“I thought the powder gave you a heightened awareness of some kind?”
“It kind of does,” he answered, “but it doesn’t just happen. I have to relax and concentrate. It doesn’t come easy.”
“I hate to add to your worries, but I’ve been thinking about something. I forgot about the National Guard positioned on the buildings.”
“Welcome to the club,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’ve been through this before and this is exactly how it starts. You leave the house with this plan you think is perfect and you’re all optimistic and as the night goes on, all these things start popping up. Things that you didn’t think of, things that you didn’t consider.” Steve moved the wiper down a notch. “In spite of it all, I’m starting to feel better. I’ve been up against Bryan twice with no permanent damage. Maybe the two of us, with you able to see his moves ahead of time, can take him down.”
“Do you feel his presence at all?” she asked.
“I haven’t felt a thing. He likes running Little Italy, Soho and Harlem. He’ll show up some time tonight. When he does, we’ll have to ditch the car fast. Get out and follow me. We’ll stay on the ground and run to the darkest spot around. If it goes anything like last time, Bryan will sense us and come running. I think he’ll really be pissed off this time.”
“You’re his best friend, I’m sure the connection is much stronger between you two. You’ll probably feel him long before I do, so I’ll just follow your lead.” Nora reached to the driver’s side and ran her fingers through Steve’s hair. She moved her lips to the boy’s face.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“I was just going to give you a kiss.”
“Not a chance, not when you’re on the powder.”
Nora jerked her hand back, slammed her arms cross and leaned to stare out the passenger window. “Fine, if that’s the way you feel.”
“Hey, when this is all over and the powder’s gone we can kiss all you want.”
The girl turned her neck sharply, “Hey, when this is all over you can kiss my ass.”
“Exactly.” Steve delivered the line as he’d remembered it from an Abbot and Costello routine. “The thing is I want to kiss you more than you will ever know, but later when you’re off the powder, you’re not going to want to kiss me.”
“That’s not true.” Her breath steamed the window.
“Yes it is and that’s okay. When the powder’s worn off, let’s just say I never want you to feel the way you did yesterday.”
Nora unfolded her arms and straightened in the seat. “A day after we bring Bryan home and the powder is totally out of our systems, I’m going to give you the best kiss you’ve ever had.”
“I don’t know, the best kiss I ever got was a dandy. Any woman on the planet would have trouble topping it.” Steve looked at Nora and at that moment loved her more than life itself.
“You better be talking about me mister,” she said, playfully pinching what was left of his love handle.
“Oh ,crap!” He jerked the wheel and the car swerved on the wet pavement.
“Sorry, sorry,” Nora said.
“That’s not it. I had him for a second.” The funnel that sprouted from his scalp pointed left. It collapsed within seconds. The teenage pushed the accelerator and took the next left. “Son of a Bitch, I lost him.”
“Go straight for a couple blocks and try to get on River Drive,” Nora said, “We can follow it down the entire length of Harlem. We’ll find him.”
“Good idea.” Steve twisted the wiper button to the fastest setting and followed the signs to Harlem River Drive. He merged minus the usual anxiety. The two sat silent as the rain thickened and the wipers worked at a feverish pace.
“Got him,” Steve said. A second funnel erupted and quickly collapsed. “Start watching for a bridge exit. That smart freak, he’s still in the Bronx.”
* * *
“Let’s take this top side,” Steve yelled over the pouring rain. The teenagers had parked in a deserted Bronx business district and were now running toward the nearest alley.
“I thought you wanted to do this on the ground,” Nora said.
“That was in Manhattan with God knows how many guardsmen scattered on the buildings. This rain is great too. There’s no one on the streets. You go first.” Steve slowed letting Nora pass. No psychic directional funnel meant Bryan was out of range and it was safe to let Nora take the lead. He loved watching her ascend. She zigzagged her way up two tall buildings, bouncing from wall to wall two stories at a time. She was half way to the top when Steve followed taking the same path.
