A Hesitant Hero (Book 1): So Not A Hero Read online

  The car exploded and metal shrapnel coupled with bits of burning rubber pelted my back like a machine gun. I kept the woman shielded from the blast and glanced up to see the two heads slowly rise up from the other side of the concrete slab. Both seemed unhurt, though from the looks on their faces, I would bet that at least one had pissed himself.

  Slowly I stood up and unfurled my arms, releasing the old lady. Her chest rose and fell rapidly and wide brown eyes looked everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I picked her up and carried her carefully around the wall and set her down on the sidewalk next to the teens. The headphones were dangling around their necks and one of them had his mouth hanging open as he watched me.

  “Listen, you guys stay here and keep an eye on this woman until the paramedics get here.”

  The both stared blankly and I huffed and snapped my fingers several times in front of one of their noses.

  “Uh, yeah,” one of them said.

  The other one pointed at a spot behind me. “Like, you’re on fire, chick.”

  I turned and realized my hoodie was smoldering. It had been loose enough that it extended beyond the protective aura of my invulnerability. I ripped off the burning jacket and tossed it into the street. “Thanks. Think you two can keep this nice woman safe?”

  Neither answered and I followed their vapid gaze down to the swell cleavage rising out of the tank top I was wearing. I want to slap them both for leering, but another thunderclap rumbled closer to us and I needed them alert and helpful, not broken and unconscious. I gritted my teeth and looked at the scared woman.

  “You will be safe here, Sobo,” I said in Japanese. “Help is coming.”

  She nodded slowly and I stood up. No longer having a perfect view down my shirt seemed to snap at least one of the teens out of his stupor and he moved closer to the woman. I gave him a small smile and started towards my backpack. The police and other assorted authority figures were probably on their way and I figured it might be best if I wasn’t here when they arrived.

  Before I could run away, a section of the building across the street exploded in a fountain of bricks and mortar as it spit out a humanoid figure. The blue-suited man tumbled end over end on his way towards the hard asphalt of the parking lot.

  I swore softly. “Son of a bitch.”

  I surged forward, tapping into my enhanced speed as my legs kicked into gear to propel me across four lanes, and another hundred feet through the lot just in time to catch the falling figure in my arms. I didn’t have the slightest clue where my sense of self-preservation had gone. Or why it’d left me with good deeds as a replacement. I hadn’t given much consideration to anything other than catching the dude before he went splat on the ground.

  He let out a little ‘oomph’ and I spun around to let my back hit the car parked directly in my path rather than the man I carried. The side of the vehicle caved in and I looked down at the man I’d just saved.

  Warm brown eyes stared up at me though a pair of thick omni-plex goggles. Up close, I noticed the blue uniform covering him from neck to toe was actually composed of hundreds of small dura-steel plates that overlapped like scaled armor. The yellow Double G emblem on his chest, however, revealed his identity.

  I’d just caught Mister Manpower, member of one of the city’s premier super-teams: The Good Guys.

  “I think you can put me down, now. Thanks for the save. My suit might have kept me from getting too injured, but I’m glad I didn’t have to find out for sure.”

  I set him down and took a step back, fighting every instinct I had to run away before he recognized me. “I … uh … you’re welcome?”

  He stuck out a hand. “I’m Mister Manpower.”

  I shook it carefully and looked down at my feet. I could feel the bars of the Max already and wished I’d just taken off when I’d had the chance. Could I have lived with the guilt of letting that nice old lady die in a fiery explosion? I was probably going to have a couple of years as a returning guest of the Federal government to answer that question.

  “Well, isn’t this nice? Looks like someone found a fan.”

  The hero and I both turned to see four figures striding through the lot in our direction. Each was dressed in the style of a 50’s motorcycle gang, complete with black leather hats and silver chains dangling from their pants. They could have been extras from that old movie The Wild One. Two of them were female, about my age, and nearly identical in appearance. Halos of green energy crackled around their hands. I didn’t know their real names, but they called themselves the Electro-Twins. One male was easily seven feet tall and built like steroid-addicted gorilla. His blood-red eyes flickered from Manpower to me with a glint of recognition and a shitload of hate. Which didn’t surprised me at all, since Behemoth and I hadn’t ever got along.

