Page 4 of Empowereds

4

E nzo Vasquez had always wanted to ride in a flying car but not like this. While his partner gripped the steering wheel and swore, Enzo turned to survey the man in the back of the squad car. Normally, criminals weren’t much of a problem once they were bound in dura-rope, let alone handcuffed, but this guy was a telekinetic.

Before putting the man in the squad car, Enzo had buckled a hood over his head so he couldn’t see. Standard practice for telekinetics. Otherwise, they’d find some way to hurt you. Two years ago, an officer had been careless with a capture and had been strangled by his own seatbelt. But even without sight, telekinetics could still manipulate anything they touched. In this case, the car.

The man was stronger than any of the mutants Enzo had dealt with before. He’d lifted the car like it rode on an invisible elevator. Either Empowereds were getting stronger, or someone could be doubly a mutant—both a telekinetic and a forte, extra strong.

“Hey,” Enzo barked, “if we crash, you’ll be just as dead as the two of us, so I suggest you return the car to the ground. Straight down or you’ll run into a building.”

The car jumped upward, a motion that pushed Enzo into his seat.

The criminal laughed. “Everyone knows that once the government gets a hold of you, you might as well be dead. I don’t have a problem taking a couple of you butchers with me.”

Great. The guy had a death wish. “And you don’t care about crashing into buildings and killing innocent people either?”

“Nope,” the man said. “But if you untie me, I promise not to drop this car a hundred feet from the sky.”

Like promises mattered to Empowereds.

Merkley, Enzo’s partner, snorted. “The freak is telling the truth. He doesn’t care about destroying anything, including this country.” He cast a look over his shoulder at the bound man. “Which group has butchered more people? Empowereds or those of us who stop your kind?”

The guy tried to move, but between the seatbelt and the dura-rope, he only managed to shift a little. “I haven’t killed anyone who wasn’t in my way. Right now, that’s you.”

Yes, it was. Enzo blamed this mess on whoever had filled the sleeping vials in his kit. The shot should’ve knocked the guy out until they reached a holding cell. But maybe this mutant was more resistant than most Empowereds. Enzo had zapped his shock collar when he first started lifting the car, and the man had just lifted it faster. Enzo finally had to stop for fear the man would lose power and plunge the car onto the street.

“Nobody has to die today,” Enzo said in a calming tone. “If the government deems you trustworthy, they may want you to work for them.” This wasn’t completely a lie. It was in the realm of possibility that the Department of Empowered Affairs would work with a telekinetic. Although granted, not this guy. He’d been caught levitating a motorbike from a car lot to steal it.

“Think this through,” Enzo said. “Do you want to go through the pain of broken ribs and a punctured lung from slamming a car into the ground?” The car would fill with oxygen gel during an accident, but it had its limitations, and they’d probably already passed them. A twelve-story building stood to one side, a sixteen-story building to the other. The car looked to be about fourteen stories up.

“Untie me,” the man demanded. “Unbuckle this hood, and then we’ll talk.”

Yeah, and Enzo knew what that talk would be—the guy’s sinister monologue about the stupidity of the police while he pulled their dura-rope guns from their holsters and strangled them. Police didn’t carry real guns when dealing with telekinetics. There’d been too many instances of telekinetics using handguns to kill police officers, often mowing down innocent bystanders in the process.

Merkley smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “We’re not stupid, freak. If you want to live, set us down.”

The car’s cameras showed that a group of people had gathered on the street corner below, hanging about and gawking at the sky. Such foolishness. Any sane person who saw a car hovering in the sky would know it had to come down sometime. The impact from this height would take out a lot of the area around it. Basic physics. But no. The group loitered near the probable crash site, phones out, recording the event.

Enzo pushed his radio button to connect with a dispatcher. “Have someone move the crowd below us, asap.” He had called for backup as soon as they lost control of the situation. Only two minutes had passed, but he’d expected to see some sort of police presence. A distant helicopter, at least.

