Dark Flame tumbled upward until he felt Blue Spekter’s hands grab him from behind. Then he accelerated upward into the atmosphere.
“What the hell did you just kill those people for?” Blue Spekter shouted.
Dark Flame turned his head to the left and twisted his body around. “It’s none of your damn business!” His right fist swung around and slammed into Blue Spekter’s face, causing him to change course slightly. A shower of blue and orange sparks rained down from them and Dark Flame reared back and punched his ex-friend again.
“Let go of me!” he shouted, grabbing for Blue Spekter’s clothes. Instead, his hands only met sweaty, slippery flesh. What the hell? Are you naked? Why does your chest look black and burnt? Whatever… Then, he superheated his body and allowed it to become consumed with deep purple and orange flames. The sudden discharge of power and heat pushed Blue Spekter away.
Dark Flame smiled wickedly as he fell back toward earth. “Next time, stay out of The Order’s business.”
Blue Spekter recovered and hovered in midair, watching him fall.
Reaching an altitude he could fly at, and knowing Blue Spekter wouldn’t understand the limitations of his powers at the moment, Dark Flame saluted and then rocketed inland, making his way back to the high school.
Behind him, Blue Spekter watched in disbelief as Dark Flame flew away.
❖
Quinn
The family’s hide-a-key allowed Quinn discreet entry into his house to clean up. Both his dads were at work, so he could easily hide the evidence of a late-morning shower.
Quinn furiously scrubbed the soot stains off his body for a third time with his loofa. The dark gray water that had run into the drain finally turned clear.
What the hell was Blake doing out there? Was this The Order’s business? I swear, this is becoming unnecessarily complicated and I need to sort this out fast. I need to get back to school and talk with Mr. St. Germain.
Satisfied with the clean state of his skin and hair, he toweled off and picked out new clothes to wear. I hope the suit Ron’s brother makes will be more resistant to heat and fire than my clothes are.
After dressing, he turned invisible and made his way out of the house, returning the hide-a-key to its location. He took a deep breath and launched himself into the air.
A minute later, he hovered over the school, searching for agents who would be entering one of the entrances. He sensed Blake already inside the building, sitting in class.
Shit, I missed my U.S. History quiz…
When he saw two guards walk toward the entrance he had exited from, he swooped down and flew through the doorway, not caring about the slight breeze the guards noticed as he passed by them.
He flew down through the empty hallways and extended his arms out to his sides, pretending to be an airplane. This is kinda cool.
When he reached his locker and landed, he confirmed the coast was clear, became visible, and unlocked his locker.
When he opened the door, a folded note fell to the ground. He picked it up and opened it, immediately recognizing Blake’s handwriting: Do that again and I’ll be sure to make you suffer.
Quinn lowered the note, his heart dropping to his stomach. How could you even say that to me?
He took a deep breath and sighed. He looked down the hall and the boy’s bathroom sign jumped out at him. Ron’s right, we can’t do this alone. We—whatever that is—need help. I guess I need to put my suspicions aside and trust Ana Maria is here to help us. I think it’s also time I make that other call…
He grabbed what he needed from his locker and then walked to the bathroom, cellphone in hand. After checking the stalls to make sure he was alone, he looked up the number for Captain David Prett and pressed dial. It rang a few times until the call connected.
“Captain Prett speaking,” a familiar voice answered.
“Hi, we’ve met before,” Quinn said, using the code phrase David had given him.
“I’ll be in town in two days. Can it wait until then? Otherwise, I need to call you back on a secure line.”
“Yes, but not beyond that.” This sounds so James Bond, I love it!
“How about we meet at noon in two days where I handed you my business card?”
“All right, I’ll pick you up.”
“Um, okay…see you then.”
Quinn pocketed his phone and took another deep breath. All right, now all I have to do is meet with Ana Maria.
