Don't Be a Hero: A Superhero Novel

28: Can Anybody Hear Me?

He wiped his forehead against his shoulder without taking his hands from the controls. As he did so, he glanced out the side of the bubble. The road fell away beneath him, obscured by the heat waves from the rocket engines. The wheels retracted to gain protection from the heat.

That was not pleasant, he thought as he brought the bike fully under control. Perhaps wings wouldn’t be so bad after all. He gunned the throttle, and relaxed as the rockets carried him upwards through the night. The streetlights had turned to pin pricks now, mirroring the stars above. The air whistled against the side of the bike as he raced towards the Peace Tower.

The tower was narrow at the bottom and swept out into a wide observation deck in the middle. Higher still, the tower tapered back in until it formed a needle that continued a further three hundred feet into the air. A red light blinked atop the tower, but tonight there was something else there as well. A tiny shadow balanced on the needle’s tip, looking down over the city. Morgan slowed his approach, and the shadow turned to regard him.

Sam showed no sign that he noticed the cold wind that buffeted his hair. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and as Morgan approached, he saw the boy wasn’t actually standing on the needle. He hovered a foot or so above the tip, his toes pointed towards the earth. The night shrouded his eyes. Red scratches marred Sam’s bare chest. Some were narrow—knife wounds, perhaps—while others were thick. They all looked more healed than they should, though. Perhaps one of the prisoners Morgan had butchered had an accelerated healing power.

Are you proud of yourself, supervillain? he asked himself as he eyed the boy’s wounds and saw the madness in his eyes.

Morgan brought the bike into a holding pattern ten feet from the boy. If Sam decided to attack him, the bike would offer him no protection. The boy was powerful now, and soon he’d be stronger than the most optimistic of his models had predicted. The combination tracker/sensor he’d had implanted in the boy when O’Connor first brought him in had reached the maximum detectable power level twelve hours ago, and Morgan had no doubt Sam had grown stronger since then. Morgan could practically feel the air bend around the boy.

With the flip of a switch, the bubble around him began to retract. His heart thudded as the flimsy perspex barrier moved aside, leaving nothing but the roaring wind between him and Sam.

The boy slowly raised his head. His eyes were pure white.

—I remember you. Are you here to kill me?

Sam’s lips never moved, but Morgan heard the words anyway, as clearly as if Sam was inside his head. Maybe he was.

“No.” Morgan had to shout over the wind. “You are unkillable.”

Sam appeared to consider that. His head drooped to one side, as if the muscles in his neck were incapable of supporting the weight of his brain. Dried dirt gathered on the slack flesh of his face.

—Are you here to save me?

Morgan gave a strained smile. “No, Sam. I’m here to tell you how to save yourself.”

Sam turned his head to the side, and Morgan followed the boy’s gaze. Hyperion hung above the city, ray cannons glowing. Almost invisible against the night, dozens of ropes dangled from the loading bay. Every now and then, a tiny dot of a human zipped down to the rooftops of the city below. His people were moving into position. Sirens rang through the night. Soon, battle would be joined.

“I have something for you.” Morgan reached into his front pocket and tossed a small vial towards Sam. It stopped in mid-air and hovered close to the boy’s face.