The dispatcher answered in a faint voice. “Help is on the way, officer.” The woman didn’t say anything more. She wouldn’t give out any information the criminal could hear.

“Is it a big crowd?” the man asked. “I’ve always wanted to die in a spectacular way.”

No point in feeding the guy’s ego. “Just an elderly couple out walking their dogs, but I have a soft spot for golden retrievers. It would be a shame if we hit them.”

The telekinetic didn’t respond. The man was bluffing about being willing to die. If Enzo knew anything about Empowereds, it was that they were selfish to the core. The man wanted to live. Enzo just had to wait the guy out.

Merkley grew more agitated by the moment. His neck flushed, and his eyes bulged with anger, maybe fear. Enzo couldn’t remember if his partner had ever mentioned having a fear of heights.

Merkley let out a long, growl-like breath. “If I’m going to die, you gong farmer, I’m going to get my pound of flesh first. Literally. I always carry a knife.”

Was his partner serious, or was this part of a good cop/bad cop scenario? Merkley always played the bad cop. He took to the role naturally.

“You don’t want to get the car all bloody,” Enzo said. “The guy’s strength is probably about gone, and the car will start sinking by itself.” Telekinetics’ power lasted longer than physical strength, but eventually, even they tired. Lifting a vehicle had to be draining. “Aren’t we already going down a bit?”

In response, the mutant jolted the car upward again. Now they floated higher than the sixteen-story building by several stories.

Merkley growled. “I’ll teach that punk a lesson.”

“Not with your knife,” Enzo whispered. “He’ll turn it against you.” Telekinetics couldn’t control an object unless they saw or touched it, but once a blade touched him, he could hijack it.

“My fists then.” Telekinetics couldn’t control another person’s body. They couldn’t override a brain.

His partner pushed the button that lowered the plexiglass wall between the front seats and the back cage. “Take the wheel.”

At this point, taking the wheel was useless, and Enzo wasn’t optimistic enough to think he’d need it any time soon. Technically, he should move because his senior officer had given him a command, but Enzo needed to think, not play musical chairs.

Merkley heaved himself over the front into the cage.

Enzo didn’t stop his partner, didn’t think clearly about what he was doing. His mind spun, trying to come up with a solution that would get them to safety.

The moment Merkley’s feet touched the cage floor, the car violently flipped over, then continued to flip, knocking Merkley into the left side, the ceiling, and the floor. Sky and buildings spun by in flashes. Enzo’s seatbelt cut into his shoulder, keeping him in place as he jerked with the movements of the car.

Merkley screamed and held out his hands to try and absorb the blows. It didn’t matter. He was thrown around like a doll. Every thud and crack announced a new injury.

Enzo couldn’t stop any of it from happening. The shock collar controls had flown off his lap during the vehicle’s first flip and were smashing into walls and ceilings alongside Merkley.

The car continued to thrash like a bucking bronco, up and down, side to side, fast and whiplash hard. Merkley’s helmet was knocked loose and flung around the interior. It smacked into Enzo, into Merkley, and into the criminal. The man didn’t stop. Merkley’s moans grew fainter, then ended.

Enzo wanted to curse the telekinetic in every language he knew, but he kept silent. The guy might think he’d incapacitated both officers. If Enzo had taken off his seatbelt to move behind the wheel like Merkley had ordered, he would’ve ping-ponged against the walls too.

Finally, the car’s motion slowed. The criminal tilted the car, hood pointing straight downward. Merkley tumbled into the front and came to rest on the windshield. His face was red and swollen, cut in places. Blood spotted the car’s interior. Was he breathing? Enzo couldn’t tell if he was unconscious or dead.

During the car’s wild thrashing, it had moved further away from the street and now hovered near the top of the sixteen-story building. If they drifted five more feet to the left, they’d be over the roof, and he could jump out.

The car straightened a little. “Hey copper,” the telekinetic said, “you still willing to make a deal?” He was checking to see if Enzo was conscious.

