Off The Pages

“We’ve only got a few days left,” Jericho said, going over the events in his mind. Edward had finished being healed, and everyone’s equipment had been repaired or replaced. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

Jennifer took a drink of diet cola. “There’s…” Her words trailed off as she tried to put it into perspective. “There’s just so many of them. Everywhere we go, we find a few people wanting to oppose the false messiah, but…it’s like counting the stars. There’s so many who just willingly obey this monster.”

Annie ate a sandwich. She washed it down with some soda. “I tell you what,” she agreed. “The bigger question is, let’s say we win. How do we handle the fact that a good percentage of the human race smiled and cheered when a monster said he wanted them to kill their fellow man?”

“I’ll tell you how,” Edward chimed in, standing up and approaching the group. “We try those who committed actual crimes, and those who helped, and we never stop reminding those that cheered and hollered and carried signs that they were the bad guys.” His fists were clenched. “We never stop reminding them that they were never true Christians.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s the best option,” John cut in.

Luther stepped in, grabbed a drink, and chugged it before plopping into the couch. His brother approached. “Luther!” he cried. “Are you okay?”

The younger brother wiped his brow. “While you guys have been fighting,” he said, “I’ve been using my power on some of the enemies that were captured.”

Jennifer perked up. “Really?” she inquired. “What happened?”

He sighed. “We got a few who were willing to go to atone for their crimes,” he lamented, “but none were willing to admit the fake Jesus wasn’t their savior. Apparently, he’d made a habit of showing everyone who agrees to serve him some vision of his perfect kingdom on Earth.”

“And?” Edward chimed in.

Luther scoffed. “Anybody here ever read The Euphio Question by Vonnegut?” Jennifer and Jericho raised their hands at his question. “Well, long story short, there’s an easy way to make people happy all the time regardless of what is happening around them.” He gestured outward. “Basically, that.”

“So,” Jennifer said, “everyone’s just happy all the time and that’s his solution.”

Luther shrugged. “Yup,” he agreed. “There was some emotional fuckery in the vision itself, but if you look at it objectively, he just heals everyone, makes it so no one has to be hungry or thirsty, and then just everyone is happy all the time. There’s no goals, no effort, no future.”

“Still,” Annie chimed in, “I can see why some people would fight for that.”

“Oh, I know that,” Luther argued, “it’s just something I wouldn’t want.”

“So,” Jericho cut in, “we’ve got just three days left.” He turned to Jennifer. “Will we just keep doing more of the same?”

Jennifer pondered. “I want you guys to decide this one,” she said.

Annie folded her arms. “We spend the next two days,” she offered, “saving as many lives as possible. Then, we rest for the third day, and then go into battle.”

“Most of the big boys are either gone or already waiting,” Edward added. “I’m with Annie on this one.”

John turned to Raymond. “How about we bring out the robots?” he asked. “That way, we’re not just hanging around here all the time.”

Jennifer nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me,” she replied.

Jericho turned to his brother. “Want to go fight on the front lines?” he asked.

Luther grinned. “I’ve never been more ready,” he said.

In Africa, a group of at least fifty men and women screamed in horror as they stared death in the face. A group of cultists loyal to Jack Hurst and his false messiah rounded up anyone who they suspected of being disloyal. Those who refused to join were to be gathered up like firewood and burned, just as the text had said. Six pyrokinetic supers stood on the platform, waiting as the ritual was being performed by the minister. “As the hour of our Lord is at hand,” the man said, “the servants of the enemy must be sacrificed.” Seven muscled brutes stood watch, waiting for any sign of trouble.

The sound of a sonic boom rattled the area. Wooden buildings jostled and everyone turned to the sound. Before they could see anything, a red streak impacted the ground like a meteor, sending quakes through the ground for hundreds of yards. Men fell to their backs, guns dropped out of hands, and cultists struggled to get to their feet. A figure erupted from the ground, spearing a Jeep like a dart, punching through, and using the two halves to decimate nearby tanks. In the clamor, they saw it was a woman. Standing in futuristic looking armor, the muscled statue of a woman lifted a tank like it was a beach ball and chucked it. It crashed into a group of enemy brutes and smashed one through several trees.

“Bitch!” someone shouted.

The woman started sprinting, her heavy footsteps shaking the ground. As she careened towards the enemies, artillery shots from fifty caliber machine guns pelted her like spitballs, and tank shells bounced off her like a man playing dodgeball with children. Two brutes dashed, driving their shoulders into her. She dug her feet in, tearing a ditch. Her hands grabbed their heads and smashed them together until she heard a crack and a splattering noise. Then their corpses became projectiles that took out nearby Jeeps.

