The Pantheon Saga | Book 4 | Gods of Wrath

by Ekeke, C. C.

  Hugo stared at the door in surprise. Of all people…

  Simon got up also. “What’s up?”

  “Hold on...” Hugo reached the foyer in three strides. But he waited until the doorbell rang before opening the door for his guest. “Hello…”

  Jordana Buchanan looked furious, hands on hips. She also looked ridiculously sexy in a tight white short-sleeved blouse and a denim skirt hugging those thick hips. Jodie’s long and loose ebony curls shone under the porchlight. “You can’t answer a fucking text or a phone call?” she said tartly.

  Hugo tried not to laugh. She was so cute when angry. “Some friends needed my help.” All truths, just stripped of the details.

  “Oh…” That sucked the anger out of Jodie. “I usually don’t do this. Showing up at a boy’s house unannounced.” Jodie’s face held such intense longing. “But I hated how things ended with us.”

  “Same,” Hugo replied tenderly. Between Abbie’s lies, Spence’s villainy, Jodie’s rejection, and Brie’s self-destruction, he’d processed none of it. But Jodie’s presence made Hugo’s wounded heart sing. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  Jodie bit her lip nervously. “Can we can talk?”

  Hugo stepped aside. “Yea, sure.”

  “Nice sweater,” Jodie remarked, pointing a Hugo’s Vanguard pullover. She walked past the foyer and froze. “Simon?” She looked from him to Hugo, squinting. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Korea?”

  Hugo cringed. Jordana’s visit had provided no time for a cover story.

  “I’m not here,” Simon blurted out. “You didn’t see me.”

  AJ burst out laughing, which didn't help.

  Jordana eyed the three boys suspiciously. “Right.” She grabbed Hugo’s arm, bouncing on her heels. “I know you saw that batshit bonkers fight in downtown. That new hero is sooo bomb!”

  Hugo smirked at AJ and Simon. “We were just talking about it,” he commented, guiding Jodie toward the couch. “Want some food?”

  Chapter 57

  The next day and a half had been spent sleeping and reconnecting with friends.

  Jordana and he had a long talk during her visit. They hadn’t reunited. Not yet.

  “Let’s play things by ear,” Hugo had suggested, while they'd cuddled in bed.

  Jodie gave him her sexiest smile. “Works for me.”

  Grace, Wale, and the rest of the Fab Phenoms had called, worried when he’d no-showed at their competition. Hugo stuck to his cover story. “I was helping some friends out.”

  No word from Brie or J-Tom. Hugo wasn’t surprised.

  Ms. Ortiz had wisely stayed away. As had Zelda. Hugo had no idea how to approach his new half-sister.

  Simon had flown back to Seoul to face his parents’ intercontinental wrath. Brent Longwell had been doing a touchdown dance over the phone, texting a dozen images of Tomorrow Man and Aegis side by side. “I was right!” Hugo had to laugh at his friend’s exuberance.

  The Vanguard’s implosion and Paxton-Brandt’s transgressions had dominated headlines. But Hugo’s alter ego topped even those stories. He seriously wanted his bed to swallow him up. The ballooning media attention alone was reason enough to lay low another day.

  Mom took off work to care for Hugo. Staying mad was impossible. She was his only parent left.

  Early next morning, he woke to AJ’s snores across the hall. Outside, the sun barely penetrated the purplish fog. Hugo felt better than he had in days. A self-inspection found a few sore spots and slight bruising across his body.

  Also surprising was finding Jen Thomas curled up in Hugo’s computer chair. She was sound asleep in an off-the-shoulder lavender sweater with gym shorts, wavy red hair unbound.

  Hugo rubbed sleep from his eyes, quite bewildered. He slid to the edge of his bed and prodded J-Tom with his foot until she stirred. “What’s up?”

  Her heavy-eyed confusion became drowsy content. “Bogie.” She unfurled her slim body with an unhurried, catlike stretch. “I came over last night, but you were asleep,” she murmured. “Told your mom I’d watch you while she did her nightshift.”

  The kindness touched Hugo. “Thanks.” Being called Bogie or Bogotá now caused actual disgust, since that was no longer where he’d been conceived. Another lie.

