Previous chapter is HERE
Mark Metcalf stood tall and big, putting himself between the woman with crackling eyes and his family. “Mom, dad, Amber. Get ready to run.”
“You three better stand very still!” she barked.
“Who are you?”
“Apollo,” she replied looking at the terrified trio behind Mark.
A confused look ran over Mark’s face. “Apollo? That’s boys name.”
Carla’s eyes went wide with rage and a geyser of flames shot from her eyes, making the saying of ‘if looks could kill’ a volcanic reality. Flames lapped over him, his shirt melting away, but Mark didn’t feel anything. The Metcalf’s screamed; Barry grabbing his wife and daughter and running for the stage. Apollo noticed and began to turn her gaze at them when mark’s hands burst through the flame and grabbed her ears. Mark drove her head down and rammed his knee up, Carla’s nose splattering across her face before pushing to the floor.
“STAY DOWN!” he ordered. Apollo groggily got up to her feet, reeling like she’d gone simultaneous twelve rounds with Mike Tyson, Connor McGregor AND Lennox Lewis, blood gushing from her nose. Mark then slapped her across the side of the head sending her careening into the redone seating of Webster Hall. “That’s for Howard.”
Mark ran after his parents. Carla stood up, her nose nearly healed but a column of crimson had stained her front. She scooped bits of the broken earpiece out of her ear as her healing factor righted the multiple concussions she’d just received from the slap. Carla had nothing to compare it too, it was the hardest she’d ever received and that was an open hand slap in the way old Italian nannas fight.
Barry, Diana and Amber crashed out the fire door and into the alley behind Webster Hall.
“Is Mark okay?” Diana asked frantically.
“This is (*&^%# insane!” Amber yelled.
“AMBER!” Barry chastised her. “We should keep moving, get some distance.”
Mark slammed out another fire door, looked about and caught up to his family.
“Is she gone?” Amber asked.
“I don’t know, I smacked her pretty hard,” Mark said. “We should…I don’t know. Run.”
“Let’s get a car and drive,” Diana snapped. “In the car, drive back to crescent city.”
“Gupta would know what to…where is Gupta?” Mark asked as she spotted Apollo burst through the roof of the Webster and take to the sky. “Here, go hide at Freddie’s, I’ll hold her off.”
Marl slapped a room key into his father’s hand and pushed them away. He then grabbed a dumpster and threw it like a ball at Apollo. She used her heat vision to melt it to slag before it hit her. She then swept down on a strafing run burning the ground and coating Mark in flames but nothing asides from the rest of his clothes went up. Mark thumped the side of a building, jarring lose a dozen or so bricks. He then flung them at her. Apollo dodged the first couple, hit a few with her heat vision but one got through smashing her in the teeth. Then another whumped her in the stomach and then another clipped her temple and she fell out of the sky. As she landed Mark leapt on her and pinned her to the ground, his forearm across her neck.
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
Carla gurgled a reply as the girder like arm pressed her Adams’ apple against her spinal column. Mark raised a fist and pounded it into her forehead, the bones cracking and indenting.
“Oh god!” Mark gasped as he looked at the damage he’s caused to her. “I didn’t mean too…”
Carla opened her eyes and blasted Mark again at point blank range, but it was as effective as a garden hose. Mark slammed another bout of fists into her face, stopping when he horrifically saw that her head and the road had now become one. Mark vomited, trying to stop it with his hands made it worse.
“Oh god. Oh god. What have I done?”
Deputy Director of Homeland Security Brock Cissna watched whole incident via Apollo’s body-cam. “Did he just…?”
“Apollo is down, sir,” said a technician looking at a screen loaded with stats, charts and graphs. “But not dead. Faint pulse, some brain activity.”
“How the hell do we stop this guy?” Cissna exclaimed as he watched a naked Mark Metcalf run off.
The Metcalf’s sat in the spacious lounge room of the apartment that Mark had borrowed off his actor friend. Barry and Diana were glued to the television, Amber was scrolling Twitter and Instagram as Mark paced the floor trying to get a hold of his agent.
‘’F^$# &e!” Amber gasped. “The President just put a bounty on my head!”
“What?” Barry Metcalf looked over his daughter shoulder. “In an unprecedented move for a sitting President, a bounty of twenty-five million has been placed on each of the Metcalf’s.”
“Did you touch those women?” his mother asked as another exclusive broadcast hit the news about the lesbian couple from the other night.
“NO!” Mark snapped. “Jeez mom! I smashed her phone, everything else is lies! And a bounty?”
“Gonna turn myself and be rich!” Amber joked.
“Where the hell is Gupta?” Mark asked.
Gupta Zardari came to, finding himself in a padded room with his arms wrapped around himself in a straight-jacket. “What is this?”