Council of Evil

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Council of Evil Page 3

by Andy Briggs


  Jake froze as his foot clattered aside a rusted oilcan. It bounced in the darkness, sounding unnaturally loud. He felt a chill run up his spine and could have sworn the air temperature had suddenly dropped.

  “Congratulations, Hunter,” purred a voice from the darkness behind him.

  Jake wheeled around, dropping his bike and sliding out the wrench in one fluid movement. He heard slow, mocking clapping from the shadows. It sounded like bricks being banged together.

  “Very good. Reflexes like a cat,” continued the voice.

  “Who are you?” Jake demanded.

  “I’m your new best friend.”

  The darkness shifted as a figure stepped from the deepest shadows. He was much taller than Jake. Faint moonlight reflected off steel struts that braced both legs and disappeared in a pair of black boots with countless buckles on them. His arms were bare and looked to have the texture of stone. The rest of the stranger was clad in matte black, but even in the dim light Jake could see the man’s chest was well defined with muscles. A short black cape hung over his shoulders, and when the moonlight caught it, it seemed to glitter like a snakeskin. A wide hood covered his head, obscuring any features. He stood and appraised Jake with a slight tilt of the head. When he crossed his arms, they made the sound of stone grating against stone as they moved.

  Jake held his ground, although he wanted to jump on his bike and scurry away.

  “You can call me Basilisk!” The figure’s voice reverberated dramatically among the deserted buildings.

  After years of picking on kids with stupid names, Jake couldn’t help but smile. “Basilisk? What kind of name is that?”

  “One you will respect!”

  Basilisk took a step forward, his boots thumping heavily on the ground as he drew himself to his full height. Jake gasped; he hadn’t been aware the figure was slouching until now. Basilisk must have been almost seven feet tall, and egg-shaped eyes flared neon blue under his hood.

  Despite himself, Jake let out a whimper of fear and took a step backward as he lifted the wrench, ready to strike. Basilisk boomed with humorless laughter.

  “Oh, very good. Feisty and aggressive. Those traits will serve you well.”

  “Take one more step and I’ll slug you across the head!” Jake warned.

  A beam of concentrated light shot from Basilisk’s finger, as fine as string, but the moment it struck the wrench the tool glowed bright red and smoldered in Jake’s hand. He let go of it with a yelp.

  “How’d you do that?” he said while sucking his burned fingers. “Did you get those powers off a Web site by any chance?”

  “No. I was born with them. But I did send you that e-mail. You were given a gift. A temporary gift to be used how you see fit. And I have been watching you.”

  “Why?”

  “I saw how you used your powers for rage and revenge. Burning down your classroom was very wicked,” Basilisk’s voice became thoughtful. “Although you lost points for pulling out that pain-in-the-neck teacher of yours. But you were close to perfect, allowing your actions to be guided by your feelings. Controlled anger is the mightiest weapon.”

  Jake’s questions tumbled out at once. “I want to know exactly what you’ve done to me. Are there any side effects, like radiation poisoning? Is it going to happen to me again?”

  Basilisk regarded him silently for a moment. “How did it feel? Knowing you controlled such a destructive force?”

  Jake was thrown by the question. He had to admit that he’d felt a thrill tremble through him when he realized that he had been the source of the fire. It had made him feel terrified too, but there was no way he was going to admit weakness to this stranger.

  “It was cool.” Jake reflected that that was an inappropriate choice of words.

  “It’s in your blood. Wielding power is part of who you are; of what you’ve become. You have the ability to rule. An ability few men possess.”

  “Is that right?” said Jake skeptically, though it was a great sales pitch to his ego.

  “The Web site, Villain.net, is a portal to channel your anger and fear. If you use it right, we can be truly unstoppable. You can have not just a single power. Imagine hundreds at your disposal.”

