The Pantheon Saga | Book 5 | Absolute Power

by Ekeke, C. C.

  A knee to V3’s face stood him straight up, eyes crossed.

  Hugo reveled in his supremacy, savored it. A hard uppercut sent V3 skidding to the roof’s edge.

  “Fine.” V3 wiped his bloody nose and raised both hands. “I give up.”

  Hugo’s mouth and sternum were on fire, thanks to V3’s earlier assault. “Don’t care.” He moved, everything slowing to a crawl.

  His first charge cracked V3 across the face. Hugo boomeranged back around, images of V3’s victims filling his thoughts. Hugo rocketed ahead, cocking his fist back, driving it into V3’s spine.

  The snap sounded like a breaking bough, echoing across the roof.

  The strength went out of Vincent Van Violence with an inhuman scream. His legs turned to spaghetti beneath him.

  Hugo caught him by the scruff of the neck and floated over San Miguel’s veins of traffic.

  Looking down with telescopic vision, Hugo found the right spot.

  “Aegis,” he whispered in a hyperventilating V3’s ear. “Remember it.” Then Hugo let go.

  V3’s massive blue frame fell several stories, pancaking a vacant SUV parked beside this building.

  Hugo floated down to see V3 motionless atop a flattened vehicle. Bystanders murmured and pointed. Many applauded. More looked afraid.

  Fingers of dread seized Hugo’s chest as he stared at his handiwork. A moment of unchecked anger had caused this.

  Not knowing what to do, Hugo waited in mid-air over V3’s motionless body as several SMPD officers approached. More sirens neared Grant Square.

  Once V3 was cuffed, Hugo soared back to the tavern.

  He found Beale, Dawson, and their team escorting The Ukrainian Brotherhood out in handcuffs. Nearby, Tomorrow Man struggled to stand on wobbly legs.

  This is ALL his fault. Hugo had a visceral reaction, anger taking over again. He marched straight toward Tomorrow Man.

  “Hey, motherfucker!” Hugo backhanded him as hard as possible, launching him into the stratosphere.

  Hugo rocketed up at top speeds.

  Now several miles above San Miguel, he stopped and waited.

  Tomorrow Man’s somersaulting frame almost came sailing past seconds later.

  Hugo caught his cape just in time and dangled him in front so they were face-to-face.

  “Four civilians died because of you,” Hugo snarled. “Sandbag me again, and I will beat your ass so hard, your grandkids will feel it.”

  He started spinning Tomorrow Man round and round by the cape, becoming a cyclone of motion.

  Then Hugo flung him across the city. The caped hero shrank over the horizon, losing momentum before dropping into the sea.

  Now Hugo felt better, despite the sore jaw.

  Chapter 20

  “Wow!” Greyson remarked, sitting at a long oval table with Reverb, Brightburn, and Shattershot. They were in the Natural Born Thrillers’ Situation Room where the team held meetings and briefings.

  But his bemusement and his teammates’ wonder came from the large flatscreen broadcasting N3 with breaking news out of San Miguel.

  SHIELD OF VIOLENCE? The news chyron displayed in big bold letters.

  Reverb was wide-eyed and breathless. “Aegis kicked Vincent Van Violence’s ass like it was his job.”

  Shattershot side-eyed him and chuckled. “Kinda is his job.”

  Those two kept gushing over Aegis like fanboys. Meanwhile, Brightburn snapped a “surprised” selfie.

  Greyson sat hunched and stewing at the hooded superhero in purple floating in the sky ominously.

  In the news replay of the fight, Vincent Van Violence had the early upper hand, pummeling Aegis down. Then Aegis’s flurry of brutal, surgical strikes dropped the larger V3 to his knees. The fight should’ve ended there. But Aegis had bookmarked the beatdown with a spine-shattering punch.

  Greyson’s concerns had come true. The so-called Shield of Justice had shown his true colors.

  Like when Aegis had sliced off Athena’s forearms months ago. What was next? Judge, Jury, and Executioner?

  Greyson spun in his seat to face Aegis’s new fan club. “Aegis broke a man’s back.” His declaration silenced the room. “Are we supposed to be okay with that?”

  Brightburn finally stopped preening for selfies to answer. “No. But V3’s a murderer who’s had it coming for years.”

