by Stan Lee
Duane’s grip loosened. Roxanne pulled free, and turned to see him staring at her in shock. Their eyes locked.
“You really are like me,” he said.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
“Okay,” Carlos said. “Let’s all—”
Another bolt filled the air, blinding Roxanne momentarily. She felt a burning sensation on her side. She looked down and saw singed clothing and flesh.
Holy crap, she thought. I’ve been hit!
Screaming again, she turned toward the guards, and charged. Sharp shock-cries blasted out of her mouth, dropping everyone and everything in her path. A fierce Rooster shape rose up around her, blazing with Zodiac power.
Dimly she realized that Carlos was right behind her, yelling something. But Roxanne barely registered his presence. All that mattered, right now, was escape.
“Get her!” the female agent called.
Roxanne charged forward, blasting holes in one wall after another, reaching out to clear away shattered drywall and plaster. She reached a wide corridor with a hard stone wall, leaned her head back, and cried out. The wall shook, buckled, and flew apart.
Then she was outside.
She almost slammed into a man, a tourist in a Hawaiian shirt. He gaped at her, staring for a moment at the blood on her side. Then he turned and fled.
Dazed, Roxanne stopped and grabbed at her side. More tourists were fleeing, running crazily along the pier. Others had stopped to stare at the huge round hole in the side of the Clock Tower.
“Roxanne!” Carlos cried, running after her through the hole.
Carlos touched her shoulder and looked down at her side. “Flesh wound,” he said. “It just grazed you.”
She nodded, relieved. The panic began to subside. Carlos pulled a length of tape out of his pack and started bandaging her wound.
“We’ve got to move,” he said. “They’re coming.”
They ran a few feet down the pier, shoving a young couple out of the way. “Sorry,” Carlos said.
The Vanguard agents burst out of the Clock Tower building. They looked around for a moment. One of them fired straight up into the air, sending a jagged bolt of energy high into the air. People screamed and scattered.
Carlos pointed to a small yacht, tied by a rope to the pier. It looked deserted. He leapt the distance onto its deck, then reached out a hand to Roxanne.
“You’re pretty fast,” she said, “for a brainiac.”
He pulled her onto the deck. “Needs must when the devil drives,” he said.
“Is that Bob Dylan?”
He led her to the back of the boat, where a tarp had been tied down over a pile of picnic coolers. They pushed the coolers out of the way and pulled the tarp over themselves.
From this angle, they could just see the pier. The Vanguard agents were running and scrambling around. One of them fired another shot, and people started screaming again.
“I don’t think they saw us,” Carlos said.
“Yeah.”
Then, suddenly, Roxanne felt horrible. “I screwed up,” she said. “I panicked. My power made things worse.”
“Well,” Carlos said, “things were pretty bad already. And you weren’t the first one to panic.”
She turned away from him, trying not to cry.
“If anybody screwed up,” he continued, “it was me. I didn’t expect our target’s power to be so destructive. And I sure didn’t expect this many Vanguard agents. They’re not playing around anymore.”
Up on the pier, most of the people had fled. Roxanne could see the cluster of Vanguard agents stalking around, searching for Carlos and Roxanne.
“So now what?” she asked. “We bail?”
“We can’t. Not yet.”
Carlos pointed back toward the battered Clock Tower. In front of it, just behind the Vanguard agents, a bright flare of Zodiac energy lit up the night. Roxanne couldn’t make out the details, but she knew who it was.
“Duane,” she said.
WHEN THE SHOOTING started, Duane felt himself losing control. No, he thought. No, don’t let it happen again! He looked around wildly and instinctively grabbed the girl in the hoodie. Roxanne.
But it was too late. His power was already flaring, spreading like a wave across the room. Phones sparked, lights shorted out. All around him, a cocoon of energy radiated outward, forming the snarling, snorting form of a giant boar.
