Ex-Heroes, Peter Clines [reading like a writer txt] 📗

Still, he knew how to fight, knew all our strengths and weaknesses, so he made a great field coordinator.

“Any problems?”

I grabbed him and kissed him hard. At least I didn’t have to tell my folks that part of my secret life. By the way, Mom and Dad, I have random, stress-relieving sex with another hero. The one called Gorgon, with the goggles. He’s twenty-nine, white, he took my virginity when I was seventeen, and we have to do it doggy-style most of the time to protect me from his eyes. I guess you could say we’re dating.

He pulled back. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. Just thinking of some of the things I could’ve told my parents when I confessed.”

He smirked. “Dragon’s cleaning around the Beverly Center again. We should head north, clean up anything we find, and meet up with him.”

I took a running jump and cleared the alley with a double flip. “Waiting on you, slowpoke,” I shouted.

Nick’d taken a hit off somebody. He was strong. Not full-strength strong, but definitely above normal human levels. What he called tier two. It took a little effort, but he leaped across to join me on the next rooftop. We headed north at a jog, watching the streets and alleys for movement.

People think alleys and streets would be the big worry running across rooftops, but really it’s just shoddy maintenance. Loose bricks. Weak beams. I slipped on a sheet of tar paper once that wasn’t even fastened down. Leaping from building to building is the easy part.

We’d gone six blocks, almost to Santa Monica Boulevard, when Nick stopped. His hearing’s better than mine, and he waved me toward the cross-alley to the east. I bounced to the edge of the roof.

There were some homeless people cornered against a sagging chain-link fence. One ex-human on the far side was trying to bite them through the links, two were staggering down the alley toward them.

“Should just take a minute,” I said.

“I’ll take the one. Focus on saving those people.”

“I can handle them—”

He was already sliding down an old metal drainpipe. I launched myself across the alley, did a Jackie Chan bounce from the brick wall to the fire escape, back, and into a zombie’s head. The ex tumbled and I rode him to the pavement, letting my weight and momentum crush his skull. The force rolled me into a crouch that put me in a perfect place to sweep the other one. He hit the ground with a nice crack.

“Get out of here!” I waved the people away. “You’re supposed to be in a shelter, so get going!”

They moved. One of them hugged his hand to his chest.

I grabbed his arm. “Let me see.”

He shook his head, but held it out anyway. I could see the teeth marks, dark around flesh that was already turning pale. He was crying into his thick whiskers.

“Tie your arm off tight,” I said. “Use your belt, a scarf, something. Make it hurt. Tell them you’ve been bitten as soon as you get to the shelter.” I turned to his friends. “He’s infected. Make sure the medics know.”

“Big B!” shouted Nick. “A little help.”

On the other side of the fence, Nick had dealt with his one zombie. We hadn’t seen all the others in the shadows. Almost a dozen. And more flowing in from the far end of the alley.

A running start sent me over the fence. I hammer-kicked the closest one, dragged him to the ground, and felt his neck break under my heel. “Over the fence or up the pipe,” I said. “Your choice.”

“You can’t fight this many.”

“Not going to. I’m covering you. Move that sexy ass.”

No time to think, just to move. Leap. Flip. Bounce. Snap. Back flip. Roll. Sweep. Spin kick.

A scream made me turn. I hadn’t killed the last ex on the other side of the fence. It had grabbed the last of the homeless, a black woman, and sunk its teeth into her leg. She was shrieking and trying to kick it off.

Nick had just made it up the pipe and out of reach. He was moving so slow. His strength was gone, used up. Damn it. He saw the woman and swung himself over the fence. Even without any power, I knew he could deal with one.

Something brushed my shoulder.

Vault. Back thrust kick. Roll. Too many of them to get distracted. A few steps gave me the momentum to bounce off the alley wall, up to head height. Kick. Flip. Split kick. Snap-snap. Crouch. Sweep. Leap. Spin kick. Snap.

Nick was safe with his ex. Time to get away from all of mine. I just needed an opening. The fire escape was in front of me. Launch. Bounce. Flip kick. Snap. Bounce. Snap. Bottom rung of the ladder. Swing.

Slip.

The rung was coated with years of grime and oil and rust mixed into something that felt like slimy mud. It slipped out of my hand. I fell.

It wasn’t the first time I’d fallen. Not even the first time with enemies around. Heck, I even managed to scissor my legs as I dropped, knocking two of them down and getting my feet under me. But they were too close. I needed room to move.

I panicked. Just two seconds of panic. Three, tops.

Arms wrapped around me from behind and grabbed my almost nonexistent boobs. It was the way guys copped a feel in school—a back-hug gone wrong. On top of falling on my ass in front of my sort-of boyfriend, I was getting felt up by a zombie.

And then it bit my shoulder. The teeth ground down through the heavy cotton of my costume, breaking the skin, tearing at the muscle. Blood gushed down my arm. My blood was very hot.

I twisted free. Like Nick and the Dragon and my self-defense teacher all said, I spun and used my momentum to drive the heel of my hand at the ex. It was an Indian woman. She was beautiful. I shattered her nose and drove the bone into her