Mutation (8 page)

One thousand six…

I teleported directly in front of Brick.  I swung hard, but only made a slight connection before my target disappeared – apparently teleported by Estrella.  With so little of the force of my swing transferring into the blow, he probably didn’t even feel it.

One thousand seven…

I teleported behind Spectre.  This was the moment of truth.  If I was right, then all my hopscotching around – teleporting from one of these guys to the next in quick succession and going on the offensive each time – should have been more than Rudi was able to get out in a verbally coherent fashion.  (I imagined her rattling off information in staccato bursts, like a machine gun unloading, as she tried to get everything out:  he’s-going-to-teleport-over-by-the-broken-pipe-and-now-he’s-going-by-Estrella…next-look-for-him-to-pop-up-next-to-Blitz-and-right-after-that-then-he’s-going-to…)

I swung the pipe…and was rewarded with a sound like a firecracker as it connected with the back of Spectre’s skull.  He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Unexpectedly, there was a scream of anguish from nearby.  It was Estrella.  The way the sound came out of her, you’d have thought it was her that I’d hit.

She raised a hand and fired a laser beam at me.  I shifted into super speed and stepped aside as it went past and struck a directional sign on a nearby wall.  The sign must have had some kind of reflective coating, because the beam dispersed, radiating out in the form of a score of smaller lights that formed a brilliant kaleidoscope.

Estrella teleported next to Spectre.  She screamed again, this time more in fury than anything else.  Standing over him, she raised both hands and fired, like a gunfighter in the Old West trying to unload on an enemy.   Running at super speed, I was easily able to avoid her blasts.  Other parts of the garage weren’t so lucky, as lasers carved chunks out of nearby walls, sliced through columns, and even struck the gas tank of a station wagon, causing it to blow up.

Not far away, I saw Blitz also zig and zag to avoid Estrella’s blasts.  I almost laughed as I realized what was happening.  At our speed, we were both nothing but blurs to her, so she was firing indiscriminately.  I then pulled one of my favorite stunts with speedsters – I telekinetically tripped him.

Blitz went down flailing, bouncing along the ground until he slammed into a car.  Suddenly, I felt an emotional void – a vacuum where just a moment before there had been a fiery storm.  I looked around; Estrella had disappeared, as had Spectre.

Something I did notice, however, were the downed security guards.  With me actually able to get into the mix now, this was the last place anyone needed to be lying around unconscious.  I teleported them all into one of the stores where I’d gone shopping just a short time earlier.  There was bound to be some panic at a bunch of coldcocked mall cops popping up out of nowhere, and for a second I wondered why Estrella hadn’t just teleported them somewhere out of the way rather than have her team take them on.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it, however, as my peripheral vision picked up movement.  Turning in that direction, I saw Brick bearing down on me.  I went invisible, and when he slowed to check his charge, I walloped him with the pipe, which I had also made invisible and was still holding.  He swung in my direction, but I avoided him easily, then hit him again.

And so we danced for a few seconds – him swinging and missing, me following up with a lick from the pipe.  I doubt that it hurt him very much – it was probably on par with a bee sting – but it still had to be maddening, as evidenced by the fact that he just started swinging wildly in all directions.

I took a step back from Brick’s wild gyrations and looked around for Blitz.  He was back on his feet again, but when he tried to run, I tripped him again before he got five steps.  He went tumbling along the ground again.  I did the same thing when he got up and tried to run the next time.

It went on that way for a few moments, with me alternating between hitting Brick with the pipe and telekinetically tripping Blitz every time he moved.  I occasionally glanced around to make sure Estrella hadn’t come back, but she didn’t put in another appearance.  Without her and Spectre, a significant portion of their arsenal seemed to be gone.

For a second, however, I wondered if Rudi could still predict my movements.  That’s when I looked and noticed that Blitz no longer had his earpiece; it had apparently been lost during one of the occasions when I tripped him.  Brick still had his, but was so obviously enraged that he probably wasn’t listening even if Rudi was trying to tell him something.  He was now picking up cars and tossing them around randomly, grunting with the effort.  The low garage ceiling made it difficult for him to get a lot of distance with his throws, but he still got an
A
for effort as the cars he threw smashed into and demolished other vehicles (as well as parts of the building itself).

It was a good thing we were in a relatively inexpensive parking garage.  It would be a shame if this kind of damage were taking place in an expensive structure like an office building or a museum…

I was hit with a sudden inspiration.  Without taking time to fully think it through, I teleported myself, Brick, and Blitz.

We popped up in a huge room, much like the one I had teleported myself and Electra to for our date.  In fact, this was indeed the Louvre again, although a different section.  It was an area that Electra and I had peeked into but been unable to enter as it was undergoing renovations.

Looking around now, I could see that the area was still closed to the public.  Natural light cascaded down through a ceiling made up almost entirely of panes of glass.  There was no artwork in the room, although there were a number of pedestals (presumably for statues) and wooden benches bolted to the floor.  Moreover, a group of men in coveralls were hard at work painting one of the far walls when we showed up, although none of them seemed to notice us initially.

If he was aware of the change in environment – going from a dark garage to a well-lit room – Brick didn’t show it particularly well.  However, just to keep him in the right frame of mind, I – while still invisible – went over and smacked him good and hard on the knee with the pipe.

Brick howled, then reached over and gripped a huge stone pedestal that was at least four feet wide and three feet high.  With a massive effort, he wrenched it up from the floor and then threw it in the direction where he apparently believed I was standing.  It flew through the air fifty feet, then crashed down and went skidding across the floor, plowing up exorbitantly expensive tile along the way.

