According to Lee, anyone who chooses to fight you has a reason to think they’ll win. They may not be right, but they’ve got a reason, and the sooner you know it, the better.
I had no idea why they thought they could beat us.
Granted, we were supposedly there to talk, but what were the chances of that?
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 8
After the attack of the week before, we’d made the patrols less obvious. No more swinging through the streets, or even flying low for Vaughn and Daniel. We concentrated on stealth, or at least on keeping a low profile.
We didn’t see any more snipers.
They’d apparently decided to go for another method of attack — and so had we.
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 7
On Monday, when I went back to school, I couldn’t help but notice that all the members of Justice Fist seemed to be tired.
I’d have put it down to them spending a lot of time by Lucas bedside, except I hadn’t seen any of them when we were there. And really, I only saw Jody, Dayton, and Sean. They were walking ahead of me in the hall. Sean had ditched the crutches, but he still limped a little on the leg where I kicked him.
He limped a little more that day.
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 6
“Before you know it,” turned out to be a bit of an exaggeration.
He arrived on Saturday afternoon, complete with chaperon, meeting me in front of the parking garage behind the hospital.
The area around the hospital was one of those spots in Grand Lake that felt like a big city. The highway that ran through downtown wasn’t far off, and we could hear it. The hospital, a big, block-shaped, brick building, sprawled across the street. The new medical research institute, a long metal and glass building that could have been stolen from the cover of a science fiction novel, stretched as long as the combined hospital and garage.
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 5
“It was one of those two A.M. phone calls,” Vaughn said. “You know, the ones that are either going to be incredibly good, or incredibly bad.”
The cafeteria was mostly empty and lunch hour was mostly over. Vaughn had happened to pass my table on the way out. Courtney and Keith were sitting with me, so I couldn’t say much.
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 4
“You worked for the Cabal? When?”
“Not recently,” Lee said. “I helped overthrow a couple emperors during the Roman Empire. Second time around, they didn’t pay me, so I killed the guy they were trying to get in, and took power myself.”
Haley looked up at me. Her expression probably meant, “Is he serious?”
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 3
The stealth suit didn’t have as much hardware in it as the regular Rocket suit, but it could sense damage. The damage readouts showed a “2” in red.
“2” meant that at least one bullet had passed the jacket’s outer layer, and into the inner gel layer, but had stopped before going through the layer I could wear under clothes. Passing through that layer would have been a “3.”
A “3” meant that I would be visiting the hospital soon, if I were lucky.
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 2
I don’t remember exactly who made the patrol schedule, but whoever it was never scheduled Haley and I on the same night.
I asked Cassie about it one night, and she’d said they tried to match people’s movement styles, like putting people who could fly together, for example. “And also,” she’d said, “We want you to patrol instead of making out in the car.”
Continue reading Counterattack: Part 1