People were yelling—mostly at me, Duane realized. Then a gun exploded, and the girl, Roxanne, screamed. But it wasn’t just sound that came out of her mouth. Her voice knocked a hole right through the wall, scattering the agents in suits and the ones dressed as policemen.
Except they weren’t policemen. Whatever mess Duane had gotten into, it was much deeper than some simple trouble with the law. And he had absolutely no idea who to trust.
Then Roxanne was gone, along with Carlos, the man she’d come in with. Beta, the woman in the suit, pointed after them and started off at a run. The fake policemen followed, gathering up fresh weapons to replace the ones Duane’s power had ruined.
“Duane,” a voice said.
He whirled around. Josie stepped out of the shadows, moving to stand next to the table. One of its legs had been blasted off, and it tottered at an angle. Josie held up both hands in an “I surrender” gesture.
“I can still help you, Duane,” Josie said. “But you’ve got to calm down.” She gestured at her own arm, just as a couple of sparks shot up from a small wrist-mounted device. “Stop using your power, okay?”
Duane stared at her for a moment. He felt himself twitching nervously, the huge energy Pig whipping its head around with every motion he made. Who, he thought, who are the good guys here? The guys dressed like policemen? The girl with the hoodie? This woman who seems to know all about me?
“I know what you’re going through, Duane,” Josie continued. The Zodiac energy rose up around her again, forming the raging energy form of a beautiful steed. “I’m just like you. I’m Zodiac.”
Suddenly Duane felt exhausted. The energy faded, and he wobbled a bit on his feet. Josie stepped forward and caught him.
“Easy,” she said. “It’s okay. The Zodiac power—it takes a lot out of you, until you know how to use it.” She smiled, and suddenly she looked very tired. “I’m still learning myself.”
She started to lead him outside, stepping carefully through the hole in the wall.
“I’ve got a stealth ship moored just offshore,” Josie said. “We can avoid all…” She gestured around at the debris left behind from the battle. “…all this.”
Duane turned away from her, embarrassed. On her wrist, the tiny device had stopped smoking—but now its screen flashed with static.
Josie smiled. “Our electronics have been shielded against the Zodiac power. Your power is a little stronger than we expected, though.”
Duane stared at the screen, trying to focus his mind. As they passed through the outer corridor, he reached out a finger. A small flash of Zodiac energy arced from his fingertip to Josie’s wrist-device.
A holographic display flashed up from it, showing an image of four people. Duane recognized himself and Roxanne, the girl in the hoodie. Two others stood with them, two people he didn’t know: a short, stout young man in glasses, and another figure that flickered in and out of focus.
Josie frowned. “That’s, uh, you don’t need to see that yet.” She clicked the display off. Then she steered him firmly through another hole, this one blasted through the outer stone wall, onto the bustling pier outside.
People were running around, pointing and shouting in the dim light. Alpha and Beta, the agents in suits, were directing the gunmen, instructing them to search behind buildings and inside boats.
A single blast rang out. Duane flinched.
“This way,” Josie said. She led him around the side of the building, toward the pier.
Duane kept thinking about the holo-display. Sometimes his mind worked like that; even though he’d onl
y seen the image for a moment, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. As Josie peered around the side of the building, Duane aimed his finger at her wrist-device and fired off another small jolt of power.
Again, the image of the four people flashed up into the air. And this time, display lettering appeared over the four figures. Duane’s was labeled PIG, and Roxanne’s said ROOSTER in big letters. The man in glasses was RAM.
The last figure was fully visible now. It was a young blonde girl with wide eyes. Her display read RABBIT.
Duane glanced over at Josie. She was creeping around the building, watching for trouble. She hadn’t noticed the holo-image rising up from her arm, bobbing and twisting in the air as she moved.
Duane could feel the information flowing into him now. It was more intense than just hacking, or reading code. He sent off another jolt into Josie’s wrist-gadget, and more lettering appeared. Above his own image, the label appeared: CONTACT MADE. Roxanne’s and Ram’s both read W/ENEMY. And Rabbit’s said AT LARGE.