  J-Tom shook her head with such shame. “Sorry I haven’t called.” Guilt laced every word. “I’ve been a mess after what happened with Spence. Then you almost get yourself killed.” J-Tom gestured at Hugo like he was an irresponsible relative.

  He snorted. “Wasn’t intentional.”

  “Just know…” J-Tom looked at him from under her eyelashes. “I will always protect you.”

  Hugo gulped. Right...that. His distrust faded, but not entirely. “Thanks.”

  J-Tom hunched her shoulders, growing all shy. “I know Spencer’s awful.” Her voice wavered. “So why do I still love her?”

  The anguished question shook Hugo’s own conflict loose. “Join the club.” Eager to ignore his own pain, he spread his arms to her.

  J-Tom slid off the chair and climbed onto his lap. Her softness and thrumming heartbeat were welcome sensations. She buried her face in his neck and just bawled. Hugo cradled her grief, whispering condolences.

  They talked for hours, laying pleasantly entwined in bed. The topics ranged from everyday stuff to the truth about last Halloween. When the morning sun finally emerged, J-Tom had dozed off in his arms.

  Hugo didn’t want to leave her comforts. But two days inside had him bouncing off walls.

  After tucking J-Tom in, he snatched some clothes and running shoes before slipping out of his room.

  But first, Hugo’s grumbling stomach demanded breakfast.

  He’d devoured scrambled eggs and cereal by the time Mom arrived home from work.

  “Morning,” he greeted, washing his dishes.

  “Hey…” Mom placed her bags on the floor outside the kitchen. Tension between them still lingered somewhat.

  She watched him with unnecessary concern. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better.” He placed his washed tableware in the dish rack.

  “Is Jennifer still here?” Mom asked.

  A smile formed on his lips unprompted. “Upstairs sleeping.” He dried his hands while facing Mom. “I’m going for a run. Probably be back late.”

  His mother scowled but didn’t object. “Please be careful."

  Hugo nodded, knowing he’d have to be extra wary. He forced himself to address the Titan in the room. “Let’s talk tomorrow?”

  Mom nodded enthusiastically, jostling her frizzy hair. “Of course.”

  Terror gripped Hugo over this looming discussion. But to fully forgive Mom, he had to learn more about his bio dad. Hugo headed for the backdoor. “Love you.”

  Mom smiled big. “Love you, too, Bogota.”

  Hugo balked.

  Mom let out a sympathetic sigh. “It’s still your name, no matter where you were conceived.”

  Hugo didn’t reply, racing out the door in seething silence.

  Paso Robles flew by in colorful streaks, smearing into San Miguel. Hugo relished the silence of a run, winds rushing around him like a cocoon, freedom from restraints. He felt at peace.

  He considered visiting Dad—correction, his legal father—at the cemetery. His stomach lurched. Too much guilt. Hugo ran faster. There was no planned destination yet he kept heading up the coastline.

  Once he blew through California’s northernmost border, an unseen tether around his waist snapped with a rumbling, sonic boom.

  When he crossed the US/Canada border even faster, Hugo noticed the tug in the back of his skull, guiding him through the Yukon’s rocky backdrop.

  After three straight hours, he reached northern Alaska. Powdery snow stretched on for miles. Steel-grey skies showered flurries everywhere. Hugo braked and exhaled, his breaths fogging up in clouds. Gooseflesh prickled his skin from the wind chill, despite his cold resilience. The energy blanketing the air was tangible enough to taste. He gaz
ed at the silent, snowy landscape, confused why he'd been drawn here. Also strange were the stone barricades he’d leaped over to enter this area at Alaska’s northern arm. He then spotted a stone memorial in the endless white expanse.

  Hugo gulped in recognition. “Titan’s birthplace.” This location's history walloped Hugo across the face. An Alaskan Indigenous tribe had lived here until a rogue Soviet nation’s nuke wiped them out. The lone survivor had been infused with astonishing powers. But at an unbearable cost.

  It wowed Hugo realizing that Titan had been only two years older than he was now before losing his whole world, then becoming the world’s greatest hero. His old life ended where his new life began.

  Hugo had to see more, approaching the memorial with urgent strides. The snow dipped noticeably at ground zero where the bomb struck due to lingering radiation. The snow never piled too high.

