Off The Pages

The air screamed as fighter jets flew overhead. Troops from every first world nation formed a human wall around the pathway. A fleet of tanks and Humvees traveled in a protective formation around an armored semi-truck carrying history’s greatest criminal. Jericho and Annie sat in the vehicle, in between the shackled preacher. The collar still glowed red, indicating death could come at any instant. No expense had been spared in securing the prisoner.

Jack sat motionless, his face beet red and soaked from his own tears. He had spent the past few days piecing together the chain of horror that had played out. Ever since he was a child, all he had dreamed about was serving Jesus, and hoping to see, as the song said, the glory of the coming of the Lord. Nothing, he imagined, could be better than that. Yet, he found himself alone with a tropical storm of memories in his mind. They told the cold, hard truth: that he’d become what he feared and hated the most.

I was no better than anyone after all, he thought. As hundreds of millions were ash, all because of a monster he brought into the world, the true horror had come to haunt him. He had been in control the whole time, even if he somehow gaslit himself into believing otherwise. Sure, the thing that called itself Jesus had its own will and consciousness, but he could have asserted control over it at any point. The true irony bit him like the nastiest hornet: under a different set of circumstances, he could have been quite the hero. Had he not gotten lost in what he wanted to believe was true, he might have been good allies to the people that took him down.

Jericho sat, intently focused on this man. He would not waver, should any problem arise. Still, the mad reverend resembled a deflated balloon emotionally speaking. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, seeing his guard down, and read his memories in greater detail. This man was a true believer and had a tremendous attachment to Jesus. Jericho had never felt quite as attached to anything as this man to his Lord. What struck him as both sad and scary at the same time was, any number of people could have been Jack Hurst, given the right circumstances.

The semi rumbled to a stop. Soldiers opened the rear door, and an armored inner chamber opened next. Jack and his captors stepped outside the vehicle, snipers from helicopters and nearby buildings training their sights on the reverend. Armed soldiers readied their weapons as the man stalked forward, head down, towards the building. Jennifer hovered overhead, senses trained on any possible interference. Friendly supers kept reconnaissance for miles around. The lack of suicide bombers and martyrs surprised everyone, not the least of which was the media. The news cameras filmed the event in maximum resolution.

As the group led the man into the marble and granite building, delegates from every nation watched intently from the hallways and offices. People couldn’t help but stare. It had been more than a week since the final battle, and Jack had been kept in a holding cell in an abandoned mine more than a mile deep. The heroes that defeated him hadn’t taken any time off, sleeping in shifts to ensure no one kept the greatest criminal out of their sights.

Jennifer approached, walking lockstep with the group. After a quarter mile of hallway, the armed men stepped ahead and opened the large oak doors to the courtroom. An army of journalists, news crews, and other court officials paused and went silent at the sight. The heroes took a seat in the front audience row. The bailiffs motioned Jack to the defendant’s booth. The rest of the audience rows were kept empty on purpose. His attorney stepped up and took a seat next to him.

“All rise!”

The main officer’s command brought everyone to their feet. The judge, a silver beard adorning his face, stepped in from a side door and took his position. He regarded the man in shackles and a collar with the same stern expression he gave to countless criminals he’d tried over the years.

The judge cleared his throat. “You may be seated,” he commanded. Everyone sat. He took a deep breath and regarded the paperwork in front of him. “Jackson Emile Hurst, you have been charged with crimes against humanity, mass murder, terrorism, acts of sedition, and acts of war.” He waited for the official recordkeeper to type this information. Journalists filmed or wrote in their notepads. “You have been accused, let me be frank, of more violence against the innocent than any person ever to see a courtroom. How do you plead?”

The reverend took in his surroundings. He saw journalists and their news crews talking. This would doubtlessly become the greatest show in history. The most important trial ever conducted would immortalize him forever in infamy. There would be weeks, maybe months, of witnesses and other major events. At the end, he would give his final statement, and whatever words he spoke would be the greatest sermon of his life. News media could not have asked for a more perfect opportunity. The money made off him would no doubt be in the billions.

A Cheshire smile appeared on his face.

“Guilty.”

Everyone started as if tased. The judge looked dumbstruck. One newsman swore in frustration as his colleagues looked on in disbelief. This was the worst possible outcome for them. “Order!” the judge bellowed, slamming his gavel. The room went silent. “Well, sir,” he began, “in that case we shall reconvene in five days’ time to conduct a sentencing hearing.”

