by Drew Hayes
Nick patted his frozen friend on the shoulder. “I suppose we should get you in position. I know you can hear me right now, although I have no idea if you’ll remember any of this. If so, I just wanted to take the opportunity to tell you that you’ve been a great friend, and I’ll do all I can to watch over you out there.”
“Nick, seriously, you are freaking me out,” Camille said.
“Babe, you aren’t nearly as freaked as you should be,” Rich muttered under his breath.
“That's enough,” Nick snapped. “Complain afterwards. Right now, it’s time for action.”
* * *
Roy, Alice, Mary, and a somewhat downtrodden Alex huddled together near the edge of the tree line that faced the depository. The bright beam of red light surged from a metallic box in the center of a clearing all the way up to the ceiling. Mary could hear the thoughts of others drawing near, hiding themselves amongst the trees until some signal was given. It would be a mad dash for the box. Theoretically someone could easily go stand atop it now, but giving away one’s position would be suicide. Too many of their classmates had ranged abilities, and until an orb was deposited, it could still be stolen.
Mary heard the thoughts of an impending trio and prepared to get everyone in defensive formation, then realized there was no need. Nick, Camille, and a blindfolded Rich reached them a few minutes later, all but Nick looking some manner of peeved or disheveled.
“Where’s Vince?” Alex whispered. Theoretically no one was close enough to hear them, but with Amber in the mix, it was always better to play it safe.
“He ran off,” Camille whispered back. “Nick made Rich put some vision on him and he went darting off.”
“Rich’s visions immobilize people,” Alice reminded her.
“Only if he wants them to,” Nick corrected. His own tone was as loud as usual; he made no attempts to lower it. His eyes had dimmed as he appeared, going almost back to their normal boring color of brown. Finding the group had taken some luck, as had locating Rich and running into Vince. So far his luck had panned out, giving him the outcomes he was hoping for. There was still one last task to complete, and he was going to need every scrap of energy he had to pull it off.
“Okay, so where did you send Vince?” Mary asked, her tone curt. She was clearly getting tired of not knowing what was going on.
“Um, I think I can answer that one,” Roy said, pointing past a thick trunk they were using to stay hidden. The others followed the direction of his finger, and what met their gaze was not a sight any of them would have hoped to see.
Standing next to the depository, in full view of all the opponents watching and waiting, was Vince Reynolds. He should have been bracing for attack, instead he was staring down at the metal box as though it held the secret to eternal life.
“Nick, you had better come up with a real good explanation, and I mean now,” Mary threatened.
“I would, if only there were time. I’m afraid we should get moving. The show is about to start.”
182.
She was beyond bloody. Cuts ran across her fair skin, savage rips in her flesh that had been made by tooth and claw rather than something as precise as a scalpel. There was blood. There was so much blood. Vince wouldn’t have believed anyone could be alive after losing so much, but she was still moving, motioning him towards her as words desperately tried to escape her damaged throat. He moved in slowly, carefully brushing aside a tangle of dark curls. A few strands of pale blonde hair fell away. When he remembered this discontinuity, it would cause him many nights of sleeplessness as he tried to puzzle out its meaning. That would come later; right now, there was only her.
Her... and the wretched sound of growling from the shadows that surrounded them.
* * *
Team One rushed forward, they could already see some of their competitors edging into the clearing. If Vince registered movement from any source, it didn’t show on his face. His eyes were laser-focused on the depository, his lips moving slightly, as if he were engaged in a conversation with the metal box.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Mary asked yet again as they sprinted.
“The long and short of it is, I freed him,” Nick replied. He would have been slowed by having to lug along Rich, but thankfully Roy pitched in and helped heft the prisoner as they ran. “He won’t see any of us as human; he won’t even register what’s going on. He sees the box as something he’ll want to protect with his life, and he’ll see anyone coming toward it as something intent on harming it. Well, except us. He should register us as allies.”
“So, do you know what it is he’s seeing the box as?” Camille asked, using all the subtly as she could, which was clearly very little.
“Rich only conjures concepts. Vince’s mind will fill in the details. It’s more effective that way than if we tried to guess what would get his motor running.”
“Right, and why exactly is Rich helping us again?” Roy asked.
“I’m a powerful motivator.”
“Cryptic as that is, I don’t see the point in any of this,” Alice said, able to speak more easily since she was coasting through the air rather than dashing across the ground. “Why go to all the trouble? We could have tried to stop people from depositing their orbs without brain-jacking Vince.”
Nick and Mary exchanged a quick glance. They hadn’t told the others about her talk with Globe, and now sure as hell wasn’t the time to bring it up. Mary nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Nick took the cue.
“Call it a hunch. It’s no secret that Vince’s recently uncovered parental origin put him at risk to be cut from this program.” That actually came as a surprise to several members of the team; however, they stayed silent and allowed Nick to continue. “Vince’s biggest weakness has always been himself. His goodness. He’s afraid of hurting his opponents, so he holds back. Sometimes it’s on purpose, sometimes it’s unconsciously. Either way, he can’t afford it this time. If Vince is ever going to show those people watching how strong he really is, then this is the moment for it. All I did was try and set up a scenario with the greatest chance of him doing that.”
