Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) (56 page)

Amy shook her head at her twin,
like Emily was a rebellious child that you just couldn’t help but be charmed by. 
She smiled warmly at her, the love shining from her nauseatingly pleasant face. 
Even from here, Tyrant could she her playfully bat at her sister’s arm and say
something to the effect of, “Oh, you!” in an amused tone.  The twins
disappeared from view as Amy was trying to give Emily yet another hug.

He again began imagining the
gristly scene in the cafeteria tomorrow morning.  Enjoy your last day on Earth,
girls.  First you, then Gurrier, the Stacy creature and Harlot.  And Ferral. 
He’d be in there somewhere too.

A car bearing the Freedom Squad
insignia rolled through an intersection in front of him, and Tyrant tossed his
staff at it.  He had no idea why heroes would be driving a
SEDAN
to the
scene of the battle, but the Squad logo on the car made it fair game in his
opinion.  They were either heroes readying themselves for an attack, or
civilians who needed to be taught a lesson on how to
properly
decorate
their conveyance.  The perfectly balanced weapon tumbled through the air,
sliced through the windshield and whoever was operating the vehicle, passed
through the back window…and then through the car BEHIND the car with the Squad
logo on it…which was DOUBTLESSLY also filled with heroes despite its lack of
Squad designation.  There was only a
MINISCULE
chance that he had just
slaughtered a carload of civilians…not that it really made a difference either
way. 
Whoever
they were, at least they had the honor of looking upon him
before they died.  That would be enough to allow such inconsequential beings to
die fulfilled.  Seeing such perfection up close was as near as they would get
to heaven anyway.  The weapon finally stopped its journey and lodged itself in
the street a short distance away.  Tyrant nonchalantly made a flicking motion
with one finger and both of the cars were propelled into the atmosphere.  He
wasn’t entirely sure where they would fall to Earth again, but wherever that
might be, it wouldn’t be near HIM and therefore it did not matter.

He grabbed his weapon as he
strolled by and continued his walk back to the others.

Unlike the rest of the people in
the Consortium, Tyrant always managed to remain in complete control of
himself.  He was his OWN master.  No village, or family, or lover, or friends to
get in his way and make demands on him.  He LISTENED to no one but himself, ANSWERED
to no one but himself, and CARED about no one but himself.  That was one of the
advantages of not being a brainless thug; you had higher brain functions and
didn’t simply act on reptilian instinct.  Eat.  Breathe.  Blink.  Fuck. 
Sleep.  That was the life which his compatriots/soon-to-be-victims lead.  They
went through their days ignoring the things in life which
really
mattered,
because they were distracted by delusions of “love,” or “happiness,” or “friendship,”
or any other ridiculous and imaginary utopian concept that their own warped
brain could come up with. 

Like Harlot and her useless new
pet, for instance.  They could pretend that their so-called “relationship”
meant
something, but it didn’t.  It was simply a physical exchange of bodily fluids. 
An
act,
not an expression of anything deeper, because nothing deeper
existed.  It was a
delusion
.  Like a mirage in the desert, drawing you
ever deeper into the sands and away from safety and sanity.  He had
tried
to tell them that of course, but Ferral had objected and gotten angry with
him.  That “man” was so terribly unbalanced.  Overly emotional and irrational. 
It wasn’t Tyrant’s fault that he didn’t want to hear the truth.  But Tyrant was
used to getting that kind of reaction from the endless herd of idiot people he
was forced to
temporarily
work with.  He spent a great deal of his time
trying to get his coworkers to
see
the truth.

They all defined themselves by
their “friends,” their mates, and the potential for breeding.  They were all
looking outside of themselves for the solution to their own weaknesses and
languor.  And that’s what “friendship,” “love,” “family,” and “happiness” were;
weakness. 

