The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes (21 page)

The Nothing Man vanishes. I blink and he’s no longer on the ground. Teleporter. Justin’s barely upright when The Man appears behind the hero. I move to bang on the glass, but don’t get my arm up before The Nothing Man shoves something into Justin’s back. The hero wails in agony but at the same time whacks the back of his head against his assailant’s face. It must stun the villain because he staggers a pace back, knife still dripping blood, before teleporting away again. I’m moving toward the door before I realize I’m doing it. “Jo!” Bennett calls behind me. But just as I make it past the second booth, Justin speeds away again. I keep running too.

“Call the police!” I say before stepping out into the freezing night.

I glance left. The car accident survivors are being aided by other bystanders. They’re—

Another bout of skidding tires to my right, the way Justin ran. My gaze whips that direction. Oh, thank Christ. A block down, in front of the old movie theater, the hero and villain stand in the center of the road, oblivious to the oncoming out of control car. The Nothing Man stabs Justin again as a car drives straight into the front of the theater. “Jesus Christ.”

I kick off my heels, pick them up, and bolt toward the madness. But I’m not fast enough. The Nothing Man stabs the hero again. That’s all he can take. Knight doubles over, falling to his knees and hands. Fuck.
Fuck!
The Man looms over the hero, head tilting to the side, studying his prey. He raises the blade again. No! No, no, no, no…

The blade comes down. It doesn’t connect. Justin’s hand rises to catch the villain’s arm. There’s a crack as bones break before the hero lets out a war cry and grabs the villain’s leg. Then they’re gone.
Poof!
What…? Up. Movement in the sky. I glance up a moment after the men appear above the movie theater. Falling. I stop to gasp. Falling. They crash through the roof, White first. Jesus.

Bennett passes me on the sidewalk, running toward the demolished theater. I didn’t know he was following me. This time I trail after him, though he’s faster than me. Traumatized people begin filtering out of the theater, most bleeding or crying. The entire front is gone, the glass doors nothing but shards from the car crash. I have to waste seconds putting my heels back on. Bennett simply charges inside.

Bedlam. That’s what I walk into. Popcorn and glass everywhere from the demolished concession stand. A teenager in an orange vest aiding the driver of the smoking car out of the wrecked vehicle with Bennett’s help. Screams of pain and terror echoing from the theater even as people run through the doors to safety. Most appear intact with only a few cuts on them. Over the screams there’s the screech of twisting metal as lights flicker in the lobby. That can’t be good.

“Get him outside,” Bennett orders the teen.

“Everyone outside,” I shout. “Watch out for the glass! Clear the building!”

No one’s listening. The crowd’s so crazed one man falls in the doorway and people ignore him, even trampling the poor guy. I reach him a second before Bennett does. My friend knocks a person aside as I bend down to help the man to his feet. “You’re okay,” I say to the now bleeding man. He yowls in agony as he rises. Probably broken ribs. He leans on me as I help him hobble outside and deposit him on the curb. “Try not to move. An ambulance is on its way.”

“Thank you,” he sobs.

“Peter!” a woman shrieks. I turn around, and she’s running over to us. He’ll be fine.

I push and shove my way through the maddening crowd back inside to the lobby. The flickering lights have gotten worse, where it’s more dark than not. I scan the crowd but don’t see Bennett. Shit. I slip through the small opening of people into the theater. Oh, fuck me. The hole in the celling gapes open, far bigger than the man who created it and still crumbling. Metal girders hang by cables still swinging like a pendulum in a Poe story. Some have already collapsed, crushing rows of seats I fear with people under them. The white screen’s ripped as well with another hole in the far wall. Justin. Where’s—

“Help!” I hear a familiar man shout.

My attention whips toward the center of the theater directly under the hole. Bennett’s head peaks above the seats, glancing around wildly for aid, as a bloody teenaged girl sobs beside him. I maneuver through the stragglers toward them. The hyperventilating teenager notices me, her face is a mix of blood and what must be dirt or soot. I think she’s attempting to form words but can only tremble. Bennett is too busy with something on the floor to look up, even as more of the roof collapses not ten feet away from him or as I run closer. Oh, fuck me. A girl, or I think it’s a girl judging from the torn yellow tights and silver sneakers now splattered with blood, lies on the ground, one leg pinned by a huge hunk of concrete and a metal girder in her abdomen. “Fuck,” I gasp.

