So instead I reached out with my powers, before Iceburn had even finished speaking, trying to latch onto the bodies of all the new Rogues at once and immobilize them.
Nope. Trying to hold onto them was like trying to grasp wisps of smoke. They were as immune to my powers as Silverback had been. Add how they had managed to pull that little trick off to my list of questions.
Time for plan B.
All the bystanders with any sense were fleeing, trying to put as much distance as possible between them and us faced-off Metas. Meanwhile, many others stood around us, gawking and recording with their cell phones, like bystanders to a schoolyard fight. The problem was this fight was not between preadolescents who did not know how to throw a punch and could barely hurt each other, much less bystanders. This kind of fight promised to get bystanders killed.
I was vaguely tempted to leave the gawkers where they were in the line of fire, let natural selection do its work, and maybe raise the IQ of the gene pool a tad. But I knew I could not let a bunch of innocents get hurt or killed no matter how foolish they might be. So, I reached out with my powers, grabbing hold of everyone in the immediate vicinity. I yanked them all off their feet and flung them away from where I and the Rogues faced off. They cried out in surprise and confusion as they sailed through the air like dandelion seeds caught in a strong breeze. An instant later, I set them all back down on the ground far away from me and the Rogues.
I then threw up a large force field around me and the Rogues that was over half a city block large. It would not keep the Rogues in since they were somehow immune to my powers, but it would keep curious bystanders out. Now I wouldn’t have to worry about innocents getting hurt. I just had to worry about me getting hurt, which was more than enough to fret about. I felt like I was about to be a part of the world’s biggest cage fight.
Iceburn looked at how we all had gone from being surrounded by bystanders to being alone in seconds. “Nice trick kid,” he said. “What do you do for an encore?”
I believed in showing, not telling. The words were still on Iceburn’s lips when I launched myself at Doctor Alchemy. I zoomed toward him like a shot bullet, dodging a ball of energy Mad Dog spat at me, then an icy blast from Iceburn. Though I had never faced Doctor Alchemy before, his reputation preceded him. He posed the biggest threat. He had fought Heroes like the Sentinels to a standstill, including Avatar. He had tortured and killed the Hero Wildside and God only knew how many others, both Meta and non-Meta. The main reason Neha had become a Hero was to try to prevent him from taking over the world.
A blast of concentrated wind like a mini-tornado hit me before I reached Doctor Alchemy. It took me by surprise. The wind blew me off course, forcing me back through the air. It slammed me against the front of a building so hard that its stone cracked and splintered behind and around me. My personal shield was up of course, or else my body would have been smeared across the side of the building like a bug hitting the windshield of a speeding car.
The blast of wind pounded me, roaring in my ears, drilling into me, pinning me in place, sucking the air out of my lungs. It was not like a mini-tornado as I’d thought before—it was a mini-tornado. The larger end of the funnel bore into my body. I gasped for breath. My lungs burned, feeling like they would collapse. I might as well have been blind with all the debris whipping around me.
Trying to swallow my mounting panic, I reached out with my telekinetic touch, groping for the source of the tornado. The tapered end of the tornado’s funnel sprouted from Elemental Man’s palms. Of course. I should have known. He had also attacked me with a twister during the Trials.
I had absorbed a good bit of kinetic energy from my impact with the building and from the continuing windblast. Though I still could not see, I shifted my eyes in the direction of where I sensed Elemental Man. I channeled some of the pent-up energy through my eyes. My eyes burned. Twin energy beams burst out of me. They shrieked through the cyclone, and found the Rogue generating it. They hit Elemental Man. The beams’ concussive force blasted him off his feet. The mini-tornado pinning me against the building immediately dissipated into harmless gusts of wind.
Elemental Man sailed through the air. He landed on his back. Hard. But not as hard as he could have. He had generated an upsurge of wind to cushion his fall at the last second. Though no Hero, he had Heroic training. Some of the onlookers trapped outside my force field applauded. I didn’t know if they applauded me or Elemental Man. If the former, I wouldn’t let it go to my head. They would probably applaud if (when?) I got knocked on my ass too.
