Nigh Invulnerable

Author's note:

See part 1 for blurb. Also, if you haven't already read parts 1-4, I strongly recommend doing so before proceeding.

All sensuality (on page or otherwise) takes place between characters who are eighteen or older.

***

This book, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the author (except for the use of brief quotations in a review).

This is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, products, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

***

Thirty-Nine

"Stop!" Isabella shouted as she stepped into Felix's path.

He skidded to a stop, his eyes instantly scanning the surrounding tree line for threats, and barked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she answered sharply. "Except perhaps you."

He looked back to her, the first hints of anguish invading both his soul and his expression due to the fact that he could not imagine how he could possibly have offended her.

"Would yourelax," she huffed. "I'm not mad at you, you big oaf."

"Then who..."

"We'renot upset with you in any way, babe. We love you to pieces."

"Then what..."

She smirked and said, "If you would shut up, then I could tell you."

"You have the floor my dear."

"Does the phrase 'stir crazy' mean anything to you?"

He nodded and said, "Yes, but only based on having viewed content created during this era. People from my time feel the same sort of malaise, but no one calls it that. In fact, now that I think about it, I suspect the entire population in the future is stir crazy. But much like the pandemic you suffered not so long ago, when the populace shares an experience for long enough, it becomes reductive to point it out. But if you're suggesting I'm going stir crazy, that is, pardon the phrase, insane."

"Is it?" she asked pointedly. "Then why have you run what amounts to an entire marathon in the last hour?"

"Just trying to stay in shape."

She glared at him for a moment before saying, "Well then, do you mind if I join you?"

"Of course not," he answered quickly, somewhat ashamed that he had just noticed the form-fitting sports bra and running shorts she wore.

She smiled appreciatively and said, "Think you can maybe dial it back a notch, though?"

"Anything for you," he replied with a smile.

He let her set the pace and they jogged in silence for several minutes. He had grown used to the path he used for exercise over the preceding months and knew that the circuit measured exactly two-point-three kilometers. It was his custom to occupy his brain by constantly calculating his velocity based on his lap time. When they finished their first lap in just under seven minutes, he thus automatically noted the fact that they were travelling at nearly twenty kilometers per hour. Even more amazingly, their lap times continued to tick slowly lower the longer they ran.

He said, "I never knew you were so into running."

She grinned at him and said, "You know how some people joke that they only run when chased. Well, I only run when flirting."

"Is that what we're doing now?"

"Perhaps," she replied with a grin. "I certainly wouldn't stop you if you decided to drag me into the bushes and have your way with me."

He shook his head, trying to push aside the lust which roared within him at her retort and instead stay on topic. "Not that your offer isn't enticing... but if you're not an avid runner, how are you maintaining this pace?"

"What pace?" she replied easily. "We're just jogging."

"We've run seven kilometers so far, but we're on pace for a world record time in the ten-thousand meter event."

"Really?" she asked in amazement as she slowed to a stop. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. You're sure you aren't secretly a world-class distance runner?"

"I normally hate running. How is this possible? I'm not even winded."

"I would normally defer to our lovely Yasmine on matters of hypothesizing, but it seems evident that the Conditioning might do more than just change your looks."

"That's incredible!" she enthused. "I wonder what else I can do."

"Let's hold off on any testing which might require hospitalization if my theory is wrong."

"Why?" she retorted gaily. "Do you honestly think I've had the latent athletic ability all along and I just didn't realize it? I was drafted to pitch in a kickball game at a family reunion when I was still in my twenties, and I accidentally threw the ball in the woods. I missed home plate by so much that I was accused of sabotaging the game. I suck at sports. Always have."

"Well perhaps not anymore," Felix allowed. "But I don't want to hear about you girls shooting at each other to see what happens. I assure you, even though I eventually heal, the pain is in no way diminished."

"Fine," she grumbled before brightening slightly. "But we're going to fully stock the pitiful excuse for a workout room. In fact, I think we'll move it out to the barn so we can really go all in."

