Hero Unit
Authors: JC Bybee
Tags: #super hero, #sci fi, #action, #police, #exceptional, #hero unit
Hero Unit
By JC Bybee
Copyright 2014 JC Bybee
Smashwords Edition
Cover art by James E. Curwen
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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author.
Contents
Chapter 1
The heavy personnel carrier’s tires hissed on the new
pavement as it rolled down Seventh Avenue. Even at three o’clock in
the morning the air was hot and humid. No surprise considering it
was mid-August in the Midwest. Hellfire, and most the rest of the
Global Class Exceptionals, did their best to make sure all four
seasons acted like they should.
The streets were empty, almost devoid of
life, which was to be expected in the early, early morning.
Sweeping health reform in the late nineties had abolished second
and third shift for most commercial and industrial businesses. The
earliest the work day could start was an hour after sunrise and
they all ran for eight hours. Unless of course you were deemed
vital, like emergency services.
Ace leaned back in her chair, glad for the
silence in the carrier. Even after a year she still felt like a
newcomer to the Exceptional’s Enforcement Division, or Hero Units.
This was only her second assignment with her new unit. Anti
activity had been on a down swing ever since the Dark Houston
incident.
Thinking about Dark Houston brought memories
flashing through her mind.
Easy, Ace, don’t dwell on them
.
She hitched her shoulders gently. The heavy
combat armor all Heroes wore had, at one time, seemed excessive to
her. That had changed after Dark Houston. A lot of things had
changed for her on that day.
Again memories flashed through her mind.
Fellow E.E.D recruits dead or dying. The Anti that had hit the
training facility laughing as he killed Heroes and normals
alike.
Not right now, Ace. Let it go.
“Easy Ace,” Jacks said in his pleasant
Midwest accent, “The nerves’ll pass.”
She shook her head. Jacks meant well, but he
didn’t understand what it was like for her. The other four members
of her unit were Fourth Generation Exceptionals. The Fourth
Generation was considered, by most, to be the last, and most
advanced, generation of Exceptionals.
That’s what they thought.
The powers of the weakest of the Fourths were
leaps and bounds beyond those of previous Generations. Jacks, for
example, was an Energy Class who could manipulate heat. He could
increase it, decrease it, move it, transfer it, shape it, ignore
it; if there was heat present Jacks could do something to it.
Jacks was considered the least member of
their squad, at the bottom end of the upper tier of Exceptionals.
Torment, their leader, was a strong, upper tier Mental Class. She
could read minds, manipulate emotions, cause hallucinations, induce
manias and a whole host of other mental problems.
Why Torment? It’s not like she ever uses her
power to torment people.
Deuce, Jacks’ partner, was also a Mental
Class. His powers were telekinetic and they were damn powerful. Ace
had watched him lift an aircraft carrier, just for practice. The
effort had been a massive strain on his powers, wearing them out
completely, but he’d done it.
Then there was Ace’s partner, Maniac. She was
an Energy Class, a technomancer (that’s what they called
themselves), and she was in the upper end of the upper tier of the
Fourths. Anything that ran off of electricity, or had electricity
in it, she could manipulate. Raw electricity, like lighting, was
beyond her, but once it was contained Maniac could control it.
Ace rounded out their team and she still
struggled with feeling like she belonged. Everyone knew her as the
only Fifth Generation Exceptional. The entire scientific community
had been in an uproar with her birth. Previously when the first
Exceptional of a new generation was born the previous generation
ended, but all over the earth the Fourth Generation continued.
And not even the greatest minds, both normal
and Exceptional, know why.
Like every other infant, Ace had been tested
to see if she was an Exceptional. The testing equipment had broken.
They’d brought in an upper tier Fourth whose power allowed her to
rate the power of other Exceptionals. Testing Ace had landed her in
a mental institution.
I remember her screams, despite being an
infant.
After that she’d been classified as a Fifth
Generation. Every scientist in the world who found out about her
birth had anticipated the coming of the Fifth Generation. It had
never come. Ace was an outlier, an exception. And no one knew
why.
Just another question for us to answer,
eventually.
“Jacks, you know full well why she is
nervous,” Torment said. Her voice always had a faint echo to it,
like she was talking from inside a cave. That was her Quirk. All
Exceptionals had one. Some were more obvious than others.
And some are just damned annoying.
Despite her name Torment was kind to
everyone, even those they apprehended. It was nice to have a leader
that actually cared about her people. One of Ace’s COs from her
days in the army hadn’t given a damn about the Exceptionals under
his command. He hadn’t lasted long in a command position.
“Just trying to help,” Jacks replied with a
shrug.
“It’s okay guys, I’ll be fine,” Ace said. She
tried her best to sound confident. She wasn’t sure if it
worked.
“Eyes open everyone,” Maniac’s voice came
over the intercom. She was their driver. “We’re at the scene.”
