Hi-Five

Tag: hi-five

Season 1:13 ‘Dinosaur Jr’

Ingot dodges out of the way of the rampaging beast and it crashes into the building next door. I think it was a specialty ice cream shop. Talk about rocky road.

Steam rises from the Rex’s nostrils.  It’s more like a neon vapor than steam.  The plates along its head and body glisten under the dim street lights.  None of us have moved from the front entrance.  It takes a few steps forward, lurches its head back, and then thrusts at us with a booming roar.

I think we can handle the Tyrannosaurus-Mechs better than we did Cougar.  This thing is just meant to intimidate us.  If we work as a team, we can take it down faster than you can say “meteor”.

“So I’m going to guess this is a robot and not the real deal,” Mach shouts over the harsh noise.

LED lights piped along the outline of the beast flicker on, giving an orange glow to its silhouette.  Gnashing metal teeth force us to spring into action.  Ingot breaks off a few plates from the tail and fires one back as a distraction.  It gives the rest of us time to come up with a plan.  A few people from the club have gathered in the entranceway to watch the fight.

“Brains, keep those people inside.  The last thing we need is to have them end up as a snack,” Ingot says.

“What about us?” Mach shouts after dodging an attempt by the robot to eat him.  Well, it wouldn’t be eating so much as it would be shredding him with metal teeth.

“It’s big, but we can take it.”

I turn and focus my attention on the crowd.  The music in the club has been switched off and the lights are back on.

Stay inside.

They definitely heard me, but they’re choosing to ignore me.  A mechanical dinosaur is far more compelling than a polite psychic request.  I have to think bigger.  I clench my fists and close my eyes.  A few deep breaths, and the deafness in my ear, clears the battle unfolding around me out of my thoughts.  I focus on the bystanders.  Then I give them one command.

SLEEP.

All of them drop to the floor; some hit the pavement a little hard.

“Nice going,” Ingot says.  I nod.

So far, Dragonette and Ingot have had the most success against the robot.  It’s slow and easy to dodge, but we still maintain our distance.  There’s a cluster of scratches near its right eye where Ingot has been hurling shards of the tail.  Mach keeps it busy circling around the club.  The one thing we really want to avoid is having it rampage through Stockholm.

“Jason, once I disable one of the eyes, you need to jump onto its back and take out the brain,” Ingot says.

“Yee haw,” Chase adds.

“How do I do that?” Jason asks.

“Punch through its fucking head,” Ingot says.  She pierces the eyes with a shard.

The robot roars and charges towards Ingot.  Sparks spray from the fractured eye which oozes some sort of lubricant.  Jason takes the opportunity to jump onto its back.  He grabs a hold on two larger plates near the base of the neck.  Ingot dodges out of the way of the rampaging beast and it crashes into the building next door.  I think it was a specialty ice cream shop.  Talk about rocky road.

It whips around to face us; its tail smashing the glass storefront.  Jason tears off a panel from the back of the head and tosses it onto the ground.  He punches through the exposed wiring and rips out what looks like the brain.  He hops down from the dinosaur as it comes crashing to the pavement.   The impact creates an imprint in the asphalt.  We’re the only ones standing on the lot.

“Nice work team,” Ingot says.

Jason walks over to rejoin us.  His knuckles are bloodied, but otherwise he’s fine.  The glow around the dinosaur sputters to darkness.

“I’d say this means our guy is definitely in the basement of this place,” I say.

“Let’s get him then,” Dragonette says.

“Guys can we hold up a second, I just punched the brain out of a fucking dinosaur,” Jason says.

“Dude, you’re standing.  You’re fine.”

We step over the sleeping revelers and enter the club.  The layout is very similar to the last one we had been in.  I’m kind of expecting another wave of robots to attack us before we can make our way down into the basement.  The DJ is slumped over his turntables, snoring.

Ingot descends the stairs first behind the booth.  There’s a dark corridor, presumably leading to a secret room.  She tosses an empty bottle down the hallway before proceeding.  No motion activated machine guns or lasers I guess.

