Heroes (The Young Neos Book 5)

by Lucas Flint

  “Who cares?” came Volto’s reply. “But keep talking. It will make it easier for me to find you.”

  Talon immediately shut her mouth. She got up and began walking doubled over to the other end of the crate. She may have been outnumbered, but she realized that neither Volto nor Pantalone had night vision. As long as she stuck to the shadows, Talon could potentially use the darkness to her advantage. She would just have to hope that the two Venetians were too afraid of the dark to follow her.

  The sound of flapping wings above her made Talon look up in alarm. Pantalone was swooping down toward her, his claws wide open, causing Talon to dive to the ground to avoid getting her slashed. She rolled out from behind the crate and got back to her feet, but realized almost too late that she was standing out in the open again. Volto aimed his gun at her again, so Talon dashed forward to avoid him.

  Unfortunately, Volto’s trigger finger was faster than her legs. She heard a gun shot go off and something slammed into her right calf. It didn’t pierce her costume—which, like the costumes of her fellow Young Neos, was bulletproof—but it did hurt. She gasped and fell to the ground, almost cracking her skull against the floor, but she scrambled back to her feet just as she heard flapping wings behind her.

  Talon turned around just in time to see Pantalone’s claws reaching toward her face. She raised her own claws just in the nick of time, blocking Pantalone’s talons, but Pantalone must have been stronger than he looked, because he forced her backwards and she found it hard to stay put. She realized that Pantalone was simply much heavier than her, which was how he was able to push her around like that.

  A loud cawing sound above her was immediately followed by a flurry of wings and feathers that got in her face. Beak and claws pecked and scratched at her, the beak and claws of Charlie the crow. Instinctively, Talon raised her claws above her head, but then Pantalone slashed across her chest with his claws.

  Pantalone’s claws tore through the chest of her suit, even cutting into her flesh. Talon cried out in pain and fell onto the ground, her head spinning and her senses confused. She could feel her bloody chest and realized that Pantalone had just barely missed her breasts, though she was in so much pain that she paid no attention to that.

  Suddenly, Pantalone stood above her. He slammed a foot down on her chest wound, causing Talon to scream in pain.

  “Mr. Mann did not give us orders to murder you, specifically,” said Pantalone. “But I am sure he won’t mind if we do. He will understand.”

  Talon, however, was not about to let herself get killed. The pain from her chest wound was intense; however, she summoned enough strength to raise her right claw and stab it into Pantalone’s right ankle, the one which he was standing on her wound with.

  Pantalone howled in pain and stepped off of Talon, jerking his leg out of her claw. Pantalone staggered backwards, clutching his bleeding leg, while Talon rolled over onto her belly and, getting to her feet, ran behind a large metal storage container. She didn’t stop, however, but kept running until she spotted two metal barrels that she could hide behind. She hid behind the barrels and sank to the ground, panting and grimacing from the pain in her chest, but she did not hear either Pantalone or Volto following her.

  They won’t let me get away for long, though, Talon thought. Sooner or later, they’ll come looking for me. I need to keep running.

  Talon tried to stand up, but the pain in her wounded chest was too much. She looked down at her wound, but it was impossible to see much of it in the darkness. She felt it and cringed at the soft, bloody tissue that Pantalone’s claws had created. The wound didn’t feel very deep, but it could still get infected, assuming Talon lived long enough for it to get infected, of course.

  I need to end this battle quickly, Talon thought. I can’t expect White or Stinger to save me, assuming what Pantalone said was true. I have to deal with this problem on my own.

  But Talon did not want to get up. She was too tired and in too much pain to get up. She hoped that she was hidden well enough that the Venetians would not be able to find her for hours, if ever.

  That was when Talon’s world abruptly went dark. She felt something moving inside her; not quite an organic thing, but alive nonetheless. It felt like a powerful gust of wind, but at the same time, far more intelligent than mere wind. It felt like it had taken control of her body, leaving her feeling incredibly disconnected from her own body for a moment.

