Hellfire

by Michelle Schad

  With a heavy sigh and one last drag, Hadi got himself up, shuffling out of his apartment while twisting himself into his light coat. Living above the bar made things much easier, though he still had to go through the side alley to get to the front door of the bar. The side door to the bar did not have a handle on the alley’s side so there was no way in, only out. The night was cool and windy, whipping Hadi’s semi-long hair into his face. He needed a trim but was too lazy to bother with it and, the longer length suited him. It was not nearly as long as Amir’s - the only plus that his father saw in Hadi compared to Amir.

  He put the thought out of his mind, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he trotted around the corner of the building to the 13th Hour. It was quiet, all things considered. The tiny bell above the door jingled and that was the only warning Hadi got. A gunshot went off with such volume and force that Hadi dropped to the ground out of instinct as the door splintered right where his head had been mere moments before.

  “HADI!” Amir shouted only to have the butt of a pistol slammed into his nose.

  “Hey, asshole, pick on someone your own size!” Moose snarled, though there was clearly little he could do about the situation unfolding inside the bar.

  There were never any patrons on Monday evenings, except Greg who was unconscious on the floor with a giant goose egg forming on his temple, and Virgil who looked ready to chew stones. Three men in black with stereotypical ski masks over their faces held guns to the hostages, while a fourth man stuffed all the cash in the register and safe into a gray duffle bag.

  “Bad timing, buddy,” a fifth said as Hadi was hauled to his feet, gun pressed to his head. There was little he could do but put his hands up, as if doing so would prevent the bullet from barreling right through his skull to the other side of the bar if the gun discharged. He looked at the others, the fear in their eyes, the concern, the rage in Virgil’s eyes, the blood streaming from Amir’s bruised nose. The television ran through the newscast from earlier, warning Chicago citizens of the arsonist setting fires all over the city.

  “Lock it up!” one of the masked men barked. He tossed the keys to the man holding a gun to Hadi’s head. He forced Hadi to lock the front doors so that there would be no more interruptions then shoved him back to his knees with the barrel of the gun pressed to the back of his head. Hadi’s stomach knotted, palms sweating, and heart thrumming so loudly in his ears it was deafening. And, of course, he felt the heat building in his core.

  “Where’s the other safe, lady?” the leader barked, aiming his pistol at Lindy’s face. She shrank back away from him, tears making big black streaks of wet mascara down her cheeks.

  “We don’t got one,” Lindy sobbed.

  “Don’t lie to me, bitch!” the man continued, pressing the barrel of the gun right to her forehead. She shrieked, shutting her eyes and shaking.

  “She ain’t lyin’!” Moose interjected, earning him a bullet through the shoulder that had all of them screaming. Hadi moved first, his gut reaction to go to his friend, to help him somehow. But the man that held him refused to let go, hauling him back until Hadi’s head connected with the wall. His vision tunneled for a moment before unadulterated fear began to take over. He felt it, the fire that burned inside of him, the fire that he tried to keep in check, boiling to the surface. Everything became reactive at that point. His head connected with the wall so his fist connected with the man’s face - while on fire.

  The flames created a hole in the mask and ignited the rest of it in licks of orange and blue as the flames took over Hadi’s entire person. Suddenly all of the guns were pointed at him but not a single one fired. Instead, they all melted, burning the robbers’ hands. They howled in pain or writhed on the floor as the heat spread from a burning sensation to actual flame. Virgil jumped in at that point, slamming two of them down onto the floor just with his shoulder. They collapsed in a boneless heap. The two still writhing inside of Hadi’s fire trap howled, creating such a ruckus that Hadi snarled. He wrapped them all up in a tornado of flame that sent them crashing through the front door in an explosion of wood and ash right onto the street. Only one of them moved, running in a lurch while screaming about the man on fire.

