The Push Chronicles (Book 3): Incorruptible (17 page)

"I don't have anything concrete, only some hunches and calculated guesses."  I shook my head apologetically.  "It sounds stupid, but I really can't say more until we actually see him and find out how bad this is.  I only know that it's probably going to have to be something I do and I don't even know how much you guys will be able to help with that."

"At worst, I'm sure we'll need to cover your back."  Ex glanced at Twister again.  "I trust that you trust your folks, but there's going to be more than your people around.  It's really likely we'll run into trouble no matter how smartly we do this."

"Fair enough."

I scanned the room, looking from each of my friends and allies to the other.  There was anxiety, eagerness, confidence, concern.  Most of all, there was a building tension.  It was that sense of impending action that seemed to rile up any of the Pushed, no matter their moral persuasion.

"Well, we aren't getting any younger and this city isn't getting any safer."  I looked to Mind's Eye and Twister.  "Let's get the ball rolling."

Chapter 20 Rebellion

"Sssecond thoughtsss, Irene?"

I hadn't realized I was pacing in the confines of the sewer tunnel until Medusa had spoken.  It was the closest point to the surface and the Georgia Capitol building we could find, connecting to the underbelly of the building itself.  We were gathered here, waiting for that last telepathic call from Twister's fellow disgruntled Crusaders before moving up and in to the building itself.

"No, more like tenth thoughts."  I tried to force a smile.  "I did say this was a slim shot, after all."

"If it helpsss any, if anyone can make a chance in hell a winner, I'd sssay it wasss you."

Meds gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.  I nodded, trying to push down the old bitterness that all of this responsibility used to bring up before it could take hold again.  It had only been a few days since my eyes had been opened and the burden started to feel comfortable instead of crushing.  I didn't need a backslide right now.

"Thanks for the reassurance.  However this goes down, we'll figure out a way to make it work."  I managed to make my smile a little more confident.  "We're the good guys, after all.  Making things work is what we do."

"It isss indeed."  Her scaly features looked a bit smug as she crossed her arms.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome.  Jussst doing what needed to be done."

I was just about to reply to that when Mind's Eye snapped up out of her meditative trance.  I felt the adrenaline start to flood my system before she even got the words I expected to hear out of her mouth.

"It is time to begin."

It certainly started off easy enough.  From the sewer, a series of conveniently unlocked access doors led our ragtag team through a small maintenance area.  A casual glance made me think water-purification station.  At least Eric had the finest in filtered water while he brooded.  Anger started to well up in me unbidden but I drove it down.

I couldn't afford to be angry.  In fact, I had to get myself into almost the opposite mindset and that would be hard.  Months of hardship and bitter conflict don't just melt away with a few happy thoughts.

Twister took the lead as we moved into the basement of the building itself.  Though certainly we were doing our best to be subtle, there were limits to what a crowd of Push Heroes, including a six-armed giant, a winged dragon-woman, and a tank-treaded teen, could accomplish.  When the snarling black-furred werewolf thing came out of the shadows in the stairwell leading up, I was certain that the jig was up and it was time for the hitting part of our Capitol tour.

"Hold it now," the aging lawman called behind him, raising a hand to stave off the wave of impending violence.  "Everything still quiet, Fang?"

"For the moment," came the deep growling voice.  I could see, inside that hulking shell, was a rather plain looking young man.  His pleasant and mild expression did not translate well through the lupine features of his Pushed form.  "The only problem you guys will have is the honor guard."

"They won't be more than a momentary problem," Quentin said.  I wasn't so cocky, but it'd have to be a pretty huge guard to give this little band any pause.  The real danger would be that any conflict would probably start a rapid escalation.  There wouldn't be much time after that to get everything back under control.

"How many of them are there?"  Best for me to get the obvious question out of the way.

"Epic only keeps two guards most of the time," Fang said.  His ears involuntarily went back like a submissive puppy.  "I mean, he's Epic.  He doesn't need more than that.  They're called an honor guard for a reason."

"Good job," Twister nodded.  "Now, I know it's a bit to ask of you, but if things start gettin' ugly out there, we're all going to need to stand together 'til we fix all of this."  He gave the wolfman a scratch between the ears, like you might handle the family dog.  It didn't seem right to me, but it certainly had the right effect on Fang.  "Even if it means getting in a scrape with some other Crusaders."