  The last member of the quartet was a guy of average build and cocky smile that seemed to just beg to be knocked off his face. Only problem with attempting to do that was the fact that Nite-Star possessed Class III telekinesis. Not only could he pick up and throw things the size of an SUV, he could solidify the air around him to form a protective shield. When he saw me standing with one of the Good Guys, the corner of that grin ticked up another notch.

  I released the hero’s hand and groaned as I leaned against the dented car. It would be just my luck to get in the middle of a fight between Mister Manpower and the Brickwall Gang.

  “Color me surprised,” Nite-Star said with a hint of mirth in his voice. “How you been, Crushette? It’s been a few years, huh?”

  I rolled my eyes and looked at the other three as they moved into positions to flank Mister Manpower and me. “Hello, Nite. Still taking fashion advice from Brando, I see.” I heard the hero beside me snicker and cut my eyes over to see him take a step back and lean against another car. He placed his hands on the driver’s door and tried to look like he was merely enjoying the tête à tête between the gang’s leader and myself. However, I did catch the way his fingers seemed to sink slowly into the metal and grab hold.

  Shit, this was going to go down hard and fast.

  “You and that smart mouth of yours, Crushette. I don’t know what Doctor M ever saw in you. I mean, sure, nice tits and ass, but way too much mouth for my taste.”

  “Considering your favorite flavor, if I remember correctly, was Streetwalker, I’m glad I don’t satisfy your palate.”

  He laughed and then nodded to the other three. Before anyone else could make a move, Mister Manpower ripped the door off the car behind him and spun around to fling it into Behemoth’s face. Bone crunched and blood splattered as the big guy flew backwards and slid across the asphalt. His regeneration power would keep him from being down long, but in the meantime, the blue-clad hero was vaulting over the hood of the car after the Twins.

  When I turned my attention back to Nite-Star, he pointed at me and raised his hand over his head. Vertigo slammed into my stomach as I was ripped from gravity’s embrace and held thirty feet above the ground. He laughed and turned around towards the bus stop before throwing me back across the street.

  I tucked into a ball as I hit the bench I’d been sharing with the lady not ten minutes earlier. The exploding car had scorched some of the boards but it had otherwise remained intact. Until I landed on it, that is. The seat splintered and shattered, as did the concrete beneath. I lay there looking up at that clear blue sky again. This day was going to crap faster than I’d have believed possible.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  I rolled over and pushed myself to my feet. One of the teens was standing nearby, looking at me with a little less shock than he’d been wearing the last time I’d seen him. A second later, his friend popped up as well. Right behind him, the grandmother. What the hell? Doesn’t anyone listen to good advice anymore?

  “What the hell are you still doing here? You guys were supposed to get her someplace safe.”

  The taller of the two boys looked at his friend and then back to me. “Uh, actually you told us to wait here for
the police and stuff. But no one’s come.” His eyes dropped from mine for a second and the brainless expression on his face grew into a happy smile. I glanced over to see his friend wearing the same expression. They both looked like they’d just stumbled onto a treasure chest full of gold.

  Or … adult magazines.

  I looked down to see that my crashing through the sharp wooden slats had done absolutely no damage to my flesh, but it’d ripped the hell out of my tank. The underside of one breast poked out through a tear on the side and the shoulder strap on the other side was sliced clean through. I was about thirty seconds away from a major wardrobe malfunction.

  “Really guys? I’m trying to keep your sorry asses from getting squished or blown up and all you can do is put a deposit in the spank ba–” My complaint was interrupted by a U.S. Postal Service mailbox slamming into my side like a freight train and knocking me away from the three civilians.

