Two Percent Power (Book 2): Spilled Milk

by Brian Manning

  The driver did his best to scoot backward, attempting to back away through the door behind him. Horns honked and other drivers started shouting obscenities.

  “I’d say you only have a couple of minutes until the police show up. Now, are you going to spend that time answering my questions, or screaming in agony?” Patrick let the milk compress into a single long spike. The point reached the driver’s neck, pressing a small divot into his flesh.

  Patrick plucked the key from the truck’s ignition. “There’s another shipment on the way to the Watchtower,” he said.

  “What do you expect me to do about it?” Speetah asked.

  “You’re the only one that can reach it in time.”

  “So now you need our help? Screw you, Akiyama.”

  “Speetah, please. We can talk later, but I need your help.”

  There was a long pause. Police sirens sounded in the distance as they approached Patrick’s position.

  “Fine,” Speetah said. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “I don’t know how fast I can make that distance,” Patrick said.

  “Well then you better start now.”

  There was a moment of rushing wind in his ear, as Speetah took off before cutting her mic. The sirens got closer as the cops rounded the corner.

  “I have an appointment to get to, so my friends will take it from here.” Patrick gave a quick two-finger wave and nod.

  The driver, flex-cuffed to the steering wheel, returned the nod with a look of relief and a hint of concern in his eyes.

  Using the milk gauntlet still on his hand, he punched a pylon into the sidewalk, launching himself up, and lashing another tendril of milk from his other gauntlet to grab the edge of the roof. If Speetah stopped the truck, he would have to make it ten or twelve blocks to reach her. If she didn’t, there would be no way to stop it before it reached the Watchtower.

  “Broadband, I’m going to need a route to the truck.”

  “Plotting it out now,” he said. “Speetah has already chewed up most of the distance and should be reaching it by 42nd and Carter.”

  That would leave only eight blocks between the two of you. I think she’s getting faster. Patrick ran to the edge and jumped across the narrow gap between buildings and landed in a shoulder roll. He hadn’t been able to move like this across rooftops in far too long. Patrick kept his strides long but didn’t push himself too hard. With the distance he had to cover, it wasn’t a good idea to show up gasping for breath if he needed to fight.

  “She’s on top of the truck,” Broadband said. “Right where I said she would be. Crystal’s nothing if not reliable.”

  Patrick allowed a smile of pride and kept moving. A series of milk ramps, pylons and swing-lines let him maintain a consistent speed, reaching Speetah and the Brotherhood truck just as she dispatched the second occupant. Patrick landed in a crouch and made a show of dusting himself off, hoping to ease tension before the conversation started.

  Speetah glowered at him as he walked up. So much for the soft approach.

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve. You know that?” She jabbed his chest hard with her finger while staring down at him.

  Her full head height advantage made Patrick feel like he was already losing ground in the conversation before even saying his first word.

  “Moping around worrying about making the wrong calls and then when you run away, we’re the ones left holding the bag,” she said. “As far as I’m concerned, you haven’t made the right call since we took out the Visionaries.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair. I didn’t ask to be in charge,” Patrick said.

  “That tired excuse. You fall back on that like a beanbag chair every time we talk about this.”

  “I needed to step away. Clear my head and think about what we needed to do next.”

  “Exactly. What we needed to do next.” Speetah spat. “Don’t you think you could have at least passed that message along through your lackey, Troy?”

  “I’m still listening, guys,” Broadband said.

  Speetah pulled the earpiece out and stuffed it into her pocket.

  “After the bank robbery…” Patrick turned his head and looked down at the street.

  “What about it?” Speetah asked.

  “Nolan was about to…he could have been hurt, like Manny before. They could have killed him.”

  “He made a stupid decision, but we were there to save him. Just like Manny last year.” Speetah said.

  “Yeah, I should have been there for Nolan. I shouldn’t have let him wander off alone in the first place.”

  “We’re all here because this is important to each of us, too. We knew the risks going in. Without a committed leader, it’s a bunch of indecisive people doing their own thing. And you have a tendency to walk away when things don’t play out like they do in your little fantasy world.”

  Patrick pressed two fingers over his earpiece and held a hand up to Speetah.

  “How many did you say?” he asked Broadband.

  Speetah patted her pocket, looking for the communicator and bared her teeth in frustration. “What’s he saying?”

  Patrick held his hand up, still listening. “We have to regroup right now.”

  Speetah fumbled with the earpiece before getting it back into her ear.

  “We didn’t stop all the trucks. Not even close,” Patrick said. “There are already shipments arriving at the Watchtower. I don’t know when it happened, but Armageddon has already taken it over. We need to meet up with the others.”

  Speetah slowly shook her head at him. “This isn’t over. Not by a longshot.” She turned pushed off with one foot and headed back to join the rest of the team.

  Patrick looked into the cab of the truck and noticed the keys were still in the ignition. All four tires intact. How did she stop this thing?

  Clicking the seat belt into place, Patrick got the truck moving after several failed attempts. It had been years since he tried to drive a manual transmission vehicle.

  CHAPTER

  31

  The truck sputtered and stalled as Patrick pulled up in front of the gym entrance. He made sure the door was locked, and took the keys with him, so no one else could get their hands on the XGH shipment inside. Half of the team gathered in the main workout area.

  “Patrick! You’re back!” Graham clapped a hand on his shoulder and pulled him into a quick hug.

  Though no one expressed any ill will, Patrick could tell that his sudden departure and return weren’t well accepted. Sean let one corner of his mouth pull up a little and gave a short nod. The rest continued their conversations like he hadn’t even walked in the door.

  Crystal came down the stairs looked at Patrick and gave him what passed as a courtesy nod. Troy and Bryson followed behind. Most of the team wore their street clothes, but the few in costume had their gloves and masks off, relaxing as best they could. Patrick noticed a man sitting near the free weights on the bench.

  He leaned in to talk to Graham and Sean. “Is that Battlelord?”

  “Yeah. Cool, right?” Graham said.

  “What’s he doing here?” Patrick asked.

  “He left Armageddon after the prison break. He’s the one that gave us the locations of all the XGH distribution hubs.”

  Patrick’s eyebrows popped up. “He’s with us now? He turned face?”

  “Turned face? Is that more wrestling jargon?” Sean asked. “I’m going to guess that’s the opposite of turning heel.”

  “Bingo,” Graham said. “So far that’s what happened. He’s still got beef with the WWO, but not at the expense of innocent people’s lives.”

  Crystal stood in the middle of the room. “Stringfellow and Nolan should be here any minute, but I want to catch the rest of you up with what’s going on right now.”

  Manny brought a crutch over to Nathan and helped him walk over.

  “Most of you were here when Nathan showed up,” Crystal said. “His intentions weren’t known to us at the time, which is
why we sent you out of here. But we’ve talked things over, and we share a mutual interest.”

  “The enemy of my enemy, and all that,” Nathan said.

  Crystal gave him the vaguest of smiles and gestured for him to continue.

  He cleared his throat and leaned on the crutch. “I know you guys probably still don’t trust me. I don’t expect you to just yet, so I’ll do my best to defend every position from here on out.” He scratched an itch along his jaw and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

  “Warhead and Ground Zero are dangerous,” he said. “You don’t need me to tell you that. I’m just sorry it took me this long to take my blinders off and see it for myself.”

  Patrick watched the way Nathan stood, and thought about how the years of abuse tore his body apart. Not even a week ago, the Battlelord stood shoulder to shoulder with the Brotherhood of Armageddon. He was at the bank when the STF unleashed a fusillade of lead. The bullets pounded his body, but bounced away, leaving only a series of small red dots on his skin only days later. But now the Nathan Bell that stood before them was far different. The other side of a coin. A funhouse reflection of the previous version.

  As Nathan finished, Manny brought the chair over and let him sit back down. He fished something out of his pocket, mulling it over as Sean stepped in front of the team.

  “It hasn’t even been a year since we’ve dealt with a challenge like this,” Sean said. “A few of you may not have been a part of that, but in the past couple of weeks, some of you have already had a taste of what we’re facing. The Brotherhood of Armageddon is a threat, bigger than anything we’ve had to take on before. Their members aren’t in it for the money. They’re on board only for the chaos.”

  “And if that wasn’t bad enough, Warhead and Ground Zero have attacked a classified prison, designed to contain supers,” Crystal said. “Sight and the Visionaries were being held there. Now we find ourselves facing a familiar foe, one we almost didn’t overcome.”

  Abby said, “If we’re looking at numbers, we probably outnumber them capes to masks.”

  “Their fanatics more than makeup for that,” Bryson said.

  “We’ve got the cops on our side, right?” Abby asked.

  “They’ve got the XGH,” Nathan said. “We failed at cutting the supply line.”

  “And we’re not exactly operating at peak efficiency.” Crystal glanced over at Patrick.

  “You should say something,” Graham whispered to Patrick.

  He held a hand next to his mouth and whispered back, “I don’t think it’s the best time.”

  “Hey guys,” Troy said. “I know this is getting old, but this is something you’re going to want to see.”

  He looked back over his shoulder to make sure LCD on a portable rack was turned on. He swiped something on his laptop mirroring the content on the larger screen.

  Live feed showed Armageddon standing in front of the Watchtower. Most of Sight’s super-powered muscle stood to either side of the tag team. A large crowd of Brotherhood fanatics filled the background. Standing in between the two hulking wrestlers was a man dressed in a tailored suit. He wore sunglasses, and he had a neatly trimmed beard with his shiny hair slicked back. His Cheshire-cat grin beamed showing teeth too white to occur in nature without scientific aid.

  “Sight,” Patrick said.

  “Looks like the big show is about to start,” Graham added.

  “Take a look, everyone. You thought you saw the last of me and my Visionaries.” Sight gave a small shrug and said, “In a sense, you’re right. The Visionaries are no more. Standing before you now are two massive masters of miscreancy. Behind them, a small army of loyal soldiers they call the Brotherhood of Armageddon.

  “Every last one bigger, stronger, and faster than you can imagine. And now they have a true Visionary to guide them. A man with the intellect to engineer the annihilation of your paltry protagonists. Look at this building behind us. I’m sure it might be familiar to some of you when it was my Watchtower. Now, you can call it the Missile Silo, the new home of the Brotherhood.”

  Taking off his sunglasses, he stared into the camera and said, “You’re probably hoping to find a way to defeat us, but your wishbones are where your backbones should be. You’re wishing you could stop Armageddon, but your backbones just aren’t there.”

  Sight gave a smug grin and the two giants on either side of him moved to the front.

  Ground Zero’s voice rumbled, like bricks in a clothes dryer. “Ever since we got here, we been telling you what we were gonna do, and then we did everything we said! You little girls and boys never stopped us. You never even slowed us down. But now that we got Sight and his crew outta that summer camp for super villains, it’s checkmate for you chumps. There ain’t nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. All the cowards with capes in this city are gonna get found, and they’re gonna get stomped. Hey you! You fat, little mayor. You think you’re in charge here, but you’re sadly mistaken. Have all your stuff packed and gone when we get there. This city belongs to Armageddon!”

  Warhead spoke, perfectly timed, as if he was continuing Ground Zero’s thoughts. “So this is for all you superzeroes that came to your senses and want out of this fight. You got me an’ my brother’s word that no one is gonna hurt you if you leave town right now. But you better leave tonight, and you gotta crawl out of here on yer hands and knees, like the stinkin’ little sheep that you are. Do that, and you can keep all yer parts in their proper places.

  “This is a warning for the capes that are too stupid, or too brave, to leave now. It don’t make any difference why you stay. It’ll just be more bodies for us to break. And this offer don’t apply to that little punk turncoat, Battleloser. You stabbed us in the back, and you walked out on the Brotherhood. Now you’re marked, coward. Run to those poser heroes, if you want, or should I say limp to ‘em? Without yer dose, you’re just a used-up, crippled, Babylord.

  “It’s like my brother just said, it’s game over. Your cops are broken. Your heroes are down and out, and the mayor is askin’ mommy and daddy if he can have his old room back. GZ, tell these people what they should do tomorrow, when we claim these streets.”

  “Be somewhere else!” Ground Zero snatched the camera from the BoA camera operator. He hoisted the camera high into the air, the lens still filming his face, he let out a ferocious growl, smashing the camera into oblivion. The feed cut off, and the news reporters in the studio were frightened into momentary speechlessness.

  “Didn’t they just lock up Bull Dozer and Pulverati?” Sean asked. “Talk about a revolving door.”

  “Except for Deadeye and Jack Hammer, I think the whole cast returned for the sequel,” Graham said.

  “There’s no way we can manage those odds,” Stringfellow said.

  “We can’t just let them do what they please,” Patrick said. “The police will be out there fighting Armageddon no matter what we do. We need to support them and lend our strength.” He looked over to Crystal. “As a team.”

  She scoffed and turned her head.

  Abby stood next to Crystal. “He’s right. I know you’re still mad. So am I. That doesn’t change the fact that we can’t sit back and watch those freaks tear this city apart. We’ve got family here. Friends.”

  Genevieve looked at Stringfellow and then back at the rest of the group. “I don’t know about him, but I came here to stop Armageddon. I’ve seen what masks can do to a neighborhood. I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror if I didn’t step up now. Who’s with me?” She held her hand out, palm down.

  “She counts as at least five, so I’m in too,” Graham said, putting his hand on top of Genevieve’s. “That makes six of us.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” Abby said, placing her hand on top of his.

  One by one all of the other heroes pledged their support.

  Patrick put his hand on top of the pile. “Please let me make it up to you, guys.”

  Speetah put her hand in as well. “We can squash our
beef afterward. For now, the city needs us.”

  The group was caught off guard when Battlelord’s humongous hand draped over the rest.

  “I got one last match in me,” he said. “You can count on me from opening bell to closing bell.”

  Speetah and Sean stood on either side of the whiteboard. A crude map drawn in haste showed the Watchtower. All of the potentially troublesome intersections around the building were marked in red. They spent the last half hour plotting their separate courses, not wanting to risk showing up as a single large group. The team would rely on a stealthy approach, getting as close as they could to avoid a straight up brawl.

  “Nolan, we’ll make sure to bring enough water for you, since I’m pretty sure they drained this fountain a couple of months back.” Sean pointed to the location of the fountain H2Grow used to tip the scales in their favor during the big battle with the Visionaries.

  “I know we want to stay low key, but I think it would be beneficial to bring Manny’s van since we would be able to bring more water for Nolan,” Bryson said.

  Manny’s face brightened up. “I knew the old girl was going to grow on you.”

  “I’m just trying to be practical,” Bryson said. “Besides I don’t want all that water spilling in my back seat.”

  “Hey, where’s Patrick?” Nolan asked. “I was going to ask if he wanted to bring some extra milk in the van with us.”

  “He’s, uh, indisposed right now,” Graham said. “He chugged a pint of milk before taking out that XGH truck earlier.”

  “I don’t have to nuke that bathroom when he comes out do I?” Bryson asked.

  “I wouldn’t rule it out. Patrick tends to suffer abdominal cramps and nausea, so he’s probably in there puking his guts out right now.”

  “What did I get myself into,” Bryson mumbled wiping a hand across his forehead.