"Fair enough."

They ran for a few minutes in silence before she spoke again. "We still haven't talked about why you're feeling so uneasy."

He grimaced before saying, "I love it here, honey. I love all of you."

"But?"

"But... I don't know. I just feel restless. But please don't take that as meaning that I'm not happier than I've ever been."

She smiled warmly and once again pulled him to a halt before saying, "That's why I said you were going a little stir crazy." She gestured to the countryside around them and said, "We all leave regularly, babe. Yasmine and Quinn go to work a few days a week. I regularly go into the city to check on my properties or conduct business. But you only leave when there's an emergency."

"Or when we have an unforgettable night in a luxurious hotel."

"That was incredible," she agreed. "It was also two weeks ago. And you haven't left since we returned."

"It's too dangerous..."

She cut him off with a brief kiss before saying, "I get it that you're concerned. And maybe you're right that going out carries a degree of risk. But if you stay hidden away from the world, it will eventually drive you to madness. Or you'll grow to resent us."

"That could never happen," he murmured against her raven hair as he pulled her close.

"I know," she replied confidently. "Because we won't let it happen. You need to get out, babe. For a change of scenery if nothing else. Go into Pennsylvania if you're worried about people tracking you back here."

"They could still follow me."

"Would you relax? I've thought of everything."

"We can't keep using the 'pick up a motorcycle at a building you own' dodge, honey. People will put two and two together pretty quickly."

"Give me a little credit," she huffed irritably. "The limo will take you to a tiny town about thirty minutes south of here. There's a storage facility there which isn't affiliated with any of us and was specifically chosen for its lack of video surveillance. You'll be dropped off by the side of the road to jog through a few klicks of woods with minimal undergrowth. It is unattended, you just use a code to get through the outer gate and a key opens the storage unit where you will find a motorcycle which I think will be to your liking. Then you can just... go for a ride."

He nodded agreeably and said, "And when I'm done?"

"That depends on how comfortable you're feeling out in the world. You could return directly to here if you wish, or you could return the bike to the storage unit and call us for a ride. Or, if neither of those make you comfortable, just park the bike somewhere public and call us so we can work out a pick-up. We're not suggesting you do this because we want to get rid of you, babe. We just want you to be happy."

He pulled her close and whispered, "I am happy."

"Happier, then," she murmured before kissing him tenderly.

***

Felix wandered through the massive supermarket, his mouth agape in wonder. Even after over a quarter of a year spent in the twenty-first century, he was still continually amazed at the incredible amount of food generally available. Even more staggering, the food was remarkably inexpensive. During the time of Felix's birth, humans would expect to spend significantly more than half their income on food. An outsider, or a buffoon, could argue that the existence of government subsidized housing was the cause, but that would ignore the fact that the government of his time provided far more subsidies for food than any other commodity. The inarguable fact was that the sharp decline in population over the twenty-third century had made housing plentiful but had done little to reduce food scarcity. This was hardly surprising since the leading cause of death for those unfortunate souls who were part of the devastating reduction in global population to below two billion in the years preceding Felix's enlistment had been starvation.

As he browsed the produce section, examining the dozens of fruits extinct in the time of his birth, Felix heard the din of whispered conversations around him. He glanced around to realize that at least a dozen people were staring at him with varying degrees of guile. A group of three women were taking turns glancing in his direction before turning away hurriedly amidst a bought of tittering giggles, but a boy no older than ten was staring at him in awe as he pointed with one hand and urgently yanked on the hem of his mother's blouse with the other.

"Don't point," Felix heard the embarrassed women hiss.

"It's him!" the boy exclaimed. "Fenrir!"

"Hush," the woman whispered eagerly, her apologetic gaze landing on Felix.

He felt the momentary flight urge, but then he focused on the boy's hopeful expression, and he realized how absurd things had become if he was afraid of a small child. He smiled at them and said, "It's ok."

Before his mother could react, the boy raced over to Felix and gushed, "You're really him, aren't you?"

