Chapter 13: Eve’s Atomic Nightmare

When I got the suit, I didn't rush headlong into the hustle and bustle of the superhero wilderness, as Wil had expected me to do. He hadn't seen my costume at all yet, though, and given its design, it wasn't certain that he would recognize me even if he saw it on TV.

But soon something happened that made me put on my new red tights under my clothes and put the mask in my pocket and sneak out of the house to go to the next town.

It was all due to a report on the local news channel about a terrorist attack at the mall. It was a very special case.

First of all, the terrorists, who had taken the staff and visitors of the building hostage, demanded not money, not a helicopter and a free air route to Mexico, and not even twenty pizzas, but that a very specific super, whose description they gave to the police and the press, fly in to them. And in that description - red hair, pink suit and skirt, five feet tall - you could recognize the superheroine who had recently made herself known while apprehending the dangerous cyborg villain known as KillCannon. And this heroine, as it's not hard to guess, was Atomic Eve, my classmate in history class, a good friend in my former life and a member of the as yet unformed teenage superhero team. The arrest of KillCannon wasn't exactly a high-profile case, though, so reporters couldn't yet figure out exactly who the perpetrators were after, instead listing various hero girls with a penchant for pink that might fit that description... there were surprisingly many.

Secondly, Eve once mentioned that she had "dealt with her past" even before she met Rex and joined the team, but she never gave any details, limiting herself to saying that it was the worst day of her life.

And thirdly, thanks to the temporary incapacitation of most of the Guardians of the Globe, my father is still in high demand. And this day is no exception, on the contrary, today he faces a long and exhausting battle with one of Earth's most significant internal threats. And internal not only in the sense of belonging to the planet, but also in the sense that these guys live literally in magma.

And he'll be there all day, warming his Wiltrumite bones in the arms of magmawarriors, which means that I have some leeway... until my mother finds out where her son is again. I can't wait to move out of my parents' house: while I had no abilities and some adult needs, living in my parents' house was like a fully-supported resort, but now it's a real headache.

When I, in the guise of an ordinary onlooker, of which there were many, arrived at the scene, it was discovered that Eve and I had already been overtaken by Black Samson. But he was in no hurry to start solving the problem and just stood there with the cops, wondering whom exactly the criminals were demanding to hand over to them. If something like this had happened a couple of years ago, and Samson, I have little doubt about it, would have tried to do something himself: after all, he didn't get a place in the Guardians through a racial quota. But the current Samson is but a pale shadow of his former self. And to anyone who has followed his career even closely, that's pretty obvious. He hasn't been in a serious fight in six months -- since he almost died in one -- and only shows up at the kind of minor incidents where he can still do something and remind fans of his existence. Whatever the nature of Samson's powers - they leave him.

Five minutes of stomping by the police and sluggish attempts to negotiate with the invaders later, the hero of the occasion herself appeared on the horizon. She spiked behind the cops and Samson, filled her chest with determination, and, looking as brave as if she'd done it a hundred times before, asked the officer what the deal was.

In the course of a short conversation it suddenly became clear that the new arrivals fit the description of criminals perfectly, and Eve immediately announced that she would take care of it. Samson pretended that everything was all right, and only the officer showed a touch of concern, suspecting that the masked hero was too young, but Eve defiantly dismissed his complicity, saying that everything was perfectly all right and she was a big hero.

And...decided to just go along with the enemy and walk into the trap set alone, having no idea what awaited her there...with that attitude, no wonder this day was a nightmare for her in a past life.

Seriously, Eve. There are threats on this planet that even I - a larva of a cosmic superbeing - manage to get mixed in the dirt, but what are you doing? One lucky bullet is enough for you, isn't it?

I pulled the mask over my eyes, but I didn't take off my outerwear just yet-I didn't want the first appearance of my fake superhero persona to be so close to home. But I still need to keep an eye on Eve. Yes, she survived that fight in that world, but it's not like Hail Mary wiped the floor with the Guardians either, so I'm not sure about anything anymore and... I'm worried about her... whatever might happen. She's still a loner now, and she's not going to get any help from the Robot Squad or even the jerk Rex - she just doesn't know them yet, and there's no hope for Samoson, either.

She also went through the main entrance, not even thinking to hide her presence or at least to prepare for a surprise attack. I, on the other hand, took advantage of the lack of aerial surveillance of the building and got inside through a huge hole in the roof of the supermarket, which, apparently, was left by the criminals themselves.

And immediately I saw the very instigators of the commotion-thanks to my super-speed, almost equal to invisibility when it came to creatures with normal perception-there were only five of them, and they were very strange fellows.

First of all, they were all obviously children, and the youngest looked about ten years old.

Second, they all had serious physical deformities. And the younger the child, the more significant were his health problems.

And considering that they all wore the same clothes - tight-fitting, swimsuit-like shorts plus tops for the girls - and each had a number on his belt, from two to six, I immediately became suspicious of the origin of the fives. The oldest, the two, a blond teenager, maybe a year younger than me or something, was the most normal-looking, a little harelip and a weird bang covering his eyes didn't count. But the rest...

The red-haired girl next in line had a significant bone defect in her skull, and either a cracked bone or a scar from a lobotomy on her forehead with a bald spot around it that stretched all the way to the top of her head.

"Four" - the boy-had no more body hair at all, and all the skin was bright red, as if burned, plus, again, a distorted face.

