Chapter 5 #2
Cryptic. He was the last one at the table to beat around the bush. But when Chad stopped by the table, taking the cold cup of coffee, replacing it with a new one, complete with steam, he finally looked up. He worked himself to the bone, but the circles around his eyes spoke volumes.
“And then he predicted how I was going to finish him, and what do you know, he was right.”
Shaking my head, I glared at Alejandro, who, in his usual self-indulgent way, missed reading the room. “Big guy, what’s going on? First rule of—”
“Just a lot on my mind. Work has been rough this morning. It was an all-hands-on-deck situation after yesterday. The Centurions barely made it in time. It’ll be another long day as we go through the casualties and reach out to the families.”
“You call the families?” I assumed the Centurions were like the rest, swoop in, save the day, then sign a few photos before heading back to their posh base of operations. Knowing they contacted the families made me hate them a little less.
“Each and everyone.” That was the perk of being a paramedic.
There was no doubt about my abilities in the ambulance, and I rarely thought about the patient after the fact.
Every once in a while, I considered the specific ailments and what I could have done better, but it was about the medicine, not the patient.
I rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You’re good people, Bernard.”
“Well,” Griffin started, “I have some news that will perk up the table.” So help me God, if he announced a comic book release day again, I might very well slap him.
“Xander…” He turned to face me. “Our dear, dear friend Xander—”
“Griffin.” The last person in the world I should have entrusted with a secret. I skipped thinking about how I’d kill him and focused on how I’d dispose of his body.
“Has himself a crush.”
Alejandro let out a dramatic gasp. “Like a ‘go out on a date’ crush or ‘I want to treat his ass like a buffet’ crush?”
Even Bernard sipped his coffee with one eye in my direction. With a swift motion, I kicked Griffin under the table. Next time he joined me in the pool, I’d drown him. Being a paramedic, I could kill him and dispose of the body before anybody noticed he was missing.
“Ohhh.” Alejandro’s eyes went wide as he sat back. “He’s doing that murdery thing again. It’s a ‘go out to dinner’ crush.”
“Stop calling him a crush.” I banged my fist on the table harder than expected. All three leaned back at the burst of anger. They held their tongues, waiting for me to process my actions.
“That was loud,” I mumbled. “Sorry about that. But Alejandro…” I flung a sugar packet at him. “It’s not a crush.”
“The table says otherwise,” Bernard said before diving into his coffee again. Leave it to my catastrophic love life to bring the man back to reality.
“I was at the bridge yesterday, and, well, I nearly died.”
“Get past the boring parts,” Griffin said.
“The bridge gave out under me, and I was hanging over the river by a piece of rebar.”
“Drama,” Alejandro added, “I love it.”
Another kick under the table. He pushed his chair out of reach. He grabbed his avocado toast and started chomping. Sticking something in his mouth was the only way to pause the quips.
“Get on with it,” Griffin said. “You were about to die and…”
Death. Hanging over the water, the chances of survival were almost zero, but I didn’t think about dying. It wasn’t a superhero that dove to save me. It was an ordinary man. Okay, maybe he wasn’t all that ordinary.
“Out of nowhere, a hand reached out. It was this guy I bumped into on the bridge. He was there trying to get a story, I think. If it wasn’t for him, I’m pretty sure I would have… died.”
“So now you’re going to reward him with some sweet loving?”
I lied. Alejandro wouldn’t let a full mouth slow him down.
The thought had certainly crossed my mind. However, unlike Alejandro, my activities in the bedroom didn’t get discussed as if they were the morning news. I wasn’t a prude. I just didn’t like everybody knowing how often I did… or didn’t get laid.
“I owe him a thank you.”
“And…” Not only was I going to drown Griffin, but I’d go after everybody in his family, too. Nobody would survive, thanks to his insistence on making me say it out loud.
“He wasn’t harsh on the eyes.”
