Superhero (10 page)

“Where is here?”

“You’re at a detachment of Edwards Air Force Base. We’re in the desert in Nevada.”

“Are any still alive?”

“No. The last survivor passed away almost thirty years ago. I’ve never seen one myself. But my father would tell me stories. But the berridium, that…that’s their legacy to us.”

“Why me? Why am I here and why are you showing all this to me?”

She paused before saying, “Agamemnon.”

“Who’s that?”

“The creature that nearly killed you.”

Memories flooded Jack’s mind. He saw a bank with a monster in it. He felt air against his face as he flew across a building, slamming into stone and wood and steel, the snap of his spine.

“What about him?”

“He is…it is, our creation.”

They were silent a long time and Jack looked at her. She had soft eyes. He was filling with anger, but as he looked into her eyes, it began to dissipate.

“You created that thing?”

“It’s more accurate to say he created himself. The berridium is only meant to work in small doses. All of our tests were conducted with microscopic amounts in reptiles and rodents. It was never meant for human testing.”

“What happened?”

“He disagreed with us that human trials shouldn’t be used. He had his status and credentials revoked and was escorted off the property. He broke in that night and began the human trials. On himself. But he used too much. Berridium acts in the body much like a growth hormone, but is a thousand times more effective. He injected so much that he grew to what you saw before you at that bank. He destroyed the laboratory—the original laboratory—killed several men, and fled. We didn’t know where he was until he popped up in Los Angeles two years ago.”

A realization hit Jack like a sledgehammer and it tightened his guts. “How long was I in a coma?”

“How long do you think it was?”

“A few weeks at least.”

She paused. “Jack, you’ve been in a coma for over a year.”

“What?” he said, feeling himself deflate.

“I’m sorry. Your family paid for your treatment as long as they could. They nearly went broke doing it. But they didn’t have any more money to keep you in that hospital and your insurance cut out after six months.”

A year. Jack felt the true horror now. A year inside his own head in the dark. Everything that he’d missed. All the feelings he’d had…it couldn’t be true.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Why me?”

“You were going to die. I can’t save everyone he’s harmed, but I knew I could save you. But I want something in return.”

“What?”

“I want you to help me stop him.” She glanced around as if someone could be listening and leaned closer. “They are going to be revoking my status over this as well. On Sundays there are only two guards outside. We…I only have Sundays. If you’re willing to help me, I will consider us even for your life.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want to destroy this laboratory, and then I want to stop Agamemnon.”

“Why don’t you just let the police handle him?”

“You’re kidding, right? You saw what he can do. The police won’t be able to stop him. I need someone to help. Someone that…is like him.”

“I won’t turn into that thing.”

“That’s not what I meant. He overdosed, probably on purpose. One or two more micro treatments and you could be the strongest, fastest human being in history, Jack. Other than him. Please, help me.”

“Why do you want to destroy your own labs?”

“They’re not my labs; they’re the government’s labs. Berridium is a weapon to them. They were always nervous about human trials but now that they’ve seen the success with Agamemnon…they’ve begun their own trials. They’re going to create a race of people, and eventually it will be an entire underclass meant only to serve the United States military and our allies.”

“Slavery,” Jack said. “You’re talking about slavery?”

She nodded. “It’s too dangerous. It must be destroyed. Even if you won’t help me stop Agamemnon you have to help me destroy the remaining berridium so they can’t create another one of him.”

Jack finished his meal, purposely avoiding her eyes. A voice inside his head kept badgering him and it grew louder the more he ignored it.

“JACK.”

CHAPTER 21

Reese Stillman sat outside the tanning salon and smoked a joint as the three men he had sent in destroyed the place with baseball bats. He had built a good network of small businesses willing to pay for protection. But sometimes they got smart and felt the only thing they needed protection from was him. This salon refused to pay and when his collection guys had come around, they told them they would call the police.

Reese looked over and saw the owner on the ground, begging for his life and the life of his wife, who was crying on the couch behind him as their business was torn apart. Reese laughed as one of his men slammed the bat into the man’s back and he howled in pain so loud Reese could hear it across the street.

Finally, the three men came out, spattered with blood and sweating, and Reese started the car. As they got in, they handed him thick stacks of cash.

“Ten Gs,” one of the men said.

Reese stashed it in his glove box and began to drive. Three more businesses on this route and then they could go home. Or what they thought of as their home. The compound was dirty and dark. It wasn’t a place, in his estimation, that people of their stature needed to be. In his previous life, before Agamemnon had freed him, he hadn’t had much more, but he always desired it. Agamemnon taught him their mission was what was important, not their own desires. He knew this intellectually, but Reese didn’t know it instinctually. Instincts told him to take that money and rent a nice apartment in Mexico the hell away from this city.

A fast food restaurant was the next item on the list: a family-owned pizza joint that had gotten brave and actually called the police. Reese’s initial response was to blow the entire restaurant, but to be honest, he loved their pizza. It was a small comfort he wasn’t about to give up if he didn’t have to.

As he parked the car out front, his companions exited and went inside. Ambient music played on his iPod, which was connected to the stereo, something by Witchcraft, and he turned it down so he could hear the people inside.

Glass took up most of the restaurant’s front and Reese could see through to the owners, who were closing up. As the husband counted up the till, the wife cleaned off tables with a bottle of disinfectant and a white rag. When the three men entered, the wife said something to them without looking up. Reese figured she was informing them that they were closed. The look in her eyes when she glanced up and saw them was priceless.

The woman spoke with them as the man behind the counter stared on. Something was off about him. How calm he was. Reese noticed his right hand slipping underneath the counter.

You stupid bastards, he’s got a gun!