  Hugo once considered himself fully Samoan. Now there was a piece of his family, his life, that he’d never truly know. Sudden, hot grief filled him. Fighting for composure, he lowered to one knee. Curiosity about this place blossomed. He wanted to know more, pressing one hand to the snow and focusing.

  Nothing happened. He gave his full attention to his psychometry, muscles straining from the effort.

  Within minutes, makeshift homes littered the snowy terrain. Gaggles of ruddy-skinned Natives bundled in furs trudged through a small village. A glimpse back in time.

  Laughter burst out of Hugo. “It worked!” He saw ghosts of a hardworking people, carrying animals they killed for food and trade. Their language was lost on him. A young family in the crowd drew Hugo’s eye, led by a strapping young man with long black hair and roughhewn features. He and a slim, copper-skinned woman beside him were gazing at each other. Two small kids flanked them, chubby-cheeked and bundled up, chattering nonstop.

  Titan before getting powers, and his family…Hugo’s siblings. Hollowness at what Titan had lost and what he’d lost in relation nearly overwhelmed him.

  The images shifted into chaos. Natives ran every which way, screaming or pointing to the skies.

  Hugo gaped. The day the nuke had hit.

  Young Titan scrambled through the bedlam, searching for someone. Crying. He shoved through the chaotic masses and embraced one of his small sons fiercely. Titan looked around for safe harbor, resignation dawning on his face. He’d known this was the end. Whispering to calm his child, Titan shielded him with his body.

  Hugo couldn’t watch, yanking his hand from the snow and standing to end the psychometric vision.

  It continued. “What the hell?” Hugo fumed.

  White radiance washed Titan, his son, and the entire village away. Hugo cried out, shielding his face. When it faded, he lowered his arm, praying to see only powder. Hugo found a man on his knees, hair and clothes burnt to cinders. His child’s ashes were scattered by gusts. Ashes of neighbors, friends, and family surrounded Titan.

  He threw his head back, his animalistic roar echoing across the plains.

  Hugo covered his ears, unable to stand it. Titan rose slowly, eyes glowing with power...and impossible hatred.

  Titan’s ghost crouched low, then rocketed up. Within seconds, he’d disappeared.

  Hugo blinked away tears. The loss must have been unthinkable. He looked back down and jumped back in fright.

  Titan stood in front of him. Not the grief-stricken youth, but the veteran superhero that Hugo had known. A chiseled, towering man dressed in the famous green-and-yellow costume, white hair in a Cesar haircut. The Almighty Titan.

  Hugo now questioned his sanity, and why Titan seemed…shorter? Father and son now stood eye to eye. Hugo facepalmed, realizing he’d grown several inches and put on fifty pounds of muscle. Titan’s not shorter. I’m bigger. No heartbeat or breath sounds, meaning this was no clone. Hugo stepped back. Was this another phantom?

  “Hey, Hugo.” Titan greeted in iron tones.

  Hugo readied himself in case the impostor attacked. “How am I seeing you?”

  Titan’s blocky features warmed. “The same way you’ve seen me until the day I died….” He glanced down. “I guess our psychic link left part of me with you.”

  Hugo remembered then his dreams of Titan and why they’d always felt so real. “Those weren’t dreams.”

  Titan shook his head. “It was how I got to know you.” His voice grew thick and sad.

  Hugo thought Titan never cared, but the superhero had always been there. His head swam. “I met you in person like seven times. How…?” Given that Hugo’s psychometric powers needed physical contact, this didn’t make sense.

  “Remember when we first met?” Titan asked, with a nostalgic grin. “You were almost four?”

  Hugo smiled fondly. “My first memory…” His family had been visiting Santorini. He’d chased a stray dog into a crowd swarming Titan after he’d rescued a sinking cruise ship. Titan placing a hand on his shoulder had been an electric jolt. He’d always thought that had just been excitement. Hugo felt so confused. “Can I do that, too?”

  Titan nodded. “Eventually.”

  Like flying. Hugo sighed, going straight to the largest question. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Anguish spasmed across Titan’s face. “That wouldn’t have been fair to your mother. Or father.” He strode closer. “We still spent time together. And I’m glad you survived and truly came into your own.”

  “You were there.” Hugo had tried burying his attempted suicide a year ago, feeling only crippling shame when the memory resurfaced.

  Titan watched him with such sadness. “I sensed you dying through our connection and gave you a push, no matter the cost.”