At the end of the hall is a tall metal door.  Above it in red letters is the name “Einstein”.

Advertisements

Season 1:8 ‘Get Dangerous’

Scream your fucking lungs out for Hi-Five.

The nightclub is packed. Bodies sway and crash into each other. My boots stick to the tile floor with every step. A cluster of strobe lights flash from the DJ booth on the other side of the establishment.

Guys, we have to use telepathy or we won’t hear anything. I open up our only possible line of communication.

Well fine. Ingot doesn’t seem too happy with the idea.

Chase, we’ll lose you if you start running.

I don’t think I can run in here as it is; oof. He bumps into a pair of dancing girls.

I look around for a door or some passage which would lead into a basement. There’s no way he made the video in this room. Everyone starts jumping as a high energy track blares out of the massive speakers. It’s a wonder these people aren’t deaf. The sheer volume clouds my thoughts, making it difficult to maintain the link.

Jason and Dragonette take to the left side of the room while the rest of us head right. The only bar in the club is jammed with thirsty customers. Some guy in a tight shirt and even tighter jeans rubs up against me. Dissuading him with my thoughts would sever my connection with Jason and Dragonette. I try and put a few other people between us. He seems to lose interest and wanders off into the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight, we have a few unexpected special guests in our midsts,” the DJ announces, “scream your fucking lungs out for Hi-Five.”

Everyone goes wild. Spotlights cast down onto the three of us, and two more shine down across the room.

How did he know we’re here?

Well maybe the bouncer told him, I didn’t exactly make him think we were someone else.

In any case, our cover is blown.

“And what would an introduction be without meeting our B.A.S.S. Heads?”

This is bad.

Isn’t a bass head just someone who likes loud music?

No, the way he said it, he means the experimental audio-tech weapons. Blasting Audio Sonics Systems. Ingot has her experience with them at the forefront of her thoughts, so I share it with the group.

These robots look like humans, but their heads are powerful devices meant to concentrate audio. She once watched one explode a watermelon.
Shit.

Two slim figures rise from the tops of the speakers. They’re coated with a slick seafoam colored gloss and have convex spheres in place of heads. Each one moves with a sort of confident seduction in their steps. Not saying robots are hot.

A lot of people make their way towards the exits. This must be a semi-regular occurrence for so many people to know what’s about to happen. Either way, it confirms our suspicions of Progenitor Labs being a front for illegal tech.

You guys ready?

I’m going to cut the link. Though I won’t be much use against robots. You guys fight, I’ll look for our mystery man.

To top it all off, the DJ starts playing “Everybody Get Dangerous”. Both bots hop down from the speakers and start blasting at us. Tiles shatter and fly up into the air. I dash for the far wall and watch the rest of the team spring into action.

Mach speeds out of the way of a shockwave. The pulses of sound distort the air as they throb forward to their targets. Each one is preceded by a reverberating noise. Then something in the room bursts. I can feel the vibrations in my feet and chest as I make my way across the room. Ingot hurls a few of the support structures surrounding the DJ booth at the robots. These ones must be plastic too.

Dragonette unleashes a jet of flames, coating the robot further from me. The unit walks out of the fire without so much as tarnished paint, and positions itself to launch another blast. Our mystery man was thinking far ahead when he orchestrated all of this. There’s no sign of a door on this wall. The only place we haven’t checked yet is behind the DJ booth; a logical place for a secret exit.

Getting behind the booth will be impossible until the robots are taken out. Two of us are useless in fighting them. Ingot clamps one in place by constricting its feet with metal from a door frame. Jason charges in from the side and decapitates the robot.

“You have to crush the head to destroy the audio unit,” Ingot shouts.

It’s too late. One last shockwave escapes before he smashes the head between his hands. The blast churns through the air and misses me by a hair before shattering half the bottles in the bar. Looking through it was like staring up from the bottom of a pool. My left ear stings with a harsh ringing.

