Ex-Cape | Book 2 | Ex-Cape From A Small Town

by Wentzel, Daniel

  This was all assuming that the B team did its job and sent this station crashing to the center of Uranus. When Steelstrike looked up from the machine he was assembling, Etherya got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  “I have good news and bad news.” It sent a chill through everyone’s spine. “It looks like the timer got damaged in the fight. The good news is that this will still work, but the bad news is that I’m going to have to do it manually.”

  “Meaning we can’t get safely away from the bomb.” Zapp gave a worried glance around the room. “Can we make a timer out of some of this equipment?”

  The room was a control station for the environmental controls. It was essentially a thermostat on steroids. It also sat on top of the propulsion generators which were keeping the citadel upright.

  Steelstrike looked at the control panels and shook his head. “I don’t know how they wire this thing, or even if they use wires.”

  “I will stay. Tell me what button to press.” Grust held himself erect, proud to serve his compatriots thus.

  Gravel was having none of it. “I’ll do it. I can set off the machine and then hit them with a massive shock wave for good measure. We’d be doubly sure.”

  “And you’d be doubly dead,” Zapp pointed out. “Ya’ll will forgive me if I don’t hop on the noble sacrifice bandwagon, but I got a wife I intend to see for dinner tonight.”

  “Nobody’s dying. End of discussion.” Etherya glared at them. This was why she’d been put in charge of this team. “Steel, bring up that holo-map.”

  An image of light appeared from his wrist, indicating the structure, the room they were in, and the propulsion systems below them.

  Etherya studied it for a brief moment, then she turned and looked at the wall behind the main control panel. “If I’m reading this correctly, that wall is all that’s between us and open air, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I need three questions answered, boys. Zapp, can you get back to the ship on your own, like really fast?”

  “If I become pure lightning, I can be there in seconds.”

  “Gravel, do you have enough left to blow out this wall without putting yourself into a coma?”

  “Yeah, but we’re not going to be able to breathe out there. It’s hydrogen, helium, ammonia and methane. And freaking cold if I remember.”

  “Which is why Zapp is going to fly next to that wall and extend the shields out as much as possible. It should give us enough air to make the jump over to the ship, and Zapp can use the tractor beam to catch us.”

  “I like this plan.” Zapp moved as if to go, but Etherya stopped him with a gesture.

  “Last question, Steely. Can you put a delay on the big boom to give us time to get out?”

  “I can’t add a delay, but it will take about twenty seconds for the drills to burrow down into the propulsion generators.”

  “So we do the wall first, push the button, and then jump.” She turned to Zapp. “Let us know when you’re in position, and don’t get shot down.”

  Zapp saluted, threw open the door, and disappeared in a brilliant flash.

  Grust slammed his bulk against the door and held it fast. “I can hold this door until he returns.” No one had asked the question, and no one dared second guess him.

  Then they waited for two minutes and seventeen seconds. Or possibly a geological epoch, they were never really sure.

  “You reading me?”

  Etherya breathed out as she heard Zapp on the ship’s radio. “Yes. We’re ready.”

  “If you were serious about me not getting shot down, now would be a good time.”

  Gravel didn’t hesitate. He had already moved to the correct wall, and now he put his palms flat against it. There was a slight strain on his face, and then a section of the wall shattered like glass under his hands.

  Gravel slumped forward, clutching at his temples as the blackness of the atmosphere was suddenly all they could see. The lights from the ship were less than twenty feet away, but the blackness threatened to swallow them whole.

  “Grust, go!” Etherya pointed at Gravel, and the big mutant understood instantly. He picked up Gravel and tucked him under the lower left arm like a football. One almost casual leap took him into the open cargo bay of the ship.

  “Push it!” She bellowed to Steelstrike over the roar of the ship’s engines. He nodded, fiddled with something on the machine and then stood to go. He made it all of three steps before the floor beneath them lurched. It wasn’t the explosion. That was several seconds away yet. Apparently, the bomb had drilled straight through a power source for the propulsion system. If the whole thing wasn’t about to blow, odds were good that the error could be bypassed in a few short seconds.

  They didn’t have those seconds.

  With a rumble, the main terminal shifted away from the wall and slid across the room. It blocked off all but a tiny part of the hole Gravel had made. Their way out was gone.

  Time seemed to slow for Etherya. She could, she knew, escape with no problems. She could take a deep enough breath, close her eyes, and ghost through the terminal. It would be easy. She might end up with chemical burns from the atmosphere, but she was confident Zapp would get her on board the ship in only a few seconds.

  All she had to do was leave Steelstrike behind.

  She never knew exactly the extent of his battle armor. Maybe he had his own way to get through the terminal. Maybe he could do it before the explosion that was soon going to go off beneath his feet. Maybe. But she didn’t know.

  So she stopped thinking. Etherya ran up behind Steelstrike, shoved him against the terminal as hard as she possibly could and screamed into her communications device. “Stay close to the hole. We’re coming out!”

  Ghosting while carrying even her own clothing had taken weeks to master. She was trying to extend her intangibility to Steelstrike and his armor. The strain was enormous, and she wasn’t sure she could succeed. Some dim part of her mind registered that she only had seconds before the explosion.

