Chapter 10
The tunnel was very, very dark. Also surprisingly clean. As my headlamp illuminated the passageway, I was struck by how little debris there was. You'd expect an underground tunnel system that covered a good portion of the city to be full of garbage and waste. It certainly wasn't spotless, but I guessed that complete darkness, and myths of monsters down here, kept most people out.
My headlamp provided the light I needed to move. My visor's HUD had low-light enhancement, but it still required some light to work, and down here there was none. Just black.
I also carried a flashlight that projected a purple beam of black light. I used it to scan the walls for arrows. I'd weighed the options: coming in where I saw Ronnie enter, or approaching from a nearby access point for a sneakier entry.
I chose the same entrance.
Whatever advantage I might gain from another route was dwarfed by the risk of getting lost down here. So I followed the path, pushing past where I'd stopped on my last visit. Every so often, a pink arrow confirmed I was going the right way.
I hadn't run into anyone yet. I knew that wouldn't last. For now, my only company was the echo of my own footsteps.
The tunnel system was mostly straight hallways, broken up by turns and intersections at random intervals. There were very few curves. Some areas still looked like the abandoned subway system they once were. Others were unmistakably shaped by superpowers.
I heard them just before I rounded the corner.
Two deep voices, complaining about the game last night. One of them sounded like he'd lost a large bet.
I turned my light off and crept toward the corner. Down the next hallway, its far end swallowed by darkness, was something new: a reinforced door with a light above it, and two guards standing on either side.
They were clearly bored. Talking. Laughing. Doing absolutely nothing to stay vigilant.
I watched them for a moment and figured I could get pretty close without being noticed. If I could drop them fast enough, I might get inside without raising the alarm.
I tried.
They spotted me when I was still about halfway there, around twenty-five meters.
"Hey, who's that?" the first one said.
"Eh, we expecting a delivery?" the one who'd lost the bet asked.
"Not from this door, you dolt!"
That was my opening. I can't lose any more momentum.
I rushed forward, raised my left palm, and triggered the pulse emitter.
My arm jerked as a nearly invisible blue wave left my hand and crossed the distance. It worked. Both men clutched the sides of their heads and collapsed to their knees, disoriented and groaning. If I'd been closer, it might've knocked them out completely.
I wasn't.
As I ran past, I kicked the first guard and stopped long enough to punch the second. Both went limp. If they had powers, durability wasn't one of them.
I turned my attention to the door.
It was a heavy metal slab with a padlock and an intercom mounted beside it. Very out of place compared to the rest of the tunnels.
I grabbed the handle and pulled.
"Of course it's locked," I muttered, more annoyed that I'd expected anything else.
I scanned the door again, then glanced at the two unconscious guards.
"Maybe I shouldn't have taken both of you out…"
The intercom crackled to life.
"Ah… Mr. Superhero?" a young voice said. Nervous. "Can you just leave? We're protected here, and we haven't done anything. No crimes."
"Do I look like a cop who needs a warrant?" I asked the little metal box.
"Superheroes need warrants too," the voice replied.
"They do?" I muttered. I honestly hadn't known that.
As I searched for another option, something clicked, something I'd missed earlier.
A camera.
Mounted opposite the door.
Another stupid mistake. No wonder they knew I was here
The intercom went silent. Waiting.
First thing I did was walk over and rip the camera out of the wall.
Second thing I did was kick the door as hard as I could.
Ow.
The impact rang up my leg, the door reverberating like a struck bell, but it didn't budge. Still, I wasn't walking away just because it was locked.
I kicked it again.
And again.
Then I pulled my blaster. I guessed where the hinges were and fired. It took two shots to burn through the thick metal.
After I'd punched three glowing red holes through the door, I kicked it again.
This time, it moved.
Five more kicks widened the gap enough for me to squeeze through.
On the other side, a line of armed guards was already waiting for me.
A line of them, maybe eight in total
Pointed assault rifles at me.
Almost as one, opened fire.
Those rounds were bigger and faster than the caliber Ringmaster had used. My body jerked as the suit took the hits. Nothing penetrated, but that didn't stop the kinetic energy from transferring through the armor.