I can see Jason’s lips moving, but his speech is garbled. He rushes over to me while Mach and Ingot finish off the other robot. Jason’s words come into focus as he gets closer.

“Desmond,” he says, “you alright?”

I’m not sure.

“I think it got my ear,” I say. My voice sounds louder than normal inside my head. Like I’m shouting even though it’s a normal speaking volume.

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s go find our DJ,” Dragonette says.

The club is empty save for two scrapped robots. As we had expected, there’s a door behind the booth leading to a narrow set of stairs. I can see their lips moving, but I don’t know what everyone else is saying. Jason will serve as a better set of ears.

“Do we just go in?” Ingot asks.

“Ladies first,” Chase says.

Dragonette descends the stairwell and pushes open the door at the bottom. The rest of us follow when it looks safe. The room is about the size of a subway car. It must be under the rear fourth of the club.
“Where’d the DJ go?”

I shrug.

“Well, those two pods, I think, are used to charge the robots we crushed outside,” Ingot says. Jason grins at the comment. “And maybe this computer can tell us something.” She walks to the large computer on the back wall. It’s flanked by two grey pods.

Ingot clicks around on the console for what feels like an hour. Chase taps his foot and looks around the room. Every other wall is blank. All the code and windows flying across the screen make no sense to me. My ear still hurts.

“I didn’t find much, but it looks like the headquarters for Progenitor Labs is in Sweden.”

“So we’re done here?” Chase asks.

“Guess we just head home,” Dragonette says.

I can sense the enthusiasm in Jason’s thoughts. “Dudes, we’re in Miami and we just crushed two pieces of illegal tech. We should be out partying.”

“I’m kind of tired,” Ingot says.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” I say.

Next Chapter.

Season 1:5 ‘Hotel California’

It’s easier to cooperate with friends than it is with strangers.

Mach handled all of the officers’ questions.  They taped off the warehouse and started investigating straight away.  Apparently we had happened upon the stolen technology after intercepting one of the homing beacons by accident.  It sounded plausible enough I suppose.  The police bought it.

“Well I’m ready to sleep for the rest of the week,” says Jason.  Mach agrees.

I hadn’t participated in the fight outside of watching it from Jason’s perspective.  An hour of meditation should help to calm my mind.  Otherwise, we’re all in good spirits.  Nothing blew up, no one died, and the public will sleep in ignorant bliss.  Today was a win for us.

“I was planning on studying the robot parts tomorrow.  Maybe a little downtime would be good,” Ingot says.

We rent two hotel rooms near the airport for the night.  As nice as it would be to get back home, there’s no real hurry.  Guys are in one room, girls in the other.  The carpet is splotched with a geometric pattern in complementary colors.  None of the furniture matches, but the bathroom and sheets are clean.  We had to change out by the car before entering the main lobby.  It’s not unusual to see metas, especially in populated areas, but they never check-in to hotels.

“That was some first day on the job,” Mach says before diving onto the closer bed.  “I’ve never had to fight a robot before.”

“You seemed pretty good at taking them apart,” I say.

“I’ve assembled my fair share of Ikea furniture.”

Jason goes into the bathroom and locks the door.  After a few moments he turns the water on for the shower.  I laugh at Mach’s remark to keep him from suspecting how distracted I am from the conversation.

You feeling alright?

I’m fine.  Just taking a shower.

You’re checking yourself out in the mirror.

Dude, quit watching me.  I’m just tired.

Well if you want to talk about anything just let me know.

“So is he your brother or do y’all just look alike?”

“We’re twins.  I don’t know how much we’re supposed to talk about ‘normal’ life,” I say.  It was never made clear how much we should know about each other.  I don’t think mom and dad knew much about the rest of their teammates.

“Heck, you already know what I did for a living before this.  I don’t see why we should keep secrets from each other.  My real name’s Chase Tucker.  Call me CT if you want,” he says and sits up to offer a handshake.