  Jake’s mind was now running quickly through his options, a form of mental gymnastics he wasn’t used to. Basilisk didn’t look like the mild-mannered do-gooders that Jake had seen in the movies. He looked every bit the sinister bad guy, and that sent a conflict of emotions through Jake’s mind. Of course, running with the good guys would be just plain dull, but this guy seemed like major trouble—and trouble was something Jake was good at detecting.

  “So through the Web site I can just click and use any of those powers when I want to?”

  “You can download them, yes. Anytime you want. But, of course, you don’t get something for nothing.”

  Jake shook his head; he knew it was too good to be true. “You want money?”

  Basilisk unfolded his arms and held out his hands in a “stop” gesture. “Not from you. I want your services. If you wish to possess these powers, then you must help me. Let me be your mentor, your trainer.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you are unique. You have undreamed potential.”

  “And what would I have to do?”

  “Assist me, and see the world like you’ve never seen it before. It would be like a unique adventure camp.” Basilisk held out his hand as if to shake Jake’s. “Do we have a deal?”

  Jake hesitated; this all seemed wrong. At school Jake was goaded into actions that he knew weren’t right, like letting Scuffer persuade him to use the virus. Jake felt it was a sign of being weak willed, even if his friends seemed to respect him more for doing it.

  His eyes scanned the dark factory around him. If he wanted to, he could run. But an element of curiosity held him in place, even now. Basilisk was offering a fresh start—unlimited power and an opportunity to leave his boring life behind. Basilisk seemed like the bad-tempered kind, but that was something Jake was used to dealing with. He felt scared, and he knew fear led to weakness. The kids he picked on were frightened of him and that made them weak, prime targets for bullying. He took a deep breath—although he was scared, he was no coward.

  He reached out and shook Basilisk’s hand. It dwarfed his own. His skin felt like granite, and as it closed around Jake’s, he could feel that it was stone. His astonishment with the rocky skin lasted for a second before the powerful grip stopped short of crushing every bone in his hand. Jake didn’t make a murmur, and shook life back into his hand when Basilisk turned and strode into the darkness.

  “We leave now,” said Basilisk.

  “Leave? Where? My parents don’t even—”

  Basilisk spun around on his heels, his eyes flaring deep blue. “Your parents? I am offering you a chance to help me rule the world, and you’re worrying about getting home late? If I am to make you a king, then you will learn from me—not them!”

  Basilisk turned away and continued into the darkness. Jake realized that this guy was crazy and he could be dangerous. If Jake had not sampled the superpower firsthand, then he would have turned away. But he had, and now he needed to quench his thirst for that power again. He followed.

  “You never told me where we’re going, Bas.”

  “Traveling!” said Basilisk. And on cue a small vehicle was illuminated at the end of the factory floor. At first Jake mistook it for a sleek sports car, as it had the graceful curves of a Porsche. But as he got closer it was clear the vehicle was larger and had no wheels. Instead it sat on three landing skis. A series of narrow fins ran along the back of the craft, giving it the appearance of a menacing shark. As Basilisk approached, a pair of gull-wing doors hissed open, revealing two plush seats inside. Basilisk hauled himself into the driver’s seat, and gestured for Jake to sit alongside.

  “Wow!” Jake said, running his hands along the black carbon-fiber bodywork. “What is this?”

  “It’s my own invention, a
SkyKar. And if you don’t mind, we have an appointment to keep. Get in.”

  Basilisk seemed to sense Jake’s hesitation. “Hunter, this is a mission I need your help with. This is where your training begins. After this you will be returning home until I need you again.”

  Jake took a deep breath and nodded. He slid into the seat. The doors automatically folded down, and the dashboard lit up in an array of digital displays around a central monitor screen. A Head-Up Display (HUD) projected against the windshield gave all manner of flight data.

  “You will need to buckle your harness,” Basilisk said as a rising engine hum vibrated through the SkyKar. Jake looked down at his seat, his fingers scrambling for the seat belt. He found one strap, but before he could locate the other the vehicle tilted upward and accelerated at a phenomenal speed. Jake was pushed back in his seat by the sudden g-force and felt the breath crushed out of him.