“NO!”

Everyone jerked at the shout by Jack, coinciding with his fist hitting the table. “Excuse me, Mister Hurst?” the judge replied, danger sounding in his voice.

“Sentence me now,” Jack demanded. “No more show, no more speeches, no more display. I don’t want these vultures making another dime off me.” The news media people looked visibly shaken as their opportunities were vanishing before their very eyes. “Condemn me before any more money is made.”

The judge let out a low chuckle. “As you wish,” he calmly spoke, breathing in and out a moment. “You are hereby sentenced to death, sentence to be carried out in two hours’ time.” He slammed the gavel down. “Adjourned.”

The heroes walked with the officers who led Jack Hurst out of the courtroom and into the rear of the armored truck. After fifteen minutes of securing everything, the vehicle rumbled to life and began rolling. Twenty minutes of driving later, they opened the rear of the vehicle and the heroes took him to his final holding cell, where Jennifer and Jericho sat observing just outside.

She watched intently to make sure nothing went sideways. It bewildered her that Jack had eschewed the opportunity to make some grand speech. Still, there was one spectacle she would not miss: his execution. A few minutes later, a pre-planned event went without a hitch. A portal opened inside the cell and out stepped Emily, and the two children, Eric and Tim. “You have forty-five minutes,” John warned.

Jennifer watched to ensure no shenanigans ensued but couldn’t stand to listen to whatever their conversation was. A quick glance told her Jericho was much the same. “So, we won,” the billionaire finally said, breaking the silence.

Jennifer let out a sign that was as much mental as physical. “We pulled it off,” she uttered. “Holy shit.”

“Now,” he said, “I swear once this is over I think I’m going to take the longest shower ever.”

“Now we deal with the part they don’t show in the comics,” she replied.

He let out a chuckle. “What’s your plan?”

She shot him a look. “For what?” she asked.

He shrugged. “You know,” he replied, “for the future?”

She let out a laugh. “You mean,” she shot back, “after I take a long nap and play some video games to wind down?” She paused. “I dunno. We’ll get together as a team and talk about that.”

A thought occurred to him and he smiled while shaking his head. “You know what I just realized?” he asked. “We never once formally sat down and decided we were a team, we just did it.” He scratched his neck. “I’d never have imagined as a kid that superpowers would be real, and less than six months later, we’d be getting involved in crazy world saving stuff.”

“I’m surprised it took that long,” she replied. “In the comics, usually, the villains show up right away.” She gestured. “I expected everything to go post-apocalyptic right away. Things stayed reasonably together, all things considered.”

“Maybe most people were too afraid of shaking things up,” he said. “I mean, there were a few crazy enough to tangle with the cops. Maybe they all thought the villains were coming and didn’t want any part of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I have a thing I’m going to do soon.”

“What?” she asked. He held out his hand and she took it. Her eyebrows raised. “Oh, that’s a good one,” she said. “When you said you were going to shake up the status quo, you meant you were going all in.”

Footsteps approached. They turned and saw officers with riot gear. “Time’s up,” the first officer said.

“Gotcha,” Jennifer said, standing up and knocking on the door.

The knock on the door interrupted the mood. Jack, his face wet, let out a sigh and wiped his face on his shirt. He put a hand on his sons’ shoulders. “I love you two more than you can know,” he simply stated. His sons were about to protest the intrusion when he simply raised a finger and they went quiet. “No, this is how it has to be.” He turned to his wife. “Emily, I should’ve known better. I should’ve been better. I’ve put you and the kids through something impossible.” He pulled her into a tight embrace. “You deserved better from me.”

“Jack!” she cried. “I love you!”

“You’ll have to face the future without me,” he said. “I may not go where you’re going, but even still, I love you.”

A portal opened. “Time for you guys to go,” John said. “This was all we could get.” The wife and sons stepped away from their beloved Jack Hurst.

“Dad,” Tim said, wiping his eyes, “I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t worry,” Jack assured. “Just make sure you won’t make the same mistakes I made. Be accepting and loving. Be wise and strong. Not like me.”

“Dad!” Eric protested. “I can’t…!”

“You can,” Jack replied.

With one tearful final goodbye, they stepped through the portal, before it closed.

The cell door opened. He stood up.

