The New Heroes: Crossfire

by Michael Carroll

  She was fifty yards away when she saw the cracks radiating from the circular opening.

  Forty yards away when the edges began to crumble.

  Thirty yards away when the entire hangar roof collapsed in a blinding cloud of snow and ice.

  Brawn yelled, “Come on, Cross! You can do it!”

  “Shut up! I’m working as fast as I can!”

  Brawn pressed his forehead against the fractured canopy and looked in. Cross had stripped the torn wires from the ruined joystick and was desperately trying to jury-rig a way to control the plane.

  “You’re supposed to be a genius—get it done!”

  “Almost… Hold on…”

  Brawn watched as Cross twisted wires together, pulled others free and strung them from one instrument to another.

  The plane banked abruptly to the left, and Brawn felt his grip begin to weaken.

  “We’re both gonna die if you can’t do it!”

  “I said shut up! I don’t work well under pressure!”

  “Learn!”

  Something sparked inside the cockpit, and Cross yelled, “Got it! I can only control the altitude but—”

  “Set us down!”

  The plane began to descend.

  “I don’t know where we are, where we’re going to end up,” Cross said.

  “Who cares, as long as we don’t end up flat! Not that it’s going to make much difference, when your missile lands.”

  “It’s not a missile,” Cross yelled back. “It’s a rocket.”

  Brawn paused. “What?”

  Stephanie backed away from the slowly crumbling edge of the crater, staring down at the devastation. As she watched, thousands of tons of ice slowly collapsed down on Cross’s base, crushing everything. Shards of ice as large as ocean-liners crashed and shifted against each other with deafening cracks and booms.

  I was too late. Too slow. I should have got Colin out first. I should have left the clones to the end.

  Another chunk of ice broke off from the edge, and she took a step back.

  “Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

  She turned to see Colin standing behind her.

  “Man, I thought it was cold in there. Out here? Wow.”

  “I thought you were dead!”

  Colin shrugged. “I climbed out.”

  “What? How?”

  “There were all these chains hanging down from the ceiling. Remember when your dad was teaching us to climb the ropes in the gym? I guess I must have learned something from that.”

  She rushed at him, pulled him close. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

  “Ow, Steph, your armor’s cold. We should get out of here. Where did you bring the others?”

  Stephanie pointed to the north. “That way. We have to walk, though—my fuel’s gone. Hold my hand. Don’t let go.”

  “Will do,” Colin said, smiling. “I don’t want to ever let go.”

  Chapter 36

  “You have been found guilty by a jury of your peers of committing heinous crimes so numerous that a complete list would keep us here for several more days. Do you have anything to say to the court before I pass sentence?”

  “I do,” Victor Cross said, looking around the court room. “I can’t have been found guilty by a jury of my peers because I don’t have any peers. Everyone in this room is a moron compared to me.” He looked at the judge. “You especially.”

  “Are you done?” The judge asked.

  “Actually, no. What you people fail to understand is that—”

  “You’re done.”

  “No, I—”

  “Bailiff, if the defendant speaks again, you have the permission of the court to silence him in any manner that pleases you. Victor Cross, I sentence you to a term of not less than four thousand years penal servitude, without the possibility of parole. You will spend this time in solitary confinement, without access to any form of technology more advanced than a butter-knife. A plastic one. Take him away.”

  The New Heroes gathered in Sakkara for what Colin knew would be the last time in a long while. They were in the gymnasium, where Brawn was packing away the last of his few belongings.

  Danny walked up to Colin. His neck was in a brace, and there was a line of fresh stitches along his jaw. “You OK?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I’ve been better.” He grinned. “Ow. Hey, we get to have normal lives for a while, until our powers come back. That’ll be interesting.”

  “How are the new teeth settling in?”

  “They feel really, really weird! But considering the alternative, I’m OK with that.”

  They walked over to Brawn. “Where are you going to go?” Colin asked.

  “Home, first, to see my ma. Visit my dad’s grave. Then…” he shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m thinking I might go back to school.”