  Hadi got a good look at himself in the reflection of the bar and stopped short. His eyes burned like coals, hair a whiplash of flames and skin that appeared like cooling lava. In a matter of seconds he shut his power down, feeling the cool blast of the coming spring whip back through the busted door as he sagged and stumbled. No one moved. The entire bar now smelled vaguely of smoke and ashes or urine. The walls around the broken door had black streaks of soot and tiny bubbles in the wood from the high temperatures that struck them. Hadi felt his heart sink. Moose leaned heavily against the liquor shelves with one hand over his shoulder. Blood seeped out between his fingers as he stared wide-eyed at Hadi; at a pyro freak that just lost his shit in front of everyone.

  Hadi stared back at them, feeling the bile rise in his throat and his stomach twist into nauseating knots. He knew he should probably bolt before the cops came or those Men in Black freaks so hell-bent on digging through his life’s story just to be pricks. Instead, he stood there with his mouth gaping, slowly backing away towards the door like a frightened dog.

  “God, Hadi,” Lindy breathed out, tears still streaming down her face. She moved from behind the bar so suddenly that Hadi was completely caught off guard when her arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. “Thank you.”

  Hadi froze. He couldn’t even wrap his arms around Lindy to return the gesture; shock prevented his limbs from moving. She sobbed into his shoulder, repeating ‘thank you, thank you’ over and over again.

  “Wow, man… Think we might need to change your name to Hellfire…”Moose finally breathed out. Hadi looked up at him. Amir stood beside him with a rag pressed to the giant man’s shoulder now and a couple napkins stuffed into his own nose. His little brother just smiled proudly at him. Virgil smirked, shaking his head knowingly.

  “No one says nothin’, hear?” Lindy said suddenly, half turning while still half holding to Hadi’s shoulder. “Nothin’ happened.”

  “Lindy, honey, he blew the door off it’s hinges.

  There’s not much that’ll hide that,” Virgil said. “And you just crushed two of ‘em with your pinky!” Lindy hollered back. “I swear by Jesus and my slutty stilettos I will beat y’all stupid if you breathe a word! Make. It. Up!”

  The men all blinked at her, more terrified of her threat than of Hadi, when they heard a groan from the floor.

  “Did I faint?” Greg mumbled, rubbing the goose egg on his head. It broke the tension, allowing everyone to move a little more freely to chairs or to help Greg as the lights of the police cars began to flash in blue and red outside the blown door.

  06

  James jogged through the Chicago police department towards the holding cells with Genevieve trotting along behind him in a bright pink vest that made her floppy ears droop. Four A.E.C. agents spoke with the officers, Angelo ‘Duck’ Gustavo among them, with his Ray-Bans on despite the late hour and incredible lack of sunlight. James had not expected to see them, shot them a warning look to keep their traps shut and continued on behind the officer that brought him in. Duck glared, but, blessedly, kept his mouth shut; for now.

  “We don’t normally listen to federal folks,” the officer explained. He was one of the few that graced the bar regularly to collect Greg; James could not recall his name. “We’ve got our own branch here in Chicago that work well with us so the real feds tend to put us out a bit. But they were stupid insistent that we bring Haze down. I don’t know what for; poor guy nearly wet himself with what happened at that bar tonight.”

  “What happened? He.. He didn’t tell me anything, just said he needed bail,” James said. Which was true. And, the officer was not wrong. Hadi sounded like he might vomit over the phone, voice shaking and weak.

  “Yeah, I don’t like that either. That asshole in the Ray-Bans said the kid
wasn’t allowed to go unless someone paid his bail which puts him on the watch list - ours and theirs. It’s stupid. You go to the bar, don’t you? I’ve seen you.”

  “Yeah… yeah, I owe Hadi a favor,” James lied.

  He, honestly, didn’t know why Hadi thought to call James for bail but considering the mess downtown at the Hilton and the rumors he was hearing from the bar, he was glad of it. “So, what happened?”

  “Bar got robbed. They shot Moose and messed up Hadi’s kid brother pretty bad. Feds made us arrest Virgil too. His parole officer already came to get him. She yelled at them something fierce though for bringing him in.”

  “The bar got robbed?”