"Five" - was a girl again-but you could only guess that from the top, because her face was disfigured by a hump going from her forehead to her nose and down to her left cheek. A few pathetic wisps of blond hair dangled from the back of her head.

"Six" - I would otherwise have mistaken for an inhuman life-form. He was entirely lilac in color, and only his ribs and veins showed through the translucent skin with blue. But his hair was more or less normal, though it was completely gray.

The mere appearance of these guys would be enough to spoil the psyche of anyone over-impressed, especially when you consider what their lives had been like.

"So the reports were true-you're alive!" The older boy spoke, turning to Eve. "If you behave yourself, you'll stay that way from now on."

"I'm sorry," Eve answered, confused by the look of the children and the tone of the speaker, stammering. "Do I... do I know you?"

"I've spent most of my life in a tube (a flask with a life-sustaining nutrient solution)." The Two began to tell the story, walking toward Eve. "After you "died," they decided they needed to try again to move on, to believe in the future."

He came almost close to the girl and reached out his hand, as if he wanted to make sure she was real, while he continued his story.

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"When I was born, they tried to teach me how to be as good as..." At this point, when he was about to touch Eve, frightened, she recoiled and created a protective wall of condensed air that cut the guy's hand off cleanly.

That wasn't very nice... he hadn't done anything to you yet!

But the pain and loss of a limb didn't faze the Two-not even a bleed from the stump-and he continued where he'd left off a second before:

"To someone like you-the daughter who was perfect in their imagination."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Eve panicked, staring at the effects of her powers. But he didn't need her apology; he calmly picked up the brush from the floor and continued his accusatory speech:

"I tried again and again to live up to their perfect idea of you, but failed time after time, and they...returned me to the fucking tube!" Toward the end, he had already dropped the game of calm and cool and turned to shouting. "To them you had no flaws because they never even knew you! How could I possibly fit in!"

Toward the end he put his hand to the stump and it immediately grew back. But it wasn't regeneration at all, I think he himself directly controls the molecules and atoms of his body, rearranging them as he sees fit - which confirms what he said, because it's the same ability that Eve herself has. It's true that she's always said that she can't control living flesh, but "Two" obviously has no such limitations.

"And now it turns out that you've been alive all this time. And you're just as beautiful as they say you are!" He's already completely turned on himself and went into a rage, trying to strike Eve, with his grafted back hand. "And I hate you for it!"

Such an undertaking, for Eve had already made her abilities automatic, and of course she put up a wall of condensed air between herself and her attacker again, which he cracked his arm on, this time almost into mincemeat.

"We all hate," he added, glancing back at the retreating Eve. "The little ones probably hate you even more than I do. But they can't say as many words to you, because unlike me, they've never left the tube long enough to learn to talk."

And so they rushed at Eve again, this time with the whole crowd, but only to cripple themselves against the dense protective dome the girl had erected. Mostly they transformed their own bodies, building muscle, turning their arms into maces, sledgehammers, or blades. The smallest one transformed into a cloud of lilac smoke, but only to move close to the dome, and then he was himself again, exhaling a beam of condensed lilac air into Eve's dome-and of all the things they demonstrated, it was the closest thing to what Eve herself was doing.

What should I do? The situation was not so simple. The kids are wrong, of course, to blame all the troubles on Eve, because she didn't choose to be born a perfect superweapon and be saved by her creator. If anyone is to blame for their mutilated existence and horrible fate, it's him, and those jerks who tried to continue the project, losing the leading scientist and all the results of his labors... speaking of scientists...

"How did you get in here?" I caught a gray-bearded old man in a snow-white lab coat, who was sneaking through the rubble to meet the hostages hurrying to get away from the scene of the superfamily's strife, of whom everyone had safely forgotten since the appearance of Eve. "Tired of living?"

"Let me go!" Started desperately wrenching suddenly perky old man, when I lifted him above the floor, holding him by the collar of his clothes. "I must help her!"

"How are you going to help Samantha? Become a hostage in the hands of her adversaries?"

"I..." He wanted to object, but apparently realized the counterproductive nature of his actions-as a scientist, after all, he must be able to use his brain. "I'll think of something. Wait, do you know her name? Do you know her secret identity? Who are you anyway?"

"Too many questions at once...but yes, I'm super, and I know Eve."

"Then you have to help her! I can't do it, but you can... they're about to break through the barrier!"

All the while, Eva's creepy super-brothers and super-sisters kept pounding on her dome, and their efforts finally began to bear fruit-the walls cracked.

"Calm down, Grandpa, she's not there anymore." And confirming my words, Eve jumped out of the tunnel under the floor, which she had made with her own strength.

Then she hurried to hide from the attackers behind the wall next to us and... began to pray.

"Dear God," she folded her hands in a begging gesture toward the ceiling, unaware of us standing on the other side of the opening that sheltered her. "I've been a good girl this year. Please replace those scary babies with five little KillCannons and I'll never ask for anything else for the rest of my life!"

"Eve!" While I was coming up with a witty joke, an old man got Samantha's attention. Asshole, you ruined the moment-it was a first impression, I had a chance to show myself in the best light!

"Doc?" Under the gaze of a shocked Eve, I set her maker on the floor. "What about you?" She shifted her perplexed gaze to me.

Think, Mark, think, an urgent need for a witty joke, all is not yet lost!

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