  “Well, that sounds like fun.”

  “Yeah. Just hope I don’t get bullied.”

  Danny laughed and then said “Ow!” and clutched at his jaw.

  Brawn said, “And let’s hope that all the bad guys don’t find out that you kids are powerless now. Still,” the giant added, shrugging, “we saved the day. Stephanie knocked Cross’s missile off-course and out into space, and the world was saved. Well, I say ‘missile’ but Cross insisted that it was a rocket.”

  “Same thing,” Danny said.

  Colin frowned. “Yeah, I guess.” He looked up as someone approached. “Hey, Raze. We’re gonna need a whole new bunch of armor until we get our powers back.”

  Razor gave him a thin-lipped smile, and said, “I know. But someone else is going to have to make it. I’m leaving.”

  Brawn said, “Ah, you’re always leaving.”

  “This time I mean it.” He patted the bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m all packed and there’s a copter on the roof waiting for me. I’m going in, like, two minutes. I’ve done my bit, guys.” He tilted his head toward the door. “C’mon, walk me up.”

  They started for the door, then Razor turned back to face Brawn. “Sorry, big guy. Forgot you can’t come this way.”

  “That’s OK,” Brawn said. His giant hand completely swallowed Razor’s as they shook. “It’s been an honor. I’ll see you again, right? We’ll have a big reunion, or something.”

  “Count on it. Take it easy, man,” Razor said as he walked backward toward the door.

  In the corridor, Danny said, “Razor, you could take your mother to the Substation and both of you could live there. That way you could still work for us.”

  “That’s what your dad suggested, but, nah, I don’t think so. I helped save the world, now I have to go do my own thing. I’ve got a job lined up.”

  “You? A job? Really?” Colin asked.

  “Yep. At the runaways’ shelter in Jacksonville. They’ve got an opening. It doesn’t pay much, but… Hey, even ten bucks a week would pay better than this place!”

  As they emerged onto the roof, Razor paused. “Aw, what’s this?” A small crowd was clustered around the waiting copter.

  Warren Wagner approached him, shook his hand. “Good luck. You drove me crazy half the time, but we’ll miss you. Caroline said to give you her love. You ever need us, just call. Oh, and Josh Dalton told me to tell you that when you get to Jacksonville, you’re to check your bank account.”

  Razor frowned. “Bank account? I don’t have a bank account.”

  “Seems you do now,” Façade said, patting Razor on the shoulder. “Looks like you got paid after all.”

  Then the hugs came: Renata first, then Stephanie, Alia, Kenya and—deliberately holding back to the end—Cassandra.

  Grant threw Razor a clumsy salute, and grinned. “I owe you one, Razor. If it wasn’t for your armor, I’d never have made it.”

  Renata said, “We all owe you. The whole world owes you.”

  Razor turned in a slow circle, then looked at Colin. “Lance?”

  “Sent his apologies. Said he had something to do. But he’ll be in
touch.”

  Razor nodded. “All right.” He gave Danny a friendly punch in the chest. “You look after Renata, OK? If you don’t…”

  “I will.”

  “And I want an invite to the wedding.”

  Renata blushed and glared at Razor, and Danny blurted, “What? Now wait a second…”

  Razor laughed and threw his bag into the copter, then reached out his hand to shake Colin’s. “Take care, little buddy. I mean it.”

  “You too,” Colin said. He looked down at their clasped hands. “Hey, remember the day we met?”

  Razor laughed again. “Yeah. Seems like a lifetime ago.”

  They both grinned. Razor let go of Colin’s hand, hesitated for a second, then pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Colin’s shoulders. “Never had a real brother, but if I had…” He slapped Colin’s back twice, and stepped away.

  Façade climbed past Razor into the copter. “All right, enough with the good-byes. Daylight’s wasting, kid. Let’s go.”

  Razor nodded to Colin one last time, then jumped up into the copter. “Hey, can I fly it?”

