by C. C. Ekeke
His suspicions paid off. The tank-sized vehicle swerved, careening into the alleyway. Hugo waited until they were a hundred feet away, then seventy.
At fifty yards, Hugo stepped in front of the oncoming car.
The passengers’ shock was immediate. “Where did this freak come from? Stop!”
“Cops are on us.” The driver stomped on the throttle. "Run him over!"
The armored car roared straight for Hugo. He crouched slightly, bracing himself shoulder first.
The car struck with jarring force, shredding before Hugo’s unyielding body in sound and fury. He barely kept upright amid showering sparks, engine fluids, and screeching metal. Titan always made this look easy.
When the armored car finally slowed, Hugo had been pushed several feet down the alleyway. He shoved the car off with a grunt. His costume, doused in coolant and somewhat singed, remained intact. A quick facial check confirmed the mask stayed on. Great! Hugo looked up at the driver slumped over the wheel, alive but with worms of red seeping from his hair. One down.
Hugo rushed to the vehicle’s side. Three other robbers already stumbled out, dazed under their ski masks, hoisting automatic rifles. Hugo zoomed forward before they even saw him. A flurry of fists sent two flying. They hit the ground, unconscious. Hugo whirled on the third robber and ate a jab to the mouth.
Suddenly, Hugo was on his back, holding a smarting jaw. That hurt.
The final hulking thief loomed over him imperiously, silhouetted by pink morning skies.
A super with enhanced strength, Hugo decided, rubbing his jaw. The massive robber reached down to grab Hugo. The Samoan dashed out of reach. An instant later, he stood behind the bewildered robber.
The blaring police sirens drew closer, about to reach the alleyway. Time to end this.
“Apologies,” Hugo stated in a deep Barry White bass. “Forgot to introduce myself.”
The massive robber whipped about with a swinging backhand. Hugo ducked, answering with a leaping uppercut. The thief’s jaw clacked shut as he left his feet with two three-sixty spins. He faceplanted hard on the concrete.
Hugo figured that strike was enough, until the thief shook his head and slowly climbed back up.
Hugo’s eyes widened. A tough bastard. Blaring sirens almost reached the alley.
He aimed a spinning sidekick at his foe with more power behind it. The robber's body folded up, driven back into the brick wall, leaving a cracked depression. He sagged to the ground, not moving.
“Ha!” Hugo fist-pumped. Baddies stopped with no casualties or damage. And his costume stayed on. “Winning!”
Police racing toward the armored vehicle jarred Hugo from his celebration. Don’t get caught, he reminded himself. Hugo would let the police deal with the thieves and raced in the other direction. With superhearing, he sensed the police converging from opposing ends to block the car.
Hugo banked left to avoid the chokepoint. Straight ahead opened to a side street. Traffic was nonexistent, making the street ideal for Hugo to head home.
He raced forward, right as a purple Prius drove into his path.
Hugo braked hard, dust clouds flying up behind him. He swallowed his annoyance and moved to sidestep the car when the driver emerged.
Hugo gaped under his mask. The tall, slender figure, the hippy-dippy green dress. The huge red-tinted shades and long hair pulled in two braids spilling down bare shoulders.
Betty Ortiz, Mom’s friend. She gaped as if never seeing a superhero before, which was doubtful in San Miguel.
“Ms.—” Hugo cringed, putting on his Barry White voice. “Miss. Return to your car.”
“Hugo,” Ms. Ortiz announced quietly. “What are you doing?”
Hugo’s stomach lurched. “What…” He kept the Barry White voice. “Who is Hugo—”
“Please, young man.” Ms. Ortiz folded her arms with confidence. “I know that orange aura anywhere.”
Hugo had no comeback. “Shit,” he swore in normal tones. “How did you find me?”
“I saw you leave your house in that ridiculous getup,” Ms. Ortiz stated, smiling. “So I followed your aura’s trajectory and your journey's intentions.”
Hugo stared at her. “Of course you did.” This woman was the epitome of weird. Before Hugo could say more, he spotted a few bystanders watching. Out here was too exposed.
Ms. Ortiz clearly grasped his concerns. “Get in.” She gestured to the passenger door. “Before San Miguel PD sees us.” She slid back into her seat.
