by Ekeke, C. C.
A distant jet engine grew in volume. Hugo looked up, and his eyes widened.
Samson was falling, a giant bat out of hell. And still conscious. Motherfuck!
Hugo weighed his options. Either let Samson fall and cause more street damage. Or…
With the big man about to crash-land, Hugo stood underneath and swung both hands like a club.
The blow to the chin whacked Samson farther down the avenue than expected.
Hugo dashed in pursuit, jumping up and punching. Samson went flailing away. Hugo erased the space between them in seconds, jumping and drilling him in the torso.
Hurtling over this congested street, he threw more power behind each punch, keeping Samson off the ground and off-balance. Hopefully, a few more blows would knock him out--
Wait a minute. Clearing another eighteen-wheeler without touching down grabbed Hugo’s attention. Like riding a cushion of air. He looked down, and gawked.
A shadow flew several feet above ground—his shadow.
I’m flying! Hugo grinned stupidly—and flew past Samson’s thrashing body.
Seconds later, he was over ten blocks away. Shitshitshit. How did one stop flying?
Hugo dipped and dug his fingers into concrete, tearing up a long track. Only then did he land. Samson came spinning head over heels toward him—about to fall.
Hugo wanted to fly toward him. But using a new and unreliable power during battle could lead to disaster, as Lady Liberty had instructed.
Hugo crouched in runner’s stance. The air crackled as he pooled his strength.
“Run, Hugo, run.” He took off, pumping his legs faster than before. He recalled something Jordana had done in a flag football game. Hope this works.
He pushed faster until running up against what felt like an invisible rubber band around his waist, preventing an increase. Hugo raged against the limitation, screaming, and pushed…his…limits.
The rubber band snapped.
Hugo exploded forward even faster, a shock to the system. Samson’s massive frame got closeup really quick. This time Hugo ducked low, spearing him in the midsection.
The impact buffeted the surrounding buildings, cracks spidering up their lengths. Samson yelped, several ribs snapping like toothpicks. Hugo’s shoulder nearly separated.
He lay on his back, new aches blossoming. The world swam in circles. “That felt awful,” he groaned. But was Samson finally down? Hugo muscled up to his knees to confirm.
Samson lay prone half a block away, cradling his belly. Agony twisted his roughhewn face. Every breath sounded choked. Samson tried reaching for Hugo, desperate to wound, and collapsed.
Four down. Hugo exhaled—and got kicked in the jaw, loosening his molars. He landed on his back.
Vishnu mounted him. “You may have felled Apollo.” His four fists worked Hugo over ferociously, pummeling him down. “And Nike. And Morrigan.”
“Don’t…forget Samson,” Hugo quipped, swatting aside a blow and aiming a savant kick.
Vishnu caught the kick in one hand, and his two left arms lashed out. Hugo ate a pair of stinging lefts to the face. He slumped down, reeling and wounded.
Vishnu marched in, red eyes glittering. “You won’t save Paxton-Brandt!”
Hugo wheezed, pushing up to a knee. “Think I want to?” His snark earned a dropkick to the face, tumbling him back in a heap.
Vishnu brandished a chakra for all four hands. “Truth and justice always win—”
Hugo exploded forward in a heartbeat, spearing Vishnu off the ground with a linebacker’s ferocity. He popped up with a defiant roar, watching Vishnu on the ground clutching his chest. “My thoughts exactly!”
Then something or several somethings, suddenly flew up and dinged Hugo, accompanied by a ratatatatatat. Hugo turned, spotting two helicopters on an intercept course, firing special volleys at him and Vishnu. They didn’t break skin but definitely stung.
Hugo raised a hand to shield his face. “Now you show up?”
Vishnu beelined for the choppers. Absorbing the brunt of the gunfire, chakras in hand, he bounded toward his attackers.
“No, you don’t!” Hugo growled and leaped after him.
He intercepted Vishnu mid-air, dragging him by the waist from the chopper he planned to disembowel. Hugo plunged down with added speed, a thrashing Vishnu across one shoulder. He landed on a knee, bending his foe in half. CRCK!
The afterburn of an approaching warhead caught Hugo’s ear. A missile screamed toward him. Instead of dodging, he tossed Vishnu in the way.
