Preternaturals: A Superhero Thriller

by Allen Kensington

  Exiting the monolithic shadows of the city’s downtown skyscrapers, bright rays of the midmorning sun shot down upon them. The windshield became a palette for light and glare, and their eyes squinted in unison. Red raised his hand to block the oncoming brilliance.

  “There,” Sibyl pointed, a slender finger indicating the city’s tallest building. “It is happening up there.”

  Following her gesture, he yanked the steering wheel. The pickup careened down an exit ramp and into the city proper. Red pushed the accelerator, passing slower cars and jumping through a hilltop intersection. No longer travelling on the highway, his speed seemed doubly unsafe, but the driver ignored the danger. If he could get there in time, they might be able to help the Lieutenant, and bring the Aegis to justice. Whatever the situation, Mead didn’t have to face it alone.

  The rush ended in an instant as Red’s tires screeched to a halt outside of the indicated building. He cared little for finding a real parking space, scattering pedestrians as he pulled onto the sidewalk. The vehicle came to a rest at an awkward angle, stopping short of the police barricade. The duo paid it no mind, leaping from their seats and heading for the building.

  Shards of broken glass lay strewn across the entry plaza, but otherwise all seemed controlled. Police waited at the edge of a ring of cars, and journalists hovered nearby, waiting for the story. Sibyl pointed to the rooftop, running for the doors.

  Red followed, using his abilities to bluff his way past the attending cops. If she was correct, there would be little that the boys in blue could do anyway, he reasoned. It was up to the two of them, and Lieutenant Mead, to ensure the safety of the city.

  He hoped he was ready.

  __________

  David floated his way through the abandoned corridors of the darkened office floor. He had followed the villain through the hole in the ceiling, somehow losing him in the labyrinth of the office below. The mercenary had moved quickly, and was now hidden amongst the duplicated rows of cubicle walls. He searched, still carrying the makeshift club. A warren-like workplace spread around him, providing a myriad of options for hiding and ambush.

  The darkness was oppressive beyond the singular well of sunshine, and even though emergency lights projected cones of weak illumination, they did little to add cognition to the jumble of debris. He strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the eerie green that the Aegis seemed to project, hovering for added safety. Wherever the criminal was, he must have dowsed his personal luminescence.

  David wasn’t going to let the Aegis escape. Not this time. He set off down the short hallway, searching for the villain. His movement was limited within the confining walls, but he remained clear of it all, his feet passing inches above the floor. The hallway ended in another large room filled with the cheap, cubicle partitions. Beyond each chest-high barrier, a desk and chair huddled in the darkness. It was perfect cover for the villain. David rose higher, casting his vision across the mass.

  Something moved in the corner of the room. He glanced toward it, stopping short of direct eye contact and trying to catch outlines of the shape in his peripheral vision, where his sensitivity to light was greatest. Nothing stirred as he watched, and he floated forward another yard.

  Behind him, back down the corridor, a door opened. The sound wasn’t discreet, resonating clearly through the emptied halls. Either the villain was laying a trap, trying to lure David toward him, or was running outright. Lifting his club in both hands, the Lieutenant decided that either was fine.

  He rushed toward the source, flying over the shrapnel of the disrupted offices. The club felt heavy in his hands, and he gripped it tighter, poised and ready. Loose papers shifted and fluttered in his wake.

  In the corridor ahead, he saw a shape in a doorway. It stepped toward him, rather than away. So, it’s a trap after all, David thought. Good.

  He flexed his biceps, preparing to launch the weapon into his enemy. It would serve as his bumper, a buffer between himself and the Aegis’ shield. He would hit the man with blazing speed, attempting to push him through the office waste and beyond. If he gained enough momentum, he might be able to force the villain through the walls like a bullet, heading out into the open air. Then, they would see how powerful that force field really was.

  He hesitated, prepping the jetpack for the incredible acceleration. Feeling the power build, he released it in a single burst. The hallway’s length disappeared between them.

