Fire and Thunder

by Bowen Greenwood

  That made it easy to miss the young man until he walked right alongside her.

  Once she did, there could be no mistaking him for someone from the AAA. Even if black fatigues and a black tank top weren’t the Legion’s uniform of choice, the tank top was laughably casual for a government agent.

  He wore it well, though. A powerful chest made the tank top look good, and his lanky frame helped the fatigues look casual and competent at the same time. Something sad lingered around his brown eyes.

  When she recognized him, she at once caught her breath and backed away.

  “You’re that guy from this morning! The one who threw fire!”

  He nodded and held his hands out to his side.

  “I am, but I’m not here to hurt you. I’m looking for someone else entirely. As for you, I just want to give you back your phone.”

  His smooth, deep voice calmed the waters of her budding fear. Baritone confidence undergirded every word. If lions purred like housecats, Terri imagined it would sound like he did.

  But scientific evidence of nuclear material in the city, combined with a prophecy of millions dying in fire, loomed larger in her mind than his looks and his voice.

  “Things got awful violent this morning for someone who just wants to talk.”

  He sighed, shrugged, looked down, and then looked back up. “I shouldn’t… I mean, I kind of got out of control there. Those other two guys — the one with me and the one you left with — they have a history. I was only involved because…

  “Look, it’s complicated. All I meant to do right now was see if someone else came with you. You haven’t seen a big guy — big like muscular and a belly, not really all that tall — with brown hair, have you? Goes by Pitch?”

  He looked a year or two older than Pitch, Connor, and Anna – almost her own age. Something about his eyes made her want to believe him when he said he meant her no harm and the fight this morning wasn’t his fault. But his questions made it obvious he was looking for the same young man who had shown her around the Sons of Thunder’s base a couple hours ago. She didn’t want to admit to that just yet.

  She said nothing but perhaps her face gave something away. Whatever the reason, the guy stopped trying to hand her the phone and instead waved toward the nearby coffee shop.

  “Let me buy you a cup of coffee,” he offered.

  She told herself she was just doing her job — just learning about someone who could be a threat to the city. She told herself the voice and the eyes had nothing to do with it. She followed him into the little cafe.

  The smell of dark roast freshly ground made her stomach rumble — she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She took a table while the mysterious young man went to the counter. Off to her left, a tourist paged through a guide to Las Vegas. Through the window to her right, she watched cars outside stopping and starting erratically as they struggled through traffic on the wide thoroughfare.

  He set a cup of coffee in front of her. Terri reminded herself that, while he might be a nice looking guy who brought her coffee, this man was also probably a walking atomic bomb.

  “I’m Drake,” he said as he eased into the chair across from her. “Nice to meet you – more formally this time.”

  She smiled at him, and then looked away to the side. “Terri Jackson. Do you want to tell me what happened this morning?”

  “Well, since you disappeared with Connor and that girl, I’m guessing you’ve already heard about ‘abnormal abilities,’ as the feds call them.”

  She nodded but didn’t go into any more detail. As she had with Connor and the Sons of Thunder, Terri wanted to see how much she could learn by hiding the true extent of her knowledge.

  “This morning all revolves around people with those abilities, and some conflict between them. Sebastian – the guy who was with me this morning – he’s really angry at Connor. Insanely angry. Sebastian has some worthwhile ideas – like gathering people with powers together so we can help each other. But he’s a very angry man. I haven’t found out yet what Sebastian went through while he was a government prisoner, but it had to be bad because his every action is colored by the desire to get back at them, to get back at their agents, and more. He’s willing to do anything for those goals.”

  Drake paused. He sighed deeply and stared into the distance.

  “Anything,” he repeated.

  It took a while before he went on with the story.

  “So Sebastian really likes my power. The ability to throw fire is pretty useful in violent revenge. He ordered me to come with him this morning and to use my power to attack Connor. We were actually looking for someone else – someone who didn’t show. But… It’s hard to explain. I just got caught up. I guess I shouldn’t have gone after Connor. There’s nothing between him and me. Not him.”

