Blaze of Glory

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Blaze of Glory Page 8

by Sheryl Nantus


  “I’m sorry, I forgot. Shut her down, May.” The Guardian got to his feet. “She’s panicking.”

  A burst of voices shot into my mind’s eye, yelling and screaming and whispering and mumbling and crying and…

  The sidewalk was cool under my cheek, solid and unforgiving as I lay there gasping for air.

  “Okay, May—give me a minute.” Hunter materialized in front of me, lifting my head to cradle it in his lap. “Damned woman. She never listens.”

  My mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out.

  “Give it a minute.” He glanced towards the park bench. “It’s a bit overwhelming when Mayday gets going.”

  I stared at the metal band on his wrist as he brushed some hair from my face. He frowned and followed where my eyes led.

  “Oh. Damn.” He pulled down the sleeve of his coat. “No, I’m not going to kill you.”

  “Are you scaring her, Hunter?” May’s voice carried to where we were laying.

  “Probably.” A weak smile showed on his boyish face. “Sorry, Surf. Didn’t mean to meet you like this.”

  I regained control of my voice, my balance returning soon after. According to my watch it had only been a minute since the initial attack, but it felt like hours to me. In the back of my mind I could hear Mike yelling at me for being such an idiot.

  “Just breathe.” Hunter looked up, probably at the tower. “Takes everyone a different amount of time to recover from May’s mind blast.” He sighed. “Guess this is a pretty awkward way to answer your call, hmm?”

  I must have smiled back because he continued. “Name’s Hunter Dillon. And yes, I’m May’s Guardian.” His light blue eyes held a trace of tears. “And before you ask—I couldn’t send her into that. I saw what was happening to you and the others and I couldn’t.” The words dropped to a whisper. “I couldn’t do that to her. So we cut and ran.”

  “Ran,” I whispered.

  “Yeah. Just don’t kill me when you recover, please?” His tone was light, but I knew he was serious. If he was a Guardian, he knew what I could do.

  I eased the charge away, releasing it back into the air, the ground, anywhere it wanted to go. Last thing I needed right now was to have an accident—that hadn’t happened in over a year, and Mike had never passed up the chance to point out the electrical scars along the living-room wall.

  “Good. Now I’m going to help you sit up. Please don’t throw up on me.” Hunter chuckled, a soft trill. “I don’t have any other clothes than what I’ve got on.”

  He pushed me upwards. Putting one gloved hand to my right temple, I tried to massage away the throbbing with little success. May tossed out the last hunk of bread and patted the bench beside her.

  “Come over here, dear. Time to talk.”

  Hunter helped me to my feet, and I limped over. May smiled. The Guardian sat beside me, putting me in the middle.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” she said in a sing-song voice I recognized from the noise in my mind. “Didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

  “No problem.” A few deep breaths helped to clear the fuzz from my head. “So, let’s take this from the top. Obviously, you know who I am. But I’m at a bit of a loss.”

  “Maybelline Andrews.” Her hand reached out from under the thick sweater, pale and small, to shake mine. “This is my Guardian, Hunter Dillon.”

  My attention turned to the man. “We’ve met.”

  He nodded. “I've heard of you. Cool skills. Mayday here has the ability to dump static into people’s minds. Not enough to put her on the main list, but enough to keep her around for the tag-team matches.”

  My eyes narrowed as I ran through the mental list of supers. “I think I remember you… You’ll have to forgive me, my mind’s still pretty fuzzy.”

  “That’s my fault.” She sounded almost proud of the fact.

  “Yes, well…to make a long story short, we’re here to help.” Hunter’s hand landed on my knee, sparking a rush of heat that startled me. “And we’ve got to talk about the Agency.”

  “Right.” I looked at my watch, trying to ignore the inferno in my leg. “Let’s give it another hour in case someone else shows up and we’ll go back to my place.”

  “That sounds good.” May pointed up at the tower. “Why don’t you tell me all about this thing while we wait? It’s quite the lovely building, it is.”