  As David tensed for impact, a glowing oval uncovered itself to his left, far closer than the waiting doorway. Caught off guard, he glanced off the slippery barrier, and spun toward the outer wall. Trying to regain control, he flew in an erratic swirl as his speed dominated his path. He fought it, reversing his thrust and landing hard, clearing a path across the carpeted floor. He came to a rest at the feet of the newcomer, the person he had thought to be the Aegis.

  The door’s light outlined her figure, and violet eyes stared down upon him.

  He shook his head, stunned.

  “Sybil?”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The elevators to the upper levels had been shut down after the first load of guards went up, leaving the stairwells the sole access. Despite his recent conditioning, Red was having a difficult go at it. The vertical distance was getting the better of him, and as he tried to inhale slow and deep lungfuls of air, the rapid beating of his heart made controlled breathing difficult. After the first twenty flights, he gasped to fulfill his body’s desperate need for oxygen.

  Sibyl was somewhere ahead of him, dashing up each floor with unbound energy. Red had been surprised by the agility of the frail-looking woman. She seemed to spring up the stairs with ease, showing no signs of slowing. As scrawny as she was, she had left him behind with quick and determined movements.

  He slowed his ascent, trying to determine how many more floors were left. Looking through the squared spiral of stairwells, he saw nothing but an endless rise. With some struggle, he lifted his foot to the next step, and when it was conquered, he focused upon the next. Fatigue was getting to him, but he knew the importance of haste. He would take them one at a time, until no more were left. What he lacked in fitness, he would make up in shear tenacity.

  Another flight conquered, Red heard a door open somewhere above, echoing down the concrete walls of the tower. He waited a moment, trying to determine if a person had entered or exited the stairwell. All was silent, but as he stood, he felt a twinge in the back of his mind. He closed his eyes, feeling it again. It was Sybil.

  “Mr. Cunningham,” she said. He could hear her, or sense her rather, in his thoughts. She seemed to call in desperation. “Mr. Cunningham. I need you to use your power.”

  “There’s no one around,” he said aloud. His words echoed down the chamber.

  “Do not worry,” she replied. “I will show you.”

  A dark image superimposed itself over his vision. Hard to see against the stairway lights, he closed his eyes as it pressed into his imagination. At first, it appeared nothing more than blackness, with a few green holes growing larger as he watched. With more concentration however, the details began to define themselves.

  A man lay crumpled in the foreground, and through some miracle of Sybil’s ability, Red recognized him as David Mead. The Lieutenant rested in the middle of a hall, bordered by desks and office chairs, looking up toward the image’s voids. In response, they too became more distinct, revealing themselves as green lights set within the darker silhouette of the Aegis.

  Red suddenly understood Sybil’s request. He used his preternatural ability.

  The annals of the villain’s memory burst open, and the Aegis’ personal history, closed to even himself for so long, became a spectacle for all to see. Events of the past played out within the minds of each, and Red found himself watching as the original, two preternaturals were rising from that vat of bubbling toxin. Their nude figures writhed as the platforms moved, depositing them alongside the container. The liquid’s greenish glow lent the sce
ne sinister tones.

  Dr. Malorius, bound to a stretcher by titanium cables, coughed and vomited a few mouthfuls of the luminescent ooze. He struggled against the restraints, failing even to budge the bindings. “No,” he sobbed between expulsions. “It’s gone. It’s all gone.”

  The scientists stepped closer, unlatching the bindings as Captain Valour wiped a hand over his face. His features were young and strong, and none of the lines of age had yet been carved across his visage. Despite this difference of years however, Red recognized him.

  It was Senator Jack Williams.

  “I don’t understand,” Red heard David saying into nothingness. “What’s happening? What was the liquid in that pool?”

  The Aegis was quiet for a moment, he himself watching his past unfold.

  “A power neutralizer,” Sybil said over the memory. “It took their powers from them, making them normal.” She looked to David, their eyes meeting. “Captain Valour, Jack, wanted it to end with them.”

