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

My balance was shot. Too much pain to bounce. I swept the three nearest exes and used their bodies for extra height, throwing myself at the fire escape’s ladder again. I swung my legs up, wrapped my knees over the rungs, and pulled myself away from their clawing hands.

Nick met me halfway down the fire escape, helped me to the roof. Then he tore open the top of my costume. I didn’t want to look, but he swore and I couldn’t help it.

It was as bad as I thought. The ex had bitten through the shoulder of my sports bra. A chunk of skin—a chunk of me—the size of a half-dollar hung loose, floating on a river of blood that just kept flowing. My fingertips were sticky. I was babbling. Terrified. I knew what the bite meant. I didn’t want to be dead at eighteen. I didn’t want to be one of them.

I don’t know what I was saying, but Nick kept shouting “You are not going to die!” until I stopped. His goggles hid a lot of his face. I wanted to see his eyes so bad right then. He poured something clear on the bite that sizzled, then some powder that burned. The bleeding stopped. He poured the last of the clear liquid and wiped away a lot of the blood. I could see my skin getting pale on the edges. “I’m going to get in touch with Regenerator,” he said. He pulled my hand up and had me press down on it. “He can fix this, babe. He can heal you.”

“He can’t,” I said. “Stealth said so.”

Nick shook his head. “He can’t help people who’ve changed. You’ve just got a bite. He can heal it. Remember when he healed your broken leg? My gunshot?”

“Do we have enough time?”

“We’ve got plenty, babe. Plenty of time. A couple hours, at least. And he’s just over in Hollywood. Not even two miles from here.” He slid a phone from his belt.

“You sure?”

“I am so sure.” Then, to his phone, “It’s Gorgon. Where are you? Banzai’s been bitten.”

He was listening when I heard the screams. Two voices. Man and a woman. West of us. It took my mind off my shoulder.

“No, it was just a minute ago. I cleaned it out.”

“Nick,” I said. “Did you hear that?” The male voice was shouting orders. A warning? I couldn’t make out the words, but I could tell he was slipping into fear. I’d heard that edge on a lot of voices lately.

Nick nodded at the phone. “Hollywood and Cahuenga? We can meet you there in twenty minutes.”

I swung my arm a few times. Not stiff, not too weak. The shoulder was already getting numb. I knew that was a bad sign, but it also meant I could start using it again. I pulled my top shut and retied the sash.

The cell vanished back into his belt. “He’s waiting for us there. The National Guard has an emergency medical center set up. You’re getting top priority.”

I finished the knot and shook my head. “The people first.” The bloody shoulder ruined the colors of my outfit, but I didn’t think anyone we met was going to complain. I headed west. “You coming?”

“Damn it, Kathy!”

“We can’t leave them. Plenty of time, remember?”

Down on Fairfax there were nine exes. Three people. Two girls and a guy. One of the women was already down. The exes were closing in, but still wide.

Plenty of room. Just the way I liked it.

Nick caught up with me. Without the helmet he looks so hot in his Gorgon outfit. I kissed him on the cheek. “We help them,” I said, “and then we go meet up with ’Genny.”

I hurled myself off the rooftop. Spun on a lamppost. Double flip. Split kick. Snap. Crouch. Sweep. Hammer kick. Snap.

God, I love this.

CERBERUS CRANKED HER speakers and her voice boomed across the street. “You want to talk, be quick. That other truck’ll be back in a few minutes with reinforcements.”

The bald Seventeen barked a laugh and gestured to someone out of sight. Half the chains dropped from the front of the garbage truck.

The beast darted forward, its talons scraping on the pavement, and got yanked back by the remaining chains. Even dead, it was fast. When the ex moved, the silver pendant bounced on its bony neck, half bound by the collar they’d put on it.

“Is that what I think it is?” whispered Andy.

“Yeah,” Cerberus said. There was a metallic hiss to her voice when she whispered. “That’s Cairax.”

“Shit.”

It was hairless, and death hadn’t changed its leathery skin much from the splotchy purple of a fresh bruise. It was still gaunt, and even with its curved spine it was as tall as Cerberus. Its head was like a monstrous deep-sea fish, with cloudy, saucerlike eyes bent in a permanent scowl by the thick brow ridge, and a forest of fangs and tusks jutting out past its lips. The long, spidery fingers each ended in a knifelike claw. Its tail dragged on the ground, the barbed end twitching now and then.

“You and I both know they didn’t hear your radio,” the bald man said. “So you’ve got about ten minutes for that truck to get home and another twenty to get back here.” He pointed down at the beast. “How many people can he kill in that time?”

Cairax lunged again and the garbage truck shook as the chains went tight.

A quick blink shifted her screens and gave her picture-in-picture of the rearview cam. She could just see Andy’s profile behind the lift gate. “Who’s hurt?”

“Jarvis is bleeding pretty bad but I think we’ve got it. Ty … I think Ty’s dead. Half his throat’s gone.” There was a pause. “We’ve got four guns on Cairax’s forehead.”

“He’s bulletproof,” hissed Cerberus. “He’s mine. Get baldy.”

The Seventeen banged on the roof of the garbage truck with the AK’s stock. “You all done whispering over there?”

“You wanted to talk,” she thundered. “Talk.”

“Here’s the deal,”