True Heroes (34 page)

              Caleb froze his eyes between the blinds. The scene hit his eyes continuously: a massive pool of blood splashed over a corner of the room while a slumped pair of broken shoulders seemed shoved beneath with nothing but remnants of neck and no head garishly revealing reality. He slowly turned, still crouched below the ledges, and—‘Grey brain-matter exploded across the entire side of the room, discoloration of breasts, shoulders, wrists, broken shins….’ Her naked body held no peaceful lot of more than a few centimeters amongst the canvas of skin, every inch looking contorted and violated to the extent of torture.

              “Splat.”

              The sound turned his head back to his feet, noticing a small drop of blood coming from his overly-clenched hand. His unconscious disgust had curled his fingernails as far as they’d go into his palm. Caleb unfurled his fingers, and was shaken from his observations by a massive thwack. He gripped the sack again and hefted himself over the edge, to the ground, and down the steep slope at the tree line. Both he and his power saw no reason to rush as they jogged along, Caleb letting his mind circle some missing puzzle piece like a ravenous buzzard. ‘What could’ve had the strength—?’

              Caleb’s mind and body stopped on a dime.

              Logical connections snapped together. His power expanded, revealing a smirking vision of the likely culprit. “I’m so tired because…what the hell did you do?”

              Even when fully expecting the callously frigid calm of his power’s voice, the subject in which Power dipped its rhythmically distorted tones had Caleb’s spine in shivers. “I punished her.”

              “You punished her? She never did a single thing to deserve punishment from you!”

              Power closed its eyes and shut itself off from Caleb’s furiously probing mind, no doubt recalling the memory as if it were paved with gold and honey. “She didn’t heed our warning.” Its shoulder fizzled as it pushed off the edge of the field, its confident feet repeating their noise with every step towards Caleb. “My eyes lit up the dark room while you slept, your shell serving me as a handy vessel. I appeared at her backdoor, gentle and calm in appearance while she covered her naked body with a towel. She talked. She wouldn’t stop talking. It was senseless thanks and babbles of flirtatious advances for minutes and minutes until she kissed your lips. I kept my eyes on her and made sure your lips didn’t move. She dropped her towel, tried to violate you and taint me. Her head slammed into the mirror first. She didn’t seem quite so…eager after that.” Caleb could feel sweat trickling down his head and neck, and imagined it was the blood from the shattered glass. “I only hit her four more times. Her body was rather fragile. The first two were to each bosom, respectively.” He could feel his chest snapping inward. “The third was an uppercut to her whorish, still-expecting pubic region.” His lower stomach and hips felt the momentary pressure of Power’s punch. “The final punch was nothing more than a jab, her fragile skull and lesser, moronic brain painted over the drab walls. It was all easier than I ever thought it would be. Like a cool glass of water on a hot day.”

              Caleb had a headache as he clenched his fist, reopening all the old, rancid wounds he’d thought had healed.

              “You know, I might take my time with the world now. End it all one life at a time…that way we could still have the scenery for you. I could teach them, show them what went wrong with their lives before it ends forever. Won’t that be a blast?”

              Every muscle under Caleb’s control relaxed and flashed back into movement in a moment, charging through his projected image and through a medium sized tree. The thirty-foot birch crashed through other branches as Caleb stuck his hand out and rotated his body into a crouch, slowly sliding to a stop. His eyes sent glowing thorns of power flying at the surprised manifestation’s eyes. “I won’t let you do it. You’re nothing but a sickness with a God-complex.”

              His power flashed and its hand was around Caleb’s throat, a look of bemusement curbing its expression. “How did you manage to use me? This power isn’t yours or even ours. I am the power.”

              Caleb felt his brain fogging from his tightened windpipe, even as something in his heart forced his determination to push out more and more power. His hands clasped around Power’s wrist as both entities continued to get stronger, a smile forming across Caleb’s face despite his clouding eyes. “I guess,” he took a deep breath to finish the thought, “I’m not ready to give up yet.”