As the shackles went on again, and he walked with the heroes following, he felt a strange sense of relief. His faith was in tatters, his beliefs shredded, and he no longer knew what would happen next, but at the very least, he knew his death would bring about the end of the horror he unleashed.

They led him down a hall and into a room with a medical set up. An audience of leaders of various governments, and a few select VIPs, watched as they led him into the chamber. “Jack Hurst,” a man in a medical garb said, “take your place on this table.” He placed his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

Suddenly, light passed through his eyes and Jack Hurst found himself coming awake.

He shot upright. “What the hell!” he shouted. As he spun his head left to right, desperate to see what had happened, he found himself in a large industrial setting surrounded by men in suits. The equipment looked rusted and cobwebs covered everything.

“Before you do or say anything,” a man said, “realize that we have ways of finding those you care about, and even now, I know there are those you don’t want us to get to.” The man had the most elaborate suit of them all, a Rolex on his wrist, and well-styled hair.

“What in the hell is going on?” Jack shouted.

The man let out a huff of a laugh and his grin returned. “You see,” he began, “we just knew the heroes were going to insist you be executed after trial.” He pulled up a chair and sat down. “Hell, if they didn’t, the world governments would have. The big thing was, we expected they wouldn’t kill you, because hey, that’s not what heroes do.” He shook his head. “But one thing nobody anticipated was, we can get our own inside anywhere.”

The puzzle pieces began to fit together. “Wait,” Jack said, “who is ‘we’ in this case?”

The man flashed a badge. “Joseph Russell, NSA,” he said. “Doesn’t matter that you know that, this place is surrounded by a faraday cage, so no signals going in or out. It’s also an isolated, abandoned factory miles away from civilization since industry left in the seventies.”

Jack’s mouth fell open. “Wait,” he almost gasped, “you mean, my own government falsified my execution?”

“Right,” Joseph stated. “You see, Jack, you did die. But the executioner has the power to replicate people.” He gestured. “Getting supers loyal to the government wasn’t difficult, given our resources.”

The preacher had to laugh at the horror of it all. “So,” he replied, “the world saw ‘me’ die. Why?” He blinked a long moment. When realization hit him, it felt like being punched in the chest by a bear. “Oh my god.”

Joseph grinned and pointed. “You got it.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Jack repeated.

“You see, Jack,” Joseph replied, “we almost lost you. You have this utterly terrible power. You can summon things that can decimate entire nations in an instant. It’s the worst possible power.” He let out a sigh. “You see, even someone who loves his drone war and doesn’t think twice about killing civilians like that prick Obama we have now, probably wouldn’t feel right using you.” He snapped his finger. “But, next year is an election year! I tell you what, next Republican president we get, that motherfucker is going to rubber-stamp you!” A funny thought came to mind. “Hell, it might even be Trump!”

“Now I know that motherfucker would love to use this guy,” another suited man said.

Jack felt the water spill out of the cup of his spirits. “Oh my sweet god,” he uttered, “my government is planning to use me like a W.M.D.”

“The world resists our efforts to control them,” Joseph shot back. “These suburban cocksuckers like to drive around in their dollar-ninety-nine-a-gallon SUV’s and buy their thousand-dollar smartphones and eat their fucking five-dollar fast food pizzas.” He got up and stuck his arms out. “Where the fuck do you think all that cheap consumerism comes from?” He pointed. “It comes from poor brown people and poor yellow people being paid fifty cents a week to pump oil and sell it to us for rock-bottom prices and sew our clothes at gunpoint and fucking put up with it.” He stalked over. “And every so goddamn often, some poor motherfucker in wing fuck China gets a wild hair up his ass to not put up with fifty cents a week to build our entire fucking economy. Some dumb piece of trash brown motherfucker with a towel on his head wants his people to benefit from the oil under his fucking sand instead of us.” He coughed out a laugh. “Who the fuck do these people think they are? We’re motherfucking Americans!”

The other men cheered. “You tell ’em, Joe!” one cried.

“We’re the best motherfucking people on the planet!” he shouted. “No motherfucker gets to have as high a quality of life as us! It’s our goddamn planet! These fuckers just get to live on it!” He leaned into Jack. “And you, my dear friend, are going to put things back in their proper order. Everyone is going to know what to do. Everyone is going to know the right way things should be. The message will be clear. You pump the oil, you build the fucking phone, you don’t fucking raise a stink when your kids starve to death. If you don’t, you die.” He stuck his arms out again. “AMERICA, GODDAMN, FIRST!”