I primed the pulse emitter and fired it into the group. The effect was immediate and familiar. All but the two on either end dropped, clutching their heads.
The remaining pair glanced at their stunned partners, then started to reload.
I raised my blaster and fired at the one on the right. I missed twice before the third shot caught him in the shoulder, dropping him with a scream.
I pulled the trigger again, aimed at the last guard.
Nothing.
Was I already at nine?
I ran forward, shoving the blaster back into its holster. The remaining guard finished reloading and opened fire, but this time I didn't slow. I drove my shoulder into him.
He went flying backward, rolled once, and lay still.
The rest of the group was already starting to recover.
I checked the pulse emitter.
The little red light answered for it.
No.
The stun was wearing off fast. Whether it was distance or poor calibration didn't matter.
What mattered was that they were reaching for their rifles again.
I scooped up a dropped weapon and pulled the trigger.
I held it until it clicked empty.
I let it fall.
That hadn't been part of the plan.
But I did what I had to.
Now it was time for Ratking.
I pushed deeper into the hideout. It was a maze of short hallways and poorly planned rooms, confusing and inefficient. Sometimes the only way forward was straight through storage spaces,crates, weapons, half-packed bags, before another corridor opened up.
I ran into a few more guards. They all seem preoccupied with boxes or cases. Were they already looting?
They didn't slow me down.
Where was he? I asked myself, letting the frustration leak out. I'd found Ringmaster within minutes of entering that warehouse, but I hadn't even caught a glimpse of that long, naked tail.
I didn't really know what Ratking looked like beyond a mugshot. I didn't even know what his power was. When I'd looked it up, the best answer I found was "rat-like powers."
What the hell does that even mean? He eats trash and has rabies?
As I entered another large room, I stopped.
Two things made this one stand out.
First, it looked like a staging area. Boxes stacked on pallets, clearly either inbound or ready to move out.
Second, and far more noticeable, two of what had to be Ratking's "royal guard" stood in the center of the room.
One was a lean man in a black suit, green hair slicked back. The other looked like a single mass of stone shaped into something vaguely human.
"So you're the one causing all the noise?" the green-haired one asked.
"Boss says to deal with you," the other said, his voice like rocks grinding together.
I pulled out my blaster. "Where's your boss?"
"Not how this works," the rock man said.
So I shot him.
Well; tried to. The blast sailed harmlessly over his head.
They reacted instantly.
The green-haired guy leapt into the air as jets of green energy erupted from his feet, launching him into the open space above the room.
The rock man charged straight at me.
I leveled the blaster and took a second to aim. I missed the first shot. The second hit. Dust and chunks of stone exploded from the impact.
The rock man grunted and stumbled to the ground.
As he pushed himself back up, I saw a chunk of stone missing from his chest, bloody skin exposed beneath.
"Motherfucker," he growled.
Even as I watched, the stone began creeping back over the wound.
I raised the blaster again. A few more shots should put him down—
A green bolt slammed into my side, knocking my aim wide.
The green-haired one streaked through the air, firing bolts of emerald energy from each hand.
I raised my arm to shield my face as the blasts hammered into me. They hurt, but they weren't cracking the armor.
I lifted my blaster as he zipped overhead—
A rocky hand clamped around my wrist.
I cried out, mostly in surprise, as my arm was twisted and the blaster went skidding uselessly across the floor.
"No more of that," the rock man growled.
Needing to get out of his grasp, I swung with my left and triggered a hard hit. The rock man's head snapped back, cracks spiderwebbing out from the point of impact. But even as I took in the damage, I saw the fractures already closing.
"I felt that," he said. I heard a laugh mixed in.
The green guy zipped overhead as the rock man grabbed my other arm and hurled me to the ground.
I tried to get back up, but he came down on me and forced me flat. He started to restrain me, bending my limbs into painful angles. I struggled, but the suit didn't care how it was twisted.
I did.
I found myself pinned in a position where the suit refused to bend past the limits I'd installed and the rock man kept forcing it anyway, trying to snap me inside it.
"Hey, James!" the rock man shouted up at his partner as he flew overhead. "You think this piñata's got candy in it?"
"Oh, I think it's a turkey," James laughed, zipping past again.