              Both grips tightened to the point where Caleb’s air came in high wheezes and Power’s hand dimmed, the energy radiating into his expanding grasp more and more. “You think you can overpower me? You think your small will is any match for my unyielding destructive force? I’ll show you how small a dust particle you truly are to this giant!”

              The entire energy paradigm suddenly changed. Power sucked everything it still had access to and pushed Caleb in one large blast. They both flew through the trees, between the leafy branches and fleeing wild life. The unsuspecting police officers attempting a pursuit were blown back as if by an airplane engine as Power wrestled for temporary control of the body, the mental battle beginning as they landed and raced for a handful of seconds. Power evacuated Caleb, leaving enough momentum to send his body into the first tree of a new forest line.

              Caleb tumbled into the trunk, quickly recovering and allowing his eyes to gather strategic areas. The grassy field was empty minus a large rock ten yards off and a slightly raised cliff some yards behind it. Power extended and floated to the top of the rock, Caleb feeling certain that neither geographical feature would help him against another attack. “On your feet, dust mite!”

              He hopped to his feet and into the unfiltered sun as his thoughts and control resumed their defensive campaign. “What do you think you’re doing?”

              “I’m showing you that I don’t need your damned permission to make all of my dreams come true. Whatever reason you’re hanging on to hope will not save the bright world from its cataclysmic end any longer. My power is mine, not yours.” The entire clearing filled with very blue energy, revealing his enemy in the proverbial flesh. “I am a storm: a typhoon of current and force that breeds chaos and death!” Caleb felt a coarsely cold sweat run down his neck. “And you…you are exoskeletal waste turning to dust in the wind. Dust in a typhoon. Take your rightful place amongst your dusty brethren and be thrown into the torrents of my power!”

              Its words released everything. The wind rushing away from the epicenter of the field fulfilled the promise of a typhoon as Caleb had to redirect a bit of energy to keep his footing. His mind was off-guard, allowing Power to gust him against a tree as everything else was flung for miles. Caleb regained his frame and could only muster a breathless stare at the center of the enraged entity. The blue outlines around the clearing pulled into a single column around Power’s incensed body, going as high as it could push while the blue began to deepen. The green field was enflamed in a darkening blue light as adrenaline surged through Caleb’s body. The column kept shrinking and shrinking, keeping only a basin large enough for Power to stand, and running through the shades of purple. A thin line was above Power’s head; the slice of near-black barely thicker than a pencil shot upward. The sky seemed creased as it split spherical blue into opposing hemispheres while the blackness embodied the coaled pits of a lightless deep. The new spine of the sky began to spread apart, air and disturbed debris flowing back into the field through the well of black ascent. The objects were nearly buoyant in their dismal flight, all springing for the spreading black hole.

              Caleb held his ground. “How am I still here?” His voice carried in a blue wave that dissipated into the blackness before anyone could chance a listen. “I’ve seen this before. This is what you’ve been dreaming about. This is how you’re going to destroy the world.”

              Caleb began to run towards the figure, feeling strength build inside him again. “Dust in a typhoon,” his power yelled again, stopping Caleb dead. His eyes closed and his concentration flexed to its highest degree, his innards feeling the intense pressure of meeting the demands his fullest power always required. Caleb reasoned, rationalized, logically connected, and strong-armed his thoughts and feelings away from Power enough to gain more minority control. In a fraction of a second, Caleb flashed to the front of its encapsulated body, having wrestled enough power for the move, and felt the blackened hole above him nearly reach for his head with blue, carnivorous teeth. His hands quickly went to Power’s shell and his concentration resumed its battle. Power bombarded Caleb’s mind with images; his mother’s empty eyes, his father’s gaping mouth tearing at sanity’s fabric, Carol’s eyes flashing a demon’s dream of flaming justice that is and only could be Caleb’s death, Thomas Fink wasting his life, all screamed in Power’s echoed, multi-sourced voice, “You couldn’t save us, you can’t save them.” Their infinite coil of might, circulating through Caleb’s pain and guilt like acidic lava, infuriating his mind, could only serve as fuel, blazing his metaphorical throat raw to drown them out just long enough to gain the majority of the power back.

