Two Percent Power: Delivering Justice

by Brian Manning

  “Where are they?” Patrick asked.

  “All over,” Broadband said over the radio. “They’re all over the place, looting and rioting.”

  Patrick wasn’t expecting Sight to send his soldiers out storming the streets in the middle of the day. He had just organized his own teams into separate parts of the city. Their goal was to strike any and all Visionaries, before they had a chance to report back. He wanted to thin their ranks with fast, coordinated strikes over the course of a few nights. But this was outside of what he expected.

  “What are they after?” Boost asked.

  “Us. They’re trying to draw us out,” Beat Boxer said.

  “Or draw us away from something,” Speetah answered. “Like the kidnapping.”

  “Doesn’t matter why they’re out there. We can’t let them just tear the place apart,” Black Paralysis said.

  “BP is right,” Boost said. “We’ve got to transform and roll out!”

  “Broadband, Big Brother, give us some locations,” Patrick said.

  The rioting was scattered and random, with no central target area. It was just a bunch of unruly young men and women spreading out from the Watchtower and wreaking havoc to anyone and anything in their path. They weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they operated from the lone tower in that part of town.

  Trevor and Troy sent the locations, and used their overhead perspectives to coordinate the heroes as they set out to take on the wave of Visionaries flooding the streets.

  “We can’t wear ourselves out trying to take them all on. There are too many of them,” Patrick said. “We need to target the areas with the greatest threat to safety, and from there, move in towards the center. We’re going to hit the Watchtower.”

  “Right on!” Boost said.

  The heroes split into pairs and individuals, targeting the locations that needed their help the most. The areas with innocent people in the streets or major fires. A few of the other heroes from the very first meeting had answered the next call as well. Bulletproof Larry, Car Tune, Dark Justice, and Weed all agreed that the Visionaries had to be stopped. They paired up and headed to their designated locations to take on the rioters.

  Patrick and Boost stuck together and moved to intercept the largest group, a dozen Visionaries, all too close to a school in the neighborhood. They reached an intersection about a block away from the chaos, near the school’s playground, where a large group of frightened children were surrounded by teachers, trying to protect them. The mob was throwing trash cans, bottles, rocks, and anything else they could get their hands on, through the windows of the school and all of the cars parked out front.

  “Looks like school’s out,” one of them yelled, as the rest of the hyenas cackled with glee.

  Patrick and Boost wasted no time and rushed the group, stopping them before they reached the children. One of the thugs held a bottle with a rag over the small flame of a lighter. Without breaking his stride, Patrick pulled the tab on one of his cuffs, and snapped a small pellet of milk, killing the flame. The bewildered teen looked up just in time to see the bottom of a size eleven boot planting right into his kisser.

  Patrick was already facing off against four of the soldiers. His arms were already covered with shimmering white gauntlets. He was fending off attacks and firing back with blasts and punches of his own. A single hit got through his defenses, but the adrenaline coursing through his system helped him shrug it off as he finished the first attacker with a solid uppercut. Two more filled the gap, as Patrick stepped away to make some more room.

  Boost held the largest of the group in a tight headlock, as the rest surrounded him, pounding away to free their friend. The fists and feet pelted at him, with no affect whatsoever. They all stumbled back as he unleashed a vicious uppercut of his own, releasing the man’s head as his fist made contact. The Visonary’s body flailed through the air in a half somersault, crashing hard to the street.

  “Lesson’s not over yet, boys and girls,” Boost stood taunting the remaining attackers with his arms held out. “I’m your substitute teacher and you’ve just been enrolled into the school of hard knocks.”

  Beat Boxer dropped down to the street from the low rooftops. Three Visionaries were standing outside of a jewelry store. The front window had already been shattered, and they were raising bottles of beer to celebrate their victory before heading inside. She secured the earbuds into her ears and spun her thumb around the control wheel on the front of her music player, cranking the volume.