Feelings of any kind were weakness;
cages which trapped the unwary.  Like the Eden sisters and their powers, other
people merely dragged you down; made you
weaker
than you really were,
and kept you from achieving your ultimate glory.  And there was nothing about
himself that was weak.  He felt
nothing
and never would.  He was an
inexorable monster; and some monsters were too big for cages.  Too big for the
world around them, and its meaningless people and petty problems.  Some monsters
were designed to walk the world, alone and glorious, consume everything in
sight, and then move on.  They couldn’t change, even if they wanted to, which
they obviously
didn’t
.  “Friends” and “family” were just another meal to
a beast that was always hungry, and always would be.  “Love” was just another ineffective
weapon that enemies sought to use against it to make it soft and vulnerable.  It
was complete and perfect unto itself, and required no one else.  Its wrath
would consume this world and every other, no matter who or what stood in its
way.  That was just the way of things; the way the world worked.  He could see
that, even if the others couldn’t.  They were all blind.  So very blind.  …And
deeply
stupid.  But they would realize their mistake before the end.  Come the
Day
of Days,
they’d see. 
They’d all see
.

In Tyrant’s opinion there were two
kinds of people in the world; Tyrant and people who were
NOT
Tyrant.  He
would never allow himself to become focused on something as trivial as
someone
else
.  The very idea was appalling.  Someone else was by definition NOT
him, and thus was
entirely
unimportant.  Tyrant concentrated on Tyrant
and Tyrant alone.  He would not let someone else become the focus of his
thoughts or actions, even for an
instant
.  He would remain the center of
his
own
universe, and that would lead to him becoming the center of the
ACTUAL universe.  It was inevitable.  Everyone else was an obstacle to
surmount, a distraction to avoid, or an annoyance to crush.  They were all
expendable, and existed only because he hadn’t yet found the time to destroy
them.  But he soon would.  He was above the cheap licentious rabble and their
inane ideas; a gleaming spotlight of utter
perfection
, in a dark sky of
foolish uncivilized animals.

Tyrant looked around the now empty street
again and gave a self-satisfied sigh.  There.  He had rescued his
ridiculous
coworkers from their own stupidity, and done his good deed for the day by
allowing Harlot to believe that she was actually
relevant
in some way. 
Now he had to return and oversee his caged Princess and make sure she stayed in
his clutches.  The buzzing insect was plotting something…she would soon make
her move.  It was just a matter of time…

A
hound scared a hare from his lair, but after a long run, gave up the chase.  A
goat, mocked him, saying "The little one is the best runner of the
two."  The hound replied, "You do not see the difference between us: 
I was only running for a dinner, but he for his life."  The moral of the
story?  Necessity is our greatest weapon.

Harlot had just about finished
bandaging Wyatt’s injuries and was cautiously optimistic that he might live
through this.  Well…live through his CURRENT injuries anyway, the night was
young.

Vaudeville was now the only one
left trying to stop the doomsday device, as all of the other villains but Meg
had left or were busy.  Harlot didn’t actually COUNT Meg as a contributing member
of the Consortium though, since…well…she didn’t actually
contribute
anything but fear and threats.  Vaudeville for his part, seemed to be spending
most of his time pacing back and forth on the platform of the machine, staring
at the controls blankly, and talking to the TV camera about 80’s sitcoms.  All
in all, he wasn’t being very helpful either.

He stood in front of the controls
watching the various screens and dials, obviously hoping that either someone
else would come along who knew what the hell they were doing, or his brain
would suddenly pull the needed information out of thin air, and he’d be able to
disarm it himself.

Down the street a ways, a large
gelatinous mass…which must be some hero who was so obscure that not even SHE
knew its name, was currently trying to drown several members of the Excessive
Force in its awful looking pinkish body.

Cory looked down at the keypad,
yelling to no one in particular.  “Umm…hey guys?  The little light things on
the thing are blinking red, now.  Is that good or bad?  Is that bad?  I’m
guessing that’s bad, right?”

Meg had found a pop-up book of
fairy tales somewhere, and was currently flipping each page, and quickly
smashing whatever popped out at her, as if it were an attacker.  She turned the
page again and gave a squeak of surprise as Hansel and Gretel burst out at her
from the page.  They were quickly crushed with her palm, and then she tore the
pop-up gingerbread house from the book, and cautiously started to eat it to see
if it was real.

