CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-EIGHT

Vigilante No More, Part 1

“We’ll be in the Crucible’s airspace in fifteen minutes,” reported the slim, youthful-looking, brown-haired man in the crisp gray suit and fedora that marked him as one of the Wardens, a U.N. affiliated organization mandated with monitoring ‘gifted’ activities on a global scale.

Sam, who was inspecting the portable, power-dampening cell the Wardens had locked Apex in, absentmindedly nodded his head at the brown-haired warden.

“Are we sure this ‘coffin’ will hold him?” Sam asked for the tenth time.

‘Coffin’ was an apt name for Apex’s current accommodations. It was an upright ten-foot rectangular box made entirely of a rare adamantine alloy, the only metal on Earth that could disrupt and absorb various types of energy, including the kinetic energy born of physical attacks.

“The power dampeners are working just fine,” Thunder answered.

She was strapped to a seat that was closest to the coffin along the aircraft’s right-side wall.

Within the spacious interior of the Wyvern C-7 Aircraft Carrier were a small team of US Marines—all of them armed with state-of-the-art elemental hand cannons—and three ‘gifted’ wardens whose abilities Sam had learned were focused on debilitating their targets, making villains easier to capture. Like Sam, all of these people had their eyes glued to the coffin that had been locked into position in the very middle of the transport’s tubular interior.

“You don’t have to worry about him breaking out either. The air inside the coffin will keep Apex sedated for the duration of the trip,” explained the youthful-looking warden who’d made the earlier announcement.

“Warden Salvatore is implying that you should stop fidgeting and go back to your seat, Herculean.” Thunder patted the seat next to hers. “Let’s just enjoy the ride for now.”

“Right…” Sam walked back to Thunder and plopped his butt on his seat. “Sorry, I just—”

“I know, but it’s okay. Apex can’t hurt anyone anymore.” Thunder offered Sam a warm smile, one that made him all giddy deep inside while he remembered the last few hours when he had shared his secret with her.

***

While the Wardens and local law enforcement secured Apex inside the coffin, Sam had taken Thunder, Farsight, Jackboot, and Dr. Hearthstone aside and told them the truth of Apex’s tragic story.

“He’s my cousin and we’re the last of the Heracleidae, which is a name the ancient scholars gave to the direct descendants of Hercules,” Sam whispered embarrassedly. After all, it wasn’t every day one got to admit that he was related to the biggest superstar of all time while also sharing blood with one of this era’s worst villains.

None of his friends seemed surprised by Sam’s big reveal though. Not just because Sam had been weird throughout their battle with Apex on the Golden Gate Bridge, but because, in Dr. Hearthstone’s words, “I think I speak for the group when I say that you don’t have to be embarrassed. We all think you’re starting to live up to ‘his’ legacy.”

Sam blushed at Dr. Hearthstone’s praise. And, seeing his friends nod in agreement to the doc’s words even brought a lump to Sam’s throat that made it difficult to answer the inquiries of the wardens who arrived to question him and his friends afterward.

Not surprisingly, the Wardens wanted to arrest Sam along with Apex, but the other heroes were quick to come to his defense. Thunder’s influence as a former US top ten hero was particularly helpful in swaying Warden Salvatore and his cohorts away from the idea of slapping the power-dampening cuffs on Sam. It also helped that his first-ever press conference which happened as soon as the Wardens finished with him came with a promise that Herculean’s time as a vigilante was over.

“You’re going legitimate?” confirmed a female reporter from NNC.

After a glance in Thunder’s direction, Sam nodded, “Yes. I’ll be taking the ‘gifted assessment’ as soon as we’ve made sure Apex is behind bars.”

Sam gazed out into the sea of expectant faces and their cameras while doing his best to tamp down the anxiety threatening to overwhelm him. He wasn’t used to all the attention and flashing lights. Luckily, Thunder came to his rescue. She explained how Herculean had been the key player in apprehending Apex while emphasizing that he’d prioritized the safety of the civilians on the bridge and sacrificed himself to take Apex down into the San Francisco Bay where his rampage could hurt no one.

Unfortunately, this statement caused a backlash of negative comments, with one reporter stating, “Wasn’t that a reckless action that could have caused your death and the death of the villain you were trying to capture?” while another reporter linked today’s events with the past three weeks of adventure Sam and his friends had gone through. “Apart from the damage done to the Golden Gate Bridge, aren’t you also the chief perpetrator responsible for the massive property damage done to two other national landmarks in two different states?”

It didn’t surprise Sam when he noticed that this reporter’s badge had ‘The Herald’ logo splashed across it. His grandmother’s newspaper had gone completely negative on him since he’d left New York with Thunder and Farsight. Sam assumed this was her way of toughening him up—her way of showing him support in his choice to become a hero. Although this may just be wishful thinking on Sam’s part. He couldn’t ask her. He’d tried, but she’s been ignoring his texts these past few ways.

Once again, Sam was rescued by his friends. Jackboot explained that Apex had been responsible for the incident at the Chicago Water Tower while stating, “Herculean saved a little boy’s life during Apex’s attack, and it was bloody awesome how he arrived in the nick of time.”

Dr. Hearthstone then told the reporters how the team would have died inside the Endless Maze if Herculean hadn’t stepped up to save them from the clutches of Medea and her dragons.

“You may see him as a vigilante… but I know him to be a hero who’s trying his best to make a difference,” Dr. Hearthstone declared.

