“Do you hear that?” Kill-O-What said. “It’s the sound of victory.” He closed his eyes and tilted his chin up.
The electricity drowned out every sound in the area, but it somehow amplified the mask’s own voice, sending it out as digitized over-auto-tuned speech. I thought Hair Devil’s bit was awful. The feeling came back to Black Paralysis’ hands, and he could feel his chi once again flowing through his arms.
“The Brotherhood of Armageddon has won. This city is—”
Over the rattle and intense buzz, Boost’s barbarian battle cry cut through as he hurled an office chair at the monologuing villain. The energy field sent out a shower of sparks, but the mass of the metal and fabric furniture continued on its path. The chair cracked against Kill-O-What’s forehead.
He opened his eyes trying to process where he was and what had just happened. Black Paralysis punched him in the face, driving a pulse of paralyzing energy into his body, immobilizing the super villain.
“Wow, can you believe Thunder and Lightning almost got taken out by a guy that uses thunder and lightning?” Boost asked.
Sean punched Kill-O-What again.
“Was he still moving?” Boost dropped back into a fighting stance.
“No, he’s just got that punchable face,” Black Paralysis said.
“That’s just mean.”
They upped their pace, jogging through a short series of hallways until they reached the main lobby.
“Elevator or stairs?” Boost asked.
Black Paralysis leaned to one side, looking down another hall to the side. He spotted Fear Mongrel, Hair Devil, and a group of fanatics standing over Speetah and Recurve.
“Crystal!” He ran down the side hall.
“BP, wait!” Boost shouted after him. He turned to join him when a commotion at the front entrance grabbed his attention. Armageddon stalked Patrick and Manerpillar. H2Grow was lying on the ground next to their van. He looked back and forth to the two groups of friends that needed his help. Boost made his decision and ran out the front to take on Armageddon and end this battle.
Pulverati unleashed pulse after pulse, each one missing. The three fanatics he hit earlier were unconscious, no longer able to help him corner Beat Boxer. The distracting red trails carved semi-permanent paths into his vision, even when he closed his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and mouth hung open.
The fast-moving hero landed in front of him and pressed him back against the wall with a hand on his chest. He opened his jaws wide to release another verbal assault, but she stuffed a balled up sweat moistened tank top into his mouth. He choked and gagged bending forward face-first into her foot as she backflipped away.
Strongwoman and the BoA super soldier were locked in the heat of their battle. Ringmaster’s telekinetic strength was too much for even the experimental growth hormone to overcome. With the fanatic on her last legs, Ringmaster landed a sloppy untrained punch packed with enough power to render her foe unconscious.
Bull Dozer’s hands were lashed to his sides by layer upon layer of hemp fibers, cutting deep dents into his dark brown flesh. Weed was on his back with her long legs wound around his thighs. Her arm wrapped around his neck, grabbing the bicep of her other arm, constricting the flow of blood to his brain in a textbook choke. Within seconds the beast-man was snoring.
“Let’s go,” Beat Boxer said, not wanting to waste any more time.
She kicked the emergency door open and headed back into the stairwell. The only sound was the footsteps of the three women moving up to the tenth floor.
They reached their destination and walked through the empty floor. No voices or sounds could be heard as they checked room after room. Weed, Beat Boxer, and Ringmaster each opened a door and headed in. Seconds later they all came out.
“I think we need to reevaluate our plan,” Beat Boxer said.
“Yeah, there is way more of this stuff in here than we imagined,” Ringmaster said.
“Uh…ditto,” Weed said.
Each of the rooms was filled, almost wall to wall and floor to ceiling, with cases of XGH. Armageddon had been bringing the shipments here as soon as they took the building over, and not just after the heroes hit their distribution hubs.
Beat Boxer called them over. “I’m talking about a different wrinkle in the plan.”
David and Kristen were bound to chairs in the corner of the darkened room. The team knew about Lock and Key, but nothing in the plans told them that they would be held captive in the Missile Silo. Abby checked her earpiece, finding that they had no signal to Broadband inside the Missile Silo.
