something about me being no ordinary woman. On that note, I charged, bullets spanging off the barricade, hoping to get to them before my strength decided to give out. The feeling of a sudden fleshy impact and the resultant cries of pain on the other side was all the cue I needed to drop the barricade, giving it a little heft forward. Another round of painful shouts let me know I had set down my burden in just the right place.
"No, Irene, you are not going to stop this," Mackenzie, slowly resolving into a proper image, said, his gun unwaveringly aimed at my head. A flare of light shone from behind me as I stared down the barrel, waiting for the twitch of the trigger finger. The coms were blaring in my ear, distorted but finally comprehensible.
"Get her off of them, team," Ex ordered. "If we can't keep Epic and Alma safe, it's game over."
"Thossse Crussader friendsss of hiss are letting too many through."
"Out of bolts, friends, my apologies. To fisticuffs then!"
"I don't know how, but my telekinetic shields are fading. I can't push them back anymore!"
There was some kind of pressure wave that rattled the building from the lawn below. Shouts of pain, my friends' shouts of pain, filled the air. It wasn't Elizabeth Bathory that was killing my friends. Ian Mackenzie was.
"One last chance, Dr. Roman," Ian said, cold as ice, never once wavering. "You can help me fix all this. Your friends dying down there? Fixed. All the people I had to kill to get here? Living. It's so simple. Please." Only when he said that final word did I get any sense of emotion in his eyes. Somewhere deep down, there was a man who wanted to make it all better. Just like Eric did when he changed the world.
I moved like greased lightning at Mackenzie. Though I was faster than he was, Ian's enhanced reflexes were still remarkable and a bullet is still a bullet. The first shot hit right below the right collarbone, recoil brought the second through the meat of my right shoulder, but I felt no pain. Nothing was going to stop me this time. His finger started to squeeze one more time, but I swatted at the gun with enough force to break his wrist. The gun skittered uselessly away. For the first time, I saw the resolve in Mackenzie's eyes flicker. I growled as white motes began to gather around him in direct proportion to the storm fading overhead.
"Next time, Indomitable."
No, I screamed in my head and threw all of my weight behind a final punch. In a last ditch effort to save his face from multiple fractures, Ian turned away from the punch. Instead of his face, my hand slammed into the backpack containing the reality device. A crunch of metal and a spray of sparks erupted from the pack.
There was a look of existential horror on Ian Mackenzie's face as the white motes suddenly exploded around him. When the flash cleared, the man was gone, leaving behind only a smoking hat filled with electrodes.
"What the hell just happened?" Duane shouted over the com.
"Shoot fire, I feel like a million bucks!" Hexagon hooted.
"I think Irene did it, guys. Let's wrap this up double-time," Ex commanded. "Mind, Tank, Hex, sweep 'em back. Meds, give Bathory another look, you might have better luck this time. I'll give our secret weapon some cover. Do it!"
I smiled, despite the blood running down my uniform, and walked to the edge of the roof, hand pressed to the worst of the two bullet wounds. The storm clouds overhead were rapidly fading away as moonlight began to shine down on the battle-tossed streets below me.
At the center of the lawn, a tattered Epic concentrated and a white circular portal opened, cascading pure, warm sunlight out of it. Alma, who I thought I had saved from this life, was bathed in the light and it reflected, intensified, and refracted. The weakest of the vampiric hordes began to run at the first sight of the Sun's rays. Bathory, stubborn to the end, instead lunged, despite being half-stone. Mind's Eye stopped her with a telekinetic wall before Extinguisher froze her legs to the ground. Hexagon and Medusa each grabbed a flailing arm while the Human Tank brandished a glittering Star of David in the ancient monster's face.
My entire world lit up, like it had three months prior, but this time it was warm, radiant sunlight, bright but not blinding, projecting out from every facet of Alma Gutierrez’s living crystal body, from the cut angles of her muscles to the tiny planes of her eyes. Once more, the air was filled with screams, but they weren't the screams of my friends or the innocents they protected. It was the unholy death throes of the undead. When the sunlight struck one of the beasts, it swelled like an overdone hot-dog and exploded into a messy spray of rotting tissue and stolen blood.
Countess Elizabeth Bathory de Ecsed didn't explode like the others. Instead, the rays of sunlight pierced her ashen form like arrows, each shaft obliterating more and more of the stain of evil from the Earth. She did not scream as she was destroyed. Instead, she looked up, straight into my eyes. I couldn't tell if it was some shred of humanity that thanked me for her reprieve or the darkest depths of the ancient evil inside of her that cursed my soul. Either way, a shudder ran through my spine as she blew away. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
I could barely believe it, standing there, blood leaking between my fingers. We had done it. We had saved our city. Still, there was a hollow feeling to it all. How many policemen, firefighters, average citizens had died tonight, this week, as a result of all of this? In the end, the status quo prevailed. For all I knew, Ian Mackenzie could still be alive, free as a bird. All those brave men and women, dead for nothing. As Extinguisher raced up on his ice slide as he caught sight of me, I wondered if I had made the right choice.
Chapter 21 Parting
"Indy, are you -" Extinguisher asked.
"- okay?" I finished for him. "No, not really, but we won, so I can deal with it." I glanced down from the porch of the Capitol building. "Give a girl a lift?"
"My pleasure." Ex offered me a hand which I didn't need but was a nice gesture anyway.
"How bad off ar
e we?" I asked as we spiraled back down to where the others, my friends as well as Epic and his Crusaders, were gathering. Almost as if decreed by natural forces, the two groups had separated and seemed to stare at each other across an invisible divide.
"No one's dead, if that's what you're asking." I could see that his firefighter's coat was in tatters and he had more than a few seeping wounds as well as a swollen ear. "We're a lot worse off than Epic's goons, to be honest."
"Then let's not pick a fight." As we landed on the muddy lawn, I was met in mid-stumble by Duane, who threw my good arm over his shoulder.
"Nice work, Doc, but next time don't get shot, alright?" he asked as he began to lead me towards the truck he, Rachel, and Alma had arrived in.
"Hold on, Duane, just a minute." The former agent gave me a cross look but relented.
"Fine, do what you gotta do, but I'm working on you right here then." Duane waited a moment to make sure I wouldn't tumble on my own, then ran for the truck. I gave a glance at my friends, then at Alma, who underneath the crystal skin seemed both nervous and strangely content. Saving my words for her and Rachel for later, I finally settled my gaze on Epic and his Crusaders. I'm sure I wasn't the only one who noticed that the Argent Archer was still standing at the fringes of our group, checking on Medusa's wounds, instead of falling in step with his Lord Epic.
"It would appear that we have won the day," Epic offered. "What has become of the terrorist Ian Mackenzie?" The wounds the demigod had suffered were already healed and his compatriots had endured far less fighting than we had. I stood up straight, trying to look as strong as possible despite the bleeding holes in my body.
"He tried to teleport out once he realized he couldn't stop me," I said. "Right as he was blinking out, I hit his reality machine. I think something went very wrong and he poofed." I shrugged, despite my shoulder. "I don't know if he made it or was blown to atoms or erased from reality or what."