Blackout hit Angelica for the first time.
Interlude
So,” Jose says after a long sip of coffee. “Any word from the hospital?”
Garth manages not to slam his fist through the table. “None. Julie’s like everyone else that’s been brought in: catatonic.”
It’s enough to drive a person mad. No help from the nurses at the hospital, and even less from the doctors. No one knows anything, other than the hospitals are overflowing with zombies.
A hand claps him on the shoulder. “Hang tough, mate,” Terry says. “She’ll pull through. She’s no porcelain doll.”
Garth wants to punch in Terry’s dentures. If the man had agreed to have the Latent Network up and running, maybe Julie would be sitting by Garth’s side even now. But no—lashing out at the leader of their ragtag group wouldn’t help matters, especially since now, at least, Terry was willing to hear him out.
Although punching Terry would make Garth feel a hell of a lot better.
The five of them take up the small card table in Jose’s back room: wiry Jose, beanpole Luke, broad Terry, hardened Claire, and Garth himself, each with a minor power that keeps them safely off Corp’s radar. As if old Terry with his minor control of levitation could be Squadron material, or scar-faced Claire with her ability to sharpen knives. Jose could whisk away dust with a thought. Luke’s cast-iron stomach and unbreakable teeth let him bite through and eat anything, which was a plus whenever he’d tackled Julie’s cooking.
Ah, Julie.
Garth grimaces, pushes away her image. She’ll be all right. She has to be all right.
He’d just finished telling the others about what had happened over the past few days, from the fights in the street to Arclight’s crashing into his apartment to Julie and the others falling victim to the so-called zombie plague. And now he’s waiting for Terry to tell him that yes, the Latent Network will become active, and to hell with Corp and being discovered.
But time passes as Garth and the others sip coffee and half listen to the newscast in the background as the tele blares. And Terry doesn’t say shite about it.
Garth drains his coffee and slams down his cup. “So what’s it going to be? We going to sit here and watch the world burn? Or are we going to do something about it?”
Silence from his friends. In the background, the newsie blathers about Mayor Lee condemning extrahuman activity—possibly even those who have been helping the police and National Guard. “They cannot be trusted,” the mayor rants. His voice sounds tinny and ineffective.
“Do what?” Terry finally says. His voice is old and strong, his tone is thoughtful. “Tell me how we’re supposed to stop this insanity and I’ll happily listen.”
“Just get out there,” Garth replies, pointing toward the door and beyond that, to the city. “Do the little we can do. Something’s got to be better than nothing.”
“We’re not real extrahumans,” Jose says with a shrug. “Barely any extra there. We’d get killed.”
“Something’s better than nothing,” Garth repeats, his voice a growl. “We call up the whole Network, get everyone to come out. Yeah, there are hundreds of Squadron members gone bad, but we’ve got a thousand tucked away.”
“A thousand wannabes,” Claire grumbled. “None of them battle trained.” She, of course, could hold her own—the woman had been in more knife fights than Garth could count.
“And all living normal lives,” Jose says. “Paying bills. Avoiding Corp. We get involved now, we can’t go back to that.”
“There may not be anything to go back to,” Luke says quietly, and Garth could kiss him for having his back. “The city’s in ruins, and Corp’s still not saying anything about it. And it’s not just New Chicago. The Americas are dying, man. The Squadron’s gone mad, and they’re destroying everything.”
“What’re you supposed to do?” Jose asks. “Eat the country to safety?”
Claire stiffens in her seat. “Guys.”
Luke snarls, “Now look—”
“Boys,” Terry sighs, “come on, this won’t help …”
“Help what?” Garth demands. “We’re not helping anything.”
“Guys! Shut it, will you?” Claire points to the tele. “Listen to this.”
Garth pivots in his seat, and he sees on screen a text banner declaring DOCTOR HYPNOTIC AT LARGE. The anchor, the lovely Gena Mead, looks appropriately serious as she tells the world, “It’s been confirmed that the supervillain Doctor Hypnotic has in fact escaped from Blackbird and is at large.”
A clip appears: Commissioner Wagner, looking haggard. “Harold Gibbons, known to the world as Doctor Hypnotic, has escaped Blackbird Prison. Citizens are strongly encouraged to stay off the