  “Yeah. Assholes tried to set the place on fire too. Guess Virgil shoved them all through the front door. They pulled him in on aggravated assault, of all things. Poor staff probably wouldn’t be alive if he hadn’t been so aggravated. Feds won’t tell me what the charges are on Hadi. Poor kid’s scared shitless. I gave him some coffee but I think that made it worse. He’s over here.”

  The holding cells were like anything James might expect: dull, gray, small, and smelly. While everyone else at the bar had been taken to the hospital, the two Evolved had been arrested on A.E.C. orders. James shook his head, glancing back over in the direction he knew Duck and his flock of worshipers to be. Way to keep it on the down low, guys, he thought. If that guy messed up his stake-out, he was going to turn that thick-browed idiot into a pretzel.

  Hadi looked awful. He sagged on the metal bench bolted to the wall, hands still in cuffs. In fact, he looked green if James had to put a color to him. He learned why, too, as the poor bartender suddenly sagged forward and fell off the bench.

  “Haze!” James called. Both he and the officer - who still had no name in James’s mind - rushed to the cell, unlocking the barred door. Gen barked, whining and pawing at the door like when she knew someone to be in distress. He hadn’t even had time to take her home before Hadi called, following along with her little vest sliding off her back. “Haze? Hey? Hadi?”

  His pulse was weak, and he felt clammy to the touch. James gave him a good look over, finding crusted blood on the back of his neck.

  “Did he get checked out by medical before being brought in?” James demanded. The officer shook his head. Gen licked a scar on Hadi’s right palm.

  “No, they wouldn’t let it happen, they just dragged him and Virgil in here.”

  James let his fingers run through Hadi’s hair until finding what he sought: a gash on the back of his head with a large enough bump to give him all the information he needed.

  “He’s got a head wound, probably a concussion. Hadi? Haze? Hey, look at me, come on, kiddo - call the ambulance, I don’t give a flying fuck what those assholes in suits say.”

  The officer nodded. James stayed with Hadi all the way to the hospital, planting himself beside the bed, Genevieve at his feet. It was not a bad concussion, but still required a hospital stay and some stitches to close the head wound. James made three calls to headquarters and two to Valerie to get all the details and figure out what moron sent Angelo Gustavo to handle the incident at the bar. There were too many details missing. It was Hadi’s night off, thus, it was sort of James’s night off. He’d gone to Valerie’s for dinner then out to catch a movie when he’d received Hadi’s call plus five messages from headquarters about the fire at the Hilton. It was a giant cluster.

  “James?”

  Kendall looked up to find Amir standing in the door with a bandage on his now-broken nose. Both eyes were bruised as a result and he had a butterfly bandage on his cheek. James was not as familiar with Hadi’s brother as he was with Hadi, having only talked to the kid twice at best. They looked alike, close in age and height.

  “Hey, Amir - you ok?” James asked, rising to his feet with a twist of his stiff shoulders. Geneveive shifted but did not rise, content to stay where she was. Amir nodded, glancing at his brother with worry.

  “What happened?” he asked. “The cops, they took him like he did something wrong but he was fine when -”

  “He’s ok,” James cut in. “Minor head wound and a concussion. Did the guys robbing you hit him or something?”

  Amir shook his head. “They shoved him against the wall. Why is this happening, James? Hadi didn’t do nothing to nobody. They almost killed him!”

  “I don’t know, Amir,” James sighed, sitting back down. He reached down to pet Gen, letting his stress wash away with her presence. “I want to help him, Amir, but you gotta be straight with me, ok?”

  Amir nodded. James gestured for him to shut the sliding door and take a seat. When things were quiet, James continued.

  “Amir, is your brother Evolved?”

  The look of surprise on Amir’s face would have been confirmation enough, but the eventual reluctant nod solidified it.

  “What are his powers?”

  Amir hesitated, glancing at Hadi as if debating between helping his brother and keeping his secret. “Fire. He didn’t do anything wrong. They’ve been harassing him since I got here.”

