Preternaturals: A Superhero Thriller

by Allen Kensington

  “Come home, David. Show’s over.”

  “Acknowledged, General,” he replied. “Returning home.” He left the channel open, listening to the turmoil of wind against the microphone. “How’d we do?”

  There was a pause, and David imagined the General looking back to the senator and his group. The man would have his hands clasped behind his back, waiting for the final approval that he knew was coming. The senator, and his albino associate, had no choice but to be impressed.

  The radio crackled again. “Mission accomplished.”

  David stood outside the General’s office an hour later, shaking his limbs to remove the sluggishness. After his time in the air, it felt somewhat limiting to have to walk from here to there. The suit always allowed him freedoms difficult to find as a normal man. Feeling better, he put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, watching the hallway. It was empty, save for the vintage photographs of aircraft developed at the facility.

  Inside, he could hear the General yelling into his telephone, but the door muffled the words into obscurity. When it opened, the man behind smiled as if he had been speaking to his mother. David was ushered into the room with a wave of a thick, grizzled hand, and the door was closed. He hesitated before sitting, allowing the General to return to his own seat behind the desk. He waited as the General sat.

  “Have a seat, son.”

  General Frost opened a cigar box made of Spanish cedar, and removed two stogies. He cut the ends of both, taking one for himself and offering David the other. They lit up, and a haze of sweet tobacco soon filled the room’s upper atmosphere.

  Taking a long drag, the General eased himself back in his leather chair. “David, I wanted to start off by saying that this is an informal meeting, as you can see.” He waved his cigar around as he spoke, drawing accidental smoke rings in the air. “You have an opportunity to be reassigned, but I wanted your input.”

  David puffed a little, exhaled, and nodded.

  The General continued. “Senator Williams is putting together a team of preternaturals, and he would like you to be a part of it.” The man raised a hand, stopping David before any words could leave his mouth. “The team could use some good old-fashioned military structure, and that’s what you’d bring. You, and the jetpack.”

  David inhaled, letting the information soak in. “Sir, I . . . ”

  The General cut him off. “I’m not going to pull any of that honor and duty crap. We both know better. I will say however, that I want you on this team. It’s no secret that Williams and I disagree on a great number of topics. To be honest, I don’t like him, but I need someone on the inside of this thing. That someone is you.” The man leaned back, waiting for a response from across his desk.

  David nodded. The idea came as a shock, and the thought of working with so many empowered beings was uncomfortable at best, especially given his recent encounter with the Aegis. He pulled the cigar from between his teeth, ready to speak, but not yet ready to answer. His mouth waited for the words to form. “What’s the story on this, General?”

  Frost passed a packet toward him. The cover page was stamped with various insignia, some of which even David didn’t recognize. The first two pages held a summary of the project, its goals, and a list of current personnel. The albino girl’s name, Sybil, was printed at the top of that list.

  The General continued in a quieter tone. “I’m not going to order you to take this assignment. You have the option of saying ‘no.’” He smiled, biting the end of the rolled tobacco. “I want you to take twenty-four hours and think it over. Go home, read this, and tomorrow afternoon, you come in here and tell me your answer. Either way.” He waved a meaty hand to the door, and nodded his dismissal.

  David rose, stamped out the end of his cigar in the full ashtray, and saluted. He walked to the door and pulled it half open.

  “Tomorrow,” the General reminded, returning to his paperwork.

  “Yes, sir,” David said, exiting and closing the door. The hallway remained quiet, as if unaware of the decision thrust upon him. A smile broke out across David’s face, but it wasn’t one of happiness. Running a hand through his sandy hair, he laughed and shook his head.

  Why had they chosen him? The SkyRise project had seemed a dream assignment, flying around in a freaking jetpack and getting paid to do it. He loved every minute of it, but now it appeared that this detail had put him on the outskirts of the real military, relegated to babysitting a bunch of freaks.

  Who knew what kind of aberrations would be out there? The question sounded harsh, but to be realistic, he understood that these people were civilians with far too much power, weapons without a safety. The potential members of his team made him uneasy, and his questions multiplied. How would he train a force in using abilities which he could not even comprehend? He was just a man, after all. What instruction could he provide?

  David left the facility, the doubts plaguing him. His answer seemed clear, but some small part of the opportunity was intriguing. The General had his reasons for asking. What would happen if David were to succeed?

  He dropped into the bucket seat of his sports car, sliding the door closed and turning the key. CCR blared from the stereo, and he shifted into drive. Pressing the accelerator, his car erupted from the parking lot.

  He had twenty-four hours. He’d figure it out. No sense in ruining the day.

  Chapter Six

  The Aegis made his way through the back alleys of the city, walking in and out of darkness. Sounds echoed around him, but his movements did not add to the cacophony. He knew how to travel in silence, and with an overcoat and hat in place, he seemed nothing more than an unmemorable shape at the edge of the crowd.

  Inside the suit, his stomach began to growl, reminding him that it had been twelve hours since his last meal. The process of eating was too dangerous to indulge very often, requiring him to lower his shield and ingest something foreign. He feared the vulnerability, and beyond brief feedings, the force bubble stretched around him always, generated from beneath his armor plating. Since the day he had created the suit, his life had happened within it, buffering himself from the world.

