Barcode: Legend of Apollo (36 page)

“I never said I would.”

I can read your thoughts jerk.

I never thought it either.

Whatever. But you’ve already given her your data in Hades so you have to share the physical connection with me before she can have you. 
The gorgeously enticing girl bites her bottom lip and tilts her head.

“Are you serious?”

Hunching her eyebrows she jeers, “I said you can unwrap me. Guys are so slow.”

“You realize I’m not much of a gentleman and there’s no way I’d turn that down?”

“I’m not much of a lady and you never had a choice.”

Michelle tries kissing me on the lips and pulling away, but our tongues interlock and we end up on the couch, partially undressed. Her phone rings on the counter.

“That’s Hannah’s ringtone,” I say while releasing the bra I almost unhooked.

“Send me the old horror ringtone you use to have for me. She deserves it after messing this up.” I stare at Michelle strangely, with my lips only inches from hers. She sits up on my lap and snaps, “What?”

“Who said I ever changed it?”

Michelle punches me in the gut. I absorb the hit and huff air from my nose.

“And don’t get arrogant just because our training paid off,” she says while pulling her shirt off the nearby couch. “You beat Monte, not me.”

“Shut up and get out.”

Grabbing the phone from the counter, she adjusts her red shorts and dials Hannah’s number. I hold my chest plate in hand until we make it outside.

Michelle screams at Hannah, “Shut up! I’m not even that late…No. I think Spencer’s at Leo’s.”

I lock the door and Michelle pulls the phone away from her ear, kissing me one more time before running towards the stairs.

I love you jerk.

Whatever brat. Love you too.

I make it to Leo’s place a bit later than expected, but he couldn’t care much. Even as I walk in, he hardly wakes up long enough to wave before passing out on the floor. Antonio projects himself and offers to play a game with me.

“Leo had a long night trying to create a new operation tool for the brain. It’s difficult to explain, but he’ll need an hour or two before you leave.”

“Fine by me. I’m only here because it’d be too boring at home. You and I can kill some time before we take off.”

I sit on the couch and play games against Antonio for over two hours.

“I’m bored,” I bellow after losing five matches in a row.

He tries to punch me, but forgets that he can’t in hologram form. “You’re just jealous because I keep beating you.”

“It’s not fair. I haven’t had time to practice on this stupid game because I’ve been training for the past three months. Plus, you don’t even use hands. You could
be
the game for all I know.”

“Leonardo can beat me.”

I growl at Antonio and repeat myself louder for Leo to hear, “I’m bored.”

Leo wakes up from his slumber and knocks his tablet on the floor along with his drink. He commands the nanobots to clean it up before wiping the drool from his mouth. “There’s still another sixty-three minutes before the rooftops begin.”

“Can we at least go on a joyride?” Leo rolls his eyes and crawls across the floor to his armor. He attaches his wristbands and bootstraps, then rolls around until the other pieces connect. His armor’s pretty beastly in its own way.

The colors are a mystical gray and gold. His shoulder pads are small like the rest of his armor, but they have four spikes on them. His chest plate has a diamond-shaped Kevlar piece that bulges out and connects to the shoulder pads. A protective guard surrounds the back and sides of his neck with a strong metallic substance, but leaves an open space in the front for him to breathe freely. His spinal protection’s compact, and they have tiny spikes as well. The armor’s very retro, which suits him. He has long smoky gray pants and his arms are exposed. I would’ve never thought Leo had muscles, but he’s ripped like Kode.

“Let me get three more hours.”

“No,” I say, throwing the controller into Antonio’s image. “You look like a wildcat,” I tell the hologram, “Take a shower and shave.”

Antonio makes a gesture that translates into flipping me off.

Leo grabs a large duffel bag with materials he’s been working on to speed up our ride, as though it needed to go any faster. When we make it downstairs, the nanobots unite and I lay on a low motorcycle that doesn’t require me to work my stomach. This long strip of black carbon fiber has four wheels and two handlebars. It’s a much simpler version of the bikes we rode before. After I place my feet in the peddles, I flick my wrist and zip down the street.

We both zoom in and out of corners. Instead of the freeway, we take the streets to enjoy the scenic route. We need to kill some time before heading to China Town anyway.