  “Then,” Shattershot chimed in, grinning like an idiot, “Aegis chucked Tomorrow Man into the ocean, while the guy was livestreaming.” The empath howled with laughter.

  Greyson shook his head. They were too enamored with Aegis’s badassery to see straight.

  Reverb drummed his hands on the table. “Polls on the San Miguel Tribune say most people felt he went too far. And San Miguel’s police is distancing themselves from his actions.”

  This was the perfect time to attack Aegis physically, and force San Miguel’s populace to take a hard look at their chosen one. But since he’d been ordered to stay away from Aegis, Greyson would do that for these Natural Born Thrillers.

  “What’s your problem with Aegis, Levi?” The question drew all eyes to the entrance.

  Bulldozer took up the entire doorframe, his bronze-metal skin gleaming under the overhead lights.

  Greyson met his glare unflinchingly. “I don’t agree with his use of ultraviolence.”

  Bulldozer stepped into the room, eyes never shifting from his prey. “Then how would you have stopped V3 if he’d escaped prison yet again?”

  Greyson knew many ways to stop degenerates like Vincent Van Violence. All which would make me a big hypocrite. He kept his mouth shut.

  Bulldozer gave a smug nod. “The world isn’t black and white, newbie. You’ll learn that if you make the cut.” Those last words had an ominous edge. The room hushed, tension mounting.

  “Everyone, sit.” Erika Skye’s entrance broke the tension. She scanned the room. “First, it was great seeing V3 finally get what he deserved. But that isn’t how we’ll regain public trust in Shenandoah.”

  “Good to know,” Greyson said. It was a shame he couldn’t let that happen. But his task wasn’t personal. “Second.” Erika Skye paced slowly. Her gaze landed on Greyson. “Levi survived his first full week as a trainee. Now it’s time to christen him.”

  Greyson’s cheeks burned as he grasped her gist. A codename. “In my case, don’t you mean ablution?”

  “Your codename,” Erika announced over the room’s laughter, “is Hazard.”

  Reverb and Shattershot stood and clapped. Brightburn, Erika, and even Bulldozer offered their congratulations. Greyson rose from his seat. “Thank you for this opportunity.” To destroy your team.

  A claxon broke up the adulation, startling the shit out of Greyson. The mood in the situation room immediately shifted. The Natural Born Thrillers put their game faces on.

  Greyson stared at them, lost. “What’s that?”

  Reverb offered a grim smile. “Code black. A superhuman attack in progress.”

  Erika Skye walked with purpose to a black console near the TV. “I’ll contact our Shenandoah Police dispatch.” After speed-dialing a number, Erika got in a low and terse dialog Greyson couldn’t make out.

  “Situation in Crayton Heights,” Erika announced after finishing. “Protests between supers and Pax Humana over new city anti-super laws. All hands on deck.”

  Greyson made no attempt to mask his glee. “Am I coming too?”

  Erika nodded as the team marched out of the conference room. “You’ll ride along but watch only.”

  That cooled much of Greyson’s enthusiasm. “Whatever you need.” He scurried after her.

  The team had no fliers (that they knew of), so everyone hopped into a repurposed SUV. Reaching Crayton Heights took ten minutes, Greyson holding on for dear life thanks to Brightburn’s wild driving.

  They parked in an alleyway within walking distance of the gathering. One side had all normal-looking people, many wielding guns. Some brandished the Pax Humana logo. The other side had more normies,
some with claws or glowing fists. A few levitated off the ground. Both sides were snarling at each other. No blows were exchanged yet, thanks to the police presence.

  “We’ll wait.” Erika adjusted her costume. “Getting involved right now might make it worse.”

  Greyson watched, salivating for things to worsen. He focused on one human protester’s handgun, invisible fingers feeling its weight and body.

  Greyson lowered his hand and flicked his fingers. The gun got ripped from that man’s hand, smacking a super’s face. His comrades took umbrage. In seconds, both sides charged before the police could react.

  Erika Skye swore and threw the car door open. “We’ll have drones and bodycams connected to the car’s monitors,” she called out over her shoulder. “Keep an eye out!”

  “Okeydokey,” Greyson replied.

  “Okeydokey?” Bulldozer mocked.

  “Stop,” Reverb chided.

  Shattershot hung back, looking guilty. “I’m sorry for how far I went the first day of training,” he confessed. “Dozer wanted me to make you admit any embarrassing secrets.”

