Read Online Young Sentinels (Wearing the Cape) (Volume 3) by Marion G. Harmon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marion G. Harmon
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like “Uphold the Sixth Amendment!” and “What do you have to hide?” I liked the CCR; they weren’t politically extreme, mostly, and even had a point. But then there were the rest; Humanity First extremists were the loudest part of the crowd, the pro-registration advocates holding up slogans like “Don’t live in fear!”, “Do you know what your neighbors are?” and “We register guns, why not superpowers?” Lots of registration advocates discovered their vocations the day of the Event, and the Domestic Security Act had only been their latest try.
“ Wow ,” Shelly whispered in my ear. “ Did you know Jamal’s getting a new last name? Gee, I wonder why? ”
“Don’t.” I managed to keep my face straight. “And hush — there’s Shankman.”
Mallory Shankman stood behind the police line a few steps from the Picasso — the ugly, metal, monumental cubist sculpture Picasso gave the city (Was it a baboon? An aardvark? Picasso’s pet dog?). He perched on a box, flanked by three of his bodyguards, to work up the crowd with a megaphone. Representative Shankman now; he’d won election to the Illinois General Assembly in April, mainly on a law-and-order and anti-cape platform. Word that Judge Sanderson had accepted my testimony had obviously gotten outside a while ago; he had the crowd doing a call and response.
“Let them hear you!” “NO MASKS!” “Let them hear you!” “NO MASKS!” It turned into a general roar when they saw me, and the cops stood even straighter, trying to stare down the crowd. Maybe the front door hadn’t been the best idea...
Then the guy in white popped out of nowhere between Shankman and the crowd with something in his hand. Adrenaline shot through me. Used to the way Rush and Crash could just appear from nowhere out of hypertime, I leaped forward before Shankman or his men even twitched. Not fast enough. No, no, no ...
The man’s arm went back, came forward hard enough to deliver whatever weapon he held in a straight shot into Shankman’s face. Shankman staggered back, and I was there to get splashed as I pulled him down, came up between him and the thrower — who’d vanished again. Turning back to grab Shankman, fly him to the closest emergency room, I stopped. It wasn't blood — his face was covered in...cherry filling? What?
Then the idiot bodyguard on his left shot me. It went downhill from there.
Chapter Eight: Megaton
The Sentinels are masters of the superhero image. Blackstone is the elder statesman and mentor, dignified and mysterious. Lei Zi is appropriately professional and dangerous — a storm that’s on your side. Astra is their golden girl, noble and natural and wholesome despite sensationalist smear campaigns. The Watchman exudes patient ... watchfulness, and so on. The public forgets that Blackstone is an ex-Marine intelligence officer, Lei Zi and Watchman are ex-Army, decorated combat veterans, and Astra, mentored and trained by Atlas and Ajax, killed enemies of this country in the first attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor.
We forget because Astra gets cats out of trees.
Geraldine Roche , Public Opinion.
----
My day started out surreal.
First, I was on Powernet. Sure, trees ate an airport, but they hadn’t killed anybody so I came in a close second; the news page already had pictures of the bus and witness interviews. The only student they talked to who didn’t say something like “We should have seen it coming” was Tiffany, and she was barely coherent. There were no interviews with the driver’s family, but they had my freshman-year Fat Picture and last year’s wrestling team shots. They were building a story and had me halfway to supervillain.
Well, screw them.
When I finally came out of my rooms, The Harlequin cornered me over my corn flakes in the dining room that did not, in any way, resemble a school cafeteria. She grilled me about color preferences, but the first thing she said when she sat down was “Leather.
“ Wow ,” Shelly whispered in my ear. “ Did you know Jamal’s getting a new last name? Gee, I wonder why? ”
“Don’t.” I managed to keep my face straight. “And hush — there’s Shankman.”
Mallory Shankman stood behind the police line a few steps from the Picasso — the ugly, metal, monumental cubist sculpture Picasso gave the city (Was it a baboon? An aardvark? Picasso’s pet dog?). He perched on a box, flanked by three of his bodyguards, to work up the crowd with a megaphone. Representative Shankman now; he’d won election to the Illinois General Assembly in April, mainly on a law-and-order and anti-cape platform. Word that Judge Sanderson had accepted my testimony had obviously gotten outside a while ago; he had the crowd doing a call and response.
“Let them hear you!” “NO MASKS!” “Let them hear you!” “NO MASKS!” It turned into a general roar when they saw me, and the cops stood even straighter, trying to stare down the crowd. Maybe the front door hadn’t been the best idea...
Then the guy in white popped out of nowhere between Shankman and the crowd with something in his hand. Adrenaline shot through me. Used to the way Rush and Crash could just appear from nowhere out of hypertime, I leaped forward before Shankman or his men even twitched. Not fast enough. No, no, no ...
The man’s arm went back, came forward hard enough to deliver whatever weapon he held in a straight shot into Shankman’s face. Shankman staggered back, and I was there to get splashed as I pulled him down, came up between him and the thrower — who’d vanished again. Turning back to grab Shankman, fly him to the closest emergency room, I stopped. It wasn't blood — his face was covered in...cherry filling? What?
Then the idiot bodyguard on his left shot me. It went downhill from there.
Chapter Eight: Megaton
The Sentinels are masters of the superhero image. Blackstone is the elder statesman and mentor, dignified and mysterious. Lei Zi is appropriately professional and dangerous — a storm that’s on your side. Astra is their golden girl, noble and natural and wholesome despite sensationalist smear campaigns. The Watchman exudes patient ... watchfulness, and so on. The public forgets that Blackstone is an ex-Marine intelligence officer, Lei Zi and Watchman are ex-Army, decorated combat veterans, and Astra, mentored and trained by Atlas and Ajax, killed enemies of this country in the first attack on American soil since Pearl Harbor.
We forget because Astra gets cats out of trees.
Geraldine Roche , Public Opinion.
----
My day started out surreal.
First, I was on Powernet. Sure, trees ate an airport, but they hadn’t killed anybody so I came in a close second; the news page already had pictures of the bus and witness interviews. The only student they talked to who didn’t say something like “We should have seen it coming” was Tiffany, and she was barely coherent. There were no interviews with the driver’s family, but they had my freshman-year Fat Picture and last year’s wrestling team shots. They were building a story and had me halfway to supervillain.
Well, screw them.
When I finally came out of my rooms, The Harlequin cornered me over my corn flakes in the dining room that did not, in any way, resemble a school cafeteria. She grilled me about color preferences, but the first thing she said when she sat down was “Leather.
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