If this is the level of excitement you expect me to endure with these kinds of missions, we’re going to have to chat again.
About an hour after darkness descended over the harbor, the Moran tugboats detached from the Cerulean and made their way back to their berths. The dock crews had finished mooring the ship and were leaving the area. The crisp, cold air was still that night, and Dark Flame rested his elbows on the port railing of the ship. It was now a waiting game for the trucks to arrive so they could transport the cargo back to Seavey Island.
Something whistled through the air, catching Dark Flame’s attention.
“Ow!” Dark Flame cried out, stumbling backward over some loose crates while grabbing at something long and black he had barely noticed. Whatever it was, it struck him in the left pectoral and it hurt like hell. He struck his head on a container and swore, finally coming to a stop on the deck. The tension headache he thought was gone immediately returned.
“Ow,” he said softly, holding the back of his head with his free hand. With his other, he studied the object in his hand. Another whistling sound zipped through the air and caught one of the guards in the head with a squishy, thwuck sound. The man toppled to the deck with a thud, dead, an arrow shaft sticking out of his left eye.
“Dark Flame!” Samuel yelled, pressing his hand against his ear. “The station dock has been compromised. We’re under attack!”
“Ya think?” Dark Flame asked, holding up an arrow in the dim light. His impenetrable skin had bent the sharp, metal tip upon impact. He looked down at his chest and didn’t see blood, so he knew arrows wouldn’t be a threat.
“They’re using arrows to…” Dark Flame shouted, but the pain in his head cut off the rest of his sentence.
“Everyone, get down!” Gary shouted. Another whistling sound, a squishy thwuck, and then Gary gasped for air.
No!
Dark Flame, still clutching his pounding head, watched Gary struggle with disbelief. An arrow pierced the man’s neck and punctured the right carotid artery. Blood spurted out of the wound and splashed to the deck while a surprised Gary struggled to breathe, each attempt sounding more like frustrated gurgling.
“Well, shoot!” Gary managed to say, spraying blood from his mouth. Then, he fell forward onto the deck, the impact pushing the arrow all the way through Gary’s neck to its nock. He didn’t move.
“Medic!” Samuel shouted as he crawled to Dark Flame’s position. His big, meaty hand came down and grabbed Dark Flame’s arm and shook him. “Hey! Get out there and find those bastards! We’re two down already!”
“I can’t!” Dark Flame protested, gritting his teeth at the pain. “It hurts too much.”
“We’re gonna die if you don’t do your thing!” Samuel protested, looking over Dark Flame’s body. “Are you telling me you’re not arrow-proof? You don’t look injured.”
“I…I…can’t.” Dark Flame was on the verge of tears from the pain radiating outward from his neck. Around them, men shouted and scrambled for cover, desperate to catch a glimpse of their attackers.
“Yeah, you said that. Well shit, Dark Flame,” Samuel said. “I was hoping for a…”
Dark Flame gasped, then inhaled sharply, his muscles and body tensing as his fingers contracted into claw-like fists. His back arched and his toes curled in his sneakers as his leg muscles painfully contracted. Within his mind and body, Dark Flame felt a familiar sensation of unmistakable power and drive overtake the pain and replace it with a desire for vengeance. His eyes ignited with swirling, orange fury and his body relaxed.
“Back away, Samuel.” Dark Flame said. The man swore and pushed himself away as Dark Flame’s body warmed itself and shimmered with heat.
The pain at the base of his skull subsided. He rotated his neck and stood, then approached the railing of the main deck. Moisture steamed away from his torso into the chilly night air as he heated up and searched the Schiller Station grounds and buildings for the archer. Another whistling sound caught his attention but this time, he grabbed the arrow with his mind and held it in place, inches from his face.
I’ve got you now.
He faced the arrowhead and looked behind it, trying to determine the approximate location for the archer. Then, he used his super vision to watch for movement.
A snap and a whistling thwung caught his ear, and Dark Flame reached out and caught a second arrow, this one stopping at his left side.
“What are you doing?” Samuel asked.
“Trying to figure out how many archers are attacking us. There are at least two.”
Another snap and a thwung, and he caught a third arrow from a different direction. “Make that three.” He studied the locations behind the arrows and waited.
“We’re pinned down until you take out those archer nests,” Samuel said. “If Gary has a chance at living, you need to act now.”
“Gary’s dead,” Dark Flame said coldly. Suddenly, movement caught his eyes. “Found them.”
Then, his body burst into bright purple and orange light and he jumped over the railing of the ship, swan diving over the docks until he gracefully flew up toward the first archer’s position.
Dark Flame shattered the window in front of him with his mind and flew into the structure, landing with a grunt as he spotted the archer taking aim at him. Three arrows flew toward him, but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. The archer quickly nocked three more arrows then loosed them. Dark Flame grabbed the arrows, spun them around, then flung them back at the archer with such force that the arrows impaled the archer to the wall behind him.
Then, he rocketed out of the window and flew to the next location, shattering the glass of the open windows so he could enter the building. Two archers loosed arrows at him, but he deflected them to the floor. He blasted them with superheated fire from his hands and they screamed in agony and pain, their bodies burning until their carcasses fell to the floor. The walls and ceiling caught fire, but he didn’t care. A moment later, the sprinkler system switched on and doused the flames.