Wow.  Crazy.

Vaudeville glanced down at the
countdown clock as it continued to tick away, and didn’t look happy about
whatever it said.  Nope.  It was looking more and more like SHE would have to
do something…

Just then, a familiar figure
appeared.  Tyrant stalked down the street looking every BIT the psychotic,
pissed off dimension killer he was said to be. 

Cory looked like he had NEVER before
been so happy to see someone he didn’t like.  He threw his arms wide.  “KASS! 
Hey, man!  Am I ever glad to see you!  Say, you happen to know anything about
doomsday devices, by any chance?  ‘Cause I could really use some help disarming
this one.  Think you maybe want to try some of your green mojo on it, or toss
it into outer space or something?”

Tyrant looked unconcerned.  “My
part in this battle has ended.  You will attend to your OWN toils, and not
hassle me again by trying to foist them off on
me
.”  He held out his
hand.  “Now return my property to me.”  He snapped his fingers in irritation at
the half-second delay.  “
AT ONCE,
peasant
!”

Vaudeville passed the small silver
cage back to him, and Tyrant promptly secured it to the hook at his hip. 

The ball of light made a low
buzzing sound and Tyrant glared at it.  “Well, tough.  I
DID
survive, so
your captivity shall
continue
, Highness.  I will rule your pathetic
kingdom, or exterminate your feeble people and bring about an age of blood and
shadow.  The hidden power of the Fairy Folk shall be
MINE, just as YOU are
mine!  Do you hear me!?!  MINE!!!
”

The ball of light bounced around in
its cage making a tingling sound. 

Tyrant gave another laugh.  “Foolish
woman.  That boy cannot stop me.  Neither of you have any idea what you’re
dealing with; I am more powerful than you can possibly imagine.  You are
pathetic
little creatures who…”  He paused as the tingling got louder.  “No, I am NOT
just repeating myself, and I do not have to think of something else to call
you.  I didn’t call
you
pathetic earlier, I said that your
KINGDOM
was pathetic, it’s completely different, and naturally if the kingdom is
pathetic, all of the inhabitants would similarly be…”  He paused as the sound
continued.  “Slow down…what are you babbling about?  What old woman?”  There
was a rapid series of shrill sounds, and he made an annoyed baffled face and
waved a dismissive hand.  “…I don’t know…I heard a noise and
dealt with it
. 
It was
probably
an enemy, and who cares if it
WAS
some useless
old woman?  The hag should have…”  Chirp.  “Oh, that other car was FILLED with
enemies, you just couldn’t see them because of your…”  Ring.  “…I command you
to be
SILENT!  Your master orders it!”
  The buzzing got louder and Tyrant
stalked away still arguing with his hostage.  “What does she even have to do
with it?”  Buzz.  “You insolence increases with each passing day.  Perhaps I
should pin you up under glass, and hang you on my wall like the pretty little
butterfly you are…
”

To Harlot’s utter shock, the man
then simply walked away, completely ignoring the doomsday device and the
ticking clock. 

Vaudeville looked amazed as well,
and called after him:  “Yo!  Hey, man!  You forgot to take out this thing!  ‘Cause…” 
His voice got lower as he realized that Tyrant didn’t care.  “…’Cause it’s going
to kill us all…”

Tyrant didn’t pay any attention to
him, and simply got back into the Consortium vehicle.  He pushed Prohibition’s
unconscious, drunken form out of the way, and turned on the engine to listen to
whatever a tyrannical inter-dimensional madman listened to.

Great.  Just great.

Harlot was now satisfied that
Wyatt’s wounds were properly stabilized and walked up behind Vaudeville on the
machine’s platform.  “You figure this thing out, yet?”

He laughed, near hysterics.  “Sure,
Harl.  I managed to find the instruction book and everything.  Got my license on
doomsday machine maintenance through the mail in one of those mail-order
certification things, and now I’m thinking of going into…”

She held up a hand to stop his
babble.  “All you had to say was ‘no,’ Cory.”  She looked over her shoulder at
the man on the gurney.  “Wyatt?  Any ideas here?”