The bright, bone-jarring eruption threw Hugo to the ground again.
When the smoke cleared, Vishnu was a broken pile of limbs, blue skin discolored by countless burns.
A superhuman buster bomb. A chill went through Hugo. The streets around, from the sidewalks to the surrounding buildings, roared approval.
Five down… Hugo glared up with an unsettled awareness. The twin military helicopters hovered in place, silent, deadly specters with machine guns trained on him.
Hugo pointed to Vishnu’s and Samson’s bodies, his eyes unwavering. Then he dashed toward the final Elite member.
He heard Thor before seeing him, somewhere in downtown’s Bishop Square near the Paxton-Brandt complex. Lightning flashed within the city center, followed by fiery plumes.
“Vishnu, come in,” Thor bellowed into whatever comm system The Elite were using. He cut a hulking figure in his singed furs, covered in bruises and soot. “Samson, respond!”
Hugo braked to a stop a few feet away. He drank in the ruins that that downtown had become. Flaming wrecks of more helicopters and armored vehicles from OSA and FBI staff littered up and down the street. That came with the overturned and twisted cars, busted and cracked buildings, shredded streets from earlier.
It spread before Hugo like some post-apocalyptic horror film. Except these were real consequences. A quick listen to the government vehicles found few survivors. Hugo’s stomach twisted in knots.
Thor paced, hammer in hand while tapping an earpiece beneath shaggy red hair. “Morrigan, respond.” There was a crack in his voice saying her name, betraying an intimate connection.
“No one’s coming,” Hugo called out, startling him. The teen centered his stance. “Except me.”
Thor sized him up and snorted. “Small threat.”
Hugo's nostrils flared at the dismissal. “I’m sure Samson thought that,” he threw back in his Aegis voice. “And Nike. And Apollo. Morrigan and Vishnu. Where are they?” He raised five fingers on one hand, signifying five fallen teammates.
Thor's eyes sparked with blue lightning, like his hammer. “None of them are me.”
Hugo had no doubt after seeing Thor in battle. Beyond the wreckage, swarms of idiots still lined the streets, clamoring for him to kick Thor’s ass.
That sobered Hugo considerably. He lowered his fists. There had to be another way. “We can stop this,” he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “Let go of your hate and surrender.”
Thor’s mouth fell open. For a moment, Hugo saw fatigue and anger war for dominance on his face. He allowed himself to hope.
Thor’s features hardened, his stare venomous. “Paxton-Brandt stole my life,” he answered quietly. “You destroyed my team.” He shook his shaggy-haired head. “Hated is all I have left.”
That snuffed away any hope Hugo once held. “Thor, please…”
Thor lifted his hammer skyward. Clouds gathered overhead, issuing a radiant bolt onto his hammer. Electricity sizzled through Thor. He puffed out his chest, visibly rejuvenated. “I will win. And you’ll suffer before your death.”
Hugo sighed. “You can try.” He hurtled forward, slamming into Thor.
And the pair rolled around through wreckage in a flurry of punches and kicks.
Unlike Apollo, Thor was an experienced and underhanded fighter, giving him an advantage. Though Hugo’s speed upped how many strikes he landed. But he couldn’t fire off another sonic scream as Thor would punch him in the thro
at or cover his mouth altogether. By how Thor moved and punched, all smarting a lot, Hugo could tell they were equals in strength.
They collided through a stone wall like it were paper mâché, grappling ferociously for supremacy. Hugo headbutted Thor’s chest, then lunged for that hammer. The Norseman slammed a fist into Hugo’s battered chest, followed by a dropkick.
And Hugo went somersaulting and skidding out of the building into one cluster of bystanders. Most scrambled away in time. He lurched up, gasping for breath. These people, many younger than Hugo, were still gaping as if never seeing a superhero before. “Move, idiots!” Hugo bellowed, waving them off. “MOVE!” That finally jolted many to flee. But not enough.
Hugo shook his head in disgust as Thor emerged from the building with a strange expression.
At first Hugo was confused, until Thor started smiling. “If you care for these people, then die with them.” He jutted his hammer to the skies.
The clouded heavens flashed in reply. Thor directed his hammer at a dozen or so children with a few adult chaperones. Out-of-town tourists for sure. Fingers of dread crawled up Hugo’s spine. He ran as fast as his legs could move.
