The Weight of the World (27 page)

“Back
off,” Frank snapped at June.

“I
wouldn't have had to use my powers if Teddy hadn't gotten his head
cracked open by Peter,” Astin added.

“I
wouldn't have had to crack his head open if his mother had taught him
to speak respectfully about women,” Peter snapped back, rising to
his feet.

“Really,
Peter?” Astin asked, “Where is your mother?”

“I
don't need anyone defending me!” Penny hissed.

“ALRIGHT!
SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!” Jason barked. His voice rang off the walls.
Everyone stopped moving. Peter plunked down in his spot on the couch.
His form shimmered, threatening to turn invisible for a moment.

Jason
took a deep breath and shook his head. “Let's see, where do we
start? You,” he pointed at Peter. “Sticks and stones, right? If a
woman's honor can be taken away by something as flimsy as a few
words, your fists aren't going to win it back.”

“You,”
he said, turning to June, “Devon's pregnant. She's going to be
suffering the consequences of her actions for the rest of her life.
You don't need to add to that. You've got your own problems. Your
ex-boyfriend just beat up his best friend over you. Fix your own crap
and leave her alone.”

June
opened her mouth and closed it.

“Nick.
Keep it in your pants.”

“Oh,
come on!”

“I
know, you're hormonal, you're a teenager. You'll survive. I haven't
had sex in almost four years and somehow I'm still standing here. You
want to end up like Frank and Devon, expecting a baby before they
have a diploma?”

“No...”

“Then
keep it in your pants. You're going to ruin your own life as well as
some poor, insecure girl's and you're going to ruin our lives if some
girl you don't even care about pops out a mer-baby or something.
Keep. It. In. Your. Pants.”

Jason
shook his head, “We're all letting ourselves get stirred up by some
third-rate gossip queen. We're fueling it by fighting like this. At
the end of the day we only have each other to turn to for the bigger
picture. A week and a half ago you were all worried about the
possibility of a new Titan, but we can't focus on that possible
threat because we're all too busy trying to kill each other. Do you
really want to introduce Adam to our group when we're all at each
other's throats?”

“I'm
just tired of being pushed aside,” Evan said, quietly. “I meant
to have a quiet summer, work on my Night Prowler, sleep in...”

“Evan,”
Devon whispered, “I'm sorry.”

“Devon,”
Jason said, “You're going to have to grow up real fast these next
few months. No more head games. You have to be honest about what you
want, even with yourself.”

“Dr.
Livingstone, I know what I want, but it's not that easy.”

“Really?
What's getting in your way?”

“My
parents don't like Frank.”

“Well,
like it or not, Frank has a legal right to be that child's father.
You're eighteen in February, so by the time that baby is here, they
have absolutely no say in how you raise it. They might cut you off,
and I reckon that'll suck because you're used to a pretty high level
of comfort, but families get by without help from Mommy and Daddy
every day and you've got a family here.”

Devon
nodded.

“So
if you really want to raise that child with Frank instead of just
working out a custody agreement that's going to be miserable for you
all, I suggest you tell your parents that it's not their choice and
live with the consequences of that. Dragging Evan in as a distraction
was never going to fix your problems.”

“I
am really sorry Evan,” Devon said, louder this time.

“I
know. Just please, don't talk to me. You're not going to fix it by
apologizing, alright? Just let me hate you for a while.”

“Is
this episode of Maury over?” Nick asked, rising to his feet.

Jason
nodded. “Yeah. I suppose it is. I think every single one of you
ought to go home and think about what I said here.”

One
by one they stood up and filed out of Celene's front door. Nick shook
his head as he walked down the front steps. “Four years. Man. No
wonder he's so uptight.”

Frank
followed Devon home. Her parents weren't in, so he came upstairs to
help her pack a bag and load it in her car in case their planned
discussion ended with her being thrown out of the house.

When
Mr. Valentine arrived to find Frank in his home, he was furious.
Devon spoke her piece and Frank stood strong and silent behind her,
breathing deeply and keeping his anger in check.

Fifteen
minutes later, Frank was carrying the last of Devon's bags down the
front walk as Mr. Valentine hollered behind him.

“You
don't get to keep that car if you leave this house, young lady,” he
shouted.

“It's
a gift,” she said, feeling empowered and terrified at the same
time. “My name's on the title. You can sure-as-hell bet I'm keeping
it.”

Frank
opened the trunk and threw the bag inside. He stared back at Mr.
Valentine, as if daring him to stop them.

“Crap,”
Devon hissed as she got to the driver's side door. “I left the car
keys inside. I think I left them in the office when I grabbed my
laptop.” Devon supposed she would be selling the laptop and the car
in the next few months to buy diapers.

“I'll
get them,” Frank said. Was he smiling?