  Hugo stared back, hearing but not believing. “You could’ve survived Morningstar’s attack and you sacrificed that for me?” Hugo felt sick, sorrowful. No—Hugo was furious. “Why?”

  Titan looked unmoved. “You’re my son,” he answered, calm and matter-of-fact. “I’d done enough living…to my detriment. And my family…our family was waiting.”

  Hugo’s tears flowed. The world needed Titan more.

  Titan reached out with a brick-sized hand, clasping Hugo by the back of his neck like any father would their son. “You have so much life left, Hugo. And with what you’ve already accomplished.”

  “Compared to you?” Hugo sniffled. His heart ached so much.

  Titan chuckled. “When you fought The Elite, you stood in your fear. You stood in your doubts. You stood against overwhelming odds. And you never faltered.” He looked so proud, gutting Hugo further. “That is the definition of a hero. Being the light raging against the dark. To represent hope, protect the innocent. You can succeed where I failed.”

  Hugo gaped. “Me?” That responsibility seemed too large.

  Tears spilled down Titan’s face, too. “You.” He pulled Hugo close so their foreheads touched.

  Hugo felt a current hum between them, heady and gushing.

  “That battle in San Miguel was the moment your life changed forever.” Titan’s words held a trace of warning. He clasped Hugo’s tear-stained face in his hands. “Keep pushing your limits. Choose trustworthy allies. Stay vigilant. And give those you protect hope.” Titan kissed Hugo’s forehead, and Hugo broke. “This world is going to need you, son,” Titan declared. “Far more than it needed me.” His fingers left Hugo’s face.

  He opened his eyes.

  Titan was gone. No footsteps or flight trail, as if he’d never been there.

  “Father?” Hugo choked out. Only wailing winds answered. Somehow, he swallowed the grief. How many people were allowed one last moment with his biological father?

  Sunlight cracked through the clouds, spilling onto the snowy terrain. Hugo stared above, pondering…

  Push your limits, Titan had said.

  He crouched low, gathering his strength within. Soon, energy built beneath his feet, the snow trembling.

  He exploded off the ground, rising rapidly. Hugo had leaped before, felt like he’d been flying.


  This was different. Hugo was weightless, his legs like jet engines. The teen knew he could go higher. Exhilaration beyond anything he could describe blossomed. He looked down as Alaska shrank beneath him, then vanished behind feathery clouds. He grinned nonstop. “I’m flying!” He hung a left, sharper than intended.

  Hugo was a human torpedo tearing across fluffy clouds, a sonic boom rupturing behind him. I can go faster. He pushed forward with a kick of velocity. The air scorched in his wake.

  He zoomed above the clouds for an hour or more, adjusting to flying—flying—mastering subtler turns. Less was more.

  When he dove from the skies, Hugo stuck to rural Canada, away from larger cities. Sometimes he’d skim close to the earth, watching his shadow with its arms thrown back. He juked and soared over turquoise lakes, windy rivers, vast forests, and jagged peaks.

  Everything rushed by so fast, an overload of smells and sounds and sights. Sunlight bathed his skin, winds ruffling his hair. “Running is ruined for me!” he decided.

  Later, Hugo traveled to California in less time than running. Beneath him, San Miguel’s urban sprawl married Paso Robles’s lush spread of vineyards, joined to Arroyo Grande on the coastline. Beyond that was endless rippling blue. The buildings were toy-sized, the people barely visible, even with 140/20 eyesight. “My city…” Hugo whispered.

  He plunged from the heavens, gaining speed. Hugo pulled up at the last second, high above and far from sight. He couldn’t completely lose himself out of costume.

  Hugo blasted past the coastline into a twisting spiral with arms spread, eyes closed. The rush, the weightlessness, the speed took Hugo somewhere near the edge of glory. His spirit was at peace, every atom crackling with power.

  Opening his eyes, he stopped spinning and tore across the ocean, leaving a long trail of foamy waves.

  Hugo eventually reached Año Nuevo Island, an abandoned islet off Santa Clara's coastline in Northern California. Better to practice touching down where only sea lions could watch. Hugo’s landing ended with him tripping over his own feet, unable to slow his momentum. “That needs work,” he grumbled, face pressed on damp concrete. He pushed up and looked around.