  Another moment, however, and Talon realized she was back in her body. She didn’t understand what that meant at first until it suddenly hit her: Volto had briefly taken control of her body with his soul, much like how he did with that garbage monster in the Genesis Institute. She wondered at first why he had not simply taken control of her body and forced her out of hiding, until she realized that he wasn’t looking to control her, but find her.

  Panic rising within her, Talon rose to her feet, but then she heard flapping wings and realized that Pantalone was nearby. She didn’t understand how he could still be coming after her even after she stabbed his leg, but that was irrelevant to her at the moment. She just ran out from her hiding place, seeking to go even further into the shipping containers scattered around the warehouse, but something huge and feathery landed in her path, forcing Talon to come to a halt.

  Pantalone was in her path now, and, in the darkness of the night, he looked angrier than ever. He didn’t stand quite right; most of his weight appeared to be on his good left leg. Still, Talon had no doubt that Pantalone could still kill her, injured leg or no.

  “There … you … are,” said Pantalone, his voice heavy with pain and anger. “You can’t get away from us this time.”

  Talon stepped backwards, but heard footsteps and looked over her shoulder just in time to see Volto—still carrying his gun—appear in the only exit she could have used to escape. Volto pointed the gun at her, but he did not fire, most likely because he didn’t want to accidentally shoot Pantalone in the process.

  “All right, girl,” said Volto. “We have you cornered, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a choice.”

  “Choice? What … what do you mean?” said Talon, panting slightly.

  “Your choice in how to die, of course,” said Volto. “Pantalone could tear you apart piece by piece with his claws … or I could possess your body and have you shoot yourself with this gun. It would probably be less painful that way.”

  Talon looked from Volto to Pantalone and back again. She was totally trapped. Pantalone and Volto blocked off all possible escape routes. She could possibly try to force her way through them, but even disregarding her chest injury, she would still have to pick one to fight, which would mean leaving her back exposed to the other one. It was a hopeless situation.

  “Awfully quiet now, girl,” said Pantalone. “No clever comebacks? Very well. First, I will start with your eyes. Then your heart.”

  Pantalone took one step forward, but that was all he could do, because in the next instant, the windows of the warehouse above them exploded in a shower of glass and flames.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Treehugger hated being underground. She absolutely despised it. She preferred to be on the surface, where the sun was. She always felt better under the sun than in the darkness beneath the earth.

  She especially didn’t like the tunnel that she, Sparky, Blizzard, and Shell were running in. Yes, they were safer down here than they were back up on the surface where the Servants of the Starborn were, but that did not mean that Treehugger liked this place very much. The carvings on the walls appeared to depict the Servants performing all sorts of gruesome tortures on prisoners from the past, including one that would probably be stuck in Treehugger’s nightmares forever. It was also cold down here, much colder than the surface, and there were strange tree roots running along the roof; at least, Treehugger assumed they were tree roots, although they looked like no roots she had ever seen before. They were rocky and slightly metallic, reflecting the light from Sparky’s fingers, but because
they were in such a hurry, Treehugger did not get to spend as much time on the roots as she wanted. The tunnel also smelled like death, which didn’t help Treehugger’s stomach very much.

  “How much farther do we have to go, Sparky?” said Shell, who was in the front of the group, just barely behind Sparky.

  “Not much farther now,” Sparky replied. Unlike Shell, his voice had no stress to it, but that was probably because he was a robot and therefore did not get tired like they did. “Space and Galaxy ought to be just around the corner up ahead. Just a little bit more and we’ll find them.”

  Treehugger looked around at the walls as they ran. “What’s up with all of these freaky carvings? Is this what the Servants consider ‘art’?”

  “Psychological tactic,” Sparky replied without looking over his shoulder. “The Servants are masters at using psychological warfare on their enemies. By depicting scenes of gruesome torture, it puts their prisoners into a frightened, easily spooked state of mind.”

  “So these are just fictional, then?” said Treehugger hopefully.

  “Most of them, probably,” said Sparky. “Possibly. It depends.”