  Abby wasn’t even in the mood to start with some clever small talk, instead just rushing right into the mix. There were people inside the store, hiding behind the counters, while the three men outside terrorized them. Before reaching the group, she jumped up onto a car parked on the curb, grabbing their attention and flipped toward the trio. Abby landed on the biggest of the group, driving both knees into his collar bones as he spun around to face her. The angle of the impact drove the man to the ground. As his back hit the sidewalk, Abby rolled off, drawing spiraling red trails of light.

  In the reflection of the partially broken front window, she could see the other two rushing her from behind. Keeping the momentum from her roll, she planted a foot on the wall and flipped backwards over the first attacker as he passed underneath. Once her feet hit the concrete, she fired an elbow backwards catching the second on the bridge of his nose. The blow didn’t have enough power to break or bloody his nose, but it turned on the water works, blinding him.

  The fight continued in the same three-on-one rhythm, with two of her opponents attempting to grab, punch, kick, or tackle her, only to miss or stumble, and the third finding his attack answered with a counter strike. One, two, pow. One, two, crack. As soon as each of the men felt her sting, she turned up the beat. Bright red, almost blinding, trails filled the gaps between the combatants as she retraced her movements, landing two and three hit combinations. Fists, elbows, knees, and feet all finding rewarding targets, dropping each in turn.

  When all three were strewn about, like discarded scarecrows, Abby looked up to see two more challengers running her way. Both women and both with much more bulk packed onto their muscular frames than the chess club she had just tangled with.

  She inhaled a deep breath through her nose, watching them close the distance. As she blew the breath out in a slow exhale, the music cross faded to the next song in her playlist. The volume dipped just low enough for her to hear a small voice from inside the jewelry store.

  “You can do it.”

  Abby turned to see a little boy, about eight years old holding his fist up in encouragement. She smiled at her cheerleader, gave him a wink, and ran straight for the new attackers, meeting them halfway.

  Black Paralysis came around the corner, just as he saw a woman running into an apartment building, closing the door behind her. The look of utter fear and helplessness in her eyes charged him up. A group of Visionaries sprinted across the street, yelling and laughing, as they started rattling the front door to the building. One held a small baseball bat that looked like something he stole from a neighborhood tee ball game. He was hammering away at the heavy wooden door as the others cheered him on.

  Sean didn’t have time for messing around. They were intent on breaking down the door and attacking everyone inside. His mind was a step behind his body, racing to formulate his plan of attack while he was already flying through the air, driving a powerful knee strike into the ribcage of the closest opponent.

  So much for the art of war, he was already face to face with the next Visionary. Sean didn’t even know how many people were in this group, so he couldn’t hold back. Dropping to a crouch, he ducked below a quick hook and lashed out with a hook of his own, targeting his opponent’s inner thigh. He unleashed the full charge he had stored up into the blow, which was sure to kill the signal to his entire leg, and up into his hip. Judging by the crisp technique of the hook he dodged, it was a good thing he took the man’s support out from under him right away.


  Sean wasn’t sure how long it would take to build up enough charge to use his powers again, but being surrounded by five other foes, it was time to test his pure hand to hand fighting abilities again. Skills he developed through years of punishing training. Thanks for pushing me so hard in the gym, Dad, he thought. The man that took his initial knee strike, stepped in first with a right cross. Sean slipped to the side, deflecting the blow while driving his knee into the same spot he hit before. This time the strike dropped the attacker with a groan. Sean’s head whipped backward as a solid kick was planted between his shoulder blades. He staggered right into stiff punch, catching him above his left eye. He turned to his right and brought his hands up to get his bearings.

  Sean’s vision snapped back just in time to see the man with the small bat swinging with the weapon in one hand, trying to take his head off. With a quick shuffle step Sean closed the distance, getting inside the swing. He caught the attacker’s arm by the wrist and bicep with his own hands hooking over. A sharp pull brought the taller man’s head closer as Sean drove the crown of his own head into his opponent’s face. For good measure, he shoved his opponent away and turned to face the rest again, as the dazed opponent fell to his back.

