The second chance of dar.., p.26
The Second Chance of Darius Logan, page 26
The robot’s arm tore through its leg. The giant machine toppled to the ground, its second leg snapping in two as it fell. It struggled to set itself back up, but with both legs broken in two, it couldn’t stand. Instead, it found a compromise in a seated position, its bottom two arms serving as supports holding it upright.
Darius took off into the air, flying a hundred yards above the ground. He turned to face the Super Killbot, holding the severed arm like a giant lance. The machine locked its sensors on Darius and fired an energy blast from one of its remaining arms. Darius swerved, dodging the blast as he flew at top speed toward the Super Killbot. He drove the metallic arm into the chest of the killing machine with such force the two bottom arms snapped and it fell backward. Another shower of sparks brought a twisted smile to Darius’s face.
The Super Killbot struggled to move, looking like an animal that had been hit by a car. It was a twisted mess of damaged circuitry and malfunctioning sensors, but it was still functioning—still alive. And it needed to be put out of its misery.
Darius stood over the fallen machine, staring at what would be considered its face. The mechanical eyes locked on Darius and the sensors kicked in. “Darius Logan. Target acquired,” it said.
The remaining mechanical arm moved and pointed at Darius. He grabbed it by the wrist, and without flinching, tore the entire arm off.
The Super Killbot tried to bring one of its other arms around to beat on Darius, but the arm had been snapped in half, a mangled stump of damaged circuitry. The machine continued to scan Darius, unable to do anything else.
Up until this moment, no one had ever seen a machine like the modified ACU-64. That was because it didn’t exist. Someone had put it together from disassembled parts stored in the fifth subbasement at SJF headquarters—one of the most heavily secured places on the planet. And whoever had managed to put this thing together—right under the nose of Super Justice Force—also activated it, along with all the others. This was no accident. They knew what the deadly machines were capable of. And they had specifically targeted Darius for termination.
Darius wondered if whoever reactivated the Killbots was watching him through a video feed built into the eyes of the last ACU-64.
“I don’t know if you can see me or hear me,” said Darius. “But if you can, know this: I will find you. I will kill you.”
And with that, Darius let loose an energy blast from his hands that turned the head of the Super Killbot to dust.
The media started calling it Black Thanksgiving before the day ended. Mere hours had passed, the rescue operation well under way, and the world, having watched much of the horror unfold while it happened, reeled in a state of shock and mourning.
The list of casualties boggled the mind. Zander Boeman, member of the elite Galaxus Alliance Corps. Rocky Feldman, beloved hero and international spokesman for metahuman rights. White Dynamo, television star and former partner of Black Fist. All of them were dead. Also dead were Speed Skater, Limelight, and the Jackhammer, three trainees of the Teen Justice Force, and four other unlicensed superpowers no one ever heard of. The media focused on the fallen heroes, their names coming up over and over again in the worldwide conversations about Black Thanksgiving.
Twenty-five of the city’s finest police officers and twelve emergency rescue workers had been killed in the battle. Their names were hardly mentioned, and instead of individuals, they seemed destined to be remembered by history as the “Black Thanksgiving Thirty-Seven.” Although their names may not be known right away, they would be honored in a parade, there would eventually be a memorial of some kind, and the mayor and the president and other leaders would make speeches.
The biggest losses of life, however, were not among heroes of Super Justice Force, the twenty-five cops, and the twelve emergency rescue workers. The hardest hit by Black Thanksgiving was the Operations Crew of Super Justice Force. Their death toll hit eighty-two, and that did not include family members attending the annual Thanksgiving dinner for employees who had to work. All told, there were one hundred and seven deaths that the media all but ignored.
Darius knew most of the casualties from Operations Crew. He had worked with many of them, passed them in the halls; he even trained one of them.
