The New Heroes: Crossfire

by Michael Carroll

  He began to catch up.

  Come on, little closer… Closer…

  At the right moment, when he was only yards behind her, she pulled open the refueling inlet on the side of the spare jetpack and let go.

  The pack crashed into Shadow just as the exhaust from her own jetpack ignited the fuel.

  The force of the explosion sent Stephanie shooting forward, tumbling head over heels, and by the time she righted herself all she could see behind her was a thick ball of orange fire.

  Did I get him?

  Shadow came screaming down out of the fireball, his uniform burning away from his blistering skin in a thick trail of smoldering ash. He plummeted to the ice, came down hard, rolled to a stop, and lay still.

  Stephanie kept moving, arcing her path toward Brawn and the others. She had no idea how she was going to help him. Dealing with one of the clones had been hard enough. Five more would be impossible.

  If I can get them to chase me one at a time… There was a second spare jetpack on the ChampionShip.

  Doubt the same trick will work twice, but maybe it doesn’t need to. Maybe there’s another way to get them away from Brawn.

  Cassandra shook her head. “I can’t wake any of them. That thing they were zapped with has completely messed them up.”

  Razor said, “Get inside Cross’s mind, then. Or, no, try Laurie’s.”

  “I’ve already tried Laurie. He’s like Brawn or Impervia—I can’t get in. Some people it just doesn’t work with.”

  “Possibly one of the reasons Cross chose Laurie as his partner,” Lance said. “Keep trying, Cassandra. Don’t quit. Whatever happens, never quit.”

  Cross turned away from his monitors. “Looks like Shadow’s out of the game for now. Pity. I’ve invested a lot in him… Hope he recovers. If he does, send him to me, not back into the fight. How are our other kids doing, Laurie?”

  “Warwick’s still down. In fact, he hasn’t moved since Renata engaged him outside. I’ve got a bad feeling about that. He might be dead. Your fault—you should have sent one of the others to help him. Alex’s got a broken arm and, well, emotionally he’s having a bad time. He’s not used to pain. None of them are. Tuan, Eldon, Zeke, Nathan, and Oscar are dealing with Brawn.”

  “And Cord’s daughter is still out there. Tell the boys to drop Brawn. He’s not much of a threat without his armor. Tuan and Zeke are to take care of Stephanie, and order the others back here. They’re to make sure that Cooper doesn’t try anything clever.”

  “What about his friends?”

  “They’re human now. They’re no threat. Let them live.”

  “Why? Another sudden change of plans?”

  “No, the same plan it’s always been. You just don’t know all the pieces.” Victor checked the status of the missile. “That’s it. All locked and loaded and ready to go.” He turned slowly in his chair to face Laurie. “Well? Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m not launching it yet?”

  “I honestly don’t care any more. I can’t stop it, can I?”

  “No. And the reason I’m not launching yet is—”

  “Don’t care, not listening. You’re insane and we’re all going to Hell for what we’ve done. Even if we don’t go through with this, we’re going to Hell anyway. We killed people, Victor. We’re murderers.”

  “I prefer to think of it not as killing, more as pruning. Helping the human race to flourish by thinning the herd.” He grinned. “You can’t make an omelet without shooting a few eggs, right?”

  In the hangar, Danny refused to allow the pain in his broken jaw to get the better of him. He had woken a few minutes earlier, his entire body wracked with agony every time he coughed.

  The blood on his face and neck had frozen solid, and it had taken all of his strength just to roll onto his stomach. He couldn’t stand up, or even switch to fast-time.

  He had checked Kenya and then Renata, and almost cried with relief when he saw that they were still alive. But he hadn’t been able to wake them.

  Now, he was crawling on his belly to the center of the room, toward Mina and Colin. His mechanical arm was useless. It dragged limply behind him as he pulled himself forward with his left hand.

  Every movement was torture, every breath of the freezing air sending needle-sharp twinges through his lungs. He knew that if he could turn his head enough to look back, there would be a trail of rapidly cooling blood behind him.