Fireballs began to pelt her. She jumped and crashed into and through the stage, taking several pyrokinetic supers with her on the way down. Mashing sounds were heard followed by bodies sailing in all directions. Two got close and swiped fire across her helmet. She kicked one almost in half, and smashed a fist into the last one, bending him into a tight ‘U’ shape. His body launched into a truck with enough force to flip the vehicle.

“Anyone else!” she shouted.

She ripped the shackles and ropes off the victims. She pointed them in the direction of the nearest rebel group and took to the sky again. Her battle sense pointed her in the direction of a village a few dozen miles away.

“The Lord has given us a great purpose!” a terrorist leader shouted.

A boot planted itself in his back, throwing him into the dirt. Bullets began hitting her like annoying mosquitos. As he stood up, he saw her, and his face lit up. “You!” he shouted. “You’re one of the generals of the Devil! Now you will taste the power the Lord himself has tasked me with!”

He delivered a straight punch to her chest, throwing her backward and crashing through a stone building, collapsing it. She propelled her way out of the rubble and bashed into him, plowing him through a series of vehicles. “I’m the Goddess of Strength,” Annie said, playing up her character. “I’m not some servant.”

He erupted from the wreckage and swung with all his might. She dodged and elbowed him in the head. She saw him reeling back for another mighty blow and planted her feet firmly. He planted his fist in her abdomen with all he could muster. Air burst around her like a hurricane, blowing away loose dirt. This time, though, she’d prepared herself. She didn’t budge. “Hey! Not half bad!” she cried. Then she threw a kick upwards, catching him on the chin, mid-stupid look.

At the peak of his flight, she arrived above him and drove an axe-handle smash into his upper back. He hit the dirt and left a thirty-foot-wide crater. She landed.

Men dropped their rifles and ran. She let the feeling of guilt pass over her. Taking lives hurt her, it cut her deep. She wasn’t about to give up. Once Jack Hurst and his monster were gone, she could go back to pacifism.

Her battle sense showed her that people were in danger nearby. She grit her teeth and took to the sky.

Jennifer rounded up another group of zealots trying to deliver ‘judgment’ to the innocent. After agents came through a portal and collected them, she sensed a bigger attack occurring upstate. Landing in north Texas, she found a high school gymnasium that had been turned into a concentration camp. Supers with all manner of powers patrolled the area as innocent people were brought by the truckload and emptied into the building.

She landed in front of the truck. Tires screeched as the vehicle stopped. Ice projectiles shattered against her back. She stuck out her hand in the direction of the attack and ball lightning shot out and exploded the ground in front of the attackers, throwing them backward. The driver and his copilot stepped out and began trading blows with her. She let them hit her a few times for effect. A steel-coated super smashed his fist against her face, to little effect. Grabbing their necks, she smashed their heads against the truck, and they went limp. She dropped the groaning men to the ground, zapping their nervous systems into seizures.

Ten more supers rushed her as a group. She dashed forward and knocked each one out with a single blow. Her electric touch laid them out. A moment later, her allies retrieved the zealots. A quick rip took the door off the gym, and inside, gunmen turned only to see a blur remove them from the building. “It’s alright now,” she cried. “You’re free.”

“Oh, thank you!” a woman cried hugging her. “We were so scared!”

“My friends will give you a hand,” she said, gesturing outside where agents were waiting.

“It’s horrible!” the woman shouted. “That monster is not Jesus!”

“I know,” Jennifer agreed. “I have to go; there’s more people to save.”

She flew high above. From the vantage point, she saw a young man in battle with a crowd of zealot supers. He created light constructs and traded blows with an eight-foot-tall beast of a man pounding away at his energy barrier. Two brutes attempted to rush the young man, when Jennifer plowed into them like a cannon shot. Large construction girders smashed into his barrier, courtesy of magnetic manipulators, and Jennifer threw a brute into each of them, knocking them into piles of debris. A teleporter appeared in front of the young man and hit him with an elbow smash to the face, then teleported out. He appeared in front of Jennifer, who caught him immediately and zapped him.

“Thank…you…for rescuing…me,” he said, struggling for his breath. His eyes went wide. “Holy crap! You’re the Capacitor!”

“Don’t thank me,” she said. “I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

“Can I help?”

At his question, she stopped, and turned back. “It’s your choice,” she replied. “I can’t guarantee our survival, much less our victory.”

His expression drew somber. “I don’t want to leave this world to nutjobs,” he stated.

“What’s your name?”

“Andrew Javier,” he replied.

“Come with me,” she said. She signaled for a portal, and they stepped through.

Luther approached. He regarded the young man. “What do we have here?” he asked.