  The main purpose of the armor was not to protect himself however, the barriers served a dual purpose. Despite outward appearances, his preternatural power did not generate the shield that surrounded him, at least not directly. His body issued various bands of radiation, and without the armored casing, he poisoned everything around him with nuclear decay. His earliest recollections were of desolation and wilderness, a land laid waste by his very presence. It was a terrible thing to see, and as he struggled with amnesia and despair, the observations had changed him.

  Like being born, warm darkness had given way to cold and light. His first memory began as he awoke within a great casket, intended to contain and siphon his energy. He later realized it to be a prison, but in the moment, it was home. Until the cover slid away and revealed him to a group of people, terrorists possibly, waiting on the other side, he had known nothing else.

  At the opening, hazmat suited men stood over him, wide-eyed. They shouted in a language he did not know, most backing away in fear. One reached for a weapon, but their reactions mattered little.

  As he was exposed, their surprise lasted but a few seconds. A lethal glow filled the room, and flesh boiled from their bones. The men melted before his very eyes.

  He rose and staggered from the building as best he could, irradiating everyone and everything in his path. Outside, he found that it was not a prison at all, rather a power plant, generating electricity for millions of the citizens of Eastern Europe. Alarms sounded from its core, reaching across the surrounding city and alerting all nearby residents. As he stepped further, he could make out scores of vehicles in panicked retreat.

  The streetlights seemed to darken as he crawled further from the plant’s remains. He met no one besides those first few, the population evacuating upon his release. Homes were abandoned, leaving radios playing and dinner coo
king on the stoves. Everything was forsaken, freezing in time a terrible facsimile of a living community. The small town seemed as any other, if not for the utter lack of habitation.

  He made his way further without direction, the signs and billboards helping him little. Their strange alphabet was illegible to his eyes, and so he continued walking. Miles of unknown country surrounded him, but confused and disoriented as he was, he could think of nothing else.

  Reaching the edge of the village, he entered the wilderness nude, glowing, and alone.

  Another pang of emptiness issued from the Aegis’ midsection, tearing him from the memory. He strolled past the flickering neon of a twenty-four hour burger joint, and saliva filled his mouth. He looked across the street and through its windows, watching as the people inside bit into the greasy sandwiches. The scent of grilled meat seemed to linger in his nostrils, but he knew it was nothing more than his imagination. Not even that lingering aroma could penetrate his force shields. Sparing one last glance, he continued on. His stomach grumbled again.

  He headed for the auxiliary apartment nearby. He maintained a few in the city, and in other areas in which he knew that they would be of use. Their kitchen’s meager facilities were enough to boil and purify the water he needed for his nutrient broth.

  As with all of his apartments, the supplies were there. He paid an assortment of individuals to maintain and stock the buildings. It required a good deal of expense, but there were few other options. Within those lead-lined walls, he would lower his shielding long enough to feed.

  Coming to the building’s exterior, he changed the shape of his protective bubble, projecting it downward and lifting his body to the second-story window. Uncovering a camouflaged keypad, he entered the access code. An electronic locking system disengaged, opening the wall. He stepped inside.

  Furnishings were sparse in the apartment. Spare pieces of armor hung on the walls, lead buckets rested on the floor, and a few cabinets held minimal foodstuffs. The Aegis needed little beyond that which kept him alive. Comfort was something he had long forgotten, traded for the extended requirements of a radioactive physique.

  He opened a cupboard and retrieved a jug of filtered water, the base for his broth. He had to be careful with his meals. Anything he took into his body posed a potential risk, and anything he expelled retained some of his ambient radiation. His body worked as anyone’s; he breathed, sweat, and got hungry, but each function was complicated by his hazardous flesh. Anything that came into direct contact with him was altered by his continual radioactive decay. Even his urine was toxic.

  He opened another cabinet, but before he had time to retrieve the remaining ingredients, his helmet indicated an incoming call. Expecting an update from one of his hired associates, he clicked it to answer.

  “Yes?”

  “Recruit the team,” Stephen Detch commanded. The Aegis could hear the man’s self-important smile. “It’s time for Phase Two.”

  He acknowledged the order and disconnected. His meal would have to wait.

  Not long after, deep beneath the streets of the city, subway cars rushed in the darkness, stirring the musty air. Crumpled newspapers floated in the shifting currents, settling as the ground lost its dull rumble. The noise deadened, and the train was gone.

  The Aegis stood at a large junction in the twisting underground corridors, the echoes of falling water drawing him forward. He adjusted the lens on his helmet, and continued into the tunnel’s gloom. His quarry, one of the most well-known preternaturals in the world, waited in the sewers.

  The creature would have been difficult to track, adapted as he was to this cement swamp. Without research, the Aegis could have searched for days, knowing not where his prey resided. Fortunately, he had taken precautions, modifying his suit for the underground environment and familiarizing himself with the monster’s habits. The onboard instrumentation highlighted a trail through the murk. He followed.