  I’m going to die today. Very soon, probably. If the loss of blood doesn’t finish me, the cold will.

  He stretched out his left arm again, placed his gloveless palm flat on the sub-zero floor, and pulled. Another few inches closer to his friends.

  Let them still be alive, please. Let Mina wake up so she can teleport the others to safety.

  His outstretched fingers reached the freezing metal rail, and he used it to pull himself forward a little further.

  I’m a fool. I believed Cross when he said there was a null-field. I saw him throw that piece of ice at the field and it disappeared, but that must have been a trick. A hologram, maybe. I should have tested it myself. But I was scared—I knew what a null-field could do so I allowed my fear to control me.

  All of this is my fault.

  He heard voices from somewhere above, but couldn’t raise his head to look. He stretched out his hand again. Another few inches. The tarpaulin covering Colin and Mina was only four or five feet away now.

  The voices came closer, three people talking, and they all sounded like Colin.

  Then one of the clone’s voices echoed loud around the hangar. “Look at that. He is still alive.”

  “All that blood. I’m not cleaning it up.”

  “Me either.”

  Danny saw three pairs of boots land side-by-side in front of him.

  “What do you reckon he thinks he’s doing?”

  “Getting to the girl and Wagner.” The clone dropped to his hands and knees in front of Danny, and lowered his head, peering right into Danny’s face. “That what you’re doing? Man, your face is a mess, Cooper.”

  The clone got to his feet, and said to his brothers, “Hey, check this out. This’ll be funny.”

  They moved out of Danny’s field of vision, but he didn’t care. He stretched his arm out once more, and his fingertips touched the edge of the tarpaulin.

  Then he felt strong hands around his ankles, and he was being dragged back across the floor, over the metal rail, back toward the wall.

  His ankles were let go, and his feet thudded against the ground, sending a fresh shockwave of pain shuddering through his body.

  The clones laughed. “Aw, and he was so close!”

  Danny stretched out his arm again, pulled himself forward another few inches.

  Chapter 33

  Stephanie Cord wondered what her father would have done in a situation like this, if he was being chased back and forth across the top of a glacier by two superhuman clones who just would not give up.

  Dad would have used his grappling gun or found some other weapon, and he’d have faced them, not run away.

  Stephanie didn’t feel that taking on the clones head-on would be a wise move.

  Fuel’s running low. What do I do? If only there was somewhere I could hide from them for more than a couple of seconds!

  But this was the Arctic, in summer, which meant few hiding places, and no true darkness at night.

  Then she passed over a dark shape on the ground, a large irregular patch of red and black, and it took her a few seconds to realize that it was Warwick, the clone Renata had encountered first. Well, he’s dead.

  She zoomed away in a wide curve, and the pursuing clones followed.

  They must be getting tired, she thought. They seemed to be a lot faster earlier.

  Ahead and to her left was a large cluster of twenty-foot-high boulders, scattered like giant marbles spilled from a bag, and Stephanie steered toward them. She zoomed around to the far side of the closest boulder and immediately slowed to a stop and dropped
to the ground.

  Seconds later the clones came charging after her. Looking up, she saw one indicate to the other that they should split up to search.

  As soon as they were out of sight, she reactivated her jetpack—the fuel-gauge was now worryingly close to the red line—and raced back the way she had come, flying no more than a yard above the ice.

  When she was close to Warwick she shut off the jetpack and allowed her momentum to carry her forward, dropping lower and lower, until she skidded to a stop right beside his body. She tried not to look at his face—it was like seeing Colin dead. She knew she was going to have nightmares about this for a long time, if she lived.

  The clone was on his back, frosted-over eyes staring up at nothing, covered in a mess of his own blood and gore. She didn’t feel anything for him that resembled pity, but she wasn’t sure whether that was because he—or one of his brothers—had murdered Butler Redmond, or because she found it hard to think of them as real people.