Interestingly enough, none of the reporters mentioned the destruction of the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, which probably meant no one knew that the team was directly connected to that incident as well. Also, Dr. Hearthstone failed to mention the involvement of Chimera, the secret organization that was seemingly hellbent on resurrecting the great horrors of the ancient world—the Gigantes. It had been decided by the team earlier on that this information was too dangerous to expose to the public. Particularly since Sam’s sister Serena was an unwitting participant of the evil organization.

“If you don’t believe doc and the rabbit, then believe me.” Farsight stepped into the line of cameras to deliver the final blow to the press. “As the last Fated Sister, I’m privy to the plans of the gods… and”—she glanced mischievously in Sam’s direction before turning her gaze back to the cameras—“I’ve seen that Herculean will do great things in the future… Probably.”

“What sort of great things have you foreseen?” asked a middle-aged female British reporter from the BBN.

“Great things don’t necessarily mean he’ll do good. It can also mean Herculean might be responsible for terrible calamities, right?” confirmed a gray-haired male reporter from the California Times.

His question pivoted the direction of Farsight’s comments in a wholly negative direction that was emphasized by a reporter from the New York Post when he asked, “Will Herculean become a calamity-inducing villain? Or is he fated to go insane like other fallen heroes such as the Jackal?”

Sam groaned after hearing Farsight’s blatant remarks, which only added fuel to the fire of ‘menace’ that had somehow become his brand. Meanwhile, Thunder, who’d noticed an ally among the press, quickly called on another Herald reporter. One who was possibly Sam’s only supporter in his grandmother’s publication besides Mr. Kim, the Herald’s editor-in-chief.

“Lara Zamora with the Herald,” stated the pretty, curly-haired reporter with piercing green eyes. “There’s been a lot of discussion about your ‘gift’ in the news and the internet ranging from super strength to indestructible skin, but an interview I had with several heroes on the scene of the Endless Maze incident claimed you were also responsible for healing them of their injuries?”

“Um, yes”—Sam gave Lara a grateful look for the leading question that allowed him a chance to clear the air regarding his gift—“I’m the one who healed them.”

He trained his gaze on the closest camera, the one manned by the NNC crew.

“I know people think I’m just an irresponsible vigilante who only causes trouble, but…” Sam took a deep breath and then gave the press what he hoped was his best red-carpet smile. “…I don’t just break stuff. My job’s to fix people… I’m a healer.”

***

Back on the plane, Sam belatedly realized that his press conference hadn’t gone as favorably as he hoped. He recalled that he’d received more skepticism than applause. It was a skepticism that followed Sam even here on the Wardens’ transport plane hours after the press conference at the beach.

Several of the marines gave Sam dubious looks after he took his seat next to Thunder. Some of them were even showing him downright hostility in their expressions. Although Sam guessed that might have something more to do with him sitting next to the gorgeous, blue-eyed, blonde hero who had just linked her arm around his.

Yep, they don’t hate me, they’re just jealous… which I guess is the same thing… Sam avoided their accusatory glares. Can’t blame them… Thunder’s way too pretty and cool to be sitting next to me… right?

“You did good at your first press conference,” Warden Salvatore said as he strolled over to stand in front of Sam and Thunder. “I appreciated your candor and how you stood your ground while the vultures tore into you.”

Short, wavy chestnut hair framed a youthful oval face with a pointy chin, thick eyebrows above caramel-colored eyes, a pointy nose, and pale pink lips which were at that moment smiling pearly white teeth down on him—and Sam couldn’t help but smile back at Warden Salvatore.

“Thanks,” Sam said. “I wasn’t sure if I made a good impression or not…”

“Oh, you definitely made an impression,” Warden Salvatore replied.

“Not all of it good,” Thunder chimed in.

“Yeah, probably.” Warden Salvatore chuckled. “Well, at least Captain Malarkey’s been forced to rescind his order to have you arrested on sight. That’s what I call a good result.”

Warden Captain Malarkey had been after Sam since the incident in Brooklyn where Farsight’s former teammate Red Weaver was attacked in her home by the Trickster. Sam and Thunder had been there when it happened, leading Warden Malarkey to draw a conclusion about Sam that tied him to a series of recent incidents involving the Trickster. He’d been wanting to arrest Sam ever since for what he’d deemed were ‘vigilante activities’ but lacked the evidence to do so.

Sam, who was just remembering Warden Malarkey’s accusing glare, let out a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods for small favors.”

“As long as you stick to your promise about going legitimate,” Warden Salvatore reminded him.

It took Sam another moment to keep his anxiety in check, but he eventually nodded. “Yeah, I’ll apply for a gifted assessment as soon as Apex is secure in your secret prison.”

At the mention of this secret prison, Warden Salvatore’s face turned to the monitor directly above Sam’s and Thunder’s seats. It showed a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean. In the distance was an island that was growing closer and closer with each second.

“We’ll be at the Crucible soon,” Warden Salvatore stated. “You two can relax for now.”

“What’s it like?” Sam asked.

“The Crucible?” Warden Salvatore’s expression darkened slightly. “It’s a state-of-the-art prison built inside the crater of an active volcano… It’s the one place in the world I wouldn’t want to visit as often I do.”

“So, it’s the worst place on Earth…” Sam’s gaze drifted to Apex’s coffin. “I guess that’s where he deserves to go…”

Sam couldn’t help but feel guilty that he was throwing his only living relative apart from his sister and grandmother into a prison that was basically a high-level dungeon. It made him wonder if this was the right choice. Was this what it meant to save someone, and if it was, then why did it leave such a bitter taste in his mouth?