Without saying goodbye, Snake man grabbed his headset and tossed it onto the ground. As he raised his hand, something metal and shiny hurtled through the air at him. He caught the object in midair, as if he summoned it from another dimension.
On the verge of passing out again, Andrey didn’t identify the item right away because a part of his mind was alert enough to recognize the cocking sound of a gun’s hammer.
His fingers fumbled at the chains. The luminescent energy should have tingled beneath his skin, but it didn’t. His attempt to channel his power triggered a new wave of nausea and the memory of a familiar voice from not too long ago. Male, not quite a friend but almost.
If you go there, you’ll die.
Andrey closed his eyes, descending into darkness.
Wait for me, Angel. I’m coming.
7.8 Beacon
Trubino, Russia
Friday, the 15th of June, 2012
5:44 p.m.
Time trickled away while Andrey waited for the gray-walled room to disappear or for the three people to return. The murmur of voices had ceased a while ago, but he still heard the metallic clatter of Snake man’s distant footsteps.
The footsteps were soon replaced with a different noise. A shout, sharp and commanding, pierced the air before it was drowned out by a loud bang which silenced the rhythmic clang of metal. Andrey sensed movement, but it was too fast to track. A sudden surge of heat increased the air temperature to uncomfortable levels.
His dazed mind barely registered any of it, but a primordial part of himself recognized the danger of heat. He jerked from side to side to free himself as tight chains dug into his flesh, and the pressure of the metal against his neck made it hard to breathe. He gasped for air, blacking out again. He regained consciousness long enough to see flames crackling and hissing all around him. As he attempted to roll sideways and away from the heat, a wave of agony ripped from his shoulder to his legs. The tight chains restricted his movement too much to escape. All he could do was lay still and wait until the air cooled or until he was baked to a crisp. Whichever came first.
He must have passed out because the next thing he knew it was silent and his vision returned. He stared at a water-stained cement ceiling, dimly illuminated by a single light bulb dangling from a red cable. The searing pain in his shoulder overtook his consciousness, making it hard to focus on anything else. He clenched his teeth in an attempt to shut the agony from his mind. Moments passed. Another shout rang somewhere nearby, the words incomprehensible.
The fire’s gone, he eventually realized. There wasn’t anymore heat or flames consuming his field of vision.
Discovering that he could move his eyes again, Andrey looked at himself to see a mass of chains and blood-soaked leather enveloping his torso. A steel spike the length of his forearm jutted from his left shoulder. Though his mind was still bleary, the sight of the harpoon uncovered a flood of jumbled memory fragments.
They trapped me … reeled me in … drugged me … took my powers … threw me in this basement?
Movement drew his attention to the doorway on his right. He turned his head to find a broad-shouldered figure standing there, dressed all in black. A balaclava concealed the man’s face except for his eyes, and a thick rope-like braid hung over one shoulder.
But Andrey’s attention was on the huge double-bladed ax the man was wielding. The weapon glowed with such intensity, it filled the whole room with a fiery amber hue. Even in his dazed, confused state he recognized it for what it was: a deadly weapon. It made him feel threatened.
His fingers convulsed in a desperate attempt to channel his power and defend himself, but his innate energy was beyond his grasp. “No,” he growled. “Go away.”
The masked man spat an incomprehensible volley of words. Desperate to escape before the glowing ax hit him, Andrey struggled sluggishly against his chains, blood gushing from his shoulder wound. But instead of hitting him, the masked man lowered the ax and crouched beside him.
“Hold still.” The man spoke slowly, now using a familiar-sounding language. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
I know you, Andrey realized, frustrated by his inability to identify the voice as friend or foe. Too weak to fight, he let his head fall back against the hard basement floor and focused on breathing in short, shallow gasps.
The masked man raised his fingers and a greenish glow swirled around them. The luminescence flickered before becoming a symbol of entwined bands of light extending until they merged into the glow of the ax. The blade’s color changed from red to green.