  For the next hour we sat there and I found out how the two of them had traveled on the bus from Minneapolis, Hunter insisting they come here after receiving my message. I listened as May detailed her interesting riding companions and the few she had to smite because they were either impolite or possibly dangerous to them. She twirled a snow-white curly lock of hair around her index finger as she continued to talk about the weather and the change in temperature and how Canada wasn’t as cold as she thought it was going to be and could we stop for coffee on the way back because she really would appreciate that. Finally Hunter put his hand on her arm. “That’s enough, May.” He smiled at me. “It’s been over an hour. Think it’s time to go?”

  “For tonight,” I admitted, feeling a bit downcast despite our meeting. Getting to my feet, I let out a sigh. “I’ll come back tomorrow night.”

  “Give them a chance.” May stood up, brushing crumbs from her dark blue slacks. “Besides, we’re here.”

  “Yes, yes you are.” Stifling a yawn, I gestured towards the street. “We can catch a bus back home.”

  May oohed and aahed about the streetcar ride, settling into the hard plastic seat with all the enthusiasm of a child on her first outing into the big city. Hunter stood beside her, keeping guard. His eyes flashed around the inside of the carriage scanning everyone and everything as if he expected another Guardian to leap out at any second and start blowing our heads off. Or to chastise him for still being alive. Or something between the two extremes. As it was I wasn’t comfortable with his presence. The slim shiny wristband flashed every now and then in the fluorescent lights before he would hide it again.

  We hopped off the streetcar, May impressed again with the evening crowds of clubbers rushing to either get to another club or to an open restaurant. I led them into the alley that ran behind the bookstore, embarrassed by the soggy cardboard pizza boxes stacked in the narrow lane and the smell of urine.

  The back door screamed in squeaking agony as I opened it, sending an arc of pain through my ears.

  “A bookstore. Wonderful!” May walked in behind me, chirping her words. “I hope I can read some of them.”

  “Why, of course.” David appeared out of an aisle, beaming as he saw us. Bending down, he grabbed May’s hand. Bringing it up, he kissed the back of the pale, delicate skin lightly. “David Tierney, at your service.”

  “Oh, my.” May blushed as Hunter rolled his eyes and I stifled a laugh. “Jo didn’t say that you were so polite.”

  David grinned. “Well, if you’re looking for something to read, let me take you on a tour of the shop.” Offering his arm to the older woman, he looked back at the two of us. “We’ll be upstairs in a second. Jessie’s finished hooking up the surveillance cameras and managed to wrangle a few more jammers for personal use.” He nodded to May. “I'll give you one as soon as we get upstairs. Mr. Limox already has his.”

  “Jammers?” Hunter asked as he walked behind me up the stairs.

  “For the GPS locaters in the plug.” I tapped the back of my neck. “We’ve got a main one here but we need smaller, personal ones to travel outside the area.”

  “Ah.” He tapped his temple with a finger. “Darned smart. Can I see one of them?”

  “Sure. Ask Jessie for one. Just don’t take it apart. I don’t know how many we’ll need to have on hand.” We reached the top of the stairs. “So, here it is.”

  “Wow.” Putting his hands on his hips, he looked around the loft. I had to admit I was pretty impressed myself, given the changes that had been wrought while I had been out.

  The single computer desk had morphed into a huge bank of monito
rs and computer screens which displayed a series of shots from outside the bookstore—the aforementioned surveillance cameras. Another set ran a local news channel, another an international television station, and three computer screens showed an impressive number of chat screens and programs.

  The living area had been spruced up with a second couch, albeit definitely used and abused, along with a few armchairs and a long coffee table that had deep scratches and gouges in the redwood.

  The single bed was now surrounded by sleeping bags and loose pillows, making me wince with the mental image of sleeping anywhere near Limox. But the kitchen had me smiling with the addition of a microwave oven, a coffee maker and from the empty grocery bags on the floor, a full pantry and cupboard.

  “Nice.” Hunter let out a low whistle as he hung up his jacket on the coat rack not too far from the top of the stairs. I followed suit, leaving my jammer in the pocket.