Their transport rolled to a stop and they
piled out the back, Ace first, just in case the situation was worse
than anticipated. She was technically classified as a Fortress
Class, since most of her powers were considered “physical” powers,
and as far as anyone had been able to discover she was
invulnerable.
Not even Tomahawk could say that.
Ace blocked out that particular memory. Now
was really not the time to think about Tomahawk.
Sorry, bad timing.
“Forgot this,” Jacks said and handed over her
assault rifle. He had to carry it with both hands. Ace took it,
with one hand, and forcing a smile said, “Thanks.”
Jacks smiled back, genuinely; it was hard to
bring the man down. Ace shouldered her rifle. It was mandatory for
all Heroes to carry the assault weapons, for the same reason all
Heroes had to wear body armor.
Don’t think about it.
Unfortunately this time the memories of Dark
Houston came back.
Blood Host laughed, a high pitched, grating
sound. Another blast of viral energy bloomed to Ace’s right,
killing a group of reporters. At her feet Deek writhed on the
ground, his skin covered in festering sores.
She stumbled, nearly falling to her knees.
Images flashed through her mind. Ace tried to block them out, but
they kept coming. Death, destruction and Blood Host’s mad laugh all
cascaded through her mind.
“Ace,” Torment’s soothing voice broke through
the haze. “Ace, concentrate on my words. Breathe, slowly. It’s
done. That’s the past. Focus on the present.”
The words gave Ace something real to focus
on. They pulled her out of the past and allowed her to regain her
hold on the present.
“I’m good,” Ace said after a few deep
breaths.
“Are you sure?” Torment asked. Every Hero
Unit had a Mental Class like Torment, just in case. Having power
was a heavy burden. Most members of the Hero Units ended up with
some form of PTSD. The Mental Class were the ones that helped them
deal with it. Torment had been with the E.E.D long enough that she
understood what Ace was going through.
Well, she kind of understands.
“I’m sure,” Ace replied.
“Dark Houston again?” Torment knew the answer
to that question. What had gone down at the E.E.D training facility
in Dark Houston had marked Ace. It affected her more than any other
event in her life.
That’s not entirely true and you know
it.
“I’ll tell you later,” Ace said. She was
going to have to freely submit to a psych evaluation anyway. Every
officer on scene had witnessed what had just happened. The last
thing they needed were rumors that she was losing it.
Torment nodded and Ace again shouldered her
rifle. She wondered just how long this particular version was going
to last. The Army had given up trying to find an alloy that could
withstand her strength. It wasn’t that Ace couldn’t regulate her
strength, quite the opposite, but in stressful situations that
control could slip. After she’d crushed three AR-15s her gun use
had been limited to training only.
The head of R&D for the E.E.D, a Mental
Class Fourth named Einstein, had taken it as personal challenge to
create an alloy that would stand up to Ace’s strength. Luckily, or
unluckily, for Ace Einstein was stationed in her precinct. It led
to a lot of her free time spent testing new metals for him. This
last one had at least made it out of the test fire stage.
Ace turned her attention back to the
situation at hand. They all took a moment to study the scene. There
were patrol cars parked along both sides of the street. According
to the limited information her squad had been given the police had
cordoned off a large section of the block to protect any civilians.
There were no curfews so people were bound to be out even in the
early morning.
There were also a group of SWAT officers
present, though they seemed more than willing to let the Heroes
take over. Apparently the situation was worse than they had been
led to believe. That was going to annoy Torment. She hated coming
into a situation under informed. It showed a lack of respect on the
part of the normal police. The normal police, as an organization,
understood the need for the Hero Units, but that didn't mean
individual officers did.
In the middle of the cordoned off area was a
large office building. It was just one of hundreds in the city that
housed a multitude of law firms, ad companies, a testing center and
the like. It was a monument to corporate America. Places like it
attracted Anti activity.
It’s a power trip for them. Take down the
very things the E.E.D protects.
Her squad reported to the officer in charge,
a detective named Rick Allen. He was a normal and a nice enough
guy. Ace had talked with him once or twice. Detective Allen was
more than willing to admit when a situation necessitated Hero
intervention. He made it a point to keep Hero Units he called in
appraised of the situation. That didn't mean dispatch had to pass
on all the information he gave them.
“Torment, I’m glad you’re here. Is your team
briefed on the situation?” Detective Allen asked without waiting on
pleasantries and confirming Ace’s suspicion that it was dispatch
that was the problem.
Torment shook her head. “I’m afraid not,
detective. All we were told was that there was a situation that
needed Hero intervention. No details were passed on to us.”
“Right, I’ll deal with problems from dispatch
later. Right now we’ve got an Anti in there,” he indicated the
faceless corporate edifice. “He is supposedly holding a group of
Regs and normals hostage.” Despite his calm exterior Ace knew
Detective Allen was going to let the dispatcher have it once the
situation was taken care of. He didn’t tolerate disrespect from the
normals to the Heroes and vice versa.