Jack shook his head. “You’re an evil piece of shit,” he uttered.

“Me?” Joseph looked mildly offended. “Me? Go to any fucking suburban house. Red state? Blue state? Fuck, go to rural goddamn Pennsylvania! Go to rural Cali-fucking-fornia! You’ll see Confederate Flags! Ask those motherfuckers what they think of this idea!” He squinted. “It would make you piss yourself to find out how many Americans think just like me.”

“Good thing they just did.”

Men shouted and a few stumbled and fell at the sound of the voice. Jack looked up and his eyes went saucer wide. “John?” he almost shouted.

Joseph coughed and sputtered. “What…what the fuck!” he shouted. “How did you find this place?”

Raymond peeked his head out from behind John, still standing in the other side of the portal. “You see,” the middle-aged scientist said, “we had plenty of time to think. The first thing we thought of was the fact that some rogue nation or superpower would want Jack for themselves. Hell, did you really think we were so naïve we didn’t think some military asshole would salivate at the thought of using Jack as a walking nuke?”

“There were no tracking devices on him,” Joseph said. “We made sure. No signals coming off.”

John laughed. “Nanomachines!” he shrieked.

Several of the agents looked like they were going to be sick. “Wait,” Joseph argued. “We can talk about this.”

Raymond pointed up. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he explained. “Your faraday cage doesn’t take dimensional sci-fi-level tech into consideration.” The look on Joseph’s face gave both scientists great pleasure. “This whole conversation is going live in full HD video and audio to every news agency on planet Earth, along with plenty of recordings just in case.”

They looked up and saw drones streaming the whole thing.

“You gonna take care of it,” John asked, “or should we?”

Joseph blinked. “Wait, take care of what?” he asked.

Raymond pressed a button and a forcefield surrounded the portal as they watched. He then pointed to Jack. The agents looked and saw an enormous metal device summoned just behind him.

A moment later, an abandoned factory in Virginia exploded in a giant fireball, throwing concrete and mostly molten steel in all directions.

Days later, after a flurry of international chaos and disorder, Jennifer and her allies sat in chairs behind the Presidential podium set up in front of the White House. Quite possibly the largest crowd in Washington, D.C. history gathered to see the event. Clamor and conversation went quiet as President Obama stepped onto the podium, and immediately, applause filled the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the President began, “this morning we gather to celebrate victory in the greatest battle in the history of our planet.” Jennifer scanned the audience and found no weapons, no threats of any kind. She relaxed. “We have had our faith shaken, both in our very own institutions, and our fellow man, as a crime worse than any other was perpetrated by an evil wearing the very face of the Lord Jesus Christ.” Jericho adjusted his tie as he took in the bewildering turn of events that had led him to being celebrated by the President for using superpowers to help save the world from a supervillain. “In the face of unparalleled wickedness, a team of ordinary people came together to save us all. For that, we gather here to celebrate them. First, the woman who was first to answer the call, Jennifer Black!”

A raucous applause drowned out all other sound. The President stood aside and gestured. She stood up, approached, and placed both hands on the podium to stabilize herself. She’d never dealt with a crowd like this before. “Uh,” she began, “I don’t know what to say beyond just, well, I couldn’t stand by and watch something happen knowing I could do something.” The applause signaled the crowd wanted more. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I just started going where people needed help. When the true evil arrived, I knew I had to stop him, because no one else was going to do it for me.” She paused to slow her racing heart. “I promise that, from now on, my friends and I are going to do everything in our power to make things not just good, but as good as they can be.” She nodded. “That’s all.”

“That is the best news we’ve gotten so far,” the President said. “And that’s something to look forward to. Next, when so many of his kind hid in expensive bunkers, one man stepped away from comfort to risk his life to save us, Jericho Torvalds!”

The billionaire stood up. “Needless to say,” he stated, “I must echo the sentiments of my good friend and ally, for she so effectively stated our mission. In the coming days and months, we will begin a process of enriching all of mankind, and I promise this will be some of the biggest opportunities in history. I cannot give specifics at this time, but rest assured, we are preparing as we speak.”