Enzo didn’t answer. The man cocked his head, listening.

Time for a decision. Did Enzo stay here pretending to be unconscious or take a chance, leap through the door, and hope he could make the five feet to the top of the building? What was the telekinetic planning to do with the car and two unconscious police officers? The man couldn’t see to drive, and even if he could, the department tracked police vehicles.

Enzo glanced at the streets below them. A police tank was rolling down the road with its cannon pointed firmly at the sky. What the … was the tank going to shoot his car down?

No, the tank wouldn’t. Not with two officers inside. But another part of him knew differently. The government had shown more than once that they were willing to sacrifice civilians to take out an Empowered. Police officers could just as easily be considered collateral damage.

Enzo eyed the distance between his door and the top of the building. Might be more than five feet. Might be six, which would mean he’d fall.

“Copper? Got anything to say to me?” The man was fishing.

Enzo silently pulled his dura-rope gun from his belt. If the building was farther than he anticipated, he’d shoot the rope at it. The hook on the end would automatically anchor itself on the wall, and he could at least hang there until help arrived. That was the safe thing, the only thing to do with a police tank on the prowl.

He didn’t want to leave his partner but wasn’t even sure if Merkley was alive. Police procedure had been drilled into him—no unnecessary heroics. Don’t risk your life to save those who’ll die anyway.

Once Enzo unbuckled, he’d have to jump out fast in case the telekinetic decided to spin the car around again. He hesitated. How could he leave his partner here? But what other choice did he have?

Using the end of the gun barrel, he pushed the emergency button that opened all doors, with his other hand, he unlatched his seatbelt.

Instead of aiming his gun at the building, as he leaped from his door into the air, he shot the rope at his partner’s back. It was most likely a stupidly sentimental gesture that would cost him his life, and this mission would be recounted to students in the police academy as an example of what not to do.

The air passed beneath Enzo’s feet. Down on the ground below, he could barely make out the spectators moving out of the tank’s way.

He landed on the roof with a jarring thunk. He’d made it. He was safe. He took a couple of running steps to absorb his momentum.

Almost immediately, he was yanked backward. The car sped away, and the rope that was tethered to Merkley had pulled him out the open door. Enzo had known Merkley would be heavy, but he still lost his footing. Merkley’s weight dragged Enzo across the building toward the edge. Yep. Trying to save his partner had been a stupid plan. This wasn’t going to work. Still, he didn’t let go of the rope.

Enzo slid across the roof until he hit a lip on the side of the building. The thing stood only a foot high, but fortunately, it was enough. He wedged his feet against the lip and refused to budge.

He stayed there, clutching the rope and breathing hard, for several moments.

If he got up and walked backward to haul his partner up, would the friction from the edge of the building cut through the rope? Maybe. To fit inside a gun, the rope had to be thin.

He ought to call headquarters and ask for help, but with both hands busy keeping Merkley from plunging to his death, he couldn’t reach his phone. Enzo spotted a hole in the edge’s lip, the kind for water runoff. He pulled the rope up, his muscles burning, until there was enough slack to wind the rope through the hole and secure it.

He looked over the roof’s edge to check on Merkley. He dangled, limp and unconscious, twenty feet down.

That’s when the explosion happened.

A flash of light and heat. A boom so loud it pained his ears. The percussion wave knocked him onto his back.

Seriously? The tank couldn’t have waited one more minute to fire on the squad car? If the telekinetic hadn’t been hightailing it away from the area, Enzo would’ve taken some dangerous shrapnel. As it was, only small pieces hit him, pinging against the top of his helmet and biting into the exposed skin on his hands and neck.

He propped himself up to check on Merkley. It would be just his luck if, after all Enzo had done, shrapnel had severed the rope.

Nope. His partner swayed around, either still unconscious or still dead.

Enzo pulled out his phone to call headquarters. He’d make sure this time they sent actual help, not an armored tank to kill him.