H.E.R.O. - Horde (12 page)

Spartan and Diva left for a nearby site to collect parts for the rebuilding team, and soon arrived with the raw materials needed to finish the repairs.

While they were gone, Big Man had shrunk down and mentioned, “Well, I wish I had his leaping power.”

I looked up at him, “I thought you could leap pretty far.”

“I can, but when I land I smash into the ground and damage it.  Spartan seems to land soft for the most part.”

“Ah, true.  At least you guys could pick up the concrete chunks and help out.  Most of them weigh a ton or so, and I can’t even lift that much.”

“Sorry, Hellshock.  Somebody’s got to be our whipping boy.  You get to be the lucky one.”

“Yeah, thanks.  Maybe someday my lightning will be powerful enough to lay out everyone in a room.”

“I’d be shocked to see that.”  Big Man chuckled to himself and walked off.  I scowled.

Agent Carson made his usual inquiries of us.  While others talked, I scanned the crowd, looking for the colors of the shirt the person tossing the dark globs into the air had been wearing.  Nothing stood out to me, however.

A surprising number of the heroes there hadn’t met each other yet.  Big Man hadn’t met any of the new heroes.  Zonk was new to Diva – he spent some time trying to cheer her up.  She seemed to be quite sad for someone who had just saved a bunch of lives.

I bet Psycom would be pissed about not making it here before her, this would be a high value save for her, between knocking the chunk away from the crowd and helping repair the bridge quickly.  Granted, he couldn’t fly even close to her speed, that had been a pretty amazing flight.

The news crews descended like flies on the scene, and the next half hour was spent talking with various reporters.

Chapter 11 - A Bright Shine

Chrome's Viewpoint

Metrocity Jail.  My home for the foreseeable future.  Over the last few days I'd begun to see the real nature of mutants - or at least those who were also incarcerated at the prison.

The guards had continued to take pity on me, at least the bricks and other few supers who worked at the Jail had.  They kept giving me plastic utensils and glasses to try to get used to holding without crushing inordinately.  While I got a little better at it, it felt like my manual dexterity had just gone down the dumps.

I felt like I'd become a twitching monstrosity that couldn't even pick up a glass without crushing it.  Granted, if I watched my hands as I did it I could indeed pick up a glass.  If I looked away, it was extremely easy to crush things.

Since the guards allowed me to help with mopping the floors I got to hear the jibes of the mutants - and there were plenty.  Some tried to claim that the guards were simply mocking me behind my back, giving me items to break to watch me fail.

Others claimed I was just a new pet for them, and once the shine had worn off my ultra-shiny and reflective chrome skin that they'd toss me in a cell and leave me there 24/7.  The prison
did
do that for some of the other inmates who were too dangerous to allow out of a cell, either due to their powers or their mentality.  Some couldn't even be allowed to be awake; their powers couldn't be stopped by mere walls and bars.

Wednesday morning the guards - or perhaps the warden - decided to allow me to mop the floor of a few mutant cells while the inmate was there.  It was easy for the guards to control; each cell had an outer cell and an inner cell.  They simply kept the outer cell closed while I went into the inner one.

The first mutant stared at me while sitting on his bunk, as did the second, until he spit and peed on the floor right in front of me.  I stepped back out of the way.  The guards hadn't taken kindly to the mutant doing that and came inside, grabbed the inmate, locked him down tight, and then carried him off to an ultra secure cell as punishment.  I cleaned up the mess when they dragged him off down the hall.

I noticed that the door had been left open as they dragged the kicking mutant.  The man was still highly dangerous - while his hands were locked down, his teeth and barbs off his elbows and knees were fully capable of tearing through a normal brick's body armor almost as if it weren't there.

I wasn't even tempted by the open door.  They had been nice to me, and I felt safe in the prison.  Not that much of anything could hurt my ultra hard metal body now, barring electricity perhaps - but I couldn't break anything or hurt anyone else, as I had my soon-to-be ex-husband.

I heard the sound of wood snapping and blinked to snap out of my thoughts.  The wood handle of the mop had broken in half.

I sighed.  "Damn it."