She turned to the other two. “Scrap plan A, we need to get these two out of here.”
“Are we just leaving this stuff here then?” Weed said.
“I don’t think we have a choice. There’s no way to destroy their supply,” Ringmaster said. “Without setting the building on fire, that is.”
“The XGH isn’t our concern anymore. We’re going to have to get out of here, and regroup. Cut them loose, Genevieve.” Beat Boxer shook her head and motioned to the others to follow.
Ringmaster formed a telekinetic blade and cut the ropes around David and Kristen’s wrists.
Kristen scrambled away with a wild look in her eyes. “They’re going to kill mom. I have to stay. I have to stay here.”
“Her parents are being held captive,” David said, as soon as he was free of his bindings and ungagged. “We can’t leave until they’re safe.” He ran over to comfort Kristen.
Beat Boxer knelt next to Kristen, looking her in the eye. “Your parents are safe. Your mom asked us to bring you home.” The look in here eyes was sincere enough to cut through the young super’s fear and confusion.
“Should we grab a couple of boxes while we’re here?” Ringmaster asked.
“There’s no point,” Weed said.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t make a dent in their supply, and there’s nothing we can do with it.” Beat Boxer said. “We have to tell the others. Our only choice now is to roll out and attack that problem from a different angle.”
The three capes took their rescued prisoners and moved back down to the ground level. With the adrenaline pulling back, Beat Boxer and Weed were moving a bit slower, nursing injuries from their previous battle.
Battlelord was able to roll out of the way before Man-vil’s boot stomped his spine into powder. He rose to a kneeling position and slammed his forearm up between the villain’s legs, striking the cast iron crotch of the statue before him. Man-vil’s metal coating melted away, replaced by living flesh.
“You heroes always try that dirty fighting garbage,” he said.
He pulled Battlelord back to his feet and unload a pinging iron fist into the man’s jaw, sending him into the wall.
Striker stabbed the super soldier he fought in the throat with the blunt tip of his bokken. Trusting that the attack was enough to dispatch his foe, he pulled the weapon into a tight arc, raising it back over his head and sinking his body into a downward blow on the side of Man-vil’s neck.
The big man’s shoulder shrugged up, sending a wave of aching pain through his upper body. Before he could turn, Battlelord rebounded off of the wall and drove a stiff forearm strike into Man-vil’s head. He followed with a left hook and a straight right. His last punch clanged off of the iron statue that replaced his opponent.
“You still got a little pepper in you, old man.” Man-vil shifted back to his human form. He turned his body so he could see both Striker and Battlelord. “Bring it on!” He slammed iron fists on his iron chest, ringing out through the whole floor.
The smaller hero brought his weapon up again and tried to bring it down on the big mask’s head. Striker expected the man to shift into his statue form long enough for them to reposition and possibly confuse their opponent. Instead, he was stunned as Man-vil caught the bokken in his massive ham fist, transforming back into iron from forearm to fingertip, trapping the weapon.
Battlelord realized what Striker attempted and fei
nted with another powerful right hand. Man-vil let the ferrous form take over once again, but this time, no blow landed. Battlelord waited only a brief moment and hoped the timing of his left hook was perfect. His fist caught the flesh covered jawbone of the former statue, knocking the smug look off of his statuesque face. The villain’s jaw dislocated from the strike, and he was unconscious before his head hit the floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Striker said, tugging at his trapped bokken.
Even out cold, Man-vil’s right hand was still iron, clutching his weapon.
“Leave it,” Battlelord said. We need to meet the others upstairs.
A group of fanatic footsteps thudded down the hall as reinforcements rushed to meet the two heroes in battle. Striker pulled his shotgun and pointed it at the group. It was empty, but they didn’t know that, as they scrambled for cover. They also didn’t know that he usually kept it loaded with less-than-lethal bean bag rounds. The threat of buckshot was all they needed to make good their escape. For good measure, Striker dropped several smoke bombs to mask their movements further.