Hugo’s gut told him to run. But Ms. Ortiz could seriously monkey-wrench his plans. What if she ratted him out to the police…or OSA? Trapped, Hugo entered the car and his neighbor drove off.
Neither of them said anything during the drive back to Paso Robles. Hugo’s mind churned with how to explain. All he could manage was removing his mask and firefighter hood. Other drivers might notice.
They parked behind some promenade of stores before Ms. Ortiz spoke. “I knew something was different,” she exclaimed, way too excited about it. “Since we saw you at Morro Bay after your growth spurt!”
Hugo forced a smile he didn’t feel. Better that than freaking out. “You did seem shocked.” He looked around the lot they’d parked in. Concern crept up his spine. “Where are we?”
Ms. Ortiz opened her door. “One of my stores.” She exited and slammed the door shut.
Hugo pushed open his door, watching her in disbelief. “You own a store?” Not to be rude, but Ms. Ortiz with her airy-fairy attitude didn’t seem to have the attention span to run a lemonade stand.
She smiled, strolling toward the back of a small, weathered white building. “Co-own,” she corrected blithely and gestured forward. Ms. Ortiz opened the door with fingerprint access.
Hugo followed her into a small lobby, then an elevator. What the hell was he entering?
As they descended, she studied his costume with a curled lip. Her designer awareness was clearly offended. “Does your mother know?”
Hugo nodded. “Yes.” The elevator stopped three levels underground. He stepped out into a vast and pitch-black space with several rooms.
Ms. Ortiz led the way without needing lights. Hugo could see better than normal humans in darkness. But all the room doors were closed. Concern became icy fear. What kind of store is this? Hugo kept walking regardless.
They entered an office, and Ms. Ortiz flicked on the lights, revealing many framed pictures from various global locales. A giant sketchpad on one end of the room had fresh white paper for use.
Sitting at a round table, Ms. Ortiz signaled Hugo to follow suit. He did so, fighting the panic threatening to erupt.
“So.” She reclined in her seat, loose and relaxed yet in charge. Ms. Ortiz smiled while tossing back her braids. “You’re a super and one of the good guys. Yay!” Her smile dimmed. “How’d this happen?” She gesticulated along his costume.
Hugo sat upright, most of his costume still on. Inspecting himself closer, he felt stupid and scared. His eyes swept over this unfamiliar room, in some unfamiliar underground building. Hugo realized what a colossal mistake coming here was, considering how fast he’d have to run to escape.
Ms. Ortiz reached out, squeezing his hand. Hugo flinched but didn’t pull away.
Her face was affectionate. “What we discuss stays in this room.”
Maybe it was her smile or calming energy. But suddenly, Hugo felt safe, so he told Ms. Ortiz everything. The attempted suicide via Nyquil and the dream about Titan the night of his death. Even what happened at Fall Fling with Baz, DeDamien, and TJ. Ms. Ortiz’s eyes widened at certain parts. But for most of the story, she remained stone-faced and silent.
Hugo finished an hour later, wiped but relieved. Revealing everything felt…what was the word…cathartic.
“Lord in Heaven,” Ms. Ortiz shrilled, leaning over the table to inspect him more thoroughly. “Titan gave you his powers through a near-death dreamtime experience?”
Hugo grimaced at her interpretation. “I
t sounds less crazy in my head. And Mom can’t know about the near-death part,” he stated with an edge of warning.
Ms. Ortiz nodded in understanding. “Besides your mom and AJ, who else knows about you?”
Hugo leaned back, pondering the question. “My friend Simon. That reporter Quinn Bauer. My ex, Presley. Ramon Dempsey, aka Dynamo. Geist and Longshadow.”
Ms. Ortiz shook her head. “Geist? My mind’s still blown by that.”
“Yeah. Not an urban myth.” Hugo forgot that most people didn’t know Geist was real. Another name came to mind, worrying him anew. “Oh, and Lady Liberty, who hates me.”
“Huh.” Ms. Ortiz scratched at her forearms, her face a blank and pretty mask. “Is Bauer reliable?”
Hugo nodded. “She could’ve exposed me already.” Hugo should’ve been more worried about Quinn. Still, he trusted her. “So far, she hasn’t.”
Ms. Ortiz’s expression resembled that of a lecturing mother.
Hugo walled up, knowing where this would head. “Please save the speech about how dangerous being a hero is. I’m not stopping.”