  She didn’t know when she had succeeded. Her vision had gone black a few seconds earlier, and she didn’t realize that the blackness caused by nearly passing out had been replaced by simple darkness. It wasn’t until the tractor beam pulled her into the ship that she realized she could stop.

  She woke up in the infirmary at Defender Squad headquarters a day later. It was not until many years later that she realized that Steelstrike had never thanked her for that moment.

  Chapter Fifteen

  For all that Sean was a huge human being, he wasn’t wearing a metal powersuit with an undisclosed number of gadgets built into it. Sean’s overall mass was lower than Steelstrike’s had been, and, despite being a bit rusty with the use of her powers, extending her ghosting ability around him was easier this time.

  The first shot rang out. She felt the familiar tugging of the bullet a split second before it passed through her. Sean, not realizing what was happening, tried to push her away, but she clung desperately to him. If they separated, he was as good as dead.

  “Get down!” she hissed in his ear. It was only a half second before the second shot went off, but Sean had already dropped to a knee.

  She resolidified as they got below the level of the window, and three more shots rang out in quick succession. The Aerialist wasn’t tracking them, however, and Molly felt a sickening dampness splash across her face. She knew without looking that it was Stomper’s blood.

  Sean rolled off her as best as the limited space they had allowed. He drew his pistol and popped his head back up. His semiautomatic barked out four times. He had barely gotten under cover again when Molly heard the room’s door burst open. She recognized Tim’s steel toed shoes from her vantage point on the floor. He spread his legs into a shooter’s stance and fired three shots of his own.

  “Clear!” Tim bellowed.

  Sean scrambled to his feet. “Which way?”

  “Down and to the left. He flew into those pine
trees.”

  “Did you hit him?”

  “At least twice.” There was no doubt in Tim’s voice.

  “And another three for me. He may be wearing body armor. Get some units down after him.” He holstered his gun and knelt beside Molly. “Are you okay?”

  With the immediate threat passed, it was her first chance to assess her current state. It was not a good feeling.

  “Gonna be sick.”

  Tim wordlessly passed the trashcan to her. Molly forced herself to sit up, and immediately said goodbye to the cola she had just swallowed.

  The room was suddenly full of people and noise and the smell of her own vomit. The hospital staff arrived and went into crisis mode. They made some initial attempts to treat Stomper’s new injuries, but the nurse and orderly who had swooped in to look at Molly hadn’t made it out of the door with her before it was clear there was nothing to be done. Stomper was beyond the hospital’s ability to save.

  Molly was vaguely aware of a wheelchair underneath her. She was moving too fast. Her stomach roiled again, but she kept the bile down. They stopped at an elevator, and Beth burst out from the stairs.

  “Molly!”

  Molly shook her head forcefully. “The Aerialist just killed Stomper. I’m okay.”

  The last part was a lie, of course. The nurse shushed Molly, and in forcing herself to try to relax, she took it too far. Molly lost consciousness.

  ✽✽✽

  She awoke with her hand being held in a death grip. She then decided she wouldn’t use that term, even in her head, while at the hospital.

  She woke up and squeezed Sean’s hand back as best she could. He started when her hands moved and stared down at her with wide eyes.

  “Molly!”

  She smiled weakly at him. “Not so loud, please.”

  “I thought…”

  “Don’t let Detective Cedar worry you, liebchen. He wasn’t listening to any of the doctors, or to me, when they told him you just had a case of severe fatigue.”

  Molly looked over at Wulfric. Her brow furrowed. He looked ragged, despite his perpetual kind smile.

  “Wulfric?”

  He sat down as though starting to feel his age, all of it. “I’m all right. I’ve just been expending a great deal of healing energy. The gift is taxing, but I thank the Lord for it.”

  She sat up with some concern. “How low are you?”

  He chuckled. “It’s not like a fuel tank, Molly. I’m well enough, but feeling the burden that it is my pleasure to carry. Now you, are you feeling better?”

  She took a minute to assess herself. “Hungry,” she reported. Frankly, she was astonished how hungry she was.

  Wulfric smiled, and some of the weariness left him. “An excellent sign.”

  The pressure on her hand began to increase again. She looked over at Sean. “I’m all right. I promise. Extending my ghosting field takes a lot of energy. I think my body just needed to take a break.”

  “I wasn’t sure that’s what was happening. Does it always feel that way to you?”

  She knit her brow. “What way?”

  “Like your whole body is getting a small shock while your extremities are falling asleep?”

  She blinked up at him. “No. Not even a little bit. The most that happens is that my sense of touch becomes a little fuzzy.”

  “I guess you’re used to it. Anyway, thank you. You saved my life.” He lowered his face and kissed her. It was tender and spread a comforting warmth across her. She threw her arms around his neck and held on tightly.

  They both laughed when her stomach gurgled its insistence that she eat something.

  It took only about an hour for Molly to be discharged from the hospital. She drove back with Wulfric and Fathi. Sean had truthfully spent too much time at her bedside in the middle of this latest crisis. They stopped for fast food on the way back, and despite the cold November night, Molly finished her large milkshake before they were out of the car.