His eyes fluttered open again.  “Well…getting
me to the
hospital
is always my go-to option in cases like this…”

She made a face.  “You’ve already
seen
a doctor, and you’ll be
fine
until we can get you back home.  Besides,
if we don’t stop this thing, your injuries are going to get a whole lot worse
in a hurry.”  She looked down at the clock and her mouth fell open as she saw
the time displayed.  “As it’s looking right now, we have less than a minute to
live, honey.”  She glared at Cory.  “Maybe you could have WARNED us before now
that we had
THIRTY SECONDS TO LIVE, CORY!  Maybe if you had STOPPED talking
about TV and…” 
She trailed off as the importance of what she was saying
hit her.  “…TV! 
FIND A TV!”

Realization crossed Cory’s face as
the clock reached the fifteen second mark, his eyes darting around to find a TV. 
She vaulted over the handrail of the machine and dashed for the window of the
electronics store where they had previously been watching cartoons, but to her
horror, all the sets had been broken at some point.  SHIT.  SHIT!  “
We need
a Television!”

Wyatt frowned as if just thinking
of something.  “Wait…where are we?  3
^rd
and Weston?”  He chuckled. 
“Thanks, Peter.”  He pointed to a second story apartment over the electronics
store.  “They’ve got one.  In fact, they’ve got
mine
.  Peter gave it to
them years back.”

She looked up at the apartment and
sure enough, spotted a TV sitting in the window.  “WYATT, STAIRS!”

Wyatt’s eyes fluttered open again and
a set of transparent stairs of sparkling energy appeared, leading to the second
floor of the building…disappeared…and then appeared again as Wyatt concentrated
harder.

Vaudeville slid down the ladder of
the machine and stood a few steps back, and preparing himself.  “Gimme a
channel!  HURRY!”

She grabbed the TV and ran back
down the stairs.  She plugged it into the outlet in the window of the store…DAMN! 
No power.  She turned to the two figures walking up to the scene.  “Stacy! 
POWER!”

Ten seconds.

The girl put her hand on it and the
TV blinked to life.

Vaudeville was jumping up and down
now.  “Now!  NOW, goddammit!  This stuff takes time to do! 
FIND ONE!!!”

She flipped through the channels.  “Ummm…news…children’s
charity event…A speech by the president…Hey, here’s a channel showing
US! 
...Probably
shouldn’t send it
here
though, since it’s
already
here…”  She
found one still at commercial, and decided that the
Sham-Wow
guy was
just going to have to deal.  Hopefully, his supply of absorbent towels would
shield him from the worst of it.  “Fifty-Two!  Fifty-two!”  She dove out of the
way.  “
Fire away!”

Two seconds.

Vaudeville’s static eye started
cycling to the correct channel and the commercial appeared in it.  

Harlot pointed at Gurrier.  “Toss
it in, Hazz!  GO! 
HURRY!
”

The huge man kicked the side of the
machine and it was pulled straight through the screen.  A second later,
whatever had been on that channel was obliterated and the station went to test
pattern.

Tyrant beeped the horn of the van,
indicating that he was impatient with waiting, and was ready to leave. 

Vaudeville dusted off his hands in
self-satisfaction.  “Well, I took care of it.  The weather machine is out of
the city and far away.”  He wiped his hands together again and smiled.  “That
was really, really easy.  Hell, I should have done that half an hour ago and
just gone home.  Why were the rest of you even here, at all?”

Harlot clapped her hands together,
feeling like she was about to cry from relief.  “Awesome, Cory!  You saved us
and no one got hurt!”

He frowned slightly.  “Well…it’ll
be a bad couple weeks on
Gilligan’s Island
, but I’m sure they’ll make it
through okay.  How much damage can one little weather machine do, anyway?  And
it’s not like the cast didn’t have a lot of dead weight to begin with.”

Wyatt started chuckling, and she
turned to stare at him in confusion.  “What’s so funny?”