  “It’s more complicated than that.” The Aegis spoke up, piecing together the narrative. “The liquid didn’t neutralize their abilities, it leeched them. Valour and Malorius became normal, but that energy didn’t disappear. The liquid contained everything that they once were. It held all of their preternatural power.”

  Sibyl’s brow wrinkled. “What happened to it?”

  Another memory began.

  John Blackman still wore the hazmat suit as soldiers wheeled a row of compression tanks along the boarding ramp of the Byrne-Rucka Galaxy 5 aircraft; he hadn’t had time to change. Seeing the last tank set into place, he checked it off of his clipboard, boarding the cargo plane himself and breathing a sigh of relief. The gangway closed behind him, and he removed the bulky suit. Finding a seat at last, he slumped into it and prepared for takeoff.

  Storm clouds rolled in as the plane began to taxi down the runway. John looked back again, keeping a close eye on the filled tanks. An array of belts and harnesses held them safe and in place, and he returned his attentions to his own safety, locking the mechanism that held him in his seat. The engines became louder as their RPM increased. A gentle pressure pressed him, and he felt the aircraft move.

  The wind picking up as the storm front drew nearer, a wave of dust and litter rushed past his window. The propellers spun faster against the coming weather, their noise competing with the roar of the tempest. The hulking machine lurched, acceleration increasing with each moment. The landscape outside blurred with motion, and the end of the runway approached, a sheet of rain beyond it. As if by magic, the craft gathered enough speed to break the bonds of gravity. It rose into the mottled grey sky, and pushed beyond the clouds.

  “Private Blackman?” A man in a black suit approached him from the nose of the plane.

  John recognized Special Agent Timm, disbelieving the swirl of events into which the man had drafted him. The agent appeared to be a civilian, from his wing-tip shoes to the jet black fedora perched upon his head. A small, white feather poked from the hat’s band.

  “Yes, sir,” John said, rising from his momentary peace. The anxiety that had left him moments ago returned with a vengeance. A cold sweat spread across his outstretched palms.

  The government man strode over and sat next to John, seeming to forget any introductory handshakes. He tipped his hat back, and leaned closer to speak over the plane’s engines. “Have a seat, son. I’m here to debrief you.”

  John let out a short breath, and fell back into place. He knew a debriefing would happen sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected it aboard the plane. Even so, some part of him looked forward to getting it over. He wanted to put the night’s events behind him, for better or worse. Perhaps that would help to calm his nerves.

  “You’ve done a great service to your country, John,” the man started his speech. “Your patriotism will be remembered.”

  John tried to smile, wiping his brow. The plane rattled and shook, ascending into the sky. “It wasn’t easy, sir,” he said, looking back at the tanks. “I had to betray the trust of some good people.”

  Special Agent Timm patted him on the shoulder. “We know, son, but the liquid had to be secured.” The man’s grip tightened. “We appreciate your sacrifice.”

  John turned in time to see the flash of a hypodermic needle. It wasn’t much, just a long glint in his peripheral vision, and almost by instinct, his right arm shot upward. He grabbed the man’s wrist and squeezed, halting the syringe mere inches from his exposed neck. Twisting himself into a better defensive position, he pushed against the unexpected attack.

  Timm tried to press down harder, but made no progress. Panicking, he reached into his suit jacket with his free hand, drawing a small handgun from inside.

  John tried to stop him, but the movements were too quick. The best he could do in such close quarters was to disrupt the weapon’s aim.

  Regardless, Timm squeezed the trigger, and the weapon fired. The noise deafened them both, and the air was suddenly sucked from the aircraft’s cabin.

  Fighting for his life, John felt the oxygen flee from his lungs. Before he knew it, another bullet had left the gun’s barrel with a loud pop. It struck him in the arm, spinning his upper body until he faced the plane’s cargo area. He hadn’t even yet felt the pain, when his eyes caught the further result of the bullet’s trajectory.