3-14 | These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends
Blake
SLOUCHED ON HIS COUCH, BLAKE absentmindedly bounced a rubber ball against the opposite wall of his living room. Earlier, he showered and dressed for school, but he hadn’t left his condo yet. Several hours into the morning, his mind reeled with distraction and he felt exhausted from wrestling with the nightmares that plagued his sleep again. Despite the bizarre incident of the Cerulean mission, the women and children from the power plant in Boston still bothered him. Also, he kicked himself for not interrogating Victor about his whereabouts when he spoke with him on the phone after the man angrily ordered him to destroy the fleeing thieves on Interstate 95.
I know what I have to do in Boston; I just have to do it. I guess now is as good a time as any.
He went up to his room and changed into a pair of his purple super tights and sneakers. Even though he felt silly wearing them without a shirt, the Cerulean mission had cemented it as his Dark Flame uniform.
He reached into his closet and pulled out a black, zip-up hoodie and put it on. Then, he sat on his bed and grabbed his laptop from the nightstand. He opened the map application and studied Boston Harbor, noting the location of the power plant in relation to the Tobin Bridge. He grabbed his cell phone and called Radoslav.
“Dark Flame,” the man answered with surprise. “Why you no in school?”
Blake smirked at Radoslav’s broken English. “Can you be in the, uh, interrogation room in about ninety minutes?”
“For you, sixty or less.”
“Good. Have your tools ready to go. I have a job for you…if you catch my drift.”
“Did Victor approve this?” the man asked, his thick accent coming through the phone.
“I don’t answer to Victor anymore,” he brazenly answered. Besides, Victor’s gone missing.
“I see.”
“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”
“Okay.”
He shut his laptop and tucked his phone into the waistband of his tights. Then, he made his way through his condo to the balcony and shut the doors behind him. He looked up, then willed himself to fly. His body responded by glowing bright orange and he accelerated, zipping downriver to the open ocean so he could follow the coastline down to Boston Harbor. It wouldn’t be hard to find the power plant from the air once he spotted the Tobin Bridge.
Dark Flame flew as fast as he could, pushing his limits and testing his flight abilities. Although Quinn was the master of super flight, he hoped he would gain stronger abilities with time.
Thirty minutes later, Dark Flame flew into Boston Harbor, soared under the Tobin Bridge, and landed where Chappy had parked the car.
I’ll burn this place to the ground.
Dark Flame walked to the old, rusty back doors and noted a series of new locks had been installed. He chuckled when he saw them, then reached out with his mind and crushed the metal locks, ripping them off the doors. Then, he yanked the doors from their hinges and let them clatter to the ground.
Patricia stared at him as he walked toward her reception area through the dimly lit, painted cinderblock hallway that still smelled of dust and mustiness. Above him, a fluorescent light flickered as he approached the office area.
She didn’t hesitate to raise her hands in surrender and she stared at him, bug-eyed.
“How is it you can work here and sleep at night?” Dark Flame asked, anger already boiling in his veins and voice.
“It’s a job honey, I have to pay the bills like everyone else.
” She spoke with a heavy South Boston accent.
“No, working at the grocery store is ‘a job.’” He pointed to the doors behind her. “That’s different. Do you know what goes on behind you?”
She nodded and glanced at the doors. “Y-yes.”
“And you’re okay with it?” he asked incredulously?
She shook her head. “No, but I gots to pay the bills. And you gotta understand honey, once you get in with these people it’s really hard to get out. When I started working here, I thought I was working for a power plant until I accidentally saw what the…uh, company…was doing back there. But then, it was too late and I couldn’t get out. So, I’m stuck.”
“Not for long.”
She looked at him with surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I think you should take the rest of the day off Patricia, and never come back. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to look for a new job tomorrow.”
“But…”
“Do you really want to argue with me?”
She shook her head. “Nope. But there’s something you should know.”
Dark Flame paused. “What’s that?”
