Return to Hades, Part 3

Where did the air go?

Welcome to Olympus City, where super-powers, physics-defying tech, and unearthly creatures are all possible now. Human nature, however, remains unchanged.

No one is born a perfect superhero, but a few strive to live up to the ideal anyway.

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Previously: Ken and Alyssa returned to the former lair of Doctor Hades in search of a trespasser. But then, right as an argument erupted between them, the air got strangely thin.

Part 3

The air was gone. It vacated the self-storage facility, or at least the pocket around Alyssa and Ken. Their lungs refused to believe oxygen would abandon them like this. Each gasp was a plea for it to come back and give them another chance.

But the air wasn’t leaving of its own accord. It was leaving of that man’s accord, the grungy guy lurking near the furthest garage, holding a lockbox. Alyssa assumed as much, anyway. The golden coins over his ears blocked any telepathic verification. But she had learned not to trust the last man who wore those.

Even if he didn’t have those coins, the guy was too far away to blast his brain. She smacked Ken’s arm and pointed.

Ken understood. Despite his faltering concentration, he managed a sloppy telekinetic shove and slammed their attacker against a garage door. The lockbox crashed onto the pavement.

Oxygen rushed back to fill the void, replenishing their lungs as an apology for its absence.

Ken, panting, pulled the mask down over his mouth. “Are … you …”

“Fine!” Alyssa blurted out, also still catching her breath. “Coins.” She pointed, hoping that might be a sufficient explanation.

The ground rumbled and split apart. Jagged pavement sprang up, and Ken lifted himself and Alyssa away from the slashing blades of asphalt.

The water proved harder to evade. It gushed out of the open ground, walloped them, and, miraculously, changed direction. A torrential waterfall slammed Ken and Alyssa down and pinned them against cracked pavement. The waterfall, presumably, then took bets on whether it would crush them or drown them first.

The pressure relented. No, Alyssa realized. The pressure did not relent—Ken pushed back. The water poured around them, diverted by some invisible dome as Ken raised his arms like he was bench-pressing the heaviest set of barbells. Only a sprinkling slipped through his force. He had carved out a small underwater shelter, which would have seemed magical if not for his grunting and straining.

“Can you clear me an exit?” Alyssa asked, dripping wet.

“I’ll get us both out,” he snapped, loathing the idea of Alyssa facing this guy on her own.

“I’ll distract him, then you take him down.”

Ken regretted bringing her here, directly into harm’s way—he considered it inexcusably selfish. But he also knew full well he couldn’t have stopped Alyssa any more than he could dam this tide forever.

He thrust a hand over his head. More water trickled onto Alyssa as a narrow tunnel opened before her. She crawled through, hands splashing onto puddles, then gazed up the side of this man-made waterfall as it re-flooded her exit port.

She had expected more flooding outside the waterfall, even dangerous levels of flooding, but the water cycled through its own unnatural circuit, rising and crashing, rising and crashing. Barely an inch covered the ground in most places; the water drained through the cracks as the supply kept replenishing. She couldn’t see Ken within the waterfall, but his thoughts rang out clearly. He continued pushing against the torrent with all his might, locked in a stalemate.

Slipping the surgical mask back on, Alyssa squeezed through a gap between the waterfall and garage units, barely able to hear the splashing of her own footsteps. On the other side, she ducked behind a nearly vertical chunk of ripped-open pavement.

Their attacker advanced toward the waterfall, slowly, confidently, clutching that lockbox under his arm.

She couldn’t stand not knowing what that lockbox held. The man must have found the coins in there. Pinkney, apparently, had created extras—he had trusted Alyssa that much. She started to consider what else Pinkney deemed important enough to back up, then decided she hated speculation.

Alyssa slunk around and crept toward the man from behind. All she had to do was pluck the coins off his head, then fry his brain. She hadn’t used her power offensively since she stopped being the Silver Stranger, but she had no scruples about zapping this guy’s mind.

The duel with Ken preoccupied the man, who gave no reaction as Alyssa drew closer; he didn’t so much as glance to the side.

This guy needed to shower. His stringy hair hadn’t seen conditioner this year or perhaps last year either. Alyssa reached toward the coins.

The man whipped out a lighter and sparked it. A floating ring of fire spread around him, and Alyssa jumped back from the heat. The fire didn’t touch the man, wouldn’t touch him. It was guarding him.

“I know that’s Mr. Amazing under there.” He turned around, and dark, curious eyes bored into Alyssa. “But who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“Shut the water off,” Alyssa demanded.

The fire crackled. It danced on the air, independent of any fuel source. The man squinted at her.

“You must be the telepath Doctor Hades alluded to in his notes.” He tapped the side of his head. “I guess that means these things work. Unless you’re just a powerless civilian.”

While he spoke, Alyssa maneuvered her foot to scoop up a shard of asphalt. She flipped it into her hand, then pitched it at the man’s head.