His laughter continued for several
more minutes.  “I just think it’s hysterical that we actually pulled this off,
that’s all.  All my life, I’ve lived with heroes and seen the kinds of things
they can do.  And I thought it was pretty impressive, but they can’t hold a
candle to you guys.  A few hours ago, I would have told you that we had no
chance in hell against them.”

“Actually, you did.  Several
times.”

He nodded.  “Yeah, yeah I did.  But
Peter was right; sometimes it’s the little guys you dismiss as too slow that
can surprise you.  I’ve seen a lot of amazing things in my life, but I’ve never
seen anyone pull it together like you did today.  I have to say, I’m not easily
impressed, but that was pretty remarkable.”  He suddenly became serious.  “You
know…we really could make this work.  There isn’t a hero team in the world that
could stand against us.  …Or
villain
for that matter, depending on how
you wanted to go with it.”  He shrugged.  “Lady’s choice on that front, of
course.  I don’t care.  But either way,
we
run this city.”  He kissed
her hand.  “I have never been prouder to be part of a team or a family, than I
am right now.”  He motioned for her to lean down over his stretcher.  “And I’m
very proud of you.  We owe all of this to
you.
”

She realized she was crying, and
reached up to wipe her face.  He kissed her passionately, and she tried her
best not to tear open his stiches.  He didn’t appear to notice the pain he must
be feeling.  For the first time, there was a hunger in his actions.  Like he
was a drowning man, at last allowed to finally breathe.  

The rubble across the street to
their right shifted, and a very bruised Poacher pulled himself from a pile of
bricks; swearing a blue streak.  He staggered out into the street, carrying a
large crimson claw from Redline in his hand like a trophy.

She pulled away from Wyatt and gasped
as she saw the blood pouring down the front of his costume, HIS blood, which
was unusual for him.  Usually it was someone
else’s
blood which he was
covered with.  “Oh God, Syd!  You okay!?!”

He nodded tiredly, his eyes
scanning the street for enemies.  “
Bloodied but unbowed
.”

She squinted at his oddly cultured
reference.  “What?”

He wrapped a length of cloth around
a large wound on his arm, and then winced as he pulled it tight.  “I said: HOLY
SHIT, do I feel like shit
.”  He bent to retrieve his fallen weapon from
the street like it was a long-lost friend, and almost fell over in the
process.  He replaced his prized elephant gun into its holster and stumbled
back towards them.  “Fucker thought he had me…”  He coughed.  “Pinned me down…so
I hacked off one of his claws with the fucking machete, and he brought the
building down on top of me.”  He pointed to a smear of blood and gore on the
side of his face and coughed.  “But first he made the mistake of throwing me
into the remains of Captain Asshole over there that Wyatt spattered all over
the street.”  He looked over at Wyatt.  “…Thanks for that by the way. 
Normally, I’d be pissed about getting brain matter all over my face because of
you, but it was a nice surprise that this
particular
mushy goo came with
a free gift.  Bingo.  Guess who’s invulnerable and super-strong now TOO,
motherfucker!
 
That’s right…”  He pointed the claw at his own chest.   “…this goodlookin’ som-ma-bitch
right here.  Bet he figures I’m dead, but he should have stayed to finish the
job.  One little building’s not going to kill me, ESPECIALLY not while I got
that dickhead Dauntless’ powers.  Stupid move.  Sloppy.”  He glanced down the
street searching for his target.  “But I got his scent now.  Just need a brief
intermission till I stop bleeding some…course by then I won’t be wearing
Dauntless anymore…but I’ll figure it out.”  He raised his voice to call out
into the night.  “
Then I’m going on SAFARI, asshole!  You should have killed
me when you had the chance!  You hear me!?!  I ain’t NEVER found a hunt I
couldn’t finish!
”  He coughed and tripped over a brick, almost going
sprawling into the rubble again.  He leaned forward, resting his hands on his
knees to regain his balance, then looked over at Harlot with tired, swollen
eyes.  “So…how’d we do?”