Elemental Man was down, but not out. I felt the same way—rocked, but still in the game. I peeled myself out of the small crater my shield and I had gouged into the side of the building. Gasping, my vision blurred, I tried to refill my lungs. I felt like a bug someone had stepped on.
A cloud of greenish-white gas engulfed me. My lungs, already burning, felt like acid was being poured into them. Choking, I had the presence of mind to hold my breath. It went against my body’s natural instincts, like a swimmer not coughing after he has inhaled water. Knockout gas, or something more potent? My head swam, the world spun. I didn’t know which way was up or down. Due to the green mist surrounding me, not having yet recovered from Elemental Man’s attack, and now my spinning head, I couldn’t see properly. I cast around with my telekinetic touch, looking for the source of gas.
Brown Recluse. He had leaped from the street onto a ledge above me. He was using his Metahuman ability to produce toxins to engulf me in a cloud of gas. The heavier than air gas billowed from his hands down onto me like fog from a fog machine.
I tried flying out of the cloud. Dizzy and disoriented, I succeeded only in slamming myself into the building again. I caromed off it like a cue ball. With friends like me, who needed these enemies?
Time to attack the source instead. Using my powers, I broke the stone ledge that Brown Recluse perched on, hoping to send him tumbling. Instead, he leaped onto me. I knew he was super-agile, but knowing it and seeing it in action were two different things. My personal shield useless against him, Brown Recluse wrapped his long arms and legs around me in an embrace that might be called intimate under different circumstances. His bare hands slid around my head, probing for bare skin, like a horny teen boy anxious to reach second base. I didn’t think he was trying to feel me up or give me a facial. Trying to rub a deadly toxin onto my skin was more likely.
Still holding my breath, I bucked in the air like a bronco, trying to dislodge Brown Recluse. I closed the openings of the Omega suit’s cowl with a thought. Just in time. Brown Recluse’s hands brushed my now protected lips, right where bare skin had been an instant before. I was safe from his deadly touch. I had solved one problem, but added a new one—the Omega suit’s thick, durable material now completely obscured my vision like I had been thrust into a dark cave. Breathing would be a problem, too, with my nostrils and mouth covered. Not that I had stopped holding my breath anyway because I was still engulfed in poisonous gas with the gas’ generator clinging to my back like a deadly addiction. I’d heard of having a monkey on your back, but never a spider monkey.
Blood pounded in my head. I ached for breath like a woman ached for her lover. I needed to breathe, especially since panic and exertion were depleting my body’s already slim stores of oxygen.
Inspiration hit. If Brown Recluse wanted a piggyback ride so badly, I’d take him for a spin.
I began spinning in the air. Faster, faster, and faster I spun. In seconds I was going around and around like a top. So fast that I generated enough wind that the gas around me was dissipating. Brown Recluse shrieked in my ear for me to stop. Yeah right, I thought.
Brown Recluse’s grip around me weakened, slipped, then fell away altogether. He was flung from me like a stone from a sling. His wail followed him like a jet’s contrail. He careened into the window of a building across the street and smashed through it.
I slowed my spinning, then stopped. I wobbled as the world continue
d to spin without me. Super-equilibrium was not one of my powers. I re-opened my cowl and hastily took a breath. The air was fresh and clean. It was like drinking cool spring water after trudging through a desert.
A blast of energy exploded against my personal shield, rocking me. A Mad Dog energy ball. Another. Then another. Twin blasts of fire struck me, one from Iceburn, one from Elemental Man. Normally I would be able to absorb the energy from the blasts without batting an eye, but I had been through too much too quickly. An airborne SUV crashed into me, no doubt flung by Silverback. It was the last straw.
I fell from the air like a shot pigeon. I hit the roof of a van. Metal shrieked, plastic snapped, glass broke. The top of the van crumpled around me a stomped soda can. Then the flung SUV fell on top of the van, pinning me between it and the van.
Moments later, big hairy hands fished me out of the wreckage. Silverback held my limp body aloft with his huge hand around my neck. He shook me like a dog shaking a caught rat. My eyes were only half open.