But the biggest display lettering of all hovered over the whole image now. It read: TARGETS.
“Targets?” Duane asked.
Josie whipped her head around, glaring at him.
Duane felt a stab of fear. Again, energy whipped out from him—a larger bolt this time. The holo-device sparked, flared, and caught fire. Its projected image flashed to static, then vanished.
Josie cried out. She scrabbled at the device, unsnapped it, and threw it, still flaming, to the ground. She clutched at her arm, grimacing in pain.
“Don’t. Move,” she said, her voice as hard as nails.
Duane pulled away. The fear grew inside him. Josie didn’t want to help him; to her, he was just a target. He couldn’t trust anyone—not the Vanguard agents, not anybody. He was alone, just as he’d always been.
He felt his last shred of control slipping away. The Pig rose up and took him over, blasting up and outward. On the dark pier, he glowed like the sun.
Josie stared at him. The Horse power flashed up to surround her. But he barely noticed.
People fled in terror. The lights of the pier sparked and went out. Musicians hustled by, scurrying to get out of the area. One of them held an electronic keyboard, which exploded in his hands. He dropped it and ran.
The guards arrived, aiming their guns at Duane.
Beta, the woman in the suit, pushed her way through the panicking crowd. “Contingency Omega,” she said, pointing at Duane. “Take him down!”
“No!” Josie said. “Maxwell wants him alive.”
Beta stared at her, astonished. “Don’t tell us what to do, freak!”
The power was too strong now. The Pig was loose. Duane’s energy flare expanded outward, out and up, and all the lights went out on the pier. Then the next block inland went dark. And the next.
Up above, the Clock Tower’s mechanism ground to a noisy halt. There was a heavy scraping noise, like stone on metal. Duane saw a quick movement above his head—
—and then the huge clock face crashed to the ground. It landed with the force of an earthquake, shaking the pier. Dust rose; shards of the pier flew into the air. People screamed and ran.
Duane coughed and shook his head. He waved away the dust and looked up. For a terrible moment he thought Josie was dead, buried underneath the enormous, fallen chunk of the Clock Tower.
Killed by my power, he thought.
Then Josie came sprinting out of the dust. Her clothes were torn and covered with dirt, but she appeared to be unharmed.
“Duane,” she called.
Alpha, the big male agent, ran up, his weapon drawn. He cast his eyes from Duane to Josie, then smirked.
“The great and powerful Zodiac,” he said, shaking his head.
Beta pushed past him, followed by the armed guards. She pointed at Duane and Josie. “Secure them both. Whatever it takes.”
“I don’t know what Maxwell’s been playing at with you weirdos,” said Alpha. “But it’s not working. Our mission is to take that kid in, and we’re doing it. Without you.” They pointed their weapons at Josie.
Josie shot forward, chucking Alpha through the hole in the Clock Tower wall. Before his body could hit the ground, she viciously kicked Beta in the arm holding the pistol, knocking the firearm to the ground. “If you bozos were in charge, we’d have another Lystria on our hands.”
Josie whipped around, standing off against the rest of the agents. “I’m the one in charge here,” she said, glaring at them. “You follow my orders, or you fly back like these two idiots.” One of the agents cocked his gun, and she smiled. “Well, that’s one way to do it…”
Duane ran around the corner as the Vanguard started fighting each other, when suddenly, firm hands grabbed him, wrenching him around the side of the building. Duane looked up, shocked, and found himself staring at Roxanne.
“We got one chance to get out of here,” she said. Behind her, Carlos nodded grimly.
“O-okay,” Duane said.
With an enormous effort of will, he forced the Zodiac energy to recede. Then he started off away from the pier, toward the city. But Roxanne grabbed his arm. When he looked back at her, she was smiling. “I got a better plan,” she said. And suddenly, Duane knew who to trust.
“She had a hologram, a three-dimensional image of you. And me, too. And two other people she called ‘targets.’” Duane glanced nervously at Roxanne. “Is that what we are?”
