Chapter 9 Mandie #2
Donovan grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. "We can probably see how they are doing. The news loves covering us."
"Good for ratings." Johnny laughed.
The TV screen flickered, static dissolving into grainy footage. My breath hitched. There they were.
Quantum Knight, Riven, and Liquen, mid-battle in what looked like the desert remains of an industrial wasteland. Quantum Knight’s suit gleamed under the flickering overhead lights, gold circuitry pulsing as he unleashed a kinetic blast that sent Brickslayer skidding backward.
The red-skinned bastard roared, horns glinting, before charging again like a bull.
Riven moved like smoke, his dark navy outfit blending into the shadows as he dodged a fireball from Soulflame.
The old pyro looked exactly like Johnny had described—decked out in fireman’s gear, flames licking at his fists.
And then there was Liquen. Fuck, even in the middle of a brawl, the guy moved like he was gliding. His trench coat rippled as he shifted from solid to liquid, reforming just in time to kick Conductor in the chest.
Johnny pointed at the screen, voice tight. "See? That’s why I couldn’t go. Soulflame’s there."
I side-eyed him. "Yeah. Your dad."
His jaw clenched. For a second, the smirk vanished, replaced by something raw. "Don’t."
I didn’t push. I watched as Brickslayer swung a massive fist at Quantum Knight, the impact sending a shockwave through the camera. The feed cut to static again.
It was different watching them now. Harder. Especially since I’d just slept with two of the men fighting on the screen.
The feed cut to a prerecorded interview with none other than Victor Scarpetta. Even on TV, the man was disgusting.
He sat in a wingback chair across from the news anchor, looking effortless in a charcoal three-piece suit. Dark hair gelled back. Jawline sharp enough to cut glass. But I was looking at the scar on his neck. It looked more irritated than usual.
"Mr. Scarpetta," the reporter said, feigning intensity, "Sum Zero Tech is making bold claims. You’re talking about global security protocols that don't rely on... outside help."
Victor smiled. It was the smile he used in board meetings. "We prefer the term 'autonomous protection,' Diane. We’re moving past the era of relying on unpredictable variables for our safety."
"But surely there are drawbacks?" the reporter pressed. "What is the cost to privacy? To personal freedom?"
"There are no drawbacks, Diane," Victor said smoothly. "Only upgrades."
I scoffed. Liar.
"And what about the superheroes who have protected this city for decades? Will they assist with the deployment?"
Victor laughed. It was a short, sharp sound. He leaned forward. "Assist us? Diane, you don't keep the horse and buggy around to assist the automobile. This technology doesn't need help. It makes superheroes obsolete."
"Man, fuck this guy!" Johnny flipped off the TV.
Victor drove the point home, looking directly into the camera lens. It felt like he was looking right at me. "At Sum Zero Tech, we believe safety is the architecture of efficiency. And I promise you, nothing will make the world safer than this."
I hit the mute button.
"You okay?" Donovan asked, face genuine.
"Yeah. I guess the whole reward to bring me back has been thrown out. Full force ahead with Project Titan."
Johnny scoffed. "Who needs a reward when you have six of the greatest superheroes in the world watching out for you?"
I shot Johnny a look. "The more I learn about superheroes, the more convinced I am you are all super weird."
"Hey! We might be weird, but at the end of the day, we still save the world and still know how to have fun."
"Fun? You call playing video games and drinking in your clubhouse fun?"
Johnny shrugged. "We've been busy since you got here. Listen to this; last month, we all went to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate Donovan’s birthday. We tore up the city. We looked like six misfits out there, but we didn’t care. It was a great bonding moment."
I turned my attention to Donovan. "So, you are a Libra. How old are you now? Twenty-six? Twenty-eight?"
"Twenty-one," Johnny answered for him.
"You are only twenty-one?" I was shocked. I knew he was young, but that young?
"Yes." Donovan nodded.
"But you have been around for a long time."
"I started helping people when I was sixteen. So about five years, I guess."
"You are still so young…" I said.
Johnny let out a laugh. "How old are you?"
Not the best question to ask me. I felt very self-conscious about it.
"Twenty-nine. My birthday is in a couple of months," I said in a huff.
"Oh, the big Three-Zero. We need to have another birthday getaway. Maybe Paris this time? Or Italy?"
"Oh, believe me. You six idiots owe me a lot more than a birthday trip after keeping me here all this time."
Before Johnny could answer, a scream tore through the hallway.
It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical force. The room shuddered, the floor vibrating under our feet like we were standing on a fault line. I screamed, the sound involuntary, lost in the rumbling chaos.
"Fuck!" Johnny blurred out of the room, a streak of denim and panic. Donovan and I sprinted after him.
The shaking grew stronger as we neared the residential wing. "What is going on?" I shouted over the noise.
"Matt," Donovan panted, his face pale. "Night terrors. Again."
We skidded to a halt outside Matt’s door. Johnny was pacing, hands in his hair. "I’m not sure what to do. Doc is the one who usually talks him down. Roger did it a few times and so has the boss. But none of them are here."
"Someone just needs to wake him up, right?" I asked.
Johnny laughed bitterly. "I tend to make him worse when I try."
I rolled my eyes. "Gee, I wonder why. Move."
"Don't!" Donovan pleaded, reaching for me. "Mandie, it’s dangerous—"
I shoved past them. The door was already cracked open. I didn’t knock.