As I whip around and under cars, Leo’s voice appears in my helmet, “Faster is better, right?”

“Whoa. I can hear you.”

“I added some nanobots to your suit for a wireless connection. You can call anyone through voice command.”

“Damn you’re smart,” I say as we enter China Town’s city limits.

“Thank you sir. But hey, Spence. What was that black smoke following us?”

“I never saw any. How could black smoke follow us?”

“I don’t know. The sensors in my helmet warned me of a potential threat, so I threw on autopilot and used my helmet cam to see what it could be. There was black smoke and a hand trying to grab you. You were dodging it with such skill, I thought you saw.”

“Never saw or sensed a thing. Wait. You have sensors in your helmet?”

“Yeah. I told you how to use them when we were leaving. How are you avoiding crashing at this speed if you’re not using them?”

“Barcodes and rapid perception.” Laughing at myself I say, “I was too mesmerized by the new bike I guess. My bad.”

Leo starts to tell me how to initiate the sensors when I hear static. I turn off the communication and activate the internal system. Immediately, a sensor goes off in my helmet telling me I’m on path to collide with a military truck’s tires. I attempt to move out of the collision path, but it seems the truck’s adjusting to my speed. Before I can jump off, I see sparks fly from Leo’s helmet. I’d scream his name, but I’ve already crashed into the wheel and I’m flipping across the road.

My armor’s much tougher than our first ride, but at this speed, I take some serious damage. While I struggle to catch my breath, I see a short man in a very expensive suit step out of the truck.

I open my helmet to get a better look at him. He’s either an older guy that looks young, or a young guy that wants to seem older. He’s wearing thick black glasses and has long, slick black hair tied into a ponytail. He looks American, but sounds Spanish when he says, “No. I don’t need any help. You head to Yang Arena and I’ll hop on the last convoy with Spencer.”

The driver from the truck asks, “What about your cousin?”

“Hmm. I’ll bring him. It’ll be fun.”

The small man taps the car before walking over to me. By now I can see him clearly, and I struggle to stand to my feet. There’s only one problem, little man launches his designer shoes into my chest. I roll over wondering why the suit didn’t absorb the force.

He snaps his fingers at someone and says, “Grab Leo please. Thank you both.” Suddenly, he punches me in the face, and drags me towards a new truck. “I apologize for the brutality, but I’ve learned over the years that people don’t listen when I say follow me.”

When we’re both laid flat in the back seats, one of the men carrying Leo says, “Don’t worry Eli. We’ll run to the gym.”

“You two are very considerate,” Eli replies. He brushes a bit of dirt off his suit, “I don’t know what I’d do without my team.”

I’ve regained my strength after a brief drive, and I’m ready to fight for our safety, but we’ve already stopped outside of Yang Arena.

Eli steps out of the truck and I kick the door off before he can open it. He rolls on the ground before standing up to casually adjust his glasses. His team rushes to his aid, but they only dust off his clothes and head towards the entrance.

“Whoa. You possibly
could
kill me, kid. I guess I’ll have to activate my barcodes to get you inside.”

With that warning, I increase the intensity of my tattoo until I feel a blazing fire on my back.

“Kill you? Helios?” I ask cautiously. The aura seems familiar. I’ve been around it a lot. This presence reminds me of the aura around Eve’s bowl and on her hands. And there’s another place that I can’t quite remember at the moment.

“I prefer being called Eli. My family named me Helios due to a few prophesies that said I would be more powerful than the original host. Blah blah blah. The entire story’s a bore. Really, it’s a detestable thing to do. I think the gods deserve to have their honor and place in history. When people remember me, I’d prefer to be called Eli.”

The short man rushes me after his declaration, and tries to punch me in the face, but he’s restraining himself. I capitalize on that to dodge the punch and explode my own attack on his chest. I take more damage than he does, but it was enough to cause him to retreat.

Punching his body feels like hitting Colt Stone.

Before he can try again, I whip a marble from my pocket and transmute it into its original form. I use my golden ball to surprise him by throwing it at his kneecap. He’s down long enough for me to strike him with a chain. I don’t plan on using my fist again. That would be suicide.