“Another ally,” she told him. She turned to Andrew. “Go with him, he’ll get you set up.” She returned to the outside and went back to scanning the surroundings for events to respond to. There was no shortage.

John and Raymond communicated with each other from the pilot’s seat of their robots. An army of drones followed around each one. Raymond had responded to the incidents in Russia, taking down entire armies of cultists with drones, each equipped with weapons straight out of science fiction. Jericho had assisted with construction where available, using telekinesis and magnetic manipulation powers he’d acquired to construct nanites, and they had used teleportation to scour the asteroid belt for materials. Together, the two scientists had built robots surprisingly resilient against magnetic attacks, and their ability to move quickly even with enormous size had proven enormously beneficial.

John drove his fist into a giant super, whose growing ability had worked against him. A punch assisted by rockets and lots of electricity dropped the big lug. His drones waited for the guy to pass out and shrink down to normal, before picking the man up and carting him off through a portal.

“Ray!” he called, “how’s Russia?”

“I think I’ve just about put an end to concentrated areas of zealot activity,” he told John. “There’s small activity here and there, but right now, it’s just individuals here and there.” He paused. “How’s South America?”

“A pain in the ass,” John replied. “For some reason, a lot of the giant growing supers are down here, and I’ve had to tango with about ten of them so far. It’s a bitch.” The ground rumbled. “Gimme a minute.”

His visual sensors indicated a thirty-foot-tall man dashed towards him, pushing trees aside like brush. He braced himself, and the man delivered a punch that sent the robot into the air. At the height of his flight, he activated downward thrusters and zoomed ahead of an uppercut, smashing a kick into the giant’s face. The giant stumbled as the robot landed, then he delivered to the brute a one-two combo. The gut punch bent the giant over, and then John drove a fierce uppercut into the man’s forehead. The brute’s head snapped back as he launched into the air and crashed through several trees before falling limp and shrinking down.

“Like I said,” John added. “It’s a bitch.” His drones flew high up and scanned the surroundings. “Yeah, it looks like big groups of zealots are basically gone. The rest are hiding or doing it in secret.”

“We’ve been going at this for nineteen hours,” Raymond called. “You want to call it a day?”

John nodded. “Good a time as any,” he replied.

Two large portals opened, and each brought their tech back to base.

After leaving their equipment in the large hangar, they strolled across the grass to the main building where they gathered. Dozens of large buildings surrounded the main one, each containing the thousands of people they had rescued and helped. Jennifer sat at the dinner table. Settings had been laid out for each person.

“No one’s in the mood to cook,” Annie said, gesturing at the buffet table set out behind them, with stations containing each type of food. “So, we went out and got whatever was still open.”

Jericho took his dinner plate and travelled to each station. “Nice set,” he said, opening the metal lid of one serving station. “It’s the best we could hope for, I suppose.” He placed two fast food burgers on his plate, then closed the lid, before going to the next station, and grabbing some fried chicken and setting it next to it. At a third station, he grabbed some Waffle House hash browns. He set it on the table and took his drink glass and served himself from a shake machine pilfered from a ruined fast food joint.

He sat down to eat. Jennifer chuckled. “That’s not good for you,” she quipped.

He shrugged. “Eat like you’re going to the chair,” he advised. “Why the hell not?”

Despite the macabre humor, everyone laughed to some degree. “Yeah,” Edward agreed, tucking into some fried fish. “Help yourself. We’ve got a little bit of everything. If we live past the battle not fifty hours from now, we can worry about our diets.”

“Is that Captain D’s or Long John Silver’s?” John asked, grabbing his glass and pouring some lemonade from a soda fountain.

“The sign was burnt off,” Edward replied. “I didn’t get a good look.”

The rest filled their plates with a veritable mountain of fast food. Each one took Jericho’s dietary advice. After each had put themselves nearly into a food coma, and consumed gallons of fountain soda and milkshake, they sat and pondered the twists and turns that the situation had taken them on.

“God, this is frustrating,” Annie lamented. “Time is the worst part.”

“No shit,” Edward agreed. “I think we’ve about stopped every major group going around. All that’s left are scattered groups of nutjobs. They’re too scared to gather together in large groups, or we show up to stop them.”

“Pardon me if this sounds messed up,” Luther said, picking under his fingernails, “but I need some sleep.”

“No,” Jericho agreed, “that’s not messed up. I think we all need some sleep.”

“So,” John asked, “why do you think this fake Jesus is so serious about being ‘proper’ with how he defeats us? Couldn’t he just kill us and spin it?”

“It’s that bullshit ‘decorum,’” Jennifer explained. “If he defeats us with the world watching, that’s less work afterward on his part.”

“Makes sense,” Raymond agreed. “Hey, before any of us goes to sleep, how about we make a statement?”