“Excellent!” the President agreed. “Annie Wilson, who fought valiantly and brought evil to its knees!” She waved her turn off. “Well then, Edward Mitchell, you had words to say?”

“I did,” the young black man replied, taking the podium. “I had something I needed to say. My momma raised me with Jesus, so I speak from a different place than some of my friends. When I saw that monster wearing the face of Jesus Christ, doing the evil he was doing, I tried to hide it, swallow my pride and go on, but it ate away at me.” He paused to wipe his eyes. “I saw so many of my fellow Christians either standing aside and letting this thing do what it did, or actively taking part in and cheering on the murder, and I knew I had to do something.” He coughed. “I think, in the wake of this tragedy, we have to stand up to our fellow Christians, the ones who only use the religion to act superior and to oppress others. Too many are focused on the rules and not enough on loving thy neighbor. We need to stop pretending we’re so damn perfect and stop acting all high and mighty and stop treating society as ‘us-vs-them’ when we’re not in any way better!” The audience cheered. “We’re supposed to be the ones who are the most accepting! How can we be so lazy as to forget that! It’s our duty to stand up to those who call themselves Christians but are hateful and exclusionary and care more about laws and regulations than human lives!” He wiped his eyes again. “All I’m saying, is that we have to be the loving, accepting, caring followers of Christ that we’re supposed to be. More focused on people and less focused on being ‘holier than thou.’” He nodded and stepped away.

“What a magnificent sentiment, I must say!” the President cried. “John Stephenson, along with Raymond Weiss, you two are responsible for making the amazing technological fight against evil possible. Would you like to speak?”

John shrugged. “Can’t top what Edward said,” he said.

“Nope,” Raymond agreed.

“Davis Wilson?” the President asked.

The agent agreed and took the podium. “My boss isn’t one for words,” he said, “so I figured I’d speak for him and all of us in government who got a rare opportunity to be the good guys.” He cleared his throat. “This ordeal shook our very foundations. I work for the FBI, and that means I deal with criminals. But there’s far too many examples of the police being a blunt instrument that kills our citizens with little regard for rights. Many of the colleagues who fought with me agree that these institutions designed to protect the haves against the have-nots need to be radically restructured. I think we need to stop letting a system go on treating those who happen to be poor as less than human and treating the rich as untouchable.” He shrugged. “But hey, what do I know? I just happened to be one of the good ones.” A laugh passed over the crowd.

“A great idea, if I may say so!” the President said. He opened a leather-bound folder. “What I do next, I do with great pride.” He pulled out a pen and signed. “By signing this, I hereby grant citizenship to Jennifer Black, as well as authorizing a generous financial reward to all the heroes who assisted her friends and her in their unprecedented struggle against a tyrannical evil.”

The crowd gave a standing ovation. The President then handed each of them a document showing their congratulations, with a check attached. Of the group, only Jericho didn’t have some kind of freak out at the seven-digit number printed on it. After that, a whirlwind of important people and congresspeople mingling with the heroes happened. Jericho saw the look on Jennifer’s face. “Hey,” he whispered, “I’ll take care of the rest. You go home and rest, you’ve earned it.”

“You sure?” she asked.

“Believe me,” he replied, “I’m familiar with situations like this.”

“Thank you,” she said, hugging him. “I’m still detoxing from the emotional crap I’ve had to deal with.”

“I’m only here because of you,” he admitted. “I should be thanking you.”

She took off, and landed not far from her house and sped the rest of the way on foot. Hidden by a bush, she shifted back. Manny removed his housekey from his pocket, and stepped in. Although he wasn’t physically tired, the emotional toll exhausted him. He set his letter on his counter after locking the door, stripped to his underwear, and collapsed into bed. A dream played through his mind. He saw a scene of humanity taking to the stars. He flew through space with his friends and loved it. His female form would take him places he couldn’t go, and that was a gift he wasn’t giving up for anything.

After the event, Jericho arrived at the hotel room.

“So,” he said, as his brother got up from the bed. “You weren’t up for the event?”

Luther hugged his older brother. “Nah,” he retorted. “Not really.”

Jericho smiled. “I’m so glad you were there to help me,” he admitted. “I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Ha!” Luther replied. “Careful, that almost sounds like you need me.”

“You’re right,” Jericho countered, “I do need you. You’re going to love what I have in mind.”

Luther raised his eyebrows. “That’s a scary thought.”