“Hunter? You there?”
“I’m here, Cam.” Lance changed direction, heading back toward his bike at the gate. “Get all the eyes you can on Pittsburgh. And I want a complete list of everyone involved.”
“Hunter, you’re not getting it. When I say Max called in everyone, I mean everyone! The only one who’s not there yet is Thunder, and I know he’s on the way. And pretty much all the bad guys are there too. Duval must have been coordinating with them for months.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You know? What are you talking about?”
“We knew it was happening soon, but didn’t know when. Cam, I don’t know how it’s going to affect people like you and me. We should be OK, but I can’t promise it.”
“Hunter, what is happening?”
Lance climbed onto his bike, and put the phone aside while he pulled on his helmet.
“Hunter?”
“I’m in Texas, Cam. West of Canyon. Send a copter to pick me up at the nearest airfield. I’m going to Pittsburgh.”
This is it, Lance thought. This is where everything ends.
Or begins.
THE AIR THICK WITH ACRID SMOKE, Lance made his way carefully through the burning debris. Far ahead of him, two U.S. Army soldiers were crouched on the ground, and as he neared them he could see that they were examining a body.
One of the soldiers looked up as Lance approached, his hand automatically going to the sidearm on his hip. “Identify yourself!”
Lance ignored him and kept walking toward them.
The soldiers were on their feet now, both with their weapons drawn and aimed at him. “I said, identify yourself!”
“Talk to General Piers,” Lance said, still staring at the body. “My name is Hunter Washington.”
One soldier said to the other, “Watch him,” then began rapidly speaking into his walkie-talkie. After a few seconds he put the walkie-talkie away. “Sorry, sir. It’s a restricted area and—”
“That’s OK, soldier,” Lance said. “Stand down. Nothing you can do here now, but there’s a lot of injured back there who need your help.”
The soldiers saluted and took a last look at the body before they strode away.
When they were gone, Lance crouched down next to the corpse. “You idiot. All your intelligence, all your knowledge . . . all those plans. And in the end, you just couldn’t handle defeat, could you, Casey?”
Lance sat down cross-legged in the mud. He felt like he wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. “You chose to kill yourself rather than be captured. That was the best option you could think of? Really?”
He smiled to himself, and shook his head. “Great. I’m talking to a corpse.”
Lance heard a jeep approaching. He stood up and brushed the mud from the seat of his pants. “You could have ruled the world, Casey, if you’d been willing to compromise, if you’d been able to set aside your ego and work with Max instead of against him. And he was just as bad. Both of you always had to do things your own way.”
The jeep came to a stop, and Paragon climbed out of the passenger seat. He told the driver to move on, and when it had left, he stood next to Lance, looking down at the broken body of Casey Duval.
“You OK, Sol?” Lance asked.
“Yeah. Didn’t think it would end like this, though. You heard about what I found at Casey’s apartment?”
“Yeah. That’s . . . That’s going to be a tricky one to sort out. The general still strutting around back there like he’s in charge?”
Cord nodded. “He’s loving this.” He glanced back the way he had come. “You know they got Brawn, right? And he’s still blue, still a giant. Thought he would . . .” He shrugged. “The important thing is that he’s surrendered. You want to see him?”
“I do, but not now. I’ve already talked to General Piers about keeping him out of prison, but there’s only so much I can do. Brawn sided with Casey—he has to deal with the consequences of that decision.”
Cord removed his helmet and ran his gloved hand over his head. “Even if this isn’t all over, I’m done, Lance. I’m retiring.”
“Good. You can come work for me.”
“No. I’m out. I’ve got the girls to think of, and Vienna. She’s lost her sister, almost lost me a couple of times. I’m not putting her through anything like that again. We’re going to move away, raise the twins just like any ordinary family. What about you, though? What are you going to do?”
“I have plans. First, my people have to work with Piers and Max to get this whole mess cleaned up.”
They turned away and began to walk back across the field.
Cord asked, “So, is it all over?”
“I don’t know. Casey was the only one who truly understood how the superhuman powers worked, but he pretty much kept all that to himself. We’ll raid his bases, extract every bit of data we can from his computers, but I don’t expect we’re going to find much.”
Lance looked back toward Casey’s body one last time. “Killed himself.” He shook his head. “What a waste.”
“I don’t get why he did that,” Cord said. “With the brains he had, I doubt there’s a prison on the planet that could hold him for long.”
“It bothers me that maybe he didn’t kill himself because he lost. Not directly. Maybe he did it because he knew what losing this battle meant in the long run. Everything he did was for one purpose, to put the human race on a specific path for the future. And when he knew that was no longer possible . . . He didn’t want to live in that future.”
“That’s a scary thought. What could be so bad that someone like him would take his own life rather than face it?”
“There’s only one way to find out. Let the future come, and deal with it when it happens.”
Cord nodded. “I guess. But in the meantime—and this is the most important thing in the world, Lance—in the meantime, we live.”
A WEEK LATER, in one of Max Dalton’s many offices in Manhattan, Lance arrived to see that the conference room was full. He recognized everyone present, but acted as though he had no idea who they were.