Doug Baum was working in the kitchen on Thanksgiving, helping prepare the meal for employees and their families. His own family was there—his ex-wife, with whom he was reconciling, and their two kids. After Doug helped his family and those in the employee cafeteria escape, he went back to help evacuate the other buildings. Monica Firor, the other employee Darius had trained, was among those helped by Doug. She had been knocked from her wheelchair during a blast and lay unconscious on the floor when Doug found her and carried her to safety. Monica was still unconscious when Doug went back to help others. A few minutes later, a wall collapsed on him, and he died instantly.
The media, and by default much of the world, dwelled less on the dead than on one person in particular. People became obsessed with the mysterious figure spotted battling the ACU-64s. Footage of what looked like a Black kid in a bloody T-shirt, single-handedly taking on the deadly Killbots and laying waste to the machines, captured the imagination of the world. He was, by all accounts, the hero of the hour. Unfortunately, no one knew his identity.
That kid, who became the instant subject of online conversations and news broadcasts, had assisted with the rescue operation immediately following the battle. Side by side with those he knew and didn’t know, Darius sifted through the rubble, looking for survivors. He lost count of the hours and the dead bodies he found, each one a reminder of the similar tragedy that had robbed him of his own family. Finally, when Darius lifted the collapsed wall and saw the lifeless body of Doug Baum, he’d had enough. He quietly slipped away and left to be with the people who needed him most.
Amidst all the tragedy were bits and pieces of good news, or perhaps it was slightly less tragic news. Otto Rekker had survived the battle. The last time Darius saw him, Otto was slugging it out with four ACU-64s. The machines had done their worst damage to Otto, but miraculously, he had lived. He lost his human arm in the fight, which he’d regularly referred to as his “good arm.”
Manny survived as well, but Darius didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. Manny sustained severe burns on over seventy-five percent of his body. His legs and spine were crushed. The legs could be replaced with new bionic ones, but science and modern medicine still had no biomechatronic repairs for a spinal injury, which meant Manny still wouldn’t be able to walk. And that was if he lived. Uncertain of Manny’s chances, the doctors had him in a medically-induced coma.
Elladia sat at her uncle’s bedside, praying for him, though she doubted it would do any good. She had spent years praying for her parents, and they were still dead.
Lady Ixchel sat next to Elladia, the two women holding hands. Neither had slept in almost twenty-four hours. Both were ravaged by fear and sadness, exhausted from no sleep, too much crying, and the mental anguish of preparing for the worst.
Manny had been secretly dating someone for months, but no one knew who. Everyone wondered who she was, what she did for a living, and how she and Manny met. Seeing Lady Ixchel sitting at Manny’s bedside, crying as though she’d lost her lover, Darius knew all those answers. For the briefest of moments, Darius overflowed with happiness. And then reality set in. Manny might not live.
Darius stood behind Elladia and Lady Ixchel, looking down on Manny. Before coming to the hospital—MTSU had been destroyed—Darius had pulled more dead bodies from the rubble of HQ than any eighteen-year-old should ever have to. None of the broken and battered dead bodies looked as bad as Manny.
Elladia sensed Darius’s presence in the room, but Lady Ixchel was lost, nearly catatonic. Darius had seen her on the battlefield in front of Super Justice Force HQ. She’d fought hard and strong. She survived when others had not. Now she looked weak and defeated.
“The doctors say he can’t feel anything,” Darius said. He couldn’t think of anything else emotionally comforting to say.
Elladia got up from her seat and guided Darius to the entrance of the hospital room. There was no need for Lady Ixchel to hear the conversation—if she could hear through her dazed emotional state.
“If he lives, he won’t ever walk again,” Elladia whispered.
“He’ll live, and we’ll deal with it.”
Darius cautiously put his hands on Elladia’s shoulders. Would she feel the same energy surge he felt whenever he had physical contact with Zander?
If Elladia felt anything, she didn’t let it show. “Have you seen Anna and the kids?” she asked.
“Not yet,” said Darius.
Elladia’s eyes were weak and bloodshot from hours of crying.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Elladia.
“First, you need to be strong for Manny. You are the most important thing in the world to him. Be strong for him so he can concentrate on healing,” Darius said.
