Hero complex, p.9
Hero Complex, page 9
Chapter Ten
Bronte was sure she was walking on air. She could control going metallic. How insane was that? The entire situation was nuts if she stopped to think about it, but for now she was riding the high of being able to make something work exactly as she wanted, when she wanted. Since she woke in the hospital, nothing had felt in her control. Until the day Bard kicked in her door, everything in her life had been orderly and prescribed. She followed the scientific method at all times, since all she did was work. At least now there was something she could point to as hers, something that made sense. As long as she set aside the fact that having superpowers was a bat shit crazy place to try to build a house of normalcy.
She flipped through Spero’s chart as she made her way to her workbench. Her metallic hands reflected the warehouse lights. She’d been metallic for hours since she’d mastered changing back and forth. It seemed the fastest way to learn more about moving in that state. She’d been up all night, but now knew she could change the sheen of her exoskeleton from a matted dull finish to bright and shiny. That was handy when her roommates were trying to sleep. Apparently, no one wanted the bunk next to something as bright as a neon sign advertising cheap cigarettes at a twenty-four-hour minimart.
Spero was waiting when she arrived at her workbench. She nearly dropped his chart.
“You scared me, man. Were you trying to sneak up on me?” Bronte wagged a finger at him.
He tapped his ears and pointed at her.
“I know I can hear better than anyone here. But only if I’m paying attention.” She muttered the last part under her breath as she tossed his chart on the bench. “I’ve been looking over your chart trying to figure out what they were doing to you and the others. Do you know?”
Spero pointed at his screen then at himself.
“They wanted to fuse you with the screen? That’s pretty obvious, buddy. Do you know why?” Bronte flipped to another page in the chart. It mentioned “human operators.” “They’re obviously interested in emotional manipulation via technology, but we need more information. We need a look at their data.”
Spero nodded. He picked up a weird looking piece of equipment at his feet and placed it heavily on the bench. Bronte examined it carefully. The longer she studied the less she believed what she was looking at.
“Did you build a computer from the scraps you found in here?”
Spero held his arms out to his side as if saying “obviously.”
“Is there a way to get online without being detected? If you’re good with computers are you any good using them? Maybe using them to get into places others would prefer you don’t go?” Bronte resisted the urge to cross her fingers.
This time Spero rolled his one visible eye. Bronte took that as a yes although with Spero you never could be sure. She didn’t know why he didn’t seem able to speak. She added it to her mental list of things to look into. She hadn’t finished reading his chart, maybe that would provide the answers she sought.
Before she could spend more time thinking about his vocal capabilities, he pulled a neatly folded sheet of paper from his pocket and handed it to her. She unfolded it and found a list of electronics, tools, and materials. Most of them were common and easy to come by but one or two weren’t the types of things you could buy just anywhere, and at least one was very expensive.
“You want me to get these for you?” Bronte indicated the list.
Spero nodded and pointed to the computer.
“I don’t know if you remember, but we have a lot of people after us and we don’t have any money.” Bronte tried to hand the list back to Spero.
He pushed the paper back to her and handed her another sheet. This one contained detailed directions, that seemed to be not far from the warehouse they were in. There were crudely drawn paths through the abandoned industrial park they now called home, the woods, and far from roads. Where it led, Bronte could only guess. At the bottom it said, twenty thousand dollars.
“Is this for real?” She knew she sounded skeptical. Strike that, disbelieving.
By way of answer he pointed at the list of directions, double tapped on the dollar figure, then pointed to the list of items he wanted. Finally, he pointed to the kitchen, then Athena.
“Now you want me to endanger Athena too? Is that what all the pointing and lists are about? Sending us out there?” Bronte was talking to Spero’s back. He was walking away, retreating to his own workspace across the warehouse. “This is a terrible idea.” Bronte made her way to Athena. “How would you like to set out on one of those adventures you mentioned you like? I don’t remember the details, so this might not qualify, but I’d love the company and I could use your help.”
Athena looked suspicious. “You said they sound awful.”
“Trust me, I haven’t changed my mind. Special request from Spero. I think. He built a computer and needs some supplies to get us online. I’m not entirely sure what he’s asking if I’m honest. It’s hard to tell with him, but we do need more food and other basics.” Bronte heard the papers crumpling from her tightening grip. “Where’s Galen? Should we bring her too?”
“She’s been curled in a ball in bed most of the day. Something about the full moon and too many emotions.” Athena looked worried as she glanced toward the bunks.
“Is she a werewolf?” Bronte whispered behind her hand.
Athena playfully batted at Bronte’s shoulder. “You remember there are people after us, right? They can track us if we start checking our email, and in case you forgot, we don’t have any money.” Athena ticked things off on her fingers.
“Are you coming or not?” Bronte grabbed a hooded sweatshirt she was thankful Galen had purchased and headed for the door.
“Of course I am. Someone’s got to look after you.” Athena fell into step next to her with her own sweatshirt. She rapped her knuckles on Bronte’s head. “All clear.”