“Still seems like a lot of effort for a minimal change,” Alice remarked.
“Wait until you see the change before you assess how minimal it is,” Nick replied.
“I’m on board,” Roy said. “So do we go over and help?”
“No. Vince needs to hold the line up there by himself. What we need to do is hold back as many as we can so they don’t converge and overwhelm him,” Nick explained. “Alice will lay down gravity fields to pin the weaker or dumber ones. Roy, you bat cleanup and knock away what you’re able to. Alex and Mary will try and make sure none of the long-range people are able to land a shot on him. Camille will stay with me since I’m largely helpless and will be lugging along a hostage. As for my job, I’ll be laying down as much luck as I can to give him an edge.”
“If we do all of that then won’t we be stopping the others before they can get to Vince?” Roy pointed out.
“Not possible,” Mary told him. “There are too many opponents with too much strength. At best we can slow some of them down. The truly strong ones will get through regardless.”
“Precisely,” Nick agreed. That was, in truth, a calculated piece of his plan. Vince needed to show off, and he needed to do it against students with high rankings for it to matter. There was also another reason Nick only wanted the strongest of their class to make it to Vince. Nick had a very high opinion of what Vince could do when letting loose, yet Globe had specifically said that none of them had the true measure of Vince’s power. That had been a message for Nick, telling him that his estimates were off. He didn’t know that he quite believed the mysterious villain, but it would be folly to not take into account the possibility that he was right. That was the real reason Nick wanted to keep the weaker students away from Vince.
Because, if Globe was right, there was a very real risk that Vince might kill someone.
Ni
ck was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a loud horn being broadcast through the arena. All at once, the red light that had been shining down on the depository turned blue. The five minutes window had started. Game on.
* * *
“Vince...”
Her voice was a rasp, a whisper on the winds of impending death. She was so broken, so bloody, yet she reached up and carefully took his hand in her own. Her fingers were slick with blood, all of it her own.
“Vince... they’re coming back for me. Get away. Run.”
Something in his stomach twisted. A cold sensation he’d felt only once before began to seep through his brain. The world started dissolving. All his uncertainties, all his fears, all his concerns melted away from thought. All that remained was the girl. The girl, and the monsters that had done this to her.
From all around a hideous belting sound filled the air. The beasts in the shadows clacked their jaws together in hunger. Vince didn’t know what they were saying, but he understood that the sound had been a signal.
She pawed at him desperately. “They’re... coming.”
She was right; he could already hear their movements. They were drawing closer, but there was still some distance to cover. That was good. That gave him space to work in.
Vince leaned in and tenderly kissed her forehead, his mouth filling with the taste of copper.
“Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
He rose and faced the wall of shadows, out of which the twisted creatures had begun to emerge. They were coming all right, and coming fast. That was fine with Vince. Let them come. Let the bastards who had done this make the mistake of drawing close to him. He reached down within himself and felt the energy stored there.
Let them come. Vince was ready to show them what a true monster was.
183.
The explosion-like sound surprised all of the students, even those who had possessed some inkling of the hallucination occurring in Vince’s brain. In one moment he had been calmly muttering to a steel box, the top of which had twisted open at the sound of the horn. He’d risen slowly and purposefully taken several strides forward. His breathing was even, his eyes were focused, his body was taut with anticipation. It was evident he was calmly awaiting any challengers.
Then came the blast, a tremendous sound that was in fact a thunderclap from the bolt of electricity Vince hurled into the tree line where some of the students were emerging. That smoking ruin was less eye-catching than Vince himself - at least the Vince they could see once their eyes adjusted to sudden increase in light. Vince, or Vince as they knew him, was gone. In his place stood a wraith of fire, a human shape exuding continuous flames from his body. Columns of fire lanced the ground in front of him, creating a charred and burning landscape that would be treacherous even for most of these Supers to cross. Electricity crackled at his fingertips, dancing along his digits in a malicious foxtrot of anticipation. For most that was all they saw. For a poor few with gifts of vision, they were able to catch a glimpse of more. They could pierce the flames and see the face of the young man working to burn the world, and what lay on his visage was nothing that gave them comfort. Vince was not regretful, nor worried, nor fearful of what was to come.
Vince was eager. Furiously eager. He couldn’t wait for them to come closer. The fire was only the beginning. He wanted to show them the rest.
* * *
“Sweet fucking Christ,” Roy cursed, ducking instinctively at the loud sound and sudden burst of flame.
“I think that’s our cue,” Nick said, his eyes darting through the field of competitors to gauge their reactions. Most were surprised, some were afraid. A few were stalwart, but cautious. Nick noted the last group particularly. In the end that information wouldn’t make a large difference, but it might make a small one. “You all know what to do.”
“Kick ass until the bell sounds or we’re all knocked out,” Roy surmised, pulling himself back up and dashing off toward a cluster of opponents still recovering their wits.
