by Hayes, Drew
“That puts you at risk, though. It might be better to let Roy take the brunt of the attack and slowly wear our enemy down,” Alex countered.
“Except that time is the most important asset we have, and that wastes it,” Camille shot back.
They both had valid points, and on his own Roy might have been lost for what to do. Thankfully, he was no longer by himself, and Hershel was no stranger to tactical thinking. “You’re both right, so here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to fight this Sim into the open. Alex, you have good control, so I want you to telekinetically carry or Force-lift or whatever Camille into the air. When there’s an opening, drop her on the Sim’s back so she can try her touch. If it works, great, if it fails then just try to help me tear it apart as fast as possible. Any objections?”
Neither protested immediately, so Roy took that as agreement. Camille was right about time being crucial, after all. One more thought struck him, this idea not from Hershel but rather from a cartoon Roy had watched in childhood. It was a silly thought, honestly, yet there was some merit in expediency. Plus, it had the potential to look really cool.
“Before that, though, I think the less warning we give this Sim the better. Alex, you’ve been working on raw power. Think you can lift and throw something pretty heavy?” Roy asked.
“Like your bat?” Alex’s eyes were already on the ultra-dense material in Roy’s hands, a step ahead of him.
“Like my bat with a little more weight added. I want you to throw me into the trailer as hard as you can.”
208.
“Wow. That is a shitload of menacing robots.” Violet peered over the side of the rooftop at the mass of Sims below. The human-like robots were surrounding the red office building to which Will had sent her, Alice, and Amber, which certainly lent weight to the idea that this was where the big bad was holed up. Unfortunately, since the staff hadn’t known Will was going to bust out drones, all those Sims could just be bait meant to draw them in and fight a decoy. It didn’t matter either way. They still had to find the potential Armageddon Sim, it was just a matter of figuring out how to make the approach.
“We’re here, Will. I dropped us onto a nearby roof so we could scope things out. If this Sim is throwing off energy inside the building, can you give us a floor? Right now going in from the roof looks like our best bet, but if our target is on the ground level I’m going to assume there’s another army in the upper floors between them and us.” Alice wasn’t pacing; in fact, she was remarkably still and calm as she rattled off details into the comms. Sometimes, Violet was a little worried by how good Alice had gotten at staying cool under pressure. It was starting to feel like nothing really got to her, and that was a dangerous attitude for a Hero to have… especially one going into Subtlety.
“My last drone sweep had the energy output concentrated on floor number two.” Will’s voice came through all of their communicators, even though only Alice had asked the question. “The building has five floors from what I can tell, and your suspicions were right. I’m picking up a lot of thermal signatures matching that of Sims on the higher levels.”
“So we either fight the army in the street or the one waiting for us in the halls.” Amber licked her lips, the pre-fight adrenaline clearly already coursing through her veins. “I say we go through the front. We’ve got the element of surprise instead of them, we can see where most of our enemies are laid out, and with the Sims all bunched up like that I can probably wipe the bulk of them out with a single concentrated blast.”
Although Violet wished there had been a touch less eagerness in Amber’s voice, it was hard to argue with her logic. Fighting their way down one floor at a time would take too long; a single shot could down the majority of their foes while she and Alice picked off the remainder. Violet was about to voice her approval of the plan, but Alice spoke first.
“I like the idea, and you’re right that we can’t afford to piss away the time it would take to fight our way through. But let me make one change to the plan. Instead of blasting them, what if I reversed the gravity in and around the entire building? Our outside foes would go all the way up to whatever the top of this simulation is, and everyone inside would be pinned to the ceiling. Amber, you could blast us a hole into the second floor so we don’t have to risk anyone on the first taking a ranged shot at us.”
“It would be quick,” Violet agreed. “But that’s a damn big area, Alice. Are you sure you’re going to be able to change and hold the gravity for all of it, all while presumably keeping us unaffected?”
“Pretty sure. It is still a risk,” Alice admitted. “But if there was ever a time to go for it, I’d say this is it. I’ll start with the outside group; clearing them will at least let us blast into the second floor easily. And if I start to lose control I can drop that area first. I think the fall would take most of those Sims out of the equation.”
“But that’s you doing all the work,” Amber pointed out.
“Oh no, not by a long shot. Holding up that much gravity over that big of an area is going to take all I’ve got. Once we’re inside, I’ll be almost useless for anything else. You and Violet will have to be the ones to take out the Sim we came for, plus any who manage to make trouble along the way.”
It didn’t escape Violet’s notice that Alice had put together a plan that not only indulged Amber’s penchant for destruction and need to feel important, but also minimized the amount of life that would be lost. Enemies or not, Alice was keeping her kill count as low as possible. Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected as she seemed after all.
“I think this is as good a plan as we’ll get in time,” Violet said. “We’re ready when you are.”
Alice moved slightly closer to the edge of the roof, her face tightening in concentration. “Since we have a ticking apocalypse clock, I’d say there’s no time like the present.”