“You’re okay, Ariana,” Bennett says to the girl. He kisses the hand he’s holding. “You’re okay.”

His voice snaps me from my momentary stupor. I hustle down the aisle toward them. It’s worse up close. Like her friend, she was once a beautiful girl. Blonde hair now becoming red from the bleeding gashes in her head. One blue eye swollen shut and the other staring up at Bennett with tears flowing. They both glance at me as I toss a broken seat aside so I can kneel beside her too. I learned first-aid at the police academy, but with one look at the position of the wound, the black blood seeping from it, and the tiny blood bubbles she breaths out, I know not even a trained doctor could save her now.

“I-I-Sh-Should y-you re-remove the metal?” the friend asks. “It-It-She—”

I gaze up at the girl. “Go outside,” I order, voice titanium. “Wait for the ambulance and bring them back here the moment they arrive. Go!
Now!
”

The command breaks through the shock. The teenager nods and sprints the opposite way down the aisle. She doesn’t need to be here. She doesn’t need to see this. Bennett gives me a little nod of approval before returning his attention to the girl. “It’s okay, Ariana,” he whispers, voice trembling right along with the rest of him. “She’s gone to get help. You’re okay. You’re going to be fine.” He pets her hair. “You’re gonna be just fine. I’m here. I’m right here with you. I’m here, sweetheart.”

The girl tries to smile but only groans in pain, clutching onto Bennett’s hand as tight as she can. “Hey. Hey,” he says. She opens her eye again. “You’re doing so well. You’re being so brave. You just have to be brave a little while longer. You have to be strong. Can you be strong for us?”

She opens her mouth, trying to speak, and succeeds the second time. “Mo-Mommy,” she croaks. “I-I w-want Mommy. Mommy,” she sobs through the blood bubbles.

Jesus.
Jesus
.

Bennett kisses her hand again. “She’s coming. She’s on her way. Just be strong, sweetheart. Be strong for me. Be strong for her.”

“Mommy. Mommy. Mo—”

She coughs up blood as her body convulses. Oh, God.

“No. No,” Bennett whispers, holding onto her hand tighter even as her body grows limp. “No. No. No. No.”

“Bennett…” I touch his shoulder. His body jolts, I think in surprise. He’d forgotten I was here. I meet his tear-filled eyes. “She’s gone,” I whisper.

“No. She’ll be fine. She’s…” He looks down at the still girl. “We-We can do something. CPR. We-We—”

“She’s gone, Bennett. She’s gone. There was nothing you could do. She—”

“
No
!” he roars, rage filled gaze whipping my way. It cuts short my breath as if any movement could cause him to lash out at me. The moment passes. Anguish overtakes the madness. “There is,” he croaks out. “There was. I-I-I…” He stares down at her. “Too late. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Never again. I promise. Never again.” He kisses her hand. “Never again.
Never
. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he sobs.

He sobs until he cannot breathe. Until his eyes sting. I’ve been there. I know exactly what he needs. I wrap my arms around my friend and hold on tight until there are no tears left. Until the world fades away and returns. I let him know he’s not alone, no matter how much he may believe he is.

Sometimes that’s all you can do. And sometimes that has to be good enough.

*

When the night began I promised myself I wouldn’t end it in Bennett Stone’s penthouse. My word is gonna be worth less than a politician’s at this rate.

It took emergency services forever to arrive at the theater, almost twenty minutes. Not that I blame them. They had their hands full. The battle spanned almost ten blocks, not a single one of those blocks left unmolested. We heard on the radio the fight continued on after the theater until White Knight finally apprehended the villain. I did breathe a literal sigh of relief upon hearing Justin was alive. Cold comfort when you literally have a dead teenager’s blood on your hands. Bennett and I stayed with Tina, Ariana’s friend, until EMTs got around to her, keeping her warm, still, and feet elevated. Shock. She should be fine though. At least physically.

It was nice to see how everyone in the surrounding restaurants and apartments came out with water and blankets for the injured. Even Carla and Lola popped by with our coats and trays of water for the people. Bennett barely spoke. He just rubbed Tina’s feet as I asked her questions until she was carted off. Since there was little else we could do after that, and I was shaking from both the temperature and adrenaline withdrawal, I called the limo driver from Bennett’s phone and got him out of there. Even alone he didn’t speak, didn’t do anything but stare out the window, face an unreadable mask. There was no way in hell I was leaving him alone after all that. There was no way in hell
I
wanted to be alone after all that. I told the driver to take us to his penthouse and got out after him. Still not a peep, even as we ride up the elevator.