I got down on my metal knees and worked with the remaining lower part to finish cleaning the floor.  I hoped they wouldn't be too angry with me for breaking it, I was such a danger, it seemed.

Garrick - one of the brick guards - returned, stopped and stared at me for a moment and then asked, "What happened?"

I answered, "I'm sorry.  I really am, I didn't mean to...."

"No, that's okay.  I guess I should have expected it at this point, especially after the guy pissed you off like that."

"He really didn't.  His being an ass doesn't make me angry.  I was just thinking, and wasn't watching close enough when it snapped."

"Ah.  You want a new mop?"

I tapped my metal fingers against the concrete floor.  "No, it's not like I get sore joints by doing it on my knees and my hands don't get tired any more."

"Yeah, that's a nice thing about being a brick, huh?"

"I suppose so.  I'd give it up to be able to make jewelry again in a heartbeat."

"Ah.  How about one more and call it?"

"Sure.  This one is clean until he pees in it again.  Maybe he has a bladder problem and wets himself."

Garrick snickered, "Come on, then."

I stuffed the broken wood into the bucket along with the mop and pushed it out into the hall.  He led me to the next cell down and opened the outer door for me to head in.

In a minute or two, I'd finished the outer cell, so he buzzed open the inner cell with Vox.  This man looked pretty much human, and could pop his talons out when he wanted to rather than have always-out weaponry.

He sat there on his bed watching me as I got down on my knees and began mopping his floor.  In a heartbeat, he leaped over me, his razor-sharp claws scraped across my back.  They made a horrible screeching noise, but my metal skin was far harder than a normal brick's, and he barely drew blood.  He grabbed the short staff in the bucket as I looked back at him.

I opened my mouth to tell him to put it back when he jammed the broken end into my eye.  I blinked in surprise - it didn't hurt, but I hadn't been struck directly in an eye before.

Garrick swore out in the hall.  I stood up and moved toward Vox.  He slashed his talons across my throat, again barely drawing blood.  I boxed him into the corner while he slashed at my torso several more times.

He was extremely fast, and hard to get a hold of, but once I finally grabbed his arm there was an immediate snapping noise from his upper arm.  My fingers alone had been strong enough to snap the bone.  Then I twisted him around and put him into a full nelson.

I said, "Move and I break both of your shoulders.  Sure, you'll heal it, but it'll hurt for a while."

Garrick got into the cell at that point, grabbed Vox's hand and took control of that arm while I moved back to stay out of Garrick’s way.  Vox slashed the guard's throat with his free hand, tearing a nasty gash in it.  I punched the mutant in the back.  He slammed into the bars as if hit by a cannonball.  I did it again for good measure, that time I heard a nice cracking sound as a rib snapped.  I didn't take any joy in hurting him, but I wasn't about to allow him to hurt the guard.

I grabbed Vox by the back of the neck and held him tight.  From the indentations my fingers made in his skin, I knew I was holding him tight.  It took Garrick a couple of minutes to heal, it kind of surprised me that the other guards didn't notice, but maybe they saw us just standing in there and figured it was okay.

Garrick grabbed both of Vox's arms from behind the mutant's back and gave me a nod of thanks.

He said, "Go ahead and take the cleaning stuff out of here."

I nodded, picked up the broken mop pieces and pushed the bucket out of the cell.

Garrick stepped over by the inner door, threw Vox against the far wall with a great thud and stepped back out of the cell, locking it immediately.

He looked at me.  "You know, your issue with breaking things isn't so much being clumsy like you seem to think it is.  It's that you have way too much arm and hand strength - probably over the entire body."

"Doesn't it amount to the same thing?"

"No.  You can wrestle fairly well."

"I've mentioned my brothers before - and my dad gets the credit for teaching me how to defend myself from them.  They were mean at times."

He grabbed the handle of the bucket, took my arm and walked to the guard station just inside the last barrier of the super section.

The guards watched us walk up, one said, "She giving you trouble, Garrick?"

"No, the opposite.  Call the warden's office; see if he has time for a meeting."

"Yes, sir."

