“Jon …,” Tia said. “I’m worried. We don’t have enough of a handle on the city or the situation to take on an Epic like Obliteration. We don’t even know his weakness.”
“David says he’s nearsighted,” Prof said, crouching down.
“Well, David is usually right about such things. But I don’t think that’s enough to—”
Another flare of light. I looked up, as did Prof. Obliteration had moved, probably by teleporting, and was now two rooftops away from us.
Screams sounded from that direction.
“Plan?” I asked urgently.
“Flash and bump,” Prof said. It was the name of a maneuver where one team drew the target’s attention while the other team surrounded them. He reached out, taking me by the shoulder.
His hand felt warm, and now that I knew what to look for, I felt a slight tingling. He’d just gifted me some shielding power and some ability to vaporize solid objects. “Tensors won’t be of much use here,” he told me, “as there isn’t much tunneling that we’ll need to do. But keep them handy, just in case.”
I glanced at Exel and Val. They didn’t know Prof was an Epic; apparently I’d be expected to keep up his ruse in front of them. “Right,” I said, feeling a whole lot safer now that I had some of Prof’s shielding on me.
Prof pointed toward a bridge linking this rooftop to the next one. “Cross that bridge, then make your way over toward Obliteration. Figure out a way to distract him and keep his attention. Val, you and I will use the boat—motor on, no use trying to hide from Regalia now—to come up behind Obliteration. We can plan more as we go.”
“Right,” I said. I glanced at Mizzy. “But I should take Mizzy to cover me. Obliteration might come for Tia, and you’ll want someone with more experience covering her.”
Mizzy glanced at me. She deserved a shot at being in on the action—I knew exactly how it felt to be left behind during times like this.
“Good point,” Prof said, jogging off toward the boat. Val ran behind him. “Exel, you’re guarding Tia. David, Mizzy, get moving!”
“Going,” I said, sprinting toward another rope bridge leading to Obliteration’s latest explosions.
Mizzy ran behind me. “Thanks,” she said, sniper rifle over her shoulder. “If I’d gotten stuck on guard duty again, I think I’d have puked.”
“You might want to wait to thank me,” I said, leaping onto the rickety bridge, “until after we survive what comes next.”
12
I shoved past fleeing people on the narrow rope bridge, rifle held high over my head. This time I kept my eyes pointedly off the water below.
The bridge sloped gently upward, and when I climbed off it I found myself atop a large roof crowded with tents. People huddled inside their makeshift homes or at the periphery of the rooftop. Others fled through waterways below us or across bridges onto other buildings.
Mizzy and I ran across the rooftop. The ground had been spraypainted with a sequence of yellow and green lines that glowed with a phantom light, outlining pathways. Near the middle of the roof we passed a group of people who, strangely, weren’t hiding or fleeing.
They were praying.
“Trust Dawnslight!” shouted a woman in their center. “Bringer of life and peace, source of sustenance. Trust in the One Who Dreams!”
Mizzy stopped, staring at them. I cursed and yanked her along after me. Obliteration stood on the next rooftop over.
I could see him easily now, striding among the flames, trench coat flapping behind him. He had a narrow face with long, straight black hair, spectacles, and a goatee. He was the exact sort of person I’d learned to avoid in Newcago, the sort of person who didn’t look dangerous until you saw his eyes and realized that something vital was missing in there.
Even for an Epic, this man was a monster. Though he’d originally ruled a city like many top-tier Epics, he’d eventually decided to destroy his city completely. Every single person in Houston. He was an indiscriminant killer. I was beginning to think some Epics might be redeemable, but this man … not a chance.
“Take up position over on that ledge,” I said to Mizzy. “Be ready for instructions. You do demolitions for the team?”
“Sure do.”
“You have anything on you?”
“Nothing big,” she said. “A few brick-oven-blenders.”
“A few … What?”
“Oh! Sorry. My own name for—”
“Whatever,” I said. “Get them out and be ready.” I lowered my rifle and sighted on Obliteration.
He turned to glance at me.
I shot.
He teleported in a burst of light—as if he’d become ceramic and then exploded, shards of his figure spraying outward like a broken vase and scattering along the ground.
Preemptive teleportation. Worked just like I’d read.
Mizzy ran the direction I’d pointed. I knelt, rifle to shoulder, and waited. The rooftop where Obliteration had stood continued to burn. His primary power was heat manipulation. He could drain anything—people included—of heat with a touch, then expel it either in an aura or by touching something else and transferring it.
He’d melted Houston. Literally. He’d spent weeks sitting in the center of town bare-chested like some ancient god, drawing heat out of the air, basking in the sunlight. He’d stored heat up, then released it all at once. I’d seen photos, read the descriptions. Asphalt turned to soup. Buildings burst into flames. Stones melted to magma.
Tens of thousands dead in moments.
Well, from what I remembered of my notes, I should have a little time before he could reappear. He could only use his teleportation powers every few minutes, and—Obliteration appeared beside me.
I felt the heat before I spotted him, and I spun that direction. Sweat prickled on my brow, like I’d stepped up to a trash can fire on a cold night.
I shot him again.
I heard half a curse from his lips as he again exploded into shards of light. The heat vanished.
“Be careful, David,” Tia said in my ear. “If he gathers heat and pops up right next to you, that aura could overcome your Reckoner shield and fry you before you get a chance to shoot.”
I nodded, scrambling away from where I’d been before, rifle still to my shoulder and sights lined up. “Tia,” I whispered over the line, “do you have access to my notes?”