The masked man stood and raised the ax, gripping the shaft with both hands, and swung it with all his strength. Andrey barely had time to flinch in anticipation of an attack. He strained to roll himself out of the way, but the movement constricted the chain around his neck and pinched his windpipe. Metal bonds shattered while a loud clang reverberated throughout the room. Bits and pieces of chain sailed through the air, and bursts of green light faded upon contact with the cement floor. The harpoon shaft dissolved, but the tip remained lodged in Andrey’s shoulder, poking through his blood-soaked leather jacket.
“Who … are … you?” he garbled in a whisper. Those were all the words he could manage.
The masked man bent to examine the protruding metal shaft. “What the fuck did they do to you? Wait here.” He walked away, disappearing from view while wisps of green light trailed his wake.
Move, Andrey commanded his body, but the effort of sitting up sent another surge of agony through his veins. His gasping cry faded to a whimper the instant he stopped his movements so he lay there and stared at the ceiling. He could almost see the angel’s face in the shadows beneath the swaying light bulb.
Natalya. His lips curled into a painful grimace at the thought. Now he felt more at peace than he had in how long? He couldn’t even remember.
Unexpected movement at his side stirred him from his daze. Had he passed out again? Someone now kneeled beside him, grabbing his uninjured arm. Too weak to even think about resisting, Andrey stared at the slender masked newcomer who was dressed in black like the other man.
“Relax.” The new arrival sounded younger than the first man, his voice a higher pitch. “I’m getting you out of here.”
But … I can’t … walk.
Before the idea had formed, the small room dwindled away in a blur of bright colors and surging light which caused Andrey’s stomach to leap. The colors soon reassembled into shapes he recognized. A meadow of green grass. Chamomile flowers growing wild. Olive trees with gnarled, reaching branches. A breeze carrying a sickly sweet smell with fetid undertones.
Is this heaven?
He strained to look at the slender masked man for confirmation, but, once his eyes were able to focus, the man vanished. Andrey blinked hard, and moments later the slender figure reappeared with another masked person. The one with the ax.
He’s … that’s … I know him….
Eventually, he realized there was a third black-clad and masked person off to the side, slumped over and sobbing in deep baritone rasps. A fourth squirmed on the ground, making small sounds reminiscent of an injured baby animal. But she was a person, a girl. Her mask had been pulled off to reveal a face contorted in ways that Andrey had never seen before. Eventually it dawned on him that the smell in the air was burned flesh.
Not heaven. He reached out in her direction, clenching his teeth to ride out the surge of pain coursing through his body. For all his effort, his fingers made contact with nothing but a handful of grass.
Too far… can’t help….
The tall masked man let go of his ax before dropping to his knees. For a long moment no one spoke. The rustle of the wind was mixed with those inhuman whimpering sounds that soon stopped, causing the figure leaning over to sob even more. Part of Andrey felt responsible, though he didn’t understand why. “I’m … sorry,” he managed, unsure if anyone heard him.
The kneeling man raised his head to tear the ski mask from his fac
e, shooting Andrey a forsaken look through angry, tear-filled eyes. “I hope whatever you had to do there was worth it,” he said in a voice raspy from crying.
So quiet now, Andrey’s confused mind realized. Is she dead?
“We tried to stop this from happening. But you wouldn’t listen, would you? Aura said it was either you or Skyfire who would die here today.” The kneeling man with the braid dipped his head over the silent sprawled figure. “She knew, and she still decided to come save your sorry ass.”
I … I didn’t know….
Andrey still didn’t understand exactly what he hadn’t known, but he was certain he never would have done anything to hurt the girl. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.
The young man closest to Andrey spoke. “He’s barely conscious. He needs to get to the hospital, Rune.”
So that’s his name. Rune. Understanding teased the edges of Andrey’s consciousness, still out of reach.
The kneeling man stood, reaching for the ax in the grass. “Of course. Take him. Take her, too. We can’t let her folks see her like this.”
