The Crucible (Steel City Heroes Book 2)

by LE Barbant

  Recalling Blackbow always made him think of Anna. An image of her body passed through his mind and he smiled to himself. People like him and Anna couldn’t settle down; domestication had been trained out of them. But if there were a chance, he’d take it with her any day. She was the only person who ever understood him fully.

  Tim smiled as he watched a young woman running in their direction. The good thing about gentrification was that some of the undergraduate students were actually moving into the area. Like Tim, they placed a premium on physical fitness. Short shorts and a sports bra were all that covered her petite frame.

  “Incoming,” Tim said with a smile. The guys turned. The irony of thinking of Anna one second and the young girl’s abs the next wasn’t completely lost on him.

  The girl slowed and came to a stop. “Hey,” she said with a smile. “Elijah, how’s it going?”

  “Hey, Lainey. Just hanging out. How’ve you been?”

  “Great. I love Pittsburgh in the summer.”

  She wiped sweat from her torso.

  “Me too,” Chem said under his breath.

  The girl looked at the oversized GPS unit weighing down her left wrist. “Alright, this is messing up my pace. Gotta go.”

  The girl bent down stretching her hamstrings for a beat and then up again. “See you around.”

  The girl ran off, and Chem slapped Elijah across the chest, making him wince. “You dog.”

  “It’s not like that. She’s just some kid that lives in the neighborhood. She’s nice.”

  Tim was still watching her run off down the sidewalk. “I’d say.”

  Tim looked back toward the television and worked on finishing his beer. Roethlisberger threw a long ball toward a receiver who misread the route.

  Come on, guys. Teamwork.

  A scream rang out from down the street, piercing through the din of the bar.

  “Lainey,” Elijah yelled, knocking back his chair as he jumped to his feet. He hopped the little steel fence separating the bar from the sidewalk and took off toward the sound of struggle.

  Tim and Chem were on his heels.

  The chemist’s long legs soon outpaced the wounded soldier. Though he was up and moving, Tim was far from well. Every bone shifted as he limped around the corner. If he had been moving faster he would have crashed into Elijah, who stood frozen in place.

  Tim followed the historian’s line of sight.

  Street light reflected off a large figure, covered head to toe in metal plating. It looked like a steam-punk version of a medieval knight. The thick armor concealed its body, but red light shined through cracks in the mechanized suit.

  The “monster” before them was clearly of human origins.

  “Let me go, jagoff.” The walking tank held Lainey by the hair. She flailed, kicking her attacker with no effect.

  Anger boiled in Tim’s stomach as he remembered tussling with the brute. The mercenary was in peak shape and had the drop on him. But the moving statue had taken down the warrior with little effort. As he stood there, bandages still covering unhealed wounds, he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

  He looked over at Elijah and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Well I guess this answers our monster problem. You going to be able to bring out Mr. Hyde, Doc?” Tim said through gritted teeth.

  The professor looked at Tim, panic stamped across his face.

  “You can do this, man. Just concentrate,” Chem said.

  Elijah took a breath. He rolled up his sleeves, then unbuttoned the top half of his wrinkled blue dress shirt. He closed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. The change was immediate.

  It was like standing too close to a furnace about to explode. Elijah screamed as molten metal oozed out of his pores. The thick black substance covered his arms to the elbow. His eyes glowed red and the same light broke through cracks in his new skin.

  Tim had heard the stories about the molten metal monster. Even though Elijah’s change was only partial, Tim was still awed at the sight.

  “Damn. That’ll work,” he said.

  Smoke trailed behind him as Elijah took off toward the tank. The suit tossed the struggling girl and she landed hard on the hood of a nearby Taurus. Chem skirted the dueling titans and ran to her side. The chemist certainly wasn’t a fighter, though after a fight his medical training made him more useful than three strong men.