  One of the compression tanks was struck, showering them both in the radiant goop. He remembered a fraction of a second more, before the tank’s internal pressure burst. Its shrapnel struck another tank, then another, causing a massive chain reaction that ripped the aircraft to shreds.

  The memory ended with pain and unconsciousness, but the plane’s destruction was undoubted.

  The Aegis looked to his armored hand, now knowing the origins of his radioactivity. Despite its containment, the glow from within the armor never ceased. That night, long ago, had changed everything, even his very identity.

  David turned toward the armored man. “That was you?”

  Slow to respond, the mercenary nodded. His voice sounded more inhuman than ever. “Yes, I suppose it was.”

  Sybil stepped toward him, reaching out with dainty fingers. They butted against the invisible barrier between them. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  The Aegis shook his head. “No. These memories are new to me. My past has been hidden for many years.”

  David stood, joining Sybil, but stayed just beyond the villain’s reach. “And Jack Williams? He was Captain Valour?”

  Although the question was intended for the Aegis, Sybil answered. “Yes,” she said, surprising them both. “That is why Jack has been so involved. He feels responsible for us.”

  The images faded in Red’s mind, the voices growing distant. Sybil cut the link between them, and he lost his connection to the room. Left alone again in the empty stairwell, he looked up and judged the distance required to join his friends. Many flights remained, and lifting a foot, he continued his climb to the top.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Stephen Detch had been waiting, expecting the Aegis to resurface. He had known the other man would not be silent long, and he was right; various news bulletins had just broken the story of the hostage situation atop Cronus Tower. He reached out with his new powers, allowing him a more extensive awareness of the city’s events. Sensing the people gathered around the building, he hungered for the preternatural power waiting there.

  Detch prepared himself for the encounter. Their last meeting had left him unsatisfied, but as was often required in business, he learned from his mistakes. Now, there was no way the other man would escape. Stephen would crush him, ripping that armor from its host and draining the precious energy within. Once this was complete, nothing would stand in his way.

  He stood, once more delighted by the unhindered use of his legs. Kroncik’s technology had given him back his mobility, but that wasn’t all. He had changed more than he ever thought possible, and countless preternatural abilities rocketed through his bloodstream
. His body had been strengthened, his mind expanded, and all of it served to whet his appetite.

  It was euphoric, but he wanted more.

  A mere handful of others remained, and he would not rest until they too had fallen. Collecting their remaining abilities, he would become unstoppable, a god among insects. His dominion, and his revenge, would soon be at hand.

  The hanging costume again came to life, its eyes burning a dim red. “You have done well, my son,” the voice reassured. “Soon, our goals will be met.”

  “And our vengeance will be complete,” Stephen finished. He looked down to his functional legs again. “Everything that Valour has done will be undone.”

  “And then?” The suit questioned him.

  Stephen’s black eyes gleamed. “Then,” he started, shooting a bolt of lightning from his outstretched hand and turning a nearby pillar to dust. “We will break him.”

  The phantom eyes dimmed, and the costume fell limp. Stephen turned his attentions to the presence atop the city’s tallest building. It would take little time to reach the Aegis, but there was no hurry. Detch wanted to savor his victory. Using his new abilities, he gathered a mass of energy behind him, aiming himself toward Cronus Tower.

  It was time to introduce the world to its new master.

  __________

  Billy had waited as the people fled and the sounds of battle disappeared. Now, he heard nothing but the gentle buzz of the city below. Traffic roared, cars honked, and circulation fans hissed. The world was going about its daily routines, unaware of the drama unfolding above them. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he waited, wishing he was among them.

  Under other circumstances, it would have been pleasant sitting there. The sun was shining, the sky had cleared, and only small puffs of cloud punctuating the azure endlessness. He could have rested here for a long time, sleeping in the warm daylight. No one would find him, not unless the news helicopters came poking around. He felt separate from it all, free and at peace.