That surprised Ms. Ortiz. “And here I had a good speech ready.” Her expression behind those massive sunglasses sobered. “Answer this, then. What’s your motivation to fight the good fight in this…” She gesticulated in aversion at his costume. “…inspired’ outfit?”
Hugo chewed on this. “At first, I wanted to be like Titan. He was my role model.” That would’ve been his answer a few months ago. “Then we learned who Titan really was.”
Ms. Ortiz looked away with a startlingly disheartened sigh. “Yeah.”
“For a while, I was afraid, angry. I did nothing,” Hugo continued, wondering how many lives his inaction had cost. The shame burned in his throat. “But Titan gave me his powers for a reason. If bad shit happens…and I still do nothing? That’s my fault.”
Ms. Ortiz studied him with sudden intensity, trying to decode something. “You really wanna be a hero?”
Hugo shrugged. Fame and applause meant nothing to him. “I wanna keep San Miguel safe.”
Ms. Ortiz grinned, clutching his hand again. “Then I’m going to help you.”
Hugo made a face, confused. “How?”
Ms. Ortiz stood and pulled Hugo up. “Come hither!”
She led him into one of the locked doors and flicked on the lights. A sizeable warehouse filled with human-shaped mannequins in display cases wearing outlandish outfits.
Hugo’s jaw dropped. Superhero costumes. “Holy shit!” He turned to Ms. Ortiz with new eyes. “You co-own a superhero costume shop?”
She nodded, beaming. “We’ve got one shop in San Miguel, another in Boston.” She gestured sweepingly across the warehouse. “I create some designs, but we have other folks who put the costumes together.”
Hugo barely heard her, ogling over display cases of costumes he recognized and those he didn’t. His stare landed on a crimson costume with a silver belt and boots with a flowing white cape, filled out by a brawny mannequin. “Good lord,” Hugo gushed, clapping. “Titan’s first costume. You knew him?”
“Yeah.” Ms. Ortiz strolled up, hands in her pockets. “We have history.”
Hugo turned to another costume, dark-grey with strange filaments spilling down its sides. “Papa Voodoo,” he howled. “His costume’s so bomb!” The display cases of recognizable costumes went on and on. Most that Hugo didn’t recognize were either unused or rejected.
“Glad you appreciate the displays,” Ms. Ortiz said contently.
Hugo couldn’t believe how amazing this day turned out…until a truth gut-punched him.
Ms. Ortiz wanted to design him a new costume. But Hugo had spent this month’s allowance on his current one. He faced her, cheeks burning in embarrassment. “I probably can’t afford you.”
Ms. Ortiz threw her head back and laughed. “For a family friend? On the house.” She circled him, inspecting his costume again as if smelling spoiled milk. “Especially since you, young man, need a top-to-bottom overhaul.”
That knocked the wind out of Hugo. “Thank you so much!”
Ms. Ortiz clapped, bobbing her head in that hippy-dippy rhythm of hers. “Gladly! One more thing is needed to align the energies of this professional union!” She turned and skipped out the doors.
“Okay.” Hugo watched her go, bemused and amused. Ms. Ortiz and Grace had to meet one day. They'd probably have a full conversation with only weird facial expressions.
Hugo’s gaze landed on another display, blue and simple, with whirlwinds etched into the design and a mask covering the face. Profound sadness touched Hugo. “Hurricane…”
With all the Morningstar news, Hurricane’s death had barely registered. The last of the Midwest Miracles, killed by two protégés. Hugo turned away from the display. “What a crappy way to die—”
A sharp gust blew in from behind, startling Hugo.
He turned and nearly had a heart attack. His gaze traveled up a pair of golden boots to the tanned and toned legs wearing them, then a figure-hugging red outfit. He finally looked on the face of a goddess. The silvery diadem atop her brunette bob twinkled under the warehouse lights.
Lady Liberty.
In this costume shop.
Floating a few feet away as if standing on invisible ground.
“Motherfuck!” Hugo cried. “Ms. Ortiz screwed me!” Furious, he zoomed for the entrance.
Lady Liberty touched down in front of the door, blocking Hugo from freedom. “Hold on,” she cautioned, hand raised like a traffic cop.