  “Still hungry?” asked Wulfric as they entered her house.

  She was, but telling Wulfric that would lead to him cooking a four-course meal. She knew he needed to rest. “I’m having a peanut butter sandwich. You are going to bed.” She looked at Fathi. “Need anything?”

  He shook his head and put a hand on Wulfric’s shoulder to stop him from insisting on cooking something for Molly. She could read worry on Fathi’s face. The two men made their way to the air mattresses they’d set up in the basement.

  Molly, in fact, had two peanut butter sandwiches. As she spread the gooey wonderfulness over the bread for the second time, there was a knock on her back door. Careful not to disturb the rest of her houseguests, she opened the door for Hustle and Damselfly.

  “How goes the hunt?” she asked, but she could see from their faces that it had not been successful.

  “This guy is good.” Damselfly said ruefully. “Well, not good. He’s evil, obviously, but he’s hard to catch.”

  “Too hard.” Hustle responded. “I’m starting to think he’s not the noob we thought he was. Damsel and I had him cornered and he slipped right out from us.”

  “Oh, and did you know he has bulletproof skin?” Damselfly pulled off her mask and tried to rearrange her hair. The mess under her cowl got considerably worse.

  Molly’s eyes widened at that. “Sean and Tim both thought they’d hit him, but they assumed it was body armor.”

  Damselfly shook her head. “I could see where the bullets hit him. They tore through his clothes all the way to his skin.”

  “Which didn’t even seem to show any bruises,” Hustle amended. “I landed a punch and darn near broke my hand on this guy.” He held up his hand to show his bloodied knuckles. “It’s more than that, though. He didn’t just have more powers than we expected, he knows how to use them. He’s precise, he’s accurate, and he knows how to throw down with someone who can move like me or can change size like Damselfly.”

  Molly’s mind was reeling, but she managed to say, “Sit down. I’ll get you some peroxide for that hand.”

  “I should probably go,” said Damselfly. “The fam will be worried about me. I’m guessing you’re feeling better? You’ve got your color back.”

  “I’m fine, Beth. You go on.” She looked at Hustle. “Can you stay?”

  “For you, of course.”

  Just before she put her mask back on, Damselfly put on a knowing smile, but Molly was too exhausted for anything like that.

  “Good job tonight, Damsel.” Hustle sounded like a baseball coach.

  “You too,” she replied with a tight smile. She shrank and flew away.

  “So what’s this about you not feeling well?”

  Molly gestured to the couch in the living room. She ducked into her downstairs bathroom and returned with peroxide and a cotton swab.

  “Take care of that hand.”

  “Uh-huh. So?”

  Molly sighed. She was so tired, and the story was not going to lead to her getting to sleep. “The Aerialist flew up beside Stomper’s window and fired several shots with that hunting rifle of his. I happened to be there, and Sean was in the line of fire. I had to extend my ghosting to him, or he would be dead right now.”

  Hustle’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Turns out I can’t, not without putting my system into some kind of shock. I threw up, passed out, and I’ve been eating like a horse since I woke up.”

  “Saying ‘duck’ wasn’t an option?”

  “You don’t want to know the details.”

  He narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

  “And, by the way, Stomper is dead.”

  “Whoa,” Hustle said softly. His gaze drifted to the floor. “Kind of an end of an era. He didn’t have many redeeming qualities, but things were always simple with Stomper. He was a thug for hire, and if no one would hire him, he was just a thug. You always knew where you stood with him.” He looked up at her with a smile. “Remember the time you distracted him wi
th a birthday cake?”

  She chuckled. Even now she could picture the boyish joy on Stomper’s face when she had offered it to him.

  Hustle reached out his hand and put it on her knee. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’m sorry you got shot at, and all this chaos with your mother and everything, but it’s been good working with you.”

  She smiled, more at the sentiment than at the facts.

  “You know I’m not Sean’s biggest fan, but I kind of like this consultant idea of his. Maybe it’s something you can think of doing on a longer term. You know, helping the police, kind of being a liaison with the cops and the capes?”

  He must have read the shock on her face as he held up his hands and leaned away. “Hey, just a thought. I’ve missed you, and frankly you’re smarter than me. It’s a way you could do a lot of good.” He slid across the couch to her and gently kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you put that in the back of your head and mull it over later?” His kiss moved to her lips, and he was uncharacteristically gentle. Molly kissed him back, but it was over quickly.

  “I don’t want to bruise your ego by falling asleep while you kiss me, but I’m not far from passing out.”

  He kissed her cheek again. “We can say I made you swoon.”

  She felt his arm moving under her knees, and before she knew it, he’d scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom. She was on her bed before she could let out the breath of surprise she’d inhaled.

  “Get some sleep, Bright Eyes.”

  He was gone in an instant, but she felt a parting kiss on her forehead. She managed to kick off her shoes but didn’t even try to get undressed. Her pillow was so comfortable.

  She was too tired to even worry about his suggestion that she become a permanent police consultant. Molly slept deep and long, knowing she’d have plenty of time to obsess over that later.