Don't Be a Hero: A Superhero Novel

29: Once More Into The Night

There’s always something. No matter how much you want to rest, there’s always a death ray or a bank robbery or a tsunami or a doomsday machine. There’s always more people to save. So you run and you plan and you dive through the fire and sometimes you fight when you have to but mostly it’s running, always running. Always trying to outrun the next crisis, always trying to be faster because you weren’t fast enough the last time and if that little girl had just hung on a second longer you would’ve been there, but she couldn’t, and you weren’t, and now she’s dead, so you run, trying to beat destiny. And you’re tired, always tired, but you run anyway. Because you chose this life, and there’s nothing else you’d rather do than see the smiles of the ones you save.

—Memoirs of a Speedster

***

Neo-Auckland burned, and Niobe watched. She sat on the roof of the Starlight Hotel with her feet dangling over the edge, taking long drags from her cigarette. It kept trembling in her fingers; she’d nearly dropped it over the edge once already. A portable radio sat next to her, barking one horrible fragment of information after another. She’d nearly tossed it over the side when Quanta had his little speech. The fighting was still a few blocks from her, but it would come. Every few minutes, the night lit up with another blast from Quanta’s airship, and a new wave of screams rolled across the city.

With her goggles and the aid of the radio, she tracked the progress of the battle, looking for something—anything—that would allow her to get to Sam. Met Div and the police were in tiny units scattered across the city, being ambushed and picked off by Quanta’s metas. The radio said the AAU was sending in military support, but they’d be lucky if there was anyone left to rescue by the time they arrived.

Over there to the south, she saw Avin leading an aerial attack on a pair of rooftop snipers; and there, a fire-based meta sent a column of flame into a building, flushing out the Met Div officers who were then struck down by some bestial creature as soon as they reached the street. And all the while, Sam hovered above the city, snagging civilians and pulling them around him. He already had close to two hundred people forming a near-impenetrable meatshield. And she’d stood by and watched, because there wasn’t a bloody thing she could do.

She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another. At least the fighting hadn’t touched the Old City. If Gabby was still there, she had time to get out. Part of Niobe screamed at her to rush back home, that Gabby would surely be waiting there, ready to accept all her apologies and take her back. Even if she wasn’t there, maybe Niobe could leave a message for her. It was so clear now, so clear what was really important.

But she couldn’t. Her place was here. Sorry, Carpenter. We were too slow. I wasn’t smart enough, and you…you were too damn heroic for your own good. She was alone against a psychopath now. No, not a psychopath. Worse. An extremist. A zealot. A man who could rationalise the torture and exploitation of a boy whose only crime was having the wrong father. How could she fight that kind of dedication?

Quanta’s airship slowed again. Half an hour ago she’d seen the flash of a miniature rocket engine as a small vehicle landed in the airship loading bay. It was Quanta. It had to be. He was sitting up there, watching the carnage he’d unleashed. And now he was using the airship to transport groups of his metas from one part of the city to the other. It made sense; the streets were so packed with cars and civilians that moving by ground was damn near impossible. She upped the magnification on her goggles and watched five supercriminals as they clung to the ropes that dangled from the airship. The rocket engines flared, carrying the airship up to float above a department store rooftop half a mile from her. The metas disembarked and disappeared from view, probably regrouping and gathering their strength.