* * *
Sneaking into the museum was easy; Vince just had to follow Chad’s lead. Between his enhanced hearing and exceptional sight, Chad was able to locate potential enemies long before they ever saw him. Avoiding every Sim in their path (what few that they saw) they made their way inside to a building that was surprisingly empty, given the situation. There was still a bit of debris here and there, signs of earlier looting, but overall the place was pristine compared to the city around it. Vince wondered, if Will hadn’t pointed them in this direction, would any of the students have thought to investigate somewhere like this?
“Will, can you give us any idea of where the power source is located?” Chad asked. “This museum is huge, and the distorting acoustics are making it hard to get a lock on where sound is coming from. I’ve got four potential targets right now, so any direction you can give is helpful.”
They only received silence for a moment, long enough that Vince had time to contemplate how screwed they would all be without Will guiding them. Finally, Will replied. “Sorry, managing a lot right now. I’m doing another sweep but this place is pretty well shielded. I guess they don’t want people snooping around, figuring out how to rob the joint. Sorry. I can see the power leaking out the sides but nothing more. You’ll have to search for the location.”
“Thanks anyway, we’ll keep you posted.” Chad lowered his hand from the earpiece, walking over to a large directory charting the various areas of the museum. It really was huge, so big and detailed Vince wondered if there was a real-world version in some city he could go check out one day. They’d never find their guy if they searched one exhibit at a time. Even with Chad having it down to four targets, they might take too long.
After several long seconds of staring at the directory, Chad pointed to a section in the northeast of the museum.
“That’s the one.”
“You’re sure? Did you hear something?” Vince asked.
“No, the sounds are still muddled,” Chad replied. “But that is where one of them is coming from. And besides, I know something about Dean Blaine that tells me this is the right choice. He doesn’
t like to broadcast it, but he’s got a bit of a flair for the theatrical.”
Vince edged closer, looking down at the directory at the section where Chad was pointing. “An exhibit about the origins of Supers and the creation of the Hero Certification Program. I guess it would be a pretty appropriate place to fight for the fate of the world.”
209.
The thing about trailers was that they ultimately had little more than sculpted tinfoil for walls, and to a man who could burst through concrete, a barrier like that barely even registered. To his credit, Alex had been working on his mental muscle, and he got Roy up to an impressive speed before hurling him bat-first into the trailer with the glowing windows. Normally, Roy wouldn’t have risked putting his weapon in front without knowing what was inside the trailer, but between Will’s sweep of the place and the time limit of their situation, it felt like a risk worth taking.
Everything came at Roy in a flash. He was moving too quickly to take in fine details – an outer wall, a brief glimpse of the interior of a trailer, and a very surprised looking Sim woman. Then they were outside again as Roy’s momentum carried him and the Sim straight through the opposite side. Despite the disorientation, Roy didn’t hesitate; he hit the ground running and slammed the Sim off her feet. She was obviously armored since she was still in one piece, and she had some sort of green energy glowing around her arms. Rather than find out what that energy did, Roy stooped low and pressed his bat against her torso before she could raise her arms, pinning her to the ground with the weight of the dense weapon and his own incredible strength. It was a cleaner capture than he’d dared hope for; they wouldn’t even need to fly Camille around if she could get over to them fast enough.
Roy was turning his head to call to her when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. That was the only warning before an oversized fist smashed into his skull, catching him so off-guard that he lost his grip on the bat and went hurtling several feet through the air. It didn’t hurt, he noticed that before landing, but it still had enough force to uproot him from the ground. That probably meant if the other two caught one of these blows, they were done for.
Scrambling to his feet, Roy surveyed the battlefield and quickly realized their mistake. Will’s scan of the trailer had made them think they only had one opponent; however, more Sims were pouring up from a hole in the ground under the trailer’s shredded remains. A secret basement, and in a trailer no less. There was zero chance that kind of addition had been covered by the trailer park’s board of directors, but it was the least of their issues at the moment.
A big male Sim, presumably the one who punched Roy, was helping Roy’s opponent up from under the bat. She still looked dazed and unsteady, a small mercy that gave them a few precious seconds to work with. Three more Sims emerged, staying clumped together and advancing on Alex and Camille. None of them were showing signs of what powers they had yet, although given the difficulty of the trial, they probably weren’t going to be pushovers. Roy forced himself to stay calm, to spend an extra moment or two thinking before he sprang into action. They weren’t getting more than one try at handling this fast; he needed to make it count.
Right now there were two variables already defined: a strongman Sim and one with energy-based abilities. Alex and Camille could handle that; one enemy apiece was practically easy-mode at this point in their training. The other three, unfortunately, had yet to show their powers. That made them unknown and dangerous. If this were real, if the woman shaking off his last blow were trying to end the world, then that made the answer easy to figure out. Roy had to give his friends room to work in, even if it meant going up against enemies that might be able to hurt or even kill him. He could take those blows; the world wouldn’t withstand nuclear annihilation. Hit and get hit. That was what a strongman did.
Roy was tempted to yell out his plan to the others until he remembered that Alex’s “non-telepathy” sure came with a lot of telepathy. Instead, he thought his plan as hard as he could and locked eyes with Alex, who gave him a quick nod. That done, Roy hunkered down and launched himself across the trailer park. Running would be a waste of time, and besides, he’d already been a human cannonball once today. May as well keep the theme alive.