"Alright, Twister."  Fang rose up to his full seven-foot height.  The quirky thought sprang into my head that big & tall stores must be doing great business in the post-Whiteout world as soon as I noticed the modesty-protecting bicycle shorts on him.  "I can't say I like it, they're our pack and all, but if you and Fray think it's best ..."  The rumbling voice trailed off as he turned and loped off up the stairs.

"Cowboy," Ex said, low but not quite a whisper, "is that going to be a problem?  Again, I know you trust your folks -"

"They'll be good when the shit hits the fan."  Twister cast a glance back at me and Mind's Eye.  "'Sides, it's about time we had to go through the same things y'all had to.  We're all cast from the same mold.  When it comes down to it, we'll do what we have to do, same as you."

Ex's expression softened and he nodded. 
Twister reciprocated the nod and that was all that needed.  A moment of silence settled over us all, one last gathering of nerve, before we surged up the stairs.
  If Fang's bit of intelligence was solid, there wasn't any more call for stealth, it was time for speed.

We burst onto the main floor of the Capitol, right into the Rotunda itself.  Above us was the vaulted ceiling and all around us the images of national heroes and Georgia icons alike, both in paintings and busts, bore witness to our headlong rush.  Archer had been quite clear.  Epic had created an impromptu throne room and audience chamber in the State Senate chambers on the third floor.  That left plenty of time for things to go horribly wrong as we made our way up.

However, that time wasn't now.  There were several Crusaders either on-duty or just milling about, but they all turned a blind eye (or whatever they used to perceive motion) to us.  The six normal human police officers looked more eager to draw arms, but a familiar voice rang out before anyone did anything regrettable.

"Stand down, men," Joe Braxton, formerly captain of the Pushed Action Response Team and now seemingly Capitol security, called out.  I had wondered what happened to him in the aftermath of the fateful refusal he presented to Epic those weeks ago.  "These folks are on our side."

"But they're -" one of the younger officers started and was immediately shut down by Joe.

"Six of those people saved the people of this city a half dozen times at least."  Braxton had always been visibly nervous, maybe intimidated by the Pushed in the past, but he apparently always knew the deeper truth.  "You draw on them; I'll shoot you my damn self."

Extinguisher gave a slow nod to the former captain and, now cowed, none of the security challenged us as we pushed on to the staircase in the North Atrium.  I could already start to feel the tendrils of raw power that signaled the proximity of a Pushed as powerful as Eric and, from the nausea I could see on Quentin's face, it was obvious he had never been so close to something like Epic.  Still, for all that power, I could tell that it was so much less than what it had been.  Feeling that sick twist of my gut, I found myself picking up the pace, squeezing to the head of the pack before we rounded the steps to the second floor.

Should I have been shocked that I caught sight of one of Battalion's many duplicates at the top of the stairwell?  No, not really, I wasn't shocked at all.  Honestly, I had been waiting for the monkey wrench to fall into the gears.  I was more surprised that it wasn't paying full attention to the stairs it seemed to be guarding.  The phantasm of light was occupied glancing at something else out of my sight.  A something that was accompanied by impassioned argument.

"This is insanity!"  That had to be Doc Bio, of that I was certain.

I only paid half an ear as I rushed forward.  The problem was that I couldn't hurt the thing directly and it would undoubtedly call attention to us.  I'd just have to leave it to Twister.  While certainly we could rush up the stairs and be to Epic in moments, there was no way to do so without these other Crusaders coming along and, frankly, Doc Bio had a chance to end this before it even started.  He, at least, had to be dealt with now.

Because I could, I ran straight through the phantasm in front of me and cut in the direction of its stare.  There was a cry of alarm behind me and a sudden rush of air, all of it punctuated by what sounded disturbingly like a clap of thunder.  A mini-vacuum, I guessed.  The old cowboy was very clever.

"Dammit, you pacifist, it's the only way left now with open rebellion on -" Battalion ranted in the other room, a main foyer I was pretty sure, but cut himself on.  "Correction, open rebellion is right here."

