by Ekeke, C. C.
Greyson cocked his head sideways. “Not yet.” He saw no prisoner, only an obstacle. Greyson focused more, increasing the stone’s gravity.
Marcos’s panic increased with the stone’s heaviness. He struggled to wrench his foot away. “Stop! Stop…it hurts!” Marcos threw his head back, his pleas devolving into wordless screams.
Greyson kept amplifying, until the wet crunches of several bones joined an inhuman shriek. He walked forward, emotionally empty, inspecting his handiwork. The round red crater in Marcos’s left foot was spouting blood.
Greyson knelt, producing another small stone from his pocket. He placed that on Marcos’s other foot and stepped back.
“No more!” Marcos sobbed, shaking his head. Blood and sweat flew in all directions. “No more.”
Got him. Greyson remained pokerfaced, despite his triumph. “Then talk.”
Five minutes later, Greyson exited the room. Karl and Rikki looked baffled by his tranquility. “
Well?” Alonzo asked impatiently.
“The leaders of the Aristides rebels meet in an hour at Suri Bakery in downtown Nueva Segovia after hours, using a poker game to complete their plans.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped. Alonzo clapped his shoulder. “Nice work.”
Rikki was beside herself. “How did you break him?”
Greyson rubbed his hands together. “I’m very convincing.” He looked to Alonzo and gestured at the prison. “Have someone look after Marcos’s foot.”
Two hours of driving through rugged roads and the Vertebreakers reached Nueva Segovia after eleven.
Greyson now crouched in brushes with Alonzo, Saed, and Karl, staring at a row of unlit stores down a small street. A cluster of cars on the road revealed some gathering. The shouts and booming music one street over provided good cover for what happened next.
“We’ve cased this road a dozen times. And Aristides’s leadership has been here all along?” Alonzo whistled. “Smart bastards.”
Saed wrinkled his nose, assault rifle ready. “Who’d be suspicious of a poker night?” He inspected the storefronts through narrowed eyes.
“How do we get in without drawing attention?” Karl said impatiently. The Aussie was kill-happy. “Lots of these store owners live above them.”
Greyson listened as they jabbered over crappy strategies, quietly devising his own scenario.
“I enter first and kill the guards,” he spoke over everyone. “Then you come finish off the leaders without needing too much manpower.”
Karl and Saed stared at him. “That works for me,” Alonzo answered.
Greyson negated his own gravity and soared into the night skies. Soon he was floating above the storefronts. City lights, residences, and derelict buildings sprawled endlessly beyond the row of stores. Behind him was a thick sea of forest. Greyson hovered over Surti Bakery and increased his personal gravity pull to the roof on instinct. He then plummeted.
Greyson smashed through the roof feet-first, landing in a crouch amid screams, debris and bodies stumbling. He looked up, spotting six elderly men and women lurching up from a table.
“Who the hell?” one fat, matronly woman exclaimed in Spanish.
The balding man beside her gaped at the ceiling. “How’d he get in?”
“Who cares?” another woman cried. “Shoot him!” The six leaders of Aristides all whipped out handguns with cat-quick reflexes.
Four guards aimed their assault rifles. A fifth guard stood behind them with glowing eyes. Another super. Greyson studied the opposition, slightly alarmed but contained on the outside. Clearly a fair fight.
He focused on the six elderly leaders taking aim. Each one cried out, dropping guns that were suddenly too heavy.
The assault rifles spat angry rapid-fire rounds, right when Greyson raised a hand. Bullets slowed in front of him, a beady metal cluster congesting the air.
He swatted at the floating bullets with his hand, reversing the gravity. The metal swarm zipped back to their senders, shredding the guards like knifes through butter.
Several screams later, there lay a pile of bullet-riddled bodies. A spike of joy went through Greyson at the inventive use of his abilities.
He whirled on the six leaders trying to flee and swung both hands as if holding a bat. The Nicaraguans went flying into a side wall, their gravitational pull attached to it.
“No wonder supers are internationally banned from joining the military,” Greyson murmured. That rule didn’t apply to private contractors.
Three soldiers burst through the door minutes later, armed to the teeth.
Alonzo observed from the dead guards to the wall of helpless leaders pleading in Spanish. He marveled, “Damn, Blight.”
Greyson liked his field callsign. He gestured at the leaders. “All yours.”
Alonzo nodded at Karl and Saed.
Greyson stepped back for the grinning mercenaries. They aimed their firearms on the frantic Aristides leaders and opened fire.
And Greyson watched without flinching, flashing gunfire illuminating a face as vacant as his heart.
Chapter 4
Hugo wondered what anyone must think seeing his full-body cringe beside some lockers. It wasn’t from the student stampede flooding the hallways for lunch or bad reception on his cellphone. Hugo could pinpoint specific heartbeats in large crowds with his hearing.
His cringing came from Quinn Bauer’s well-deserved tongue-lashing. “Really, Hugo? Really?”
Hugo squeezed his eyes shut. “Sorry.” Quinn had pointed his attention to an article on Herogasm and SLOCO Daily’s news apps. A blurred night picture of a shadowy vigilante hurtling into what looked like Monstrosity right above the PCH.
Dammit! He opened his eyes, cradling the cellphone against his ear. The chattering students nearby became background noise as panic seized him. Then he realized that Tomorrow Man had claimed credit for this. Just like several times for minor car rescues or burglaries Hugo had prevented. He felt both relieved and indignant.
Quinn sighed and softened. “I can keep you off SLOCO Daily,” she said. “But if you slip up—”
“Understood,” Hugo replied tersely, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Exposure was the last thing he wanted. “I’ll be more careful.”
“Promise?” Quinn pressed.
Hugo scowled at her uncertainty. But he appreciated her taking time from her vacation to call. “I’d do a pinkie swear, but you’re out of town.”
Quinn’s laugh broke the tension. “Okay.” She sounded relieved. “I need you to investigate something.”
“Sweet!” Hugo’s mood brightened. Superheroing was fun. But the secret-keeping and lies weighed on his soul. “What do you need?”
“Missing supers in Atascadero,” Quinn explained. “They all went to a neighborhood clinic. Search for any suspicious behavior or people who don’t belong.”
Hugo fingered an earring stud, already excited. “Absolutely.” Lady Liberty knew of his quid pro quo partnership with Quinn and didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t get in over his head. “Give me the details.”
“I’ll send to our encrypted cloud,” Quinn said. Geist’s hacker, Clint, had been kind enough to setup an encrypted dropbox for Hugo and her to share data.
He glanced around, making sure no one noticed. “I’ll check it out.”
“Be careful.” Caution laced Quinn’s words. “You don’t want to be in Paxton-Brandt’s crosshairs.”
Hugo rolled his eyes. “Sure, Mom.” The call ended soon afterward. Between Lady Liberty, Geist, and his own mother, too many adults were scolding Hugo about safety. Still, he appreciated Quinn's concern.
He shouldered his backpack, adjusting his Remember the Titan t-shirt, and weaved through the crowds. Sunlight poured through hallway windows, warming Hugo’s skin. Paso Robles High's corridors buzzed with joy, stress, and fear. Hugo knew why. School ended in two weeks. Joy swelled in his chest. Sophomore year had been…complicated. A summer focused on being Aegis would be the best palate cle
anser. He caught chatter across campus from students planning their summers, while others fretted over finals.
Grades didn’t concern Hugo, who was acing every class. His worries extended beyond Paso High to the safety of San Miguel. And Hugo’s friends—besides Simon—couldn’t know about this for their own safety. Even if it hurts our relationships. He swallowed hard and kept walking.
Before pocketing his cell, Hugo spotted a text from Jodie. She was in Rhode Island for a friend’s wedding until Monday, and had posted zero social media pictures. Hugo eagerly clicked the message.
Jodie B: A taste of what you’re missing…
Hugo’s jaw dropped. The picture revealed Jodie in a fancy blue dress for the wedding, flattering every inch of her curves. Her hair was in long and thin braids, skin glowing as she gave the camera an over-the-shoulder pouty gaze.
Pictures like that distracted Hugo entirely from heroics. “This one…” he murmured, loins stiffening.
ME: You’re getting a BIG welcome home gift for that teasing.
Hugo smiled while turning a corner toward a familiar group of voices.
“—so depressed when sophomore year ends,” Zoey Mendes fretted.
“Yea, I’m gonna cry buckets,” Spencer Michelman professed.
“Twelve days from now in the sixth month of the year!” Jen Thomas gushed. “What’s that equal?”
“Twelve times six equals you’re obnoxious?” Spencer snarked.
J-Tom scoffed. “My sweet sixteenth, grinch.”
“We know, luv,” Kendall Caruso replied, exasperated and amused.
“Hence the Goto Girls concert tickets in July,” Spencer added affectionately.
“Yay!” J-Tom exclaimed. The quartet of popular girls strutted confidently through the crowd. J-Tom led the pack, lanky and athletic. Her ginger hair, in a tight half-up-down style, sported highlights from constant sun. J-Tom’s adorable, sunshiny charm was on display as she gabbed with her friends. Kendall walked beside her, tossing back sleek curtains of blonde. Obsessed with the attention her tube dress got from boys, she remained as empty as she was pretty. Zoey followed Kendall, blandly attractive with bouncy curls and a dimply smile. From Hugo’s experience, she was a ruthless social climber.
Spencer ambled behind the others, texting on her phone with that bored and bitchy look Hugo had grown to love. Her complexion was overly bronzed, sleek black hair in a low ponytail. While not as curvy as Jordana, her body was thick in all the places boys liked, emphasized by close-fitting preppy attire. Hugo stared shamelessly. God, Spencer was hot, personality aside.
The quartet’s friendship radiated in every exchange, without an overbearing queen belittling them. Good riddance, Hugo scowled.
Briseis El-Saden’s downfall four months ago had split up the Sensational Six, creating a power vacuum in the sophomore class hierarchy. Many girl cliques had vied to be on top and failed to stay there. Lia Kim had tried laughably to become the new Queen Bee. But her ballooning ego had caused a falling out with her puppeteer, Spencer, who killed Lia’s popularity with some weaponized gossip. Now Lia was a lackey again in the Cool Asians clique. As for Brie, she’d rarely been seen around campus in months.
Not my problem. Hugo strode toward the girls, chest puffed out. “Ladies,” he greeted with a nod.
Spencer looked up from her phone.
“Hey, Bogie!” J-Tom waved both hands girlishly. Her nose ring gleamed under the hallway lights. Kendall and Zoey lit up with similar greetings.
Spencer watched Hugo blankly, her eyes an intense midnight blue. Another aspect of her beauty. As Hugo passed, she raised her brow in silent greeting. Electricity thrummed between them, brimming with addictive tension. Hugo held Spencer’s gaze with lazy awareness and winked.
Spencer blushed, rolling her wide eyes before rushing past him.
Hugo chuckled playfully. Triggering Spencer in public amused him. A text then buzzed his cell.
Marshmallow: You’re delicious. I want you for dessert.
ME: Come over tonight. After dinner.
Marshmallow: LMAO! Perfection.
Hugo beamed, hunger surging from throat to balls. Sexting with Spencer involved either food or song lyric euphemisms. Hugo enjoyed that oddball, and the abundance of girls in his life.
Familiar footsteps advanced, right before a pair of arms bearhugged him from behind. “Brosef!”
“Hey, Brent,” Hugo said blandly as the ballplayer set him down.
Brent Longwell grinned, in another basketball jersey and jean shorts, blond hair freshly buzzed. He thrust his cellphone in Hugo’s face. “It’s him! The hero who rescued me.”
Brent’s phone featured the same blurred image of Hugo tackling Monstrosity—on NY Post’s app.
Hugo grimaced. Clearly, many news sources didn’t believe Tomorrow Man. Since Hugo had rescued Brent, the basketballer had obsessed over his savior. Hugo chose his go-to response. Deflect, deflect, deflect. “How can you tell from one crappy image?”
Brent shrugged. “Same color costume.”
“Tomorrow Man’s taking credit,” a voice called out.
Hugo barely hid his relief. “Thank you, Simon!”
“Everyone knows except Brent.” Simon Han marched up with Grace Misawa—his girlfriend. Hugo’s best friend had grown two inches and let his Bruce Lee bowl cut grow shaggier. Grace’s feather earrings swayed, her hair in a top knot. Her polka-dot blazer fit over a self-made orange jumper.
Grace frowned at Brent’s cellphone. “That costume’s made for sneaky night moves, with no cape. And Tomorrow Man’s a famewhore. Probably him.”
Brent got a sulky look. “It’s not Tomorrow Man,” he seethed.
“Why else would he claim credit?” Hugo frowned at how easily the lies flowed. But he was over this debate. “We doing Beach Bum?”
That drew near universal agreement. Brent, seeing his argument overruled, deflated.
“Can’t,” Grace replied, dodging a harried teacher. “Lunch meeting with the other Songs coaches.”
“That explains the snazzy blazer,” Hugo replied, pointing at her attire.
Grace lit up. “Don’t I look so fucking adult?” she gushed, then turned to Simon with a cutesy face. “Grab that dessert I like?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Thought I was the dessert you like.”
Grace cackled. “Maybe…baby.” She kissed Simon. Soon their hands wandered all over each other.
Brent gagged.
“Find an AirBnB!” Hugo shouted. Regardless, he was beyond happy for them.
Grace finally pulled back, red-faced. Simon was swaying. “Later, boys.” She sashayed off down the hall. Simon watched her leave, grinning like an idiot.
Hugo dragged him away. “Move, Romeo!” Simon and Grace’s road had been tricky, with both briefly dating other people. But after Hugo had called out their stupidity, they’d been together ever since.
Hugo and his friends reached Beach Bum Burger near school on a sun-drenched afternoon. Superhero billboards were everywhere in downtown Paso Robles. The Extreme Teens took up poster real estate for the upcoming blockbuster The Girl Who Fell. Sunrider, golden and gorgeous, had replaced Missy Magnificent as the lead after the first Unbreakable Girl film.
Other billboards featured The Elite. Thor, Samson, Nike, Morrigan, Vishnu, and Apollo glared at him like a pack of superpowered thugs. Hugo shuddered. Their publicity had increased since Paxton-Brandt came out as their sponsor. And they were entering a competitive market. Seneca International sponsored most of America's regional heroes, like the team Freedom’s Ring in Pennsylvania and Kansas City-based hero Bluehawk. OWE dominated the teen superhero category. Hugo hoped Paxton-Brandt choked.
After everyone ordered lunch, Hugo secretly scanned the surrounding neighborhoods. No signs of escaped inmates. Hugo relaxed as his crew found seats, but stayed vigilant.
Minutes later, Raphael Turner and John ‘JT’ Torres joined them. JT was stocky with a caramel complexion. Raphael was a boulder of a boy with cr
opped curls, standing slightly taller than Hugo. High-fives and hugs were exchanged, Raphael bringing positivity wherever he was.
“Two more weeks,” Simon stated.
“Can’t wait,” Hugo exclaimed. “What are your summer plans?”
“Ft. Lauderdale.” Brent chewed a double cheeseburger. “Then basketball camp in LA.”
“Summer school,” Simon replied. “And my family’s annual South Korea trip!”
“Puerto Rico, bay bay!” Raphael clapped excitedly.
JT beamed. “The Fab Phenoms are battling Central Cali and SoCal’s best dance crews. Right, Bogie?”
Hugo found himself cringing again. Once school ended, Wale would make the crew practice their asses off daily. Hugo couldn’t make that commitment. He forced on a smile. “Yeah, JT.” He glanced at Simon, whose expression said “Make a decision.” Hugo maturely ignored him.
“And your summer plans, Hugo?” Brent asked. “Besides Dancing with the Phenoms.”
Hugo kept things simple. “Chilling with Jodie…”
Raphael snorted. “And Taylor.”
“And half the Atascadero cheerleading team,” Brent added, drawing laughs around the table.
Hugo’s cheeks burned. “Whatever.” He slurped his soda. Deflecting suspicion from his superhero life had succeeded. Still, his friends’ blithe ridicule irked.
Something caught JT’s eye. “Legs,” he hissed.
Brent, Raphael and Simon reacted with disdain.
Hugo was confused. “Huh?”
“Easy Abby.” Simon said, nodding past Hugo. “She’s called Legs, cuz she likes spreading them.”
Abby Dunleavey came strutting past, long, lean, and lovely in skimpy summer attire. Her short blonde hair was teased back with a headband. Goddamn. Hugo had another playdate planned with Abby soon.
As she passed, Brent, Raphael, and JT whispered crude remarks that shouldn’t be repeated. And by her flinching reaction, Abby heard them. She kept walking. Brent’s comments didn’t shock Hugo. An amazing basketball season had made him arrogant. Raphael and JT chiming in was surprising.
“Guys. C’mon,” Hugo interjected. Rehashing Abby’s well-known reputation was pointless.