I wondered what he was doing.  I certainly didn't look my best now that my shirt had been ripped up by Vox.

The guard hung up and said, "The warden's available for you if you wish.

"Thanks.  I'm leaving the cleaning bucket here; bring it in there, would you?  And buzz us out."

"Sure."

Garrick walked me out of the ultra secure section, through the general prison and toward the warden's office.  He stopped holding my arm after a while.

Other prisoners stared at me as we walked.  My reflective chrome-colored skin always attracted a lot of attention from normal people.  While even the toughest guys in there gave the two of us a wide berth, many leered at me – especially with the slashes to my shirt from Vox’s talons.

It was interesting to me that the general population of Metrocity Jail was male, but they kept females in the super section.  I suppose having a separate prison just for them didn't make much sense given the cost of the extra security measures and the need for some super guards.

The guards at each checkpoint didn’t hesitate to open the gates for Garrick.  As both a super and one of the highest ranked guards in the facility, the others tended to act quickly for him.  It probably also helped that he was a nice guy to just about everyone.

I wondered if they’d have been as quick had I been another type of super, like a telepath.  Those were some scary people.  I remembered the comments from just days ago when Psystar spoke of Arissa blocking off my memories and making me her bodyguard and slave, in effect.

We waited in the receptionist’s room for a minute before she buzzed us into the warden’s office.  We walked in – he was sitting behind his desk looking through an inmate’s file.

He looked up at us after a moment, closed the file and set it on the desk.

The warden said, “What’s the situation, Garrick?”

The guard responded, “It happened, sir.  Check the video from a few minutes ago, Vox’s cell.”

“He’s one of the mutants, right?”

“Yes, sir.  Cell SS104.”

I figured SS must mean super secure, but thought it wiser to keep my mouth shut rather than ask. 
What’s going on – are they going to put Vox in a new level of security with him slashing at Garrick’s throat?  Why am I here?  It’s not as if they need testimony to the attack, if they have his cell being recorded then that ought to be all the proof they need.

The warden clicked a few times on his computer screen.  It was mostly turned away from me, but I caught a glimpse of what must be their video feed system.

I didn’t want to look like I was trying to peek at his computer, so I spent the time looking around the warden’s office.  It was nice – it reminded me of what a government official would have.  The desk was a large mahogany piece, and there were matching shelves on both the right and left walls with quite a few books.  Some of the titles had to do with government, others management, and quite a few on reform.  He had pictures on some shelves of himself with the mayor, Captain McCain, the governor and a few other notables.

While he was watching the video, his phone buzzed and the secretary announced over his intercom, “Warden, I have Captain McCain on the line for you.”

He replied, “Thank you, Jane.”

He pushed a button on the phone and said, “Hi Lon.  You’re on speakerphone.  I have Garrick and Chrome with me.”

They’d asked me a few days ago if I minded being called Chrome.  My real name was Selina Tiriad, but it seemed like most people liked using super nicknames – even for the criminals.  I personally didn’t care.  Since I’d changed into a super  my old life had pretty much been destroyed, along with the destroyed house, marriage and career.  It almost felt right to leave my name behind as well.

Captain McCain said, “Morning Jamis.  What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to ask if you were absolutely sure of what we spoke about on Monday?”

“About Chrome?  Yes.  I told you, I saw through her eyes what she’d been thinking, how she thought, the memories, you name it.  You said she’s there?  Did it happen already?”

Now they were talking in riddles.  Obviously some kind of conversation had occurred about me. 
Was it about the broken mop?  Wait – that happened in the cell before Vox’s.  Could it be because I punched him twice?

“Yes, a few minutes ago.  I’m watching the replay now, exactly as you said it would happen.”

Captain McCain chuckled, “I told you.  I have a fairly good feel for many supers.”

“You were right, but I’m still not a hundred percent certain.  It’s a big risk.”

“Jamis, would you like me to bring Psystar in there and have her do her thing with you and Chrome like she did for me?  I guarantee that it’s an eye opener.”

“No, there are too many security codes and other information rattling around in my brain.  I can’t chance a telepath being in it.”