by Ben Mason
“No!” She cried out. “Please.”
Kessler stopped.
“Please don’t hurt him. It’s not his fault. He—he has a kid.”
Kessler regarded Bryan for a moment the way a cat studied a piece of yarn. His claws flicked back and forth.
“I’ll take your stupid tests. I’ll do what you want.”
“I’m sure you will. You’ve learned your lesson,” he said, raising a claw upward. “Almost. Remember this moment. This happened because of you.”
As Katie started to scream she thought she heard a car engine in the distance.
31
Katie tried to get up and realized her nerves were toast.
“Remember, this is your fault,” Kessler said as he stalked closer to Bryan.
Katie felt her throat tighten a growl rumbling as she struggled to get up.
The growl got louder and Katie realized it wasn’t her right before a black Dodge Charger slammed into Kessler from the side, pushing him across the street and pinning him to a brick wall. the front of the car collapsed inward like an accordion as Kessler froze, curious. His claws twitched with anticipation.
Katie was about to warn the driver when the words died on her tongue.
“Mom?”
It didn’t make any sense, but there she was popping out of the car in sweats along some skinny black guy in a lab coat.
“Katie!” Mary cried, running to her daughter and pulling her into a bear hug. “Thank God you’re all right.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you. I’ve been trying to find you like crazy. No one told me where you went.”
Katie stared into her mother’s watering eyes as comprehension dawned on her. “Kessler lied to me. He told me you signed off on the experiment.”
Mary blinked for a second, her face falling in despair. “You believed him?”
Embarrassment hit Katie like a freight train. She blushed and stared at her feet.
“Oh honey, I know I’ve failed as a mom since dad died but I didn’t realize how much I hurt you.”
Katie opened her mouth to speak and a whimper came out. Throwing her arms around her mother she squeezed (well, kind of squeezed. The whole superpower thing meant she had to hold back.)
“I love you, mom.”
“I love you, too, Katie. We’re sticking together from now on.”
“I disagree,” Kessler said as he pushed the car away. He started moving again, claws ready.
Mary stood in front of him pulling out her pistol from her waistband as she took the Weaver stance. “She goes with you over my dead body.”
“Duly noted and willingly accommodated.” Kessler turned to the black guy.
“As for you Hiram, I’m disappointed. I thought this emotional response beneath you. And you call yourself a man of science.”
“Look at yourself,” Hiram said, trying to scowl and hide his shaking hands.
“When I have time. There are so many variables to test. But first.” Moving with an unnatural grace he beelined toward Mary.
Katie had to give her mom credit. She stood her ground and fired in a steady burst until the gun clicked empty.
“A mother’s love? How moving.”
“Get behind me, mom,” Katie said.
Mary didn’t move.
“Trust me. I’ve got this.”
Mary hesitated, tears running down her face as she glanced back at her daughter.
Katie smiled and winked. “I’m a superhero.”
Mary stepped back just as Kessler came in for the kill. Straining the muscles in her arms, Katie decided to try an experiment of her own. Stretching her arms back she smacked her hands together in a loud clap that sounded like a large peel of thunder. Kessler screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his ears.
“I told you I’m Storm Girl,” she said, pulling her arms back again.
“ENOUGH!” Kessler screamed. In one swift motion he grabbed her and swung her in a circle twice before letting go. Air rushed past her as she tried to right herself. She kept climbing up higher, rushing toward a large skyscraper. As the glass and cement came closer, Katie took in a breath and tried to let go.
I’m coming up to see you again, Dad, Katie thought before darkness took her.
32
An empty void swallowed Mary’s world.
She felt hollowed out as she watched her only child, the last part of her family, smash into a building, a purple surge of energy erupting on impact.
Her child was dead and so was she despite the fact that she was still breathing.
Mary gritted her teeth and, taking her gun, threw it against Kessler, watching as it bounced off of his hide.
The monstrous scientist sighed, his shoulders sagging. “What a waste. I’m going to have to procure another sample. It will take weeks—maybe months—to recreate the same conditions.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“How poetic. I suppose it would be a kindness to send you to her.”
Mary closed her eyes, waiting for the end. A blast of wind shot past her as she was slammed to the ground. Opening her eyes she saw Hiram on top of her. He sprang up and stood between them.
“I can’t let you do this.”
“You can’t stop me.”
You’re right, I can’t. But I can’t live with myself if I let you. My parents would roll over in their graves if they saw me standing by the sidelines.”
“Again with the sentiment,” Kessler growled. “You’re more worthless than I thought.”
Mary stood up, taking Hiram’s hand and squeezing it. Sometimes being a hero meant having the strength to face the impossible. If that was the case, she was proud to face it with the man at her side.
The sound of building thunder came again right before an arc of purple lightning shot down from the sky and slammed into Kessler. A figure stood in the middle of it and—even though she wasn’t able to see—Mary knew in a way only mothers do that it was Katie
As fast as she appeared she vanished. Kessler staggered to his feet, his balance gone. Another bolt hit him. Then another. Then a third one. Each time a crack like breaking tree trunks sounded as her child slammed into the monster that had hurt her.
