I sent everybody a red, and a message. Then I ran back to the lab, and started to put on the Rocket suit.
I’d spent a lot of time fixing and modifying the Rocket suit that summer, but I hadn’t spent much time figuring out how to get it on faster. You know how the armor comes from all directions and attaches itself in the Iron Man movies? I needed that.
The portable briefcase version wouldn’t have hurt either. Continue reading Under 30: Part 14
I wore the full Rocket armor. Pulling the stealth suit out of my closet at home would have been faster, but according to Grandpa and the reports, Dixie Superman had been tough. Flying into a fight with Dixie Supergirl in less than full gear sounded stupid.
And how much did I want to bet that more of her group was in the crowd?
After running to HQ, plus five minutes worth of pulling the armor on, and a twenty second flight to Grand Lake State Park (with Marcus gliding behind me, shifted into the form of a pair of wings), we were too late.
Not completely too late because she wasn’t gone, but it would have been better if we’d all arrived and attacked simultaneously.
Continue reading Under 30: Part 11
“Are you crazy? Don’t you see a difference between killing a guy because he’s trying to kill you, and killing him when he’s practically dead?”
Sean reddened.
“He was a killer, and I stopped him. You weren’t going to. I did what had to be done. What were you going to do, hand him over to the cops? He’d only escape again.”
“I don’t know what I was going to do. All I know is that you didn’t kill him because you think the system doesn’t work. You were going for revenge.” Continue reading The Executioner: Part 11
Ray hit the power lines hard, ripping two from the crossbar in a shower of sparks, and hitting the utility pole with his back.
His strength made it worse.
When you’re falling, the most natural thing in the world is to reach out, and grab the nearest thing you can as hard as you can.
He grabbed a power line. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 10
Next to me, Rachel said, “Does he really think he’s going to stop Ray by himself?”
I didn’t say anything. I’d pulled up my communicator. They’d given Sean one, and he’d managed not to trash it yet. I clicked, and got a GPS view of the team including Sean’s dot.
He was flying toward the address Gimpius had given us. Continue reading The Executioner: Part 2
It’s a bit of an understatement to say that Sean wouldn’t have been my first choice of companions.
I decided to ignore him, and texted Jaclyn.
Me: Can you check my dad’s office?
Jaclyn: I’ll do it. Should I meet you if he’s okay?
I was about to send her the address, but Rachel said, “What if Ray touches her?” Continue reading The Executioner: Part 1
While Gunther talked to Gimpius, I tapped out a message to Jaclyn.
“Busy?”
If she were in the middle of a fight, a text would be easier to ignore than a call. Probably.
Her message came back seconds later. Continue reading Targets: Part 25
Haley parked the car by the side of the road. As we got out, I couldn’t help but notice who wasn’t there–Jaclyn, Cassie and Julie. And that sucked because Cassie could have chopped them to pieces, Julie could have told them to stop, and had a pretty good chance that they’d listen, and Jaclyn…
Jaclyn could have done something. Physically, she was the only one of us who was in Prime’s army’s league. Plus she was a whole lot faster than any of them.
I couldn’t say that we were doomed, but part of me would have felt better knowing they were with us.
Continue reading Targets: Part 22
Off to our left, bright red beams lanced the ground, and then raked across the building I’d been in. It didn’t look like much–a concrete block with brown, wooden siding on the edge of farmland.
When the beams hit the back of the building, it exploded. I wondered if Travis had hit a gas line or if they had had an armory back there.
Continue reading Targets: Part 21
He lay on the road. Then he pulled himself up, and limped to the side.
He sat down in the front lawn of an old white house that hadn’t been painted in at least twenty years. Most of its paint had flaked off the wood.
With luck, no one lived there. Continue reading Targets: Part 20