CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
Chasing Liberty, Part 2
----------------------------------------
“Slow down, will you,” Jackboot’s fingers gripped the edge of his seat, “or we’re going to crash!”
“Not while I’m on the wheel,” Farsight shot back at him. “So, stop trying to backseat drive and just enjoy the ride!”
This so-called enjoyable ride led them straight through the glass wall of the brand-new building beside Asbury Plaza, through construction materials and unfinished fixtures, and out to the street on the other side of it all while Sam and Jackboot screamed their lungs out. Yes, it was just the boys. The women of this new team were made of sturdier stuff, a fact that Farsight would use as fuel for future teasing.
Once their drive stopped feeling like a high-speed rollercoaster ride, Jackboot finally got to complain. “We’re you trying to get us killed or are you just this bad at driving?!”
“Please, that was an excellent example of chase scene driving.” Farsight was smirking through the rearview mirror. “Besides, I’m sure Malcolm Flint won’t mind that we damaged his new building.”
Sam, who was checking to see if Apex was still chasing after them on the rearview screen, raised an eyebrow at Farsight’s statement.
“How do you know the building belongs to Flint?” he asked.
“The Flint Consolidated logo was plastered on the front windows we crashed into,” Farsight explained.
“And why would Malcolm Flint be okay with us destroying his property?” Jackboot asked.
Sam was wondering the same thing. He knew his friend Crow-Man was connected to Flint Consolidated. But he wasn’t sure Crow-Man’s benefactor, a tech billionaire known to be cutthroat in the boardroom, was the kind of guy who’d be okay with them wrecking his stuff.
“Because he funded the development of the Argo VII,” Farsight revealed.
Sam looked just as surprised as Jackboot was by this revelation. Sure, they had proprietary Flint Consolidated tech wired throughout the Argo VII, but Sam just assumed this was just due to Crow-Man’s doing. He didn’t know how to feel about being funded by some rich guy whose agenda Sam knew nothing about.
Almost like she’d sensed his discomfort, Thunder’s hand squeezed Sam’s forearm.
“Don’t worry. I’ve worked with Mr. Flint before. He’s one of the good guys,” she promised.
“O-okay,” Sam relented. “If you and Crow-Man trust him then… I’m cool with it.”
Thunder flashed him a smile, the kind that made him all tingly inside.
“On the bright side, at least we’ve lost our tail,” she added.
Three pairs of eyes snapped to the rearview camera on the dashboard. Seconds drummed by but there continued to be no sign of Apex chasing after them. He was just gone.
“I reckon that Archimedes Mirror’s pulled off a hat trick for us,” Jackboot said, sounding relieved.
Sam wasn’t so convinced though. They’d escaped Apex before only to have him chase them down twice now.
“We need to get out of the city,” he asserted. “If a fight’s coming, I’d rather it’s somewhere with less collateral damage.”
“As opposed to the collateral damage we’ve already caused, you mean,” Jackboot reminded him.
“Quit complaining, Jack,” Farsight chided. “You’re part of a grand adventure now. You should enjoy it more.”
Jackboot had taken off his mask just in time to roll his eyes at the back of her head. “And where’s this grand adventure sending us off to now?”
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“The sunflower state,” Thunder answered. “We’re going to Kansas City…my hometown.”
Sam watched Thunder gaze pensively out the window. It didn’t look like she was happy with the idea of a homecoming. Although he didn’t ask her why. There were some things you wait for people to say out loud.
“Hey, you think your cousin will be there?” Sam asked. Partly out of curiosity but also because he wanted to get Thunder’s mind off whatever it was that made her feel blue.
Thunder shook her head. “Probably not. He’s based in D.C. these days.”
“Aw man, I was kind of hoping to meet him,” Sam admitted.
“I noticed that back at the gallery…you’re a real Superion fanboy, aren’t you?” she teased.
“Who isn’t,” Jackboot chimed in as he took the seat opposite Sam and Thunder. “Your cousin’s the reason I moved to the states.”
“Really?” Thunder raised an eyebrow at him. “Why?”
“Because he’s the hero we all aspire to be, isn’t he,” Jackboot answered. “A shining exemplar of good who shows up wherever he’s needed to do the job only he seems able to manage.”
“He’s hope incarnate,” Sam translated.
“Exactly,” Jackboot agreed.