  “That’s your power? The throwing fire?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry I almost hit you this morning. Like I said, I… I don’t know. I’ve been going through a tough time lately.”

  “Does your power do anything else?”

  “Anything else besides throw fire? That’s usually enough for most people to run away. People who don’t have power themselves usually freak out when I accidentally have a three-foot jet of flame shoot out from my hand.”

  “But you’re not afraid that it might ever do more than just shoot fire?”

  He looked at her crossways and crinkled up his nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “Like… Like, I don’t know. The fire getting hotter and hotter the more you do it?”

  “No. Nothing like that. I know exactly how it works. I always have for as long as it’s been happening, which is about a year. Why?”

  Now, it was Terri’s turn to shrug. “It’s just…kind of bizarre, you know? Ever since this morning I keep hearing about all these powers.”

  Again, her mental image of herself was of a woman dipping her toe into the pool of deception, without quite getting in. She didn’t like lying, but her job was to learn about a potential person with a nuclear abnormal ability. Drake jumped right to the front of the line the moment she saw him. Everything she’d seen or heard since only made him seem more like the suspect.

  Everything until now. His own description of his power sounded nothing like her theory that maybe he might graduate from throwing fire to an atomic fireball. Maybe she was wrong about him.

  Drake cut into her thoughts. “I guess Connor and his friends must have told you a lot, huh?”

  “They did. What is it about him that made you so angry this morning?”

  “It wasn’t really him.”

  “Not him? Who?”

  Drake took a long time to answer. Those eyes that Terri liked so much stared past her and through her, beyond the horizon into a past only he could see.

  “I… I don’t know if I’m ready to tell some stranger yet. I have a good reason to be angry, trust me. Sebastian says the guy from this morning… Forget it. I shouldn’t have let him talk me into that fight. My quarrel’s not with Connor.”

  She reached out and placed her hand over his. “I see I touched a sore spot.”

  At once she regretted it and pulled back. It was one thing to let these people with powers think she was uninvolved. But letting any kind of bond develop was the stupidest thing she could imagine.

  Drake acted like he never even noticed her touch. He said, “Sebastian and his war with the government – it has consequences. People get hurt and not just like Connor this morning. People have died.”

  He paused, and then added, “Anyway, this morning has to do with the same thing. Conflict among people with powers. There’s a guy… Well, if people have died, it’s only natural that someone has killed. And we were expecting that particular someone to show up this morning. Don’t ask me why we expected it; you probably wouldn’t believe it. But anyway, we didn’t find the guy we expected. Instead, we found Connor. That happened. It got out of control. Blah, blah, blah…

  “Anyway, then the Legion le
ft me to wait until you came back and see if the boy we were looking for came with you.”

  “OK, so here I am,” she said. “Any sign of him?”

  Pitch picked that moment to walk through the coffee shop door.

  Chapter 12

  Connor leaned into the turn to take the corner hard, and then eased off the gas as he rolled into the abandoned parking structure. He let the bike glide to a stop, and his eyes adjusted to the transition between bright sun outside and shade in the garage.

  That was when he saw Sebastian.

  He was holding Anna, gripping her wrists behind her back.

  Connor didn’t ask himself how Anna had gotten there or why she was with Sebastian. He just saw his friend in danger.

  At once, he left bike right in the middle of the driving lane. He jabbed his foot down on the kick stand, killing the engine. Before Kila could even finish removing her arms from around him, he leapt off the bike, tearing at his helmet’s straps. He hung his helmet on the handlebars and marched forward grimly.

  “You take your hands off her!”

  Sebastian laughed.

  “I recognized her from this morning,” the black-clad young man replied. “I said to myself, ‘Grabbing her will pay off.’ Now look: here you are. I was right again. I’ve been waiting for this, Connor. We have a score to settle.”