Edward turned his head. “You mean,” he offered, “like our manifesto?”

“No,” Raymond advised, “just that we say our side of the story.”

“That’s a fantastic idea,” Jericho cut in. “I nominate Jennifer.”

Jennifer looked over, confusion on her face. “Why me, specifically?” she asked.

“Because you were the first to go out and be seen saving lives,” Annie replied. “You took initiative when everyone else was too worried to do anything.”

Jennifer laughed. “Me?” she argued. “I’m not brave. I’m almost indestructible. Hell, I only felt brave enough to do this because I knew after a while that the threats couldn’t hurt me. Anyone who couldn’t get hurt would save people from a fire or stop a mass shooting.”

“You were willing to die against Jack Hurst and his monster,” Annie pointed out. “Jericho, too.”

“Die?” Jennifer scoffed. “But I’m still…here…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes went wide with realization. Sure, the power had saved her, but a version of her had perished in New York City against the fake Jesus. “I died against him.”

“We both did,” Jericho replied. “Neither of us really knew how it worked, so we both went in with no assurances.”

“Even if it was the same consciousness that went back,” Raymond said, “neither of you will ever be sure. So, I vote to say that yes, you are brave.”

Jennifer wiped her face. “Alright,” she conceded. “Get it prepared.”

John nodded. “Be glad to,” he said, getting up and heading over to the lab.”

A signal emanated from an undetectable source. It got picked up by every television in the world. Embedded in the signal were subtitles that automatically adjusted for each region. Every news agency on the planet began recording it at once. Jennifer and her immediate allies stood in the frame, in a large room. She stood in front of the rest. She paused for a long moment, took in a deep breath, and let it out.

“Hello, people of the world,” she began. She clasped her hands together in front of her abdomen. “I’m not going to go on some long rant about good and evil. I just need to get the basic points across. This will not take long.” Closing her eyes, she went over every point with a fine-tooth comb. A moment later, she faced the camera again. “I was like many of you in that when superpowers became real, I thought I was going nuts. This wasn’t a comic book, I knew, this is real life. Not long after, evidence started pouring in that made me realize I wasn’t losing my mind.” She paused to catch her breath. “Then, I immediately thought about the impact of what I’d been given. This was an impossible dream; all my life, I’d fantasized about being able to save lives the way the characters I loved when I was a child did in their stories.”

She turned to face her allies and friends for just a moment. “My friends and I have been on an incredible, wonderful, and convoluted adventure. We’ve done more in these past months than the entire rest of our lives combined. We’re never going to be able to get over how amazing this whole thing is.” Her expression darkened as she faced forward. “When I first got powers, one thing I feared the most was some nutjob getting incredible powers and bringing about great evil.” She sighed. “That fear has come to pass. A horrific evil has come to try and extend his rule to the entire world. I’m speaking, of course, about the false prophet Jack Hurst and his false messiah, this monster masquerading as the Lord and Savior of Christianity.”

She paused for effect. “I’m not here to tell you how or what to believe. I am here to tell you that, regardless of your beliefs, this is not the savior of humanity, nor can this monster be the savior of anyone. My parents were religious, and even though I am not a believer, I never forgot what they taught me. They taught me that Jesus was a Lord of compassion, of justice, and of love. This monster commits genocide. This creature uses the threat of death to compel nations to bow to his feet. Most importantly, and I cannot stress this enough, this monster is the creation of a mortal man wielding a superpower.”

Jericho approached the camera. “I met the man, Jack Hurst,” he explained. “I discovered this fake Jesus appeared not to the world, not to prominent religious figures, but to him. He appeared to one man in his living room.” He gestured disapprovingly. “How can you trust this when he blatantly demonstrates the lack of basic characteristics needed to be the savior?”

“If you understand,” Jennifer cut in, “that this man and his summoned monster cannot save us, cannot save anyone, then you must not aid him. If you see this abuse of religious faith for what it is—a tool of monstrous control and manipulation—then you must not support this. Now, we aren’t going to ask you to follow us to your possible death in combat, but we must ask you to do whatever you can to oppose this creature.”

“For the sake of the future of civilization,” Jericho said, “we will fight. If need be, we will die. Just remember, this monster has promised you an eternal kingdom of happiness. He cannot bring such a thing about. He is not the Son of God, he is not the Son of Man, he is a creature of powers. Jack Hurst may have lied to himself, but we will not.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer concluded. As the camera cut out, Jennifer wiped her eyes. “Guys, if I die, I…”

“No,” Ed cut in, “don’t talk like that. I’m not going to hear it.”

Jericho put a hand on her shoulder. “We win together,” he said.

“We win together,” she agreed.