  The robotic suit wound up its bowling ball-sized fist and threw a wide arcing punch at Elijah. He blocked the slow-moving arm with his oozing, molten hand and countered with a vicious uppercut. The mech warrior staggered at the blow but held its ground. It raised both arms overhead and brought them down on the historian. Elijah tried to shield himself from the assault, but the impact threw him to the asphalt. He crawled to his feet and took two steps back, putting distance between him and the tank.

  Tim looked around, trying to find something that he could use as a weapon. He couldn’t do much against that armor, but he refused to stand by as his friend waged battle in his place. Next to him, a fixed-gear bike rested against a light pole, attached by a heavy chain and padlock—the security device of an over-paranoid hipster. Tim had other uses in mind. He picked up a broken piece of brick and started whaling on it.

  While working the lock, he looked back toward the action. Elijah successfully dodged the tank’s deliberate punches, but the few counterattacks that Elijah managed to land didn’t accomplish much. Despite his enhanced strength, it was clear that Elijah wasn’t a practiced fighter. His sloppy form was easily outmaneuvered by an opponent who knew what he was doing.

  Elijah tried to fake right to get on the other side of the tank, but he moved too slowly. The suit saw the move coming and countered with a solid hit to Elijah’s chest. The historian was knocked airborne and landed at Tim’s feet.

  Tim knelt beside him.

  “You OK, Eli?”

  Elijah lifted himself onto his elbow. The left side of his face was swollen and Tim could see blood seeping through his thick brown hair.

  “Shit, that hurts. Now I know how a punching bag feels.”

  Tim tried to help Elijah get to his feet, but the man weighed a ton. The ground shook underneath them as the armored attacker moved their way.

  “Quick, give me a hand with this.” Tim pointed toward the oversized bike lock.

  “No problem.”

  Elijah grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled. The padlock, its weakest link, exploded. Tim unwrapped the chain, slapping its six feet of length in front of them. “This will have to do. Let’s go.”

  “Are you sure you can handle this? You’re barely walking.”

  “It’s gonna take more than a dipshit in trumped-up riot gear to put me down. I’ve got a score to settle.”

  The two men spread out, circling the mech suit. Tim whipped the chain and struck the tank’s helmet, trying to draw its attention so Elijah could get behind it for an attack. “Come on, ya big fucking giant. Why don’t you get out of that shell and fight like a man?” But his taunting accomplished nothing. For some reason, the tank ignored the chain and trudged toward Elijah.

  Tim wound up, preparing to lash out in a wide arc when something pulled on the chain behind him, yanking him to the pavement. Pain shot through his body. He tried to roll over, but his shoulder had been dislocated, the bone pulled from its socket. Grunting through the pain, he pushed himself off the ground using his one good arm and stood, face to face with a second mechanical warrior.

  Whereas the tank was fully encased in metal plating, Tim could see the man opposite him was flesh and blood. This one was smaller and instead of armor, his body was supported by an exoskeletal frame. His head was covered by what looked like a modified motorcycle helmet, complete with black visor.

  “What the hell are you, off-brand Megaman?”

  “Hello, hicktown. Not many people walk away from a beating like the one we gave you. Glad to see you’re willing to set things right.”

  Without warning, the man cha
rged at Tim, moving faster than humanly possible. Pneumatic pumping sounds accompanied each step. Tim raised his arm to defend himself, but the flurry of punches moved too quickly for him to evade. The giant tank suit was slow and deliberate in its movements. The exoskeleton was lightning fast, but gaps in the frame left its wearer vulnerable to a counterattack

  His right arm useless, Tim pivoted, aiming a kick at an exposed area in the fighter’s side. But the man was prepared for it. His left arm trapped Tim’s leg between it and his body. Tim tried to pull free, but he was balancing on only one foot and the man’s arm was unyielding. The suit took advantage of Tim’s vulnerable state. With his right fist, the man aimed two mechanically enhanced punches at Tim’s thigh. He screamed as his femur cracked in two.

  Tim fell to the ground, his vision dark around the edges. He sensed Elijah, still off to the side trading blows with the tank. He didn’t know where Chem was, but he hoped that he’d gotten Lainey to safety.