Annoyingly, the zeptobots retreated and her exoskeleton disappeared. “I’m the one in charge. Don’t listen to the backseat driver. Hell, she’s not even in the same car.” Bronte still wasn’t sure how to talk to the zeptobots so she continued talking to her hands. She pulled her hood over her head and as low over her face as she could as they exited the warehouse. “Don’t you think my metal suit might come in handy out here?”
Athena adjusted her own hood but not before Bronte saw her shake her head and smile ruefully. “If we want to call as much attention to ourselves as possible, yes. If we need you to suit up, do not waste even a second getting all shiny. For now, let’s be two people out shopping for whatever’s on your list with our pretend money. That will make this trip strange enough. We don’t need to add a metal woman to the mix.”
Bronte unfolded the directions Spero had given her. “I haven’t even told you the weird part yet.”
Athena laughed. “Oh good, because I’ve been waiting for all of this to get weird.”
Bronte turned and caught Athena’s eye. They stayed that way, caught in each other’s gaze. Inhale. Exhale. Bronte’s stomach fluttered. Maybe the zeptobots were practicing rhythmic gymnastics?
Bronte and Athena smiled, then laughed. Not joyous laughter but pressure relief laughter like the quick steam release from a pressure cooker.
“Have to find the humor where we can, right?” Athena reached for Bronte’s arm but pulled her hand back before she made contact. “Knock my socks off with the newest oddity.”
“Spero gave me directions to what he says is a twenty-thousand-dollar stash.” Bronte pointed to the right, past a long row of warehouses in similar disrepair to their own.
This slice of town had once been the beating heart of the city when manufacturing was how a living was made. Now the buildings remained but the soul of the place was long gone and no amount of political arguments had arrived at a suitable use for the old buildings. Meanwhile nature waited on no man and was slowly retaking the land.
“Do you think it’ll be there?” Athena’s eyes twinkled. She didn’t look nervous or timid. She looked confident and fearless.
Athena belonged at the helm of a pirate ship or leading an expedition in search of long-lost treasure. Adventuring suited her. Bronte wished she knew what suited her, especially given all the recent changes in her life.
“One way to find out.” Bronte clung close to the shadows of the buildings although she noticed several security cameras hanging broken from the roofs. Even those that were working probably weren’t being monitored anymore. She scolded herself for not being more nervous. It was hard not to get caught in Athena’s infectious smile and the thrill of the chase. Maybe robot Bronte would consider an adventure now and then.
They followed the directions silently until they approached the target. They’d traveled cautiously, but it had still only taken them thirty minutes. Spero had directed them far from well-traveled roads and through areas with plenty of hiding places. It would be hard to track them even if someone had been looking.
“Why does Spero make us play charades constantly if he could carry around paper and pen to tell us what he’s thinking or wants?” Athena looked over Bronte’s shoulder at the directions.
Bronte shrugged. “If you figure out why he does anything he does, let me know.” She tapped the paper. “It says we need to go into that cemetery.” Bronte pointed across the street to an old looking cemetery tucked in among ancient trees. “Then we find plot nine hundred seven. The name on the marker is TLEC.”
“Then what?” Athena scooted closer. She was practically draped over Bronte’s back. “Is that right? We dig? I’m not digging up Spero’s great-great-granddaddy no matter how much money’s buried there.”
“Are you scared of old bones? I thought you liked adventures.” Bronte didn’t want to move because then Athena wouldn’t be so close.
“Not the kind that might summon old ghosts. I draw the line at apparitions and spirits.” Athena shuddered. “We all have limits.”
“Good to know.” Bronte finally broke the contact but took Athena’s hand. The jolt of heat made her subtly check to make sure she hadn’t developed a new fire power or something else unexpected. It was only their joined hands that was making her skin feel aflame and her fingers tingle. Were the zeptobots doing that too? She gently released Athena’s hand.
“It wasn’t just you. I felt it too.” Athena smiled at Bronte.
“Okay. Good. That’s good. Wait, are you reading my mind? I thought that was Galen’s thing.” Bronte stopped walking.
“No need. Your poker face is shit. And Galen senses emotions. She can’t read minds.”
“Oh. I guess I should work on that. Maybe when we get back. Right now though, what if Spero’s place is a secret stash or a dead drop? You know, like you see in spy movies.” Bronte took Athena’s hand again. Bronte looked left and right to check for cars and bad guys before stepping out of the shadows of the large nondescript building they’d been using as cover. This section of town was also industrial but hadn’t been abandoned. There were security cameras and regular patrols by hired guards. She felt exposed as soon as the sun hit her skin.
Athena must have felt the same because she squeezed Bronte’s hand tightly and made a run for the cemetery. Bronte stumbled, then found her footing and kept up.
“Why would Spero have a dead drop or secret spy stash?” Athena pulled them to a stop once they were safely in the cemetery and began looking at the plot numbers. She pulled Bronte along one of the curving paths that led farther from the road.
“Why does Spero supposedly have twenty thousand dollars buried in a cemetery?” Bronte was winded but wasn’t going to give Athena a reason to drop her hand. She dutifully panted along with her.
