“You killed my friend, you bastard.”
Massacre screamed as her hand came down again. His scream stopped and his headless body dropped to the floor. The metal sheet twanged as it vibrated, embedded in the wall behind where his neck had been.
Tessa’s fury subsided and she fell to her knees, her anger and frustration spent, leaving only a well of endless sorrow.
“Tia… don’t go,” she whispered.
TWENTY-FIVE
DOMINO
Ahundred miles north of Guadalajara she lost contact with Milton. He’d informed her it would happen—the cell network in Mexico wasn’t the most reliable. This particular area was more desert than anything else and there were no cell towers as far as the eye could see. Despite Amelia’s near omniscience with foreseeing problems, she hadn’t thought to install a satellite phone in Kate’s arm, only a cell, and radio.
The claws, sword, and strength are pretty awesome. Not to mention that I can feel with it.
Which would be more useful if she had something or someone to feel. Right now, the only thing she felt was the hard steering wheel—and every single damn pothole on the god forsaken road they traveled. Even if it were daylight she would still hit half of them.
“Didn’t you say you had night vision on those things?” Rachel pointed at the goggles resting on Kate’s forehead.
“I do, but I can only look through them for so long before I get a raging headache,” she said to her new friend.
The rest of the girls were huddled together in the back of the truck. Mostly for warmth, but some for comfort. The truck’s heater didn’t work at all, and even though they were in Mexico, it was the middle of winter. Cold was cold.
Rachel was only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cut-offs. At least Kate had her costume on, torn as it was from the two days of torture. But once again Amelia’s genius protected her; the costume kept her warm in the cold and cool in the heat. Kate seriously had no idea how Amelia did half the things Amelia did.
Please come home soon.
She had no idea where Amelia was, but it wasn’t the first time her friend had disappeared. She tried not to think about the difference this time, though; she couldn’t feel Amelia.
A glance at the dash told her they would need to find a place to fill up the tank soon. Some of those jeeps she had blown up had exterior fuel tanks on them, which meant they were probably intended to run with the truck and keep it going all the way to the Gulf.
While not like the US with a massive highway infrastructure, Mexico wasn’t lacking in little towns and gas stations. The trouble was going to be finding one open in the middle of the night—and not attracting attention.
I’m gonna have to go on my own and get some.
“Rachel, I need you to drive for a little while. Keep it under twenty, stay on this road, and don’t stop no matter what.”
Rachel’s eyes went wide as she went from half asleep to wide awake.
“You sound like you’re leaving...”
Kate unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door and stood out on the runner. “I am. We need gas. It won’t be long before we have to stop and get some, but there may not be a good place to do that. I can see a light,” she pointed off in the dark, “about three miles that way. I can pop over there, get what we need, and come back. Twenty minutes, tops. Okay?”
Rachel shook her head. “No, not it’s not okay. What happens if they find us while you’re gone?” Tears welled in her eyes and Kate wished she didn’t have to leave them—but better now when she decided, rather than waiting until she was forced.
“You’re going to be fine. They probably don’t even know we’re gone yet. Just stay on this road and it will work out.” She pushed all her reassurance and domination into those words, harder than she normally did. She feared that sort of manipulation could be semi-permanent, but at this point she didn’t have a choice.
Kate’s powers took hold and Rachel relaxed, her eyes going placid as she nodded. “Stay on this road, go slow, don’t stop. Got it,” she said almost like a drone.
Part of Kate regretted having to use such measures, but she was in a hurry. She just needed the woman to listen.
Pushing it out of her mind, she leaped off the truck. When the sign in the distance became visible, she teleported. The world went white as she passed through quantum space before appearing atop the sign.
It was a gas station, for which she was thankful, but it was closed. She was about to jump down and go about Jerry rigging the pumps when she spotted movement. An armed guard wandered out of the shadows, slowly walking the perimeter. She looked opposite of him in the yard and spotted another.
Now why would a gas station have two armed guards walking the perimeter?
She took a moment to examine them; they weren’t pros, she decided. Jeans, t-shirts and guns stuffed in their pants told her they were random, not operators.
She leaped off the sign, tumbling over to aim her feet straight at the ground, then triggered her powers. A white flash later and she landed on the first man’s back, crumpling him silently to the ground. He didn’t have time to groan before he was knocked unconscious by the force of the blow. Taking the force of the landing, she rolled forward and teleported again, coming out of quantum space right in front of the other guard. She swung, bringing the force of her momentum and her enhanced strength into an uppercut that broke the man’s jaw. He flipped over backward, crashing to the ground in an unconscious heap.
She spun, taking in her surroundings to make sure she didn’t set off any alarms. After a moment of silence, she was satisfied there wasn’t anyone else.
Now to find out what’s so important.
The old gas station didn’t look like much from the outside; just a few dirty windows and an old Coke sign
She passed through the door with a thought, triggering her powers easily. Little jaunts hardly exhausted her, not like the big ones or teleporting across the world. That took its toll on her.
