They weren’t normal footsteps either. They reminded of Jaclyn’s when she was running slowly enough that they still sounded like footsteps, but close to the point where her footfalls blended together into a hum.
So, a speedster was behind , and a huge suit of powered armor stood in front of . Normally I’d have tried to move myself so that they could only co at one at a ti, but with a speedster that would be nearly impossible.
I didn’t even have ti to co up with a plan before he hit .
Basically there are two kinds of speedsters, the kind that ss with physics to seem to move quickly, and the kind whose bodies have the strength, toughness and reflexes to handle moving at obscene speeds.
Judging from the way he punched through the nearest wall, I guessed that I was facing the latter.
I hit a tall structure on the way through, causing it fall over with a crash, but I couldn’t tell what it was. Before I could look, a red and white blur ca through the hole, and began pounding on the Rocket suit.
The good news? I wasn’t getting a string of error ssages. The bad? Given ti, he’d break sothing, and when he did, the Rocket suit wouldn’t do much good against nerve gas.
And that could an death.
I had no chance of hitting him, and I didn’t try. He’d see anything I did and dodge it.
I didn’t panic. Hours of training with Jaclyn during the spring and sumr ant that I’d had to co up with tactics that would work.
Touching the buttons on the palms of each glove, I triggered the sonics at high volu—well past the threshold of pain.
He stepped back, covering his ears.
Knowing I didn’t have much ti, I fired off a few of one of my newer roachbot types. On the inside of my helt, they showed up as three blue dots flying toward him, but then they exploded into fine strings of white goo. Spreading out, they stuck to his skin, his costu, and the wall.
Stolen story; please report.
Better yet, using multiple goobots had worked as intended. Instead of just sticking to his front, lines of goo covered his sides and t in the back.
For most people it would have been overkill to use three bots, but with his strength, three was the minimum.
He tried to get out, shaking, and trying to pull his arms away from his head, but he couldn’t. The goo had bonded with his hands and skin. He had to feel skin pulling away from his muscles every ti he moved.
Disgustingly, the usefulness of the goo totally banked on the assumption that people wouldn’t be willing to rip their own skin off to continue to fight.
That, and the assumption that if it had only touched clothes, they wouldn’t be willing to fight naked.
After a few seconds of frantic movent, he relaxed, hanging within a web of goo strands.
Only then did I get a good look at the guy.
I recognized him. I’d seen him in newspapers and online. So supers beca internationally famous and people all over the world knew their nas. He was almost one of those people.
Just a little shorter than I was while in the Rocket suit, he had brown hair, tanned skin, a mustache and solid, square face—where it wasn’t covered by his mask. The red and white costu included a small eagle on the left side of his chest.
He was the speedster of an EU hero team, and he was almost famous because he’d stuck with the Polish version of his na instead of publicizing an English version. He called himself “Prentkos” or sothing like that.
That left the question of what he was doing here, why he was helping Rook, and whether he was doing it willingly.
Unfortunately, I didn’t have ti to think about it because I still had a guy in big set of powered armor waiting outside for .
I pulled myself up out of the wreckage. The tal structure I’d knocked over turned out to be a bunk bed. The bunk had smashed a TV set, a rack of CD’s, and what looked to be an athletic trophy.
Still, it was interesting how so people here got nicer accommodations than others—private rooms instead of open bunking areas.
Outside the sound of heavy footsteps gave more than a little motivation to leave, and a bad feeling that even if I took the powered armor guy out, it might not be the only set I’d have to face. Plus, I’d either have to make myself constantly visible to find Cassie, or continually ask the gun questions if I wanted to find her while sneaking around.
Crap.
I couldn’t wait and think about it.
Fighting down a rising sense of panic, I bashed the door open, placing myself in a hallway near a corner.
The helt’s sonar showed that the huge set of powered armor wasn’t more than ten feet from . The cool thing though was that I could target the armor indirectly.
I fired off two EMPbots, and they turned the corner, exploding directly in front of the armor, and creating a very respectable pulse.
The armor didn’t slow down at all.
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