Two Percent Power (Book 2): Spilled Milk

by Brian Manning

  Years of working together honed Armageddon’s teamwork and communication during matches to near-psychic levels. One on one, either of the wrestlers would be a formidable match, but together, they were almost unbeatable. Warhead fired a meaty fist at Boost’s head, who barely brought his arms up to cushion most of the blow. This defense left him open to Ground Zero’s punishing stomping kick to his stomach. He doubled over, nearly unconscious, and felt the brute pulling him forward.

  Patrick picked himself up, feeling his “grip” on the milk fading. He was losing his strength from the repeated damage he sustained. He watched Boost attempting to take on both members of the dominant tag team. Ground Zero doubled him over with a kick and pulled him forward.

  The wrestler scooped Boost up and pulled him up with his legs draped over the big man’s shoulder. Warhead turned to face his partner and raised his own hands up as if he were also holding someone in the same position. Patrick’s heart dropped into his stomach as he recognized the setup. The Atomic Power Bomb. The same technique Armageddon used to hospitalize their opponents in the WWO when their powers had first manifested.

  Ground Zero held Boost aloft for a second, and then hurled him downward. Warhead threw his hands down as well as he “caught” Boost’s shoulders on the descent, adding his superhuman strength to the attack.

  As his friend hit the ground, Patrick felt the shockwave a split second before debris from the chipped concrete peppered Patrick’s exposed face. Boost’s body was laying in a crater from the signature slam. Patrick didn’t know how serious the injury was, but there was no doubt that they had to get him out of there.

  Warhead reached down and picked Boost up by a handful of his jacket. He wrapped a couple of fingers around the goggles around the hero’s neck and plucked them off, snapping the strap. A trophy from their latest victim.

  The thundering roar of a muscle car’s engine pulled Armageddon and Patrick’s attention to the street. Striker yanked the wheel and pulled his car to a stop in front of the building. He stepped out and pulled his short barreled shotgun as he moved to stand with Patrick.

  “We need to get out of here,” Patrick said.

  “That’s what I came here to tell you,” Striker said. “The original plan to cut off the XGH supply isn’t going to work.”

  Warhead and Ground Zero smiled.

  “More pigs to the slaughter,” Ground Zero said.

  Warhead dropped Boost and raised a foot to stomp him.

  “No!” Patrick ran forward to stop the attack, but even he knew he was too far away to do anything.

  Warhead’s leg came down, but before his foot made contact, The Battlelord, Nathan Bell, drove his shoulder into the villain’s leg, deflecting the stomp. Nathan hit the ground and rolled to a stop before standing back up. Warhead staggered a bit before regaining his balance and seeing who attacked him.

  “The Brittlelord returns,” he said.

  “Doesn’t matter how many of you losers show up, we’re still gonna put you down like dogs,” Ground Zero said.

  Boost’s body was ensnared by dozens of beige tendrils and pulled away. Weed lifted him up to seated position, and Black Paralysis helped lift him onto Speetah’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  “Everyone, get out of here!” Patrick yelled to the others.

  Armageddon looked around at the various groups of heroes now surrounding them.

  Striker hurled a handful of smoke bombs. Beat Boxer rolled one of the smoke canisters from the Brotherhood’s armory at the feet of the wrestlers. The giants, silhouetted in the plumes of smoke did their best to get clear and get eyes on the heroes again.

  Speetah took Boost to Striker’s car while Patrick got Manny into the van. Black Paralysis reached them and loaded H2Grow in as well. Ringmaster drove by in one of the delivery trucks from the parking garage, with David and Kristen in the back. The heroes all took off, heading for the team headquarters using the chaos to cover their escape.

  Beat Boxer and Weed pulled themselves up to nearby rooftops. Recurve hopped in the driver seat of Manny’s van. He took off as soon as everyone was loaded inside, and clear of the conflict. Striker peeled out, heading the opposite direction.

  Sight sat at his desk watching the battle with Armageddon playing out. Tension stayed nearby, just in case any of the action spilled up into the higher floors. Warhead and Ground Zero were an impressive team, utilizing their powers to compliment each other. The heroes were no match for their strength, and the Brotherhood of Armageddon tipped the scales even further in their favor.

  More capes spilled out to join the fracas. The team’s powerhouse, Boost, tried to stop Warhead. He was too strong for even the toughest of Sight’s Visionaries, but against the villainous tag team, even he was flattened in seconds. Sight’s smile grew wide, watching as the meddling heroes that put him behind bars were about to be shut down for good.

  “They’re running?” Sight asked no one in particular. “No matter. It’s clear now that they are no match for the Brotherhood of Armageddon.”

  Sight released his view of the battlefield and smoothed his hair back, making sure the ponytail was still secure. Those heroes had the nerve to attack at dawn but were still no match for the Brotherhood of Armageddon. Imagine what they’ll do when we face them fully prepared.

  Moments later one of the fanatics, a former Visionary, entered. “Sir, they got the hostages.”

  He looked at the messenger, unclear of the message.

  “Lock and Key. The heroes broke them out.”