  “How many guys robbed you, Amir?” James asked. He read the report. Valerie sent it to him shortly after collecting Virgil. She was livid. The arrest put Virgil’s probation at risk and took a key witness away from one of their suspects; a suspect that was now in a hospital bed with a nasty concussion.

  “Five,” Amir answered without looking up. The report had only two of them arrested, all taken to the hospital for burns or broken bones.

  “Amir, they only arrested two of them.”

  “So? The others ran or something,” Amir argued. His voice quavered and cracked a little. James took in a calming breath.

  “Amir, I can’t help him if you’re not honest with me.”

  “One of them ran,” Amir finally relented, looking at his brother. He didn’t say anything else. No bodies had been recovered and there would not have been enough time to ‘hide’ evidence. All the police found were splintered pieces of wood, some of the pieces burnt, and very frightened victims. If only one of them ran…

  “Good lord,” James sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose between both hands.

  “James?” Hadi croaked, making James’s head snap up. Hadi stirred, trying to look around at the small room with little success.

  “Hey,” James said, rising to his feet again. The confusion on Hadi’s face suddenly turned to panic, making him groan and roll to a near sitting. “Hey, hey, you’re fine. It’s ok. You’re in a hospital. You’ve got a concussion.”

  “Am—” Hadi tried, breathing hard with a wild look in his eyes.

  “He’s fine. Everyone’s ok. Amir’s right here.

  Relax. Ok? You’re fine. I even brought Gen to see you.”

  James gave a short whistle and the dog hopped up onto the bed. Hadi grinned, relaxing instantly beneath her weight. She was as much a regular to the bar as James or Greg, or the guy that ordered the fish sandwiches on Friday nights. Everyone loved her, Hadi included. He put his hand on her head, smiling more when she licked his palm, shutting his eyes again. James glanced over at Amir and shook his head.

  “Amir.”

  The new voice drew James’ attention to the glass door. An older man with similar features to Amir and Hadi stood with his hand holding the door open.

  “Saleh,” Amir said, moving to the older man; their cousin. Hadi’s dossier was surprisingly detailed, all things considered. The elder man owened a laundromat, was newly married, and had an infant daughter. He also took Amir into a tight embrace while glaring at James. Overly protective too, it would seem.

  They spoke in Arabic under the assumption that James was just another ignorant white man. He let them think that, sitting slowly with a heavy sigh. Saleh urged Amir to go back home, or move in with him, but not to get involved with the mess Hadi had made for himself. Amir argued against it, refusing to abandon his brother ‘the way everyone else had’. Part of James was glad for Amir’s unwavering support, part of him wanted to tel
l Amir to run for the hills like his cousin. This was only going to get worse before it got better; so much worse.

  ~

  Zephyr glared at the group of A.E.C. agents clustered together in the searing white conference room on the third floor of Chicago headquarters. They were all, every single one of them, complete idiots.

  “One hotel fire,” she said slowly, walking among them with piercing eyes. “And a robbery where things almost went up in a wild conflagration of fuck ups! Are any of you capable of actually doing your job?!”

  “Ma’am, if I may-”

  “Shut up, Angelo!” Zephyr barked, using the man’s actual name and glaring with unadulterated fury. He wore his stupid sunglasses like he always did, hiding behind them as he dropped his chin to his chest in castigation. “If, if that bartender is at all involved your complete idiocy may have wiped it completely from his memory. Arrest does not preclude one from medical attention, you dimwit!! I ought to have Ronin drop you into a shadow for the next month!”

  To his credit, Duck swallowed hard and looked down at his feet.

  “Sparrow!” Zephyr continued. Valerie stepped forward. “Falcon!”

  James did the same, Genevieve trotting along beside him with a straight back and perky ears. She'd managed to find a way to remove her vest, sitting proudly with just her glossy brown coat and pink collar.

  “You two seem to be the only competent agents in the Chicago field office,” Zephyr continued. “I’m placing you both on point. I want to know everything about the bartender, Falcon, down to how often he shits. If we’re wasting efforts on him, I need to know now so we can redirect our attention elsewhere. Are we even certain he’s Evolved?”