Firefight (24 page)

I continued forward, stepping over the debris and doing my best to stay low, approaching the large windows. This building
was
secluded, off by itself in the middle of the ocean. Waves broke against the base, water churning below. Distantly across some kind of bay, other buildings broke the surface of the ocean. Babilar proper.

I knelt down, set aside my backpack, and poked the front of my gun out a broken section of window. Eye to the scope, I dialed up to ten times magnification. It worked beautifully. I could see five hundred yards easily; in fact, dialing up the zoom, I bet I could get to two thousand yards with reasonable detail.

Sparks. I’d never made shots like
that
before. I was good with a rifle, but I wasn’t a trained sniper. I doubted the Gottschalk had the range for that shot anyway, though the scope was excellent for peeking about.

“I’m in position,” I said. “Which building is it?”

“You see a peaked one?” Exel said over the line. “Next to the two flatter rooftops?”

“Yup,” I said, zooming in. It was quite a distance, but no problem for the gun’s excellent magnification.

And there he was.

29

OBLITERATION
looked much as he had the other two times I’d seen him, except he’d removed his shirt, black trench coat, and glasses, which were now strewn on the rooftop beside his sword. His bandaged chest was exposed, and he sat cross-legged, goateed face stretched toward the sky, eyes closed. His posture was serene, like a man doing morning yoga.

The major difference between now and when I’d seen him before, however, was that he glowed with a deep inner light, like something was burning just beneath his skin.

I felt a surprising surge of anger. I remembered thrashing in the water, the shackle around my leg pulling me toward the depths. Never again.

I focused on Obliteration, holosights putting a dot right on his head. Then I tapped the side of my gun, flipping a switch
and sending a feed from the scope to my mobile. That sent the image to Tia.

“Thanks,” Tia said, watching the feed. “Hmm … Doesn’t look good. You thinking what I am?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Can you dig out my photos of Houston?”

“I’ve got better ones,” Tia said. “Asked around once I knew he was here. Sending.”

I looked away from the scope and took the mobile off my arm. Tia’s message arrived soon after, including a set of photos taken in Houston. This was from the height of Obliteration’s reign in the city. It had been a terrible place to live, but—like Newcago—there’d been a certain level of stability. As I’d had proven to me in both Newcago and Babilar, people would rather live with the Epics—and their tyranny—than waste away in the chaos between cities.

This meant there had been a lot of witnesses when Obliteration had settled down right before his palace, an old government building he’d repurposed, and started glowing. Most of those witnesses had died soon after. Some had gotten out, though, and more had sent photos from their mobiles to friends outside the city.

Tia’s images—which were indeed better than the ones in my files—showed Obliteration sitting as he did now. Different pants, no bandage on his chest, and less scruff on his face, but same posture and glow.

“Those look like the pictures from the first day of him storing power in the other cities, wouldn’t you say?” Tia said over the line.

“Yeah,” I replied, moving through the images to look at another sequence of shots. Obliteration in San Diego. Same posture. I compared how much he glowed on the first day in both Houston and San Diego, then compared it to how he looked now. “I agree. He’s only just begun the process.”

“Would one of you two mind explaining to the old man what we’re talking about?” Prof asked over the line.

“His primary ability—his heat manipulation—is exodynamic,” I said.

“Great,” Prof said. “Very helpful.”

“I thought you were a genius,” I said.

“I taught fifth-grade science,” Prof reminded me. “And it’s not like we taught Epic power theory back then.”

“Obliteration,” Tia said in a calm voice, “needs to draw heat out of objects to use for destroying things. Sunlight touching his skin works too—not as efficiently, but since it’s persistent, it’s an easy source for him.”

“Before he destroyed Houston and each of the other cities he’s annihilated, he sat in the sunlight for seven days drawing energy,” I said. “He then released it in one burst. Comparing how much he’s glowing now to the pictures from Houston, we can guess how long he’s been doing this.”

“And theoretically,” Tia added, “we can guess how long we have until something very, very bad happens.”

“We’re going to have to move up our timetable,” Prof said softly. “How soon can we prepare the hit on Newton?”

