by Riley Tune
He actually, held out his free hand and allowed a few chunks of ash to fall on them. He smirked some. Then in a flash of lightning, he was gone. Leaving only Jen, Zeva, and I on the stage, and the skull spinning from where he just stood.
CHAPTER 18
OFFICER JACKSON
A
s my force field faded away, I rolled over and looked up at the night sky. My head still felt like mush from whatever that death cry did. Jen began to stir and slowly, so did Zeva. “My head. My everything,” Zeva said as she sat up. Her eyes darted from side to side slowly as she looked around. It was as if she had forgotten where she was before she blacked out.
“Where is he?” she said. “Gone,” I replied as I pulled my phone out. I hit three numbers and was instantly connected to a person on the other end. A woman with a tired voice answered. “I’d like to report several dozen murders at the Young Pyro concert in downtown Atlas City. Send everybody.”
On her end she likely wondered why I sounded as I did. It wasn’t that I was calm, I was just drained, overwhelmed, and still afraid to look around me. As I hung up the phone I just dropped it to the ground beside me.
There was silence for a few moments, then it was replaced by people screaming and running. The people who were paused by our attacker, yet were out of reach of the blast had been freed now.
Jen was the first to find her way to her feet and was standing now as she stretched her hand out to me to help me up. It was visibly shaking. For the second time in a short period, I was seeing Jen without her hat. I know it’s an odd thing to notice, but it was so rare, and now to have it happen twice so close to each other stood out to me. Maybe noticing this was a way my mind tried to deal with the chaos of my surroundings.
She may have helped me up, but Jen was clearly rattled. The shaky hands, and her heavy breathing despite standing still, were clear giveaways.
I grabbed her hand as she slowly pulled me up. Now that I was close to her, I could see that her face was pale, and her eyes were red. Zeva was standing over Young Pyro’s lifeless body. He hadn’t been dead long but his skin was oddly waxy and stretched. Not only that but his neck was twisted in a way that just didn’t seem natural.
What was even more confusing, was that he hadn’t been vaporized. Best I could figure, the power only effected living people that were voids. Jen moved to look at Young Pyro, and then suddenly bent over as bile came from her mouth.
“Sorry,” she said as she stood up and used the bottom of her shirt to clean up. “It’s just,” Jen said as she searched for the words. She was standing on the edge of the stage where only minutes ago she was enjoying a performance from one of the music world's biggest stars. Now, as I stood beside her, I could see the piles of bones scattered in front of us. It looked like a graveyard had been done in reverse, leaving the remains of the dead on the surface.
The view was worse than I could imagine. Surely being a villain didn’t mean you had to kill so many. My father was infamous, yet his body count was incredibly low. While Jen and I were taken aback at the scene around us, Zeva was handling it well. She was almost passive to the human remains around us. She must have had nerves of steel or something.
I jerked my head to the distance. We all heard it at the same time. Police sirens were headed our way. Zeva looked in the direction of the sirens and for a second, her irises flashed to a bright pink color. Her enhanced vision. “They’re a few miles out. You’d think with what happened they would have sent more,” Zeva said as her eyes returned to normal.
“Should I call dad?” Jen asked. I shook my head slowly. “Atlas no! Cops get first dibs.” I wasn’t a model student at school, but that lesson I did take seriously.
We had both shared a class where the teacher loved to tell us all that while we had power, we were never to think we were above the law. Only villains think like that. That same teacher later was fired for sleeping with a student in the academy. Clearly villainy comes in all forms and not just the superpowered kind.
Several black and white, sleek cop cars finally came into view. Red and blue siren lights flashed and touched almost every corner around us. As if the lights from the concert weren’t blinding enough, now we had siren lights to add to the mix.
The officers opened their doors quickly and drew their weapons. Jen and Zeva instantly put their hands up. “I called you guys here. No need for the guns.” I said as I gestured for them to come on over. None of them moved, and none of them lowered their weapons. I could feel my eyes roll, and yet again, despite being low on energy, I called upon my force field again to surround the three of us. I didn’t survive a fight with a murdering, powerful, Icon to just be shot by a trigger- happy rookie.
