The Pantheon Saga | Book 4 | Gods of Wrath

by Ekeke, C. C.

  Especially if I lose and can’t be Lady Liberty? Betty pushed off the wall defiantly. That couldn’t happen.

  “What did Sentinel and Crane want?”

  Betty nearly jumped out of her kaftan. Justice Jones appeared behind her, hulking and tatted up. Betty stared dumbly, her sluggish brain catching up. “Another comeback offer. Said I’d consider it.”

  She then noticed Jones’s dark expression. “Something happened?”

  Justice Jones sighed. “Prison break at Rockland Penitentiary.”

  Alarm shivered through Betty. Rockland held many dangerous supervillains. One of the highest security supermax prisons in the world.

  All other worries about challengers to her powers became background noise. “Breakout?” Betty inquired, striding with authority for the elevator.

  “Break-in,” Jones corrected, trailing her. “Someone new. Forty prisoners escaped before the facility could contain the breach.”

  Entering the elevator, Betty pulled an encrypted phone from her pocket to text Hugo. “Tell me what we’re up against.”

  Chapter 1

  A blast of pain proceeded the meaty fist to the jaw.

  All six-foot-four inches of Hugo Malalou tumbled across several rows of vineyards.

  He skidded to a stop on his back, purple and black costume drenched with squished red grapes. Hugo stared up at the starry night, unsure which stars were already there or his dazed imagination.

  “Ow.” Hugo cradled his jaw, thankfully finding all his teeth. “I felt that.”

  A naked, boulder-like giant crouched in the middle of Kohl Wineries’ vineyards, gorging on grapes.

  Hugo had moved in fast to take his foe off-guard—and got backhanded a half-mile across the damn vineyards. So much for sneak attacks.

  Swift thundering footfall made Hugo sit up.

  His vision stopped spinning in time for him to watch his attacker mowing down more rows of grapes—charging at him. Despite the darkness, Hugo saw the approaching beast crystal clear. Yay, night vision. Hugo knew of the powerhouse called Monstrosity by reputation. A long-time Lord Borealis henchman before the latter’s redemption and had been jailed at Rockland Supermax.

  Then the massive breakout last week had happened.

  Monstrosity was eight feet of muscles upon muscles beneath a thick, gelatinous hide. Bony protrusions stuck out of his shit-brown skin. And a hideous, jowly face with beady black eyes oozing stupidity. A true monstrosity and one of few who rivaled Titan in strength.

  Monstrosity closed in fast, loamy earth shaking beneath his feet. His open mouth displayed jagged yellow teeth and a snakelike tongue. His deafening roar echoed throughout the night.

  Hugo stifled a shiver. “Yeah, fuck you, too,” he remarked in his cavernous superhero voice.

  “Aegis,” Lady Liberty chided in his hooded earpiece, “get Monstrosity away—”

  “—from populated areas,” he grumbled. “Less quips. More fists.” Still an armchair quarterback after seven months. Electricity surged through his muscles as Monstrosity cut the distance between them. Hugo grinned in anticipation and exploded forward. Monstrosity’s near-impenetrable hide was like brick reinforced by layers of iron. Hugo ignored the jarring impact, his own body a super-strong missile ramming the beast.

  The air rushed out of Monstrosity in a whooping whoosh. Hugo wrapped both arms around his opponent’s protruding belly, rocketing them up over the wineries. Cool air touched the exposed lower half of his face. Hugo felt like he could blast into the skies—actual flight. He savored that thrill, knowing it wouldn’t last.

  Monstrosity, snorting like a hippopotamus, grabbed Hugo with bear paw-sized hands to yank him off.

  Hugo twisted defensively, killing his leap’s momentum. Hundreds of miles above, the pair went spinning toward the ground. Bright veins of late-night traffic illuminated the Pacific Coast Highway parallel to the dark, frothy ocean. Hugo tasted fear, but not for himself. The fear came from possible collateral damage, victims, exposure. The smell of sand and brine filled his nose. Perfect.

  Hugo twisted his hips and dropkicked Monstrosity in the stomach toward the beach. Sand sprayed everywhere, tremors rippling down the coast north of Heart Castle.

  A chorus of angry trumpets erupted nearby—awoken elephant seals. Hugo had dropped them far enough from the PCH to avoid notice. He landed in a superhero crouch, naturally.

  Monstrosity rose to his full height, dwarfing Hugo. The Samoan gulped. The bulky slug-shaped shadows of several elephant seals wisely scooted toward the water.