Max greeted him at the door. “Thanks for coming, Hunter. Everyone, you all know Hunter Washington. Some of you know him by a different name, but that’s in the past. Like so much else. Hunter?”
Lance walked farther into the room. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your powers are gone. Probably forever. You’re not superhuman anymore. The machine at the heart of Ragnarök’s battle-tank was designed to siphon off the energy that made you superhuman. He wanted that energy for himself, to boost his own abilities. He believed he was shielded against the machine’s effects, but that didn’t work, for whatever reason.”
One of the women—Lance recognized her as Energy—said, “We should take a moment. For Thalamus and Apex. And that girl who’s frozen.”
“Diamond,” Max said. “I’ll look after her. There could be a way to return her to normal. I’ll get my top people working on it.”
Roz Dalton asked, “And what about Thunder?”
Max said, “Thunder hasn’t been confirmed dead. We know he was involved in a situation with The Shark when the machine was activated. They were somewhere over the Atlantic. Until we find a body, I’m assuming that Thunder’s still alive.”
Solomon Cord said, “Did any of you superhumans come through this with your powers intact?”
The only answer was silence.
A tall man, whom Lance knew to be Titan, asked, “Then what about the others? The villains?”
“Their powers are gone too. And they’re being taken care of,” Lance said. “They’re on the way to a secure facility where they’ll be held until we can figure out exactly what to do with them.”
“Where, exactly? The Cloister?”
“Some of them will be held in The Cloister, yes. The rest are goi
ng someplace else. The fewer people who know the location, the safer it’ll be for everyone.”
“The age of the superhumans is over,” Max said. “We have to face that. We’re ordinary people now, and it’s going to take some time to adjust to that.”
Energy asked, “So what do we do? Do we tell the public the truth?”
Lance said, “No. Say nothing. All everyone knows is that there was a battle, and you were all involved. If word gets out that you’ve lost your powers, you’ll become targets for everyone you’ve ever crossed. And so will your families and friends. So you’ll go back to your lives and pretend that none of this ever happened. My people will work with Max’s to arrange everything.”
“It’s best if you all keep your mouths shut,” Max said. “Seriously, no getting drunk in a bar and boasting about how you used to be a superhero. It never happened.”
Titan asked, “What about you guys, Max? Most of us have secret identities to hide behind, but you’ve never hidden your abilities. You can’t just disappear like the rest of us.”
“I know. That’s going to be a tricky one.”
“You weren’t there,” Lance said. “You and Roz and Josh weren’t at the battle. I know there’s security footage of you being there, but we edit that. Your people can supply evidence that proves none of you were in Pittsburgh that day. So all the public needs to know is that everyone involved in the battle simply disappeared. It’s better that way. It means that the people will still have hope that one day you’ll come back.”
Roz said, “Lan— I mean, Hunter. There’s still the problem of what we do about our powers. We can’t just tell people that we’re normal now. That’ll bring up too many questions.”
“There’s going to be a lot of questions anyway. I recommend that the three of you announce your retirement from superhuman activities,” Lance said. “Tell everyone that you’re doing it in honor of your missing comrades. Besides, as far as the public knows, all the villains have gone too, so there’s really no one left to fight.”
The meeting broke up shortly afterward, and as the others were leaving, Max took Lance aside. “We did the right thing, didn’t we?”
“I don’t think we’re going to know that for a long time.” Lance paused. He couldn’t help staring at Max, thinking, You can’t read my thoughts anymore. I’m free of you. I still have all my skills and now you’re just a has-been. He realized that his hands were clenched into fists, and he forced himself to relax. “I saw Quantum hiding in the back. He looks stronger than he did last time I saw him. A little more confident. Is he going to be all right?”
“I think so. When the power left him so did the visions. It’ll take him some time to recover, but I think he’ll be OK. He’s flying home today.”
“How’s his wife taking it?”
“Oh, she’s relieved. She never liked the idea of him being a superhero. She was always worried what might happen if their son found out.”
“And how are you holding up? What’s it like not being able to read people’s minds anymore?”
Max gave him a weak smile. “It’s quiet, Lance. Very quiet.”
“Yeah? Well, let’s keep our fingers crossed that everything stays that way.”
• • •
The woman was sitting on her bunk, and raised her head slightly as Lance approached, just enough for him to see her eyes. “What is this place?”
“It’s called The Cloister,” Lance said. “Don’t ask me where it’s located, because I won’t tell you. And most of the people working here don’t know either.”
The woman was in a concrete cell, ten feet to a side, behind an eighteen-inch-thick wall of unbreakable glass.
“I’ll get out. And when I do, you’re dead.”
Lance shook his head slowly. “Not this time, Slaughter. Your powers are gone. Doctor Platt has confirmed it. You’re no stronger than the average woman now.”
“So who are you and what do you want?”
“What I want is to talk to you. I want to know what has made you the way you are. You’re a stone-cold killer. You don’t care who gets in your way, and you’re not afraid of anything. Why? How can you be so inhuman?”
“I’m not human.”
“Yes, you are,” Lance said. “You have to understand that. You are no longer superhuman. What does that mean to you, to know that I could beat you in a fight?”