As my force field expanded, several of the officers looked in awe as they lowered their guns.. A few officers from other cars, slowly approached us, eyeing the piles of bones scattered around as they passed. “It’s a damn freak show,” one officer said. He was young with brown skin and a thick black mustache. He looked so young he could have been in high school, not a police officer.
After a few minutes of looking around, one officer looked at me directly. He was visibly older than some of the other men. His skin was more wrinkled, his mustache was gray, and his eyes were sunken in. In honesty, he seemed a little too old to be a normal beat cop.
He holstered his weapon and then rubbed his chin as he glanced around at the bone graveyard. Then, he screamed to his men around him. “Put your guns down.” Nothing really happened. “Did I fucking stutter? Put the damn guns down.” he screamed once more as spit flew from his mouth.
He looked around at all of his men, and then back to me. The three of us still stood on top of the stage while the officers were where the fans once stood, several feet below us. “Now, son,” the screaming cop said as he slowly raised his hands. The universal gesture of not meaning harm. “Are all three of you, Icons? Or just you?”
Had she not just had a brush with death, I was sure Jen would have flexed her invisibility, but instead she just stood there. Zeva barely reacted also. “My name is Hunter, not son.” The officer shook his head. “Fair enough. Hunter.” “Yeah. We’re Icons, but we didn’t do this.”
The officer shook his head and then turned to a fellow officer and said something. I was too far away to hear what though. The officer he was speaking to nodded as he listened. Then finally, turned and ran away. “Hey, we didn’t!” Zeva said. The older officer began speaking to another one of his men. They kept talking as if they couldn’t hear us. “I’m calling dad,” Jen said as she pulled her phone out. I didn’t stop her this time.
The screaming officer spoke into the walkie on his shoulder as he moved closer to the stage. “Dispatch, we are going to need Jackson over here. It’s going to be a long night,” The officer then snapped his fingers and the rest of his men began to get to work. Some pulled out phones, while others went and got crime scene tape.
“You just wait here. Jackson is on his way.” Before I could even ask who or what Jackson was, the officer turned away and began yelling at another member of his team. “Dad’s on the way, but he said they will take a minute.”
“Is Flex coming too?” Zeva asked. Jen shrugged. “Can you let us out of here?” Zeva said to me. It was worded like a question, but the tone of her voice made it seem like a command. I canceled my force field as she sat down on the edge of the stage. “They don’t train you for something like this in Purgatory,” she said as she looked at the cops at work. “No shit,” Jen said as she sat beside her. The two of them slowly, began talking as I tuned them out.
I didn’t know what it was but something wasn’t sitting well with me. Whoever this guy was, he had said some off the wall stuff. Called some of us Icons, and others Icon like. Then he referred to me as a, what was it, Spellborn? What in Atlas was a Spellborn?
Suddenly, and I mean so sudden that some of the policemen drew their weapons again, a man standing on a large slab of rock descended from the
sky. “Sup’ guys!” he said as he got lower to the ground. He was an average height black man. He wasn’t slim, but wasn’t overly large either. He was a solid build, and had a smile that was stretching from ear to ear.
The fact that he was descending from the heavens on a rock lead us to believe he was an Icon, yet he had on a police officer’s uniform. As the officers saw him, they once again went back to work. Only then, the screaming man moved towards him. “Jackson,” he said as the man stepped off the rock.
“These three are Icons. Figured they would be more comfortable talking to one of their own.” Jackson nodded, and bounced on the balls of his feet slightly as the man spoke to him. Jen, Zeva, and I all exchanged glances. This Jackson guy seemed too relaxed and too upbeat to be an officer. Let alone, an officer surrounded by several dozen dead people’s remains.