Felix knelt down to his level and shrugged. "I'm really who?"

"Fenrir, the Invulnerable!"

"Where'd you hear that name?"

"Everybody'sheard of you. You're a superhero. When we play pretend at recess,everyonealways wants to be you."

"Hardly," Felix deflected. "I was merely in a position to help some people, and I did what I could."

"But you're bulletproof!"

Felix shook his head and said, "I wish that were true, but alas I am just a man."

"But I saw you get shot," a woman's voice said behind him. He turned to spot that the trio of young women had approached. She continued, "On the news, you got shot a bunch of times. And they said you were completely healed before you even got to the hospital."

"Surely the media would never exaggerate for ratings," he mock-exclaimed.

"But I saw it," she repeated.

"And what about the derailment?" one of her friends said accusingly. "You ran through this enormous fire, and you were fine after."

"I was wearing quite a bit of fireproof clothing," he replied lamely.

"And that apartment where those crazy meth heads nearly killed everyone?" the third woman pointed out. "Everyone else passed out almost instantly, but you were running in and out like it was nothing."

"Can I get your autograph," the boy cut in.

"Sure," Felix replied with an embarrassed shrug.

The boy glared back at his mother, clearly expecting her to have had a signature book at the ready. She sighed wearily before anxiously looking through her purse. She murmured, "I'm so sorry about this."

"It's really fine," Felix soothed. "I'm glad I could make his day."

"You've made hisyear," she assured him as she tore the top page from a notebook before handing the latter to Felix along with a pen. "He talks about you all the time."

Felix glanced down at the boy as he messily scratched out his pseudonym. "Just remember to listen to your mom, and your teachers. The real superpower is compassion and knowledge."

"I will," the boy promised solemnly as his mother nodded appreciatively.

"Can I get one too?" one of the younger women asked as the boy's mother hurried him away.

Felix noticed the gathering crowd, but merely smiled and nodded at the adoring woman. He ultimately spent the next hour answering questions, posing for selfies and signing autographs. The entire time he had a vague sensation of unease driven by the fact that he was so exposed, but he was not so delusional that he failed to appreciate the fact that he was having a wonderful time. And while the adoration was not unappreciated, what he found far more enjoyable was just talking to people. The sense of the crowd in the rural town was not at all what he had expected. Almost entirely absent was the kind of demanding obnoxiousness so frequently found on social media. Instead, he found a genuine appreciation for his meritorious acts mixed with a dusting of unadulterated worship, the latter emanating equally from young children and not-so-young women.

As the crowd began to dissipate, Felix made his way back to his motorcycle. As he crossed the parking lot, he felt a niggling of awareness which immediately put him back in a combat mindset. He slowed his steps and began to look around intently. He soon zeroed in on a van parked suspiciously distant from any other cars. Felix came to a halt and stared in the direction of the vehicle for several moments. He was able to make out three figures inside, at least one of which was holding what could be a weapon. He pulled his helmet on slowly, his gaze never leaving the potential threat. As he cinched the chin strap, the van's engine rumbled to life. Without hesitation, Felix surged toward the vehicle but before he made it halfway across the parking lot the vehicle peeled out. The driver did not bother with the labyrinthine curbs of the parking lot, instead heading straight for the main road even though it meant bouncing wildly across a natural area.

Felix begrudgingly came to a halt when it became clear he could never catch the speeding vehicle. He looked around helplessly for a moment before dejectedly muttering, "Fuck," and heading back toward his motorcycle.

Forty

"You're almost there, babe," Quinn's reassuring voice said through his earpiece. "Yasmine managed to get through to the cops on one of the burner phones to let them know you're coming. Hopefully that'll keep you from getting pulled over."

"Good," Felix grunted as he cranked the throttle, pushing his motorcycle well past two-hundred kilometers per hour despite the heavy traffic on the highway. He was weaving between cars quicker than conscious thought could comprehend. It was as though he was in a fugue state, darting into gaps before he was even fully aware they existed and then right back onto the shoulder before the brake lights before him managed to fully illuminate.