She smirked. “You? What a joke.”
“It’s true, I promise. You’ve had enhanced strength ever since your powers developed. You’ve never had to work out. And the speed and fury with which you fought meant you never had to learn any skills. But I’ve never been superhuman. I work out, I’ve studied martial arts, and believe me, I know how to fight dirty. So if you were somehow able to break out, you wouldn’t stand a chance. How does that make you feel, Slaughter, to be the weak one after all this time?”
Her only response was a shrug.
“So it doesn’t bother you. Not now. But it will, Slaughter. In time, it’ll eat away at you until you finally accept that your fury has turned to futility. You are over. You’re done. No more Slaughter. Now you’re just Suzanne Housten.”
“And that pleases you, does it?”
“The only person on the entire planet who’s upset that you’ve been captured is you. Even your former allies despised you. Think about that. Seven billion people on one side, you alone on the other. Who’s right? You or everyone else?”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Lance McKendrick. I can see that means nothing to you. Thirteen years ago you killed my mother, my father, and my brother. All because you were angry that my friends and I had upset your plan for Krodin, and I was the only one whose name you knew.”
“Ah, yes, I remember you now. You, Dalton’s sister, Brawn, and two others.”
“Thunder and Hesperus.”
“You were just children.”
“And we still beat you. So you murdered my family.”
Slaughter nodded slowly. “I remember. They died quickly. So is that why you’re here? To gloat? To declare that, at long last, revenge is yours?”
“I’m here to try to understand you. So, please, tell me. Why? Can’t you understand that murder is wrong?”
“Of course. I know that it’s wrong. But what you fail to understand is that I don’t care. People are just animals who’ve learned to use tools, that’s all. Ants have been observed using tools, and the earth is home to more ants than humans. They contribute more to the ecosystem, and they understand that the survival of the colony is more important than the survival of the individual. In those respects, ants are better than humans. Why would I care what happens to a single ant? Or a single ordinary human?”
“Do you care about your own life?”
“Yes. I have no wish to die.”
“You’re an ordinary human now. You’re nothing special. Why is your ordinary human life more important than someone else’s?”
“Because it’s mine.”
Lance sighed. “I see. It’s going to take a smarter man than me to get through to you, isn’t it? I think we’re done here. But there is one thing I want to tell you before I go. And you should probably listen, because you’re not going to be receiving a lot of other visitors in the coming decades.”
“So what do you have to tell me, McKendrick? Some last-minute bon mot that will somehow make me see the light? Something that will leave me weeping with remorse?”
“Depends on how you want to look at it. You’re a wild animal, Slaughter. It took me a long time to understand that. You can’t control your nature. And because you can’t help what you are, it would be wrong of me to hate you for it. So I forgive you.”
She stared at him. “What? I killed your family with my bare hands, just out of pure spite, and you forgive me?”
“That’s right.”
Lance smiled. “No. It proves that we are strong.”
LANCE RETURNED to New York, and the following afternoon, as he left the Manhattan branch of the Deliverance organization, he met Roz Dalton waiting for him in the building’s lobby.
“You promised me cheesy fries,” Roz said.
“That was thirteen years ago, Roz.”
“I know, I’m starving. You got time to have lunch?”
“For you, sure. We can sit and chat and you can avoid telling me about a certain secret boyfriend of yours that you think no one knows about.”
Roz smiled. “But you know, of course.”
“I’ll say nothing to anyone, I promise. I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
They walked side by side toward Fifth Avenue, and as they passed a newsstand, Lance pointed to one of the newspapers. “Look at that: ‘The Mystery Deepens.’ This is going to be driving the conspiracy theorists crazy for years.”
“That’s probably for the best, I think.”
“So, did you miss me?” Lance asked.
“At first, yeah. I thought I might see you at Abby’s funeral.”
“I wanted to come back for that, but . . . Well, I knew Max would be there.”
“If Thunder is dead,” Roz began, and Lance noticed a slight catch in her voice, “then out of the old team there’s only you and me left. Abby’s gone, and Brawn’s probably going to be locked away for the rest of his life. I really thought we’d be able to persuade him to come back to us. But it’s far too late now. He chose the wrong side.”
“He chose the losing side.”
“You can’t possibly believe that Casey Duval was right! I mean, the man called himself Ragnarök—you know what that means?”
“I do. It means ‘Twilight of the Gods.’ The ancient Norse people believed that it would be the death of the old world and the rebirth of a newer, stronger world. All the old gods would die. That’s how Casey saw himself and the other superhumans. As gods, which is about as egotistical as you can get. But no, I don’t think either side was completely right or completely wrong. Max and Casey . . . They mostly wanted the same thing, to save the world. But good intentions are no guarantee of good results, especially with people who are too headstrong to listen to anyone else. What they should have done right at the start was sit down together and talk it out. Imagine what they could have accomplished. . . . But in the end, Max was willing to give a little. Casey wasn’t, and that’s why he’s dead. I know Max would never admit this, but both of them were trying to fill the void left by Krodin.”
Hunter (9780698158504) Page 27