“Boarders!” Samuel yelled through their comm system. “Assume their intent is to destroy the cargo. Protect it at all costs. Dark Flame, we need you back on the ship immediately.”
“One minute,” he responded, jumping out of the window and flying to the third location. He stopped and hovered, noticing an archer aiming at him from the ground in front of the building. The archer loosed an arrow at him, which Dark Flame grabbed in his hand.
“You missed,” he snarled, aiming his free hand at the archer, ready to incinerate him.
“Did I?” a woman’s voice called back.
He hesitated when the arrow in his hand beeped, distracting him. He glanced at it with surprise and curiosity.
Aw, crap.
Then, the arrowhead exploded.
The loud explosion burst his eardrums, triggering an excruciating ringing in his ears. It was quickly replaced by the pain of his body slamming into the concrete surface of the loading area. He rolled on the ground, pressing his hands on his burning ears, trying to ease the torment he felt. His face smoldered and he cried out with agony, but it sounded like a muffled echo in his head.
The ringing in his ears and the disorienting blur in his vision prevented him from getting back up when he felt pinches on his body and realized they were shooting at him. He squinted and looked around. Blurry shadows of soldiers in black uniforms approached, their guns trained on him.
Get up and fight back!
The thoughts in his mind seemed sluggish.
He tried to get up, but couldn’t because his equilibrium remained disoriented by the explosion. Then, he rolled onto his back and looked at the sky, his hands covering his ears. His lucid mind pulled back from the present moment and he felt strong hands grabbing at him and pressing him down to the ground.
Voices spoke around him, but the voices were distorted and unclear. He felt a pinch at his neck, then another at his arm. He tried to swat them away with telekinesis, but he cou
ldn’t focus his mind.
They’re trying to drug me.
Distorted voices yelled around him and the pinching stopped.
Just relax, and this will pass. You’ll heal in a minute or two.
The hands holding him down moved as one and rolled him onto his stomach. Then, his hands were fastened behind his back with something cold and metallic. Then, his ankles were shackled together. A moment later, his hands and ankles were brought together, and the soldiers hogtied him by locking the metal shackles together.
One voice came through the echoey din. “Secure the target for transport.”
Dark Flame’s face and ears felt itchy, a sign that his healing powers were working to restore him.
Something was thrust into his mouth. It was round, uncomfortable, and it held his jaw open. Someone secured it tightly behind his head, along with a blindfold someone else pulled over his eyes.
The comm device in his ear still worked, but he couldn’t understand what his teammates were saying. Someone was shouting his codename, but he couldn’t respond. Instead, he grunted as the kidnappers hoisted him up.
I don’t have full strength yet, but I know I don’t want to go where they’re taking me.
“You sure he can’t break out of those? I heard he’s really strong,” a voice asked, breaking through the distorted noises ringing in his head.
“They’re titanium restraints. I’d like to see him try,” someone answered.
Dark Flame felt his arms falling asleep and he knew he needed to do something to get away. He tested his strength against the shackles, but stopped. Without his sight, he didn’t know what to do. A moment later, he felt pressure against his stomach as they lowered him onto something soft. A moment later, it moved…it rolled. A number of clicking sounds suggested he was being loaded into a vehicle, and then the rolling movement abruptly stopped with a jerky bang.
“Target is secured,” someone said, close to his head. “We’re moving out.” The doors at the back of the vehicle slammed shut and his body rocked back and forth as they drove away.
Come on, Blake…get it together.
3-11 | RuVeal
Quinn
A SHARP SOUND JARRED QUINN from sleep. He lifted his head up from the pillow and listened. Muffled mens’ voices and the sound of a closing door came through the floor. He dropped his head back onto his pillow.
My dads are home.
He blinked his eyes and focused on the blue LED numbers of his alarm clock.
11:30.
Oh wow, I guess I slept in.
He yawned and pushed himself out of bed, padding across the hall in his boxer shorts to use the restroom. When he finished, he went downstairs, running his hands through his bedhead. He entered the kitchen where his dads were unpacking groceries.
Daddio noticed him first. “Hey buddy, how are you? Glad to see you’re all right.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said. All right?
“Hi sleepyhead, I see we slept in, huh?” Dad asked, winking at him as he pulled vegetables out of the grocery bags. “Must be nice not to have responsibilities today, huh?”
Quinn smiled. “It is. I’m fully enjoying the benefits of having the afternoon shift.”
Daddio loaded the meats into the fridge. “You never answered our texts last night.”
“Your texts?” Quinn looked at him, confused. I don’t remember you texting me…that’s right, I was fighting the police and unconscious.
“Yeah, you know, the typed messages we send back and forth on our amazing smartphones? I woke up at three and pinged your phone’s location when I saw you didn’t text back. When I saw you were home, I went back to bed.”
“Oh, right,” Quinn said, remembering the family phones were set up so they could locate each other. “I’m sorry, I was so tired last night. I came home, jumped in the shower, and went straight to bed. It was stupid busy at work.”