“What could possibly warrant armed guards?” she whispered aloud. The place looked exactly like she expected it to, right up to the broken vending machine in the corner. Dust settled everywhere and it looked like the place hadn’t been cleaned in a dog’s age.
“It was a trap...” her heading for the US would be her only play. They knew she couldn’t fly out or teleport; not without leaving the girls. It would be a simple matter to call ahead and have people waiting at every gas station and watching the roads...
“Oh no,” she said. She’d left the girls in the truck. Kate rushed toward the door, teleporting to the other side. She stopped for a heartbeat to orient herself, then teleported again. In a blink she was on the road. In all, her side trip had taken less than ten minutes. In that time the truck traveled over the uneven hilly ground which kept her from seeing them, but she didn’t need to. She ran, using her teleportation whenever she could see more than a hundred feet.
It only took a minute for her to catch up, appearing on a hill a half mile behind the truck. Her fear was confirmed; the truck was on its side, several SUVs circled it, and men with guns surrounded the vehicle.
Of all the rotten luck.
They must have run the truck off the road. She slipped her goggles on, activating both the night and telescopic vision. She got a clear picture of the situation. Twenty assailants, almost all of them with guns. The two who didn’t were likely supers of some kind. She let her senses extend out, trying to pick up emotions from them. Fear, anger, excitement—all common. Maybe they didn’t know she wasn’t there? Then she spied Major Nelson. It looked like they’d worked him over good. At least he wasn’t dead. But he sure paid for trying to protect the girls.
“Carlos, I could really use you right about now,” she whispered.
With a breath she triggered her powers, teleporting behind the closest man. She grabbed him around the jaw with her enhanced arm and pulled him backward to slam his head into the ground.
She took his gun, raised it above her head,
and hurled it at full strength against the next guy. It hit his head, knocking him sideways.
“She’s here!” someone yelled.
Kate ran forward, teleporting to close the distance and hit the next one across the jaw with her iron hard fist. He crumpled like an aluminum can.
Then things got real. Shaken from their surprise, they opened fire. Kate did her best to keep empty space behind her—she didn’t want any of the girls taking a stray round. Bullets tore the ground around her as they fired full auto. The flashing light and roaring sound practically blinded and deafened everyone... but her. Amelia’s goggles suppressed flashes and dampened loud sounds.
“Beast mode,” she yelled, extending her monomolecular claws and bringing them down on a long rifle with a wooden stock. Her claws shattered the weapon and she spun and slammed the man in the chest with a hammer fist. He crumpled; she doubted he’d get up anytime soon.
Actual fire burned the ground around her, encircling her like a living thing. She leaped backward, flipping over the bands of flame, landing on her feet to search for the super. One of the two who weren’t carrying guns held his hands out like a puppeteer as he maneuvered the flame around, in an attempt to capture her.
“He wants her alive,” someone yelled. The Fire Puppeteer nodded, a cruel sneer on his face.
She had lost track of the other super but she didn’t have time to find him now. She ran forward and just as she would have struck the flames she teleported. Appearing past the fire controller, she turned and struck out at him with the heel of her boot. She connected with his back and felt the crunch of something breaking. Even as he screamed she knew he wouldn’t be getting back up.
He collapsed, clutching his back as his legs gave out. After he fell the firing stopped and the area went silent for a moment.
“Long time no see, Domino,” a familiar voice said, just as she heard the crunch of a person taking a bite out of an apple.
Kate froze, her skin tingling as she recognized who spoke. They’d encountered him twice before and each time he’d started his powers by taking a bite of an apple. Amelia called him “Apple-man” but that was all the name they had on him. The last time she’d met him, he almost killed her.
She turned slowly; she could now see that he was the other person not carrying a firearm.
“You,” she said.
He smiled at her. He was sitting, inside the overturned truck. The stolen girls were huddled behind him as he took another bite of the apple.
“Bang,” he said. “You’re dead.”
TWENTY-SIX
THE PROTECTOR
Carlos shook his head, trying to clear the sleep from his head. He’d started his “day” thirty-six hours before; between waiting to hear from Kate and his regular Protector duties, he was spent. Then there was the argument. Or at least he thought it was an argument.
What was wrong with her? Every time I think we’re getting somewhere she pulls some crap like this.
He liked her, really liked her. For whatever reason, she liked him back. He knew his time in the Ancient world had changed him. Part of him hardly recognized himself anymore—he still hadn’t gone home to see his parents because he needed more time, more distance to explain his dramatic transformation. A couple of years wouldn’t cut it.
But Kate... he sighed. She was so— perfect. Not just the fact that she was a dream to look at, but she was nice, kind, smart, the list went on. She was everything Carlos liked about women.
He shook his head. He’d screwed it up, he was sure. If she was mad at him, it had to be his fault. He just needed to figure out what he’d done.
“Thank you, sir,” a fireman said as he walked by. It brought Carlos’s mind back to the present. The apartment fire was under control and, thanks to the efforts of these men and women, no one had died.
“My pleasure.” He didn’t want to waste any more time here; there was always someone who needed the Protector. “Milton?”
“Here sir,” the AI said.
“What’s next?”
