The Last Superhero (47 page)

Once
he's hit the ground, he rolls to his back and with his hands extended
towards them, he makes the robot levitate, leaving Jake and Frances
with no control over the thing.

I
pull my naginata and aim it at him as we get to where he's now
standing, suspending the metal contraption in the air and slowly
pressuring it, making the glass on its face crack.

Daphne
runs straight for him and then slides to the right and I manage to
wound one of his flanks.

The
robot is dropped as he doubles over.

Suárez
hops on Salvatore Jr.'s back, pulling out a knife, pulling his
victim's head back, ready to slit his throat when a shadow flies
above us.

The
distraction is enough for Salvatore Jr. to turn the tables on Suárez,
landing on top of him and setting a hand upon his temple that sends
Suárez into a trance.

Powell
and Wyatt shoot bullets and arrows into the sky but miss whatever it
is flying above us.

Whatever
it is, it's enveloped in blinding light.

“
Get
them out of the mud!” The cry comes out of Suárez's
lips. “Help me get them out!”

Wyatt
and Daphne try to approach him, but Salvatore's quick to push them
away.

Think,
dammit. Think.

Think
of what you'd do if it were you controlling the nightmare, not him.
Think of what would go down if you took control.

“
They
can't be dead!!” Suárez's thrashing.

I
have to stop this somehow.

Push!

The
sunlight flickers. Exactly like it did during the times I pushed
against his fantasies.

He's
noticed, left Suárez contorting in pain, and is coming for me.

Look
up and the shadow's no more. It's Michelangelo.

Set
the naginata ready to hit the man with the purple mask who is coming
for me, pushing away everyone who tries to get near.

Use
that brain of yours! Take the wheel!

He
pounces and I'm able to deflect him with a sweep of the wooden part
of my spear, sending him skidding to the side.

Daphne
pounces on him, managing to bite one of his arms.

Michelangelo's
holding a giant sword while suspended in the air.

“
Watch
out!” Wyatt cries as the angel propels himself towards Jake and
Frances' robot's chest, sticking the blade through the metal.

Powell
shoots off half of one of the archangel's wings, but it doesn't stop
his assault as he pulls the sword up with him, cutting a giant slit
on the robot's body, upwards, to get to the glass.

“
He's
going for Frances!” I shout at Wyatt in time to hear Daphne
whine as she flies through the air and hits the ground some feet
away.

I
break into a run and go for the grab.

The
moment my hands get a hold of Salvatore Jr.'s ankles, he screams so
loud it creates a super strong seismic reaction that sends everyone
falling. Not enough, however, for me to let go even if it means I'll
burn my hands to the bone.

He's
screaming in pain.

Everything
starts to blur, everything starts to distort.

He's
trying to kick me off.

Powell's
on Michelangelo, trying to get him off the fallen robot while Frances
is being held back by Jake in an attempt for her not to break the
glass herself.

Salvatore
Jr.'s trying to roll to his chest, to crawl.

I
start making my way up his legs.

See
Daphne's up and trying to get to Michelangelo.

UGH.
It's happening to her too!

“
Stop
her!” I shout at Wyatt, who hadn't noticed, and he goes for the
purple-eyed werewolf.

At
least that takes some of Salvatore Jr.'s attention away from me and
I've made it to his hips when he grabs my neck but can't apply any
pressure.

It
baffles him.

I
look down and realize the burns on my hands aren't as bad as the ones
I've inflicted on him.

I'm
trying to change this place to somewhere else. I want to change our
location.

The
distortion gets worse, the dirt turning to asphalt, the mountain
landscape turning into buildings.

His
hands are on my shoulders, keeping me at arm’s distance as I'm
trying to touch his mask while concentrating on controlling our
surroundings.

He's
scared. He's afraid.

He's
disappeared everyone else.

A
knee to my chest doesn't hurt as much as it did in our previous
fights.

It
only pushes me away.

The
asphalt's turning to snow.

“
Where's
everyone else?!”

“
I'm
going to kill you. One by one.”

Did
I ask that aloud?

Well,
a knee to the balls does the trick and he can't help but pull away.

I
get on my feet, trying to conjure my companions into coming in, but
he's not letting me.

Convert
my naginata into a sword and I'm so ready to be done with this.

We're
on a solitary shore that's frozen over.

