Unmasked Heroes (Book 1)

Chapter 10

"Statistically, a psychopath is more likely to end up as a CEO than a serial killer "- Jennifer Lynn Barnes

The steel door flies like a bullet, slamming into the wall and colliding with one of the room's occupants en route. The thunderous, loud noise of metal scratching on brick resonates into my eardrums, banging like the beat of a drum in disharmonic notes. I cringe.

Puma accelerates from behind Scorpio, surprising the occupants as she rams into two of them at full speed, like a green comet. Leaving her to deal with both of them, I glance to my left, extending my hand to grip the remainder occupants in a levitating chokehold. At once, the two women are suspended in mid-air behind to gasp and wheeze as all the oxygen is sucked out of their lungs. When I notice one of them coughing out blood, I ease my hold, just a little. Before I stop them from breathing completely, I slam them into the wall, knocking them out cold.

All five of them are down. But the fight isn't over. Not yet.

The man fighting Puma slowly rises to his feet and slams his bloody fist into the red panic button against the wall. He falls in an unconscious heap just as alarms blare.

Between the ringing in my ears and the flashing of neon lights, I catch the roar of multiple footsteps slapping against the concrete.

"There's more coming!" Hawk points out.

"No kidding," Scorpio groans, as he's attacked by a stocky man dressed head to toe in black.

"Not the time!" Puma calls and jumps into the fray.

Several more armed men and women flood into the room, wearing black militia uniforms, holding dangerous rifles and pistols in their hands. They're coming from what looks like a vertical opening door, cut not the wall, and paint to blend in. To the naked eye, it appears there's nothing there unless you inspect closely.

Or see people emerge from there with your own eyes.

"Still more?" Puma exclaims, slamming her fist into a woman holding a wickedly sharp knife.

Who are these people? How are they so well equipped with weapons? Clearly, they have had some sort of combat training, and a proper one too. They're not just guarding weapons in storage. No, this is something bigger and–

I barely miss the first kick to my face, ducking out of the way just as my opponent rallies up for a second throw.

No time to think. Gotta act fast, Move fast.

A man holding a gun that spurts electric blue surges aims at me. I teleport myself behind him, my foot connecting with his temple in a roundhouse kick. He passes out instantly. Spinning around, I'm moving quickly on my feet as I punch another woman, making her stumble back from the blow. 

She whips out two curved blades from her belt, her eyes murderous as she brandishes the deadly weapons. I watch her flourish them with impressive skill for a short time before flicking my fingers lazily. The curved blades instantly shoot out of her hands, following the projectile I've created in my mind.

They slam into the wall, embedded in brick.

That could've been me.

I lock into a hand-to-hand combat with the woman. She's heavy on her feet, whereas I'm much lighter, but her movements are stronger, her hits harder. I take a blow to the torso and in exchange slam my fist into her skull. I ignore the sharp pain extending from my abdomen right to my ribs. 

Twisting out of the way from a powerful kick, I almost collide with a body as it sails over my head. Instead, I watch with grim satisfaction as the woman's eyes widen just as the body crashes into her, dropping them both to the ground.