  Matching strength with Monstrosity would be stupid. And a prolonged fight would draw too much attention.

  Hugo knew what Lady Liberty would say. “The smarter you fight, the faster they fall.”

  Monstrosity shook his massive head and focused on Hugo with murderous eyes. He opened his mouth for another roar.

  Hit the soft points. Hugo zoomed in, elbowing Monstrosity’s throat.

  The massive beast staggered back, clutching his throat, eyes bulging.

  Racing around Monstrosity, Hugo leaped onto the giant’s back and viciously slammed his knuckles into either ear. Monstrosity made a choked grunt, stumbling about.

  Hugo somersaulted off the behemoth and drove both feet into the nape of his neck with a loud crack. The blow snapped Monstrosity’s head back while shoving him forward. His beefy body went limp, arms flailing.

  Half a second later, Hugo stood before a toppling Monstrosity.

  He smirked and swung, uppercutting Monstrosity in the jaw. The beast did two three-sixty backflips, his belly flop blasting sand in all directions.

  Hugo wrinkled his nose and spat out sand grains. He advanced and knelt beside Monstrosity, scanning to confirm he was unconscious. Hugo sighed in relief. He’d expected a harder fight.

  “Another one bites the dust.” Hugo cringed. That quip sucked. Monstrosity’s blow must’ve rung his bell.

  “Not your best, Aegis.”

  Hugo looked up, already sensing her before the fight ended. “Thanks for rubbing that in.”

  Lady Liberty hovered several feet above, a divine yet uncompromising goddess. The veteran hero’s famous red costume revealed copious amounts of leg, her gold boots and the silver diadem atop her head glinting in the dark.

  She tossed something to Hugo. “Here.”

  He caught two pairs of power restraints. “Thanks!” Hugo then cuffed Monstrosity’s arms and tree trunk-sized legs, which would nullify his immense strength. The teen savored a satisfied grin. All by myself.

  The past four months, Lady Liberty had supervised all his big field missions and gradually let Hugo take more of a lead. This last week, Lady Liberty had let Hugo deal with bad guys himself. To call that a huge confidence booster was an understatement. Maybe she’s ready to let me go solo, Hugo wondered. But he contained his enthusiasm, not wanting to seem impatient. Still, as Hugo studied Lady Liberty, pride burned in her eyes like twin suns.

  The vroom of several vehicles tearing up the PCH from the south drew Hugo’s attention.

  Fury seized him. “Perfect timing,” he snarled.

  Lady Liberty frowned and followed his gaze. “OSA?”

  Hugo nodded. This was an annoying pattern. “We take out the trash, while the OSA takes credit.”

  Lady Liberty nodded toward inland. “Meet me at the store.”

  Hugo watched her blast into the skies. Power coursed through him before he dashed away from the coastline’s crashing waves and the PCH’s lanes of headlights.

  The only evidence was trumpeting seals and an unconscious Monstrosity on the beach in cuffs.

  Later, Hugo emerged from the restroom in the Lady Liberty’s HQ beneath her costume shop. He’d showered thoroughly to clean off the grape juice and sand, switching into a tank top and boardshorts. Hugo ran fingers through spiky black hair, grown out from the buzzcut he’d sported earlier this year. Betty Ortiz stood before a massive screen still in Lady Liberty costume minus the crown, hair up in a ponytail.
Hugo sensed the veteran’s palpable worry from her pensive stance.

  After glimpsing the viewscreen, he knew why. Mugshots of the forty-nine escapees from Rockland Penitentiary at the Kern/SLO County border filled the screen. Knowing the damage these superpowered, bloodthirsty felons could do in San Miguel seized Hugo with terror.

  Hugo recognized some like Armordillo and Kolcutta. Many weren’t familiar.

  Countless heroes, including The Elite, had helped recapture these criminals. He and Lady Liberty had X- marked the nine inmates they’d grabbed, including Monstrosity.

  “Four escapees in three days,” Hugo remarked, standing beside Ms. Ortiz. “And OSA’s keeping this from the public?” He felt the decision was stupid.

  Ms. Ortiz made a sour face. “How would the public like knowing there’s a supermax prison outside San Miguel?” She turned back to the viewscreen.

  Hugo shrugged, still unconvinced. “Could still happen.”

  Lady Liberty smiled tartly. “Thankfully, we’re catching them in time.”