“I don’t know if I can do it,” said Elladia.
Darius took Elladia by the hand. “You’re strong. That’s one of the reasons I love you so much.”
“You love me?”
“I love you.”
Darius had never said it before. He’d meant to say it barely twenty-fours ago, before the world was torn apart. Given a second chance, he had to make sure she knew how he felt.
Darius leaned forward and gently kissed Elladia, and she knew that every choice she had made about Darius had been the right one. She lifted one of his hands to her lips and kissed it. That’s when she saw his wrist.
The Mhadra Turas glowed bright, and Elladia stared in disbelief. She looked at his other wrist, equally stunned, as if the two were more of a shock than the one.
Darius could see Elladia trying to process everything. Her boyfriend—the man she loved—had Mhadra Turas fused to his wrists. You only became joined with Mhadra Turas when it separated from the host—someone in the Galaxus Alliance Corps. It meant a Galaxus had died.
“Who?” asked Elladia.
“Zander.”
Elladia looked like she wanted to cry, but there were no more tears left. She knew how much Zander meant to Darius. And she knew that Darius’s life had changed forever. Suddenly, she felt small and insignificant. Darius had become part of the most elite group in the universe.
“Why are you here?” Elladia asked.
“Because you need me.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Not as long as you need me.”
“I will always need you,” said Elladia. “But right now, others need you more. Go. I give you permission. I’ll be strong.” Elladia kissed Darius goodbye. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
Darius left Elladia and Lady Ixchel in the hospital room to worry about Manny.
Before he could leave the hospital, Darius had to see Otto. He quietly entered the room. Anna Rekker sat curled up in a chair. The twins, Reinier and Aziza, were nowhere to be seen.
Anna stirred, looking around the room for a moment, disoriented and uncertain where she was. She saw Otto in the bed, then turned and saw Darius. She smiled a tired smile, but behind the exhaustion, Darius saw a strength that he envied.
“Where are the twins?” Darius whispered.
“I took them to my mother before I came here. They don’t need to see their father like this,” said Anna.
“How is he?” Darius asked.
“He’s doped up pretty good,” Anna said.
“I cannnnn hhhearrrr youuuuu,” said Otto. “Issssh that Biiiiig D?”
“It’s me.”
“C’mere sssho I can sssheee yyyyooou,” Otto said.
Otto didn’t look as bad as Manny, but only because he was conscious, which made him look like the walking dead. His face, a mass of pummeled flesh, had been stitched back together, and both his arms—organic and bionic—were missing. An IV tube steadily dripped painkillers and antibiotics into his leg.
Darius moved closer. Otto being alive was a miracle—even if he wasn’t in one piece.
“Yyyooou sssssshaved Maaaaannyyyyy,” said Otto. Tears flowed from his eyes. “Yyyooouuu shhhaaaaaved my bessssht frieeeeend.”
“We saved him. Together. You and me.”
“Yyyyou sssshaaaaved my bessssht frieeeend. Yoooooou ssssshaved ussssh aaaaall.”
Otto drifted off into a drug-induced sleep brought about by a morphine drip.
Anna joined Darius at Otto’s side. She looked down at her husband and did not see the broken wreck of a man that lay in the bed. She saw the father of her children—alive. Nothing else mattered.
“The doctors say he’ll be fine,” said Anna. “It will just take time.”
“How are Aziza and Reinier?” Darius asked.
“They’re Rekkers. They’ll get through this. How is Elladia?”
“Not good,” said Darius. “I just left, but I need to be with her.”
“Then why aren’t you?”
Darius held his hands up in front of his face so Anna could see what encircled his wrists. Her eyes grew wide, and though he wasn’t sure, Darius thought he saw a hint of sadness.
“There’s all this stuff in my brain, and I don’t know what most of it is. I know things that I don’t understand, and understand things I don’t know,” said Darius. He looked at the Mhadra Turas around his wrists, more uncertain than at any other time in his life. Everything had changed. “I have to leave Earth. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.”