Eli rolls on the ground and closes the gap between us quickly. He dodges my swing, and strikes me in the stomach. I cringe in pain as my body shuts down. Eli drags me to the gate of the arena and slams me against the glass for Feng Yang to see.

Like most stadiums, Yang Arena’s closed off. The oddly shaped building is covered in stainless steel strengthened over the years by MMIBS. After the Morenos worked on our building, they began charging millions to reinforce other stadiums.

China Town’s an expensive area to live in. The artistic cultural designs of many surrounding buildings influenced the architecture of this structure. Though it’s a simple silver stadium, the shapes of the walls make it appealing.

The beauty matches the brawn. Helios isn’t breaking into this fort without some serious firepower. The tank-like trucks we drove in may be capable, but I doubt it.

“I’m sorry Spencer,” Eli whispers in my ear. “I don’t mean to use you like this, but I really need to get in there. If the arena were opened at the top like yours, I could simply drop down, but I don’t want to blast the door off. I’ll have to pay for that myself when the stadium’s mine.” Holding me by my hair, Eli bangs on the glass and coldly says, “See, Yang. I told you I’d bring some leverage. Now, open up. This is the savior of America and the people would hate to know you could’ve saved his life.”

“Don’t,” I shout before he knees me in my back. Sadly for him, I’m well versed with talking through pain. “He’ll kill everyone. Think of Gi Young.”

Feng flinches as Eli delivers another blow to my spine. Then, he and his men beat me until Feng opens the door. I can’t say I’m disappointed.

The owner of the arena, Feng Yang, quickly lunges towards Eli, who has dropped me.

Due to the pain on my face, I can hardly open my eyes long enough to see the two men fight, but Helios doesn’t seem to struggle too much. Feng throws a punch that Helios ducks under. As he begins to stand up straight, he locks his left arm around Feng’s neck. He secures his right arm on Feng’s torso, completing the Guillotine Choke, before falling to the ground. Then, Helios wraps both legs around Feng’s body. I watch hopelessly, as Gi Young’s father is choked to death, right before my eyes.

Someone brings a wet towel to Eli. He seems upset that a drop of blood has been split on his suit. He stomps his frustrations out on me, “I normally don’t have to do these things myself, but
someone
managed to kill all of my men from here to Griffith Park. I had no clue for weeks why Yang Arena wasn’t mine. I secretly own several in this very state, but neither Colt nor Yang had progressed on schedule.”

Eli wipes his face and I muster enough strength to connect a punch right on his chin. His glasses shift, and this time I felt very little pain. My brass knuckles have molded into a more durable material, making hitting this overdressed murderer easy target practice. I shouldn’t say easy. I think the material cracked a little.

He doesn’t try to counter because he knows that is all I have for now. Instead, Eli drags me into the arena, “I figured you had to be the hero who killed my men. Your father and I have spoken for years on how you and I would fight for control of America. He’s a very secretive man so he always sent the messages on actual paper.” He stops and stares at me, “I never wrote with ink until I met your father. Now, I can’t stop. It’s such a unique way to prove your wealth and intelligence. But that’s off topic.” He continues his brisk walk with me kicking and trying not to give him the pleasure of hearing me scream in pain.

“I flew in all the way from New York to find out you knew very little about me. It couldn’t have been you. I considered confronting you just in case, but your father kept you in close proximity to Arnold at all times, and let’s face it, that man’s scary.” He laughs, “Was scary. Last time I fought him he started tearing my suit. I had to run away. Ugh.”

Eli takes off his glasses and has an assistant wipe them. She’s a frail-looking girl, and only speaks in Spanish. Once his glasses are clean, he continues, “Then, I find out Kode beat Arnold for me.” He stops dragging me again to clearly say, “Now, something’s wrong with that boy. I had to wait until you were
really
far from him, but lo and behold, you’re on a joyride with my cousin right before midnight. Talk about Santa delivering a Christmas gift.”

As we reach the battlefield, I see Yang Arena gladiators rushing to defend their stadium. I haven’t visited this room in years, but it’s just as beautiful as it always has been.

The massive room is still surrounded by a recreation of the Terracotta Army that was destroyed in China during WWT. This army’s compiled of the faces of Amazon women since the creation of barcodes. There are a total of nine thousand four hundred and seventy-one stone sculptures in this room.