  “Thank you.” Sight nodded and waved the man away. The news was a setback, but more for Armageddon’s plans than his own. He saw potential in the young woman’s gifts, but she had already completed her task. Losing her wouldn’t be too troublesome in the long run.

  CHAPTER

  37

  The team hung around the emergency room lobby, waiting for news about Graham’s condition. It had been hours since they got him to the hospital, and the last thing they heard from Patrick was that he was now conscious, but still dazed. Manny and Nolan had already been checked and released with only minor injuries. Stringfellow and Bryson, took them to make sure they were able to get some rest, and then headed home themselves. Juliana made sure that Kristen made it back to her family, along with David.

  Troy met the others and sat with Abby in the corner. Sean watched live streaming news on his phone while the others took turns pacing the floor, or repositioning in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. The police arrived at the Missile Silo shortly after the heroes escaped, but the standoff was almost a repeat of what happened at the bank.

  With more masks in the lineup, the Supers Task Force was once again outmatched by a large margin and had to retreat. Unable to break through and storm the building the police presence was pulled back block by block until they established an unofficial demilitarized zone.

  Sean watched Crystal pace the floor once more before walking out the ER entrance. He looked around and noticed the others were too preoccupied to notice. He slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his gloves and went to follow her.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She turned around and looked back at him. After a second she just shook her head and walked away.

  “Wait.” Sean jogged to catch up then walked next to her. “Boost is awake now. He’s going to be ok.”

  “I know.” She kept her head down. “But I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand around and watch all of my friends get hurt like this.”

  “We need you,” he said. After a few more steps he added. “I need you.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. Her eyes were red. “Don’t do this now, Sean.”

  “I—You can’t leave us now. Armageddon is too strong for us to take on without you.”

  “Unless things have changed in the last few hours, they’re too strong for us with me,” she said. “Patrick isn’t able to wrap his head around the fact that we’re capable of handling ourselves. Every
other member of the team seems to run things their own way. No one is on the same page.”

  “You know that’s not fair,” Sean said. “The plan to rush the Watchtower was put together at the last minute. None of us knew what to expect in that raid.”

  “We should have seen that this was too big for us to handle. I should have seen it. And look how it all turned out.” She pointed to the hospital where the rest of the team waited.

  “Why can’t you stick around, and help bring everything together? We can create a plan that makes more sense. Something that uses all of our strengths.”

  “We’re not battlefield tacticians,” she said, almost growling. “Let the police handle this. It’s what they’re paid to do.”

  “It’s too big already. We’ve got to stop the Brotherhood of Armageddon.”

  “That’s why I have to leave. I need to step away,” Crystal said. “Please promise me you’ll do the same. This is a different league than we’ve ever played in. We got lucky with the Visionaries.”

  Sean didn’t answer. He wiped at his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose with his lips pressed together. She pulled him into a hug. He returned the gesture, as they held each other for what felt like days in her mind.

  “Don’t let the team unravel.” She stood back at arm’s length from him now. “Someone is going to get killed if you guys don’t start listening to each other.”

  Sean nodded. “Be careful.”

  “Take care of Graham for me,” Crystal said.

  She pulled her tail over her shoulder and ran her hands down the length, the way she always did when she was nervous or uneasy. He stood and watched her walk away until she disappeared around the corner. The sun had just started dropping below the horizon. Sean had a hard time believing that everything that just happened all took place from sunrise to sunset.

  He pulled the sleeve of his jacket back and examined the bruised flesh of his wrist, where Fear Mongrel had tried to tear his arm away with his teeth. The pain was a deep, dull ache now, but making a fist still hurt. He turned his head and looked back at the hospital where the rest of his friends waited.

  The decision to head back, or follow in Crystal’s footsteps and take some time away, weighed in his mind. In times like this, he always had someone he could turn to. Someone he spoke with that always told him everything he needed to hear. Not always what he wanted to hear, though. Sean pulled the phone out of his pocket and pulled up the favorites in his contact list. He found the entry and pressed the screen.

  He took a seat on the curb and held the phone to his ear until the voice on the other end picked up.

  “Dad?” He listened to his father’s once soothing voice, now filled with concern. “Yeah I’m fine. Everyone’s ok.”

  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “I need to come home…for a little while at least.”

  Graham was out of the hospital and back home. Patrick sat with him eating the takeout food his friend requested. The injuries he received would have killed anyone else on the team, but once he regained consciousness, his body started healing at a rate that even astonished those familiar with supers.

  “They know me there,” Graham said.

  “Where, the hospital?” Patrick asked.

  “Yeah. That’s the same one I woke up in after the event.”

  “The event? I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.”

  Graham swallowed another mouthful of comfort food. “It was my radioactive spider moment. How I got my powers.”

  “Alright, I’ve got to hear this,” Patrick said.

  “I got hit by a meteor.”

  “What? When things blow over, you’re going to have to tell me all about it,” Patrick said.

  “Yeah.” Graham’s face grew somber. “This is all over, isn’t it? Armageddon won, and this city is theirs.”

  “I can’t accept that,” Patrick said. “And I know you can’t either. We know what we’re up against now, and it’s time to prepare for the rematch. That tag team title is going to be ours.”