I try to read his thoughts before replying.  Again, everything is moving very fast, but I don’t come across anything malicious.  If we’re going to be a team then we need to know more about each other.  It’s easier to cooperate with friends than it is with strangers.

“Desmond Healy,” I say and shake his hand.  “Jason’s my brother.”

Now I feel like I’m working with a real person, someone with a life, instead of just another metahuman. Granted we’re a rare breed, but seeing them all the time on the news makes everything so one dimensional. I start noticing all the little ticks about Chase. His right leg is almost never still and there’s a bit more scruff on his face than when we met a few days ago.

CT and I talk for a while longer, waiting for Jay to finish in the bathroom.  He’s only a few years older than us and just as inexperienced.  We’ll need a miracle to help us if we ever end up fighting a villain.  For someone with such a fast thought process, Chase is very collected when he speaks.  It’s as if each word is considered and chosen with care.  He’s not as terse as Jason when it comes to making conversation.

All of us decide not to pursue another mission before Ingot finishes analyzing the robotic head.  Back at The Hive we use the time for training.  Jason and Mach leave to work on their respective physical talents outside.

“So how does a psychic train his power?” Dragonette asks.

“I’ve never thought of myself as a psychic.  More like a mental dominator,” I say.  She gives me a questioning look.  “Anyway, I can meditate and read my own thoughts.  Or break down the mental barriers of others.  Either way works.”

“Can you practice on me?”

“I guess I could.  That is, if you don’t mind me in your thoughts.”  She shakes her head.  We take a seat on the couch and I ask her to relax. My heart beats faster, from either fear or excitement. It’s unclear.

All of her surface thoughts come across as grey images flowing into each other.  She’s thinking about the carpet from the hotel and walking into the desert yesterday with the shipping crate.  The way I’ve always broken through surface thoughts is by taking something which has the potential for more connections and approaching it from a new angle.  I concentrate on her memory of Jason lifting the container and find a connection to the time we first met.

Her next level of thoughts feel hotter.  It’s the kind of dry heat which makes my eyes sting.  This memory has a few aspects of color, but nothing stands out aside from Jason and our parents.

“You’ve got nice eyes,” Jason says to her.  The phrase triggers a powerful leap to another memory.  I manage to maintain a hold over the connection by refocusing my thoughts and increasing the clarity of the memory.

Most memories are foggy, and the old ones are no more than a few snatches of words and a smell.  By heightening each individual aspect, and making a few guesses, the full experience can be recovered.

This thought is searing hot and blazing with color.  She must be fifteen, maybe sixteen, and feels distraught.  A school bell rings.

“I’m sorry Sam, but it’s not going to work.  I kind of just thought we were friends, y’know?”

She looks up at the guy talking to her and says, “How can you say that, after everything we’d done?  We kissed and –”

“Sam, don’t, we should go.  I’ll be late for class again,” he walks away.

I start leaving her mind.  This is all too personal for me to be getting into.  But before I go I can hear a memory of him echo, “You’ve got nice eyes.”

Next Chapter.

Season 1:4 ‘The Mess You Left Behind’

And how do we explain the lack of bodies, or the pile of bullets?”

“Now what?” Mach shouts from across the warehouse.

I walk over with Dragonette and Ingot to meet up with the other two.  We never set a goal for the mission outside of recovering the stolen materials.  None of us had suspected the guards would be robots.  Ingot looks down at the scrap heap and then shrugs.

“I guess we could take a few parts back with us,” she says.  “Otherwise we might just want to call the cops about the stolen stuff.”

“We might not want to let on about the whole robot aspect of this,” Dragonette says.

She had a point.  The cops are expecting to recover these stolen parts from a low level organized crime operation.  Dad always stressed the importance of keeping public suspicion to a minimum.  Any scenario can be blown out of proportion at the fingertips of a seasoned journalist.  This would be our first lesson in damage control.