They found the plot and marker before either of them could come up with an answer that made sense. They stared at the ground in front of the grave marker. It was unadorned except for “TLEC.” No dates or sentiments were written on the marker. The grass was neatly trimmed despite the cemetery’s age. It didn’t look like many of the adjoining sites received frequent visitors.
“Now we dig?” Bronte knelt in front of the marker and reread Spero’s directions. They lacked critical details she would have liked to possess. “How deep? How far from the marker? What size object are we looking for? What do we use to dig?”
“You’re too much of a scientist. Use your gut.” Athena moved her hand along the ground from the middle of the marker about ten inches. “Here.” She dug her fingers into the earth and pulled at a chunk. Then she stood and looked around. “Do you see anything we can dig with?”
Bronte sighed. Was she really about to talk to her hands again? “I don’t need full body metal, but my hands would be great. I need to dig a hole. Can you read my mind?” Bronte pictured what she needed while saying “tool” silently. She almost jumped out of her skin when her hands nearly blinded her as they reflected the sunlight.
“No way. You have claws.” Athena grabbed one of Bronte’s hands and turned it over and back.
Sure enough, there were half-inch-long claws, with a diameter just shy of a pencil at the base protruding from the end of each finger. Bronte scooped at the dirt over the spot Athena had marked. Her clawed metal hands were like the bucket scoop on an excavator. If Spero’s great-great-granddaddy was buried here, these paws were more than capable of digging him up. Not that she had any interest in doing so. If Spero was lying about the money he’d gone to a lot of trouble to send them here. But why did he know about this pot of gold? What kind of person buried money in a cemetery?
Five scoops in and they both heard the unmistakable clang of metal on metal. Bronte sped up her digging. Despite the inefficiency, Athena elbowed her out of the way and took over for the final bit, clearing off a three-foot-square box. She didn’t pull it out of the hole before finding the latch and popping the lid.
Bronte peered over Athena’s shoulder. They stared, speechless, at the contents. Money wasn’t the only thing the box contained. There were passports, driver’s licenses, what looked like marriage, birth, and death certificates, and a disturbing variety of weapons.
“Do we take anything else?” Athena poked at a handgun. “As a nurse, it feels wrong to take something I could hurt someone with.”
“I’m a scientist. I can tell you about combustion and velocity, but I’ve never fired a gun. I’m unwilling to carry one.” Bronte lifted the stacks of twenty-dollar bills out of the box. There were ten stacks held together with violet paper straps. “If there are one hundred bills in these stacks then Spero was right.”
Athena shook her head looking shocked. “I have some questions for that man when we get back. I’m grabbing some of these passports too. They might come in handy.” She put the money and passports into a sling pack she’d fashioned out of material from the warehouse.
Bronte hastily closed the lid and shoveled the dirt back on the box. They’d been here too long. “We should go. It feels too exposed.”
“I agree. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing, like something’s out there after us. I guess there is though.” Athena rubbed the back of her neck and followed Bronte back the way they entered.
They made it nearly back to the road when Bronte heard something that sounded out of place. She couldn’t locate or identify the sound, but her instantly thudding heart and electrified feeling told the only story she needed. She took Athena’s hand and pulled her behind the closest tree. She heard the bullet whistling their way seconds before it impacted the tree, sending shards of wood into the air.
“I guess I should have given my neck hairs more credit.” Athena closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “You and I are going to have to work on a definition of adventure. Mine don’t usually involve bullets.”
“Good to know. And this is why I don’t like adventures.” Bronte peeked around the tree. There were three men she could see. “Suit up.” She whispered the command.
“Do you know if the zeptobots are bulletproof?”
“I chose a metal that can withstand the harsh conditions inside the human body indefinitely.” Bronte again peeked around the tree. The men weren’t advancing. She looked at the distance to the road and the cover of the hulking buildings and maze of warehouses, some of which were busy doing whatever real warehouses did. It looked like the space between the eye of a hurricane and an umbrella drink in a tropical paradise. In theory geographically close but in reality, miles of shitstorm apart.
“So you have no idea if those bullets will kill you.” Athena looked worried.
“No, I have no idea. But I know for sure they’ll kill you. So I’ll make a scientifically sound judgment and stay between you and the projectiles. Do you think you can make it back to the buildings?”
“Yes. We can’t go back to our starting point though, you know that, right? Until we’re sure we’ve lost these guys, we’re on our own. And your plan to step in front of bullets for me? It’s a shit plan. I don’t like it.” Athena peeked around the other side of the tree, picked up a rock, and chucked it as far as she could in the opposite direction to where they wanted to go.
As soon as the rock hit the ground Athena took off. Bronte was caught flat-footed, but she caught up quickly. They made it halfway to the road before the men started gaining ground. Bronte dug deep and ran faster. The wind was blowing through her short hair. She focused on the goal in front of her and assumed Athena was still by her side.
“Bronte, I can’t keep up. Please wait for me.” Athena sounded desperate.
The sound of her fear stopped Bronte. She pivoted and was floored at how far she’d run ahead of Athena. The three men were close on her heels. They weren’t firing their weapons. It looked like they intended to take Athena alive. The shot earlier must have been a warning shot.