“Never should have left town cuz of you. You ain’t as tough as everybody thinks,” Silverback rumbled. He poked me in the chest with a finger that felt like rebar. The fangs that jutted up from the bottom of his mouth like stalagmites made his voice almost indecipherable. Thick drool oozed from around them. Oh Granny, what big teeth you have! I thought hazily. His breath smelled like his mouth had never even heard of a toothbrush, much less used one. Oh Granny, what bad breath do you have!
My eyes snapped open.
“Wrong, stupid. I’m even tougher,” I said. Though it was true I had been rocked, I had also been playing possum to catch my breath and to get close to one of the Rogues. I channeled some of the energy I’d absorbed from my recent impacts. I let it arc out of me, through Silverback’s hand around my neck, and down through the rest of his body. There was the stench of burning flesh. Silverback howled in pain. It likely felt like I was electrocuting him. Silverback’s clenched hand opened. He dropped me like a hot potato. I landed on my feet. I slammed my fist into Silverback’s stomach. I really putting my weight into it, not to mention a compressed blast of stored energy.
There was a loud pop, like a big firecracker exploding. Silverback flew backward as if he had been hit with a guided missile. His body arched up into the air. Then he fell dozens of feet away, hitting the street back-first. His big body skidded for a second, then began digging a shallow groove in the street. The street made terrific ripping sounds as Silverback barreled toward Mad Dog and Doctor Alchemy. I had been aiming for them when I punched Silverback. Doctor Alchemy somersaulted out of the way in an incredible move that would have fit right in during the Olympics. Mad Dog wasn’t so fortunate. He was bowled over by Silverback and the ripped-up street. Mad Dog landed heavily on his side. I picked up a chunk of busted concrete with my powers and clocked him on the side of the head with it to ensure that he stayed down. He was immune to my force fields, but obviously not immune to an old-fashioned smack upside the head.
Silverback’s barreling body came to a stop. Silence replaced the sound of his body tearing up the road. Dust hung in the air like fog. A mass of torn-up asphalt and dirt rose up behind Silverback’s still and battered body like a headstone. Here lies Silverback, KO’d by Omega, I thought. Rest in Pieces.
“Who else wants some?” I exclaimed. Though it wasn’t terribly catchy, maybe I was getting better at coining catchphrases. I hoped one of the spectators had recorded what I had done to Brown Recluse, Silverback, and Mad Dog. Exultation had replaced my earlier fear and panic. Six against one had been quickly slashed to three against one. Mad Dog was not moving. Silverback was also down for the count, as was Brown Recluse. I’d checked on the latter already with my telekinetic touch. He lay on the floor of the office suite he had been flung into, having been knocked cold by flying through its window.
Though I was not foolish enough to be cocky, I felt better about things. I was glad I had not called Myth, Truman, Ninja, or someone else for help. I did not need their help. I was Omega. I did not need anyone.
Doctor Alchemy’s arms pointed in my direction. Two metal pellets the size of large caliber bullets shot out his gauntlets’ tubes. They hurtled toward me. I tried to stop them, but couldn’t. Whatever had made the Rogues immune to my telekinesis obviously operated on Doctor Alchemy’s projectiles as well.
No matter. I had trained for combat relentlessly. Muscle memory took over. I twisted to the side, dodging both missiles easily.
I was about to gloat about the mighty Doctor Alchemy missing when there were two small pops behind me. Then a giant whooshing sound. I was yanked off my feet. I was pulled back through the air, like a swimmer caught in a powerful riptide. Even trying to fly forward didn’t work. I clawed the air, trying in vain to stop being pulled backward.
Debris from the street flew toward me, bounced off my shield, and then whipped past me with whizzing sounds. It felt like being caught on the business end of the hose of a giant, all-powerful vacuum cleaner. I glanced backward. I was being pulled toward a jagged hole that hung in the air like a helium balloon. About twice the diameter of a trash can lid, the hole floated several feet off the ground. The surface of the hole was so dark, it almost seemed to shimmer. Debris from the street flew into the hole. The debris disappeared as if it had never existed.