  I tumbled ass over teakettle down the sidewalk and came to a stop next to a streetlight. I shook my head and looked across the street as Nite-Star strolled towards me as if taking a leisurely tour of an art gallery.

  “You really should pay more attention to what’s going on around you. I put up with a lot of your smart-mouthed crap when you and the Doc were all tight. I mean, everyone wanted to bust your ass, but nobody was dumb enough to go against your boyfriend. But now that you’re not his squeeze anymore, I think it’s time for a reckoning.”

  “Someone’s been reading their thesaurus,” I said as I tried to get up.

  He gestured again, and the red, white, and blue steel rectangle pounded on me from above. “No, I ain’t done with your skinny ass by a long shot.” The mailbox came down three more times, each blow driving me a little deeper into the crater in the sidewalk. “Maybe when I’ve had enough fun kicking your ass, I’ll hand you over to some friends of mine to play with. I think they have a thing for Half-Jap-Poon.”

  He laughed and rammed me with the mailbox again. A piece of the dented letter holder snagged on my pants and ripped them up one leg from knee to hip. My brother had given me those pants as a birthday gift before he died. Picked them out by himself and bought them with his own allowance. My hands curled into tightly bound fists.

  Now, I was really pissed.

  CHAPTER 2: AN UNEXPECTED OFFER

  I rolled over to my knees and held up one hand in a supplicating manner. “Hold on a second.” Amazingly enough, the mailbox didn’t knock me back down and I got to my feet. I put a little extra sway in my stance and when I looked at Nite-Star, I blinked several times as if unable to focus. If I didn’t come up with some sort of plan quick-like, I was going to spend the rest of the morning getting battered like a beach ball at a concert. “Come on, Ray. Whatever is going on between you and Mister Manpower, it doesn’t concern me.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and continued flashing that asinine grin, apparently enjoying the idea that he was cleaning the clock of someone who’d made his life a hell and a half in the past. I decided right then that I was so going to knock it off his face. No matter what it cost.

  “Manpower? Shit. That over the hill do-gooder showed up when we were making our withdrawal from the bank.” He said before gesturing at the dented letter container. It rose a few feet off the ground and hovered in the air menacingly. “Anyways, this ain’t got nothing to do with him. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” He flicked his wrist and the box slammed into me again, sending me flying backwards into the flaming car behind me.

  The fire scorched my pants a little before I was able to get back to my feet. As I stood, I ripped a piece of the car’s frame loose and balled it up. Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. “You never had the balls before. Why now?” I threw the chunk of metal at him as hard as I could.

  He held up both hands, fingers spread wide, right before the impromptu fastball could hit his smug little face. It bounced off the solidified air around him and rolled to a stop in the gutter. “That’s because you were Doctor Maniac’s girl. Everybody knows that. If I’d tried shutting your mouth the way I wanted, I would have had to deal with him. And nobody wants that, right?” He lowered his hands and pointed at the mailbox again. It was battered and dinged, but still looked just as sturdy as ever. Especially when Nite twirled his finger and it began to spin. “But it seems that your protected status has expired. Word is, the Doc don’t give a shit about you anymore. You must have done something really bad to go from arm candy to trash, huh?”

  Well … shit. I’d hoped that my parole deal with the EAPF would’ve remained a secret. Of course, I should have known better. Martin had connections all over the place, including in law enforcement. “What if the rumors are wrong, Nite? What do you think he’s going to do to you if you hurt me?”

  “Good point, C. Hey, I know! I’ll kill you and blame it on the hero? I mean, ex-convict Crushette has a run-in with a Good Guy and dies resisting arrest. That way, you’re dead and I don’t have to worry about ending up as one of Doctor M’s little experiments.” He snapped his arm in the air and sent the mailbox zooming at me again.

  This time, I put up both hands and let my palms take the brunt of the impact. Concrete cracked under my sneakers as the force of his attack tried to push me back into the burning wreckage while I did my best to remain standing. I shoved back on the box and he countered by bringing up his other hand to increase his attack His jaw clenched tightly, eyes staring at the mailbox.