A thick white bolt forked down from the skies, too fast to be fathomed.
Hugo threw himself in its path. Lightning impaled his body, barbequing him inside out.
He went rigid, white-hot heat briefly erasing all thought.
Once his nerve endings stopped burning, he noticed he’d plowed through a row of cars.
The children and their chaperones he’d save stared in petrified shock. Hugo fought to a knee, every ligament protesting. “GO!” he ordered in a pained rasp.
Now the crowds finally ran screaming before Thor’s approach. He pointed his hammer again.
The next fork blasted Hugo down the boulevard, chewing through a city block of pavement. The electricity doused him for a long while. All Hugo wanted was to escape the pain and sleep forever….
The lightning stopped. Hugo lay on his back in a well-cooked heap. His suit sizzled. He cringed at what underneath must look like. He lifted his head.
Thor strolled forward, twirling his hammer. The dark clouds roiled.
Thor’s euphoria was sickening. “Stay down, boy.” He raised his hammer.
Hugo had to grab Thor’s weapon. Or…I’m finished. Along with everyone in the Paxton-Brandt tower.
And Hugo wasn’t dying today. He fought through agony, overheated muscles, forcing himself to move.
Just not fast enough…
Another lightning bolt slashed the sky open, stabbing Hugo between the shoulder blades. Every nerve ending caught fire. A red glaze washed over everything. And he screamed.
Chapter 52
Quinn was glued to the TV, sitting beside her cousins, Rory and Roland, in the Buchanans’ living room.
Any other night, this might make for a fun family gathering, plus Jordana’s friend, Jen Thomas.
But tonight’s mood had taken a somber turn.
After Hugo had defeated Apollo and Nike in a tornado of movement, she’d cheered.
“As long as Samson’s around, he’s screwed,” Uncle Anthony had said. Quinn had agreed. And Hugo had still been outnumbered four-to-one.
Then he’d defeated Samson, with what Rory had called a supersonic spear.
Hugo’s actually winning! Quinn had mused. Unlike Tomorrow Man, Hugo had fought smart against The Elite.
Jodie, Rory, and Roland had cheered. Jen leaned forward, clapping.
Morrigan fell. Then Vishnu, leaving only Thor.
The entire Buchanan household was cheering as Aegis battled this false thunder god in the heart of San Miguel. Both supers were evenly matched, dishing out bone-jarring blows, smashing through buildings.
With each blow Hugo had landed, Quinn's hope had risen. He’s going to win.
...until Thor was aiming lightning at civilians. Hugo had no choice but to shield them with his body.
That first strike had thrown Hugo through a row of cars.
Quinn squeaked. Her extended family recoiled. Jen gasped.
Highly durable or not, Hugo was rising too slowly for Quinn’s liking.
Regardless, she believed in him.
Thor raised his hammer, a sadistic smile under his bushy beard, raining down more lightning.
Hugo tried running and got drilled into the concrete.
“C’mon, Aegis,” she mouthed. “Don’t give up!”
The fourth lightning bolt made Hugo scream and convulse, scorching more of Quinn’s hope away. A sob escaped her mouth.
Rory and Roland had grown uncomfortable. Jordana pressed herself against her seat, clinging to a stricken Jen. Aunt Cecilia and Uncle Anthony held each other.
But Hugo kept inching toward Thor. And more lightning speared him down, each bolt illuminating the horror in the Buchanan living room.
This reminded Quinn of Helena getting electrocuted. She wept.
Aunt Cecilia covered Roland’s and Rory’s eyes. Both shrugged her off.
“Mom!” Rory complained.
“Upstairs,” she pointed to the stairwell. The twins loudly protested.
“Boys.” Uncle Anthony gave them a stern look. Rory and Roland stomped upstairs, steaming.
“I’m sixteen,” Jordana cut Auntie Cecilia off. “I’m staying put!”
Quinn’s stomach churned like a blender. She had to turn away or risk vomiting again. As Jordana was peeking behind a hand, her friend was in tears, hands covering her mouth, quaking in silent horror. That reaction came off as excessive to Quinn, cutting through her own misery. Jen's grief felt personal, as if…
Quinn sucked in a ragged gasp. Jen knows.