  Treehugger gulped, but she didn’t get to respond to that because they turned a corner and suddenly found themselves standing in front of a series of cells along the opposite wall. There were about six cells in all, locked with huge, thick locks that looked like stars. Treehugger did not see Space and Galaxy in any of the cells, but given how dark the dungeon was and how weak the lights from Sparky’s fingers were, she figured that that wasn’t very surprising.

  “Here we are,” said Sparky, gesturing at the cells. “Space and Galaxy should be in one of those cells.”

  Treehugger, eager to save them, ran over to the cells, as did Blizzard and Shell. The three of them made their way down the cells, peering into each dark cell with the hope of seeing Space or Galaxy. Treehugger, in particular, strained her eyes in an effort to spot Space and Galaxy through the darkness of the cells.

  “Space? Galaxy? Hello?” said Treehugger. “Where are you guys? It’s me, Treehugger! I’m here to rescue you, along with Sparky and some of my friends.”

  But despite the fact that Treehugger was speaking aloud, she did not receive any response from the cells. And based on what she could see through the darkness, they were all totally empty. She looked at Blizzard and Shell, who had been inspecting the cells down the row, and asked, “Guys, have you found Space or Galaxy yet?”

  “Not yet,” Blizzard replied. “The cells I checked were empty.”

  “Same here,” said Shell. “It doesn’t look like these cells have been used in years, based on how dusty they are.”

  “What?” said Treehugger. “That can’t be right. Sparky said that Space and Galaxy were down here. Right, Sparky?”

  Treehugger looked over at Sparky when she said that. Unlike Treehugger or the others, Sparky had not moved from his position near the entrance. He stood very still, the lights on his fingers casting eerie shadows across his robotic features. It made him look quite sinister.

  “Sparky?” said Treehugger, slowly turning to face him. “Did you hear me? Hello?”

  “Yes, Treehugger, I heard you,” said Sparky, though there was a definite edge to his voice now. “I heard how you and the others failed to find Space and Galaxy.”

  “They must have been moved out of their cells before we got here,” said Blizzard, brushing back some of her white hair. “The Servants either knew we were coming here and so moved them out ahead of time or it was just a coincidence that they moved them out before we got here. Either way, it looks like we just wasted a lot of time and effort for nothing.”

  “I would not say this was all wasted for nothing, Blizzard,” said Sparky. “After all, I have you three right where I want you now.”

  All of a sudden, Sparky jerked his other hand toward them. Strange energy tentacles lashed out from his hands faster than Treehugger’s eyes could follow. The tendrils wrapped around her, Blizzard, and Shell, knocking all three of them to the ground. The tendrils tightened their hold around their bodies, making it impossible for any of them to escape. The tendrils felt as solid as chains and as tight as rope, but Treehugger fought against them as hard as she could anyway.

  “Sparky, what’s the meaning of this?” said Treehugger, her voice strained from the effort of trying to free herself. “Why … why did you attack us like this?”

  Before Sparky could say anything, the sound of heavy boots hitting the ground came from around the corner. The heavy footsteps were getting louder and louder, until soon a terrifyingly familiar figure stepped around the corner, a figure who Treehugger had hoped to never see again.

  The figure was tall, much taller than Sparky, to the point where his head nearly brushed against the ceiling of the dungeon. The figure was a Servant of the Starborn, wearing the same domed helmet and spiky armor that all Servants wore, but it also wore a long, red cape that distinguished it from its fellow Servants immediately. The Servant was at least twice as thick as Treehugger, its eyes looking at her, Blizzard, and Shell with deep satisfaction.

  “I see that the mission was successful,” said the Servant in perfect English. “Three superhumans. That’s quite an accomplishment.”

  “It was nothing, sir,” said Sparky, his voice the same as ever. “They trusted me too easily. It was not difficult to convince them to come with me, though I was unable to get all seven of them.”

  “That is fine,” said the Servant. “All that matters is that the Starborn receive the sacrifices they deserve.”

  “Sacrifices?” Blizzard repeated. “Sparky, what is going on here? And just who does this guy think he is, calling us ‘sacrifices’ like we’re a bunch of goats?”