  Bingo.

  “All this time, I thought you were just jealous that my powers were cooler than yours.” I sunk my fingers into the metal and pulled as I spun around, yanking the metal square free from his control. The action caught him off guard and he stumbled forward a couple of steps while I completed my turn. I hurled the mailbox back at him like a discus.

  I actually saw his shit-eating grin falter, then widen, as he recovered from my feint and put up both hands, slowing the projectile to a stop a few feet from his chest. He looked over the top of the floating object, mouth open with some witty remark, most likely.

  I guess about the time his brain processed what it was seeing, he realized his mistake.

  When I’d hurled the mailbox back to him, I took off running right behind it at maximum speed. I guess Nite had forgotten that I was not only strong and tough, but also fast. However, I hadn’t forgotten about his powers, especially the limitation.

  An Enhanced with telekinesis can move objects with just the power of their mind. But that type of power needs some type of focus. Much like the way a wizard uses a wand. For most TK’ers, their hands serve as this focus until they gain enough discipline.

  Nite-Star had all the discipline of a spoiled teenager.

  He’d used both hands to stop the crumpled piece of car from hitting him. And he’d done it again to catch the mailbox. Both hands occupied with a single task. Which meant that none of them were creating a protective field. That little tidbit might have occurred to him when I zipped past the dented red/blue box to his side and punched him in the sternum.

  Since I didn’t want murder on my hands, I dialed back on my strength so that I wouldn’t knock his internal organs through his spine. However, the bones in his chest did crack. The air whooshed out of his lungs like it couldn’t get away fast enough. As his eyes bugged and he crumpled over my fist, I opened my hand and pushed. Nite launched into the air and sailed back across the street to the parking lot.

  After all, turnabout is fair play.

  He came down out of the air and would have gone splat on the asphalt had Manpower not been there to catch him. The hero snagged Nite-Star right before impact and threw him over his right shoulder. Behind him on the asphalt lay a pile of Brickwall Gang members. Unfortunately for the Electro-Twins, they were pinned under Behemoth. If the big goon had been awake, he might have enjoyed straddling two pretty girls. However, like the other three, he was out cold. Mister Manpower gave me a smile and a two-fingered salute before adding Nite to the collection.

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nbsp; I walked back over to the trio of bystanders and knelt down before the old woman. She had a look on her face that told me she’d not expected to get caught in the middle of an Enhanced battle as a part of her day. In all fairness, neither had I. “Are you okay?” I said as I looked her over for any cuts or bruises. “I’m sorry you were in danger.”

  She put her hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye. Her smile was a genuine as any I’d ever seen. “Hiro,” she said as she patted my shoulder. “Good girl.”

  I shook my head. I wasn’t a hero. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Yeah, I might have thrown a beat-down on a super-villain, but that didn’t mean I was championing for truth and justice. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time and got suckered into a fight with someone who had been hating me for a while.

  “Dude,” one of the teen boys said rocking back on his heels. “You were awesome. And I got the proof right here.” He held out his phone.

  Great, now the video of this little escapade was going to wind up on the internet and I was probably going to have to suck and swallow to keep from getting sent back for violating my parole.

  I sighed and looked up at the sky. “Kid, I am so not a hero.”

  “Actually,” a voice said from behind me, “I might have to differ.”

  I turned to find Manpower standing there, looking not the least bit put out from having corralled three powerful villains. He’d pushed his goggles up onto his forehead and eyes the color of the warm chocolate remained steadily fixed upon my own.

  “Holy shit,” one of the boys exclaimed, “it’s Mister Manpower. Can I get a selfie?”

  While the hero and the kids were busy snapping photos, I grabbed my backpack and pulled another hoodie from inside. As I slipped it over my nearly destroyed top, I felt the tap of someone at my back. I turned to see the little grandmother was smiling up at me.