  From the cockpit, Façade’s voice floated back, “Can you fly a copter?”

  Razor replied, “I don’t know—I never tried.”

  The crowd stepped back as the copter’s engine whined and the rotors began to turn.

  All too soon, the copter lurched into the air, and within minutes it was nothing but a dot on the horizon.

  Lance McKendrick stood in front of Victor Cross’s impenetrable prison cell, a perfect cube four yards long on each side, made of eighteen-inch-thick transparent aluminum. The cell was situated in the center of the Cloister’s courtyard: Cross could be seen at all times.

  The only gap in the walls was a four-inch diameter hole, set close to the floor, through which the guards could pass Cross’s food and water, and he could pass back the small waste-bucket. On hot days, with the sun baking down on the cell, Cross could be found lying on the floor, his face pressed against the hole, gasping for breath.

  Victor walked up to the glass wall, and stared out. “Knew you’d come, McKendrick.”

  “Of course you did. You know everything. You’re a genius.” Lance tapped on the glass. “How’s that working out for you?”

  “It’s not over. You think you’ve won, but I’m playing the long game.”

  Lance began to walk around the cube, peering in at Victor as he did so. “Just tell me, then. What is your ultimate goal? What do you want, Victor?”

  “What do you think I want?”

  “You want to be the best. The smartest. And you want everyone to acknowledge that.” Lance pulled a thick-nibbed marker from his inside jacket pocket, and began to write on the cell’s glass wall. “And I thought I had an ego problem. Your actions killed almost a million people, harmed countless others, threatened to wipe out all life on the planet... why?”

  “Now, Lance, you know by now that the supervolcano thing was a ruse.”

  “I figured that,” Lance said, nodding. “Something to keep the New Heroes away from your rocket. They couldn’t risk getting close to it in case it detonated. A deterrent designed to buy you enough time to persuade Danny Cooper to change the past. But even on the edge of death, Danny’s will was too strong for you. You failed.” Lance stepped back from Cross’s transparent prison, and admired his work. In large, neat letters he had written, “Idiot In A Box.”

  “There’s always a back-up plan.”

  “And what is that?” Lance asked.

  Cross grinned. “I could tell you, but I really don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

  Epilogue 1

  Four months after the trial of Victor Cross...

  Shadow fixed the mask to his face and unsealed the hatch, then stepped out onto the almost airless desert. Overhead, the sun was small in the orange-tinted sky.

  His boots kicked up brown dust as he walked toward the thin, bronze-skinned man sitting cross-legged on a large flat rock.

  In the ancient language the ship’s computer had taught him, Shadow said, “I’m a friend. I’ve come to take you back to Earth.”

  The warrior stood. He arched his back and flexed his muscles. “What is your name, boy?”

  “They call me Shadow.”

  “Shadow. I like that. My name is Krodin.” Then he nodded. “I knew. I knew that this was not the Earth. This is another place. Another world.”

  “And another time,” Shadow said. “Four and a half thousand years since you were taken from Alexandria.”

  “Alexandria… Where once I ruled.” They began to walk back toward the craft. “And I will rule again. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.”

  Epilogue 2

  One year after the trial of Victor Cross...

  Kenya Cho raced through the burning forest, her tears carving paths in the dirt and soot that covered her scarred face. She was almost thankful for the fires: the flames illuminated the thick clouds of smoke, throwing back enough light that it almost compensated for her poor night-vision.

  The soldiers were close behind her. A whole Viper squadron. They were hunter-killers, given full authority to use any means necessary to stop the rebels. Somehow they had learned where Kenya’s people were hiding, and rather than waste time tracking them down, the Vipers had chosen to burn them out.

  I’m not going to make it, Kenya thought. They’re driving me this way because they have someone waiting at the other end!

  Ahead, the flickering light of the fires showed a small crevasse in her path. Kenya increased her speed and jumped. She somersaulted in the air, silently landed in a crouch in a small clearing, rolled onto her feet and kept going.