“Alright, alright, I get it,” she sighed. “I’ll introduce you boys to my cousin if we ever run into him.”
Sam and Jackboot exchanged fist-bumps.
“We probably won’t see him at home,” Thunder reminded them, “but I’d love for you guys to meet my nana… She grills really tasty barbeque.”
“An authentic American barbeque…” Jackboot gave Thunder a thumbs up. “I can get with that plan. Don’t you agree, Sam?”
Sam had gone back to eyeing the rearview camera—which continued to show that nothing was chasing after them—so it took him a second to reply. “Yeah, I’m down for meeting nana.”
“Of course, you’d be,” Farsight chimed in from her cockpit. “But before Thunder’s reunion, I suggest we get to a charging station first. This baby’s running on fumes…”
“Alright,” Thunder answered. “The Argo VII’s batteries first…then barbeque.”
----------------------------------------
Much later, after the Argo VII had left the greater Chicago area in its rearview mirror, Thunder and Sam were busy tapping keywords into the computer. They hoped that the Flint Consolidated next-generation variable computing software could help them figure out the connections between Dwight D. Eisenhower and the Sunflower State apart from it being just the former war hero’s hometown. It didn’t take long for the computer to dole out several suggestions which all seemed like likely options until Thunder scrolled to the bottom of the list and decided that the final one was probably it.
“I’m sure of it,” she insisted.
“The Eisenhower Presidential Museum,” Jackboot recited.
“What’s so special about…” Sam, who’d been reading the information displayed, raised an eyebrow at the computer’s main screen. “Wait…he’s buried there?”
“Isn’t that a little—”
Sam had turned to look at Thunder and noticed the anxiety in her expression.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I hoped we’d get a different answer,” Thunder admitted. “But I should have known better. Our luck sucks, doesn’t it?”
“Hold on…you think going to a museum is bad luck?” Jackboot asked.
A memory flashed across Sam’s mind; one where he’d been nearly killed fighting off a giant’s shadow while inside one of New York City’s most famous museums.
“Um, yeah, Jack” he sighed. “A visit to a museum can get real crazy real fast…”
While the boys discussed Sam’s harrowing encounter at the Met, Thunder moved over to the window to the rear of the compartment. She wrapped her arms around her shoulders like she’d caught a chill, and it would be a while before she’d speak up again. Right around the same time that Jackboot was expressing his disbelief at Sam’s first encounter with the Trickster.
“Guys…there’s something I need to tell you,” she began.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“The Eisenhower Museum…something bad happened there a few years ago…bad enough that the Wardens had to shut the museum down permanently,” she revealed.
“Why would they—”
But Sam already knew the answer. There was only one reason the Wardens would close a public space to the civilian population: if the place in question had become infested with horrors—a haunted zone.
“I was there when it happened,” Thunder answered almost like she could read his mind. “We were on a class field trip back in high school. And one of my classmates, this kid named Rick…”
As he listened to her speak, Sam realized that Thunder was doing something most heroes avoided. She was sharing part of her origin story with them.
“…Rick had been bullied a lot…but everyone gets bullied in high school, right?” Thunder framed her question almost like she was making an excuse for something she’d done or hadn’t done. “But…I think he’d had enough… He brought a gun to the field trip, and…”
Thunder couldn’t finish her story, and it was obvious from how anguished she looked that its memory caused her pain. She didn’t have to finish it though. Because Sam had heard about this particular tragedy before. It was five years ago, and like all stories related to gun violence, this was big news. As he recalled it, a high school student had shot a bunch of his classmates and teachers on a class field trip right before awakening into a powerful horror of pure rage.
It might have been years ago, but Sam knew better than most how a traumatizing experience still affected the survivors of such tragedies years later. Even someone as powerful as Thunder who must have been just a scared fifteen-year-old girl back then. One who was powerless to stop the violence from happening right in front of her.
With the way Thunder’s lower lip quivered, and how her eyes seemed suddenly glued to the floor, Sam guessed that Thunder’s trauma still ate at her. Just like his trauma of being useless in the past still whispered doubts to his mind now and then.
He moved over to where she stood by the window. Then he wrapped a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
Something bright blazed to life from beyond the window, drawing Sam’s eyes to it just in time to watch the giant beast with two silver antlers ram into them with the force of a wrecking ball.