The Push Chronicles (Book 1): Indomitable (7 page)

It was among the most painful experiences of my life to that point.  I knew instantly that I had fractured all of my knuckle bones, several finger bones, and who knows what in my hand.  I was actually in amazement that I hadn’t pulped my hand entirely, that it had simply been badly hurt.  The recoil of the punch shuddered through my body.  Just as I thought I would instantly pass out from system shock, all the pain vanished.  No, not vanished, but it was locked up in a little mental box and pushed off to the side.

The effect on the nigh-invulnerable demigod was equally dramatic.  I could see my hand after the initial impact push through the unnatural shape of Epic and connect with much reduced force into the jaw of Eric.  As my mind and senses seemed to partially reject the new reality of the Whiteout, my body was somehow doing the same.  Even with the punch’s strength reduced as it was, the force of the human body’s hysterical strength was more than enough to send Epic flying back across the office, smashing into my office door.  That impact shattered the glass panes, showering him with twinkling shards.

“I warned you, Eric,” I said.  My voice was icy calm.  Anger was giving way to a vivid, almost surreal clarity, no doubt brought on by whatever was flowing through my system.

“Do you want to know why this isn’t going how you want?  It’s all because of you.  You poisoned the well, not me!  Your life had some bad turns and you wanted to change it all.  You never thought that maybe, just maybe, some of those bad turns were your own fault.  It’s how you reacted to your tragedy that led you here.”

Epic pushed himself out of the bent and shattered door, wiping at blood that only existed on his inner form.  His eyes were no longer glowing, but instead were very human and very shaken.

“No.”  He shook his head.  “No no, I can still fix it.  It is far from over.  It is only a few setbacks.”  Some measure of his unnatural confidence had returned.  “Of course, of course.  The heroes never win in the first act.  There is always struggle, death, and adversity.  I just have to stay the course.”

I cradled my broken hand to my stomach and started to stalk towards him.  I had no idea how long I would be in this state of, I didn’t know how to describe it, focus.

“Eric, no.  You have problems, you need help.”  I took a deep breath and came out and said it.  “If you don’t stop this, God help me, I’ll have to stop you myself.  Somehow, I’ll find a way before you get more people killed.”

“Of course!”  Eric defied gravity again, floating in the air, some kind of mad realization in his eyes.  “A foil, a nemesis, a counter-agent!  Just as in physics, comics require opposite forces for the story to work.  It would have to be you.  Our love adds to the dramatic tension.”  He smiled, his lips curling in a way that was grotesque to me on some level.

“I understand it all now.  I was simply flying too high too fast.  My wings, though, are not made of wax.  I have the chance to fix it and now I know what I must do.”

I was right next to him at this point.  I reached out to grab a wrist, a hand, anything I could hold, hoping somehow to reestablish his connection with human sanity, but Epic had blurred out of reach in a blink of an eye.

“Oh no, my love,” he declared.  “This is just beginning.  I promise, in the end, I will bring you back to the side of the angels.  Until then, though, next time I will not go easy on you!”  With that unbelievably cliched dialogue, Eric disappeared in another burst of blinding light.

Whatever had been flowing through me, keeping me going, stopped abruptly.  I could feel pain start to turn to shock and I let out a moan of agony, both physical and emotional.  I felt like I had walked into a carefully laid plot, all set up by whatever insane forces pulled our universe’s strings now, and in my desire to try to fix it, I had become a player in this sick game.  I was already sobbing when the security guards ran in to help me.  

Chapter 9 Agency

I sat there in my makeshift corner of the Grady ER center, waiting for a doctor to give me the okay to leave.  The already stressed medical system in the city was being pushed beyond it’s limit.  What had formerly been the waiting room for ER patients had been split with portable dividers into a honeycomb of triage rooms and even that was overtaxed.

I gazed ruefully at the hardening cast that now covered my arm from elbow to knuckles.  I wanted to be gone and out of the way so that people who were actually dying could get treatment.  The hunger I had felt before was starting to come on again and it had me both worried and scientifically curious.  Most importantly, I hated the fact I was wasting valuable time sitting here and waiting for the doctor for no reason by a technicality.

Not that I hadn’t needed medical attention right after Epic’s departure.  Again, the miracle was that I wasn’t more badly injured.  My suspicions about that fact were advancing to full fledged theories now, but this wasn’t the place to confirm them.  Eugene hadn’t even questioned what happened.  There was only time for him to triage my injury and call the ambulance.

I had passed out briefly at some point during the trip to Grady, but I was cognizant by the time the doctors were examining me.  True to my instincts, I had managed to break every knuckle bone, badly sprained and fractured multiple hand tissues and bones, and aggravated my previous break.  Still, I wasn’t going to die anytime soon.  That still left me in the unenviable position of being on the bad side of a horribly powerful man whose love had turned into a love-hate relationship with me, the same man I had to stop.

Beyond the Whiteout’s influence, I had no choice in that course of action anymore.  I had poked the lion too many times in my attempts to help it and it was ready to roar.  Anything Eric did now was at least partly on my hands.  All the layers of lies had been peeled completely away and now I was sure that he would not back down to the government or the President Wednesday.