Steve landed on the roof and shucked his backpack. “Take off your backpack and untie your bat.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I got Bryan on the radar the second I landed. Damn sixth sense, I wonder if it’s altitude sensitive.” Steve fixed the scabbard and sword to his belt and rested the bat over his shoulder. “You lied about being able to sense him?”
“Yes, are you mad?”
“No, not unless he kills you and then I will be so mad at you, I will never forgive you.” Steve gestured to her to firm up the grip on her bat. “Listen, this thing hates me. When he’s coming at you it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen, so don’t hold back.”
“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked, wiping the rain from her face.
“Yeah, I can’t fight worth a shit.”
“Just go angry orangutan on him.”
“It’s getting strong.” Steve tugged at Nora’s jacket. “Into the center,” he said, directing her away from the ledge.
“You’re scaring me.”
“Be scared. Be scared shitless.”
“You’re swearing a lot.”
“Sorry.”
“How close?”
“Thirty seconds maybe, I thought we’d have more time.” Steve pushed at her shoulder. “Spread out and stay to his back. As I fight his face, keep to his back and swing that bat on him like you want to kill him.”
“Okay,” she yelled, stepping back. She spread her legs shoulder width apart lowering her center of gravity, and then swung the bat through the rain.
Steve spotted the impressive and frightening Troll two buildings away. It bounded in their direction with the speed of a charging water buffalo. “Hey, stupid question for you. Did you have an orgasm when we were together?”
“No,” she answered, breathing heavily, “You gave me several orgasms, you just weren’t there for any of them.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, as Troll landed on the roof. The vibrations tickled the bottom of her feet.
Troll walked at Steve removing the long coat that now looked too small in the shoulders. “Here’s your coat you backstabber.” The monster tossed it.
Steve slapped the drenched item away. “Hey buddy, guess who’s coming home tonight?”
“He’s swinging,” Nora yelled.
The hulking figure blurred forward. Steve ducked a muscular arm and swung the bat sinking it into his opponents abdominal. The teenager spun low to the monster’s outside and swung a second time. It smacked the back of the monster’s leg with a sickening whack. Steve popped up and back peddled.
“Over here!” he yelled. Troll turned to face him.
“Betrayer,” Troll said, one hand rubbing his stomach, the other rubbing his aching hamstring, “you’re breaking up the team.”
“Again,” the girl yelled.
Steve hesitated at first then swung hard at the baldhead racing at him. The head slipped past and the teens hands smacked the hard skull almost jarring the bat loose. Troll tackled him at the mid section taking him up and then down to the wet surface. Steve winced as he landed flat on his back, the bat ripped from his hands.
“Yaaagh!” Steve screamed not out of pain but from digging down into his soul, into his very being, bringing out a part of himself never seen before. He threw his legs over his shoulders sending his mutated frie
nd through the air. He rolled over to his feet and charged. “You’re coming home!” he yelled, sending a barrage of wild swings at Bryan’s head. Steve pushed forward in a superhuman flurry of fists, landing one out of every five. Bryan dodged backward weaving, sometimes stumbling, but avoiding most of Steve’s swings.
Steve tripped over a pipe and threw his hands out to stop his fall. Bryan found his balance and jump forward with his own barrage of punches. Steve refused to retreat. He suffered a few glancing blows then turned into a crazed berserker flinging fists wildly.
The two super beings entangled in ferocious battle bounced off large air-conditioning units and other metal objects like a living pinball machine, swinging on each other with little grace or forethought. Nora tried keeping to Bryan’s back but could not. The action, so fast, her psychic ability to see just ahead proved useless. Too scared to hit Bryan with her bat, she leaped to a ladder leading up a water tower and watched the chaos below.
The frenzy halted with Bryan landing a fist across Steve’s jaw. He spun, stumbling across the roof on all fours attempting to get back on his feet. Bryan chased after throwing fist after fist, pummeling Steve’s back until Steve collapsed. Bryan pounced and then flipped him over, pinning him down by the arms. The monster cocked back an arm then drove his fist into Steve’s face. He raised this fist high then looked over to a sound beside him. Wood splinters exploded into the night as Nora’s bat broke across Bryan’s brow.
Bryan stepped back, dazed, clutching his head. “You… are... out of the club.”
Nora charged the over developed mutation. She threw alternating punches into Bryan’s stomach following the form her Grandfather and Father had taught over the years. Drilling her strikes as deep as possible, she pushed forward, one-step for every two punches. Bryan doubled over, his head within the girls reach. She ignored the precognition that showed her retreating and fired off four swift punches to the monsters face. The skin tore from her knuckles and she screamed. It amused her at how visually accurate the precognition was and how it had not given the slightest hint of the pain shooting through her hands.
Bryan retaliated with a right cross to the girls head sending her sprawling to the rain-pelted roof. He snatched her up by one arm and began spinning like an Olympic athlete competing in the hammer toss. After a half-dozen rotations, he let go of the petite girl sending her cart wheeling far out, off the tall building.
“That was cool,” he said, and then a sensation burned through his side, accompanied by a gushing sound. He looked down to see the betrayer’s sword sticking out his front. The blade withdrew to the same gushing sound.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Steve said. He held out the sword and began circling.
The rain and the wind picked up; Steve jabbed at the things chest then pulled back. He jabbed a second time and a third, but Troll dodged each with ease. He lunged and the tip drew blood. Over extended and off balance, his withdrawal was slow and the monster grabbed the blade.
“Screw you!” Steve jerked the sword back opening a gash on the monster’s palm.
Troll turned and leaped, but instead of flying three stories in the air, he flew ten feet then rolled across the roof holding his side. Steve charged swinging the sword at his downed opponent. Troll rolled and scooted frantically evading the sharp steel. The monster managed to get to his feet and continued running from the slicing metal.
Steve’s head throbbed from the beating he’d taken and with each step came an explosion of pain. Rings of lights popped and flashed in front of him. “Hold still, damn it.” He threw the sword.
The blade skewered Troll’s thick thigh. Faster than the normal eye could follow, Troll snatched it from his wound sending it spinning through the pouring rain.
Steve watched the weapon fly up and away. Even over the downpour, it whistled as it cut through the air and stuck high on the water tower with a muffled twang.
“Oh crap,” he whispered. Steve stared at the thing’s baldhead and thought it odd how the rain bounced off creating an illusion of a cap made of splash.
The two charged swinging at each other like boys on a playground. Each head hunting with wild punches looking for a knockout. The flashes of lights playing out in Steve vision intensified and without warning, he vomited. A punch landed on his neck and he fell to one knee. Two fast strikes to the head put him on his back. He looked upward unable to move and a foot stomped down on his stomach. The beast that was once his friend reached down picking him up by the throat. It raised him over head and heaved him into the beams of the water tower. The impact on the beams and subsequent slide downward didn’t hurt as much as it should. Steve didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified.
Long bare feet stepped passed and started up the ladder. The rain halted turning into a drizzle. Steve rolled to his back and watched his friend climb. Bryan hobbled up slowly one hand clutching his midsection, the other gripping the rails. At the end of the ladder, he reached out, grabbed the sword and jerked it free.
A bolt of lightning cracked down slamming into Bryan; the entire rooftop lit up. Steve protected his eyes from the intense illumination. He opened his eyes and stared up at the tower but could see nothing, not even the tower. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, the darkness gave way to shapes and objects, and the tower was there again—minus Bryan.
He surveyed the darkness and spotted two large feet laying not ten feet from his location. Head still throbbing he crawled to his friend. A scorched cavity the size of a nickel appeared on Bryan’s ankle and a thin line of smoke twisted upward from the hole. Steve crawled up next to his friend. Bryan’s chest was motionless, his face still like stone. A thicker line of smoke trailed upward at the shoulder. Steve placed a forearm on the massive chest and pulled himself up. Bryan’s mouth fell open and a plume of smoke escaped.
Bryan’s chest then heaved and his eyes opened. He sat up and Steve rolled off. Bryan’s hand darted out and grabbed Steve by the throat. Instantaneously the teenager’s oxygen was gone. Panicked, he struck at the muscular arm to no avail. The familiar rings and flashes of lights flooded over him. A loud thwack interrupted the light show, the strong hand let go, and Steve took a deep breath. He coughed and rubbed his throat. The swords blade was buried deep in Bryan’s skull, all the way to the bridge of the nose. Nora stood behind the brute. She let the sword go. Bryan’s body fell to the side; she dropped to her knees.
“I’m sorry.” She wept while cradling her arm.
Steve saw that her shoulder was dislocated. He wanted to go to her, to put his arms around her and comfort her, but now was not the time. He needed to finish the job. The Troll’s identity had to remain a mystery. He would do what needed to be done and then drop Nora off at a hospital. The teenager pushed through the pain and got to his feet. On shaky legs, he roamed the rooftop until he found the long canvas coat. He drug Bryan’s mutated body away from Nora and laid the coat out beside it. He didn’t have the luxury of time. He pulled the sword from his friend’s skull and without hesitation brought it down hard across the neck. He placed the severed head onto the coat with great care. He repeated the process on both hands and feet and tied the coat around the appendages.
“Bryan,” Steve said, looking up at the storm clouds, “a guy couldn’t have had a better friend.”
BETTER TO DIE A HERO
Epilogue
That winter:
Steve navigated his uncle’s Oldsmobile sedan through the snow staying in the tire tracks of a previous driver brave enough to drive to Harlem River after a night of record snowfall. Nora had suggested the south Bronx location as a meeting place. She had cousins that worked in the area and she knew it would be deserted on a Sunday morning.
If the tracks he followed belonged to Nora’s vehicle, she was indeed the braver. The snow was getting deeper and he stopped and turned off the ignition. He paused to stare at the sword on the passenger seat.
He grabbed the sword and stepped out into the snow, locked up and walked down the ro
ad. Tires were spinning just around the corner. Someone was gunning an engine.
Excitement built as he rounded the corner. He hadn’t seen her beautiful face in over six months. He was disappointed to find a young couple, their car stuck in the snow. The girl was behind the wheel and the boy behind the car pushing. At least he knew why they had ventured to the secluded spot. Hormones. He’d have done the same if it meant a chance to make out with Nora.
“Need some help there?” Steve said to the boy.
The boy straightened and his graze went straight to the sword Steve was holding.
“Don’t freak,” Steve said. He turned and tossed the sheathed sword a good twenty feet. It speared the snow and stuck up straight.
“Good deal,” the boy said, “for a second I was having visions of Son of Sam.”
Steve placed himself behind the car. “No dogs talking into my ears.”
“Good deal, my grandmother was so frightened of David Berkowitz she had nightmares for years after. She used to scare the bajeezes out of us kids. Now she has nightmares about the Troll.”
“Her and me both.” Steve planted his feet and placed his hands on the car.
“Punch it baby,” the boy yelled to his girlfriend. The two of them pushed and the car moved forward. “Keep it going baby.” The boy ran to the passenger side and climbed in while the car was moving. He stuck his head out the window and hollered at Steve, “Thanks dude.”
Steve waved as he stomped to where he’d thrown the sword. He picked it out of the snow and started to unsheathe it, but quickly pushed the hilt back in. He hadn’t taken the sword from its scabbard since that night for fear that the rain hadn’t washed away Bryan’s blood and he didn’t think he could bare the sight of it—not yet anyway.
“Hey you,” Nora said from behind.
Steve turned. She was as beautiful as ever and he smiled. “Where’d you park?”
“Right behind you.” She walked up to him, put her arms around him, and hugged him vigorously. “So, you kept the weight off.”
Better to Die a Hero Page 23