  Sean was expecting to see three, but just beyond his hands, five Visionaries faced him. Even with the three he had just dispatched, this group didn’t seem daunted in the least. As Sean curled his fingers and tightened his fists, he could feel the energy coursing through his core and into his arms again. It wasn’t enough of a charge to take them all out, but it evened the odds.

  Their attention was no longer on the occupants of the building, it was fixed on him, so it couldn’t hurt to draw things out and build up his energy level a bit more.

  “I don’t supposed you guys want to take a number and settle this in an orderly fashion?”

  Speetah maintained her pace with H2Grow so they wouldn’t get separated before reaching the group they were after. It wasn’t hard to track the Visionaries. They were setting fires throughout the neighborhood and the pillars of thick black smoke lead the two heroes right where they were needed most.

  “That’s them. Right up the block,” Nolan pointed to a half dozen people, all wearing military style uniforms, tossing molotov cocktails at cars, store fronts, and anything that wasn’t already burning. A fire engine was parked behind Crystal and Nolan, as a small team was evacuating the shops pouring smoke. A nearby fire hydrant already had the hose hooked up and a crew was battling the flames. There was no way this crew could keep up with the destruction.

  “Let’s go, we’ve got to stop this now,” Crystal said.

  “Wait, I’ve got to suit up first.” He jogged up to the stout fireplug feeding the hose, and cupped his hands under the excess water dripping from the connection. With everyone’s attention fixed to the fire, he was free to soak up as much as he needed. His arms and legs filled out, like water balloons, straining the fabric of his sweats. His neck cut down at wide angles from his ears out, making his head look much smaller. His facial features smoothed out, almost swallowing his cheekbones and brow ridges.

  He stood back up and smiled at Crystal. “That hit the spot.”

  She gestured in the direction of the group of arsons, with an after you intent. His steps were slow and plodding, like watching a running back dragging multiple defenders down the field for a few more yards.

  “Are you serious?” She asked, impatience dripping like the excess water from the hydrant.

  “Just go, I’ll meet you there,” Nolan said.

  He broke into a full run, increasing his speed to that of the same running back, with one less defender attached. She rolled her eyes, and shook her head. In an instant, she turned and bolted toward the unsuspecting crowd setting fire to the block.

  Crystal reached the first of the Visionaries, a large oafish man, as he bent down to shield his lighter from the whipping winds. Before he could light the rag stuffed into the bottle in his other hand, she plucked it from his grasp and smacked him hard across the temple. The bottle shattered, splashing its contents with the broken glass, across the wide head of the man. He planted face first into the street, arms locked out stiff, out cold before his body was horizontal.

  The glass breaking got the attention of the rest. Their reaction wasn’t fear or surprise. It was different. It was anticipation being dispelled at last, as the big event had begun. They were out doing this to once again draw the heroes out of hiding. The usual mix of Visionaries were young impressionable types, posing just a minor threat when engaged. This was a new formula, made up of athletically inclined men and women. No teens here. And judging by their postures, Crystal was pretty sure they had a few fisticuffs under their collective belts.

  The lead trio closed the distance. She avoided all of the incoming blows, relying on her boosted reflexes. This was an organized attack, moving with precision. It took practice to reach this level of coordination as a group. Most of the strikes either missed or landed glancing blows, shrugged off with no difficulty. Crystal fired off a few of her own when the opportunity presented itself, finding that she too was equally ineffective. It was a stalemate, but their numbers would tip the scales soon.

  Switching to a pure defensive approach, she opened up the gap between them. As one of the attackers tried for a high roundhouse kick, Crystal spun around, ducking underneath, as her tail struck the ankle of his supporting leg, sweeping him to the ground. He was able to break his fall, but that was the breathing room she needed to turn and run back toward Nolan.