Andrey was too out of it to understand anything. Faces became a blur and voices converged to a steady hum of noise. Colors drained away, fading to shades of white and gray, and earthy scents were replaced by pungent smells. Eventually, everything faded into nothingness. Even the pain.
***
When Andrey finally regained consciousness, he found himself surrounded by a silent darkness devoid of pain. The ache in his shoulder had ebbed to a dull throb, easy to ignore. His hand rested against a metal rail along the side of the bed.
Where am I?
As he raised his right hand to rub the fatigue from his crust-caked eyes, he felt the scratch of heavy beard stubble around his mouth. Hadn’t he shaved in the morning? Puzzled, he lowered his hand onto the soft linen sheets draped across his stomach, and let his eyes roam.
The darkness around him wasn’t absolute. Pale white light flowed through a large window to his left. Dawn? Dusk? He couldn’t tell, but the room around him was illuminated enough to realize he was in a hospital bed.
Andrey glanced at his left shoulder and saw it encased in white bandages and a sling. The sight triggered a memory, drawing a gasp from his throat. I was shot and drugged.
Other memories flooded back in vivid detail. The bodies in the field next to St. Sergius, robbed of their humanity. Dropping from the sky, disconnected from his powers, rendered blind and helpless. Anything after that was a hazy blur tinged with a sadness he couldn’t explain.
Andrey was relieved to find the luminescent energy within himself and as he reconnected with it, his hands tingled with potential. Soon the warmth spread throughout his entire body. A golden glow bled from his fingertip across the back of his hand, even though the wave of energy was dimmer and more short-lived than it should have been. Still, he was relieved to discover his powers were not permanently crippled.
And yet….
Those same powers had endangered the people he cared most about. His family. The people of Trubino. All because he once used those same powers on behalf of the Covenant. Christina had called him a Beacon, though the compliment was no longer reassuring. Radiant attracted trouble, and it was the people he loved who suffered for it.
He sank back into his pillow and let his hand drop onto the bed, its glow extinguished by his brooding mood. As he let his gaze wander around the perimeter of the room, he noticed a slumped silhouette against the window. Shadows covered most of the face, but Andrey recognized the braid that hung over one broad shoulder.
“Rune?” he asked, his throat rough and scratchy.
The figure stirred before jerking upright.
“You’re awake,” Rune said, groggy with sleep. “Took you long enough.”
“How long was I out?” Andrey rasped.
Rune rubbed his face with his large rough hands. “Too long. Nearly two days.”
The sound of the Swedish hero’s voice brought back other memories. Aura’s prophecy. The smell of burned flesh along with the pitiful whimpers and sobs. Andrey wanted to ask how the rest of Rune’s team was doing, but, as the haze cleared from his mind and memories settled into previously blank spaces, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He couldn’t bear to acknowledge Skyfire’s sacrifice.
He pictured her the way he saw her at the hotel suite in Liverpool: armed with a glass of booze with a scowl on her face. Her eyes had demanded answers as much as Rune’s did now.
She didn’t trust me, but she gave her life for mine. The realization weighed on his heart. I should have protected her.
He swallowed the bitterness in his throat. “Thanks for sitting with me, Rune.”
Rune grunted. “I have a question that’s bugging me, and you’re the only one who can answer it.”
Andrey used his good arm to raise himself and meet the other hero’s eyes. “What is it? I’m awake now so let’s talk.”
“You’re damn right, let’s talk. Tell me why Nadia died. Tell me it wasn’t bullheaded Russian honor shit. It might help if you tried to save the world. It wouldn’t bring her back, but maybe Milan could stop grieving and move on.”
Milan? Crashbang? Andrey cursed himself for his dodgy name memory again.
“I’m sorry, Rune.” For all the times he said those words in his life, he never meant them so much as he did now.
Rune’s mouth pressed into a grim line. “It was her decision to go after you, you know. Something about the Liverpool broadcast and the feedback theory got lodged in her head. When she heard you were going to Trubino despite Aura’s warning, she was adamant. There was no way she was going to let a psychotic villain inherit your speed of light. Her words, not mine. Figured we couldn’t let your sorry ass get roasted.” He snorted a mirthless chuckle.