  Greyson felt cold from head to heel. “Thanks for owning up.” Clearly Bulldozer was a problem that needed solving before Greyson moved against the team.

  “Shattershot!” Erika called, prompting the empath to slam the door, leaving Greyson alone.

  The Natural Born Thrillers converged on the large-scale brawl. Bulldozer clapped, the shockwave from his metallic hands walloping the crowd. Many of them stopped and stared. From the bodycams, Greyson saw humans and supers alike already bloodied and injured.

  “Stop or get stopped,” Bulldozer boomed. Yet hostilities restarted in a violent clash of humanity.

  “I love when they don’t stand down,” Reverb admitted, rubbing his hands.

  On Reverb’s bodycam, Erika wielded hot knives on each finger. “Y’all know what to do.”

  Greyson marveled at how quick and efficient the Natural Born Thrillers were. Within minutes, Shattershot pacified portions of the crowd. Reverb bounced and pounded the more aggressive supers. Erika Skye’s hot knives streaked through the crowd, impaling several humans and stunning them. Bulldozer was a wall of iron, Pax Humana protesters emptying their guns on him. He smiled while tossing them like lawn darts.

  Brightburn contained the nastiest superhuman protesters in a crackling cage of bluish electricity. She lifted both hands, elevating them off the ground. “Got these suckers.” Besides a few stragglers, the situation was safely defused.

  “Crowds are contained,” Shattershot declared, one hand on the side of his head as many protesters walked away indifferently.

  Only then did Erika Skye allow herself a big smile. “All too easy.”

  Bulldozer was in a brawl with the last defiant protester, a mammoth of a man almost as tall as he was. But Bulldozer had peppered him with vicious body shots, leaving the other man on spaghetti legs.

  Greyson flashed on a fateful night during his Heroes Anonymous tenure and saw his opening.

  “Say goodnight, punk.” Bulldozer cocked his sledgehammer-like fist back and swung.

  A sneer played across Greyson’s lips. “Goodnight, punk.” With a thought, he tethered the gravity of Bulldozer’s fist to his opponent’s face.

  In the distance, the blow struck like a sonic boom. The mammoth man sailed into Brightburn’s floating electricity cage.

  Jolts of lightning sizzled the big man and shattered the cage before he and the four prisoners got flung through a glass building.

  Glittering shards blew outward, showering bystanders.

  Screams erupted. Formerly docile crowds dashed for cover. Confusion swept the square.

  Uniformed police officers present scrambled toward the injured, barking into their radio devices.

  Greyson watched the car monitors greedily to see Reverb’s bodycam. Erika looked on in horror. Bulldozer staggered away, seeing but not believing.

  Brightburn covered her frightened mouth. “OHMIGOD!”

  But Erika snapped out of it and took charge. “Bulldozer. Reverb. Help survivors.” She whirled to Shattershot. “Calm and evacuate.”

  “Already trying,” the empath shouted over the chaos, teeth clenched. “It’s a lot.”

  Greyson switched to Shattershot’s bodycam as Erika turned, braids tossed over one shoulder. “Brightburn—”

  “I’ll call emergency responders,” her teammate finished, already on her cell.

  Erika nodded in approval and then turned toward the accident. “I’ll get to the sixth floor where…Jesus, this looks bad.” She ran out of the frame.

  Greyson leaned back in his seat with satisfaction. “And the chaos begins.”

  Chapter 21

  “I’m not sorry.”

  That had been Hugo’s response to his publicist two days after the news showed him bashing V3’s face in. There was the predictable social media backlash and rebukes from superhero pundits. Hugo had received a stern email from the State Superhero Commission but no official punishment.

  Blur had also weighed in when asked by reporters at a signing event. “Stop clutching your pearls. Someone had to take Vincent Van Violence out.” The speedster then smirked. “But Aegis still sucks.”

  Despite all this and Mom’s scolding, Hugo wasn’t budging.

  “Hugo,” Annie Sherwood replied wearily on the phone. “This looked bad!”

  Hugo shook his head, pacing in the rear parking lot of the Beach Bum Burger near school. “Don’t care,” he spat, defiant. Well, he cared somewhat. J-Tom and Simon supported him after he’d told the full story.

  “You broke Vincent Van Violence’s spine in two places,” his publicist exclaimed to emphasize the gravity of Hugo’s actions. “Then tossed Tomorrow Man into the ocean. This gives people the impression that you’re one bad day from becoming like The Elite.”

  That stopped Hugo in his tracks. “That’s not true.”

  “How would the public know that?”

  Hugo massaged the bridge of his nose. The lingering ache from Vincent Van Violence’s blows throbbed. “V3 killed six people, Annie! Myriad escaped because Tomorrow Man interfered.” Hugo grew heated all over again. What pissed him off more was the corporate-owned news media’s slanted take on his actions, using headlines like ‘Shield of Justice? Or Shield of Violence?’ Fuck them.

  “I get your point…” Hugo let his hand drop, watching the line of cars crawl through Beach Bum Burger’s drive-thru. “But how many times has V3 escaped prison, killing more people? Now he can’t escape.”

  Annie sighed in exasperation. “Personally, I agree with you. But as your PR Goddess, I care that the people you’re protecting can trust you. Then there’s Tomorrow Man.”

  Hugo bristled. “That asshole’s stupidity caused this. Now the world knows it too.”

  Tomorrow Man had been livestreaming yesterday to show himself as a man of action.

  Annie giggled, cracking the tension. “That video cooked him for breakfast.”

  Tomorrow Man’s livestream had showed an unnamed officer tipping him off to the police operation before his arrival, causing V3’s escape. And that had been after. But his attack on Hugo had been labelled by many as a nervous breakdown. The cherry on top was the livestream capturing Hugo curb-stomping Tomorrow Man’s face into the concrete, then tossing him into the sea. Millions had watched the video before Tomorrow Man’s team eventually deleted it. This had shifted public opinion in Aegis’s favor. Even Tomorrow Man’s corporate sponsor, Aethon Management, had to issue a public apology.

  But detractors remained. Anti-superhero firebrand Senator Huntley had called him another Black Wednesday waiting to happen. Fuck him too.

  Annie’s voice drew him back to the present. “I can spin yesterday thanks to V3’s rap sheet and Tomorrow Man’s dumbfuckery,” she stated. “But a pattern of ultraviolence can turn the public on you.”

  Hugo exhaled. Annie was right. A few bad days could ruin a hero’s reputation.

  “Fine,”
Hugo agreed. “I’ll watch my temper.” After the call, an exchange at the back of Beach Bum Burger grabbed his attention.

  Brent, in basketball warmups, cornering a slim and raven-haired girl. Scanning the lot, Hugo spotted an Escalade with other Paso High basketballers hollering. Hugo’s heart sank. Now the scene made sense.

  “I wanna get to know you,” Brent pressed. “Don’t you wanna know me?”

  “No,” the girl remarked uncomfortably, sidestepping him. “I have to go.”

  He blocked her path, still encroaching on her space. “Can I get your name? You’re so pretty—HEY!”

  Hugo yanked Brent backward by the collar.

  The girl ran, practically leaving cartoon dust in her wake.

  Hugo ignored protests from the parked SUV and focused on Brent.

  “What the hell, Bogie?” he complained. “I had that one locked.”

  Hugo stared down at his delusional friend. “That girl wasn’t interested. What’s wrong with you?”

  Brent’s bland good looks registered shock. “Chill, brosef!” He gave a shaky laugh and scratched his neck. “I’m just perfecting my pick-up game.”

  Hugo couldn’t believe his own ears. Who was this kid? “Seems like you’re becoming the same flavor of douchebag you claimed to hate.”

  A cloud descended over Brent’s face. “You’re lecturing me?” he shouted, veins bulging from his neck. “You go through girls like socks then wonder why Jodie doesn’t wanna be your girlfriend?” He jabbed a finger in Hugo’s face. “I don’t need judgement from someone who’s barely around, even when he bothers showing up. So get outta my face!”

  Hugo’s thoughts ground to a halt. He’d been clueless about how his tardiness was upsetting his friends.

  Brent shook his head in disgust and turned to leave.

  Hugo could think of one chance to reach his friend. “Are you still that brave kid who saved me two summers ago? Or is this who you really are?”

  Brent stopped. Hugo couldn’t see his expression, but hearing the hike in the basketballer’s breaths confirmed that his words had struck home.

  Hugo departed before Brent could reply.