  “Let her go!”

  The other boy laughed again. “You bet,” he said. And without another word, he disappeared.

  Connor’s thoughts flew from idea to idea. He thought he had the key to this fight: know Sebastian well. Know how he fought. Know from which direction he liked to attack. Know whether he preferred kicking or punching.

  Trouble was, with Anna in danger, he couldn’t keep his mind on any of that.

  Connor ran to her. She removed her hands from behind her back; Sebastian wasn’t there any more to hold her. But just as she reached for him, she shouted, “Behind you!”

  Connor pitched forward, barely managing to turn slightly to the side before his face slapped the concrete. Instead, he took the fall on his shoulder, which hurt bad enough. He rolled to his back just in time for Sebastian to kick him hard right in the muscle of his thigh. Even so, Connor managed to bounce up to his feet; however, as soon as he did, Sebastian disappeared again.

  “Come out and fight like a man!”

  Sebastian flashed into visibility in front of him, and Connor threw a front kick as fast as he could. But the leader of the Legion shuffled away and disappeared again.

  Connor whirled, thinking he might attack from behind. But there was nothing. He whipped his head to the left and to the right, scanning for his opponent. Then a scream turned him around, back toward his motorcycle.

  Sebastian stood behind Kila, his forearm around her throat. She thrashed in his grip, futilely trying to get her fingers around his arm.

  “Know what your problem is, Connor? You can’t focus on what’s important. You’re too busy worrying about the members of your team, when you should focus on the fight.”

  Connor felt anger boiling up in him. Rather than reply, he raced at Sebastian.

  But the other boy disappeared too fast.

  Connor stopped in place with his fist drawn back and ready to punch. He turned frantically in all directions, looking for his opponent.

  Sebastian appeared in front of him. Connor threw a punch, but it was poorly aimed because he threw it so fast. He struck a glancing blow to the strong bones of Sebastian’s chest. The man in the black tank top delivered a roundhouse kick to Connor’s ribs, and then vanished again.

  Connor tried to assess what he knew. Sebastian liked attacking from behind. He liked the choke hold. He’d come up on Connor that way before and he had done it to Kila just a second ago. Knowing him had to be the key to fighting him. It had to.

  Without another thought, Connor threw a heel kick behind himself.

  He hit nothing but air.

  Grimacing, he shuffled to the right in case Sebastian was lining him up where he stood.

  “Your left, Connor! To your left!”

  He blinked, confused. The voice was Kila’s, but why would she—

  A fist collided with his jaw.

  Connor saw stars, weaved where he stood, and then crumpled to the concrete, unconscious.

  ***

  “Murderer!”

  A woman Pitch recognized from that morning stared with a look of horror on her face as Drake threw their little table over, spilling coffee and scattering napkins. Other patrons around them gasped and backed away as he catapulted up to his feet.

  Pitch’s eyes went wide, and he backed up a step.

  “Drake? Drake Tesla?”

  The only response was a river of fire. Drake held his hands together in front of him, outstretched. A long line of flame flowed out from them, straight at Pitch’s head.

  Coffee shop patrons screamed and called out warnings. Pitch dove for the floor just before the fire reached him. The flames licked the glass of the door like some kind of bizarre fireplace.

  “Drake! Don’t!” Terri shouted, getting up from her chair. But her words had no effect. Another fireball flew at Pitch.

  An empty chair hurdled off the floor of its own accord as Pitch flicked his wrist in that direction. The chair intercepted the fireball. It burst into flame.

  The customers in the shop rampaged toward the doors, and Pitch fought not to be pushed down and trodden underneath them. Screaming and chaos took over the atmosphere as a third ball of flame arced through the air at Pitch’s place on the floor. He rolled to the right, causing the last couple of fleeing customers to leap over him. Then he rose to his feet.