I
raise my sword and close my eyes, falling on him with all my weight
only to open my eyes and see he's gone and the sword got stuck in the
snow that is now cracking like ice.

“
Fuck.”
Scramble to my feet and see the crack growing bigger and bigger on
all sides.

The
sword falls into the pit and all my instinct tells me is to run.

Run
and see the crack’s following, coming for me.

Zigzag.
Like they tell you to when someone's trying to shoot you.

Feel
someone come from the side, throw me off the crack's path.

The
long black hair and the purple mask framing the gentle eyes that say,
“Your friends are safe.”

“
Let
me have her!” And Michelangelo's casually walking to where we
are, his wing healed, his body drenched in light, his sword secured
in its sheath; he's a vision to behold. “Leave her to me,
brother.”

Yet
again, I've lost control of this.

“
No.”
Salvatore stands, shielding me. “Don't you dare.”

“
Your
love for these pitiful creatures is what destroyed us!”

That
angers Salvatore who, holding onto one of my hands, uses his free arm
to hurl Michelangelo against a palm tree.

The
winged Adonis hits the tree but falls on all fours on the snow, ready
to charge us.

“
Run.
I'll hold him off,” Salvatore tells me, determination in his
eyes.

“
I
can help you!”

The
moment I say so, Salvatore's taken down by a lightning bolt that,
when I glance up, realize has come from Michelangelo's sword as he
soars the sky above us.

That's
my cue to run as fast as I can.

Wait a moment. I actually
want to run away from him?

Keep running. Just keep
running.

I'm dead. I know it. Dead as
in he's going to skewer me with that sword and it's over.

Spy on him as he lifts the
blade, it glints, blinds me.

The crack's back and this
time it gets my ankle stuck in it and I fall on my face.

Shut your eyes and say
goodbye cruel world.

“
NOOOOOOOOO!”
Another shot of lightning hits Salvatore straight on the back as he
covers me.

The poor man's determined to
save me, isn't he?!

“
I said leave her to
me!” Michelangelo cries above us, making the ground underneath
us shake with every flap of his wings. “Let her come!”

“
She won't.”
Salvatore roars with the little voice left in him, helping me up in
the meantime. “Can't you see she's not doing it herself?”

He's
noticed it too. Maybe he can explain...

Salvatore is able to get on
his feet as Michelangelo descends, his sandal-clad feet landing on
the ice ever so gently.

Wiggle the foot out of the
crack. Think it loose and so it becomes.

Push. Come on. Regain
control.

Gasps of wind surround us
and the ice starts melting, making rivers of crystalline liquid that
run back to the sea, revealing the white sands on which we're
standing. The skies clear, letting the sun in, the warmth.

Hear footsteps, voices.

Take a peek at the figures
appearing over a small hill and see the wizard, the lion, the robot,
the assassin, the soldier, the elf, and the werewolf overlooking us.

Michelangelo grunts, looking
at me in anger while Salvatore is just standing there, smirking.

The first stretches a hand
out to me.

Is that supposed to mean
something? 'Cause it ain't working.

Drop the sword, stretch out
the other hand and even squint in concentration.

Nope. Not working. It
would've probably worked before but now, not a bit.

Salvatore lets out a
chortle. “Give up, brother. Steven's done it.” I turn to
him, a question in my head that I don't speak. “Welcome to the
family,” he says, his teeth shining through his smile.

I'm so entranced by
Salvatore's expression I don't see Michelangelo grabbing the sword
and rushing towards me, aiming the thing at my abdomen, and I can
only duck when he pounces...

“
AAAAAAAAAGGGH!!”

“
Breathe, Giana!
You're back, you're out. Breathe!”

And I'm out of air while
hands hold me down and the oxygen mask is secured to my face.

Refocus my sight and see
Wyatt's concerned face hovering above me. “You're okay,”
he says.

He's a psychiatrist, he says
that to everyone. So I survey the room for another set of eyes and
find everyone's there, but Steven's are the ones I finally land on as
he lies on his stretcher.

His are the only ones that
ease me, those hazel pools shining with a mix of love and joy that
makes it all better.

“
I love you,” he
breathes, a tear rolling down the side of his face and it's enough
for me to go back and think hard on what Salvatore said:

Welcome to the family.

52

The
moment I was free from my cuffs Steven pulled me to him, showering me
with kisses.