Dark Hunter (3 page)

He continued his journey, stopping several times during the flight, each time wishing his benefactor had given him teleportation powers. It made traveling much more comfortable but was one of those quirky powers he just couldn't seem to absorb into his system to use on a more permanent basis.

During one stop he was shivering violently, despite the padded jacket. He used his radioactive power to
superheat rocks to get warm, and another time he stopped to randomly top off his powers from the cell phone, which added a rush to his system like drinking too much coffee. He knew from past experience that powers from the cell phone should be much weaker than those pulled directly from the Internet. But now he found them just as potent and chalked it up to the fact that he was now entangled with Villain.net—and that made him all the more powerful.

It was on this last rest that Jake received another text message from his benefactor, warning him not to go home. It suggested that he meet his guardian face-to-face. Jake ignored it; he'd had enough of being told what to do. From now on
he
was in control of his life.

He flew on, his thoughts turbulent. How could he get his family's memories back? Chameleon had mentioned it was a rare power that had been used to take them away. Memory loss could be achieved through a simple hypnotic power, but his parents had had their entire brains rewired. The ability to do it was a rare power, which meant that it was not available online. Could he use the hyperenergy chemical factory his body had become to create it? But where would he start? Chameleon had told him that he could
create
powers, but he had neglected to explain the rather more important
how
. As usual, thinking about the hero derailed his thoughts to those of hatred: how could he
exact revenge on Chameleon and Basilisk for ruining his life? And how could he use these superpowers to get what
he
wanted? There was no good or evil in Jake's book—there was only him.

The Hunter.

Jake liked the nickname that the hero fraternity had branded him with, and he promised himself that he'd live up to it.

He snapped back to the present and looked up as his family stepped from the music store, a bag swinging from Beth's arm. Apparently she had got her own way, as usual. Jake's smile faltered when he noticed a figure trailing discreetly behind his family: Chameleon.

Jake was on his feet in an instant. Chameleon noticed the sudden movement and stopped dead, eyes narrowing. Jake swore at himself: he should have followed the texted advice; home was the first place anybody would look for him. Jake bolted toward a set of doors that led into a mall. His family might not be able to see him, but they could still be injured in a fight.

The mall was packed and Jake easily blended with the crowd. Festive music played, and colorful decorations clung to every available surface. A quick glance behind revealed that Chameleon was following. Surely he wouldn't try to apprehend Jake in public, would he? Jake figured that superpowers were supposed to be a secret, because he certainly hadn't thought they were real until
that fateful day in the woodwork classroom. And if everybody knew about them, then the world would be a much more chaotic place as everybody scrambled to do whatever
they
wanted to. But that wasn't Jake's problem. He didn't care if the world knew. As long as he had an edge, then he could manipulate other people and be in control—that's what mattered.

Jake stopped in a central plaza that was a huge dining area, dominated by a Christmas tree. Shopping avenues branched out following the compass points. Jake took a deep breath. If this was the place he would face Chameleon, then he was ready. He was wanted by the world's governments for buying a nuclear warhead, stealing an experimental drilling probe, kidnapping, and many more infractions of the law—trashing a mall barely scraped in at the bottom of the list.

Chameleon searched the crowd, hoping Jake's spiky blond hair would give him away. He grabbed one figure roughly by the arm, but it was a girl, who yelled at him and shook him off. Chameleon absently rubbed the scar on his face, the injury Jake had inflicted still throbbed painfully. He cupped a small headset curled over his ear and spoke in a low voice.

“I've found him. The idiot came home to roost. How long before Enforcer patrols get here? Or any other backup, for that matter? I think the boy's grown stronger.”

A hesitant voice replied through the tiny earpiece.
“Ah, sir, we have a problem here. In the early hours there was an infiltration in the Foundation's servers.”

Chameleon frowned. He hated technobabble and was sure people used it to give the illusion of intelligence. “Which means
what
, exactly?”