  “And The Elite,” Hugo added, rolling his eyes. “And Tomorrow Man.” The Elite were more of a six-person wrecking crew than a superhero team. Hugo wasn’t a fan. Too destructive. But he loathed Tomorrow Man. That try-hard famewhore had paparazzi on speed dial anytime he helped a granny cross the street. If not for the OSA’s mandate, he’d have told everyone which villains he’d recaptured.

  If Hugo were public like Lady Liberty, he’d set better examples than this new breed of heroes. But the teen preferred anonymity. Less stress, less drama.

  There was an absence which raised Hugo’s brow. “Surprised The Vanguard hasn’t been all over this.”

  Lady Liberty wrinkled her nose. “They’re dealing with global threats,” she explained. “And the ongoing apology tour. And hunting the man behind the prison break.” She reached out and swiped the screen. The escaped and recaptured villain mugshots vanished, replaced by just one.

  Hugo knew this villain immediately, feeling deep dislike and a little fear. “Rainmaker.”

  Just the name alone chilled the air. The images on the viewscreen showed the silhouette of a tall, athletic man with an afro. Except, his eyes burned icy blue, matching the angular bars decorating his upper body, plus the metallic pants and boots. He looked angry, pyroplasmic beams shooting from his fingers. Except for his glowing eyes and teeth, no facial features were visible. Rainmaker had gotten on several radars two months ago with a terrorist attack in Dallas. He’d gone dark until last week’s prison break. By his solar-based power, Hugo knew this man was no pushover.

  Still, Hugo had questions. “Why call himself Rainmaker? Dude doesn’t control the weather.”

  Ms. Ortiz smirked at him. “Silly name aside, he’s dangerous. The prison break was his opening salvo.”

  Hugo arched a curious eyebrow. “How?”

  Ms. Ortiz swiped the screen again, revealing six of the forty-nine inmates unaccounted for. “Rainmaker breaks into Rockland. Who does he grab?”

  Hugo inched closer to the screen. Not that he needed a better look with 140/20 vision. Old habits... “Armordillo. Mastodon. King Jacob. Deathquake…” Hugo had studied many of these names during his training. Most were upper-mid-level threats, formidable fighters and henchmen. The truth slapped Hugo across the jaw. “He’s gathering an army.”

  Ms. Ortiz nodded with pride amid her concern. “Rainmaker is amassing soldiers who are easier to control. Otherwise, he’d have recruited Monstrosity.”

  Hugo agreed. Monstrosity was a volatile rage machine with a toddler’s brain. “What does Rainmaker want?” His Dallas attack provided no manifesto or monologuing. Same with his prison break-in.

  Ms. Ortiz shook her head, seemingly as lost as Hugo. “We’ll know once we catch him.”

  Facing Rainmaker? Goosebumps prickled Hugo’s flesh, his fists clenched in anticipation. He also sensed Ms. Ortiz’s lingering gaze.

  “You’re not going to ask?” she said.

  Hugo scowled. “I was being mature. But if you insist…how’d I do?”

  Ms. Ortiz pulled out the band holding her ponytail, silken brunette sheets spilling down her shoulder. “How you beat Monstrosity is why I’m teaching you to fight smarter.” Her features warmed. “Great job.”

  A smile split Hugo’s face. His cheeks burned for some stupid reason. He’d worked his ass off to improve, so the praise was appreciated. And while he hadn’t reached Titan-class levels of strength yet, Hugo knew that he’d definitely surpassed Lady Liberty.

  “Soon you’ll go solo,” Ms. Ortiz continued. “Then the real pressure begins.”

  Hugo furrowed his brow. She sounded cryptic. “I’m sensing a ‘but…’”

  Ms. Ortiz sighed guiltily. “Let’s say you eventually go public.” She made a wincing face. “Would you consider joining a team? Like The Vanguard?”

  Hugo recoiled, surprised and angry. “Hell no!” He slashed across his throat for emphasis.

  By Ms. Ortiz’s reaction, she’d expected that. Which made the asking strange. “You can learn a lot from other heroes. And you can’t do everything alone.”

  Hugo had considered this months ago when he’d started training under Lady Liberty. His answer hadn’t changed. “I know I won’t be able to Superman the shit out of any obstacle.” Hugo spread his arms. “But I’m learning from you, Justice Jones and Geist in his own asshole-ish way. And see how everyone’s waiting for The Vanguard and The Elite to make one unforgivable mistake.” Another issue popped up. “Having teammates means more people knowing my secret. So, no.”

