Chương 144: Dan, Part 2

It was Wednesday, August 14th, 2013. A newspaper billowing in the stagnant breeze told me that. It was 4: 38 PM, the blinking electronic clock on a distant bank sign told me that. The end was near, the massive tree in the distance that held the fate of the entire city and everything I cared for in it told me that.

It took me eight months to go from being a homeless terror on drug dealers without anything to my name but the sound I got out of criminals' bodies when I got to them to spray painting my costume's colors in streaks along building walls. I could see it from where I was standing. I saw several of those tags in different shapes and styles and off-colors all the way through the city, leading up towards the Platanos. I needed time to recover my strength before I made my charge.

I was gonna get it by doing what I did best: Hunting scumbags. In my hand was that bottle of painkillers Tancred gave me, told me how to use. No more than four in a day. I popped two at once to catch up on lost time. As they sat in my mouth, I considered how long digestion would be. So I chewed. Took in that bitter, awful taste to help wake me up out of any fatigue I was experiencing, before swallowing. It didn't leave as bad a taste in my mouth as what was happening to the city.

I suspected twenty to thirty minutes for it to kick in. That was the time I was giving myself to recover. Lunging from the building's ledge, I sent myself hurtling towards the nearest tag in my colors. Nothing. If anything had happened, it had come and gone. The alternative was it was just a signal of who they were supporting. Who they knew would save them. The New Sentinels. Me. Another leap. I thought of weightlessness. Footage of astronauts on the moon.

The air didn't slam into me with the same force as normal, I didn't hear the rushing of wind in my ears, there was no buzzing in my feet as I landed on another building. Yet I was moving just as fast. No headaches yet. This time, between tags, I saw two tree men. Knights as they were called. They were slamming their fists into an apartment and trying to dig their arms into the windows and holes in the wall. Wasn't going to let that fly. I hurtled myself towards one while tossing Shivvy at the other.

Shivvy ate away at one while I slammed into the other's head with enough force to make it burst as I landed against the wall. I rolled over to perch on the opening that same tree man had punched into the masonry. I turned towards the inside, tried see who was in danger. A father standing in front of three small children, brandishing a fire-poker. Fear in his eyes, but he didn't let that stop him. I gave him a thumbs up.

"I've got it from here. Hunker down," I called out before looking at the regrowing head of the tree man I blasted through. Pouncing off the ledge, I grabbed a fistful of the Knight's shoulder, exploiting the weightlessness I could put myself through now to get some more air-time. In that moment, I whipped my body around and sent him hurtling into the sky. There was probably no space while we were disconnected out here. God only knows how long he'd be soaring for. Maybe forever.

Maybe there was a hard upper limit he'd shatter against. Wasn't my problem. Wasn't that family's problem anymore, either. Shivvy returned to me from finishing off the other tree man meal, sliding into my costume as I launched off again. This could be my last patrol. I didn't want to admit it, but it was possible. I had to get the most out of it. Meant I had to avoid doing too much with my powers all at once. Just jumping, just some strength, had to pick and choose when and where.

My next lunge brought me further through the city. I could hear gunshots echoing, screaming. Rushing towards the sound with lower, faster lunges, I ended up in a parking lot where a few of the hired ADU troopers were shooting away at a car with people in it. Intentionally missing, terrorizing them. As they reloaded for another volley, I approached. Before they could rack their weapons, I turned them around.

Reaching for the magazines of one of the rifles, I put about ten, maybe fifteen percent of my strength into just my hand. I then squeezed. Felt like hot bubble wrap, all the bullets cooking off in my grip. No pain, however. Not enough time to build up any momentum, perhaps. Or the way gravity let me survive getting shot before worked a lot better than I thought when it wasn't my head. The ADU trooper looked at me, face sunk in terror.

The other trooper started raising his rifle, so I simply cast my hand out, tossing the torn-apart magazine in his face with enough force to knock him unconscious. The still-standing one just handed me his gun, which I tore in half. I then mangled the other one for good measure, before yelling at them both to go to the police station and surrender. While they scurried away, I went over to the car to find a couple. They were bruised, crying, terrified.

"Is your car still working?" I asked. They shook their heads. Those assholes must've hit something important.

"Come with me," I asked them, and led them out of their car to one of the nearby buildings, where I yanked open the door. Seemed like an empty repair shop. But the walls were brick and it wasn't damaged by the trees, so it was their best hiding spot until this was over. They went and found a quiet corner to sit in after I gave them directions to the police station if they needed somewhere else to go. I hurried back out and took another leap, now about three quarters of the way to the tree.

I was near the city's edge now. Immediately, I could see in a park two figures around a pile of vines, full of people. Father Mangal and Benghal. Mangal looked sick, his entire body leaking out vines that were constantly grabbing at the air. Must have been a consequence of eating that heart. No time to wait. I lunged with enough force that the air cracked. Benghal was the first to react, shooting off a tangling vine towards me, though it was off-mark due to my speed, only tangling around my arm in a thick wad.

Good. That meant a free boxing glove. I could swing just a bit harder now. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. As I flew closer and closer to them, I brought my hand back, and- WHAM My fist crossed Benghal's jaw with enough force to knock him clean out, some teeth and bloody spittle flying. His own vines probably kept him from getting killed.