  Tim looked up and saw his reflection staring down at him from a black visor. He heard a slight pneumatic hiss as the exoskeletal suit lifted a heavy boot into the air.

  “Hoorah, soldier.”

  Tim closed his eyes, wondering if he would feel the impact.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  We’re done for.

  Elijah dodged another vicious swing, just barely ducking out of its way. He was worn out and his lungs burned, not from his transformation but exhaustion. The tank’s attacks were methodical and relentless, and the historian was on his last leg.

  He heard a scream and risked a glance over at Tim. A second, smaller unit stood over top of him, knee raised in the air.

  He’s gonna curb stomp him.

  Elijah ran toward his friend, but the tank cut in front, blocking his path. Elijah tried a juke, stepping left before rolling right. But his move was obvious and the large mech suit wrapped its arms around the adjunct, pinning them to his side. It lifted him off the ground and squeezed. All the air left Elijah’s body.

  Elijah struggled against its grip, but the suit’s arms were unyielding, a vise crushing the life from him.

  Suddenly, a hissing sound filled the air. Something landed on the tank’s head, hard. With Elijah in its grasp, the suit was already off balance. It stumbled backwards. Elijah glimpsed a streak of yellow launch itself from the tank’s falling form toward Tim and the other suit.

  The ground shook as the armor landed. Its arms loosened upon impact. Elijah took advantage of its momentary lapse and with a surge of effort broke free from its grip.

  He sat up, straddling the suit, and began whaling on its armored head. Even with its protection, Elijah knew that whoever was inside this shell must be feeling something. Elijah’s fists were meteors, smashing into its face again and again.

  Elijah looked up and saw Rita, her bright yellow raincoat whirling behind her as she attacked the smaller suit. The thing was fast, but clearly thrown by the presence of this demon-like woman.

  Distracted, Elijah overlooked the large metal fist coming up from underneath him. The metal ton slammed into the side of Elijah’s head, sending him reeling.

  Stars swam before his eyes; his vision clouded.

  *****

  The next thing he knew, Chem was kneeling, gently shaking him. With a groan and the chemist’s assistance, Elijah found his feet.

  “Lainey?”

  “Don’t worry, she’s safe. But we gotta get you out of here. Otherwise the revolution will be televised.”

  A flash drew Elijah’s attention and he saw that a crowd had gathered, every member recording the action.

  But the metal suits were nowhere to be seen.

  The two men stepped over a pool of molten steel and headed toward their wounded friend. Steam rolled off Elijah’s arms, as he and Chem lifted Tim from the ground. He hopped on one leg with an arm around Chem’s shoulder. The trio ducked into a nearby alley, away from the crowd, and limped toward their home on Tenth Ave.

  “I can’t believe I let that bitch save me a second time. Where did she run off to?” The three struggled up their rickety porch steps. Tim’s pale face pivoted, looking around for Rita.

  Panting, Chem helped Tim transition to the porch’s railing as he dug into his coat pockets.

  “She’s gone. I made sure Lainey was safe before coming back, but as I did I saw that large suit-thing take off with Rita in its arms.”

  Elijah felt sick to his stomach. “And you just let them go?”

  Chem shook his head, pulling out a set of keys. His hands shook as he searched for the right one. “What the hell was I supposed to do? You two looked like you’d been spit out by a tornado. Me against that thing? It would be a bloodbath.”

  “Things.”

  Chem and Elijah looked at Tim. His right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. “There were two of them. And you made the right call. Rita’s one tough SOB. She can handle herself.”

  “What next?” Elijah asked as Chem pushed the door open. The two supported Tim as they moved awkwardly through the entryway. “And how the hell did they find us?”

  Chem reached over and flipped on the light switch. Elijah almost dropped Tim at the sight of two figures standing in the middle of the room—a remarkably handsome man and a woman, with long dark hair.

  She gasped at the sight of the blood-covered crew.