Reese jumped out of the car, pulling his Glock out of his waistband, but it was too late. The owner’s shotgun had already put a hole the size of a soccer ball in one of his men. The woman jumped underneath a table as the husband continued to fire. Reese’s two remaining men reacted so slowly he wondered if they were too drunk to be out tonight.

One of them caught buckshot in the shoulder or chest and flew off his feet as the other one ducked low and started firing at the husband. Neither of them could hit the other and the shots echoed into the street like small cannon fire. Reese could see lights flipping on in the apartment complex farther down the block.

His man stood and emptied his clip at the husband, who ducked behind the counter as the shots caught the wall behind him. Reese was at the door when the husband bounced up and fired, blowing half of his man’s head off.

Reese was frozen as the corpse collapsed in front of him. Both he and the husband were staring at the mess of blood and bone on the floor when they suddenly looked up, and noticed each other.

Reese was the first to move. He fired through the glass, shattering it, and leapt to the ground as a blast of buckshot flew at him. He crawled on his hands and knees over to the far end of the entrance as he heard sirens bellowing in the distance.

Loud, panicked Korean filled the restaurant as Reese took a deep breath and stood. He could see the husband shouting into a cell phone. Taking a deep breath to steady his aim, he fired. The rounds went through the glass but didn’t shatter it this time, just made large holes with spiderweb cracks racing up and down. One hit the husband in the left eye and he dropped as the wife screamed and crawled out of her hiding space to him. Reese could only see her buttocks, not enough for a decent shot. After a few moments, he lowered his gun and turned to head back to the car.

In front of him stood a fifteen-year-old boy. He was no more than five feet away and Reese realized that the boy was in shock.

The boy didn’t move or speak; he held up a cell phone, video recording the melee inside. Reese raised his gun. The barrel moved and he saw that his hand was trembling. He had never hurt a child before. Images of his drunken father coming home and throwing his mother across the room flashed in his mind. He remembered the little corner by the kitchen table where he would hide and hope his father didn’t see him.

Reese lowered the gun. He brushed past the boy and got into the car, speeding away as red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

Darkness enveloped the Myrs’ compound as Reese roared the SUV down the dirt path leading to the front entrance. He stopped the car and leaned his head back in the seat. Three men, men that had trusted him, were dead. But Agamemnon had taught them that the greatest gift they could give to their brothers was their life.

Somehow, he doubted those three cared much about their brothers right now.

Reese slinked out of the car and walked to the entrance. Moonlight lit his way and comforted him as he stared down at the dirt kicking up with each step. The entrance was unlocked and he went inside and made his way to the control room. Most of the brothers had gone to sleep, or were out at the clubs getting drunk and partying, or were off in some small crawlspace getting laid. But Agamemnon was still working. Even at this time of night, alone, he still left his armor on.

“Brother,” Reese said, “I have news.”

Agamemnon was crouched low, working on some fiberoptic wires attached to a monitor, when he stood up to his full height. It still filled Reese with a sense of awe and fear.

“What is it?” he said.

Reese recounted in detail the events of the night, leaving out the portion relating to the boy. Agamemnon stayed quiet the entire time and when Reese was through he took a deep breath before speaking.

“The wife must be taught a lesson, brother. You must go to her and teach her the price of resistance.”

Reese nodded. He had anticipated him saying as much. “I will. Anything else?”

Agamemnon walked to him, staring down at him as if he were a young child. Fear tickled Reese’s spine and he put real effort into not stepping backward.

“You are responsible for the deaths of three of our trusted brothers. You must atone.”

“How?”

“You must find three others to take their place. They must be just as capable as they were. Agreed?”

“Agreed, brother.”

Agamemnon nodded and returned to what he was doing. Reese walked out of the room and had to stop and lean against the wall a moment. Usually, he felt comfortable in Agamemnon’s presence—as comfortable as one could feel. But tonight a nagging feeling in his gut told him he was lucky Agamemnon had not asked for more than just replacements.

Reese pushed it out of his mind and walked to the small room he shared with two others and collapsed onto his bed. No other men were in the room but he could hear the sounds of sex coming from down the hall. He wrapped the pillow around his head, covering his ears, and tried to go to sleep, knowing he wouldn’t be getting any tonight.

CHAPTER 22

Jack Kane sat on the edge of his bed, looking down at the smooth metal on his legs. He would put one foot down to the floor and then lift it again, amazed that steel was responding to his whim. He looked at the muscles in his arms and flexed them a few times before standing and walking to the foot of the bed.

With one hand, he lifted the bed into the air. Easy and smooth. He placed the bed back down and walked to the chair in the corner, lifting it as well. He couldn’t feel the tension in his muscles he knew he should have from lifting heavy objects.

“Are you ready?”

The doctor stood at the doorway, her arms folded as she leaned against the doorframe. She had changed out of her white coat and was in jeans and a shirt now.

“I don’t even know your name,” Jack said.

She smiled. “Heidi.”

“Heidi. I like that name.”

“Oh, I got you something. Hang on.” She ran out of the room a few minutes and then came back in with a pile of clothing. “Wear these.”

“No shoes?”

“You don’t need them right now, but we’ll find some for you. We’re going to be doing another micro-treatment and possibly one more tomorrow night if you’re up to it. We can’t go outside; someone will see you. But I want to take you to the gym downstairs.”

They walked down the hall and Jack paced so smoothly and quickly he forgot he was a man that had been crippled. No noises came from his legs; he walked as silently as if he were gliding.

They hopped onto the elevator and Heidi chose their floor.

“What kind of metal is this?” Jack asked.

“It’s an alloy made from the steel of the ship.”

“The ship that…”

“Yes.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened onto a hallway with paintings up on the walls. Tables lined the glass that peered out over a parking lot. To the left was another cafeteria.

As hallways went, this was a long one. Jack guessed they had walked for over three minutes before turning into a room filled with gym equipment.