“Alright.  Let’s get these scraps and any other unrelated tech into a shipping container,” I say.

“Sure, and then how do we get it home?” Jason asks.

He had a point.  We could just strap it to his back and have him walk halfway across the country.  After his little performance I think he deserved it.

“Maybe we could hide most of it for now.  Out in the desert somewhere and take a few samples back with us.”

“If you carry it, I could try alleviating some of the weight,” Ingot says to Jason.

We load up one of the smaller containers with all of the robot parts and the two computers they brought with them.  Ingot changes the frame of the container so it props itself up enough for Jason to get underneath.  He hoists it across his shoulders and lifts.  It rises from the ground and the frame reverts to normal.  Jason’s muscles bulge under the weight.

Ingot opens a hole in the wall of the warehouse for Jason to pass through.  We trudge out into the desert until the warehouse is out of sight.  With a heave, the container is set onto the ground.  A cloud of dust kicks up from the impact.

I’ve never really seen the moon before, not like out here. The last streetlight we saw was maybe six miles behind us. A nest of stars crowd around the moon and cast a pale light down into the desert. Sand particles dance and flow through the air like sprites in the moonlight. The red container rests on the sand. It feigns blending in with the surroundings.

“Someone’s going to notice a red shipping container,” Dragonette says.

“I’ve got an idea.  Get the parts out of there for a few minutes,” Ingot says.  Jason is still catching his breath.

“I didn’t know I signed up to be the team’s pack mule,” he says.

Come on, just help us.

Can’t you lift it with your mind or something?

I shake my head.  My telepathy only lets me manipulate the thoughts of others.  There are two or three metas which are telekinetic, but I think they operate out of Asia and Europe.  We’re not the best team for crowd-control scenarios.

Ingot focuses on the container once it’s emptied out.  The metal screeches and bends as it forms into a new shape.  After fifteen seconds, we’re staring at the beat up chassis of a red van.  There’s definitely enough space for all of the parts.

“Grab one of the robot heads and a computer,” Ingot says.

“And then lets get out of here,” Mach adds.

I stay back and watch Mach and Jason load the parts into the rusted out van.  At this point I’m exhausted from the highs and lows of the fight.  None of the others seem to be worn out.  Despite his complaints, Jason has never been fatigued in his life.  Now’s as good a time as any to call the police and apprise them of the situation.  I take out my cellphone, but there’s no service.

Back at the warehouse I find a landline to dial out on.  The others stow the parts in the trunk of our rental car.  Mach and Jason joke about fighting the robots while Dragonette and Ingot watch.

“Police will be here in fifteen,” I say after grouping up with the rest of them.

“Do we wait here?” Ingot asks.

“Well, they’ll probably want a statement or something,” I say.

“And how do we explain the lack of bodies, or the pile of bullets?” Jason asks.

“I think you absorbed most of them,” Dragonette says.

“Just leave the talking to me, you guys go clean out the warehouse.  Melt the bullets into a stapler or something,” Mach says.

It turns out he’s a management consultant in normal life.  Or he used to be one for a year before this.  I trust he’ll be able to handle the cops, and it means I won’t have to answer any questions.  Mach waves to us before we trudge back into the warehouse.

Cleaning up is easy.  The bullets are melted down into two staplers and set in the side office.  Dragonette breathes fire up at the ceiling so Ingot can warp the structure back into shape with ease.  Jason and I sit against a steel support pillar.  Mach bolts into the room to let us know the cops have shown up before he speeds back outside.

 

Next Chapter.

Season 1:3 ‘We Can be Heroes’

 

  In a few minutes the bullets will be shredding through both sides of the structure.  Through his vantage point I can stop the thieves and save Jason.  Hopefully.

Mom and dad left early the next morning.  Jason was asleep, but I heard the front door click shut.  Most people would think it’s heartless to leave without waking us.  But we said goodbye the night before, and our family was never big on goodbyes.  I’m kind of glad they left like they were just going on another ordinary mission; it makes their return feel feasible.