That was still the plan: attack Newton, draw Regalia out, and use this information to pinpoint Regalia’s base. The firm way Prof spoke over the line seemed like he was talking directly to me. The Reckoners were going to kill Newton, not kidnap her—and my plan to do otherwise was foolish.

I didn’t reply. It probably
was
foolish to try to kidnap her. For now, I’d go along with the plan as it stood.

“A hit on Newton will be tough,” Tia said, “considering that we don’t know her weakness.”

“She repels attacks on her,” Prof said. “So what if we just drown her? Force redirection won’t save her if she’s sinking into the ocean.”

I shivered in horror at the thought.

“That could do it,” Tia said. “I’ll work on a plan.”

“Even if our hit on Newton doesn’t actually kill her,” Prof said, “we will probably be all right. The point of the attack will be to lure out Regalia, pinpoint her base, then take
her
out. If Newton lives on, so be it.”

“And Obliteration?” I asked, finger itching on the trigger of my rifle. I removed my hand. Not only was this a shot I couldn’t make with any amount of reliability, but Obliteration’s danger sense would engage and he’d teleport away. Better he be somewhere we could keep an eye on him. If we started annoying him without a proper plan in place, he might just set up somewhere hidden and store energy.

“Him we can’t leave running around free,” Prof agreed, speaking softly. “David’s right. We’ll need another plan for dealing with him. Soon.”

I turned the scope of my rifle to scan the area around Obliteration. It was densely populated, as evidenced by the bridges in good repair and the tents with laundry hanging outside. Most people had wisely fled at the sight of Obliteration, but I could see a few who’d stayed, hidden near the edges of buildings or peeking out of nearby windows.

Even after what this creature had done, curiosity got the better of people. Inspecting windows, I gathered that the majority of the people had fled down into the rooms below, hiding among the trees and vines.

“We’re going to need his weakness, Tia,” Prof said over the line. “We can’t rely on exploiting quirks in his powers.”

“I know,” she replied. “It’s just that ordinary research doesn’t work for Obliteration. Most Epics spend time around people and their peers. Secrets leak out. But he is so solitary; he tends to kill even other Epics who get too close to him.”

Do not sorrow for this end of days, little one
. I remembered
the words Obliteration had spoken to me. Most Epics, in their megalomania, presumed some kind of dominance over the world. That Obliteration should quote religious texts and act like some divine agent wasn’t surprising.

It didn’t make the words any less creepy though.

As I scanned the rooftops nearby, I spotted someone standing on one of them, inspecting Obliteration through binoculars. I increased my zoom one level. Didn’t I know that face? I brought up my mobile and searched through it for the pictures of Newton’s gang members. Yes, this man was one of them, a thug named Knoxx. Not an Epic.

“I see one of Newton’s gang,” I said, looking back through the scope. “Focused on him now.”

“Hmm,” Tia said. “This is a deviation from their daily rounds, but it isn’t surprising, considering what Obliteration is doing.”

I nodded, watching as the man lowered his binoculars and spoke into his mobile.

“Yes,” Prof said, “probably just …”

Suddenly the man melted.

I caught my breath, losing the rest of what Prof was saying as I watched the man shift into the shape of a small pigeon. It took to the air and flew across the rooftop faster than I could track with my scope. I searched and finally located the animal landing on a different roof nearby, where he re-formed into a man.

“He’s an Epic,” I whispered. “Shapeshifter. Val’s notes say his name is Knoxx, but she said he didn’t have any powers. Do you recognize him, Tia?”

“I’ll have to search the records and see if any of the lorists mention him,” she said. “Newton’s gang often recruits lesser Epics; maybe Val’s team simply missed noticing this guy had abilities. Is Newton herself there?”

“I don’t …,” I said, trailing off as something landed beside Knoxx. “Wait. That’s her. She just … Sparks! She
jumped
from the next building over. That has to be fifty feet easy.”

The two started conversing, and what I wouldn’t have given to be able to hear what they were saying. Finally, Newton pointed one direction, then the other. Were they setting up a perimeter? I watched as the man formed into a bird again and flew off.