“Just get as much as you can and see how we can get to the bottom of this.” he said to Jackson. “You got it! That’s what I do. Now go ahead, beat it,” Jackson said as he smiled. “I got this, man!” The other officer just looked at him, shook his head, and then walked away.
Jackson watched him then turned to look at us. “That guy gives me the creeps. Screaming all the time and stuff. Like damn, chill man.” We didn’t say anything. “So, what’s with all the bones?” Jackson asked us, then shook his head. “Wait don’t answer that yet. Don’t think I want to know just yet.”
He raised his hand, and several portions of the large rock he was floating on separated into five smaller sections. All floating in the air. He stepped on each rock and made his way to the stage. “Mind if I join you?” he asked as he sat down beside Jen.
Once he was down, he closed his hand into a fist, and the rock chunks formed one large piece again. “So, who is first?” he asked as he looked around. “Tell me how all this came to be.” He said as he shook his head and looked at the scene around us. “Tragic.” There was a moment of silence and then we all began speaking at one time.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Jackson said loudly. “You three trying to make my brain explode. Take some breaths, relax, one at a time.” We all stopped talking. “Sorry,” Zeva said. Jackson nodded. Then he looked at me. “Hunter I’ll start with you. Then Zeva, and then Jen.” We all looked at him.
I was worried for a moment, and was curious what would happen if I attacked an officer of the law. “How do you know our names?” I asked him. “Oh sorry. I know that comes off as a little creepy. I read your files at the start of the school year. I like to keep up with the new Icons going on internships. They usually get into some sort of trouble. Not on this scale, but still.”
“You read just our files by chance?” Jen asked him. Jackson shook his head as he pulled some candy from his pocket and tossed it in his mouth. “Yes. Well, no. I read all of the files, of all the students for the year.” He said this as he pointed to us.
“Jennifer Reid, invisibility and phasing of items. Daughter of Life-Line.” Then he pointed to Zeva. “Zeva Greene, ice powers, and ocular abilities, but no fun ocular abilities. Well known family of purestock, but just a F.Y.I., I hate the term purestock. Also has a brother in Imperial Lords who is making a name for himself.” Zeva’s head jerked.
Then he finally pointed to me. “Last but not least, the most popular young Icon around it seems. Hunter Monroe. Son of a villain and heroic Icon. Strength, force fields, flight, and ocular abilities of the fun kind. Also, sadly, known as a troublemaker, abomination, half breed,” I raised my hands to stop him from talking. “We get it, we get it. Enough with the names.”
Jackson nodded his head. “My bad.”
Over the next ten to fifteen minutes, we told Officer Jackson what had happened. How we came to the concert, how the people were suddenly paused, and how the person attacking us had more powers than any other reported Icon. What was strange is that he didn’t take notes like a normal officer would. He just nodded and ate his candy, making faces and gestures here and there
“So, wait a dang-on minute,” Jackson said as he looked at us all. “Your friend just left you guys? Picasso, I mean.” “I don’t think friend is the word I would use,” I said. “Either way, that’s some messed up shit to do. You’ve given me a lot of information.” He stood up from sitting down beside us.
“Some I will have to share with Icon supergroups, while other portions I will have to share with the police. Being both Icon and officer allows me entrance to both worlds of the crime fighter. Cool ain't it?” Jackson said with a smile.
“Later, Kids,” he raised his hand and the rock slab on the ground floated to life. “Wait.” I asked him. Zeva and Jen looked at me. They likely thought it was about what had just happened, but it wasn’t. Officer Jackson was much like Young Pyro to me. He had decided to do what he wanted to do, and not just become a hero or villain simply because that was what was expected of him.
“What’s up?” Jackson asked. I glanced at the girls and then back to Jackson. “Can I talk to you for a second?” I asked as I jumped up and walked over to him. Zeva turned back around and slowly, so did Jen. “Sure, what’s up? Wait. This isn’t some question about sex or something is it? That’s not in my job description man.” “No,” I replied quickly.