I struggled, but I was twisted into a position that gave me no leverage at all. I couldn't do anything useful, just writhe and slap my left hand uselessly against the floor.
I had to do something. I hissed through clenched teeth, pain and frustration bleeding together. My left hand was free—but it could only reach the ground.
My blaster was gone. The pulse emitter wouldn't help against rock even if I could aim it. My own strength wasn't enough.
Desperate, I slammed my palm flat and triggered the hard hit.
The sudden recoil twisted me free, spinning my body and throwing the rock man off balance. I hit the floor on my back and scrambled to rise before he could pin me again.
Three more green bolts hit me in rapid succession, forcing me down into a sitting position.
Then my time ran out.
A rockslide slammed into me, driving me flat against the floor.
I cried out in pain and shock as I was pinned again. The rock man wrenched my right arm across my chest and planted his weight on my left bicep, crushing it into the ground.
I clenched my teeth, breath hitching as panic went cold and heavy.
I'm going to lose.
"Nu-uh. You don't get to leave until I'm done playing with you."
The rock man leaned down, almost face to face with me. I thought he was going to make another quip, but instead he drove his rocky forehead straight into my visor.
I struggled uselessly as he slammed into me again, my vision filling with spots. My left hand flailed in vain, trying to shield my head.
Dazed and losing, I switched the pulse emitter to armor-bypass mode.
It had to work this time.
"Had enough?" he asked, pausing just to mock me.
It was the only opportunity I got.
I took it.
My vision was so full of spots I had to grab his head just to be sure I was aiming correctly.
Then I triggered the armor bypass.
I felt the vibration in my shoulder as it surged up my arm, but more importantly, the rock man reacted.
His head snapped back. He screamed and clawed at the side of his skull.
He collapsed to the floor, thrashing, both hands clamped to his head.
Then the stone peeled away from his face.
He vomited.
The vomit came up dark red.
He stayed on his hands and knees, coughing and making a sound like a wounded animal.
Then he looked up at me.
His eyes were unfocused, swimming, and that's when recognition hit.
Ronnie.
Blood steamed from his ears and leaked from the corners of his eyes.
If the bypass had hit him the way it hit my arm, then he was tougher than I'd thought, even without the stone.
I didn't waste the opportunity. I forced myself up, fast and unsteady. This time, I expected the bolts and took them on my knees.
As soon as they stopped, I was moving again—straight toward Ronnie.
"Ronnie, get up! He needs a bit longer!" James shouted.
"He needs longer?" I said.
Ronnie looked up just as I reached him.
I didn't hesitate. I drove several punches into his exposed face.
More bolts slammed into me, forcing me back. James zipped overhead, raining a storm of green energy down. As I staggered under the assault, I saw Ronnie push himself back to his feet. Slowly, his bloody face vanished behind a reforming mask of stone.
I was about to lose the advantage. James couldn't hover, I could use that. He had to keep moving. I charged the pulse emitter again.
As James zipped overhead, keeping the barrage coming, I guessed when he entered the emitter's range and triggered the pulse.
James let out a yelp of pain and went tumbling to the ground.
I didn't have time to watch him crash. Ronnie was already on me.
This time, the exchange was in my favor. Ronnie was slower, less coordinated.
But the fight was taking too long.
I could feel an unseen clock ticking.
I closed the distance, planted my hand against his chest, and triggered the pulse. The vibration surged up my shoulder again.
This time, the reaction was muted. Ronnie jerked as if punched in the gut, then crumpled to the ground without another word.
I turned to see James struggling to stand where he'd crashed. I scanned the floor for my blaster.
There!
Not far away.
I ran for it, and was nearly bowled over as a stream of bolts crashed into me like a tide. It was faster and harder than before. James was kneeling with both arms extended; he must hit harder when he wasn't spending energy flying.
He couldn't fire forever.
The stream stopped.
I'd been forced down to one knee, but I steadied myself, raised the blaster with both hands, and fired.
The bolt struck James just right of center in the gut. He cried out and doubled over.
I checked the blaster.
Two shots left.
I got back to my feet and walked slowly toward James's smoking body. When I was only a few meters away, he sat up, his jacket and shirt burned away, revealing a damaged vest underneath, and fired. The bolt clipped me just above my right eye.