I sat up and tried to crane my head over the barriers; I felt more and more the need to get out of the hospital.  I didn’t see a doctor, but I did catch the sight of two neatly dressed individuals coming down the path between the triage areas.  One black man, one Asian woman, both with badges, they both looked deadly serious.

I palmed my own face; I should have expected to not leave before the police made it to me.  No matter what else, what happened to me and my office was obviously a result of Pushed activity.  I sank down behind the divider and sat back down.  It was for the best to get this over with, Rational Irene reminded me.

“Dr. Irene Roman?” the woman said, taking the lead in introductions.  I could guess, up close, she was of Korean descent.

“That’s me.”  I put on a pained smile for their benefit.  Offering my good hand, both of the officers accepted with quick, firm shakes.  The woman continued on with the pleasantries.  The badges weren’t local, that much I could tell, but I was playing more attention to the people than the badges to catch more as they were flashed.

“I’m Agent Choi and my partner here is Agent Brooks.  We’re happy to see that you aren’t seriously injured, Doctor.”  Choi seemed happy; Brooks had a dead level expression that betrayed nothing.  “We are with the FBI, working in association with the GBI and Atlanta police investigating Push incidents.”

“What happened tonight, Doctor?”  Brooks continued after Choi seamlessly.  Both of their faces were lined with age and stress; it was obvious they had both seen more than their fair share of action on the job.

“I was working late at the lab.”  I looked between the two agents.  “I’m assuming you guys know where I work, right?”  A silent nod prompted me to continue.  “Well, we’re in the middle of a study of a Tech student who was Pushed.  I was working on the data we collected today when, poof, bright white light and some big Pushed guy was there.  I tried to talk to him, but he was raving about oppressing his brothers and came at me.”  I raised my cast hand.

“I had the stupid idea to try and defend myself.  Maybe me getting hurt spooked him or made him snap out of whatever crazy he was on, because he looked shocked when I hurt myself so badly and he did the flash-gone trick again.  That’s when Eugene, the night watchman, burst in.”  Choi and Brooks exchanged meaningful glances.

“What happened to your face?  The doctor’s said those were previous injuries.  The same with your initial fracture,” Agent Brooks said.  He had the rough voice of a life-long smoker.

“You realize we have to ask, simply to be thorough, Dr. Roman,” Agent Choi added.  I lightly touched the numerous healing cuts and scratches.

“There was a Push Battle I ran into yesterday.  It would be better to say I was caught in the middle of it.  Some fire creature and Frosty the Fireman.  I got caught on the fringe of a car blowing up.  I’m just lucky it wasn’t anything really serious.”

I viewed the fact I was lying to government agents as practice for all the lying I’m sure I would be doing in the near future.  Again, there was that knowing exchange.  Agent Brooks crossed his arms across his broad chest, while Agent Choi produced a leather-covered notepad from an inner jacket pocket.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Roman, maybe the stress of the situation caused you to become confused.  We are finding that many people come away from Push Battles with hazy recollections and minor mental issues.  Let me refresh your memory.”  Her tone was sincerely apologetic, almost sweet.  It was classic Good Cop/Bad Cop, like you’d see on a police show.

“Yesterday morning, you were in the middle of a Push Battle, yes.  However, you left the scene under your own power after assisting several injured motorists, but before you could be questioned by any authorities.  One of them did take note of your license plate number, which we matched through the DMV database with your motorcycle.”  She flipped another page.

“In addition, your old injuries are inconsistent with the kind of injuries you would have sustained from an exploding car.  I especially find it noteworthy that your initial arm break was in the same arm you must have used to strike your assailant tonight and consistent with the kind of injury that can happen when striking an object too hard for the body to withstand.”  Well, there went any comparison to a typical cop show.  These two had done a lot of homework.

“Dr. Roman, this is the point where I’m going to ask you again:  What happened?  To your face and last night,”  Brooks growled out.

“Maybe you should also tell us what you know about Dr. Flynn and his disappearance,” Choi added.  “We know you had already stated to Dean Tyson that he was ‘sick and bedridden’, but he apparently contacted the Dean of the physics department and went on indefinite sabbatical starting, coincidentally, the day of the Whiteout.”

“To be specific, we’re talking about Eric Flynn, not Heinrich Flynn.  Or maybe you know them both.”

I looked from one agent to the other.  I was screwed.  I took a deep breath.

“Can we talk in private, at least?”  Agent Choi produced a set of handcuffs like magic but Brooks raised a hand.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Rachel.  Dr. Roman knows she’d be an idiot to run now, don’t you?”

I nodded silently in response and got to my feet.  I actually wasn’t entirely sure I was trapped.  Maybe it was the confidence brought on by decking what was probably the most powerful individual on the planet but I had a feeling I could probably get away and escape from these two if we got out onto the open streets.  I just wasn’t sure I wanted to.

It would be playing into the stereotypes the Whiteout was trying to enforce in people: heroes above the law, a suspicious government, all the old tropes.  I made up my mind as we exited the ER, Brooks behind me and Choi leading the way, to try to change up the game.