Hugo backpedaled several feet. Fear ruled him utterly as memories of their last encounter filled his mind. There was nowhere to run. Life flashed before Hugo’s eyes. That enraged him. “Wanna stop me from being a hero?” he barked, curling both fists. “You’ll have to kill me—”
“Hugo!” Lady Liberty shouted, sounding nothing like Lady Liberty. “It’s Betty.”
Hugo heard, but his brain couldn't process. Lady Liberty sounded like Ms. Ortiz. “No, you’re not.”
“I am.” She smiled exactly like Ms. Ortiz. “I’m also Lady Liberty.”
Hugo’s brain broke into a thousand pieces. “Yeahbutwhaaaa?"
Lady Liberty slowly approached. “Geist told me how you handled yourself with Morningstar. He was dangerously close to impressed.”
Hugo was slack-jawed, unable to compute this new reality.
“My neighbor designs superhero costumes, and is Lady Liberty?” He blushed at an onslaught of memories when he and Simon gushed over Lady Liberty’s amazing legs—which Hugo wasn’t sneaking a peek at. No wonder Ms. Ortiz wore the baggy dresses and tinted sunglasses, to cover that Amazonian body and face. The long hair had to be a wig. Hugo shook his head, struggling to regain his bearings. He then considered Lady Liberty’s brief retirement. Probably when she got pregnant with Zelda…
“Wait!” Their first encounter came to mind, angering Hugo. “You punched me! In my face!”
Lady Liberty was unapologetic. “You caused a lot of collateral damage that night. I didn’t know if you could be trusted.”
Hugo kept backpedaling as she approached, his mind a mess. Lady Liberty kept speaking with Ms. Ortiz’s voice. Because she was Ms. Ortiz. What a mindfuck!
“After talking to Geist and seeing the footage of the Dynamo armor, I know you’re one of the good guys.”
The mention of Dynamo recording their fight gave Hugo pause. “Then…the Vanguard knows about me?” A greater fear seized him.
“You’re safe.” Lady Liberty grasped his shoulder.
Hugo tried jerking away. She held him in place, barely exerting herself.
The superhero waited until he stopped squirming. “Ramon erased those recordings from the armor and any backups at the Vanguard’s HQ.” Her fingers slid up to cup Hugo’s cheek affectionately. “They only have claims from Morningstar seeing Titan reborn.”
Hugo’s breath caught. “Is Ramon okay?”
“Physically, yes.” Lady Liberty sighed. Her hand
dropped to her side. “But after Morningstar's treachery…” She looked so sad. “I’m not sure when he’ll put on the Dynamo armor again.”
Standing this close, Hugo noticed he stood three inches taller than Lady Liberty. But her presence towered over him. It baffled Hugo how he’d never detected her identity after gaining his hypersensitivity powers. Looking now, he noted the near-six-foot height as the one likeness between Lady Liberty and his weird hippy-dippy neighbor. Speaking of neighbors… “That’s why you and Zelda kept coming over for dinners? To spy on me.”
“I like your mom,” Lady Liberty admitted with a smile. “But, yeah, I wanted to keep a closer eye on you so Geist wouldn’t try something drastic.”
Those words chilled Hugo. There had to be a reason the world’s most famous superhero revealed her identity to him.
“What do you want?” Hugo meant to sound collected. But this barrage of revelations left him weary and afraid.
“With you,” Lady Liberty gave him a beaming onceover, “I see unlimited potential…and a long way to go.”
Hugo frowned at the assessment. “Not that long…”
“You were throwing haymakers I saw coming from Alabama in that Dynamo fight," Lady Liberty interrupted. “Luckily, I have plenty to teach.”
Hugo stared back, waiting for the punchline. “You’re offering to train me. Be the Kenobi to my Skywalker.”
“If you mean Luke and not Anakin, then yes.” Lady Liberty held out her hand. “Interested?”
Does a bear shit in the woods? Simon would’ve answered. Hugo chuckled, knowing that was improper.
He shook Lady Liberty’s hand enthusiastically. “When do we start?”
Hugo, Quinn and Greyson will return in GENERATION NEXT,
coming in May 2019
Read on for a special note from the author.
Author Notes
My original plan was for Age of Heroes and Monsters Among Men to be one book. But when I was laying out the story to a co-worker, she looks at me incredulously and says, “That’s a lot to put in one book!” Boy am I glad I listened to her and split the story into two books. It would have been a beast!