She reached over and punched his shoulder. “I am no target,” she said. “And neither are you.”
Duane gave her a shy smile.
They sat crouched down on the lip of the Clock Tower roof, their backs against the stump of wood and stone left behind where the clock face had broken off. Below, police and emergency vehicles swarmed across the pier, emergency lights flashing in the night. The police had searched all around the Clock Tower, but Roxanne had been right: they hadn’t thought to check the top of it.
“Wh-when can we leave?” Duane asked.
“Carlos is the boss.” Roxanne pointed her thumb behind her. Carlos was perched a little higher on the roof, talking urgently into his phone. “But I think we better wait for things to cool out down there.”
Duane glanced down at the pier. Josie and the Vanguard agents had fled, leaving the clock face sprawled on its side. Its hands were stuck at 12:48.
“Are you thinking about your power?” Roxanne asked.
He nodded.
“They are going to train me,” she continued. “So I can control my power. That’s what they say. I guess they can train you, too.”
Carlos scooted forward, clicking off his phone. “Jasmine says she and Steven just got to the States,” he said. “Hopefully they’ll find the last recruit there.”
“Rabbit,” Duane said. “The blonde girl.”
“That’s right. She’s a blonde girl.” Carlos frowned. “How did you know that?”
Duane just smiled, a shy little smirk. Roxanne caught his eye, and smiled along with him.
“Better get comfortable,” Carlos continued. “We’re gonna have to fly commercial out of South Africa. That means we have to wait till morning.”
Duane opened his mouth to speak. “I, I, I—”
“Spit it out, man,” Roxanne said.
“I don’t think I can go with you,” Duane said, all at once. “This is my home.”
Roxanne cast her eyes out over the expanse of city, to the right of the pier. A dark city block flared back to life as its power was restored, then winked back off again.
“Hate to tell you this, man,” Roxanne said, “but I don’t think you have a home anymore. It is kind of broken.”
“What’s Lystria?” Duane asked.
“Your brain just jumps around like a frog, doesn’t it?”
“Lystria,” Carlos said slowly, “is a city that Maxwell, leader of the Vanguard company, destroyed. An entire population of people dead, just because—one time—they got in his way.”
Carlos’s voice was deep
er, full of anger. Duane turned away, uncomfortable.
“Maxwell doesn’t stop,” Carlos continued. “Not before he had the Zodiac power, and certainly not now. If you stay here, he’s going to come after you again.”
“And next time,” Roxanne said, “you might not have Doctor Science and a hot up-and-coming musician to help save your South African butt.”
She grinned.
Despite himself, Duane grinned back. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. The night was cool, and he could hear the authorities below, already beginning the work of rebuilding the pier.
Duane leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. In his mind’s eye, he saw once again the dark pier, the Vanguard agents firing into the crowd, the people running for their lives. He felt the power rise up within him, unbound, uncontrollable, blazing out to wreak havoc for miles around. He flinched at the memory.
When he opened his eyes, Roxanne was staring at him with an understanding look.
“That gets better,” she said.
He nodded and took a deep breath, letting the night air wash over him.
MAXWELL’S EYES GLARED out of the holographic display. “So,” he said, his voice perfectly even. “Another failure.”
“Only because of those idiots you sent along with me.” Josie’s clothes were still in tatters from where the building had collapsed on her, but more than anything, she was annoyed. With herself, with the other agents, even with Maxwell himself.
Let Maxwell do what he wants to me, she thought. I don’t care anymore.
“I tried,” she said.
In the holo-display, Maxwell leaned back. He was still in Hong Kong, in his temporary office there. He’d had a few weapons brought in to decorate the walls, relics and souvenirs of places where the Vanguard company had fought its private, shadowy wars. A deadly AK-47 rifle stood mounted on a stand atop the desk in front of him. Maxwell ran his hand along the gun, staring at it thoughtfully.