As I tore the vines from my arm, Father Mangal sent a tidal wave of vines flying towards me, reaching out with grasping fibrous tendrils. Shivvy instinctively poured out from my costume, practically recognizing the scent of an endless food supply. That lunge for prey caused the flood of vines to effectively recoil and pile together away from him, which gave me space to just swing my arm up and grab as many of them as possible.

With a fistful of vines in my grip, I simply yanked, pulling Father Mangal off his feet and whirling him through the air before sending him careening towards a nearby pond, where he landed with a loud splash. After a couple seconds he floated up, unconscious. My gaze then snapped towards the imprisoned people in the roots and vines he formed, who I tore from their prison and sent splinters and fibers and strands flying with each yank.

"You should be in the clear for now, get to the police station or find somewhere to hide out!" They began piling out, maybe ten or twelve people in total. I wasn't keeping a close track, I was just focused on making sure the mob of terrified people were able to crowd into a few different buildings, some torn apart by trees and others managing to have avoided such a fate. From there was another lunge, sending me to the very edge of the city limits. One more leap and I'd be there.

Glass shattered just before I landed, and turning towards the noise I spotted a group of men, probably not much older than me, clambering into a store. Dark hoodies, cloth around their faces. Just looters thinking they could exploit the chaos. Not ADU. Couldn't get too aggressive with them. But they still needed to realize this was not the time to get into any bullshit. I stormed over to the store they busted into, yelling out a "Hey!" as I tried to get a better view of the group. One had a baseball bat, metal.

The rest were unarmed. That one just instinctively hurled it at me, though it simply pinged off my body. I caught it on the rebound, grabbing both ends and squeezing them until they crumpled, before yanking and tearing the bat in half. I then pointed one broken end of the bat towards them.

"Go fucking home. I don't care if you're not ADU. I will put you all in wheelchairs." Without any argument or debate, they simply dropped their bags and scurried out, rushing back into the city. By this point my head wasn't echoing any throbs. My eyes seemed stable. Keeping my strength as rudimentary as possible for long enough, probably something like fifteen percent, seemed to take the pressure off entirely. The painkillers also helped plenty for that now that they seemed to be kicking in.

All that was left was one more leap, where I finally reached the base of the Platanos. Up close, it didn't look like a tree anymore. I'd seen pictures of the mesas out West in the desert. Big, flat-topped hills and mountains that from up close reminded you of just how small you really were. That sort of scale seemed to be the case for this tree. So damn wide that it could occupy my entire vision and I still couldn't see either side. So damn tall that I couldn't see the underside of the leaves at the top.

At the front it had this opening that its roots and vines grew around, large enough for an eighteen wheeler to drive through without any issue. Standing in front of it was the welcoming party. On one side was Father Assacu, still monstrously molded into that strange and awful body caused by eating his heart. He stood in this weak slouch, gaze half-fixed on me and half-fixed on God knows what elsewhere that just happened to be in my direction. He barely looked alive.

The only reason I couldn't say he was dead on his feet was because I could see his back rising and falling with each heavy breath. On the other side was Mother Socratea. The sniper who nearly killed me. It looked like she had eaten her own heart as well, as she looked even more sickly than ever and when initially she just had almost this belt of brambles and roots and vines to move her around.

Now it was more like a skirt or dress that went so far past her legs that she was just standing on them, putting her a good eight or so feet in the air. She held her rifle in one hand, eyes constantly flicking around, but always stopping to rest on me. Practically at her height by standing on just his own two legs, however, was Father Quercus. Unmarred by any injury. Face stony and solemn. He wielded an axe as tall as he was, the axe's blade wide and long enough a grown man could sleep on it.

The wooden heart dangling from his necklace throbbed and pounded loudly. And surrounding the three were all of his wolves. The four smaller ones, and the big one named Fenrir. The look in every single one of their eyes was one of lethal desire. The only thing keeping them from killing me, I could tell, was the offer they extended before.

"Hercules," Father Quercus spoke out.

"Both bold and unwise of you to come here on your own. Unless, of course," he started, beginning to crack a smile on his aged face.

"You wish to join us?" Assacu let out some kind of hissing groan at that, maybe disagreement. But he seemed too far gone to find the words anymore.

"There's no joining people like you," I called out.

"Unlike any of the idiots and psychopaths you've misled, I know what you all are doing. Gleditsia tried enticing me the first time we fought with one of those visions. I'm not giving up my life to fucking trees. My life is my own to live." Father Quercus clicked his tongue as he hefted up and shouldered his axe. The other two seemed to tense up, and the wolves all climbed to their feet.

"Unfortunate. I'd been warning Master Sequoia for quite some time that we'd been needing superior stock for a far more efficient and agreeable war. Stock like you, or your group's leader. The other two as maybe utilities. If we got to you sooner, helped you understand earlier, we wouldn't be here. But he was too enchanted with secrecy. He was averse to open warfare until the absolute last minute. Now I am stuck in yet another brother battle, against a lapdog of those who hate us both.

But hopefully, after killing you, that will never need to be done again." Every word from his mouth felt facetious, fake. This man wasn't some skilled orator or politician. These words didn't mean anything to him, he just heard similar ones that got him to join other groups in the past, this one included. He thought maybe I would've been convinced the same way. That's when I realized it. He's not a warrior. He's a performer.

"I'm no dog." And he's about to face the real deal.