  “Yeah.” I was in shock seeing the drab and dreary apartment transformed into something that looked like a professional base of operations.

  Jessie appeared from behind the row of monitors, waving a screwdriver. “Hey.” His eyes narrowed as he saw Hunter. “Who’s he?”

  “Hunter Dillon.” I paused. “A Guardian.”

  Jessie’s hand hovered in the air where he had started to extend it in a handshake. “Aren’t they the bad guys?”

  I glanced at Hunter, noting the sheepish look on his face as he waited for me to answer. “Not as bad as the aliens.”

  “Ah.” Jessie dropped his hand, rubbing it on his faded jeans. “Okay then.” He disappeared behind the monitors. “Be finished soon enough, then we’re getting some pizza.”

  “Where’s Limox?” I spun, not seeing the paunchy, overweight man.

  “Downstairs.” The muffled words came through the gaps on the rack.

  As if on cue Hunter’s head snapped around. “Oh Lord…” He sprinted towards the stairs, his white dress shirt threatening to pull free of his jeans with the sudden movement. I followed, nearly tripping down the steps.

  Hunter dashed between the rows of books, ducking in and out of sight as I tried to catch him. “May!” he roared at the top of his lungs, startling me.

  “He’s not very nice.” The gentle voice came from the next aisle over.

  I stumbled into the narrow space to see Limox, a bemused look on his face as he drooled onto the hardwood floor, eyes unfocused and wide. David was leaning against the Current Events shelf with May standing beside him, her lips pressed tightly together.

  “He needs to learn some manners,” she announced. She turned to David. “Can I please have a cup of tea?”

  “Certainly.” He offered his arm again with an uneasy smile. “Shall we go upstairs and relax there?”

  “That would be nice.” May followed, carefully stepping over the confused man. David glared at me before leading her away.

  Hunter dropped down beside Limox. “Sorry, man. You must have pushed her buttons.”

  “You think?” I knelt, noting Limox’s glazed expression. “So what the hell is wrong with her?”

  “I’m willing to bet that he”—Hunter pointed at the super—“made a rude comment about her. Not a good idea.”

  “I guessed that.” Sliding down to sit on the floor beside the twitching man, I wiped my forehead with one hand. “So, do I have to worry about her going off like this all the time?”

  “No. Only if you act like an ass.” Slapping Limox on the shoulder, Hunter stood back up. “She’s a bit old-fashioned when it comes to how men should treat women. Ignore that at your own peril.” He reached down towards me. “And we still have to talk.”

  I glared at Limox. He blinked with a mixture of fear and loathing in his eyes.

  “He’ll be fine. She zapped him with less than she gave you.” The blond man grinned. “Think of it as a lesson in civility.”

  Getting to my feet with Hunter’s help, I smiled at the man still lying on the floor. “Don’t mess with her, Meltdown. She’ll fry your brain next time.”

  I followed Hunter upstairs where May was settling down at the small kitchen table with David, excitedly talking about her obsession with Nora Roberts books and asking if he could track down the latest release.

  Hunter waved me over to the couch, grabbing a cup of coffee on the way. “Let’s chat.”

  “Yeah.” I caught David’s eye, getting a nod of support before he returned his attention to the chattering super. Sinking into the dark purple cushions, I rubbed my eyes with the palms of both hands, trying to pull it together.

  Hunter leaned forward, entwining his fingers and resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re not happy to see me.”

  “Understatement.” I stared at him. “If it weren’t for the fact that May seems sort of attached to you, I’d have clocked you and dumped your body somewhere.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t think so. I know you, Surf.”

  “Don’t call me that.” My teeth ground together. “My name is Jo.”

  He held up his hands. “Got it. Okay.” Leaning forward again, he lowered his voice. “Look, I told you why I couldn’t send May into battle. Which makes me a rogue, which makes me on your side.” Hunter glanced towards the table where May was deep in an animated conversation with David and now Jessie, her hands flying in the air as she described something. “You know she wouldn’t have lasted a minute in there.”

