Justice(113)

I poke my head out and she fires, this time the spark of the bullet on metal striking close enough to feel. “Guess that trip into the sunset is cancelled, huh Grace?” I call out. “You know, if he really loved you, you two would be gone by now. How does it feel playing second fiddle to a superhero?”

“Shut up!”

I check around the corner again, and she fires. I can still see her, so I fire back. And that’s it. I’m out. Shit. “You know what I think,” I say after a chuckle, “and the GFPD, as well as our psychologist shares this theory. We’ve been laughing about it all the time. We think it’s not you he loves. We think when he’s on top of you, whispering promises of love, it’s really Justice he’s thinking of. How about it, Grace? In the heat of passion, has he ever called out, ‘Justice, oh Justice,’” I say in my best porn voice. “Huh? Has he?”

“You fucking bitch!”

I peek again and she fires twice. I step back, chuckling. “Hit a nerve, did I Grace?” She has one more bullet left now. She—

A bleeding and battered Alkaline stumbles into view, the trench coat gone and his costume ripped. With a roar he runs back behind the helipad out of view. Judging from the state of him, I think we’re winning. “Just saw your boyfriend, Grace,” I shout, “and he is getting his ass kicked. What—”

I spy around the corner, but this time I’m greeted by a gun right in my face. Training takes over. Using the barrel, I pull the gun toward me to break her finger while bending her wrist down with one fluid moment. It works. She screams in pain and I retrieve the gun. But I underestimate crazy strength. Before I can re-position the gun, she’s on me, knocking us both onto the concrete, hitting my still tender head. She bites my hand, and I drop her gun. As she reaches for it, I smack her in the nose with my forehead. We’re both stunned, but she more so. I grab her arms and roll her onto her back, retrieving the gun and pointing it right at her face. “Don’t move.”

She just sniggers. “Ward trash.”

With one good swipe of the gun to her head, she’s out. “And proud of it.”

I tear a piece of fabric from my dress and knot her hands behind her back, and race off to help my friend. I run up the ramp to get a better view and grab the dead guard’s shotgun. Five shots left. It’ll have to do. At least I have the high ground. I dash over to the side of the heliport. It’s a mess down there. The roof is smoking and melting from where Alkaline’s shot. The twisted metal of the helicopter door lies in a heap directly below. About ten yards away, I see them. Justin rests against the rattling chain-link protector, unconscious. Alkaline looms over him, laughing manically as he punches Justin’s chest over and over again, blood blooming with each hit. The bones coming out of Alkaline’s wrists barely have time to drip blood before they’re plunged back into Justin’s chest. Justin doesn’t move, doesn’t even register the blows anymore. I think he’s dead.

“Ryder!” I shout. The madman looks up, blood caking his face. “It’s over. Get off him or I’ll blow your brains out. Pretty sure you can’t regenerate a new head.” I cock the shotgun.

“Do that and I’ll stop being nice. I’m right near his heart, Joanna. Shoot me and it gets a nice dose of acid. Think he can grow an entire heart? Because I don’t.”

“You’re bluffing. You would have done it already if you hadn’t blown your wad.”

“Think so?” With the bone not inside my friend, he shoots a small amount of liquid right by Justin’s head, disintegrating the chain-link behind. “Drop the gun, Detective, or be responsible for the death of the city’s champion.”

I don’t know what to do. If I shoot him, he might obliterate Justin’s heart. I don’t, there’s a tiny chance he’ll let Justin go. Justin makes the choice for me. His eye opens, and a wave of relief washes over me. “Okay,” I say. “We go at the same time.” I start bending down as he begins pulling out the bone at the same pace.

Justin comes alive. As Alkaline keeps his eyes on me, Justin grabs both his wrists. The bone in his chest breaks in half, acid spilling onto Justin, but Alkaline is howling in pain. I spring up again, firing into his back. His body jerks from the impact. He falls off Justin onto the chain-link, blood, the acid spewing from his wrist. Smiling, I expel the shell. “I think we win.”

I run down the ramp, past the still unconscious Grace, and around the corner. Alkaline is whimpering and Justin is still leaning against the fence when I reach them. Both look like hell, but Justin’s face and chest are covered in blood, burns, and gaping holes. Even with regeneration I think he’s going to need a doctor. I lean beside him. “Are you okay?” He doesn’t register my presence. His eyes remain glued to the man beside him. I shake him. “Justin?”