After breakfast, Jason and I head to The Hive.  We take the subway. It’s less crowded than I thought it would be this early in the morning, though it doesn’t smell like cherry blossoms. I’m always hesitant to grab onto one of the poles but it’s more inviting than the only open seat on the train. The orange plastic is covered with a sticky film of some substance.

“It doesn’t really feel like we’re a team,” I say. The train lurches forward after the doors attempt to close three times.

“I guess it just takes time,” he replies.  I shrug.

It’d be better not to talk about it when others can hear.

Are you nervous?

No.  I doubt anything will even happen.

Something will have to happen eventually.

Dragonette and Ingot are already inside. “Typical, the boys are late,” Ingot says.  She’s sitting on the couch; her voice echoes through the room. It’s unclear if Dragonette is staring at me or Jason.

“You’re just early,” Jason says.  He takes a seat near her.

I walk over to the window and peer outside.  From this height I might be able to see Mach approaching, but I doubt he’d run here.  Pine Ridge is a big city, second only to New York.  Watching everyone bustle down below gives perspective on just how many people we have to protect.

“So, what do we do, how does this all work?” Dragonette asks.

“Well we’re not short of money, that’s for sure,” Ingot says.

Before they left, The Guardians Society revealed their main source of funding.  They all set aside money in an investment account one of them managed before the crime fighting began.  No one was ever able to guess who the finance wizard was on the team.  It’s strange to imagine a vigilante stockbroker.  They gave us two hundred million dollars to work with.

“Can’t we just get the computer to tell us where there’s crime?” Jason says.

“I think The Guardians Society made their own missions.  There were only a handful of them, so they had to pick out what they thought was the most important,” I say.

Dragonette clicks around on the main console.  A few of the window panes shimmer and transition to computer monitors.  Three different mission scenarios play out on different hexagons.

“So it looks like there’s been a series of robberies in Europe, some suspicious technology smuggling on the west coast here, and sabotaged oil fields in Nigeria.  No real villain activity,” Dragonette says.  Jason and Ingot rise from the couch to inspect the footage.

I walk away from the window and Mach whizzes through the door over to the monitors, nearly knocking me over.  I clench my fists and contemplate giving him a wicked headache.  It wouldn’t help if one of our teammates was incapacitated before the mission started.

“Can you get more on the second scenario?” Ingot asks.  Dragonette pulls up the full brief on the technology heists and movements.  “Weird, they’re moving around crates of next-next-generation processors, and some huge power cells.”

“I think INTERPOL should handle the first one,” says Mach.

“I say we take number two,” Jason says.

We catch the next flight to northern California.  I’m not sure if The Guardians Society had an official means of transportation.  It could be worth the investment.  With the time difference, we land at eight that night.  Our rental car is waiting in the lot.

California is a new destination for us. I’d always envisioned a place full of sunshine and salty air. This is a little different. It’s much greener and the air hangs heavy with a dampness. We’re going to work up a sweat in no time out here. I’m already feeling hot after crossing the parking lot to get our car: a blue sedan.

Ingot boots up her laptop and goes over the mission files again.  If me or Jason drove it would raise the price of rental insurance, so Mach drives.  We should have opted for something with a little more room; I’m crammed between Jason and Dragonette.

“Who exactly are we dealing with?” Jason asks.

“Looks like small time thugs, nobodies really.  The only reason anything came up was a few firms in Silicon Valley reported thefts,” Ingot replies.

“Punch buggy,” Mach exclaims before reaching over to hit Ingot on the shoulder.

“I can crush you where you sit,” she says.

“What exactly are your powers?” Mach asks.

“Ferrokinesis.”

“Must’ve been useful in art class.”

Ingot raises a hand and the roof starts to warp.

You’ll kill us.

“Ow, I was only trying to prove a point.  Who says you can jump into my head?”

“Seemed like more than proving a point to me,” I say.

