The Machinist Part One: Malevolence by Alexander Maisey

Author:Alexander Maisey [Maisey, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781482015850
Google: o1y7nAEACAAJ
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
Published: 2013-05-08T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

PKOW!

An orange bolt of energy slammed against Rampart’s chest, singeing his armor. Unperturbed, the invulnerable flying juggernaut slammed his fists through the ribcage of the villain who had launched the attack. Blood, bone shrapnel, and chunks of lung splattered on the pavement below. Rampart sped a few blocks north through the air.

High above the city’s skyline, the beautiful Italian superwoman called Stormsoul raised her arms as bullets and bolts of power tore through her costume’s left shoulder and right legging--but ricocheted impotently off of her body. Dark clouds swirled above her and exploded into a staccato lightshow of electricity. Arcs struck the numerous flying meta-villains weaving around her.

She smiled and shouted in her native Italian. “Tu è piaciuta?”

The charred bodies of her attackers plummeted from the sky.

A tall hero in the armor of a medieval knight seemed unaware of the gore raining down on him from above. He slashed his broadsword through the waists of a handful of Network soldiers. They screamed as their intestines slipped out and sloshed around, each of them kneeling in agony and clutching their guts. He decapitated all three opponents with another swipe of his weapon.

Down the block, a Network captain shouted, “Switch to armor-piercing!”

Magazines clicked into machine guns in the hands of the enemy soldiers. The troopers took aim and pulled the triggers of their weapons. The knight collapsed in a hail of bullets and blood streaked out of the holes in his plate mail armor. He gasped, “Grail… Arthur… save m--”

A purple and yellow streak flashed by, simultaneously disarming the soldiers and carrying the knight away. White lilies sprouted where the warrior’s blood had fallen on the blacktop.

Rampart hovered in the air overhead, and let loose a series of energy blasts from his fists at the now-unarmed crowd of Network troops. They scattered and retreated. He reached down to his belt and tapped the Titans of Liberty logo on its buckle. It buzzed, activating a communication channel.

“Sprint,” the leader of the heroes stated. “What’s the story with that B-Lister?”

“Thisknightguy? Ithinkheshealing—shitholdon.” There was the sound of an explosion. “Droppinghimathospitalanywayberightback.”

“All right. Round up the walking wounded assholes, too.” Rampart fired a bolt of energy at an enemy flier, but missed. Another voice crackled over the communication channel. It was Night Owl.

“What? There’s just too many, man—we got sanctioned anyway—Hawke said--”

“I know that, but this is just too insane,” the leader of the Titans of Liberty sighed. This team, the best of the best that the world’s superheroes had to offer--had fought against seemingly impossible odds before, always rallying from near-defeat time and time again. But what they faced today was like nothing any of them had ever seen before. “Wrap it up and converge on the Square, people.”

Bullets bounced off of Rampart’s legs, breaking his reverie. He spun in the air, and descended to the source of the shots faster than the human eye could follow.

***

McHenry knew his time was limited. The protocol he had found merely delayed the trophy room’s detonation; he needed

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