  “Who am I?” said the Servant. He twisted his facial tentacles in a way that might have been his species’ poor attempts at a smile. “Why, I am Captain Takerious Ninda Omanx, Captain of the Incinerator and one of the top Servants of the Starborn.” He looked directly at Treehugger. “But, of course, this one already knows me, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah, I do,” said Treehugger. She shuddered. “I didn’t think I’d ever see your ugly mug again, though.”

  “Fate—which is ultimately decreed by the Starborn—has brought us together again,” said Omanx with a chuckle. “Isn’t it glorious? Indeed, the ways of the Starborn are quite mysterious. Don’t you agree, robot?”

  “Agreed, sir,” said Sparky. “But I do not consider myself qualified to discuss such issues. I seek only to please you and follow your orders.”

  “Quite right,” said Omanx. “And you did a good job, tricking these three into following you here, right into our hands.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Shell. His glasses had been knocked askew when he had fallen, though he seemed to be able to see just fine. “What about Space and Galaxy? Are they still here? What did you do with them?”

  “Nothing,” Omanx said. He gestured at the ceiling. “Those two idiots are still somewhere out there in the multiverse, though they can’t stop the coming of the Starborn regardless of what they do. No one can, for the power of the Starborn is truly beyond comprehension.”

  “But Sparky is here,” said Treehugger. “If you don’t have Space and Galaxy, then how did you get Sparky?”

  Omanx rested a hand on Sparky’s shoulder. “We stole him, naturally enough. Shortly after those two idiots rescued you in the Shadowlands, we attacked their ship again. As before, they managed to beat us off; however, we managed to take Sparky with us. He jumped through one of the portals we opened onto the ship, thinking he could destroy the Incinerator from the inside, but he ended up being overwhelmed by my men and then reprogrammed to serve us.”

  “What?” said Treehugger. She looked at Sparky. “Sparky, is that true?”

  Sparky nodded. “It is. I can even recall it, though it evokes no emotion in me. My loyalty now, after all, is to the Starborn. I see no reason to be upset about that.”

  “What a good
little robot,” said Omanx. “He doesn’t have even one traitorous bone in his whole body. That’s more than I can say for a few of my other minions, that’s for sure.”

  Treehugger couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She hoped this was all just some kind of horrible nightmare, but she knew that it was all too real.

  “Then … we were tricked?” said Blizzard.

  “Indeed,” said Omanx. “You see, our masters, the Starborn, desire to have a few superhumans brought directly to them. The loss of the tree girl over here made that difficult at first, but when we captured Sparky, I realized we could reprogram him and send him to Earth to ask you for ‘help.’ We reasoned that, since you were friends with Space and Galaxy, that you would do anything to help them, even trusting a robot you just met. It was a gamble, I admit, but a gamble that paid off in spades.”

  “Space and Galaxy were never in any trouble at all,” Sparky said. “They are still out there in the multiverse, though that is irrelevant, because you will likely not live long enough to see either of them again.”

  Treehugger didn’t know what to say. She stopped struggling against the tendrils, because it was pretty clear now that there was no way she would ever break free. She just lay there, feeling as stunned as if she had been slapped in the face.

  Shell also looked rather stunned, but Blizzard, on the other hand, looked angry. She couldn’t sit up, but Blizzard managed to glare up at Sparky and Omanx anyway.

  “You monsters,” said Blizzard. “I am going to turn both of you into icicles.”

  Blizzard made a face like she was focusing on her powers, but all of a sudden, her energy tendril glowed red and constricted around her. Blizzard yelped in pain and the tendril immediately went back to its normal coloration and size, though Blizzard now looked very exhausted, as if the tendril had drained energy from her.

  Omanx chuckled. “Foolish human, did you really think we would not have some way of negating your powers so you could not harm us or free yourself? Those tendrils were created by the Starborn specifically to capture superhumans such as you. They cannot be destroyed. You would have to have me or Sparky remove them, but the chances of us doing that are not very high, considering all of the trouble we went through to put these things on you in the first place.”