  She kept her speed high enough to increase the distance, but not too fast to make them give up the chase. This time, the rest of the group had joined in. Five in all were trying to run her down. Nolan was still lumbering forward, chin tucked, eyes forward, and looking to bust a hole through their offensive line. She locked eyes with him and gave a quick nod. Nolan returned the nod, just as she cut around him and skidded, changing directions to face their enemies once again.

  The biggest man in front continued forward, looking to smash right through the golem blocking their path. Their bodies collided, sending out a wet clap that reverberated off of the buildings around them. Nolan didn’t even lose a step, as he extended an arm out to the side to catch one more with a vicious clothesline. The unfortunate victim, the only woman in the group, hit his arm at full speed. It caught her on the tip of her chin and along her jawline. She was parallel to the ground when she fell from shoulder height.

  Two of them got past Nolan to square up with Speetah again. The third kicked up loose asphalt and pebbles scrambling to stop. He lost his footing, and dropped to the street, just as a huge watery ham-fisted hook whooshed through the air above his head.

  “Looks like the odds are once again in our favor,” H2Grow voice bubbled, like a low budget ventriloquist taking a sip of water while his dummy spoke for him.

  Patrick and Boost took a step back, watching as the kids in the nearby playground threw rocks and trash at the few Visionaries still on their feet. Several of the teachers had also jumped the gate to help restrain the villains attacking their school. The two heroes looked at each other, catching their breaths while smiling at what they were seeing.

  “I guess this means I’m not the only teacher at the school of hard knocks,” Boost said.

  Patrick chuckled and shook his head. “Looks like you’ve got no class.”

  Boost groaned. “Aw that’s just bad, Milk Man. Puns are my turf.”

  Patrick tapped his radio back on. “How’s everyone else doing?”

  “All clear here. I had some help from the locals when things were getting a bit hectic,” Beat Boxer said.

  “Same here,” Black Paralysis said. “I had some of the teens coming out to lend a hand.”

  “Looks like they’ve finally pushed the people too far,” Patrick said.

  “We’re done here as well,” H2Grow said. “The fire department is keeping these goons on lockdown until the cops show, so they don’t start any more
fires.”

  “Great news, everybody. Broadband, Big Brother, how are the others doing?” Patrick asked.

  “Dark Justice and Bulletproof Larry have tied things up, and it looks like Car Tune has a group with him. I’m seeing the same thing everywhere. The people have had enough and they’re rising up to take on the Visionaries.”

  “Hey, does anyone have eyes on Weed?” Boost asked. “I gotta know what her powers are. What does she even do?”

  “I have him on the corner he was sent to. The drone didn’t catch what happened, but he’s standing in the middle of a large group of unconscious Visionaries,” Broadband said.

  “I have got to find out what his powers are,” Boost mumbled to Patrick.

  “Is anyone seeing a police presence anywhere?” Patrick asked. “We need to know how many pockets Sight has been lining.”

  “We’ve got a few here,” Speetah said.

  “Here, too,” Black Paralysis added.

  No one else saw any major police response to the city-wide assault. Either they were responding to incidents outside of the drones’ fields of view, or the corruption among city officials was worse than Patrick had thought.

  “I guess it’s on us then,” he said to the rest. “Get us a path to the Watchtower. Keep the new heroes on the outskirts cleaning up any strays while we move in.”

  “Hey, guys,” Trevor said. “I just got a text from Manny. Either they just released him from the hospital, or he left AMA. I can’t tell. He’s trying to find out where you are, though.”

  “Tell him to stay back,” Patrick said. “He should be resting.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the answer he’s looking for.”

  “He’s not in any condition to—”

  “Let him know we’re headed to the Watchtower,” Speetah interrupted. “You’re not going to be able to keep him on the sidelines, Patrick. He’s not going to just sit back while he thinks his friends are all in danger.”