They stepped out into the stairwell and took a few steps up when Beat Boxer, Weed, and Ringmaster came down to meet them.
“Change of plans,” Beat Boxer said. “We’re headed out.” A man and young woman followed close behind them. Lock and Key.
Striker and Battlelord could see the rough state they were in and didn’t question her decision, just following instead.
CHAPTER
36
Black Paralysis moved down the hall as fast as he could without giving away the element of surprise. He reached the first of the fanatics, an XGH super soldier, and threw a roundhouse kick. His foot smacked into the muscular man’s ear, the impact bouncing his head against the wall and knocking several pictures to the ground.
All of the Brotherhood members, including the supers, turned to see the source of the commotion. Black Paralysis punched another man with a left hook, connecting hard in the ribs, targeting the liver. Two down in as many seconds.
Fear Mongrel stepped away from Recurve and shoved two fanatics to the side. He snarled as he approached the hero.
Reaching to his right, Recurve grabbed one of the pictures knocked off of the wall and slid it along the ground. He focused on the framed cardboard and glass as it slid around a sleeping BoA member before curving back around.
He increased the speed of the picture frame timing its speed to reach Fear Mongrel’s foot just as it came down. The dog man’s foot landed on the moving cardboard backer and shot out to one side as he crashed to the ground.
Hair Devil watched the action, hoping his partner would be able to dispatch the kung fu hero. It was the opening that Speetah needed to kick him away and break free of his grasp.
Fear Mongrel growled and stayed on all fours to close the distance with Black Paralysis. The hero parried a couple of attempted claw strikes and countered with a punch, targeting his foe’s elongated snout. He didn’t expect the creature to snag his hand out of the air with his powerful jaws.
Fear Mongrel’s teeth gouged into Black Paralysis’ wrist and forearm, and he let out a scream of pain. The hero clasped his hands together for leverage and twisted to turn his attacker’s head to the side. Fear Mongrel pulled back, keeping his teeth clamped down and tried to whip his head back and forth.
Black Paralysis clasped his free hand on the back of Fear Mongrel’s head to minimize the effect of the movement.
Recurve pulled his last throwing spike from his belt and scrambled up to his knees, slamming the point into the thigh of a distracted fanatic. The man screamed and clutched at his leg as Recurve pulled the point out and drove his loaded fist against the foot solider’s temple.
Speetah ran to help Black Paralysis and pounded at the weredog’s head and ears with repeated blows until he released his prey. Black Paralysis stumbled back, clutching at his injured arm. Fear Mongrel turned his attention to the new attacker.
Black Paralysis felt a lock of hair wrapping around his face and neck, jerking him back. He hit the ground and slid across the rough carpet. Hair Devil wrapped his opponent’s arms with two more clumps of hair, careful to stay away from the hero’s hands.
“Let’s see you use those powers now, loser.” Hair Devil cackled like a hyena.
Black Paralysis planted his hands in front of him, pulling Hair Devil forward. He rolled and lashed out with his foot during the flip, striking the villain’s jaw as he landed on his back. Hair Devil staggered away. His hair released Black Paralysis and whipped out to steady his body, keeping him upright.
Black Paralysis kicked his feet up and pushed off the ground leaping up into a standing position. The pain in his wrist was almost unbearable, but he was able to fight through it. He felt a surge as he let the chi flow into his fists. Like their last tangle, Black Paralysis knew his powers affected the villain’s living locks, just like they affected everyone else.
Fear Mongrel snapped at the air, trying to catch Speetah’s tail in his jaws. She kept her distance, only striking when the opening presented itself. She lashed out with kicks, and landed a few pounding strikes with her tail, but nothing seemed to slow the beast down. Once more he moved in, and once more she was forced to step back. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Recurve coming to help. Not wanting her opponent to spot him, Speetah stepped into range again, tempting the beast.