  “I know you’re trying to keep it light, but that’s my thing,” Graham said. “I’m being serious now, though. Crystal is gone, and Sean just told me he’s heading home for a little while.”

  “Look, I’m not going to sugar coat it. We’re probably finished, but I’m not going to sit back and just let those goons run roughshod all over the citizens of this city.”

  “That’s what I was expecting to hear. You know I’m in too, but we need to do this differently.”

  “Before you say it, I know Crystal was right,” Patrick said. “I went about it all wrong, trying to protect everyone like I could shoulder the burden. I saw that, and was attempting to wrap my head around it even before the last run at the Missile Silo.”

  “The Missile Silo,” Graham said in a quiet voice. “Even I wouldn’t have gone with such a cheesy name. I’m glad to hear you’re open to some help now.”

  “This is too big for us to handle as just a dozen capes. We’re reaching out to everyone now.”

  “Like more supers?” Graham asked.

  “No, from now on, we’re supporting the police and STF teams,” Patrick said. “We’re not treating it like it’s the other way around. That was the mistake I made at the bank. It’s what got Nolan hurt the first time.”

  “I think part of that was Nolan trying to prove himself. It seems the rain got to him.”

  “Literally.” They both said at the same time.

  “We’re also going to be connecting with the neighborhoods again. The drones are too impersonal, and we need to connect with the people we’re helping.” Patrick speared a bit of food with his plastic fork.

  “I know Crystal and Sean need some space, so what’s our roster look like now?”

  Patrick washed down the last bite with some soda. “Bryson is still willing to help out. He says the Justice Gym is still open to the team.”

  “I take back what I said about how cheesy the Missile Silo was,” Graham said.

  “Manny is still on board, and his tech guy, the Architect, has been working on some new gear,” Patrick said. “I haven’t talked to Nolan, but I think we should at least make sure he’s receiving the training he needs, even if he doesn’t want to join the fight again.”

  “Don’t gloss over that new gear part,” Graham said. “What are we talking about here?”

  “I don’t know the details, but he was putting something together for Speetah. I think he had some toys ready for Striker, too.”

  “What about the newcomers? Stringfellow and Genevieve.”

  “I don’t know. The others came to me, but I can’t get a read from them, and it didn’t feel right asking.”

  “Abby and Troy?” Graham asked.

  “Troy is going to be our eyes in the sky still, but I think Abby is going to look for Crystal.”

  “Let’s put her down as a maybe,” Graham said.

  “Are you writing this down?” Patrick asked.

  “Of course. It’s difficult keeping track of this many people without a list.”

  “You didn’t put Juliana’s name on there, did you?” Patrick asked. “I think she may be taking a bit of a break as well.”

  Graham frowned and crossed a name off of his list. “Have you seen her using her powers? I still have no idea what her deal is. Does she grow? Is she a serial killer, strangling bad guys in dark alleys? I gotta know.”

  “I’ll let you figure that one out by yourself. I gotta go.” Patrick slapped a hand on Graham’s shoulder and got up to leave.

  “Body Builder,” Graham said, staring off into space.

  “What?”

  “That can be your name. Because milk helps to build strong bodies.”

  “Maybe we should schedule a CAT scan for you,” Patrick said. “I think that atomic power bomb caused a little brain damage.”

  EPILOGUE

  Crystal stepped into the low lit bar and found the table tucked away in the back. She wore a hooded sweat
shirt with her tail hidden inside the collar to avoid any extra attention. When she reached the corner, she pulled her hood back and sat. She hadn’t seen the person sitting across from her, face to face, since they fought the Visionaries.

  “I like what you’ve done with your hair,” Crystal said.

  Cassandra Owens, formerly known as Deadeye, ran a hand through her short curly hair. A drastic change from the long locks she sported before. “Thanks. I see you’re growing yours out a little more.”

  “Yeah, mostly in the back.” Crystal pulled at the light brown hair to the side of her tail. “Just until it’s the same length as the front.”

  The two women smiled in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds more. Even in the dark booth, Crystal could see the scarred skin around Cassandra’s eye. The purple lines waved out across her cheek and back along her temple. She wasn’t wearing her signature visor that slid side to side, revealing either her natural eye or the one that could unleash vicious energy blasts.

  The pair had spent the past month communicating through calls, text messages and emails, but Cassandra set this in-person meeting up after the news of the Missile Silo takeover.

  “I’m glad you could meet me here,” Cassandra said. “I needed to get this to someone that could use it, before turning myself in.”

  She reached into the bag on the seat next to her and pulled out a stack of files, all organized and labeled. She slid the pile across the booth to Crystal, spinning it to face her.

  “Is this really everything you’ve got?”

  “Every bit of it. Took me a while to print out some of the newer information and put it all together,” Cassandra said.

  Crystal flipped through the individual folders, with various names on the tabs and pulled one out with the words “Cat Lady” crossed out and replaced with “Speetah”.

  She held it up. “I think I’m pretty interested in reading this one,” Crystal said, with a smirk.

  Cassandra held her hands up just below shoulder height. “In my defense, I was an angry person back then.”