Rachel Choi and Duane Brooks sat with only the occasional comment as I talked.  We also ate.  I insisted we talk in a place where I could get food.  That massive hunger had returned, though not quite as bad as last time.  Still, I couldn’t help but notice that, despite their forced-neutral expressions when it came to the story, at least Rachel seemed astonished at how much food I was putting away.  I pushed away the empty sundae dish, my second in a row, and dabbed at my lips with a napkin.

“ ... and that’s, in broad strokes, what happened.”  There were still things I left out.  I felt the need to downplay the extent that I seemed to be able to ignore the new reality’s effects around us.  I didn’t totally understand it, the odd state my body seemed to be dropping into under duress, or these massive hunger spikes.  If I didn’t understand it, I didn’t want to encourage them to push further about it.

I also kept my own plans in the background.  To be honest, they were unimportant to most of the narrative.  The two glanced at each other as Choi flipped back and forth in her full notepad.  Brooks was the first to speak.

“I still think you’re keeping a few things from us.  That is, though, a hell of a lot closer to the truth than that bullshit you told us in the hospital.  Rachel?”

“I agree.  I don’t mean to bring up your recent personal tragedies, but the fact you were about to break down when you told us what happened to Dr. Flynn, well, that added a great deal of authenticity to the tale.”  She tapped at the notes.  “However, I don’t think you’re doing yourself any favors by hiding anything, no matter how minor, from us.”

“We’re special agents.  Our job isn’t just investigating Push Battles and penny-ante shit.”  Duane dug into his coat, pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes, and finally fished out a pack of nicotine gum.  “NASA is sure the Whiteout is Earth-based, you collaborated that, and we were sent here specifically to verify that theory and track down the source.”

“Well, job done, Agents.”  I gestured out towards the street.  “Welcome to Ground Zero of the new world.”

“My question is, Dr. Roman, why hasn’t Dr. Flynn a.k.a. Epic gotten rid of you?  His actions, especially tonight, seem to indicate that he considers you, for a reason you are keeping from us, some kind of threat or at least the cause the disruption of what he sees as a natural order of events,” Choi noted as she sipped at her coffee.

“I think he’s still in love with me, in some weird way.  He doesn’t want to kill me; he wants me to join his side of things.”

Choi nodded slowly in response.  Brooks chewed on his gum like it was more work than relief.  After a few moments of silence, he looked me square in the eye.

“Look, let’s be straight, Irene.  Rachel and I are going to track down Dr. Flynn and, if he is going crazy like you think, we’ll find a way to stop him.  We don’t know what your part is in this, but if you find out anything, you had best tell us.  It’s the best for everyone concerned.”

“Duane is right, you know.  This isn’t the time for half-cocked vigilante actions.  That cowboy attitude that seems to be going around is what’s causing this crisis in the first place.”

I broke gazes with the agents and mulled it over for a few minutes.  There were pros and cons of course.  If I came clean entirely with them, they might just arrest me on the spot and take me to be tested, questioned, and held for my own good.  They might also decide that because of both the changes in me and my willingness to cooperate, my plan had enough merit to let me stay free, only with the addition of a government leash.  The biggest concern I had was that I would, from now on, always be watched by the government, whatever choice I made.

“I can’t entirely disagree with you guys.  The problem is, well, I don’t want to be watched and hounded for the rest of my life.  I want to be able to walk away at the end of this, when the world gets fixed.  Can you tell me that I’ll be able to do that?”  I glanced from one to the other, trying to gauge their reactions.  If they decided to arrest me, I suspected they would do it now and I would have to be ready to run.

“I don’t think we can give you a promise like that.  Shit is just too damn weird right now; it’s not business as usual,” Brooks began, shaking his head grimly.

“What Duane is trying to say is that, we have no power to make such a broad statement.  What we can do, if you think we can trust her, Agent Brooks, is utilize you as a confidential informant.  Your identity will stay off the books and under the radar, at least for now, but we’ll still be able to maintain official ties.  It’s the best we can offer you.”  Rachel glanced at her partner, who confirmed her statement with a short nod.

The alien thoughts tried to poke through to me again, urging me to run now, that no good could come from relying on the police at all.  I clenched my jaw and resisted the intrusion on my mind.  If I was actually going to try to buck the system the Whiteout was trying to enforce, I had to go through with this now.

“Okay.”  I nodded slowly.  “I’m in.  Now, here’s what I didn’t tell you before ...”  I filled in the few gaps I had left about what was happening to me and my ultimate plan to try to beat Eric at his own game.

“That’s insane.  Not to mention highly dangerous.”  Rachel shook her head, then looked at Duane.  “I don’t think we can condone that kind of action from a civilian.”  To my surprise, Brooks shook his head.

“Rachel, we’ve already seen that we can’t tackle the Pushed problem head on.  Kowalski and Roberts proved that one, rest their souls.”  He waved in my direction.  “Whatever happened to Irene here, she’s not one of them, but she’s got something going on that at least gives her some chance at protecting herself if the shit hits the fan.  Well, that’s if we believe her entire story from start to finish.”