  “I can’t believe they would have sent her in.” I scratched the tip of my nose. “I mean, she’s not exactly a fighter, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

  “She’s not. The Agency saw her as more of a tag-team member, usually with one of the heavy brawlers. She’d nail the big guy with her mental scrambling and then the flashy super would take ’em out.” Hunter looked towards the table. “We got the call and I just couldn’t send her to certain death. Didn’t even tell her, to be honest—I told her to get dressed and we headed for the bus station.” His hands rubbed together as if they were cold. “Went to a casino first, saw the fight there on the big screens. The bookies were actually taking bets on it, if you can believe it, at least until they figured out this wasn’t just some stupid publicity stunt. She was upset but she’s not stupid—she knows this level of fighting is far, far above what she can do and contribute to.” Hunter paused. “I saw you and Metal Mike. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah.” The word was thick in my throat. Clearing it with a cough, I harrumphed my way back. “So now that you’re here, what can you help us with?”

  “Saving your life.” He tapped the back of his head. “You may be able to block the plug right now, but that’s not going to last.”

  “We’re working on it.” My attention darted to Jessie, who was sitting opposite May, his eyes bright and enchanted by the elderly lady.

  “Whatever you’re doing, it won’t be enough.” Hunter bit down on his lower lip. “I’ll be honest with you. There’s a failsafe that the Agency has to deal with something like this.”

  “Like this?”

  A sheepish smile touched his lips. “Well, sort of. In case of some sort of major super rebellion there’s an automated process that starts up—it’s locked into the system. A special detonation code that’ll activate all the plugs at once no matter where you are or what sort of tech you’re playing with.” He looked towards the command center, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “He may be a damned good tech, but you know he can’t match what the Agency has. We’ve been at this for years; he just found out in the last day or so that you were a fake. You really think he and his hacker friends can beat out the resources the Agency has at their command?”

  I felt a surge of nausea, the burning in the back of my throat threatening to overwhelm me.

  “You’ve probably got…” he studied his watch, “…just under fifteen hours to get into the Agency’s network and disable that program, otherwise it’s not going to make a difference who you are or where you are. Or what little toys your technical buddy comes up with.”


  “Murderer.” The word was coarse and rough. Hunter’s gaze dropped to the ground and he slowly nodded.

  “You’re right. But look at it from our point of view. We had to have some sort of back-up plan. And this is what they decided on. If it’s worth anything, I didn’t get a vote on it. Neither did Mike.” He let out a low whisper as he exhaled, as if slowly releasing the air from a balloon. “And that’s not the worst of it.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A bubble of nausea popped, forcing an angry burp up my throat. “Seriously.”

  He took a deep breath and continued. “Look, you ever wonder how we knew where you supers were? How we found you every time just after you manifested your powers? How we were there in the right place at the right time?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “There’s a pre-cog at the Agency, has been for years. She’s the one who sees supers being created, and we send out a team to pick them up before they can run.” His fingers rubbed against each other, twisting and intertwining and opening up again. “She actually saw this attack coming.”

  I blinked.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Then I leapt at the man, grabbing him by his white pristine shirt collar and tossing him to the floor.

  Chapter Nine

  “What?” I roared into his face, straddling his hips and pinning him to the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Mayday getting to her feet, her mouth open in astonishment.

  “No, don’t.” Hunter looked to the side, waving her off. “Don’t interfere.” He stared at my hands, now tight on his shirt, the angry sparks starting to leap from bare finger to bare finger. “Look, Jenny didn’t see all of this. She saw some of it, a fragment, but she thought it was years down the road. Which is why we had to keep recruiting more supers, get them ready.”

  My grip didn’t lessen.

  “Jo, you have to listen to me—we didn’t know this was going to happen now. We thought it would be years, maybe decades. We knew they were coming and that they’d chew up the military, all of those people. Jenny helped us build an army of supers to save the world.” He wheezed, his eyes growing wide as the electric static began to build in my hands. The chest hairs visible through his unbuttoned shirt started to stand on end. “But she might be able to see how this ends. Jenny could see how to beat them.” The panic in his eyes was growing. “I can get you in there. I can help…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I have to help save May.”

 

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