  As the light weakened, he dimmed his own illumination for the hunt. He knew that the man-lizard, Iguanus, could see even in the near-total darkness. The Aegis was not concerned with his safety, proceeding with care to avoid endangering the mission. He wanted to surprise the creature.

  It worked. After a few twists and turns within the underground labyrinth, the Aegis turned a corner and found his mark. He paused, watching the monster feed.

  Further down the tunnel, Iguanus pulled his head from a bleeding carcass, steaming entrails slipping down his throat like errant strands of spaghetti. Somewhere inside his semiconscious victim, under the overcoat and stink and filth, a muscled heart still beat. Hot crimson oozed from the man.

  Iguanus plunged his claw inward, invading the ribcage and supplanting the liquid’s source. The compact mound of muscle, still pulsing, came away without much struggle. Life leaked from the body, and a final bit of mist rose from its mouth. The metallic lizard placed the heart between his teeth and bit down. The last of the tangy blood gushed from its open ports. He swallowed.

  The Aegis approached as the creature plunged his short snout back into the vagrant’s midsection, ripping more flesh from its home. “Iguanus,” he called, drawing nearer. His voice echoed within the tunnel’s confines. “I have come in need of your talents.”

  The monster was not pleased. Black eyes focused in the dark, and he slipped into the murky water. Tail sliding back and forth, he glided toward the intruder. Eyes, nostrils, and dorsal scales appeared above the waterline, but nothing else. In this light, he was almost invisible.

  The distance between them shortened, becoming less than a yard. The creature moved forward, and his snout bumped against the Aegis’ unseen barrier. He moved again, but met the same result. A wall stood between them, transparent but effective.

  “Who are you?” he hissed.

  The mercenary resumed his normal brilliance. The oval within his helmet glowed as bright as ever, filling the tunnel with his sickly glare. “I am called the Aegis,” he replied, “and I have come with an offer.”

  Iguanus listened as the man explained further, his blank eyes remaining emotionless. He advanced twice more, silver scales shifting in the water. Pushing his snout forward, he moved with a sinister subtlety, attempting to find a weak point in the protective shield. Twice more he was rebuffed.

  Detailing the offer, the Aegis watched the beast, noticing the veiled attacks. The lizard’s antics were not troubling, nor even particularly surprising, but his recruitment was crucial. “My employer offers you the funds needed to continue your work, and enough warm bodies to satisfy your appetites.”

  The snout rose above the waterline. “And what does he get in return?”

  Within his helmet, the Aegis grinned. “Your strength, and your obedience.”

  Chapter Seven

  The headquarters of Jack Williams’ project stood in the city’s easternmost suburb, a bland building hiding among industrial and office complexes. The long awaited day had come, and Sybil stood in a cold, sterile room, counting the minutes before the procedure was to begin. She studied the elaborate, mechanical device in which she would soon find herself enclosed. Frightened by its confines, she turned away, facing the openness of the laboratory.

  A small bank of computer monitors bisected the room, dividing her bed from the rest of the goings on. She walked over to it, looking across the screens. Most were blank, and she knew they would not show anything until she was locked inside the pod. The thought disquieted her further, recognizing the displays would be her sole connection to the outside world.

  This was something she had to do. There was no turning back now.

  The door opened, and an air of excited anticipation filled the place as technicians began working around her, ensuring that each of the medical instruments performed as best they could. Everything was experimental, pushing the bounds of science in ways few thought possible. She inhaled deeply and walked to the bed, lifting her behind to sit on the cold, stiff cushioning. She watched them and waited, trying to control her breathi
ng.

  The lab’s door opened again, and Jack entered the room. Their eyes met, and he sought her out amongst the crowd. Drawing nearer, he looked at her and smiled, taking her hand in his. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered.

  She nodded, her anxiety burying her mind in a blizzard of thought. Jack had invested a considerable amount of government resources, not to mention his personal fortune, into the procedure’s success. She knew how important it was to him.

  Trying to center herself once more, she brought her legs up, and lay back on the bed. The technicians surrounded her, swabbing small circles of alcohol on her skin. After each icy chill, foam pads were stuck to her head and body, red and blue wires trailing away and into the machine.

  Jack remained by her side. He cupped her hand in his, offering some warmth as the temperature in the room seemed to drop. She looked at him as they lowered the helmet-like enclosure to cover her bare scalp. It too attached to some of the pads, joining her with her enclosure.

  When the preparations had ended, Jack let go, but not without another reassuring pat upon her forearm. She could hear him move away with hazy, echoed steps, the noise cut off when the machine’s two, large halves closed in around her. All light and sound disappeared, plunging her into total darkness. She sighed, if for no other reason than to hear something in the self-contained isolation.

  Water began to drip into her new environment. At first, it was a small stream, warm and soothing against her skin. The sensation was not unwelcome, and she tried to relax as more began to flow. It filled the bottom of the pod and lifted her from its sterile bed. Her body began to float, buoyed by its density. It continued filling.

  After a few minutes, the water stopped, and she was left in a sightless, soundless, almost weightless environment. She moved an arm, reaching more to remind herself that something was there. Fingertips brushed against the pod’s cool inner dome.