CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-NINE

The Last Heracleidae, Part 2

Their first clash was one of strength where both hero and villain launched themselves forward with fists that struck each other in their cheeks. And, although Apex’s blow felt like it almost ripped his head off his shoulders, Sam’s quick use of Bulwark helped him endure the punch that would have felled even the thickest of tree trunks. As for Apex, well, the grin on his face suggested the villain enjoyed that exchange more than it hurt him.

“Was that it?” Apex asked in a mocking tone.

A bristling Sam planted his feet in the asphalt, and with a taunt of, “Here’s some more knuckle sandwich!” flung a right-fisted haymaker at the same cheek he’d struck earlier. This second blow—which Triple-A once again informed Sam was boosted to four times his regular strength—was so heavy that the bridge rumbled in protest.

“How was that?” Sam taunted.

Apex, whose head had swiveled to the right as he met Sam’s punch, spat blood on the ground before replying with, “Better.”

Then he too launched a right-fisted haymaker at Sam, a move that Triple-A warned Sam he needed to dodge. Crazily enough, Sam refused. If Apex was man enough to take his strongest punch then Sam’s pride wouldn’t allow him to back away from the same challenge.

Apex’s fist smashed against the near-invisible layer of energy covering Sam’s face and caused cracks to appear on its surface while Sam’s head jerked back from the heavy blow. He sprung back to position quickly enough though. Like Apex, he spat a wad of blood on the ground between them before flinging the villain’s words back at him. “Was that it?”

“You have a shield,” Apex pointed out.

“And you have unbreakable lion fur armor,” Sam fired back. “At least my defense comes from my power.”

“The tools we use are extensions of ourselves,” Apex replied. “Only a fool would choose not to use the gifts the gods give us.”

“I doubt you were given that,” Sam countered. “You’re not worthy to wear Hercules’ armor.”

“Only the victor decides who is worthy,” Apex spat back at Sam. “I proved the victor after I smashed my father into a pulp and claimed the Nemean Lion’s fur for myself.”

“Your… father?” Sam’s brow creased as a dark look passed over him. Sam was an orphan who loved his parents. He would never understand Apex, a villain who’d culled his family to attain power. “You really are a monster…”

“As are you, it seems,” Apex grinned.

“I’m not—”

Sam sent his left fist up to smack against Apex’s chin, causing the villain’s head to whip back.

“—a monster!” Sam followed up with a quick right jab at Apex’s nose. “I save lives—”

Then he planted a left-fisted straight right between Apex’s eyes.

“—I don’t take them!”

Sam finished his combo with another right-fisted haymaker that had the full force of his weight behind it.

“We save… lives,” he panted. “That’s… what heroes do…”

Each of those blows had sent powerful shockwaves spiraling out into the air. Yet despite his bloody nose, Apex was grinning from ear to ear. As for Sam, he was out of breath and his fists hurt. Because for him, it had felt like repeatedly punching a titanium wall to the point where his fists were now caked in his blood.

“Hades’ balls… that Nemean Lion’s fur is a cheat relic,” Sam complained.

A coating of light golden fur had grown on Apex’s face which had protected the villain from most of the damage caused by Sam’s punches.

“Heh…” Apex wiped at the blood dripping down his nose. “Not bad… Now…”

A powerful fist smashed against Sam’s gut, catching him off guard and lifting the hero off his feet.

“Let me show you…” Apex’s right hand plucked at the empty air at his side, and as if materializing out of nothing, a great wooden club appeared in his hand. It was a weapon Sam instantly recognized as another relic belonging to their shared ancestor. “…what true strength feels like!”

Sam didn’t bother to read the many warning notices Triple-A sent him. It was clear even to Sam that meeting this next blow head-on would be the death of him. So, he rolled away just as Apex swung the ‘Club of Heracles’ down on his head, and Sam just barely escaped the blow that struck the ground he’d been standing on with such force that it was like a bomb had exploded within the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Holy Zeus,” Sam gulped. “Talk about a weapon of mass destruction…”

Between him and Apex was a crater akin to that made by a landmine’s explosion that was so deep one could glimpse the bay’s waters beyond the deep cracks at the crater’s epicenter.

“I don’t have anything that can block that… do I?” he asked.

No...

Sam sighed. “Maybe I should invest in one of the OTC’s expensive shields…”

You could just claim the Nemean Lion’s Fur for yourself. Assuming you survive, that is.

“Assuming I survive,” Sam repeated, his eyes widening suddenly.

Apex leaped over the crater he’d made and was now hurtling toward Sam with his club raised high and a murderous glint in his eyes.

“Styx,” Sam cursed.

He had only seconds to draw Herculean’s energy into the muscles of his arms, strengthening them with the explosive force he needed to perform this trick he’d used on Apex once before. Sam pushed all his power to gather around his hands, to spread across his palms, and flow into the tips of his fingers.

“Ugh…” he gasped.

It had been a while since he felt pain like this. As if his hands were on fire while power continued to build up around them. There was so much of it gathering there, in fact, that what was once invisible to everyone else had appeared as sparks of teal-colored lightning crackling across the back of Sam’s hands.

Hurry.