"The news says the shooter is in the main administration building," Isabella reported. "No casualties confirmed yet, but the shooting started about fifty minutes ago. No motive is known. All they know is that it's a white male and he entered the building carrying a quote, unquote, large satchel."

"Theories?" Felix stammered as he darted between the wheels of a logging trailer to find a clearer path on the right shoulder.

"It's an H.B.C.U. where a white guy decided to start shooting. Don't think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out the motive here."

"It's no wonder this country destroyed itself," Felix muttered.

"I really wish you'd taken some kind of weapon," Isabella said worriedly.

"I'll find something," he replied as he shot through the entrance to the university past the hastily removed barricades. He screeched to a stop at the picket line of police cars and dropped his bike in the grass before hurrying toward the surrounded building.

"Hold up a minute, buddy," a gravelly voice snarled. "You're not allowed in there."

Felix turned to regard a rotund, florid-faced man in a uniform festooned with medals and ribbons. He took a calming breath before saying, "Those people need help."

"Wearehelping them," the man retorted, shaking the phone he held tightly in his meaty grip for emphasis.

A shot rang out from the administration building. Felix turned to glower at the officer and said, "No, you're hoping the gunman fucks up. Now why don't you get out of my way so I can save these people?"

"If you go in there, you'll be arrested for obstruction of justice."

"Whatever," Felix grunted as he pushed past the man to study the building. It was surrounded by an uncomfortable amount of open space, and he could see where the main door had been blocked by piled up furniture. He started walking along the line of police cars as he scanned his surroundings but saw little that gave him hope. Every entrance had been barricaded and there was not even a hint of where the gunman might be holed up.

Another shot rang out and Felix knew with instant clarity based on the minute differences between the two shots that his foe was in the northwest corner of the building. He quickened his steps along the line of cop cars until he neared the south end of the building, whereupon he scampered across the dozens of meters of open ground to approach the quad. He spotted an open window on the second floor and changed course to put himself in a position to leap over the row of hedges decorating the building's façade, just barely grabbing onto the brick ledge below the window. He pulled himself up and through the opening before holding his breath and using his ears to get the lay of the land.

It was impossible for him to tell if the deathly quiet of the building was because his approach had been spotted, or if it was simply due to the tragedy which had precipitated his arrival.

"Talk to me," he whispered into the mic in his helmet, the call with Quinn having stayed connected since he had departed the villa twenty minutes prior.

Isabella responded, "The news showed you entering, but no one knows where the gunman is so..."

"Northwest corner. At least he was thirty seconds ago."

"Gotcha. We'll keep an eye on things. Just keep in mind that if he's watching the news, he knows you're coming."

"Right," Felix grunted.

"Be careful, babe. And don't forget you promised you'd arm yourself. We know you're amazing. But there's no reason to take a bunch of hits if you don't have to."

He looked around the room he had entered, quickly realizing it was an administrator's office, but saw little of value. The furniture was all made of particle board and plastic. He gave brief thought to tearing the radiator off the floor before he looked up at the prodigiously decorated walls.

"What the fuck," he murmured as he approached the wall behind the occupant's desk. There he found a cornucopia of medieval armament. He fiddled with several pieces, finding that they were obvious fakes made of lightweight malleable metal, before he came across one that appeared to be, if not the genuine article, then at the very least possibly sturdy enough to deflect a bullet. It was a kite-shaped shield which he was able to sling on his forearm. He swung his arm around briefly, finding that he could move it easily despite the fact that it weighed at least fifteen kilos. After a moment's hesitation, he also grabbed a dagger before moving to the doorway.

After a pause to once again listen to his surroundings, he hurried into the hallway and toward the corner of the building where he suspected his quarry was hiding. He knew it was risky to rush headlong through the unfamiliar building, but he also knew that a shot was ringing out every few minutes. Felix knew the last thing he could afford was caution if each shot was another innocent life snuffed out.

Nigh Invulnerable Pt. 05

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