All three of them smiled, grins stretching from ear to ear. Nope, I would not blush. There was no way I was going to let them know I had already thought about Aiden writhing underneath me.
“Is that his murder face?” asked Alejandro.
“No, that’s more of a scrunched-up brow.” Great, when Griffin and Alejandro got going, there was no stopping them.
“You mean like this?” Alejandro scrunched up his face.
Bernard joined the mockery. “No, it’s more like this.”
“Bernard,” I growled. The man’s scrunched-up face was dangerously accurate. I had to give him props. “Okay, that’s not a terrible impression.”
Griffin derailed their mocking and pointed to my work pants. “I thought they told you to take some time off. Are you going in?”
“I’m going in to change their minds.”
Bernard put his hand on my wrist, a signature move that he was about to say something I should take to heart.
“Maybe you need to take a few days off. It wouldn’t hurt after the mayhem yesterday.
” Even though he spoke to me, the words seemed to be directed toward himself.
How bad had it been at Centurion headquarters?
“That’s weird.” We all turned to Chad standing at the counter holding the Zipper’s metal thermos. Like clockwork, the speedster arrived every morning to pick up his coffee before a day of heroing.
“He’s never late,” Griffin muttered.
That was my exit before Griffin started spitting out statistics about how fast Zipper could run. Standing up, I finished my coffee and tossed some money on the table.
“Wish me luck.”
“Make sure you use plenty of lube, big boy.”
I flipped off Alejandro as I exited the HideOut.
Staring at the text message with Aiden’s phone number, I was surprised by how quickly Sebastian had relayed the information to Griffin.
With gay men, they worked at lightning speed when they sniffed a potential connection.
Between Aiden’s number and the paycheck in my pocket, it made the awkward conversation with my boss bearable.
At least I’d be able to go back to work tomorrow.
Then I’d deal with the stares from my co-workers.
Now that I thought about it, I hadn’t seen that many medics in the bay in years. It was as if the world had slept in and taken a deep breath. After yesterday’s event, perhaps there’d be a slow period while heroes and villains alike licked their wounds.
The afternoon sun beamed down, leaving the day unusually warm for the end of summer. But with a cool breeze pushing against my face, I had to remind myself to smile. Once I deposited my paycheck, it’d be a Chinese takeout night and old martial arts films.
“It doesn’t get much better than this,” I muttered.
I neared the entrance of the bank to see several people running out. I had spoken too soon. A woman clutched her laptop bag as she ran past me. I stared at my phone and could see a red blip had appeared in the HeroApp?. While the heroes might have taken a day off, the villains had other plans.
I debated skipping the bank and heading home.
As part of our health class in school, they had taught us to flee or hide when a superpowered battle broke out.
Apparently, hiding under your desk would somehow stop mind control or lava monsters.
Off duty, I usually avoided situations that might require me to work, but today I felt like pressing my luck.
Standing at the giant brass turnstile door, I squinted, trying to get a look inside. There were dozens of people lying on the floor while others hid behind massive marble columns. Try as I might, I couldn’t find the source of their panic.
So, in I went.
They had built the lobby of the bank to impress.
A large room with towering columns that directed patrons through a two-story arch into the main part that held the tellers.
There was shouting from somewhere inside, multiple voices demanding the other hurry.
I crouched next to a man in a business suit, using the column as a shield.
“How many?”
His eyes had glassed over as he hugged himself. “Six.”
“Powers?”
“Mr. Mad,” he mumbled.
A low-level villain, he rarely managed a caper before one of the local heroes kicked the crap out of them.
I flipped to the distress screen and tapped the “In Distress” button, adding information about the culprit.
It’d be a minute or two before Zipper or Cobalt appeared.
The fight would be over before it started.
“They’re not coming,” he added.
“Soon as you can, make it to the door. Get out of here.” I wasn’t going to square off against a lunatic and his heavily armed goons in raccoon masks, but I could at least lower the body count.