  Around him, the curtains and napkins of the coffee shop burned hot, filling the air with acrid smoke. Ms. Jackson threw her arms around Drake from behind him, shouting, “Don’t do this!”

  Pitch gave the same advice. “Drake, I don’t want—”

  It was no use. Rage filled the eyes of the young man in black. His lips twisted into a snarl as he spat out Pitch’s name. Then he pulled out of Jackson’s grip and attacked with another stream of fire.

  Pitch moved another table with his mind, holding it in midair to block the flames until the edges of the wood top began to smoke. Drake changed tactics and hit the ceiling directly above the Son of Thunder with a fireball. The blazing orb smacked into one of the cheap hanging lights. The plastic holding it in place melted. It plummeted toward Pitch, who flung it to the side telekinetically.

  Pitch caught sight of a big bag of ground coffee behind the counter and reached out with his mind to hurl it across the room at Drake’s head. He figured it wasn’t hard enough to do serious damage but heavy enough to make a difference. He didn’t want to hurt Drake. Not any worse than he already had.

  Drake took the blow to the face and cursed in anger. He flung another fireball at Pitch, who slipped to the side to dodge it.

  That’s when they heard the sirens. Someone who had fled when their fight broke out must have called the cops.

  Through the smoke filling the coffee shop, the red and blue lights of law enforcement flashed outside. The glass front door of the coffee shop smashed open, and SWAT officers in black fatigues charged in. AAA was displayed in big bold yellow letters on the chests of their uniforms. Some of them aimed shotguns and rifles at him. Others grabbed him and threw him to the floor. They held his hands behind him to be cuffed.

  Across the room, Pitch saw Drake take advantage of the smoke and fire to slip out without being seen — at least, not by anyone but Terri Jackson, who followed him.

  Pitch thought about resisting the agents. He could pick up every officer at once and throw them back out the door with his mind. But he wouldn’t, not after he had walked in here and had seen the look on Drake’s face.

  That took him back too strongly to his worst hour at the Legion. It reminded him of the darkest places his power could lead when it wasn’t checked by conscience. He could never forget the night that made Drake hate him so m
uch, and he never wanted to have another one like it. So he let the federal agents cuff him.

  ***

  Sebastian Crest nursed his right hand, rubbing the knuckles and sucking on a scrape. He’d hit Connor as hard as he knew how, and it had left almost as much a mark on his fist as it had left on the man.

  Almost. He savored the pain.

  He didn’t even care that the girl who could teleport had saved Connor yet again. How sweet to see him keep running away! How sweet to win every fight they had. Connor deserved every punch he took for betraying the Legion and bringing the government down on them. It was Connor’s fault they’d lost their base in the desert outside Las Vegas. He’d probably been working with the government all along.

  Now, Sebastian thought, Connor had paid the price for that. Or at least he began to pay. One KO couldn’t settle the score, but it worked as a down payment.

  He took a break from savoring the victory to consider what he had learned. Kila was with Connor now. So was the mystery girl who could teleport. In all likelihood, Pitch must be with him, too.

  Connor, apparently, intended to create a counterpart to the Legion. That was not something Sebastian could allow. Disunity. Division. He had worked too hard, invested too much in the Legion. They were poised to strike against the government now. They grew stronger every day, with new recruits with new powers. The time was at hand to strike a real blow in their war against the government.

  An alternative group would weaken that. Sebastian could not let Connor get away with that.

  So he’d gotten away this time. No big deal. Sebastian had proven something today — proven it twice. He could beat Connor. He could beat him without even trying that hard.

  He watched the chaos in the distance as the AAA raided the coffee shop where he’d stationed Drake. The fact that the place was on fire gave him a strong hint as to what had brought the federal agents. Drake had been walking on a razor’s edge for months, ever since Hope had died. Some days, he was fine, but the anger always lurked just below the surface. On days when it came out — well, the black smoke rising from the burning cafe told that story better than Sebastian could.