“I thought you were not working today?” Dad interjected, studying the family calendar magnetized to the front of the refrigerator. “You said you have the afternoon shift, but the calendar says you aren’t working today.”
Quinn sleepily scratched his head and stared at the calendar. “Am I not working?”
“Yeah, isn’t this the weird random Sunday you had off? Dad and I were going to go running later together and I thought Keegan was coming over for dinner.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Quinn answered, smiling. I can’t wait to see Keegan tonight!
“Cool,” Daddio said.
“How was your dinner thing last night?” Quinn asked.
Dad shrugged. “It was fine, I mean it wasn’t very exciting and nothing unexpected happened.”
“What did you expect to happen?” Daddio asked.
“Nothing really, it’s just that sometimes these benefit functions are rather boring. Last night was a good example.”
Daddio shrugged. “Aw, babe, I thought it was fun.”
Dad laughed and pointed at his husband. “You liked checking out the hot waiters.”
“Oh boy,” Quinn said, rolling his eyes and laughing.
“Did not!” Daddio exclaimed in mock defense. Then, he smiled. “Okay, maybe just a little.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Predictable.”
“I’m going to shower,” Quinn announced.
“Okay, do you want lunch or a late brunch?” Daddio asked.
Quinn spun around and snapped the fingers of his left hand. “We are gay and it’s Sunday. I expect a fabulous brunch with bacon.” Daddio burst into laughter and Quinn made his way upstairs to shower.
“Dear lord, we’ve raised diva.” Dad commented.
“Speaking of which…” Daddio replied.
A moment later, Cher’s Woman’s World blared through the house’s sound system.
❖
“What do you think?” Quinn asked. “Can we trust her?”
“I don’t think we have a choice,” Ron answered. “By the way, when did you become we?”
Quinn had texted Ron after a more than satisfying brunch with his dads and met up with him at his house to discuss the arrival of Ana Maria Garcia. Since it was an unseasonably warm day for November. They decided to walk to Prescott Park. They waited for a car to pass before crossing Middle Street.
“It’s always been we for me,” Quinn answered. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your help.”
“Well, I’m flattered,” his mentor responded.
“Do you want a cool name like in the comic books?”
Ron laughed. “You mean like the Justice League’s Watchtower or something?”
Quinn shrugged. “That’s taken.”
“Right, right. It needs to be something original. Unfortunately, I lack the sophisticated technology to monitor the entire city and planet for criminal activity, not that our quaint little town has nearly the level of problems that Star City, Metropolis, or Gotham have.
“Thank goodness for that,” Quinn answered. “I wouldn’t have time to fight all that crime and go to school.”
“Honestly, I think you need to learn what you can from Ana Maria. In reality, she’s the newest member of our team.”
“But which team is she really on?” Quinn asked. “I want to know if she has an agenda other than preventing The Order from making more superhumans.”
“Agreed. At the moment, your goals are in alignment, but she might be in a league of her own. Still, I’m fairly certain it’s not a bad idea to work with her.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” Quinn asked.
Ron shrugged. “A little bit of both. Sometimes, when a new character arrives on scene, you can’t always tell what their intentions are. They could make your life better or much, much worse.”
“That’s uh…not very comforting.”
Ron clutched his chest and added, “Take heart, noble hero, I am but a mere mortal advising a super-powered being who will apparently age more gracefully than the rest of us.”
Quinn l
aughed, and they let a car pass before crossing Pleasant Street.
“Here’s the catch,” Ron said. “It might be wiser to keep her in the background. If The Order discovers they succeeded in creating a superhuman years ago they will stop at nothing to make more.”
“That’s just insane,” Quinn commented.
“Evil often is, whether you understand its perspective or not. So, you may have to be the solo superhero in the foreground fighting the battles without Ana Maria.”
Quinn stopped and shook his head. “No way, she has to fight with me and risk exposing herself to the world.” Ron stopped with him, and Quinn continued. “I don’t know that I can defeat Blake on my own, especially after he walloped me good back in Rangeley.”
“Well, that’s a conversation you need to have with her.”
They continued walking. “Even if The Order manages to create superhumans, it’s going to take them time to figure out their powers, right?”
“What do you mean?” Mr. St. Germain asked. “Well, it sounds like her powers developed over time and now, fifty or so years later, they’re probably really strong. Blake and my powers took weeks to get to where they are now, so it’s highly unlikely that a superhuman army would ever surpass us because they would always be playing catchup when compared to us. Or like, there’s no way they can make them at full power, is there?”
Ron shrugged. “I have no idea, buddy. Maybe not in the first instances, but you should expect them to develop the technology as time allows. That said, I like where your thoughts are going. Theoretically, you will always have the upper hand whenever you battle a new super-powered person, but if they make a bunch at a time, there’s nothing that says they couldn’t overwhelm you with numbers.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think about that.”
“What we really need is intelligence; raw data about The Order. I’m willing to accept they routinely scrub the Internet, but that means there’s a datacenter out there somewhere that holds all their secrets. We need to find a way to infiltrate The Order’s networked systems and find out where there other reactors are.”
The Guardians Omnibus Page 59