  “Sarge, I see her!” A voice called out from her left.

  “Don’t move!” A second voice yelled. “You move, you die!”

  A black-clad soldier threw himself at her, and Kenya dodged to the side then slammed her elbow into the back of his neck as he passed her. The soldier’s gun flew from his hand: Kenya threw herself after it—and was within inches of grabbing it when a large, thick-soled boot kicked it away.

  They were on her in seconds, grabbing her legs, dragging her back to the clearing.

  “Get her on her feet!”

  One of the soldiers grabbed hold of Kenya’s hair and hauled her upright.

  “Resisting arrest.” A man with sergeant’s stripes on his uniform stepped up to her, and Kenya flinched.

  No, not him!

  Sergeant Antonio Lashley grabbed Kenya’s chin with a leather-gloved hand and roughly pushed her head back. “Now that’s a nice find. Kenya Cho. Well, we got your pals. Every one of them. They’re dead. We gave them a chance to surrender, but they figured resistance was the best option. When are you freaks gonna learn? You don’t resist us. If you resist, you die.”

  “You can’t do this! This is America!”

  “Not any more. America was just an idea—and it’s an idea that’s gone now, wiped out just like half the planet.” Sergeant Lashley pointed to the symbol on his shoulder; a blue eye inside a golden sun. “What’s left of the Earth belongs to Krodin.”

  “We’ll stop you!”

  He planted his out-spread hand on her face and pushed her back—two of the soldiers caught her arms and dragged her forward again. “Pathetic,” Lashley said. “There are so few of you punks left we could waste the lot of you with one clip!”

  Kenya glared at him, her teeth gritted. “Someone will stop you.”

  The sergeant laughed. “Who? There are no more heroes. There’s just us.” To his men, he said, “Take her. Find out everything she knows before you kill her. She was working with Cooper’s cell; hurt her until she talks. Then keep hurting her. Record everything. Cross is going to want to see it. Maybe she’ll tell us what we need to get the rest of these rats out of their tunnels and into the open.” He looked around. “The rest of you stay sharp. There could be more of them about.”

  The soldiers marched away, dragging h
er backwards over the rough, cinder-strewn ground. She looked up to see the sergeant smirking at her.

  “Someone will stop us. Hah. Good one,” Lashley yelled after her. “You so-called New Heroes are only making things worse for everyone. When are you going to accept that Krodin is the only power now?”

  And then the soldiers dragging her suddenly stopped. The sergeant was staring at something beyond her.

  With some effort, Kenya twisted her head around to look.

  Fifteen yards away, the air was glowing. A sphere of orange light. It flared briefly, and disgorged a human figure onto the ground before it faded.

  Lashley rushed over, stopped when he was next to Kenya. “What the…?”

  The figure straightened up, silhouetted against the burning forest.

  Kenya squinted, trying to make out the features. The flickering firelight showed a polished steel helmet, metal gauntlets, a glimpse of sweat beading on dark-brown skin.

  The sergeant yelled, “Open fire!”

  The soldiers let go of Kenya to use their guns. She ducked down, and ran.

  The gunfire was quickly replaced with screams, then Lashley yelled, “You? That’s not possible—you’re dead!”

  A final, brief scream, then silence.

  Kenya knew she should run and keep running, but something drew her back to the clearing. She crept slowly, silently, through the smoldering forest, and saw the strange warrior crouched among the dead bodies of the Viper squadron.

  On the ground, not more than a yard away from Kenya’s feet, Sergeant Antonio Lashley stared at her through dead eyes. The rest of his body was quite a distance from his head.

  The armored warrior straightened up, and slowly looked around.

  Who is that? Kenya asked herself. The armor wasn’t familiar—it seemed cruder, less advanced than the armor worn by the members of Team Paragon.

  Every other superhero—powered or otherwise—was either dead, imprisoned, or a long way from here.

  But I know them all… So that means … Kenya could hardly bring herself to even entertain the thought. No. It’s impossible.