“When you took out Arnold, the one Radoslav called Big Boss, you pissed off a lot of the higher-ups in the company. The next guy in the food chain, Melvin, is up in the office trying to make sense of the business. You did them a favor by taking Arnold out because he was skimming off the top, if you catch my drift. They’ve picked things up since your last visit, but unfortunately they’ve also rounded up most of the workers by threatening their families.”
Dark Flame nodded with understanding. “Melvin, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Go home, Patricia. Get a job that doesn’t turn people into slaves and don’t ever come back here.”
The receptionist scrambled to her feet and nodded. “Thank you, whoever you are.” She pulled her coat from the rack and tossed it over her arm. Then, she grabbed her purse and a plant from her desk and hurried down the hallway, her shoes clacking on the tile floor.
Dark Flame looked at the doors that led into the control room; even they had shiny new locks on them.
It’s cute they think those locks will keep me out…
He shook his head, raised his hand, then forced the doors open. They slammed open and startled two workers on the other side in the control room.
“Hey!” the first worker exclaimed. He had an automatic rifle slung around his shoulder.
“Hey yourself,” Dark Flame said. He didn’t hesitate to throw the man across the room.
“Oh shit, it’s you,” the second worker said, reaching for his weapon.
Dark Flame grabbed that man and threw him across the room as well. Both men lay unconscious or dead on the floor; he didn’t care which. Then, he forced open the next set of doors and stepped into the massive power plant-turned-factory.
All eyes—guards and workers alike—turned and focused on him, startled by the unusual sight and sound of metal doors ripping from their hinges and crunching into a semi-circle shape.
“Who the hell are you?” a big burly guard asked, advancing on him.
“¡El diablo!” a woman shouted from the rear of the factory floor. People around her gasped in panic and fear.
Dark Flame smirked and looked at the man. “Some people call me Dark Flame, but you can call me your worst nightmare.”
The man waved his sausage-fingered hand dismissively and swung his gun around. “You’re just a kid, what can you possibly do?”
He jerked his thumb toward the crushed doors behind him. “Really? Did you not just see that?”
The man glanced at the doors, then looked at Dark Flame again, sizing him up.
I’m bored and I can tell you’re going to be tedious.
Dark Flame pulled the hoodie off his head, revealing his glowing orange eyes. A moment later, he reached through the air with his mind, grabbed the larger man, and threw him across the factory floor with enough force to explode the dirty floor-to ceiling window pane the man sailed through, shrieking in terror. Glass shattered and fell to the factory floor.
The workers screamed with terror around him.
Dark Flame looked around and saw over two-thirds of the illegal workforce had returned. He recognized some of the men, women, and children from his first visit. A number of new guards on the suspended gangways and ramps aimed their weapons at him. In a loud voice, he addressed them.
“I have two things to say. First, to the workers on the factory floor. You will never have to come back here again. I suggest you leave, now.” Then he raised his hands and pointed to the guards on the cat walks. “If they told you what I did to the first set of guards, you be wise to lower your weapons and leave right now, too.”
“Yeah, they told us,” one of the cocky guards yelled from the other side of the factory. “But, they didn’t tell us you were a punk ass kid wearing sissy ballerina tights!”
Dark Flame sighed.
He slowly and methodically unzipped his black hoodie, pulled it off, and set it on one of the idle machines. He pulled his phone out of his waistband and set it on top of the hoodie. He advanced and stood in their midst, shirtless, wearing only his purple super pants and sneakers.
“Then by all means, fire away.”
He ignited his body and his legs, torso, arms, and head with purple and orange flame. The factory workers screamed with panic and fear. Some of them dropped to the floor while others ran to the exits. The guards above him hesitated, appearing surprised by what they saw.
Dark Flame took the opportunity to look at the office. Six armed enforcers observed him from behind the shattered office windows. Behind them, three men in business suits watched him with intense curiosity. He pointed up at the office. “One of you three assholes is coming with me.”
“Take aim!” someone yelled.
Humans and their guns. He smirked, recalling Magneto’s infamous phrase from the movie X-Men: The Last Stand.