Then Newton was gone. Sparks! That woman could
move
. I had to zoom back two steps to find her running across the rooftop. Her speed was impressive; by the display above my scope’s holosights, she was moving at fifty-three miles per hour. I’d read of Epics who could move faster than that, but this was only one of her secondary powers.

Newton bounded up in a short hop and came down on the edge of a roof, then engaged her energy reflection power—she reflected the force of hitting the rooftop back downward, making her move like she was on a trampoline that perfectly conserved her energy. She shot into the air in a powerful, quick-moving arc and easily cleared the gap between buildings.

“Wow,” Tia said softly.

“Not as impressive as flying,” Prof grumbled.

“No, it’s more impressive in some ways,” Tia said. “Think of the precision and mastery that requires.…”

I nodded in agreement, though they couldn’t see. I followed Newton, moving my scope, as she leaped again. She landed on the roof of a large building right next to the one where Obliteration was, then pulled out her sword and started hacking away ropes on the bridge leading to another rooftop. She repeated this with the other two bridges on the building where she stood.

“This is unusual behavior for her,” Tia said, sounding uncomfortable.

My hand tightened on the rifle barrel. She’d completely isolated a building right next to the one Obliteration was on. Now the water surrounding the building was pulling
away
, like … like people at a party leaving space around someone with bad gas. The water rushed back some ten feet on all sides, then held there, exposing the bottom half of the building. It was rusted over and encrusted with barnacles.

I glanced at Obliteration, sitting and glowing on the rooftop of the building next to the one the water had pulled away from. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even reacted.

“What in Calamity’s shadow?” Tia whispered. “That water is Regalia’s doing, but why …?”

I looked back at the isolated building where Newton strolled over to the stairwell leading down from the roof into the building proper. She took something off her belt and tossed it down the stairs, then threw two more small objects onto the rooftop nearby. Finally, she bounded away.

“Firebombs,” I whispered as they exploded in quick succession. “She’s burning the building down. With the people inside.”

30

I
threw down the gun, scrambled back from the window, and leaped for the backpack. I unzipped it and pulled out the spyril.

“David?” Tia asked urgently. “Leave the scope on the building!”

“So you can watch those people die?” I asked, unpacking the wetsuit. Sparks! I didn’t have time for that. I started affixing the spyril over my clothing, pulling off my shoes and doing the legs first.

“I need to observe Newton’s behavior,” Tia said, ever the academic. We were alike in some ways, but this was what separated us—I couldn’t detach myself and just watch. “Newton hasn’t killed in years,” she continued, “save for a few quiet
executions of rivals or those who threatened Regalia’s peace. Why do something this atrocious now?”

“Regalia is making an example of those people,” Prof said softly over the line. “She’s using her power in an obvious way, to make it clear that this is her will—and to keep the people in the building from jumping into the water. This is meant to tell everyone to stay away from Obliteration. Like a corpse hung from the walls of a medieval city.”

“Makes sense,” Tia said. “He’s going to have to sit out there for several days, immobile, and Regalia won’t want him interrupted.”

“We’re witnessing her slide from benevolent but harsh dictator into all-destroying tyrant,” Prof said quietly.

“I’m not going to ‘witness’ it,” I said, pulling another strap tight. “I’m going to stop it.”

“David—” Prof said over the line.

“Yeah, yeah,” I spat. “Reckless heroism. I’m not going to just sit here.”

“But
why
,” Tia said, voice softer. “Why is Regalia doing this? She could swallow the city in water, couldn’t she? Why use Obliteration. Sparks … Why destroy the city at all? This isn’t like Abigail.”

“The Abigail we knew is dead,” Prof said. “Only Regalia remains. David, if you save those people, she will only kill others. She will make certain her point gets made.”

“
I don’t care
,” I said, trying to get the thin backplate of the spyril into place. This was a lot harder without Exel or Mizzy to help. “If we stop helping people because we’re afraid, or ambivalent or whatever, then we lose. Let them do evil. I’ll stop them.”

“You’re not omnipotent, David,” Prof said. “You’re just human.”