The creature reared his arm back, but before he slashed forward, Recurve leaped onto his back and stabbed the point of the solid steel throwing spike into the fur covered muscle of Fear Mongrel’s chest. The howl he emitted was ear splitting. The monster-man dropped to the floor and pulled the weapon from his body. His own pain and fear were now taking over. Speetah could see that he was shrinking down to his human form. All the fight had drained from the once formidable Fear Mongrel.
Black Paralysis pulled his opponent up by a handful of his ample hair, checking to see if he was out cold, or just faking it. Satisfied that it was the former, he dropped Hair Devil and turned back to Speetah and Recurve.
“Boost went to help Patrick take on Armageddon,” he said. “We need to get out there now.”
Manerpillar hit the van hard and rolled along the sidewalk. Ground Zero stepped into the punch that sent the hero flying and rendering him unconscious. No longer in control of his ability, the ectoplasmic form melted away and evaporated into a mist of fine strands, leaving Manny laying on the concrete.
Patrick’s rage took control. His pupils clouded over, and the world around him was in a haze. He unloaded his full liquid stores on the man that just fell the Mighty Manerpillar. No imagination, no creative construction, just a pure solid beam of milk shot forth and slammed Ground Zero back. The powerful villain hadn’t expected that much force to come his way, but the impact had almost no effect.
“So now you’re ready to throw down for real?” Ground Zero smiled and massaged a bit of stiffness out of his right shoulder.
Patrick could see both members of Armageddon converging on him. He didn’t have the strength to take out both men, but if he didn’t try, anything Armageddon did after today would be on him. He threw a sphere in Ground Zero’s direction and rushed Warhead. At the last moment, Patrick jumped, fired a beam into the concrete to launch himself over, and ended up behind them. He attempted to swipe the tree trunk legs out from underneath Warhead, but his tag team partner was already closing the gap.
Patrick cocooned himself in a dense milk capsule as the blow hit, hurling him across the concrete. This time, he compacted the white liquid enough to keep it all together when Ground Zero struck him. He unwrapped himself and prepared for another attack. Warhead rushed in, building up enough kinetic energy to distort the air in front of him.
Boost watched Warhead thundering ahead. Patrick dove to one side, avoiding the powerful shoulder ram. The villain’s attack pulverized part of a concrete support pillar attached to the building. He turned and prepared to rush again.
It was now or never
. Boost made his move and darted over to the mighty wrestler, wrapping him up from behind before he could start running. Warhead struggled to move, getting only one full step before stopping to deal with his new foe. He placed both of his massive hands on the much smaller arms encircling his waist and tried to thrust them apart to escape.
Nothing happened. Warhead tried again and noticed that his much smaller opponent was able to pull him backward. His eyes widened. He tried to turn to see who had him tied up. Boost matched each turn, maintaining his grip. He dropped his hips and hoisted the big man off his feet. Warhead hooked a foot behind one of Boost’s legs, and his feet fell back to the concrete.
Ever since his powers developed, Warhead had never faced anyone with the strength to match his, much less contain him. He fell back to his wrestling techniques, using textbook escapes, only to find himself back where he started. Boost’s wrestling skill kept him one step ahead in the grappling chess match.
Ground Zero tossed Patrick to the side again and stepped in to help his partner. His giant forearm thundered down onto Boost from behind.
The determined hero did everything he could to keep Warhead from gaining any momentum to use his ability, but the blow from Ground Zero nearly caused him to lose his grip. He staggered, then spun his trapped opponent around, putting a barrier between himself and Ground Zero. The move to buy time was a mistake, immediately capitalized on by the former pro wrestlers. Warhead jumped up, with no hesitation, kicking out. His feet struck Ground Zero directly in the chest. The supervillain used his ability to redirect strength of the kick to help propel his tag team partner backward with superhuman force. Now in motion, Warhead was able to create his own kinetic energy field once again. The Missile Launcher, Armageddon’s combined attack, was too much for Boost to withstand. He slammed backward into a concrete pillar. Warhead’s added bulk nearly took him through it entirely. Boost’s grip finally gave out, and his former captive tore free and turned to face him.
Two Percent Power (Book 2): Spilled Milk Page 23