Don't Be a Hero: A Superhero Novel Read Online Free Page B

him. She didn’t suppose it would help to tell her she found him about as attractive as she found any man. Kate probably wouldn’t be any happier to know her husband was running around with a lesbian. It had taken Solomon long enough to come to grips with that himself. He was old-fashioned that way.
    Kate opened her mouth to speak, and it didn’t look like it was going to be pleasant. But by some miracle, Solomon chose that moment to come back into the room. “Oh, there you are, dear,” he said to Kate. He must have sensed something, because his back stiffened. He glanced at Niobe, then back to his wife.
    Kate turned her icy stare on her husband. Niobe recognised that look. It was the same one Gabby gave her during their argument an hour ago. Kate’s lips twisted as she studied his new attire. He’d exchanged the pyjamas for full costume, and Niobe wondered if he was as grateful for his mask as she was for hers.
    The Carpenter’s outfit was all forest greens and autumn reds. A new hat—sleeker and more modern than the tattered one on the wall—sat low across his eyes. A brown half-mask left his mouth uncovered, and a cloak hung over his left shoulder, stretching down to his elbow. Poking out the bottom was the handle of his hatchet, hanging from a loop in his belt.
    The costume still fit well. For some reason, it was the only thing she saw him in that ever seemed to suit him. Anyone else would look ridiculous in something so damn rustic.
    Too bad his appearance did nothing to improve the mood in the room. It was lucky Kate’s looks couldn’t kill. More than one person had lost limbs from their superpowered spouse’s misdirected eye beams.
    “I’ll get the car warmed up,” Niobe said. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and squeezed past the couple, while Solomon did his best to look anywhere but his wife.
    Superpowered combat and interdimensional alien attacks she could handle. But there was no way in hell she was putting herself into the middle of a marital spat. She’d had enough of that already.

3: The Night Belongs To Me
    The Pilgrim
Real name:
Gordon Whitman
Powers:
Teleportation.
Notes:
The youngest member of the Manhattan Eight. When the radiation of the Los Alamos explosion struck him, he became metahuman and instantly teleported to Santiago, Chile. He was consequently assumed dead until several weeks after the incident when he returned to the US. Although he occasionally engaged in direct combat, his main role in the Manhattan Eight was to insert other members into danger zones.
    —Notes on selected metahumans [Entry #0008]

    Solomon finally emerged from the house a few minutes later, looking calm but walking a bit too briskly away from the front door. He got in the passenger side and glanced at Niobe behind the wheel.
    “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to let a woman drive,” he said.
    She pushed back the lapel of her trench coat to reveal the butt of her gun. “Try feeding me that line again. Try.”
    He grinned and pulled his hat low over his eyes. Niobe took a swig of water from her canteen, then pulled the choke out and gave it some pedal.
    The car was a black 1949 Ford two-door sedan. Or it had started out that way. Gabby had made so many modifications to the thing Niobe doubted there was an original piece left. The dashboard was outfitted with a dozen knobs and levers for gadgets that might come in handy. A police radio scanner was tucked under the dash on the passenger side, tuned to the local Met Div frequency. It was silent now. A little strange, but not entirely unexpected. Few metas got themselves into trouble with the law these days. They must’ve been smarter than her.
    The streets were deserted. They made their way out of the Old City the usual way, taking the barely-policed route through the bomb-damaged streets to the east and then travelling south past the Mangere Inlet. The roads looked worse than they were. The cracks and collapsed buildings that remained in place