Roy whipped through the air, slamming into the back of one of the unidentified Sims and shoving his knees into its spine. He didn’t know if it would be able to get back up and fight again, but judging from the crunches he’d heard on impact and the lack of movement below the waist, it seemed like a small risk. The other Sims didn’t take to losing their friend kindly, however. The taller one’s eyes started glowing and less than a second later Roy felt a burst of pain across his chest as he was struck by ocular lasers, which knocked him off the third Sim’s body.
Shit. It had been a while since anything down here hurt him. Part of him, probably the Hershel part, wondered if they’d been saving the strongest Sims for this exact trial to make sure Roy had to fight with real stakes on the line.
As he leapt to his feet, Roy was relieved to see that despite the pain, there was minimal injury where the lasers had hit. Patches of his uniform were burned away, yet the skin underneath was only reddened slightly, like he’d gotten a sunburn. It still stung, but that was just pain. Roy could ignore it until the work was done. Unfortunately, when he glanced up from his chest, Roy noticed that the other Sim, a shorter woman who’d darted away upon his landing, had slipped around to his side. She was fast; had they managed to replicate super-speed in a Sim? She opened her mouth, and Roy realized that speed definitely wasn’t her power.
Her voice felt like knives across Roy’s brain, a screech that made his stomach turn, eyes blur, and sense of balance vanish. It sent Roy staggering; only years of training and a mile-wide stubborn streak kept him on his feet. Sadly, that just made him a bigger target for the blast of eye-lasers that hit him in the stomach. If he’d eaten breakfast, Roy would have lost it on the ground in that moment. He was getting it from both sides; neither Sim doing real injury yet still managing to take him out of the fight. Standing there, being hit by their simultaneous attacks, Roy did something that only a few of the watching Heroes, the ones who really knew what they were looking at, took notice of.
Roy grinned like the cat who’d caught the canary. Because Roy knew something these buckets of future scrap didn’t. They weren’t taking him out of the fight – he was keeping them distracted. Getting smacked around might not come with glory or dignity, but it was still vital to the mission. Because while they’d been caught up with him, Alex and Camille had been given ample time to take care of the other two. He didn’t dare glance over – he couldn’t risk diverting the Sims’ attention – but Roy didn’t need to. They were his team, his friends, and he trusted them to finish things off just like they’d trusted him to hold the line.
Then, without warning, the voice stopped. Roy glanced over to see the Sim staring wide-eyed with her mouth open, nothing coming out. Right… he always forgot that Alex could block sound. That done, Camille slipped behind her, laying one hand on the Sim’s neck and sending her to the ground in a heap.
Never one to waste time, Roy took the opportunity to rush the last Sim while he was charging up for another eye-blast. The shot never got off, as Roy grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved his face into the ground. All those lasers would hit now were earthworms and dirt. Camille stepped nimbly over, touched the Sim’s scalp, and that was that.
Finally able to get his bearings, Roy looked over the remains of their battleground. Both the strongman Sim and the green-energy Sim were down, although the strongman Sim was still conscious, trying to move along the ground using only its neck. Apparently Alex had cut some important bits that functioned like a spine. As for the energy-Sim, Roy didn’t know if she was dead or alive, only that she was still and not a single blip of energy ran across those hands. They’d done it.
“Will, our target is down,” Alex reported. He looked a little worn, and there were some dusty patches on
his uniform where he’d clearly been tossed to the ground, but he didn’t seem injured. With Camille around, none of them had to worry about that. “Was that the one? Did we win?”
“I can only presume that we’d have been told if that was the case,” Will replied through the comms. “It must be one of the other targets. You should start moving north to lend aid. Although it’s not going to be easy to get there. Your fight drew the attention of nearby Sims, all of whom are converging on your location.”
Roy walked over where he’d landed after Alex’s first throw and picked up his bat, giving it a brief test swing as was his habit. “Bring ’em on. We’ll plow our way through and get to the others with time to spare. Ain’t nobody stopping this team.”
210.
“There must be some sort of distress system in place, fighting or dying Sims calling out to other nearby units. That’s the only explanation for how they keep traveling toward our people after a battle.” Will was hunched over his portable drone console, clacking away furiously. Thomas, unsure if anything he could say would help, focused on keeping the energy dome intact.
While for most his energy was hard to see through, Thomas could peer through it with ease. That was how he was able to wrap himself in the stuff like a suit, and that was why he knew how many Sims Shane had already taken out. Thomas had no idea why Shane wasn’t calling the fights in – maybe he didn’t want to worry or distract Will from the task at hand –but it was getting brutal. Three groups had come through already, each progressively bigger than the last. Will was too busy tracking the potential-Armageddon targets to check his own area, though that hadn’t hindered Shane in the least. He’d torn through each group relentlessly, shadows whipping about and striking from every angle. Some Sims took a few more blows than others, but Shane was able to deliver dozens of strikes, often to the exact same spot, in the span of seconds.