The fire flared up, incinerated the projectile, and settled back down.

“Don’t do that,” he said.

Thick mud spewed out the cracks in the pavement and piled onto Alyssa, hardening around her.

No!

It buried her up to the shoulders, prohibiting all movement below the neck. She held her head high and forced her panic down.

“What’s in the box?” she asked.

“Instructions for creating monsters—just the creatures we need to shake society out of its complacency. But don’t worry. You won’t be alive to see it. You superheroes have too simplistic a worldview for my vision. Best to just get you out of everyone’s way.”

“I’m not a superhero. But once I get those coins off your head, you’ll wish I was.”

The man chuckled. “Goodbye.”

The fire disappeared, and the man extended his arms and raised his palms. The garage units on both sides lifted as the earth ripped apart beneath the pavement. It was all about to fold in on itself and bury Alyssa.

And all she could do was squirm within her muddy prison.

What the hell was I thinking coming here?

She was right—she was no superhero. She was going to die.

Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut, ashamed of her fear as the shadows closed in, until she remembered—her job was to distract this man, split his focus. The waterfall wasn’t quite as loud now.

A thought echoed in her brain: I’m coming.

Ken splashed through the water and landed by Alyssa’s side. Stretching his hands out, he shoved the debris back, and it all came crashing down around them, leaving them both unscathed.

“The coins,” Alyssa said. “On his head.”

Ken flicked his wrist, and the gold coins flew off the man’s ears.

Alyssa entered his mind and stabbed it with the totality of her telepathic power. The man cried out, his concentration shattered, his hold on the water severed.

The water, however many thousands of gallons, dropped straight down and flooded the facility. Ken threw his hands up and parted this new river, sparing not only himself and Alyssa but also their attacker. Because that’s the kind of superhero Mr. Amazing was.

Alyssa, meanwhile, exploited the opportunity. She dove further into their opponent’s brain to glean whatever information she could—until the man squeezed a fist and the mud climbed up her neck, where it hardened. She could barely breathe.

But she could hear Ken, could hear the tempest boiling within him as he squeezed his own fists.

An invisible force struck the man, knocking him flat on the ground. Ken immediately regretted not hitting him harder.

The man retaliated at once—he projected a tight blast of gale-force wind at Ken, shoving him backward before he could unleash another telekinetic blow.

But Ken pushed back, employing his own power to divert the wind. Much of it still cut through, creating ample resistance. Nevertheless, Ken strode forth.

You will not hurt my friend.

The villain ramped up the intensity. Fear flashed across the man’s eyes as they reflected the blank mask.

Ken punched him straight in the face, a perfect cross.

His fist stung on impact. Solid, delicious pain. Shaking it out, Ken waved his other hand at Alyssa. She gulped the air as telekinesis shattered the dried mud around her neck. And their opponent had just enough time to get his bearings.

Stronger winds pounded them and carried the man straight up, the lockbox securely in his grasp.

Ken reached toward the lockbox, and it flew out of the man’s hands.

Slimy mud climbed back up Alyssa’s face, slithered into her nostrils, and continued making its way to her panicked eyes.

“Rescue the girl, Mr. Amazing. I’ve got a whole world to save.”

The last thing Alyssa saw, before darkness consumed everything, was a waterspout lifting the lockbox into the man’s grasp.

Alyssa held her breath, imploring herself to remain calm while buried alive, begging herself to remember that Ken was right outside the darkness. She didn’t need telepathy to know what he’d do.

Light struck her pupils as she gasped and ripped the surgical mask off. Ken swept his arms to the sides, flinging every last trace of mud and dirt off her.

The man was gone. The self-storage facility was a disaster area—demolished garages, torn-up pavement, water draining through numerous cracks.

“That lockbox he was carrying,” Alyssa started. She was about to explain how the man intended to re-create the monsters Pinkney had previously unleashed, but Ken’s mind transmitted a note of satisfaction. “What did you do?”

“Shredded all the documents. Telekinetically, of course.” He looked at the sky, which had settled down considerably since the man’s departure. “Who was that guy?”

“I only picked out one name: Terran. Total misanthrope. Sees himself as a revolutionary. That’s about all I got. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry I let him get away.”

“Hey, you saved me and foiled his plan. Not exactly a loss.”

Ken surveyed the wreckage, and his eyes locked onto the pair of glinting coins. He summoned them into his hands.

I’d never have to worry about Alyssa prying again.

Alyssa opened her mouth, about to give him permission to do whatever made him comfortable.

But then both coins crumpled into tiny, useless balls, and Ken flicked them away with a thought.

“We need to dry off,” he said, smiling under the mask. “I think a flight through the warm night sky might help with that.”

Alyssa returned her own small smile, finding no need to hide it behind a mask. “Flying sounds good.”

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Next: The Spectator