  As she slid her metal-gloved hands under Warwick’s broken, frozen body, she realized that wasn’t a fair thought. Mina was a clone, and she was definitely a real person.

  Come on, move faster!

  Renata had hit Warwick so hard, and so often, that he had been forced down into the densely-packed snow, creating a body-shaped depression. He was frozen to the ground, glued down by ice-blood, and it took all of her strength to roll him onto his side.

  They’ll be back here any second! Move!

  When she’d raised the clone’s body high enough, she slipped into the shallow depression and let the body collapse back on top of her.

  Less than five seconds later, she hears her pursuers coming back, searching for her.

  She hoped they wouldn’t want to look too closely at the body of their dead brother.

  Brawn was sure his left wrist was broken. Fractured at the very least. The clones had dropped him onto the ice from a height of at least a hundred feet.

  He’d landed on the sloping side of a shallow crevasse which slowed him down enough that the fall didn’t kill him, but it had still hurt.

  He stooped to pick up another chunk of his ruined armor. This one was the cuff of his left glove, crushed and torn beyond usefulness. He threw it aside and kept walking.

  So far, the only intact piece of armor he’d found was his left boot. He felt almost foolish trudging across the frozen landscape wearing only his shorts and a single boot, but that was still better than shorts and no boot.

  He was, in a way, thankful that the clones had torn off his armor as they carried him away from the base, because the chunks of discarded metal were a trail for him to follow back.

  The next piece he found was his chest-plate. It, too, had been badly warped, the lower edge torn and jagged, but the shoulder straps were still intact, so he put it on anyway. It was icy to the touch and made him feel even colder than not wearing it. It’ll warm up soon, he told himself, more out of hope than faith.

  So now I’ve visited both ends of the Earth, he thought. Not many people can say that. Or would want to.

  The Antarctic had seemed a lot warmer, a quarter of a century ago. But Brawn had been superhuman then, his skin almost impervious to the cold. Now, his fingers and toes were numb, and he was trying not to breathe too much because the freezing air tore at his lungs and threatened to bring about a coughing fit.

  Keep going, man. You did it before, and you were only a kid. You walked hundreds of miles across the Antarctic in the worst blizzard the continent had seen for years. You can do this.

  Something small and dark ahead caught his attention. His helmet. He broke into a run and scooped it up. It seemed to be mostly intact, but the visor had been shattered. He put in on anyway, hoping it would stop his ears from getting frost-bite.

  Then something else caught his eye: something moving on the horizon.

  He realized too late what it was: two of the clones, zipping back and forth, searching for something or someone.

  Before he could find a hiding place, they spotted him, came zooming toward him.

  Oh man… They’re really going to finish me this time.

  Heck with that attitude, Gethin! You held your own against Krodin, and Daedalus. In New York you defeated six of the most powerful superheroes single-handed. You can take these two little punks!

  Just need to focus. When you haven’t got a weapon, what do you do? Find one.

  Or make one.

  He slipped the chest-plate’s straps from around his shoulders, gripped them with his right hand, holding the chest-plate in front of him like a shield.

  One of the clones took the lead, putting on a burst of speed. He dropped to a height of eight feet, increased his speed again, came thundering toward Brawn with enough force to plow through a mountain.

  Brawn crouched a little, braced himself with his left leg behind him and all his weight on it. He kept his make-shift shield in front.

  The clone showed no signs of slowing down.

  A fraction of a second before the clone crashed into him, Brawn dropped to his knees and slammed the shield at his attacker. The torn, jagged edge of the chest-plate caught the clone under his chin, and Brawn held tight as the clone passed overhead

  The jagged edge bit deep, raking along the clone’s body, tearing open his skin from his neck to the pit of his stomach.

  The clone’s screams echoed across the barren landscape, stopping only when he crashed to the ground far behind Brawn.

  Victor returned to the hangar to see three of the clones watching Daniel Cooper feebly attempt to crawl across the floor to his friends. “What’s this?”

