The Indestructible Man Read Online Free Page B

almost gagged on his own saliva when he realized it was Romulus’ father. Colonel Jackson Wayne took a long look at him, one eyebrow raised to a sharp, silvery point. Bobby had always feared him; he was an ex-Marine, the tallest and thickest man he’d ever seen. When he was twelve Jackson Wayne’s mere presence had been enough to keep him far from Romulus. He grabbed his wheels, ready to flee if the Colonel recognized him. But Jackson Wayne only nodded hello as he passed, climbed the wooden steps to the stage, and disappeared behind the curtain.
     
    “A little jumpy, aren’t you?” Brooks said. He slouched low in his seat so that only the top of his head was visible from the entrance. He did not expect trouble, but saw no point in taking chances. “You sure all this is worth it just to see a girl?”
     
    “Don’t worry about me,” Bobby said. “I’m fine.” He pulled down the brim of his cap to hide his face, and waited for the crowd to filter in.
     

     
    Bobby dozed through the opening acts , and wondered how anyone could ever sit through them. Brooks was impressed with Eagle-Eye’s skill with the bow, especially when the archer knocked several arrows at once and shot a perfect smiley-face in the target. But they paid little attention to Mind Over Matter, an act in which the hairy, overmuscled strongman bent metal bars of varying thickness, and the caftan-clad Mentalist “unbent” them with his mind. Bobby tried to stay awake while he waited for Romulus to take the stage.
     
    When the emcee welcomed the Indestructible Man, Bobby felt tiny pinpricks over his body. The applause from the jammed-in spectators was monstrous. When Romulus emerged from behind the curtain, Bobby felt the terrible grinding pain radiate from his mangled ankles up to his hips.
     
    Bobby found Romulus’ act unremarkable. First he stood against a canvas target, blindfolded and holding a cigarette, while Eagle-Eye knocked three arrows to his bow, aiming for Romulus’ heart; all three bounced off him harmlessly, clattering on the varnished wood. Romulus dropped the cigarette and held his chest, gasping and staggering forward one painful step at a time. But the audience had caught on, and after his first step most were laughing. During the first light wave of applause Bobby noticed Brooks clapping too, and elbowed him in the ribs.
     
    Next, the crew wheeled a gallows onto the stage. Romulus stood on the platform, a noose around his neck, reading from “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” as the floor fell out from under him. Though his throat was constricted and he could barely get the words out, Romulus kept reading as he swung. The audience loved it; Bobby thought it was pretentious.
     
    After the stagehands cut Romulus down, they bound him to a tall wooden post, a pile of kindling at his feet. “Don’t try this at home, folks,” he said as they lit the fire. He thrashed about for a few minutes as the flames engulfed him, a faint shadow in the raging fire, then his head dropped and he hung limply from the post. A man next to Bobby stood up, his eyes wide, one hand over his mouth. Feigning panic, the stagehands put out the blaze with fire extinguishers and rushed to pull him down. His clothes were charred and peeling away in places, his skin covered with soot and ash. They lay him on the stage, where he sat up like a zombie. Again the crowd cheered. Idiots, all of them, Bobby thought—clapping and hollering when Romulus was never in any real danger.
     
    After he wiped the soot from his face and hands with a wet towel and slipped a terry robe over his blackened clothes, Romulus thanked the audience for coming out. Suddenly a creaking sound came from the rafters, and Romulus slowly looked up in dread. “Oh no—not again,” he said, voice quivering. The grand piano seemed to fall in slow motion, driving his head down between his shoulder blades, his ribs into his hips. The piano exploded into slivers, shards of varnished wood