“That’s my girl,” she whispered.
Kessler lay pancaked in the middle of the street, the asphalt around him cratered, struggling to get his head up. One last flash of lighting hit and when it cleared Katie stood on top of him, her clothes smoking, her hair sticking up at different angles. Reaching down she slammed her hands over his ears rattling his brain with the sonic boom.
Kessler dropped instantly his body going still.
For a second Katie stood there unmoving, her face growing harder by the moment.
“Sweetie?” Mary said, a sick feeling building in her gut. She struggled to say more, but the smell of ozone burned in her nostrils and the lightning blasts had left her half-blind and disoriented.
Katie pushed Kessler’s head to one side, his temple angled toward her. Purple lightning started to spark and crackle as she curled her fist. Then with a primal scream she swung downward creating another explosion.
33
Leon hobbled out of the car in a panic. It was all Lee could do to restrain him. Ever since he had seen the purple lightning he figured things had gone wrong.
The feeling got stronger as he passed mangled bodies, cars and buildings. the gun in his hands started to feel insignificant.
Grady was moving behind both of them, covering their backs. He was doing well all things considered even though he was hiding a limp from his daughter, or trying to anyway.
A loud boom came from ahead of them and Leon ignored the pain in his leg (and the rest of his body) as he surged forward, dragging Lee along.
Mary Legault sat on the ground with her hands covering her mouth, Hiram Brickhouse at her side. He didn’t bother asking how that pairing had occurred. When you’re facing monsters and trying to protect superheroes office gos
sip is the last thing on your mind.
Leon lowered his pistol as he saw Katie standing over Kessler’s unmoving body, breathing heavy. Relief washed over him followed by a nagging question: Had she crossed the line?
As the last of the dust cleared away, Leon saw a crater where Katie’s fist had landed inches away from Kessler’s head. There were tears in her eyes.
“I can’t do it. He’s awful, but I can’t.”
Leon struggled to master himself. “That’s what makes you great.” Katie stumbled forward and met her mother in a hug. Leon pulled an arm around Lee and tugged her in close.
“This isn’t over,” Hiram said, shaking the dust from his clothes. “The government’s going to come in and lock Kessler down and us next.There’s no way they’re going to let this kind of thing leak out. Even if we run, they’ll hunt us down. It’s our word against theirs.”
“Maybe not,” Grady said. He held up a small digital camera. “While old and boring was busy telling my daughter and her friend what saps they were for believing in freedom, I got this bad boy out and got it down. It won’t win any Oscars for cinematography, but I figure it’ll even the odds. I figure I’ll put it on my website and see where it goes from there.”
Leon broke out into a smile while Lee gave a whoop of excitement.
“And we can work on a cure for Katie, right?” Mary asked.
“If that’s what she wants,” Lee said. They all turned to face Katie.
34
Save the day and you still had to answer to a bunch of adults. Some things never changed.
Katie blushed as she saw everyone staring at her. Didn’t she get a few meals, a hot shower and a bajillion hours of sleep before she had to answer a question like that?
The idea of running, or dealing with the government for the rest of her life left Katie feeling nauseous. It was cool shooting lightning and making thunder and being strong and fast and stuff, but it was terrifying having to use it. All she wanted to do was disappear. With her powers she was going to be in the spotlight until she died (which also might become a routine thing).
It all came down to one question:
Is there anybody else?
Stupid morally correct choices.
“No,” Katie said. “I need to be here. At least until Kessler is turned back to normal.”
Mary frowned but nodded.
“Hey, how about a special message for Blacklistliberty.com?” Grady asked as he held up the camera.
“Dad,” Lee sighed.
“No, it’s okay,” Katie said. She tried to straighten her hair and fix her clothes. It was a total lost cause. “I’m ready.”
Grady gave her the go ahead and then stopped, lowering the camera. “You got the duds and the powers. I won’t say the S-word again, but you got a name?”
Katie smiled. “I think I do,” she said.
Above them thunder rumbled overhead like the sound of warm laughter and loving pride.
Excerpt from Gravitas
Prologue
The sleek jet was silent as it cut through the frozen Siberian snowstorm. Inside the spare cabin four men were silent. The two guards at the back had their guns trained on one man.
Christoph Holtz thought it was mildly amusing. “Tell them to put them down, Robert. I’d hate to crash in the middle of nowhere.”
The fourth man, Robert Warren, waved them down. He was dressed in a decently tailored blue suit, one made for those of middle income, and had the silver hair and sharp lines of a high-class government employee. His eyes were steel blue and held plenty of secrets.
Christoph was one of them. So were this mission and the item they were going to collect.
For his own efforts Christoph wore a tailored black suit—high-end, thank you very much. It was a testament to his years as a top worker and his own skills that he preferred formal dinner attire to tactical for jobs. It gave him a sense of elegance.
His hair was silver and swept back, his gray eyes riveted to the government minder sitting across from him. If someone had been painting a portrait he might have pegged him as minor European nobility rather than a child of Skokie, Illinois who had polished off his accent.
Christoph allowed a smile to flit across his mouth as he saw the two young men lower their weapons, their eyes going to each other in fear and warning. He normally hated intimidating the normals, but they had violated a cardinal rule in Christoph’s mind: They had been rude, insulting both his power and pointing at him.
Finger or gun, it was all the same.
“What are we getting, Robert?” Christoph said as he turned his gray eyes on the minder.
Robert sighed, pulling a metal disk from his jacket. “Still not going to call me Bob, are you?”
“It’s not proper.”
Robert gave a shrug. He tapped the disk with his thumb while he held it and a glowing hologram shot out. It was of the mountain they were approaching, along with a circular building jutting out of it. “We’ve got some intel on an item being held by the Russians. Or maybe it’s the Chinese. Or even renegade Karpathians.”
Karpathians? The idea of those underwater hermits either losing some technology or having a traitor give it away shocked Christoph. What was the world coming to?
“Needless to say we have no right to check it out or even attempt to enter this place.”
“Which is why you need me.”
“Exactly,” Robert said, as he tapped the disk again. The mountain disappeared leaving the building. A flashing red dot appeared on the far right side of the roof and then directly down below it. “We’ll try and land you as close as we can to the entry point. You work your magic, then…” Robert gave a tip of his head this way and that.
“Get out in one piece with the item,” Christoph finished.
“You do it and we wipe the slate clean. New name, no record, and we’ll add in a pension. So—you know—you don’t go back to ‘work.’”
Christoph gave a soft chuckle. “Unlikely. I’m getting too old to stay in the game. I’m turning sixty-one next month.”
“Congrats.”
“Tell me that after I get back,” Christoph said.
One of the soldiers touched his ear and gave a nod. “Gravitas to position.”
Christoph got up, his knees clicking a little. A part of growing old. He was doing better than your average soon-to-be senior, but it didn’t make it any less depressing.
A small ramp opened from the middle of the craft, a gust of sharp air blasting up, making his hands clench. I’m getting too old for this.
The thought depressed him. He forced himself to turn it around. No one lasted in any business forever. Certainly not in his. The deal he was getting (and for one job) was more than a good option. It was the best he could hope for.
Closing his eyes as he moved down the ramp, the frost collecting on his lapels, he exhaled and then jumped.
Three seconds. That was the amount of time Christoph allowed himself to enjoy it before he started increasing his density. He wasn’t sure what kind of metal the Russians or whatever silly organization that was hiding in their country was using, but if they were able to infiltrate the Karpathians, it was going to be top-notch.
He hurtled through the air faster as he became strong as steel, then diamond. His arms went to his sides and his eyelids came slamming down. The one drawback of using the power on himself. It didn’t leave much room for nuance. If it had been his one move, he would’ve had a career on the C-list for sure.
Thank God for small mercies.
Landing on the roof, he felt the metal bend beneath him, crunching in, squealing as his weight pressed down. A second later it dropped and so did he. There wasn’t enough time to pull away all of the applied density so Christoph settled for steel. When he landed it made his knees wobble a little.
He sighed. Too much, too soon. His joints weren’t what they had been before. Standing up, clutching a metal stand for support he got up and…realized he was holding the base of the sta
nd that housed the helmet.
“Well, hurray for me,” he said snatching it up. Holding it in the light from the hole, he saw it was a large chrome contraption with a lot of bulk piled on top. The kind of thing he bet Mental Master or the Sinister Synapse would have cackled over. Poor old fools. Time hadn’t been kind to them, nor had the media portrayals. At least they weren’t around to see it.
The light vanished as Christoph appraised the item. Staring up he saw a secondary, emergency shutter had been deployed to patch the opening. A second later an alarm started screeching with tacky red lights flashing every five feet.
“Wonderful,” he said not wanting to think about the damage to his ears. He had been avoiding hearing aids. Getting out of this place was going to be a nightmare now. Adjusting the lapels of his jacket (both horribly torn, it was going to take a miracle worker to save this mess), he marched toward the door.
It was one of those sliding metal contraptions complete with a hand scanner and number code interface off to the side. The bolts were supposed to be able to withstand any pressure up to five tons. So Christoph made it seven, directly down. The door tore away, sliding like a cheap garage door.
A moment later gunfire erupted. It was dazzling, forcing Christoph to hunch down, not to protect his body, but his eyes. He had suspected trouble and left the applied gravity field in front of him, forcing the bullets to drop harmlessly and embed themselves in the ground. Stepping over them, still hunched over the helmet with his eyes shut, he was sure there was more gunfire being added, forcing him to create a bubble around himself.
In the old days it would have been the wave of a hand, with an offhand-comment about the dangers of repetitive actions and insanity. Now it was forcing him into a sweat, making him break into a clumsy jog as he rushed down what he was sure was the main stretch of hallway to the outer gate, and, to his freedom.