“You
are not setting foot in my house,” Mr. Valentine barked. Frank
picked Mr. Valentine up under his arms and placed him on the flower
bed, off the walkway. Frank marched inside, leaving Devon's father
speechless behind him.

He
looked around the dark office before spotting Devon's massive
key-ring sitting on the desk. He reached out and grabbed them,
accidentally bumping the mouse of the family computer in the process.
The enormous screen flickered to life as the computer woke up.
Discordia sat open on the desktop. Frank was about to leave, but he
glanced back when he realized that something was off. The latest
entry on the blog wasn't the standard photo, header, and block
paragraphs. It was brief and to the point with no images to accompany
it.

To
The Pantheon.

The
throne is empty. Olympus is mine. I'm coming for you.

-Atlas

“Devon,”
he called as he returned to the front yard. Mrs. Valentine was
sobbing and Mr. Valentine was dragging her into the house. “She's
made her choice,” he was saying, “We have to stand firm.”

Frank
marched down the walk, “Your computer... Discordia. It's been
updated.”

“What?”

“Discordia.
There's a new entry.”

“I
really don't care who is calling me a whore right now. Let's go.”

“It's
a Titan,” Frank said.

“What?”

Frank
looked back at Mr. and Mrs. Valentine. There was no way he trusted
them, now. Frank waved to her car. “Get in the car. Follow me.
We'll talk later.”

Frank
climbed onto his motorcycle and secured his helmet. He was
super-strong, not super-durable. He pulled onto the street ahead of
Devon and her red BMW followed. Devon glanced back in the rearview
mirror. Her mother watched her leave. Her father was already turned
around to head inside.

They
stopped at a rundown gas station on the way out towards his house.
Frank wanted to wait until they were away from prying ears to talk to
Devon, and he was running in empty. The station would have looked
abandoned if not for the lights at the pump. The adjacent convenience
store was locked up for the night, only allowing for credit and debit
purchases on the pump. Devon stuck close to Frank as he filled the
tank on his motorcycle.

“A
Titan?” she whispered, glancing around to double-check that they
really were alone.

Frank
nodded. “Discordia had a message for us. 'The throne is empty.
Olympus is mine. I'm coming for you. Atlas.'”

“Atlas?”

“You
tell me that could be an innocent coincidence.”

“Nothing
about that blog is innocent.”

“So
who is he?” Devon asked. “Who is Atlas?”

The
ground shook. Devon and Frank turned.

A
giant king crab was standing between Devon's car and the street. The
monster's legs and claws spanned sixteen feet. Its purple body was
covered in spines. It reared up on its hind legs, revealing an
off-white underbelly and snapping its claws. Buggy eyes looked down
on Frank and Devon.

“Get in the car,” Frank said. He turned to face the beast, ready
for a fight.

One
of its long legs swung at Frank. He saw the swift motion as if it was
slowed down and stepped to the side, watching as the tip slammed into
the concrete and cracked the pavement. Frank swung his shoulders back
and threw himself in the opposite direction as a second tip slammed
down, missing his body.

The
crab reared back again, clicking its boiler claws and taking several
swipes at Frank. Rows of legs passed over each other as it gracefully
moved around him in a wide arc. Frank ducked each blow with honed
reflexes, taking the time to calmly watch and adjust to each movement
the monster made.

There
was a yellow cement post bolted to the ground next to the pump to
prevent cars from crashing into it. Frank wrapped his arms around the
base and pulled. The bolts stripped from the concrete and left Frank
wielding a cement club.

The
crab's attacks became more frustrated and frantic. It advanced on
Frank, aiming the sharp tips on its middle legs at Frank's chest in
quick, alternating swipes. Frank stumbled as one leg came too close
for comfort.

He
regained his footing directly beneath the body of the goliath. Frank
crouched down and sprang up, swinging the post towards the sky. It
caught the white underbelly of the crab. Knock-back was an
understatement. The force of Frank's blow sent the creature flying
into the air. It came down hard in the middle of the street, leaving
a crater in the road.

The
shell of the monster was cracked. It writhed on its back, claws
swinging blindly at the night sky. Then it fell still. Slowly, the
surface of the shell began to glow. The glow collected into thousands
of white lights that grew until the creature was a blinding
spectacle. Then the lights shot into the sky and the body of the
beast was gone.

“What
was that?” Devon shouted out the window of her car.

Frank
looked around for traffic cameras. There were none in this run-down
neighborhood. Good.

“I
think that was a message from Atlas,” Frank said. “Our Titan has
been playing Divide and Conquer.” He picked up his motorcycle
helmet. “We're not going to my house, we're going to Teddy's. Call
him on the way and let him know we're coming.”

“
Kindness
begets kindness.
”

-Greek
Proverb

x
xiii.

The
heavens' weight at the top of the mountain

was
causing the limestone peak to start to crack.

So
when Hercules came to fetch the apples

he
made a fair trade.