I staggered back a few steps, then refocused. James was clutching his injured side.
"You're too late, hero boy," he coughed.
His hand came up again, but this time I was ready.
We traded bolts once more. I was forced back a step or two. He was flattened to the floor and didn't get back up.
I stood over James and looked down. That vest had almost completely stopped my shot. Kevlar couldn't do that.
I ripped a section free and dropped it into a container on my hip.
I looked around.
The place was suddenly very quiet. Too quiet. Like an empty vault.
A sudden, sinking realization hit me.
I'd missed something important.
I turned and rushed deeper into the hideout.
Room after room came up empty.
There were boxes, crates, weapons, and suitcases scattered here and there, but it was obvious without checking that everything important was gone.
I pushed into another room and stopped.
There was nothing inside except a bed shoved into the corner. One of the cheap wire-frame kinds, dirty sheets tangled across it.
A single handcuff was locked around a woman's ankle.
I moved quickly to the bed.
I expected frightened eyes. Or a corpse.
Instead, the tan-skinned woman looked up at me with irritation. Almost… disapproval.
That shifted to confusion as she took in the suit.
"You're not the DET agent," she said flatly.
"No," I said, trying to remember what DET even stood for. "Why are you here?"
"Will you just get me out of this restraint?" she snapped, cutting me off. "There are people here, and I'm not letting him escape with them if I can stop it."
She threw off the dirty blanket and pointed sharply at her leg.
That was when I noticed she was wearing nothing but underwear and an undershirt.
I broke the cuff off her ankle.
The real surprise came immediately after.
The second she was free, she rolled off the bed and hit the floor, then started dragging herself forward with her arms.
"Come on," she grunted, hauling her useless legs behind her. "They were held just across the hallway. Sometimes, when both doors were open, I could see them."
I didn't know how to react to this woman.
So I did what she wanted.
I stepped past her, grabbed the handle of the door she was reaching for, and pulled it open.
The room was empty.
There were signs people had been there. Signs they hadn't been treated well. Torn clothing. Stains on the floor. Metal anchor points bolted into the concrete at regular intervals.
No one else was here.
"No!" the woman shouted as she dragged herself in behind me. She slammed her fists against the floor.
Back in the hallway, I noticed another door, one that looked very similar to the entrance I'd used.
I opened it.
A waterway stretched out beyond the threshold. A narrow dock ran along the edge, with space for several boats.
Only one remained.
It was burning.
I looked up and down the passage, the water reflecting flickering orange light, and that buzzing sense of unease I'd felt ever since James went down finally sharpened into something clear.
He got away.
With everything important.
I hadn't even seen him.
I stood in the tunnel for what felt like a long time before walking back and finding the woman on her back in the holding room.
"What took you so long?" she asked as soon as I stepped into her field of view. "They sounded the alarm ages before you showed up. How did they have that much warning?"
I didn't really know how to respond. "I went as quickly—"
"Didn't you check for exits? Why were they able to leave unbothered?"
"How would I?"
She seemed to deflate.
Her head thumped back against the floor. "God damn it."
Something in her voice cracked, just for a moment.
"They still have my brother."
I stood there, feeling stupid.
More stupid.
"I think everyone's gone," I said. I expected some kind of sarcastic remark.
She just rolled her head to look up at me.
"I can get you out," I said, starting to crouch down to pick her up.
"No."
I froze.
"No," she repeated. "I think it's best if I stay here for a little while." She took a breath. "Just call the police and tell them there's an injured person. They'll come quickly."
I stood over her. She looked as broken as I felt.
"I can at least get you off the floor," I said. "Put you on the bed—"
"I never want to go near that bed again. You hear me?"
The force in her voice silenced me.
She relaxed after a moment.
I stood there but eventually, I left.
I walked back the way I'd come, grabbing every flashlight I could find. I ripped them off guns when I had to.
One of the suitcases had fallen over and split open. Cash spilled across the floor. A second case lay nearby.
I picked them up and looked inside.
A lot of money stared back at me.
It felt wrong.
I took them anyway.
I used the flashlights to mark a path back through the hideout and pulled out a burner phone I'd brought for exactly this reason.
I left with the money.