Omega(32)

                “How about a Thanks-A-Lot?” he grunted and swung at me in a backhanded slap that connected and caused a ringing in my ears as it lifted me off the ground and hurled me into the concrete terrace. I heard the retaining wall crack, possibly along with my skull, as I tried to blink the dots and colors out of my eyes.

                When my eyes refocused, I saw him take a limping step forward, dragging the other leg behind him. He was still in the street, at a perfect right angle to the Honda he had hit. “I know you,” he said in a gruff, scratchy voice. “Sienna Nealon. I’ll make you my prize, take you back to the boss; Operation Stanchion will be over even before it starts—”

                He stopped speaking when a squeal of tires came from his left. The van slammed into the parked Honda next to him, spinning its front end around. The front of the car hit him from behind, catapulting him into the air. He flew to my right and struck the terrace wall about ten feet from where I lay, shattering the block and causing the first level to collapse on him. His legs stuck out onto the sidewalk, his dark gray trousers and beat-up tennis shoes the only thing remaining that weren’t covered by concrete and dirt. The broken blocks had buried him to the waist.

                “Are you okay?” Reed jumped out of the van and was making his way toward me. I shook my head, feeling as though my brain were rattling inside it.



                             “I think so,” I said. “Took a little bump to the noggin on that one. Glad you guys came back to join the fight.”

                “Hold still,” Kat said, appearing out of my peripheral vision. I felt her touch against my skin, short contact that only lasted a few seconds, and I felt better. “I can’t do any more than that,” she said with a low gasp as she pulled her hands away. “Not without...you know. Losing my soul, or whatever, and I don’t think I’d want to spend my life in your head. I have a feeling it’s a creepy place.”

                “What are you trying to say about me?” I stood with Reed’s assistance, his hand on my arm, helping me up.

                Kat’s face went agape, and I saw her jaw move up and down as she started to stammer. “Nothing. No, nothing at all.”

                “You could at least try and lie better,” I said, and pulled my arm from Reed. “Did anyone check on that Omega operative to make sure he’s good and down? That man hits like a frigging asteroid—”

                As if to punctuate my point, a concrete block hit Reed in the face. I saw the whole thing as if it were in slow motion, the impact, the concrete shattering, blood geysering from my brother’s nose and his bone structure deforming from the impact. His body dropped to the sidewalk, his eyes invisible beneath puddles of blood already forming in the sockets. His jaw was hanging at an odd angle; he was almost unrecognizable.

                “Kat!” I screamed. “Fix him!” I positioned myself between her and the next concrete block that came winging at us. I hit it with my fist, knocking it to the side, shattering the window of a nearby car. Another one came from the Omega monster as he wound up and pitched it, and I slapped it out of the way. I felt the pain in my hand and hoped I could keep up. My meta reflexes allowed me some leeway, but not much; it was all I could do to keep the bricks from hitting Kat.

                The next I caught too late and it exhausted most of its force against my forearm. The face of the man from Omega was a wreck from his trip through the wall, off-axis from the impact and swollen. I knew it would heal, but for now his lips had shifted several inches to the right and blood was flowing down his shirt, which had a rip halfway down his abdomen, revealing a muscular stomach that I might have found appealing on a less violently disagreeable man.



                             He winged another block at me and I knocked it aside with my good hand as I closed on him. He paused and his hands went to his face, feeling it, fingers tracing the lines around his jaw and nose. I couldn’t see much reaction because I presumed his facial nerves had suffered some damage, but there was a pronounced twitch and more eye motion as he touched himself. “You...” he said, and his words were slurred by the movement of his jaw, which bounced up and down as though it were a garage door off its track. “You...did...this...”