“Let’s kill this twinkle-toed motherfucker,” someone else shouted.
Dark Flame jumped up and hovered twenty-feet above the factory floor. The guards took a moment to re-aim their weapons and then gunfire echoed throughout the all-metal and concrete enclosure of the factory.
He put his hands out and snared the bullets about two feet away from him. Then, he superheated his body and melted the bullets to slag. They dripped to the floor, scorching whatever they touched below him. Some of the molten metal splashed around the floor below him, landing on the rubber conveyor belts and melting through them, while other drippings struck the oily rubber that caught fire.
The gunfire stopped as the first round of magazines emptied. Stunned, the guards stared at him, their faces conveying shock and disbelief.
Dark Flame laughed maniacally. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Now it’s my turn.” He turned his hands into flame throwers and blasted the guards with deadly, searing hot fire. They screamed as their clothing and skin ignited and melted, clawing and patting at the melted skin of their faces in pain and agony.
Behind him, other guards struggled to reload while others panicked and ran. Dark Flame turned his attention to them and blasted their escape routes with searing fire, melting some of the gangway supports in the process. One of larger structures buckled and collapsed, taking three screaming guards down with it.
The old, dusty factory building quickly caught fire and the remaining workers below shouted in mixed languages as they hastened to the exits. He extended his hands to his sides and slowly spun, blasting everything around him with hot, incinerating fire, until no guards were left alive.
Satisfied, he pointed his hands at the largest idle conveyor belt beneath him. It held rows of neatly ordered cardboard baby diaper boxes, each stuffed with packages of drugs and diapers.
That must be how they get the drugs out, by packing them in innocuous-looking boxes. Not anymore…not from here.
He blasted it with super-hot fire and watched the boxes and the belt incin
erate into ash. The ceiling above him buckled and creaked at the intense heat that pummeled it from below. A moment later, the ceiling caught fire.
Sharp pinches caught his back and he winced, groaning in pain as bullets struck his back.
Wow, these bullets really hurt!
He spun around to see who was firing at him. The bullets that struck his skin did him no harm; instead they melted and dripped to the floor, scorching whatever they fell on. He glared at the six enforcers in the office who fired at him with some kind of extra loud, military-grade assault rifle. Behind them, the three men in business suits were trying to unlock the back door and escape.
Baring his teeth in anger, Dark Flame grabbed the six guards and ripped them through the shattered office windows. As they got closer to him, they desperately covered their faces and yelled in agony at the intense heat oppressing their bodies. Dark Flame scorched them with a fiery purple-orange blast of hot flames and dropped their burning corpses to the ground. Then, he willed himself to move forward through the air toward the office.
One of the suits noted his approach and swore in a language he didn’t understand. The three men turned to face him, their backs pressed against the wall in abject fear. The scorch mark where he had burned Arnold hadn’t been painted over yet. Dark Flame landed in the office doorway and dialed down his flaming body. Behind him, the floor-to-ceiling windows popped and burst as the burning power plant surrendered to the flames that sealed its fate.
“Which one of you is Melvin?” Dark Flame asked.
Two of the men stared at each other and pointed at the third, who turned ghostly white.
Dark Flame smiled. “Thank you.” Then, he grabbed Melvin with his mind and separated him from his friends, moving him through the air to the other side of the office. The man screamed, swatting at the invisible hand that gripped his body.
There’s something I need to try out first before I deal with you.
He extinguished his body and walked toward the other two men, who whimpered and trembled with fear at his approach. Quick as lightning, Dark Flame wrapped his fingers around each man’s throat. Summoning a familiar sensation, he watched as blackness leached into each man’s veins, creeping away from his tightening fingers. Their skin turned ashen and the men gasped and struggled for air, slapping and clawing at his arms, desperate to get away from his deadly attack. “You bastards will never fuck with innocent people again,” he growled as anger coursed through his veins. Then, he felt a surge of life and energy pass into his body.
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