  Eldon looked up at him. “We’re taking bets on how far he gets before he passes out again. Or dies.”

  “Go find Laurie. Tell him to get the medical kit. There are five syringes of morphine. We need it to ease Danny’s pain. You two, help him up. Lift him onto the chair. And be gentle.”

  When they had lowered Danny into the chair, Victor said, “Brawn and Stephanie Cord are outside doing serious damage to your brothers. Deal with them. But find Shadow first. If he’s alive, bring him in.”

  Victor hunkered down in front of Danny, and showed him the Extractor. “Danny… This is your last chance to save the human race. You know what I want. Visualize Krodin’s time-line. Concentrate on it. Reach back… Follow that time-line, trace it from the present into the past. Right back to when he was taken by The Helotry. The stories say that it looked like he was consumed in a pillar of fire. You have to prevent that from happening.”

  His voice barely a whisper, Danny said, “Can’t.”

  “You can. You already have changed the past, Danny. I clearly recall activating the null-field, we both saw it in operation, but somehow it was never switched on. You did that. Now... Krodin’s time-line. You can do it.”

  “Hurts too much… can’t reach back.”

  Cross jumped to his feet and yelled, “Laurie!” To Danny he said, “Concentrate… I’ll get the morphine. You won’t be in any pain. You can… Look, just stay alive!” Cross ran from the room.

  In the cockpit of the ChampionShip, Stephanie leaned over the pilot’s chair as she desperately tried to get the radio to work. “Sakkara, come in. We need help!” The only reply was static. She switched to the emergency channel. “Anybody… Mayday, mayday. This is an emergency!” Again, only static.

  Stephanie stepped back from the cockpit.

  I’m the last one standing. I could take the ship and get out of here… And then die anyway when the missile detonates.

  She dropped into the pilot’s chair and unlocked the controls. The constant hum from the engines increased a notch as she guided the ship high into the air, away from Cross’s base.

  Brawn clutched the wounded clone tight to his chest, one arm around his neck, the other pressing on the side of his head.

  In front of them, the other clone was hovering.

  “Just one push,” Brawn said. “And his neck is broken. He’s already cut up pretty
badly, so don’t think you can get around this by waiting for me to succumb to the cold. He’ll die before I do. What’s your name?”

  “Oscar.”

  “Well, Oscar, your little buddy here is bleeding to death. I don’t mind that because you all deserve it, and because his blood is hot. But I’m sure your boss wouldn’t be happy to lose another one of his pets. So back off.” He took a step forward, and the clone backed away.

  “Good boy. We’re going back to your base now. You can kill me there instead, where it’s warm.”

  Danny raised his head a little as Victor Cross slowly walked back to him.

  When Cross had left the room, Danny had tried to wake Colin and Mina by nudging them with his feet. Colin had stirred once, but remained unconscious.

  “Uh… Bit of bad news on two fronts,” Cross said. “You’re going to have to ride out the pain unaided, because there’s no morphine. My colleague Mister Laurie has used it all.” Cross fell silent for a moment. “Pity. I was getting used to having him around. And he would have liked what’s coming next.”

  “D… D…?” Danny tried to ask.

  “Dead? Yes, he is. Injected himself with all five syringes. Which is quite an impressive feat when you think about it because after the first couple he should have been so spaced-out he wouldn’t have the strength or the interest to use the rest of them.” Cross looked down at his feet, and again fell silent.

  He’s upset because his friend killed himself, Danny thought. Maybe he’s not completely inhuman after all. Maybe I can use that to—

  Cross raised his head again, smiling. “Ah, got it. He inserted each syringe one at a time but didn’t press its plunger. Then when they were all in, he pressed all the plungers at once. Another mystery solved. So, Danny… Time for you to get to work.” He knelt down in front of Danny. “Concentrate.”

  I’ll concentrate all right, but I’m not going to do what you want. Danny fought to ignore the pain in his broken jaw as he allowed his sense of time to expand.