  Sadness flashed across Ms. Ortiz’s lovely face, so quick Hugo almost thought he’d imagined it. “Just checking."

  Hugo pulled out his cellphone and gaped. Almost eleven at night. He hadn’t started any homework. Between superheroing, dance practice, and finals at the end of sophomore year, Hugo’s nights regularly ended around two in the morning. He stared up at his instructor. “Need anything else?”

  Ms. Ortiz examined a small screen near her larger screen patched into law enforcement scanners. “San Miguel’s quiet tonight.”

  Hugo pocketed his phone. Quiet usually preceded a storm. “If that changes—”

  “I’ll call you, Bogie.”

  Hugo would rather be out patrolling, but his relief was undeniable. Besides studying for a geometry final, the biology project worth a fifth of his grade wasn’t building itself. “Great.” He turned to leave, then remembered something. “Is Zelda still coming to dinner tomorrow? AJ’s grounded again. He needs a friendly…face.” The question died in his throat.

  Ms. Ortiz was leaning against a wall, eyes closed in discomfort.

  Hugo reached her side faster than a heartbeat. “You okay?”

  Ms. Ortiz waved him off, and the Samoan stumbled back. “I’m fine.” She wore a forced smile, but echoes of pain lingered on her face. “Z’s still coming.”

  Hugo wasn’t remotely convinced. That wasn’t like Ms. Ortiz, as herself or Lady Liberty. Is that why I’m taking lead during missions? Is she sick?

  But as she walled up, Hugo knew no answers were coming. “See ya.”

  “Bye.” Her farewell was a curt dismissal.

  Hugo gave her another concerned look. Grabbing his folded-up costume, he sped home.

  Chapter 2

  Panic hit Quinn Bauer in the chest. She had a tough act to follow after the groom’s best man had knocked his speech out of the park.

  Quinn rose from her seat at the wedding party table, her wobbly legs unrelated to the two glasses of champagne she’d guzzled. Or the muggy New England heat.

  Quinn gave her voluminous big curls a nervous fluffing.

  “Hey, everyone!” Her greeting received positive replies.

  On Quinn’s left sat five bridesmaids; two of Annie’s college friends, two work friends, and a childhood friend from San Diego. All wore matching one-shouldered green gowns. One bridesmaid, a mutual friend named Devon Strauss, winked teasingly.

  Quinn’s cheeks warme
d. She stuck her tongue out at the leggy blonde.

  On her right sat BFF Annie Machado, a white, strapless and flowy wedding dress hugging her gorgeous curves lovingly. Annie’s husband, Jonathan Sherwood, looked lean and handsome in his grey tuxedo. His best man and five groomsmen sported identical dark green suits. A cluster of decorated tables spread before Quinn, packed with Johnny’s and Annie’s family and friends. The reporter’s own immediate family occupied two tables.

  The evening reception was at Newport Vineyards, after a tear-jerking wedding in Newport’s Rosecliff Mansion. All eyes were on her. Quinn ignored the butterflies in her stomach, straightening out her lacy maid of honor dress. “I’ve known Annie since college,” Quinn began. “She had a type. Bad-boy players. Moody bikers,” Quinn listed off.

  Knowing laughter rippled through the crowd.

  A glance at Annie revealed her playfully mouthing, “Fuck you.”

  Quinn side-eyed the bride. “Don’t sass me! It’s true.” Everyone roared, bride and groom included.

  Quinn’s confidence rose. “When Annie said she’d met someone not her type, I had reservations.” The amusing responses made her smile. “Everyone did.” The raucous crowd was in the palm of her hand.

  Bring it home. “Then I met Johnny, saw them together.” She grew serious and faced the newlyweds. “I watched two lives become one. They fit in ways even they don’t see yet.”

  A few sniffles sounded. Annie teared up, hands over her heart. Johnny watched Quinn with pure gratitude, an arm around his bride’s shoulders.

  “Bachelorettes!” Quinn beamed, despite a thickness in her throat. “Find someone who treats you like Johnny treats Annie. Bachelors, find someone who loves you as unconditionally as Annie does Johnny.” Quinn raised her glass. “To Jonathan and Gioconda.”

  “To Jonathan and Gioconda,” everyone echoed.

  After speeches from Johnny’s dad and Annie’s parents, the reception began. Guests were laughing and conversing or grooving to trunk-rattling music. Annie and Johnny roved the crowd thanking guests. Then they hit the dance floor, holding each other and kissing frequently.