How did this girl know about Hugo? Had she told Jodie?
Another scream whipped Quinn back to the screen to watch Hugo, costume charred and smoking, crawling toward his enemy. Were no other heroes coming?
Thor was no longer amused. “Don’t be stupid!” he roared at Hugo. “Stay down!”
Another lightning bolt forked down from the skies, impaling Hugo to the fractured concrete.
Quinn’s heart lurched horribly, and she nearly fell backward. “Hugo …” she whispered soft enough that no one heard. Right now, she hated Thor more than Paxton-Brandt.
Hugo barely pushed up to his elbows, crawling even slower, agony etched in his face with each effort.
“STAY DOWN!” Thor unleashed another strike.
The TV screen turned blinding white, fading to reveal Hugo facedown for several moments.
Yet somehow, he feebly crawled forward again.
Quinn clutched her head in crazed grief. Stay down, Hugo.
“I can’t watch.” Uncle Anthony rose and marched for the kitchen.
Thor loomed over Hugo imperiously. His hammer crackled electric blue. The camera zoomed in.
Through blurry vision, Quinn saw sorrow coloring Thor’s face. “You fought hard,” he acknowledged. “You fought well. But I will have my revenge.” His features went cold.
Hugo pushed up to his knees, swaying and wheezing as Thor raised his hammer. “Now.” The Norseman’s voice was a low rumble. “We end this.”
An enormous bolt snaked down, and the screen flashed white. The bloodcurdling scream that filled the living room was the stuff of nightmares.
Jen Thomas sobbed. Quinn crumbled, turning away. She could not—would not watch Hugo die.
Minutes passed before the screams finally ebbed, burned into memory. Thor just killed Hugo…
“Q…” Jordana jabbed her shoulder. “Look…”
Quinn shook her head. “I can’t…” She didn’t have the strength to see that brave boy’s corpse.
Jordana smacked her forehead. Quinn stared in teary-eyed disbelief. Her cousin pointed. “Look!”
Against every instinct, Quinn looked.
She sprang to her feet. “What the…?”
Chapter 53
How am...I not dead? As smoke cleared, Hugo found his way through white noise, scorched m
uscles, crippling dizziness. He stood on rickety legs about to buckle. His deep-fried brain couldn’t decipher where he’d gotten that last-instant burst of superspeed to grab Thor. Must’ve been the life-flashing-before-his-eyes fear that overtook his broken-down body.
His forearms were cramping up from that last lightning strike. But Thor’s broad-shouldered body had shielded Hugo from the worst of the false thunder god’s own attack.
Now Thor sagged in Hugo’s grip, Viking furs singed, face and arms overcooked. He looked as terrible as Hugo felt.
Thor’s bloodshot eyes widened. “How??” he wheezed out.
Hugo pulled him close, barely seeing straight. His wrecked body nearly pitched forward. “My turn…” Digging through searing pain and fatigue, Hugo drew upon waning power and sank a hard fist into Thor’s stomach.
The Norseman folded and sagged.
Not enough. Hugo uppercutted Thor’s chest, cracking the sternum through the armor. And Thor’s limp body got launched upward.
Not…enough… Hugo spun and rose with every scrap of his remaining strength. The uppercut struck Thor’s jaw like a cannon blast.
At the same time, a KEESH-KEESH-KEESH-KEESH ripped across both ends of the block.
That sent Thor soaring up and up until he disappeared into the starry sky.
As soon as Hugo landed, his legs became spaghetti beneath him. He was drained. And what were these showers of glass clinking musically on torn-up avenues?
It took Hugo a minute to realize the glass came from this city block’s surrounding buildings. He’d punched Thor hard enough to shatter every window.
He sucked in half a dozen deep breaths through scorched lungs. He still couldn’t see straight, nearly falling more than once when trying to stand. Firetrucks doused hungry flames devouring vehicles and buildings. Raucous cheers reminded Hugo that he was in downtown.
“It’s over…” he whispered, swaying dangerously. I’m hurt…bad. More than severe pain running down his spine and nausea twisting up his guts. But this weird roar in his ears made everything sound faraway. He had to get away before he passed out...
Cheers became screams and gasps. Hugo frowned over his shoulder. What he saw spun him around, every muscle protesting. “No…way.”