“Somebody has hacked into Hero.com and inserted a virus. The whole system's crashed!”

Chameleon gaped like a fish. “The
entire
system?”

“Yes, sir. We're retrieving records right now to see if anyone was online at the time, and if they were, they would have had a forced data flush—”

“Speak English!”

“They would have received a power overdose.”

“Is that dangerous?”

“We're not sure. With Hero.com off-line it means there are no heroes available. Just Primes. The Foundation has already begun to move into hiding.”

Chameleon's heart sank. Primes, people born with natural superpowers, were on the decrease. And those blessed with such powers tended to err toward villainous activities in search of an easy life and quick profit. Most of the older Primes felt they were an endangered species and when threatened they would immediately go into hiding. Chameleon was one of the few Primes left who believed they should face trouble head-on.

The voice continued. “All Enforcer units have been assembled to ensure there are no further breakouts at
Diablo and have been scattered to guard the Foundation's other key sites. If the Council of Evil gets wind of this …”

He didn't need to finish his sentence, Chameleon knew well enough that the Council of Evil would maximize their campaign for world domination if they knew there were no heroes to fight back. There would be chaos on the streets, with only governments and overstretched Enforcer squadrons to try to conceal the facts. If the public ever found out that superpowers not only existed but could be given to anybody, then there would be a civil war as people demanded their right to power.

“This can't be happening,” murmured Chameleon.

“But it is,” snarled Jake, close to Chameleon's ear. The hero froze as he felt something push into the small of his back.

“Is that a gun?” Chameleon asked incredulously.

“A gun? Why would I need to use one of those? My finger is more lethal than a gun.”

“You're not going to do anything here, are you? In front of all these witnesses?”

“What have I got to lose?”

That reply sent a chill down Chameleon's spine.

“I want a straight answer from you: which so-called hero blanked my family's minds?”

Chameleon hesitated. He knew what he said now
would affect whether he lived or died at the Hunter's hands.

“A Prime called Psych.”

“Where is he?”

“I don't know.” It was a truthful enough answer, especially if Primes were going into hiding—and Chameleon knew Psych was not courageous. But the moment he said it, Chameleon knew it was the wrong answer.

“Then it looks like you've outlived your usefulness,” growled Jake.

Chameleon had only one option left. He rocketed up the side of the Christmas tree before Jake unleashed a bolt of radioactive fire. The streamers hit Chameleon in the back as he was transforming into his more agile lizard form. He was hurled sideways into the tree, smashing through ornaments as the branches around him caught fire. He was dazed, but had enough sense to cling onto the tree to give himself a moment to recover.

People around Jake watched with open mouths. At first they thought it was some kind of show put on by the mall staff—until they noticed the scaly lizard in the tree. Then panic rippled out as shoppers scrambled away in a tide of screams.

“There's an animal loose!”

Jake struck again, the green radioactive tendrils igniting more branches. Fires spread quickly as the artificial
snow ignited, sending thick plumes of black smoke to the roof and triggering smoke alarms that echoed around the complex. The waves of fleeing shoppers screamed even louder as a sprinkler system activated, creating an interior monsoon.

Jake saw that a little kid had stopped next to him, his mouth open in wonder.

“That's so cool!” squeaked the kid. “How can I do that?”

Jake snarled at the kid. “Get lost before you get hurt.”

The boy's mother suddenly ran across, her face a mask of fear. She plucked her son to safety, running for her life. Jake could just see the little boy's grinning face over his mother's shoulder.

Chameleon felt the tree wobble underneath him as overstressed securing wires snapped loose. Then the entire tree swayed like a pendulum. One of Jake's blasts just missed the tree as it swung one way—then pitched the opposite way with such force that Chameleon was flung from the branches. He collided with a life-size Santa sleigh hanging from the ceiling, and the fiberglass decoration shattered and fell into the now vacant tables below—with Chameleon gripping one piece like a life preserver.