Jackson nodded his head, and exhaled as he put his hand on his chest. “Good. Okay then, ask away.” I cleared my throat some. “Why a cop?” He looked at me. “Why a cop what?” I paused for a second as I searched for what I was trying to say.
“I know it’s not the best time, but what made you want to be a cop? Like most of us either go hero or villain. You went on to be a cop. Which is a hero, but not to the degree of an Icon.” He likely thought this was a random question. Which, in honesty it was. I didn’t get this chance often, and the only person I ever was able to ask before was Mrs. Reid.
“I get it. You don’t know which side to take. Hero or villain. I suppose you have a little bit of both in you. Well for me, I wanted to do what my abilities helped more in. I was born with geo-kinesis, or the ability to manipulate earth, and with a memory on the supreme level.” He laughed a little. “Like I can even remember what my mom ate when she was pregnant with me.”
My eyes bulged. “I know, trippy right?” Jackson said. “With my earth powers alone, I could have been an Icon who went the traditional way, but I never wanted to, yet I knew I wanted to be a hero of some sort.” He took a deep breath and for the first time, his smile faded some.
“I had a younger brother whom I lost to a car accident when I was younger, and it opened up some points of view for me. There are tragedies happening every day that go under the radar of Icons because they are so common. Car accident, neighborhood violence, and so on. All important, but not on the level of a plane falling from the sky, or stuff like the Battle of Ages. So, I put on the cop uniform and found my purpose. I feel more powerful than ever when I have this bad boy on,” he said as he stood comically proud in his uniform.
Surprisingly, I laughed some. “In a nutshell, I followed my heart. I know your file, and I can admit your path is more public than others, but still it’s your path. Do what you feel is right.” “What if I don’t know what I feel is right.” I asked him, and for a second I felt like a kid.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a card. I thought he was looking for more candy at first. “You will when the time is right. If you need any advice or a person to talk to, or even help getting out of a speeding ticket, you give me a call, okay?”
I took the card from him and nodded. Officer Jackson smiled at me, and then jumped off the stage, and landed on the large floating rock nearby. I watched him float away and then heard Jen call for me.
I turned around and saw her and Zeva looking at a door on the stage. It wasn’t there before, and it lead to nowhere at all. I took a deep breath and immediately became upset. This was one of Picasso’s constructs. I had seen this door before.
I walked up to it and opened it slowly. On the other side of the door, at a large white table in
a gray room sat Detach, Picasso, and Mr. Impervious himself. Detach looked very passive. It was hard to tell if she was angry or not. I also was curious if this was a clone or if it was the original, I mean Prime, Detach.
Picasso didn’t even look up at us. He looked like a helpless dog or something. A helpless dog that knew he was in trouble and avoided our eyes at all cost. “Come in and sit down.” Detach said. We all glanced at each other, but none of us moved. Then Mr. Impervious finally spoke. “The shit is about to hit the fan for everybody. You have no idea what you have stumbled across.”
CHAPTER 19
INFINITY
A
s we sat with Detach there was silence for a few moments as she looked at some papers in front of her. I glanced at Mr. Impervious, who looked blankly at us all. The only sound in the room was that of Detach moving her papers back and forth. This sound, this casual action was driving me crazy inside. You can’t allow Impervious to lead off with a statement like the shit is about to hit the fan and then keep us in suspense like this.
I casually cleared my throat, and in the silence, it sounded like a bomb going off. “Are you rushing me, Mr. Monroe?” Detach said without even looking up at me. I shook my head, but didn’t answer. “Good,” she said once more, even though she still never looked my way. I guess she knew the answer to that already.
I turned to Jen and Zeva who were both looking as nervous as I felt. Jen had even taken her hat off and had it resting on her lap. I had seen her do this several times before at our home when Mr. Reid was on the warpath.
Zeva, unable to stay still and visibly uncomfortable, was glaring at Picasso, as she cradled a dagger made out of ice in her hand. I was upset with him too, but I honestly think she wanted to stab him. He had retreated and, for all he knew, was leaving us to die, so maybe he deserved a little pain.