“There are three things that could use your attention. A bridge collapsed near Manarola, a passenger ship in the Med has declared a state of emergency, and there is a hostage situation in a night club in Greece.”
He sighed. His mandate was to save lives; in the absence of Pythia’s near omnipotent ability to send him on missions, he relied on Milton to guide him.
“Which one has the largest possible loss of life?” he asked.
“Seventy-four cars were on the bridge, two hundred people are on the passenger ship, and the night club has a maximum capacity of three hundred people. However, in the absence of more information it would be impossible to know which one is more pressing.”
“Of course,” he muttered. “All three then. Nightclub first, then the bridge, followed by the boat. Where exactly is the night club?”
He reached out reflexively toward his spear. He hadn’t needed it to help fight the fire, but now he did. It flew through the air above the crowd to slap against his palm with a thwack. Distantly, he heard the crowd cheering as he hauled back and heaved the ancient weapon into the sky.
As he flew through the air, Milton provided the address of the club. Carlos really didn’t know how everything in his powers worked. Once he knew where the trouble was, all he had to do was think about it and throw the spear; the magic of the armor did the rest.
He chuckled. Amelia would be pissed if she heard him call it magic.
Oh Niña, I hope you’re okay.
Thinking of Amelia reminded him that he wasn’t as indestructible as some thought. After all, the Titan had worked him over within an inch of his life. If it wasn’t for the armor’s ability to heal him, he would be dead as disco.
Regardless, traveling via the spear never grew old. One second he was outside a smoldering apartment building, the next he was in orbit, gazing down at the majesty and wonder of his home planet.
He only needed a second, though; up this high the Earth turned fast, and Greece was easily visible. He imagined the night club in his mind. Like every time he threw the spear, it guided itself.
He smiled as he felt the pull. For some reason, fate or luck, Carlos didn’t know, the spear always landed exactly where he was needed, the moment he was needed. He readied himself as space turned to the blue of the atmosphere, then Athens appeared and an instant later he crashed through the roof of the night club to land with a crunch on the dance floor, dropping to his knee as he hit.
The club was a huge multi-level space and all the levels were half sized and wide open so anyone could look down from the balconies to see the main floor from above.
He stood up, retrieving the spear from the ground and brushing the rubble from his chest plate as he stepped off the... oh, a person. The rifle clutched in the man’s hand made it clear he was one of the terrorists— just the one, though. There were probably more.
“Who are you?” One of two other men with long beards and rifles asked.
Carlos spoke English and some Spanish, along with ancient Latin and Greek. His helmet—the same helmet Leonidas wore while defending Greece from the Persians—translated all languages into English so he could both understand and speak any language on Earth.
In this case it was some version of a Middle Eastern dialect. Great. That means the likelihood of them surrendering is pretty low. Still, I have to try.
“I’m the Protector—maybe you’ve heard of me?” he said softly.
The two men, hardly older than Carlos himself, looked to each other then back at the man Carlos had smashed. If the spear guided him here, then maybe he’d taken out the most immediate threat. He took a second to really look at the two men; he could tell they were terrified. A hundred battles under Alexander had shown him exactly what fear looked like, not only in his own heart but in men’s eyes.
He held up his off hand in the universal gesture and smiled. “I’m sure we can talk this out, right? No one needs to die today.”
They looked
at his feet again, then back to him.
“No one else needs die this day. Tell me what’s going on? Why are you doing this?”
His senses told him there were over a hundred scared people in the room with him. Sadly, several were dead. It angered him, but if he could stop this peacefully, he would. His job was to protect everyone. He focused on innocent lives but if he could save more, he would.
“You’re an infidel, you don’t belong here,” the younger of the two said.
Carlos stiffened. He didn’t want to argue religion with them, especially since he’d met living gods before.
“True, but just because we disagree, does that mean we can’t get along? Can you not have your beliefs, let me have mine, and we both go our separate ways?” he asked. It was worth a shot. After all, if he only had friends who believed what he did he probably wouldn’t have any friends at all.
The two boys looked to each other again, as if the idea had never occurred to them. Carlos decided that the man he had flattened was the leader and had probably convinced these two poor kids they were doing the right thing.
He shook his head. Taking hostages and threatening civilians was completely against his belief system, but again, if he could save them, he would.
“No,” the younger one said suddenly. “You are full of lies and deceit. You know nothing of our life, or our sacrifices, of the suffering we’ve seen!”
With one hand up, the other holding his spear, Carlos slowly sat down, crossing his sandaled feet, resting the spear across his lap, and leaning the shield against his arm. “You’re right, but let me tell you a story—trust me you’ll like it.
“Three thousand years ago a massive army marched across this very spot. They were led by Menelaus, the king of Sparta. He was desperately in love with his wife, Helen, and she was abducted by this guy Paris—”
“Like the city?” the older one asked.
Carlos nodded. “That’s why it’s called Paris. Anyway, he sailed hundreds of miles with ten-thousand soldiers and spent a decade sieging Troy for this woman.”
Ancient Arsenal (Full Metal Superhero Book 7) Page 13