“Was it Nusku who…” Andrey began, unable to finish the question. The words killed her stuck in his throat, stopping more words from coming.
Rune’s jaw worked in silent fury before he found the strength to continue. “You got it right. They boarded all the basement windows so Checkmate teleported us blind. Crashbang went first and took out the Goth freak with the chains. But the bang alerted Nusku, who set the whole fucking room on fire.” His voice wavered so he took a deep breath. “Nadia was in the worst spot. She took the brunt of it.”
“I’m so sorry, Rune,” Andrey repeated, his voice barely a whisper. “So, so sorry.”
Rune turned his head to stare at the wall. “You know the irony of it all? Nusku had a goddamn power surge right after he killed her. I saw those fire walls grow, man.”
Andrey’s head dropped back in disbelief. She didn’t want a psychotic villain to inherit my speed of light, so they got her powers instead. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.
“It was her decision, but my call to make.” Rune was talking to himself now. “I’m still the guy with the responsibility.”
I know what that feels like.
“You want to know the worst part, man?” Rune looked Andrey straight in the eye. “I knew better. I knew what would happen, but I still allowed it. I’ve never slipped like that before.”
Andrey knew that Rune’s team had never enjoyed the benefits of Saint’s protection. Unlike the Covenant, they didn’t have any choice except to concede their own mortality.
A siren howled somewhere outside the hospital. Ambulance lights intermittently flooded the room, illuminating Rune’s glowering face with flashes of red.
Andrey pushed himself to break the silence first. “It’s not your fault, Rune.” It was mine.
Rune said nothing.
“You’re sure about the power surge?”
“I’m sure. You didn’t see it, Andrey. I did.”
“Did you get him?”
“No. He used the fire as cover so we couldn’t see shit. The short woman escaped, too, never got more than a glimpse of her. Must have used a type of teleporting.”
“The town?” Andrey’s fingers tapped a staccato
rhythm against the bedsheet, defying the calmness of his voice.
“Your town and your folks are safe. Nusku’s barrier disappeared when he did.” As Rune leaned closer the wooden chair creaked beneath his bulk. “Your turn. Explain. Tell me why Nadia died.”
“I evacuated my mother and my brother’s family from Russia, but I still have kin there,” Andrey said. “Two aunts, an uncle, and cousins. Two of them live in the southwestern part of town. I couldn’t sit back after hearing about burned corpses on the news. Could you?”
The other man shook his head before tapping a finger against his stubbled cheek. “The villains didn’t kill any of the townsfolk, but I suppose you didn’t know that. Is that it, or do you have anything else to add?”
“I’ve handled situations like that for more than a year, Rune. I made choices the last time Aura warned me about danger, back in the hotel, and those choices turned out to be right for me. I found a way out last time. I was sure I could do it again.”
Rune snorted. “You’ve grown accustomed to immortality. Saint had you covered, didn’t he?”
“He did,” Andrey said. “But we never understood his power or its limits. Tell me what happened in Trubino, Rune. I can’t undo it, and I’ll pay my dues.”
He looked at his hand on the bedsheet and noticed his fingers didn’t twitch. He felt calm, his mind clear of the red haze which consumed him when he first heard the news of villains targeting his birth town. But the memory of the girl stuck in his head, refusing to let go.
Barely twenty. Good lord.
“Hmm. My turn to talk, then.” Rune settled back on his chair, relaxing. “Don’t know how they did it, and I can’t wait to hear it from you. Hook caught you with a chain he had tied to himself, coated with Power Zero. He and Nusku channeled their powers through Dollet’s dolls. They dragged you into the basement of a house whose occupants they locked on the first floor. Do you know about Power Zero? You barely even remembered your own name when we handed you over to the medical staff.”
Superluminary (Powered Destinies Book 1) Page 78