"What--"
"I have to get to the roof. My costume's there. I have to--"
"Oh, my God! The bomber's on TV!" someone shouts.
Like everyone else we rush to the overhead television. One look at the cracked screen and the color drains from Jem's face. I recognize the villain from my Triumvirate research. Emperor Cain stands in a dark room surrounded by pipes illuminated only by the light on the camera. Steam rises in the background. A boiler room of some kind. The Emperor wears his black and red costume with black cowl hiding all but his mouth. From far away the outfit could be mistaken for regular clothes with black pants and red top with "EC" entwined on it complete with a black cape. Wish I had done more research on him, but I do remember he was presumed dead after their last battle nine months ago. That was what the heroes told everyone anyway.
"…your attention," he continues. "For those of you not familiar with my work, my name is Emperor Cain, formerly of the great city of Independence, and you may be asking yourselves why I have chosen to grace the presence of this podunk, rat infested cesspool. There are three of your new residents who know the answer to this question." I glance at Jem, who if possible has grown paler. "Hello, old friends. Didn't think you were rid of me, did you? The location may change, but the game remains the same. Feeling nostalgic, yet? I was. First time for everything." He pauses. "And I do apologize to the citizens of Galilee, that you must be brought into our fray, but that is the price you pay for giving quarter to mine enemies." His smile sends a shiver down my spine. "Principal rule of warfare for those less educated: leave your enemies nowhere to go to ground. I've often alleged these quote unquote heroes they care not for the collateral damage inflicted by their antics, but today I give them a chance to prove me wrong. The Royal Triumvirate has one hour to vacate this city. For every fifteen minutes they do not comply a bomb, such as this one," he steps aside to show a huge, complex bomb with a dozen wires woven into blocks of C-4 wedged between two boilers, "will detonate in the hearts of this city, which might be closer than you think, and thousands will die." He leans toward the camera. "Citizens of Galilee Falls, are your newest so-called heroes really worth all this? I think not." The screen goes black then returns to BNN, the anchor carrying on interviewing Senator Harden as if the interruption never happened.
Jem is so deep in thought I can practically see the gears spinning. "Jem?"
Without a word, he runs over to the wall, smashes the plastic container for the fire alarm, and engages it. His gaze jerks to me. "We have to evacuate the hospital in the next fifteen minutes."
I do a double take as he sprints to the stairwell. I reach him just as he enters it, and we run down. "We can't do that. This is the closest hospital to the bridge. County is four miles away. We don't even know if there's a bomb here. Besides, it'd take triple that to fully evacuate. It can't be done." People pass us in a panic, running up the stairs in the opposite direction. "Jem, are you listening to me?" I grab his lab coat. "Jem!"
From the shock on his face, I think he'd forgotten I was here. "You shouldn't be here. You need to leave. You need to run as far and fast as possible. He--"
"What? I'm not going anywhere."
"You don't understand. He said, 'closer than you think.' He mentioned nostalgia. The first battle we ever had was in the boiler room at my hospital. He could be down there now."
"Then there's no way in hell I'm letting you go down there alone."
"Joanna--"
I pull out my .22 from my purse. "You need back-up. No time for debate. Come on." This time I lead, but he quickly passes me. This is stupid, so stupid, but I follow anyway. I can't not.
The stairs to the boiler room are blocked by a chain-link door that hangs open. I grip the gun tighter as we descend. The stairs end at another open door. Machines rumble though the space, so it's hard to listen for voices, if there are any. It's also dark, the only light emanating from the incinerators. We'll have to go in blind and deaf. Jem stands at the door to listen anyway. "Stay close," he whispers. I nod. I follow a step behind with the pistol pointed. We make it five steps when his foot hits a toolbox. I damn near leap a mile up as the tools clatter out. So much for the element of surprise. We wait a second in case of attack, but none comes. Jem retrieves the flashlight that's rolled out and switches it on. Still nothing. "This way," he whispers.
We move through an avenue with two scalding machines on either side. When we clear them, the flashlight reveals something silver down the path. A video camera on a tripod. "Why would he leave that here?" I ask as we sprint toward it. Jem isn't listening. I glance where he stands, my stomach dropping. A bomb. A huge fucking bomb with at least ten pounds of explosives and a timer counting down the seconds. A little over twelve minutes. This thing could blow up the hospital twice over. "Fuck me."