His place isn’t as I’d imagined. I’d anticipated chrome and modern simplicity not deep, plush burgundy carpeting, wood paneling, polished antiques, oil paintings and ancient maps framing the walls. Reminds me of an English manor house. Warm. Classy. Homey even. Bennett drops his keys, wallet, and cell phone on the end table by the front door then just stares at the specks of blood on his white shirt and cuff. “I still have blood on me,” he whispers, shocked.

I take a step to his side and slip my hand in his. “Then lets get cleaned up, huh? Come on.”

I lead him down the hallway, past family photos on the end tables, to his bedroom. Not as I’d imagined either. A king size four poster bed fills most of the space with an ornately carved armoire in the corner, dresser with TV on top, and more oil paintings of serene men and women on the walls. I sit him down on his bed, and he stares up as if he sees right through me. I smile anyway before going into the bathroom. Jesus. My make-up has held up fairly well but my hair’s half fallen out of its side bun and tiny red dots mar my cheek and chest. I grab a wash cloth and scrub the blood away. I still feel dirty down to my bones. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and force the revulsion, the sadness down. Not now, Jo. You’re needed.

Bennett hasn’t moved. He
doesn’t
move as I kneel in front of him to remove his shoes. His cummerbund. As I unbutton and remove his bloody shirt and wipe the fluids from his neck and face. At least he sees me this time. His eyes follow my every movement, a small, sad smile growing with each act until the corners of his mouth begin to tremble and tears well in his brown eyes. “Shit,” he whispers. “Shit.”

“You did everything you could,” I whisper back. “I mean it. You gave that girl comfort. You kept her calm. You let her know she wasn’t alone when she needed it the most. That was all you could do. And you did it to perfection.
Good job.
”

Bennett lets out a choked laugh as tears fall from his eyes. He wipes them away and shakes his head. “I-I just…” He swallows. “Why? Why did…? She was so young. She just wanted to see a movie with her friend. If she’d just sat somewhere else. If those…fuckers had chosen to go down another street. If they’d just done us all a favor and killed each other. If I moved up—” His mouth suddenly snaps shut. He closes his eyes and lets out a puff of breath before opening them again. He doesn’t look at me this time. “Do you believe in God?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“I wish I still did. I used to. When I was a child. We went to church every week. Mom made us say grace at every meal, thank God in our prayers every night. I even considered becoming a priest.” I raise an eyebrow and Bennett smiles. “I know. Never would have happened, but I was young and I…think I just wanted to help people. Seemed the best way all around.” He gazes up at the heavens again. “We were actually on our way to a church fundraiser when it happened. One minute we were driving, talking about riding the Ferris wheel they’d rented, then just…bang. I blinked and the roof crushed in my parents’ heads. They just vanished in a spurt of blood, metal, and rock.

“Molly and I must have been knocked to the floor. That metal and rock slid farther, pinning my baby sister underneath it.” He shakes his head and wipes away the tears before looking at me once more. “I tried to move the rock. I tried and I tried, even as her blood curling screams begged me not to. For half an hour as I prayed to God, as I tortured my little sister with my stubbornness and ineptitude,
I tried
. I swore I’d become a priest. I’d donate organs. I’d give away every penny in my trust if He would just help me move the boulder and save my Molly. This little girl who still believed in Santa Claus and loved butterflies. But it wouldn’t move,” he says, voice cracking. “And the moment my arms gave out, the moment I lost my strength, was the moment I lost my faith. It was the moment I realized that if God ever did exist, he didn’t give a shit about us. I realized that we were on our own. That there is no karma, no plan, no divine retribution or punishment for the wicked. If we wanted it, we’d have to dole it our ourselves. It’s on us, and only us.
We
change the world for better or worse.”

“Hopefully for the better,” I whisper. “That’s all any of us can hope for. Strive for. That the good we give and receive outweighs the bad. That there are more good people out in the world than evil. That even the evil are redeemable. That love will always be a far greater force than hate and apathy. That good intentions can be enough. That we always at least
try
. Like you did tonight.”