“I do love his enthusiasm,” Nick remarked.
“He does have spunk,” Alex concurred. He and Mary darted toward Vince; they needed to be close enough to deflect things hurled at him while staying far enough away to avoid his sweeping flame attacks.
“Nick, is this really going to work?” Alice floated a few feet from him, almost close enough to touch. He took his time answering her, pretending to be mulling it over. In truth he already knew what he would say; he was taking this time to stare unabashedly at his blonde dorm mate. She was truly beautiful: he could finally admit that to himself. It wasn’t just the golden hair, the stunning body, or the wide blue-eyes. It was her tenacity. Alice had turned from a spoiled princess into a determined warrior, and she’d done it mostly through her own gumption and relentlessness. He admired that. He adored that.
He was going to miss that.
“It will work,” he assured her at last. “At least, if we all do our best, it has a hell of a good shot. That’s all any of us can really hope for.”
Alice nodded her understanding. “I’ll try to keep my gravity fields off you, but I can’t make promises when dealing with this many people in this big of an area. Watch the grass; if it’s bending back on itself, stay clear of that area.” With that, she rose into the air and darted toward the center of the clearing. She would be a sitting duck, but Nick had a feeling most of the people who could bring her down would have their attention focused on Vince.
“Nice speech,” Camille said. They were alone now, save for Rich, who seemed to have decided long ago that silence was his ally in this precarious situation.
“Thank you.”
“One thing I can’t help but notice: you’ve put Vince in a situation where he is using lethal force without hesitation. Don’t you think that might put a damper on his chances of advancing, seeing as it’s an immediate disqualification?”
“It certainly would, were he doing it by choice. But when a man stabs someone, you don’t arrest the knife. That would be senseless. No, all the blame here lies not on the instrument of force, but on the man wielding it.”
“I reached the same conclusion,” Camille admitted softly. “You know, you’re a pretty terrible person.”
“You’re not the first to accuse me of such.”
“I didn’t imagine I would be. Still, in spite of that, or maybe because of it, you’re also a really good friend.”
“On that account,” Nick sighed, “I am nearly certain you are the first to utter such words. Now shush, the other teams have nearly reached our defenders. Once they do, we’ll be in for one heck of a show.”
* * *
The observation room, previously filled only with softly whispered comments and observations, was now erupting into a din of noise as the situation below unfolded. Dean Blaine kept his cool; he had seen situations far worse than this one during his long career as a Hero and educator. That said, he also recognized the beginnings of first-class shitstorm when he saw them.
“That boy really put his dick in the beehive now,” muttered Professor Cole from under her cloth wraps. Dean Blaine was inclined to agree, however he kept that particular thought to himself.
“Now, everyone, please settle down. We’re all experienced combatants here; the concept of ‘shock and awe’ is not one that should be new to any of us. What Mr. Reynolds is doing, while unexpected, is a perfectly acceptable tactic in trying to drive off enemy forces.”
“And what are we going to do if it escalates beyond just a show?” Professor Hill asked.
“We’re going to keep the students safe, as we always have,” Dean Blaine replied. “In order to do that we need to keep a close watch on them, however. So I would appreciate it if we could cut the chatter and keep focused on the matter at hand.”
With that, the assembled individuals turned their attention back to the screens.
The sight that greeted them was pure chaos.
184.
Many of the stu
dents would one day look back at this day, their final match of sophomore year, as the moment when they finally understood what it was they were aspiring toward. The matches they’d had previously, while difficult, had been controlled by their very nature. There were always safeguards, always rules, always a set number of variables to be accounted for. In the last five minutes of their match, none of that was true. It was their first taste of true battle. There was no order, no simple objectives. There was only chaos, and fear, and violence.
And fire. All of them would remember that quite clearly. There was so very much fire.
* * *
Sasha held back until the first wave of people crashed together, Roy in the center smacking away bodies like yappy dogs at his feet. She waited because she was smart, because she knew the real action was up at the area marked by the blue beam, with her ex-boyfriend impersonating a bonfire just in front of it. Sasha didn’t know what was going on with him, but it didn’t matter. Chad had their orb; all she needed to do was intercept any other team’s depositor who looked like they might get past Vince. She needed to reposition herself, so once the initial fray began she took off from her hiding place.
Sasha was only running for a couple of seconds when she felt her legs give out from under her. She crashed heavily to the ground, the pain slapping across her body far worse than it should have been from a mere fall. She was tough, she was a speeder; she didn’t get hurt from simple tumbles. With great effort she pulled herself up onto her elbows, only to fall right back down. It was insane; it was like something was pulling her down, like her body weighed hundreds of pounds. Remembering her team’s match with Team One, she searched her limited field of vision for Mary, certain she was the cause of her sudden immobility. There was no sign of her, not that it would have mattered if there had been. Sasha’s real problem, and the problem of many students similarly sprawled across the ground, was floating twenty feet overhead, fist clenched in concentration.