Water from the sprinkler system stung Jake's eyes, and he had to use his sleeve to clear them. When he looked up he could see no sign of Chameleon in the wreckage
of the dining area. Jake took a step forward when movement caught his eye. He darted around and unleashed another blast—straight at a mall security guard.

In a fraction of a second Jake saw the nervous man's face. He was retirement age and had obviously been coerced into stopping the rampage. Jake managed to pull his aim aside—splintering several stalls in the corridor—but the blast glanced off the man's chest, knocking him down.

“Get out of here!” roared Jake.

The security guard didn't hesitate. On all fours he turned to escape. Jake was distracted by the guard and didn't notice the hero's attack until a fireball struck him in the side. His energy shield absorbed most of the impact, but it was still enough to smash him through a clothing store window. Again, the shield protected him from being minced by jagged shards of plate glass. Jake fell into a pile of well-dressed mannequins and looked up to see a bizarre sight.

The lizard hero was walking upright, his taloned feet clicking on the floor tiles as he approached. His head bobbed with each step and he seemed oblivious to a Santa's hat that had fallen on his head. Jake saw an intense light erupt from the lizard's hands—and a second later a fireball decapitated a mannequin next to him, and set a rack of clothes on fire. When Jake looked again, Chameleon was standing over him.

“Enough games, Hunter! If we can't find out how you work when you're alive, perhaps we can discover it when you're dead!”

Jake pushed his hands in Chameleon's direction and the hero was yanked off his feet by an invisible force and soared back out of the store and through an optician's window.

Jake clambered to his feet and back into the dining area. The floor was slick with water, but the sprinkler system had done very little to smother the blaze that had spread now through several stores.

He saw Chameleon groaning under a pile of broken designer sunglasses. A sudden feeling of doubt crossed Jake's mind. He hated Chameleon with every fiber in his body, but he still could not bring himself to kill the hero—Jake had committed almost every crime he could think of, but not cold-blooded murder … not
yet
. Jake had extracted the information he needed to start finding a cure for his family. Chameleon didn't know where Psych was, so what would killing him solve?

If you don't, he'll hunt you down relentlessly,
muttered a dark thought at the back of his mind. And he knew it was true. Chameleon and the Hero Foundation wanted Jake, wanted the secret of enhancing superpowers that was locked in his body. And Chameleon had not even bothered to disguise the fact that he was willing to kill him.

Chameleon pushed a display stand off his bleeding leg and looked up to see Jake slowly advancing. He morphed back into his human form, fear crossing his face for the first time. And fear was something that Jake's old bullying detector locked on to. In the playground an expression of fear on his victims was a victory signal. People were always easier to manipulate when they were scared.

“What's the matter, lizard breath? Finally met your match?”

“Hunter, think about what you are doing! You have untold power we could use to help mankind—”

“And why would I want to do that?”

Chameleon blinked in surprise. “Because … you're part of it!”

“All my life people have told me what to do. Every time I rebelled against them I got into trouble. But now,
I am the trouble
. Who can stop me? Heroes, villains, doesn't matter. I'll bring you all down!”

“Indiscriminately killing heroes and villains just makes you another power-hungry thug.”

“Then I guess that's all I am.”

The sound of distant sirens piercing the crackle of flames caught their attention. Then it was drowned out by a loud explosion as yet another shop unit caught fire. The mall was an inferno.

Jake was opening his mouth to respond to
Chameleon—but was surprised to find he couldn't move. A fine crystal coating encased his body as it spun from Chameleon's fingers. The hero climbed to his feet, nursing bleeding cuts on his leg.

“You may be powerful, Hunter. But you're inexperienced.”

Jake tried to move, but found he couldn't. He remembered Chameleon using this power on Basilisk's henchmen in a previous battle.

“Before the authorities arrive, you'll be teleported back to where you belong. Diablo Island,
maximum
security. You will
never
see daylight again!”