Corpies (Super Powereds Spinoff Book 1)

by Drew Hayes

  Gale struck again and again, furious blasts coming at Titan from nearly every direction. He managed to lower himself down to the ground, digging his fingers into the floor to help solidify his hold. Even with appendages literally jammed into the concrete, it was all he could do to stay in place. If they’d built their training room from weaker material he’d have been airborne already. The assault was incredible, which meant it also had to be taxing. Using abilities didn’t come free; they wore a person down like any activity. Even someone like Gale would only be able to keep it for so long.

  Of course, the ground would also only hold for so long, so neither of them was in a perfect situation.

  Finally, Titan noticed a steadily-increasing lull between attacks. He chanced a look and saw Gale, eyes still blazing, but with a noticeable sheen of sweat on her forehead. As a trained Hero, she surely had plenty more left in the tank; however, the all-out assault had definitely left her drained. She was probably trying to think of another way to come at him, to negate his strategy of rooting himself. At that moment, she was more focused on what she should do than on what was actually happening, and that was what Titan had been waiting for throughout the entire match.

  His left leg, the only appendage he had not thrust into the concrete, shifted back as he braced his foot against the corner where the wall and floor met. The first two times he’d used his trick of blasting off the walls he’d been sure to keep the range very limited. Gale was smart, she had a keen eye, and given her powers, she was probably great at visually gauging distances. She’d floated high into the air and far enough away that she’d be out of range if he replicated the technique. Which was precisely the reason Titan hadn’t let her see how strong his jumps could really be.

  Titan released his hold on the concrete and soared through the air. His right boot fell apart in tatters; it had been dug in too deeply to get extracted when he propelled himself up. Only his near-indestructability had saved his foot from a similar fate. As he flew toward Gale, he saw the shock in her face as she realized he was easily going to reach her. With her abilities, she might have still been able to redirect him or dodge; that was why he’d waited until her mind slipped away from the battlefield. It probably made a difference of less than a second in her reaction time.

  One second that secured her loss.

  His arms grabbed her before his body could make impact, bending slowly to cushion his momentum. As soon as Titan had a grip on her, he spun around in the air so that his back smashed into the wall, sparing her from a very painful, and likely bloody, sandwiching. The two tumbled to the ground, where Titan landed on his back, Gale still clutched in his large hands, saved from yet another impact.

  “Unless you’ve got some kind of ultra-resistance that would stop me from squishing you, I think we can both agree that you’re down,” Titan said.

  “That was a beyond idiotic maneuver,” Gale snapped. Her voice was firm, but Titan could feel the slight shivers racing through her body. It was no doubt a mix of nerves and adrenaline dumping through the body, a sensation that he was all too familiar with. “If I’d managed to stop you, you’d have been completely in my domain.”

  “It was a risk,” Titan admitted. “But it paid off.”

  “That is not the point! It doesn’t matter that it happened to work; it was a stupid, dangerous maneuver. You would have lost if it didn’t.”

  “No, I’d have just been in a shitty position. I’d have figured something else out. I’ve got a lot of practice. Now are you going to admit that I got you so we can be done with this ridiculousness?”

  Gale’s face reddened beneath her mask, but she gave a small nod. “I concede that you could have taken me out of the fight. You successfully subdued every member of Elemental Fury in the ambush and provided a strong showing in your assessment. Should we every require someone of your. . . talents. . . we will contact you.”

  Titan smiled and set Gale carefully on the ground. He pulled himself up next, giving a polite nod to the others that were emerging from the barrier. “You guys put up a hell of a fight.”

  “That means so much coming from you.” Gale barely managed to slip enough false-sincerity into her tone to cover the venom in her voice.

  “I get it; you still don’t like me, or you think I’m dangerous, or whatever.” Titan lowered his voice to a point that he hoped wouldn’t be picked up by the audience at home.

  “I worry that you’re reckless, and that you take unnecessary risks. Our town already has enough Heroes doing that; the last thing they need is an idol to hold up as an example of how that type of thinking works.” Gale’s own tones had lowered as well. This no doubt looked suspicious to the viewers but was still better than them being overheard.

  “You know, I’m getting real sick and tired of you making all these assumptions about me. First it was that I’m a media whore, then it was that I was reckless; I don’t even want to know what you’ll come up with tomorrow. Let’s be real clear: you’re the one who pushed this event into being, so think hard before you accuse anyone of being spotlight hungry. As for the reckless thing. . .” Titan grabbed her shoulder and pointed across the room, where Spring was freeing Granite with some sort of spray-can solvent.

  “I brought down every member of your team, and not one of them has more than light bruising. My entire power is built around hitting so hard I take people out of the fight, and none of you need so much as aspirin, let alone a healer. Think long and hard about that fact next time you want to call me reckless.”

  Titan released his grip and walked across the room to help with Granite, leaving a silent Gale staring at him from behind.

  49.

  Owen had just finished changing into his backup pants when he heard the door to the locker room open. He sat down on a bench and began to lace a pair of fresh boots, moving with a deliberate precision. Owen had snapped many a pair of laces before getting his strength under control.

  “How’d I do?”

  “Not bad, not bad at all.” Lenny took a seat next to him, his short legs almost dangling in the air from the height of the bench. “Your offense and defense portions reminded everyone that in a contest of pure might, always bet on Titan. Obviously we expected that part, though. What really impressed me was the show you put on with that last section. You let those folks shine pretty bright.”

  “I didn’t want to walk in and decimate them; they’ve got criminals to stop too. Hell, given my other duties, they’ve got a lot more than I do.” Owen finished his first boot and moved on to the second. He’d hoped that he wouldn’t need a backup costume from this assessment, but practicality and experience had both demanded he bring one along.

  “You struck a nice balance. To the untrained eye, it looked like things could have gone the other way if a few things had broken differently. They showed off their skills against a legend, and you reminded them why you have that term associated with you in the first place. Overall, it was a win across the board.” Lenny leaned forward and stared at his client. “So why do you look like someone just stole your ice cream and kicked your puppy?”

  “I don’t know,” Owen replied. “Honestly, I realize this is about as good an outcome as I could have hoped for; I guess I’m just a little miffed that I had to be here in the first place.” With the second boot done, he planted both feet on the floor and turned to meet his agent’s eyes. “When I came back, I said I was doing it to make a difference. To help people and stay out of the petty politics and bullshit that took me out the first time. Here we are, not even a month later, and I’m in a stupid pissing contest for no reason other than a Hero thought I might cause some trouble. I let myself get roped back in; now I’m pissed at myself for allowing it to happen and for the system for bringing me to this point.”

  “It’s a wet mess of shit, but that’s the life,” Lenny replied. “The reputations, the media stuff, it’s all important. Come on, Titan. You’ve been at this for a long time; you’re not some HCP senior who just got the speech. You
know what Heroes are really here for. Coming back in meant you were taking that burden on along with all the others.”

  “I’m fully aware of what I committed to. Just in one of those moods, I guess.”

  “Ah yes, ‘those moods,’ what fuckers they are.” Lenny pulled himself up from the bench and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and began tapping on the screen. “Might have something that will pull you out of that funk, though. Here.”

  Owen took the phone from Lenny; its screen was already playing a video file. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing, until he noticed the familiar costumes of his PEERS team right before a loud cheer burst forth from them. He could just make out the shape of the giant television in the corner, which all of them were watching with rapt attention. They let another scream, and Hexcellent clapped like someone had just complimented her tattoos.

  “They were cheering for you so damned loudly I was half-tempted to kick them out of my VIP accommodations,” Lenny explained. “But in the end I thought doing this might be more helpful.”

  Owen wasn’t sure what part of the fight they were watching; he only knew that they all suddenly grew very quiet. Moments later they all jumped up from their seats in excitement, even Zone and Bubble Bubble, though the latter did manage to seem more composed than the others.

  “That was when Spring stuck all those weird goo bombs on you. Poor kids really thought you might be down for the count.” Lenny reached over and took his phone back as the file finished playing, then patted Owen on his enormous shoulder. “It’s easy to lose sight of what matters when you’re entrenched in all the bullshit, but there are people out there who are happier for seeing you succeed. You are making a difference by being back in the life; I bet some kid out there has already hung a new Titan poster over his bed. So, you still having a mood?”

  “I think I’m good.” Owen pulled himself off the bench, pausing only to make sure that his costume was on straight. There were going to be reporters and cameras when he stepped out of this locker room; he wanted to make sure that Titan looked his best. Just in case fans were watching. “Hey, Lenny, did I ever thank you?”

  “For the generous portion of the profits I got us from this whole clusterfuck? No, you didn’t, but nothing says thanks quite like a bottle of fifty-year-old scotch.”

  “Not for the money, though I’ll be watching for a check. I meant for making me join up with a team when I came back. As hard as I tried to fight it at the time, it seems so obvious now that you were right. Those kids have probably kept me more centered than anything else since I’ve gotten back in, and I wouldn’t have them if not for you.”

  “Any agent worth his salt knows what his client needs to stay in peak condition. For you, it’s a network of people who depend on you. For others, it’s ego-stroking sycophants or more drugs and sex than a seventies rock festival. Yours involves a lot less blowback, which means a lot less work for me, so it’s my pleasure. Now let’s get out there already, and remember to pimp the fact that we’ll have DVDs for sale next week.”

  “Whatever you say, Lenny.”

  50.

  When Owen finally got home that night, he was worn out. Not physically, of course; even as respectable a fight as Elemental Fury had put up wasn’t enough to drain his body’s reserves. No, this was a mental weariness that came from shaking hands, smiling for cameras, and just generally schmoozing. He’d have skipped all the post-assessment junk if it was at all viable, but even ignoring the fact that there might be people looking up to him, it was necessary damage control.

  Seeing their Heroes fight against one another could be rough on those who looked to them as a united front, especially children. The interviews and smiles between Titan and people who’d just been trying to bring him down showed everyone that it was all good-natured, nothing more than a game people with super powers played against one another. The truth of what motivated the match in the first place was irrelevant; all that mattered was making sure everyone outside the combatants thought it had been their version of a hard-fought baseball game.

  Once he was finally safe inside his sparse bedroom, Owen peeled away the layers of Titan, thankful to be simply himself again, if only for a short while. Lenny was already talking about a few new meetings and perhaps a sponsorship deal, opportunities that had come in so fast there was no way the small agent hadn’t already been working on them long before the bout. Lenny was the best, but that also meant being his client could get a bit tiring from time to time.

  A long, hot shower washed away enough of Owen’s fugue that when he stepped into his room, he quickly noticed a small light blinking on his bedside table. It was his Hero earpiece, letting him know that he had messages. They were non-vital; otherwise Dispatch would have found a way to contact him. No, the light only came on when one Hero wanted to relay something to another who was considered offline. They’d probably been sent when Owen was doing all his interviews; he’d made sure to let Dispatch know he didn’t want any non-emergency interruptions.

  With a weary sigh, Owen picked up the communicator and slid it into his ear. “Titan, checking in for message relay.”

  “Dispatch recognizes Titan, and congratulates him on his showing today.”

  Neutral and flat though her words were, Owen felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He remembered her encouragement from earlier in the day with a fond glow. Dispatch tried to keep herself permanently neutral, but every now and then a touch of her true self shined through.

  “Thank you for the congratulations, and the encouragement,” Owen replied.

  “No thanks required. Are you ready for your messages?”

  “I am.” There was a slight click on the other side of the line as a recording started up. A few seconds of silence rolled and a familiar voice began speaking in Owen’s ear.

  “Titan, this is Topsy. Wanted to say I caught the show today, and you did us old-timers proud. Way to remind them what the Gentle Hammers were all about. Anyway, we’ve known each other too long for me to beat around the bush: I’m sure you know what happened with my team a while back. I could use your help, if you don’t mind coming on to do a little freelance consulting. Every remaining member of the Wild Bucks saw what you did today, and I think they’d listen to whatever advice you offered. I understand if your plate is too full, just let me know.”

  Silence returned as Topsy’s message ended. Owen would no doubt accept his friend’s request; that much was a mere trifle of what was owed between them. However, he had no intention of saying anything inspiring to these young Heroes. Instead, he was going to lay down the kind of law that was etched into stone by prophets.

  “Titan, this is Zero.” A new voice was speaking on the communicator, and Owen realized that the next message had begun to play. “We’ve met once or twice, though I’ve never had the pleasure of working with you. You may or may not be aware, but I am no longer working active Hero duty; I have retired to be the dean of one of the Hero Certification Programs. There is a small matter I’d like to discuss with you, should you have the time. Feel free to call through Dispatch; she can plug you in to my usual line of communication. Thank you.”

  Well, that couldn’t be good. Owen knew very well who Zero was: the Hero who had retired to run the Lander Hero Certification Program. The same HCP that had accepted five former-Powereds into its ranks, one of them with the same last name as Owen himself. He was all too familiar with the Lander HCP, and whatever reason Zero had for calling him, it almost certainly had to be a bad one.

  “Salutations and congratulations, my good oaf.” It took Owen a minute to place this voice; it was familiar, but not excessively so. He realized who it was only a second before they gave their name anyway. “This is Jeremiah, in case you’ve already forgotten my voice after our long discussion on theoretical robotics. I’m calling because while you were knocking the stuffing out of the biggest team on the block, I may have found a bit more interesting information. There’s no need to t
ry and return my call; in fact, you won’t be able to if you try, not for a few days. Instead, you can meet me tomorrow night at The Sleek Minx around seven. Have your costume ready, but come in wearing civvies. Or don’t, if you aren’t all that curious. Up to you, though I will say this much: I do not expect tomorrow night to be boring.”

  “That concludes your messages,” Dispatch said. “Would you like me to patch you through to anyone?”

  Owen considered his options. The one he most wanted to talk with was Jeremiah, but Subtlety Heroes rarely joked about being unreachable. It was the smart move, too, luring Owen in with the subject that interested him in order to have extra muscle on hand. Jeremiah was clearly good at what he did, which made the prospect of seeing what lead he’d caught all the more tempting. Still, he’d said he’d be unreachable, so there was no point in trying to call.

  Topsy was the more obvious choice, but Owen wanted to mull things over a bit before he called his old friend. They needed to be clear on what Owen would be doing if he went over to talk to the Wild Bucks, and there was no way for Owen to do that until he’d actually figured out what he wanted to do with them. Details would change as he learned the situation, but he still needed to go in with limits and an outline.

  That left Zero, the one Owen was dreading the most. If the Lander HCP Dean was calling him, then it had to be something bad. Save for one week together last spring, Owen hadn’t seen his sons since he left his family, and even that reunion hadn’t exactly been heartwarming. No, the only reason the dean would call him instead of their mother was if it was something to do with their powers. Owen was the closest match to Hershel and Roy’s abilities that he knew of, so if an issue came up then he was likely the best resource for fixing it.

  At least, that was what he hoped. There was also the possibility, no matter how small, that something really bad had happened. The sort of bad that required parental notification. The boys had been doing better and the HCP ran a tight ship. . . but accidents did happen. Owen’s voice was heavy as he gave Dispatch her orders.