Apex had arrived in the air right above Sam, and he had already begun to swing his club down on Sam’s head. However, before the villain could strike him down, Sam spread his arms wide, and even this took effort because it was like lifting two hundred pounds of cement bags in each hand.

Now or never!

As Apex’s club arrived inches from his head, Sam drew his hands forward and slapped his palms against each other. Chiron had jokingly called this move the ‘Clapper’, but Sam thought ‘Shockwave’ might have been more appropriate as the shockwave that spread out from the point where his palms met was so powerful that it caused the air to explode and devour everything in Sam's field of view.

The Golden Gate Bridge’s two main cables rattled from the force of Sam’s clap. Nearby cars were flung aside too while spectators were forced to take cover from the strong pressure of air that appeared around them. Thankfully, Sam controlled the direction of his ‘Shockwave’ well enough that he avoided negatively affecting the rescue operations happening around him while still managing to blow Apex away. Not far enough for Sam to feel safe, but falling into the crater he’d created had been quite the stroke of luck because it took Apex longer to get back on his feet. Long enough for Sam to catch the villain with his proverbial pants down.

“You really should watch where you swing that thing,” Sam teased.

Sam was already mid-swing before Apex could lift his club. It was a fist that carried with it the weight of Sam’s resolve, which made it heavy enough to blow the Club of Heracles out of Apex’s grasp.

Ridding his enemy of a weapon that was clearly too dangerous to go up against had been the first step in Sam’s plan. His second step, knocking Apex out by pumping even more of his strength into his next punch—that didn’t quite go as well as he hoped. Apex slapped Sam’s fist away with a hand that was no longer human, but one covered in fur and two-inch-long sharp claws at the tips of its fingers.

“What the—”

A growl, both menacing and inhuman, reached Sam’s ears, forcing the hero’s gaze up to Apex’s face.

“Oh, right,” Sam sighed.

Apex’s scarred face had changed too. Transformed into that of a lion’s proud visage, complete with a golden lion’s mane flowing behind an enlarged face, and a wide, fang-filled mouth that unleashed a guttural growl that carried with it the promise of blood and carnage.

Sam gulped. “You’ve got a second form…”

Apex’s clawed hand swung at Sam’s face so quickly that the hero was unable to dodge the attack. He opted instead to block it with crossed arms. Only, Bulwark couldn’t withstand the villain’s savage might, and as it shattered into hundreds of ethereal shards that winked out into nothingness, Sam felt sharp claws rake across his arms. He screamed.

A second, third, and then fourth slash—all of them too quick for him to dodge—cut Sam up as easily as if he’d been made of butter, causing blood to leak out of him while taking with it the life force he needed to stay strong.

[ALERT! Your HP has dropped below forty percent. [Herculean (Δ)] has been forcefully deactivated to allow your HP to recover faster. You are losing too much blood. [Regeneration (Δ)] is working to keep you from losing consciousness.

“Stop hitting me!” Sam complained.

As another claw swipe came swinging at his gut, Sam reacted with a push kick that barely carried any of his old strength. It was just enough to let Sam tumble backward and roll away from Apex’s reach.

“Hades’ balls, that hurt,” he gasped.

Sam didn’t have time for a breather though as he could hear Apex stomping toward him already. He wobbled back on his feet while his breath remained strained and heavy.

“Hold… on,” Sam frowned. “Weren’t you… bigger before?”

Apex looked different from the monster that had chased him and his friends out of the woods of Oregon. This other version of the villain was more subdued—more human than beast.

“It won’t hurt any less when I kill you in this form,” he said in a low guttural tone that did nothing to ease Sam’s nerves.

“Yeah, well… like I said,” Sam put up his fists. “I can… do this… all day.”

Apex pounced into the air once more, and he was halfway to Sam with claws outstretched when he was struck in the side by two metallic ram’s horns that were attached to the front bumper of the Argo VII. And, although he was surprised by its sudden appearance, Sam pumped his fists into the air and yelled, “Yes~~s!”

The Argo VII rammed into the lion-man at just the right force and angle to send Apex hurtling a good twenty yards away and right into the railing that separated both sides of the Golden Gate Bridge.

“Yes!” Relief flashed across his face. “That was… awesome!”

The Argo VII—its front side caved-in and smoking from the recent impact—pulled to a stop in front of Sam. Its doors swung open to reveal Farsight on the other side of it.

“Not to ruin the mood, but that rescue cost us our engine… it’ll take me a while to repair it,” she explained. “And we don’t even have a minute for that…”

“Wait... what?” Sam’s brow creased. “Oh, right… it’s got a third form.”

The lion-man who had dislodged himself from the mangled railing behind him was no longer a man but shifting into the giant, bus-sized monstrosity that had once chased after the Argo VII. The one good thing about this latest problem though was that Apex seemed glued to the spot while his transformation remained incomplete.

“How long do we have before…” The thought of facing Apex in his hopefully final form was making Sam feel queasy.

“Not long,” Farsight admitted. “I did tell you this would be our toughest battle yet…”

Sam sighed. “Styx… it’s one problem after another.”

“Yep, but we’re in the endgame now… I’ll get this baby up and running again. You keep hitting that monster until it breaks…” As she began to shut the Argo VII’s door on him, she added, “Believe that you can beat it, Sam. I do.”