The workmen took one look and ran helter skelter for the nearest exit, shouting anxiously in French.  A few seconds later an alarm began blaring, and metal bars descended over the room’s exits.  The place was going into lockdown.

Brick ripped another pedestal up and flung it as well, then pulled up a bench that he began swinging like a baseball bat.  His swings were ferocious but uncoordinated, like a batter trying to nail a bunch of wild pitches.  Obviously, he was after me, hoping to get a lucky hit in.

Maybe Brick hadn’t noticed the change of scenery or the alarms, but Blitz obviously had.  He ran to his teammate, trying to calm him.  Brick, however, was seemingly in no mood to talk.  He swung the bench at Blitz, who tried to zip out of the way.  Unfortunately for Blitz, I took that moment to telekinetically lift him about a foot into the air.  Unable to touch the ground with his feet, Blitz couldn’t get any traction.  In short, he couldn’t move.

The bench connected with Blitz right around the hip.  Limply, he flew across the room like a cannonball before cratering into a wall.  Comically, he stuck there for a second, embedded, before sliding bonelessly to the floor.

Brick seemed stunned for a second, surprised that he had actually made contact.  His eyes darted around the room, and for the first time he seemed to become aware of the fact that he was in an entirely different place - and that an alarm was going off.  He didn’t have long to ponder, however, as a sound like a Harrier jet thundered outside the building, drowning out the alarms and causing the glass panes in the ceiling to rattle violently.  Two of those panes shattered and came raining down as a streak of crimson burst through the ceiling.

The French were notoriously protective of their
objets d’art
- especially those on display in the Louvre.  Rumor was that a French super was always on standby to lend a hand should anyone attempt to steal anything from the world-famous museum.  Whether true or not, there was no denying that someone had responded in near-record time to the commotion being made by Brick.

It was Rouge, a world-renowned French superhero.  He was a slender man, without a lot of obvious muscle or weight.  Moreover, he was a little on the short side - probably five-nine or so.  He had slick, dark hair that he wore combed back, revealing a rather prominent forehead.  All in all, if one were to go by appearances, he wasn’t particularly impressive.

As they say, however, appearances can be deceiving, and that was rarely more true than with Rouge.  Despite his uninspiring physique, he was generally counted among the top ten supers on the planet.  Moreover, his name, Rouge, was not just a nod to the bright red outfit he always wore, but also alluded to the fact that he had an infamously short temper.  More than a few supervillains, upon seeing him in person, had thought his reputation exaggerated, only to find out that - if anything - it was grossly understated.

It now looked like Brick’s name was going to be added to that list.  Anticipating a possible brawl, I cycled through various portions of the light spectrum until my vision found something approaching normal.

Rouge said something to Brick in French, which the latter obviously didn’t understand.  Rouge seemed to repeat himself, only this time his words were accompanied by hand gestures, as he seemed to indicate that Brick should put down the bench, which he was still holding.

The scene was almost comical.  The disparity in their appearances - height, weight, bulk, etc.  - made it seem as if the hulkish Brick was being admonished by a child.  It was all I could do not to laugh out loud.

Despite the fact that he didn’t seem to speak French, Brick apparently had no problem interpreting Rouge’s tone.  He snarled in response, then swung the bench like he was trying to bat one out of the park.  There was an explosive crack as the wooden bench didn’t just break, but actually splintered upon coming into contact with Rouge.  Slivers of wood went flying in all directions.  Brick stood holding the remnants of the bench in his hands, as if unsure of what had just happened.

On his part, Rouge had never moved.  Brick might as well have hit him with a feather for all the effect it seemed to have.  Rouge calmly looked himself over, brushed a few splinters from the shoulder of his costume - then exploded into action.

He slammed a fist into Brick’s belly that made the larger man double over in obvious pain.  Then Rouge brought his knee up, nailing Brick on the chin and causing him to flip over onto his back.  He followed this up by reaching down and grabbing Brick around one of his ankles, then picked him up and repeatedly slammed him to the ground in a back-and-forth fashion, as if Brick were a rug he was trying to beat the dust out of.

Rouge’s onslaught didn’t stop there, but I had seen enough.  On a personal note, I decided that Rouge’s reputation regarding his temper was well-deserved.  Moreover, as I wasn’t fully aware of his power set, I decided to make my exit - just in case he could somehow sense my presence.

I turned my attention to Blitz before I left, but he was still out cold.  I smiled to myself, thinking how upset Gray would be that his team had failed to take me.  At the thought, an impertinent impulse came over me.  I took the card Gray had given me, made it visible, and surreptitiously tucked it into one of Blitz’s pockets.  Then I teleported back to the mall.

Chapter 9

My first thought was to follow up on my promise to get Rudi and her brother.  I had popped up, invisible, at the back parking lot.  I reached out telepathically; this time, finding her was a piece of cake since I knew what I was looking for.

I said. 

She mentally clapped her hands with glee. 

I could feel her pondering that, but it was something she could figure out later, so I went on. 

Rudi began broadcasting an odd emotion, a mixture of incredulity and exasperation. 

That was a surprise. 

That explained her going bananas after he went down.  Also why she was ignoring orders from Gray and sticking to Spectre’s bedside.

I was confused again.

There was a slight hesitation, and then she spoke again. 

I heard an engine rev up, and then saw a white commercial van with “Benny’s Electrical and Plumbing” on the side pull out of a parking spot and head towards the street running parallel to the mall.  I could feel Rudi inside, getting farther away.

I suddenly cried out. 

Huh?