  “What the hell?” the historian blurted. “Willa?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “Just leave me on the floor or something. I’ll be alright,” the man in the flannel said, as the others carried him across the threshold.

  A single window AC unit struggled to keep up with the humidity. A musty smell wafted from the basement into the first floor. Rhett looked for exits, as was his custom.

  The room looked more like a low-grade college dorm than a place where guys in their thirties lived. He stepped aside as the two men eased the third onto a couch; a grunt exited the man’s throat. Rhett crossed the room, planting himself in a corner; from there he could take in the entire scene and make sure his back wasn’t to anyone.

  “Nice place,” Rhett said, breaking the silence.

  “Who the hell is he? And where the hell have you been?” The bearded man’s eyes were frantic as he shouted at Willa.

  She approached and pulled him into a hug, holding on a little too long. Rhett could see him stiffen at her touch, then relax after a moment. There was evidently something between them. She stepped back, and smiled. “It’s good to see you, Elijah. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

  An orange cat wove its way through the woman’s legs. She crouched, taking it in her arms. It purred as she ran her slender fingers over its head and down its back. The cat arched in tandem with the strokes—tail waving like a flag. “Hey, Cat. Did you miss Mommy? It’s okay, I’m here now.” Baby talk was strange coming from the woman Rhett had just stopped from murdering his boss.

  The other man, the tall skinny one, kept his eyes locked on Rhett. He wasn’t trusted here, but that was nothing new. He wasn’t trusted anywhere, especially since he had been working for Dobbs. He’d have to win them over. “I’m Rhett,” he said, nodding at him.

  The guy looked him over like an appraiser on “Antiques Roadshow.” Rhett usually made a great first impression, but the timing was horrible. “Look, my buddy’s bleeding out on my sofa so, as you can imagine, now is not really the time for us to play host. Sorry for your inconvenience.”

  Rhett liked this guy already. “No time even for the secret handshake?”

  Half a smile formed on the man’s face. “Nope. We’ll give you the code words later.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not bleeding out, I just might not be able to ever walk again.” Tim tried to prop himself up but collapsed in a fit of pain.

  Chem walked over and placed a hand on Tim’s forehead. “Shit. Elijah, I need you over here. He’s burning up. Can you grab my bag from the basement? We probably shouldn’t move him again.”

  Rhett reached ac
ross his body and squeezed his left shoulder with his right hand. Tightness across his back was commonplace—it had started with the tension of his new job in the city—but now was more of a nervous tic. He needed to compose himself. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”

  “Be my guest.” Chem nodded down the hall. “But make sure you put the seat down. Willa’s home.”

  Rhett let himself into the bathroom after checking the surrounding rooms. He needed a minute alone. He had to think. Not knowing his next move always made him nervous, and the inclusion of new characters into this grand narrative was something unexpected. He was out of control, and control was his art.

  “What are you going to tell them?”

  Rhett glanced over his shoulder. He saw his brother, Paul, leaning against the sink. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Yeah. I’m stealthy like that,” Paul said with a smile. “You can trust them, you know. I realize that’s not really your thing, trusting people. But these folks are good people, they’re here for the same reason we are. I know they are. They’ve been drawn. They just don’t know it.”

  Rhett gritted his teeth, trying to piss while his brother engaged him in conversation.

  “I thought we were here to help stop these monsters. That’s what you told me.”

  “I never said that. I knew we came to Pittsburgh because of them, but you were the one who jumped to the conclusion that they were the problem.”

  Rhett nodded. “And now it turns out that they’re not monsters at all, just some academics with strange abilities.”

  “So?”

  “So, what?” Rhett asked.

  Rhett stared at the plastic flower wreath hanging over the toilet. It was most certainly a vestige left behind by the previous owners. These guys didn’t look like the fake plastic flower types. He tried to imagine the absence of his brother, so that he might actually empty his bladder.

  “Believing isn’t so hard, brother” Paul said. “You going to tell them about the thing?”