That certainly sounded like my cue and I was already conveniently headed in that direction.  I lowered a shoulder and barreled down the door in my path like cheap plywood as my mind and body went into overdrive.  No matter how painful my last experience was, there was always a rush of euphoria when action called, when that sublime mental focus snapped into place.  Maybe pain-killers weren't my only addiction.

The scene that was taking place as we plunged into the room was civil but had all the makings of a Mexican stand-off.  On one side of the spacious foyer was Battalion, Wavelength, and a small cadre consisting of some of the other Crusaders that had been with him the other day.  In particular I picked out Dragon-Kick-Man (I'm proud of that one) and the human flamethrower that had tried to melt Polymer.  Of course, he had an extra baker's dozen of more 'him's as back-up.  It didn't take any knowledge of psychology to tell me that the collective aura they put off was one of raw aggression and frustration.

Opposite that lovely picture, Doc Bio, Gaslight, and their own assortment of Crusaders stared back across the invisible line of division separating the two groups.  I doubted it was a coincidence that most of the Crusaders among their number either used or were enhanced by Push Tech in some way.  A cyborg there, a woman in shining powered armor here, a man in a paramedic jumpsuit weighed down by a backpack and bandoliers of all kinds of gadgets based on medical equipment over there.  Though fewer in number, the mere presence of Bio, a mere step below Epic in power by my estimation, made their forces about equal.

Then there was us.

"How uncouth!" Gaslight sniffed.  "What happened to opening doors like a rational human being?"

"That is the issue, is it not, my friend?" Bio said.  "Rational thought and the desire for order seems to have left all of these people."

"Order?  Right, that's rich."  Battalion let out a short bark of a laugh.  "Your idea to keep order is with a bunch of crazy helmets that work for shit."  He gestured at the now-independent minded Atlanta Five.

"Better something that needs refinement than to rule through fear," Bio shook his head, as if addressing children.  "Your crude violence would not be tolerated by Lord Epic."

"Like he'd want you weak-willed maggots in charge?  We were ready for war in Washington, we're ready for war now.  Justice will prevail!"  There was something about this interplay that started a spark in my head.  What it was, I wasn't sure, but it seemed important.  As tempted as I was to interrupt the drama, I let it play out.  The Five seemed to take my lead and our Detroit friends did as well.

"Stuff a sock in it, both of you!"  Twister had quite the set of lungs on him.  "Y'all are both out of line.  You keep this up, you'll tear down this city and get a nuke dropped on our heads before you know it."  The Mighty Polymer puffed herself up and tried to look disapproving, though it looked more ridiculous than anything else.

"So says the traitors."  Gaslight's hand tightened on the handle of his Tesla rifle.  "As if anything you two say has any stock here."

"I hate to give Gassy any credit, but he's absolute right on this one," Wavelength purred as she shifted from her physical form to a rainbow specter.  "You know, Doc, maybe we should just deal with the -"

I had started to move when it became obvious that the wind was shifting, but I was surprised when Voltage jumped the gun entirely and directed a tremendous bolt of electricity at Wavelength, jarring and disrupting the light form of the rainbow warrior.  As much as I wanted to hear more, it certainly seemed like a brawl was inevitable.

My personal target was the one man who could turn this whole thing into a farce.  Doc Bio seemed a bit alarmed that the entire thing had degraded to violence so quickly and the only resistance to my sudden lunge was a chest full of lightning from Gaslight's Tesla gun.  You would think that a man so smart would have learned from our last encounter as I bit back the pain from the sharp static discharge, mostly unharmed as I drove a hard punch straight into Bio's chin.  His head snapped back and the bald-headed master of biology fell, stunned momentarily.

As I stepped forward to throw a hard punt to the good doctor's temple and take him out as a threat, the foyer around us exploded with the sudden violence of superhuman conflict.  This was going to spill out of here and then it was just a short matter of time before it was all-out war in the streets.  Which side would be the one to panic and bring that dome down first?  My kick turned out to be but a graze as a heavy form impacted me from the side.

The hard tackle brought me to the ground on my left arm, which twinged in pain before it was shunted away.  The four-armed cybernetic insect on top of me had a retiring gray-haired man at its core and, despite the grandfatherly look, all four arms with wicked blades rose up to tear me to bits.  Even if only two of those arms were real, there was enough strength behind them to put the hurt on.