              He opened his eyes and walked through the protective barrier, seeing Power, its head thrown back and a furious scream being blanked by the disappearing black crease. Its eyes rolled back in its phantom head; it felt his essence simply pushing its desire aside. The black abyss soon stalled its mission, sensing, as the two beneath it had, the tide had turned. Blackness folded back in until the line was thin again, dripping and oiling the radiant blue of Power’s shell. Caleb stepped back outside the capsule before the blue was blotted, its livid, disgraced eyes disappearing behind the thick curtain. Its screaming vibrated against the spherical cage as Caleb, his dominance cemented, shrank the cell further and further. Two hand imprints suddenly appeared in the black lining. It snatched ravenously and pushed with everything it had left, fingers as talons, clawing and stretching the field towards Caleb’s face with a grasp meant to rip. The right hand came close enough to Caleb’s face for him to smell the burning air unlucky enough to run across his power’s unhindered fury. It attempted to rip away the control from Caleb, but he knew the world wouldn’t survive that. Knew he must survive it. Power’s charred snow globe stopped vibrating as Caleb stepped forward, letting everything absorb back into his body.

              ‘I won’t be ruled by you!’

              “Fine.” Caleb talked aloud. “But you will never be apart from me either—”

              Hard thumps suddenly tore the air away from the brawling couple. Caleb had enough time to look up before feeling hot pain in his right shoulder and arm. He spun to the ground, feeling the sear of physical discomfort for the first time in a long time, and caught the outline of something black in the sky. His teeth grit hard and his finger tips dug into the soft ground, pulling his senses together through the confusion of the attack. The grass was on its side as wind inundated its will forcefully from above. ‘Helicopter, at least eight people and ten guns…doubt they’re in the question asking mood.’ Caleb rolled to his back in time for the bird to acknowledge its target was alive and for it to begin another pass.

              Above him suddenly appeared his power, standing with a very dim hue on its skin. “On your feet. We don’t have enough left to beat them head-on.”

              Power’s voice had returned to a calming, calculating tone, which encouraged where it terrified minutes ago. Caleb obeyed as his temporary partner deflected another barrage of bullets into the ground. Power leapt back inside his body and they both took off for the trees as fast as they could muster. A second helicopter came from the east, apparently for surveillance purposes, and wholly failed in that capacity. Caleb and his inner entity could change directions on a dime, instantly choosing or rejecting new possible escape routes with their constant communication while a helicopter pilot was helpless to follow. He kept the zigzagging as unpredictable as possible, but soon saw the end of their tree cover coming quickly. Caleb skittered to a stop a few trees away from the edge and backed up, feeling a bullet soak into his energy from behind. Power showed him the view through closed eyes. Six armored and armed men had dropped from the helicopter at some point and were closing in on him in a fanned pattern. Both helicopters flew overhead and turned away back towards Caleb as a fixation. He was boxed not by them but by the weakness in his legs and growing buzz in his head. Both him and his power conferenced their ideas while remaining alert.

              ‘Could we break through the men?’

              ‘We’re at a tenth of our strength. We couldn’t block all the bullets and we’d be heading into reinforcements. Any more blood from you and you’ll just be easier to track.’

              Caleb felt his arm pang with flowing warmth. ‘Not enough power to heal it?’

              Another bullet barely missed the crouching conference. ‘Given the situation, no.’ Power slapped a grenade back towards the thrower. ‘Look at their goggles: night vision, thermal, infrared, and B.T.”

              Caleb ripped his shirt and tied a quick knot around his shoulder, hearing the approaching copters whip closer and closer. ‘B.T.?’

              ‘Blood Tracker. They must’ve found some of your DNA at the hotel. It tracks blood trails, like the one we’re leaving. We’re conspicuous on thermal as well.’