  “And never call me Bas again.”

  The SkyKar leveled out and the intense effect of the g-force vanished from Jake’s body as quickly as a blanket being pulled away. He gasped for breath, both hands gripping the dashboard for support.

  “I warned you to strap yourself in,” commented Basilisk.

  “A little more warning next time would be preferred,” snarled Jake. He peered out of the curved windows. “We’re flying!” It was a much better view than through the small portholes of airplanes; he could see the towns below, laid out in yellow and white pinpricks like a mirror to the stars above.

  “Flying? You haven’t experienced anything yet,” Basilisk said as he pivoted a monitor screen to face Jake. On it was the banner Villain.net, and a range of icons beneath that; many more than last time. “As a minion you get to choose four powers. It’s a touch screen.”

  Jake eagerly examined the display. As before, every icon depicted a stick figure in a pose, some with lines coming from their hands, others with lines from their head. There was the occasional symbol that Jake recognized from playing on his Xbox: the radioactive sign and another he was pretty sure meant biohazard. He shuddered at the thought of that one: would he come out with oozing lumps of pus like a giant zit?

  “What do they all do?”

  For the first time, Basilisk hesitated. “Ah, yes. That’s a slight, uh, design problem with the site.” He faced Jake, but even this close his features remained hidden in the shadows of his hood. “A lot of the elements of this site were stolen and we don’t have descriptions of all the icons. We only know a few. You’ll just have to make an educated guess.”

  “Stolen? From where?”

  “Downloading superpowers through the Internet is not the same as downloading your favorite song, you know. Just choose instead of asking questions.”

  Jake looked back at the screen. With no key to what the symbols could be, he indiscriminately stabbed his finger at four of the icons. As before, the surface of the monitor writhed like a living thing and formed a thin tendril toward his head. It was an unsettling experience, over in a second.

  “What did you select?” Basilisk asked keenly.

  “Um … I don’t really know. I just randomly hit things.”

  “What? You should think about your actions. Being thoughtless will get you killed!”

  Jake glared at the hooded figure and felt, not for the first time, an intense dislike for the enigmatic Basilisk. Then he began to experience a crawling sensation in his hands, racing toward his fingertips. Basilisk suddenly stretched across the dashboard and hit a button. Instantly the sensation in Jake’s fingers vanished.

  “What just happened?”

  “I activated the power dampener. Otherwise you might have blown my SkyKar out of the air. And since you don’t know if you have flying powers or not, I didn’t think it was worth the risk. Besides, the vehicle’s not insured.”

  “Power dampener?”

  “It inhibits superpowers.” Basilisk reached in the side of his seat and pulled out a pair of handcuffs with a digital keypad in the center to lock them. “Normally you need a generator the size of a house to dampen even the most basic powers. But my latest creation crams it all into a small chip. I used the same technology in these. Cuff a superhero and—zap!—their powers have been nullified. Just sold the first batch to a criminal called Tempest. Good luck to him.”

  Jake shook his head. This all seemed crazy. On top of everything else it looked as if Basilisk was a nutty inventor who sold his creations to other supervillains.

  “We’ll be at our destination in a couple of hours,” Basilisk continued, “so sit back and enjoy the ride. When we arrive you’ll have ample time to vent your anger!”

  “But I’m not angry.”

  “You will be,” said Basilisk with a trace of mirth.

  Jake decided not to ask any further questions, as he figured they wouldn’t be answered anyway. He sat back and enjoyed the view. It was probably also best not to mention he didn’t have his passport.

  The SkyKar shimmied, and Jake felt his stomach lurch. He must have drifted asleep. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the rays of dawn peeking over the horizon. He could feel that they were descending. A quick glance at his watch told him that more than two hours had passed.

  Basilisk hit a button on the control panel, and the words “AUTO PILOT” illuminated. The gull-wing doors flipped open in tandem, and Basilisk half stood on his seat.

  “Are you ready?”