Anna pulled Darius close, holding him tight like a mother holds her frightened child. It had been years since anyone held him that way—not since his mother had died. Anna whispered soothingly, “It’ll be all right. We love you. You’ve got our love to keep you strong. Don’t ever forget that.”
Anna released Darius, kissing him on the cheek.
“Promise one thing,” Darius said. “Promise that if anything happens to me—today or ten years from now—make sure you tell Elladia that I love her. Tell her every day.”
Anna wanted to tell Darius that nothing would happen to him—that everything would be fine. But the events of the last twenty-four hours would only make her a liar. And the Mhadra Turas that had become part of Darius served as an even greater reminder of the uncertainty ahead. Anna had been with Otto too long, had heard too many stories about the lives of the people he worked with, and so she knew that anything that made Darius like the others—the ones who saved the day so that people like her and her kids could be safe—might not always be a good thing.
Anna looked at Darius and saw little more than a child, a young man not even nineteen years old. Her children called him Uncle Big D and loved him like family. He was family—the godfather to her and Otto’s unborn baby. And now Darius had become Mhadra Turas—part of the Galaxus Alliance Corps. Anna Rekker worried that he would not live to see the birth of his own godchild. The least she could do, in the very likely event something happened to Darius, was remind Elladia that he loved her.
“I’ll tell her every day,” said Anna.
“And tell Aziza and Reinier that I love them too,” said Darius. “I really do.”
“And they love you,” said Anna. “They love their Uncle Big D more than you’ll ever know.”
Darius fought back tears as he thought about the Rekker twins. He didn’t want to be robbed of watching them grow up. His heart ached, and even the cosmic power that he now possessed could not stop the pain. Darius wanted to stay with them—with all of them. They were all his family—Elladia and Manny, the Rekker family—and they were all hurt and scared, uncertain of the hours and days and weeks to come.
Darius wanted to stay and protect all of them. He had the strength to protect them. But he had other things to do.
He left Anna Rekker alone in the hospital room, as Otto woke from his sleep, mumbling to himself, “He sssshaved usssh all.”
Captain Freedom waited for Darius in the hallway outside Otto Rekker’s hospital room, sitting on a plastic chair that strained under his mass of muscle. He looked battered and exhausted, like a war-weary soldier fresh from the front lines. His rugged face—streaked with dirt and soot and dried blood—belonged to a man who had seen too much, done too much, and wanted nothing more than a chance to rest. Captain Freedom stared deep into his cup of coffee, as if the steaming dark liquid held the answers to all the questions of life.
An Asian woman, dressed in the uniform of the Galaxus Alliance Corps, sat next to Captain Freedom. By comparison, her diminutive size almost made her look like a child. But the blood and dirt that streaked her face identified her as a veteran of the same war as Captain Freedom.
Captain Freedom blew on his coffee to cool it down, not that it could have burned him. He took a sip and closed his eyes. “How long have you known?” he asked.
“Not long,” said the woman. “Zander told me over the summer.”
“You’re telling me that he knew, and he didn’t tell anyone else?”
“It’s complicated.”
Captain Freedom took another sip of coffee. He had more to say—more he wanted to know. Exhaustion kept him silent.
The door to Otto Rekker’s room opened, and Darius stepped out into the hallway, showing no surprise at finding Captain Freedom waiting.
“I was wondering when someone would come looking for me,” said Darius.
“We knew where to find you. And we knew you had things to attend to,” said Captain Freedom. He didn’t bother to get up from the chair. “How is Manny?”
“Not good,” said Darius.
“And Elladia?”
“Pretty bad. I should be with her now.”
“There’re always going to be times when we have to leave behind the ones we love, in order to do what needs to be done,” said Captain Freedom.
“Yeah, Zander told me something like that once,” Darius said. “It was almost like he was trying to prepare me for … this.”
Darius held up his hands and stared at the bands around his wrists. He looked at the Asian woman standing next to Captain Freedom. “You’re here for me,” Darius said.