Doctor Alchemy had not missed after all. Pride goes before a fall. What a time to think of a Jamesism, one of the sayings my Dad had been so fond of using. The fact he was right did not make the Jamesism any less annoying.
Increasingly panicked, I dropped the massive force field I had maintained around me and the Revengers, hoping that jettisoning the mental distraction of holding the field in place would change my inability to stop being pulled toward the hole.
Nope. No dice.
My feet touched the surface of the hole. They meet with absolutely no resistance. The rest of my body followed, like I had been dropped off a bridge into a river.
I plunged into dark nothingness.
CHAPTER 10
Before my entire body was engulfed by darkness, my frantically groping, outstretched hands caught on . . . seemingly nothing, but definitely something tangible. I jerked to a stop, like a man falling from a building who grabs a ledge before hitting the ground. My arms and shoulders exploded in pain. They felt like they would rip free of my body as some invisible yet insistent force pulled relentlessly at me.
It was like being caught in a powerful wind tunnel. Only here—wherever here was—there was no sound of wind. There was no sound at all. I couldn’t even hear my ragged breaths.
Darkness surrounded me. The only light came from the mysterious hole I had been pulled into and now apparently was on the other side of. I held onto the lip of the hole for dear life. It was like having fallen into a dark well, with my hands clutching the lip of the well’s opening, only them keeping gravity from pulling me further down the well. In this case, a force far more powerful than mere gravity pulled relentlessly on me. It took every ounce of strength I had to hold on.
I saw Greene Street through the hole that my hands were on either side of. The street was blurry, like I viewed it through a dirty window. Trash, bits of building material, broken car parts, and other debris from Greene Street were still being pulled through the hole, slamming into my personal shield, bouncing off and past me as they traveled . . . where? I risked taking my total focus off of holding on to range outward with my telekinetic touch. Other than the debris streaming in from Greene Street, there was absolutely nothing here for as far as I could feel. It was like being in space, only without stars, planets, cosmic dust, light, or absolutely anything at all. A complete and total void.
Where was I? Why couldn’t I fly out of here? The potions and other substances that Doctor Alchemy shot out of his gauntlets were said to be magic-based. Even with my prior interactions with Millennium, I was not sure I believed in magic. Some people thought what I could do was magic, and it most definitely was not. I had learned over the years that t
hings which seemed fantastic at first usually could be explained by science and the application of reason. How, though, to explain where I was if it was not magic?
Magic or no magic, clearly the projectiles Doctor Alchemy had shot at me had done something. Created a bizarre illusion that seemed all too real? Ripped a hole through the fabric of reality? Opened a portal to another dimension? Something else entirely? I didn’t know.
My hands slipped a touch, jarring me away from thoughts about where I was. Where I was wasn’t important. Getting out of here before I slipped into oblivion was.
Except for my personal shield which stopped debris that shot out of the hole from clocking me over the head, my powers seemed otherwise useless. Only my grip on the edges of the hole kept me from being tossed deeper into wherever this was and perhaps being lost forever. I did not understand why my powers couldn’t get me out of this. It did not matter. A caveman didn’t have to understand how an acorn grew into an oak; it was more important for him to be able to climb that oak to escape a tiger.
Channeling my inner caveman, I strained, trying to pull myself out of here and back through the hole with naked brute strength. It was like doing a pull-up at the gym while someone incredibly strong simultaneously pulled on your legs.
At first, I did not move at all. Then, as I continued to strain, I slowly started to inch up. Or maybe it was forward. Hell, I could have been moving backward for all I knew. Direction seemed to have no meaning here. Except for the hole, there were no reference points in the inky blackness all around me. I did not know why my muscles could do what my far more potent powers could not, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it had to do with the nature of magic. If it was magic.
Material sucked in from the other side of the hole continued to pound me. I struggled and strained, bringing my head increasingly closer to the hole. My muscles were on fire. They began to shudder. I was grateful the Academy had emphasized the importance of a Hero being in shape. Scrawny me never would have been able to pull himself up against the force that pulled at me. Not scrawny me was having a hard enough time doing it.
Rogues Page 10