Mizzy stopped, staring at them. I cursed and yanked her along after me. Obliteration stood on the next rooftop over.
I could see him easily now, striding among the flames, trench coat flapping behind him. He had a narrow face with long, straight black hair, spectacles, and a goatee. He was the exact sort of person I’d learned to avoid in Newcago, the sort of person who didn’t look dangerous until you saw his eyes and realized that something vital was missing in there.
Even for an Epic, this man was a monster. Though he’d originally ruled a city like many top-tier Epics, he’d eventually decided to destroy his city completely. Every single person in Houston. He was an indiscriminant killer. I was beginning to think some Epics might be redeemable, but this man … not a chance.
“Take up position over on that ledge,” I said to Mizzy. “Be ready for instructions. You do demolitions for the team?”
“Sure do.”
“You have anything on you?”
“Nothing big,” she said. “A few brick-oven-blenders.”
“A few … What?”
“Oh! Sorry. My own name for—”
“Whatever,” I said. “Get them out and be ready.” I lowered my rifle and sighted on Obliteration.
He turned to glance at me.
I shot.
He teleported in a burst of light—as if he’d become ceramic and then exploded, shards of his figure spraying outward like a broken vase and scattering along the ground.
Preemptive teleportation. Worked just like I’d read.
Mizzy ran the direction I’d pointed. I knelt, rifle to shoulder, and waited. The rooftop where Obliteration had stood continued to burn. His primary power was heat manipulation. He could drain anything—people included—of heat with a touch, then expel it either in an aura or by touching something else and transferring it.
He’d melted Houston. Literally. He’d spent weeks sitting in the center of town bare-chested like some ancient god, drawing heat out of the air, basking in the sunlight. He’d stored heat up, then released it all at once. I’d seen photos, read the descriptions. Asphalt turned to soup. Buildings burst into flames. Stones melted to magma.
Tens of thousands dead in moments.
Well, from what I remembered of my notes, I should have a little time before he could reappear. He could only use his teleportation powers every few minutes, and—Obliteration appeared beside me.
I felt the heat before I spotted him, and I spun that direction. Sweat prickled on my brow, like I’d stepped up to a trash can fire on a cold night.
I shot him again.
I heard half a curse from his lips as he again exploded into shards of light. The heat vanished.
“Be careful, David,” Tia said in my ear. “If he gathers heat and pops up right next to you, that aura could overcome your Reckoner shield and fry you before you get a chance to shoot.”
I nodded, scrambling away from where I’d been before, rifle still to my shoulder and sights lined up. “Tia,” I whispered over the line, “do you have access to my notes?”
“I’ve pulled those up, along with notes from the other lorists.”
“Aren’t his teleportation powers supposed to have a recharge time?”
“Yes,” she said. “At least two minutes before—”
Obliteration popped into existence again, and this time I caught him coming, like light coalescing. I had a bullet heading that way before he’d even completely formed.
Again the teleportation saved him, but I’d known it would. I was just a diversion. In truth, I had no idea how we were going to kill him, but at least I could inconvenience him and prevent him from killing innocents.
“My notes are wrong,” I said, sweat trickling down the sides of my face. “There’s barely a few seconds’ delay between his teleports.” Sparks. What else had I gotten wrong?
“Jon,” Tia said over the line. “We’re going to need a plan. Fast.”
“I’m thinking of one,” Prof answered in a staccato voice, “but we need more information.” Across on the other rooftop, where Obliteration had been attacking before teleporting to me, Prof climbed up and took cover behind some rubble. “David, when he ports, does he automatically take everything touching him, or does he have to specifically choose to bring things like his clothing?”
“Not sure,” I said. “Information on Obliteration is scant. He—”
I stopped as he appeared beside me, reaching his hand out to touch me. I jumped, swinging around, feeling a wave of heat wash across me.
A gunshot fired, and Obliteration ported just before he touched me. As before, he left a glowing outline hanging for just a second behind him. The figure exploded into fragments that bounced off me, then vaporized to nothing.