“Can you guys shut up until we get there?” Jason says.  The rest of the ride is quiet.

We roll up to a warehouse under the cover of darkness.  Warehouse is an overstatement. This place could pass for a house with a tin roof. The forested area we hand departed from has given way to an expanse of sand and low shrubs. Each of us gets out and changes into costume.  It would have been awkward to see a sedan full of metakids.

Is it alright if we communicate over telepathy?

Ingot glares at me, Count me out.

Mach’s thoughts, and body, move too fast for me to transmit them.  So it’s just me, Jason, and Dragonette.

This is the last location some of the stolen technology was tracked.  One of the firms was smart enough to install a beacon in a few of their chipsets.  Ingot managed to find it on the command console back at the base.

Why don’t we charge in there, take them out, and recover the parts?

Jay, I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.

None of them are metas.  Dragonette’s thoughts flow like the lava I’ve seen in nature videos.

Exactly, let’s just go.

It was too late to stop Jason.  His super strength allows him to cover a lot of ground by jumping.  Mom wasn’t happy the first time he left a crater in our yard.  He jumps ahead and lands on the roof of the warehouse causing the metal to buckle.  Ingot manages to warp the structure and keep it from collapsing.  Jason rips a hole in the roof and drops inside.

“We’ll have to practice a few teamwork exercises,” Mach says before racing inside.

You guys coming?

I can’t believe you just did that.  We had the element of surprise on our side.

How many are inside?

I don’t know, like twenty or something.  They’ve got some big guns.

Dragonette, Ingot, and I enter to the sound of gunfire.  Jason is pinned down behind a few shipping containers, and Mach is nowhere to be seen.  The concrete floor is cold even through my boots.  We duck into a small office just off the side entrance.

“Got any ideas?” Dragonette asks.

“Why don’t you just mind wipe them or have them shoot each other?” Ingot asks me.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, but maybe I can try putting them to sleep,” I say.

I focus my thoughts and reconnect with Jay.  The guards are still firing at the shipping container.  In a few minutes the bullets will be shredding through both sides of the structure.  Through his vantage point I can stop the thieves and save Jason.  Hopefully.

You guys distract them and I’ll finish them off.

Jason, no, just wait a few seconds and I’ll take them out.

Building a bridge into their minds is impossible.  I know it’s harder to jump from one person to another, I could never connect to Kevin Bacon, but there’s just no chance here.  Jumping across is like changing the channel on a TV, and in this case I keep getting static.

Stay put, we’re coming over to help.

“Guys, I can’t control the guards.  We need to get out there and help,” I say.

It’s too late.  Jason launches himself over the container into the shower of bullets.  I scream out his name while Ingot and Dragonette watch in confusion.  The guns turn and open fire at him after he lands.  I burst through the door and shout his name again, and try in vain to stop the guards.  Bullets smash into his chest and torso.  None of them penetrate his skin.

I’m bulletproof?

The shock freezes my thoughts.  Jason grabs one of the guards by his neck and hoists him into the air.

You can’t get into their heads?  I’ll do you one better.

He plants his other hand on the guy’s head.  I’m left to watch, powerless, as Jay rips the head clean off his shoulders.  Where I expect to see blood, there’s none.  He lets the body drop to the floor and it starts sparking.

“Robots,” Ingot says.

“Can’t you warp their metal?” Dragonette says.  Ingot nods.

I regain my composure now that I know Jason isn’t dead and he didn’t just murder someone.  It’s still scary to think he would be so willing to take a life.  Ingot bends her knees and focuses on the robots.  Two of them fall apart into a pile of scraps.

“Nice going,” Dragonette says.

“Uh, I didn’t do that,” Ingot replies.

Mach materializes next to Jason to fend off the remaining guards.  He had been moving fast enough to disassemble the other two.  Within a minute the gunfire ceases and the robots lay in a heap of destroyed parts.

 

Next Chapter.

%d bloggers like this: