The Pantheon Saga | Book 4 | Gods of Wrath

by Ekeke, C. C.

  The veteran looked surprisingly frail, uncertainty dominating her face.

  “No bullshit excuses this time!” Hugo demanded in his normal voice. “You fell from the sky?”

  Lady Liberty turned away with such shame, Hugo instantly regretted his outburst. “My powers are fading,” she answered in a small voice.

  Cold fingers of fear clutched Hugo’s spine. “Are you dying?”

  “No.” Lady Liberty actually laughed, shedding her stoic Amazonian aura. “I’m not a superhuman like you, Aegis. My powers come from being an Exemplar to the Orb of Apollyon, a very powerful artifact.” Her muscles trembled as she pushed up to one knee. “The mantle has existed for centuries, and has been held by other exemplars from The Valkabah Order, who serve as guardians to the Orb.”

  Hugo didn’t know his mouth was open until he tried and failed to reply. “Yeahbutwhaaaa?” Not at all what he’d expected as the source of Lady Liberty’s powers.

  She continued, the gentle breeze tousling her brunette locks. “In 1996, I was trekking through the Bolivian Amazon and accidentally found the previous exemplar, dying and under attack by some monster.” Her eyes glazed over as she relived her origin. “I shielded her with my body. Members of the Valkabah found us in time, but she expired. And my bravery earned me the mantle over actual members in the order. I’ve held it since then and called myself Lady Liberty.”

  Hugo was still lost. He sat on his behind. “Why are your powers fading…?”

  “The four years I took off, after giving birth to Zelda?” Lady Liberty’s eyes sparked to life. “I wasn’t sure if I’d retire. Until another warrior from the Order challenged me.” Distaste flooded her face. “That claimant was unworthy. So I undertook the trials against him and won.”

  Ms. Ortiz rose. The weariness on her face seemed to age her by ten years. “Now someone challenges me again, which is why my powers have fluctuated painfully…for a few weeks.” The helplessness on her face was jarring. “I’ve tried to delay, but I cannot ignore the call any longer.”

  Hugo stood with her. His breathing grew difficult as the panic spread. “When are you coming back?”

  “I don’t know,” Lady Liberty remarked sadly. “The trials could last a few days or several weeks. But when I return…” She paled. “I might not be Lady Liberty anymore.”

  Hugo grasped her shoulders, terrified by this possible future. “Then don't lose. The world needs you. And I’m not ready…”

  Ms. Ortiz's sad smile cracked Hugo's heart. “There’s so much I want to teach you. But you are ready.”

  Her face hardened. She was back in Lady Liberty mode. “San Miguel is under your protection. Remain within its borders and guard it well, Aegis.”

  The mandate was a mule kick to Hugo’s jaw. “Whoa… What about Zelda?”

  Lady Liberty put both hands on her womanly hips. “Justice Jones will watch her. And your mom when he’s busy. Farewell for now.” She crouched low before shooting up into the skies.

  Hugo watched Lady Liberty vanish from sight, afraid and more alone.

  Not at all the hero that San Miguel needed.

  Chapter 22

  Greyson hadn’t slept well in days, his dreams stuck on villagers getting drilled by hailstorms of bullets.

  Fourteen innocent victims, the life gone out of their eyes.

  Sitting at a restaurant in the town of Missiones for lunch, he barely had an appetite. Guilt twisted his stomach into knots, sending him into the bathroom.

  It took several minutes for the heaving to stop.

  Greyson slumped against a wall, wiping bile from his lips. He’d gotten numb to watching and delivering death. But many were soldiers and gladiators, people who could fight back. Those fourteen villagers had just been trying to get through another day.

  I had them killed to get one man. He clutched his sweaty scalp. Part of him welcomed the guilt. That proved some humanity remained.

  He finally pushed upright after someone angrily banged on the stall door.

  “Alright,” he barked in Spanish, pushing the door open. After paying his bill, Greyson left the eatery.

  The sun peeked intermittently behind grey billows. He strolled the streets of this small town at the jungle's edge, the earth deep red. Rows of square buildings and homes made ramshackle yet colorful rainbows stretching down each street. The residents lived simply, despite a fear of the cartels. Yet they believed Diablo was their savior--how ironic. Greyson smiled watching half a dozen boys, browned-skinned and lean, darting around playing soccer. Or a pair of older women at a café jabbering about some gossip.

  He would never know this kind of peace. Not until his mission was complete.

  But will people like this be collateral? For months, Greyson had been so sure of his mission. Rid the world of these superpowered false messiahs. But those villagers’ deaths had shaken him to his core.

  He shuffled beyond Missiones’s borders, deep in thought.

  Become a monster to slay worse monsters, Greyson owned that path. What was the point if the people he meant to save all died?

  Your employer wants Diablo dead, one voice rationalized. Delgado’s children had been losing patience with the lack of results.

  But at what cost? another voice countered.

  Greyson strolled deep into untamed woodlands. Sunlight lanced through clouds, sparkling along the muddy river. There was only one person who could help when his morale hit such a low. Connie…

  The hollow pit in his chest from her absence flared. Driven by need, he fished the burner phone from his pocket and scrolled for her number. Will she answer? Doubt seized Greyson before he could dial.

  You can’t, he reminded himself, stuffing the cell back in his pocket.

  Soon after, Greyson frowned. The sound of scorched air reached him, closing in fast.

  Ah shit… He increased his gravity field, bolstering his durability and spun around.

  A fiery comet slammed into Greyson so hard, he thought every rib shattered.

  He must’ve passed out, suddenly finding himself sailing backward, surrounded by glorious light. Grogginess bled away when he saw clouds zipping by. Each breath was a chore. I’m in the sky.

  Diablo gripped him around his waist. “Fourteen innocents!” his distorted voice bellowed. “DEAD! Because of you!”

  Greyson struggled to free himself. But Diablo grabbed him by the throat and plunged down. Ridiculous mask aside, Diablo’s eyes burned like red stars. “Is this what you wanted? To draw me out?” He raised a glowing fist. “Here I am!”

  Sore sternum aside, Greyson shook with laughter. And like that, his faith was reignited. “And you fell for it! You dumb motherfucker!”

  With a hand wave, he increased Diablo’s gravity by ten.

  The vigilante’s glowing eyes bulged, before he dropped from the skies.

  Greyson flipped Diablo over in mid-fall. This had been the plan. Pissing the vigilante off so he’d make a mistake.

  He’s mine. Greyson rained punches down on Diablo with gravity-enhanced fists.

  The river’s glittering coil below grew closer by the instant. “You’re gonna die,” he snarled, pounding his enemy's face in. “knowing you’re a fraud!”

  Diablo caught one of Greyson’s punches. His glowing eyes narrowed. “What are you even talking about?” He discharged blinding radiance.

  Greyson cried out, shielding his eyes. And, Diablo slipped through his grasp.

  Fuming, he opened his eyes to a purple afterimage one saw after staring too long at the sun. Diablo was gone, countering Greyson’s powers—again.

  And muddy brown water came rushing up. “Godammit!”

  He frantically negated his own gravity, halting mere inches above the turbulent river.

  The relief was short-lived. Greyson tethered his gravity to a tree across the water, yanking himself forward. A thick energy beam punctured the river surface instants later.

  Greyson repelled from the ground to soar over the blanket of green forest. A
nd Diablo came hurtling after him. “Another of the cartel’s hired guns running like a coward.”

  Greyson glanced over his shoulder, offended. “I’m not—”

  “You are,” Diablo growled, firing off a blistering golden beam.

  Greyson barely ducked that blast. The claim rankled as the town he’d just left appeared over the horizon.

  “Why are you running, perrita?”

  Greyson sped toward Missiones. “More like a strategic retreat.” Despite the voice modulator, that taunt and the accent gave Diablo away as a local. And coming after Greyson directly revealed another fact. Diablo either had an informant with the cartel. Or he was one of Delgado's lieutenants.

  Greyson would find out after killing Diablo. He searched the town’s taller buildings. A red-bricked Catholic basilica came into view, old, majestic, and crafted with care. The lofty bell tower beside the basilica, also red-bricked. Perfect…

  “Think you’re the first pet assassin the cartel’s hired?” Diablo hollered. They flew over the town square, drawing everyone’s attention. “You all come from the same arrogant cloth. Thinking that you can stop me from destroying the cartel.”

  Greyson weaved under another blast that almost seared his shirt off. He closed in on the bell tower and passed it, Diablo following seconds later.

  “I am different!” Greyson tugged, tethering the tower’s iron bell to Diablo at six times its normal gravity. “You’re just too self-righteous to see...”

  The centuries-old tower exploded, spraying stone chunks and dust everywhere.

  Diablo never saw the bell until it struck. The collision knocked him head over heels like a crash test dummy, tumbling across several roofs before spilling to the ground.

  The pleasant square erupted in screams, bystanders running to avoid the debris.

  “…Until it’s too late.” Greyson smirked, landing a few feet ahead of Diablo.

  Diablo stirred, in clear pain. Greyson knew he’d hurt him badly.

  The vigilante fought to a crouch and lifted off.

  Greyson snapped a hand out, tripling Diablo’s gravity pull and yanking him back down. The vigilante landed so forcefully, he bounced. “Now who’s running like a perrita?” Greyson mocked.

  The crowd gasped, some crying out to their hero.

  Greyson sneered. Soon they will all learn about this fraud. He clutched the rusted bell with invisible fingers. The massive object floated on Greyson’s command, gravitating toward a fallen Diablo.

  “Stop!” someone cried. A skinny teen boy with fluffy black hair threw himself in front of Diablo. He waved his arms in panic.

  Greyson paused. Did this kid have a death wish? “Stay out of this.” He resumed his approach. The iron bell glided closer to Diablo.

  Diablo, on one knee, tried pushing this stupid fetus away. “Julian,” he pleaded weakly, “please…go.”

  Julian refused to budge. “No!”

  To Greyson’s shock, twenty more villagers formed a protective wall around Diablo.

  “We won’t let you harm him,” one older woman declared.

  Even though some were shaking, outwardly terrified, their resolve was unmistakable.

  Greyson stopped again, balling up his fists. He had no wish to kill these people. But if they kept him from victory… “Diablo makes you weak!” Greyson barked. “He wants you to be dependent on him alone!” God, I sound unhinged. And by the villagers’ frightened looks, Greyson assumed correctly.

  He drew in a calming breath and pointed at the superhero hiding among these brainwashed villagers. “Diablo will fail you.”

  The villagers surrounding their hero stood firm. “No, he won’t,” Julian puffed his chest out, reminding Greyson of Rodrigo from Amarantha. Another bitter, bloody memory.

  “Diablo never fails us,” another person called out, drawing applause and vociferous agreement.

  Greyson rolled his eyes. “Fine. MOVE.” He spread both arms aggressively, tethering the gravity of these idiot villagers to buildings on both sides of the street. The villagers around Diablo were yanked away in opposite directions like the parting of a sea. They were now pinned against the walls of buildings on both sides, thrashing and struggling helplessly.

  More cries of terror. They were about to watch their hero die.

  Diablo slumped alone on the unpaved street, wheezing through his mask. His arms hung limp at his sides. He was helpless.

  Greyson smiled broadly. “Now where were we—?”

  A rifle’s clack from getting loaded stopped Greyson. “One more step and we end you.”

  He turned to see those two peaceful old ladies from earlier pointing rifles at his head. A further glance up saw other residents on the balconies pointing guns at Greyson. Others did the same from the windows of their houses and stores. At least two dozen or more guns were aimed at him.

  “Are you kidding me?” Greyson spat.

  The old woman angled her gun at Greyson’s crotch, her face stony.

  These fucking people… “I can kill all of you…” Greyson roared with a swiping gesture. “Without breaking a sweat!” He would do it just to kill Diablo.

  “Then be quick,” another man called from a balcony, two handguns pointed at Greyson.

  “Diablo is one of us.” The old woman’s mouth twitched, but her rifle grip never wavered. “We protect our own, gringo.” The click-clack of more guns filled the town square.

  Greyson seethed, power coursing through him in rivers.

  He’d crush all their bones under their own weight. He’d nullify their gravitational pulls so that this whole town floated into the atmosphere and asphyxiated.

  Making you worse than any hero, Greyson realized. Those fourteen innocent villagers wandered into the forefront of his mind, staring back with lifeless gazes.

  Greyson’s vision blurred from budding tears. He lowered his hand as afternoon radiance poured down.

  Dying in defense of Diablo would make them martyrs. There has to be another way, he decided, tears spilling down his cheeks.

  “This isn’t over." Diablo would die. Just not today.

  Greyson tapped into his power, repelling the earth’s gravity. Blasting several miles into the sky, he hurtled away at top speed.

  Chapter 23

  “No!” Groban howled.

  Grace’s almond-shaped eyes widened. “What?” Her voice was a sharp slap.

  “Say it ain’t so!” JT clutched his head, devastated.

  “I’m sorry,” Hugo replied over the outcries. Standing in workout clothes at Aethon Studios before the other Fab Phenoms, he’d waited until the end of practice to tell them. He had to quit.

  Protecting San Miguel had restricted his time severely. Each Phenom reacted exactly as Hugo had predicted. But that didn’t shield his heart from their collective surprise and anger.

  “I hate this,” Hugo continued, voice thick with emotion. He ran both hands through spiky hair to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Or were those tears? “But I have to.”

  “No, you don't!” Karin Stanley cried, teary-eyed.

  “We can work this out.” Her twin, Marin, nodded.

  “Please!” both Stanleys pleaded.

  Hugo despised himself with every cell in his body. But since school had ended days ago, guarding San Miguel had proved to be a giant-sized task. “I can’t,” Hugo blurted out. “I got a temp job and won’t have time for the Fab Phenoms.”

  More disapproval flooded the studios. Hugo had to turn away or else he’d crack.

  “Then quit. We need you,” Grace threw back, standing up.

  Hugo forced himself to meet her gaze. “I’d rather quit the Phenoms than disappoint you again.” His voice cracked. God, this sucked. “I love y’all too much.”

  Wale remained silent while everyone protested. “Is this what you want?” he said after a long moment.

  “No.” Hugo’s heart ached as he shook his head again. “But I have to for most of this summer. I’ll attend the competitions.” This wasn’t a p
ermanent separation. “You guys are family.”

  Wale approached, sad but appreciative. “Thanks for telling us.” He spread his arms.

  Hugo embraced Wale readily. Everyone else hugged him, many in tears.

  Grace pulled him outside. “I have a lot of feelings about this,” she declared. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t have time,” Hugo answered. The muggy evening prickled his skin.

  “It’s more than that,” Grace threw back, unconvinced. “You’re so secretive now. And not just about Spencer Michelman.” She gripped his arms, fingers barely finding purchase around his massive biceps. Her worry intensified. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me, Bogie.”

  After years of friendship, Hugo wanted to tell Grace everything. And it wasn’t fair for Simon to lie for him. But Hugo knew the dangers of anyone knowing his secret, remembering AJ's pain. With a heavy heart, he put on a smile…and another lie. “I’m just busy with my new job. That’s it.”

  Grace recoiled with visible hurt. “Fine. Be that way.” She turned angrily and marched back inside.

  Hugo didn’t stop her. More isolation. More lies. All to be a hero.

  Walking home for another night of patrolling, he barely held back tears.

  “G-Mama thinks you’re on drugs,” Simon had stated the following morning when they’d met to identify crime hot spots around the city. “I’m assuring her that you’re not.”

  The constant dishonesty was gnawing at Hugo’s soul. “Sorry you have to lie for me.”

  Simon shrugged the dilemma off. “Bros over hos, uso.”

  The next few days of morning and night patrols bled together. The City of Wonder had been tame besides normal car chases, robberies, and hostage situations. Hugo, as Aegis, handled each situation quickly like Lady Liberty had taught, zooming away without a trace.

  One night, Hugo encountered a gang robbing San Luis Obispo Bank’s Arroyo Grande office. They’d attached encryption gear to the bank’s ATM to steal funds. The criminals used masks of Titan, Lady Liberty, Tsunami, December, Sentinel, and Whiz Kid’s faces. That revolted Hugo more than the actual robbery.