Peeking around the corner, I spotted one man in their signature red and white striped shirts. I patted the man on the shoulder the moment the gunman turned his back toward the entrance. “Go.”
He started in a crawl and quickly climbed to his feet, looking over his shoulder. He was out the door and safe. It wasn’t much, but it was one less target for them to shoot.
Pulling up the HeroApp?, I clicked the distress button again, searching the map for any local hero sightings. “Figures,” I mumbled. They were everywhere, parading around all day, but when they were needed to actually protect people, there wasn’t a hero to be found.
A blip caused my phone to vibrate. “Hellcat, really? There must be another dimensional rift nearby.” She wasn’t a slouch in the rescuing department, but unlike the majority of heroes, she didn’t possess super strength or the ability to teleport.
No, our only protector was a woman with a black belt and a grudge.
“Gimme your wallet.”
Dammit. I had been so concerned with the criminals in the bank I hadn’t seen this one sneak around the column. Pressing my back against the marble, I scooted upward. Crouched on the floor meant my options were limited. If I could—
“Don’t move another muscle.”
“Or what?”
“I don’t want to kill you, man. Just give me your wallet.”
“I’m going to reach into my pocket…”
Lunging, I grabbed the barrel of his shotgun. Pushed high, he wouldn’t be able to shoot me in the face. Small victories. I tried clocking him in the face with my left hand, but he pulled backward. My hand slipped as he jerked the gun free. Through the raccoon mask, his eyes twitched, preparing for—
BANG.
The shot lifted me off my feet, hurling me across the floor until another column stopped my sliding.
Without thinking, I patted down my chest, ready to assess the damage.
My shirt had dozens of tiny holes scattered across my chest and stomach.
Shoving my finger into a dime-sized gap in the cloth, there were no holes in my skin, no blood.
If I hadn’t sailed across the lobby, I might suspect he missed, but the Swiss cheese shirt told a different story.
The bandit had frozen in shock, giving away his rookie status within Mr. Mad’s operation. Was that the first time he fired on an innocent? I didn’t care about his answer, because it was about to be his last.
Hardly an ache. I crawled to my feet, standing up so Mr. Raccoon could see the tattered remains of my shirt. As I stalked toward him, he hardly moved, the barrel swaying slightly from the shivering of his arms. He was scared, and rightfully so.
Intentional or not, his finger tightened, and he fired again.
I ducked low, lunging so that my arms wrapped around his waist. We tumbled, the crook landing hard on his ass.
I moved quickly, climbing up his body until I straddled his chest. My first punch knocked off his mask.
The second knocked blood from his lip. The bastard had shot me.
No, he tried to kill me. It was the sixth punch when his body relaxed and his face transformed into a bloody mess.
Not dead, but he’d be hurting for weeks to come.
“Ahem.”
Standing only a few feet away was a vigilante, a woman in head-to-toe leather.
She pulled back her hood, revealing neon pink hair.
The thin mask covering her eyes shouldn’t have hidden her identity, but heroes were good about squirreling away their alter-egos.
Her eyes ran up and down my body, hovering at my fists covered in the criminal’s blood.
Hellcat was known for her brutality in a fight.
She carefully studied me, deciding if I was the threat.
“He tried to kill me.”
“You need to get out of here before the cops show.”
“I can’t flee the scene of a crime.”
“You better if you don’t want them figuring out your identity.”
Being a paramedic meant I knew a good number of Vanguard’s police force. The moment they saw me, they’d know me by name, and without my uniform, it’d be obvious that it was a day off. Her words didn’t make—
I eyed my t-shirt. “Oh. Damn.”
“Rookie mistake,” she said. “And right now, there’s not enough of us for careless errors.”
Us?
Hellcat walked by me, and with a slap on the ass, she bolted into the lobby. The gunfire started, a few screams, but mostly men grunting and the occasional cheer.
I eyed my shirt again. Us. I was one of them, a damned superhero. I did the only thing I could as the sirens grew louder, I ran for the door.