  Jake rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Ready for what?”

  Basilisk snapped his hand out and unfastened Jake’s seat belt.

  “Ready to fly!”

  Jake opened his mouth to respond—but before he could, Basilisk’s heavy boot slammed into his chest. Jake scrambled to hold on to anything as he was kicked from his seat and fell from the SkyKar.

  It was an odd experience. The descending SkyKar appeared to move away from Jake in slow motion as he fell at a slightly faster speed. The roar of wind bellowed past his ears and tore at his clothes. He managed to spin around onto his chest, and saw, below him, dawn light glinting off the glass towers of a sprawling building complex etched out in a rocky desert.

  It didn’t look as if it would cushion Jake’s fall.

  Basilisk suddenly glided into view, in full control of his dive. He zipped past Jake as agile as a hummingbird.

  “Jake, you can fly!”

  “How do you know? You don’t know what powers I got,” Jake screamed back through the wind. “I could have downloaded a superpower that helps me fall!”

  “I lied. I know what some of the icons mean. I configured the system to make sure flying was one of your chosen powers. It’s something I’ve learned at a high cost. I’ve seen too many sidekicks splattered!”

  The structure below was looming larger than ever, now fully taking up Jake’s peripheral vision. He closed his eyes, and thrust his hands down as if to cushion his fall. He could almost imagine the roaring wind in his ears had stopped.

  In fact the wind had stopped.

  Jake opened his eyes. He was no longer rushing to meet the ground, but instead hovered over the complex. Basilisk hung alongside, so in control that the wind hadn’t even displaced his hood. The SkyKar suddenly thundered between them as it continued a preprogrammed descent, and Jake wavered slightly as he was caught in the vehicle’s wake of displaced air.

  “I can fly!” he said in awe.

  “You can do so much more than that, Hunter.”

  Jake glanced at Basilisk. He was not used to positive comments from anybody.

  “Your powers feed off your fear and anger. That is why they manifested when you were angry with your teacher. Reach inside and embrace those feelings. Use them to your advantage!”

  Those feelings were familiar. He’d heard the old adage that bullies are just cowards—and he knew that to be true. Every time he picked on a kid he felt a knot of fear that he might get punched back. That’s what made it all exciting.

  Jake’s arms and legs flicked out as he caught his balance. Now the rush o
f possibilities flowed through him as he sensed the power at his fingertips. He remembered what his dad had once told him, after he’d been in trouble for the hundredth time.

  “Your future’s what you make of it.”

  Jake realized that the fruitcake in the cape, flying alongside him, was giving him the opportunity to create a fabulous future. Jake was determined not to mess up this opportunity as he had so many others.

  “Okay, what are we doing here? Where are we?”

  “The subcontinent of India.” Basilisk jabbed a finger down. “That is a top secret, high-security, scientific development lab. Inside, they have developed something called the Core Probe, a robotic mole capable of burrowing straight to the earth’s core. And we want it.”

  “We do? Why?”

  “For power and glory!” Basilisk saw that Jake didn’t seem motivated. He shook his head. “Because it’s essential to my plan! In a few seconds the SkyKar is going to trip the security defenses, and then things will get very interesting.”

  “Interesting how?”

  Basilisk shook his head, just as a warbling alarm sounded from below, echoing across the complex. Jake could see people and armed vehicles deployed from a hangar just to one side of the complex.

  “They have guns!”

  Basilisk pointed. “They have missiles.”

  Jake hadn’t spotted a pair of flatbed trucks camouflaged in a thicket of ornamental trees. Gimbal-mounted missile launchers on the trucks spun to face them, and twin flashes made the vehicles lurch as a pair of rockets shot out.

  Jake felt a flood of adrenaline course through him, heightening his senses. “What do we do?”

  Basilisk’s voice was as smooth as honey, belying the fun he was having. “Now we fight!”

  With that, Basilisk powered toward the ground, but Jake couldn’t avert his eyes from the missiles that were almost on top of him.

 

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