The Suns of Liberty: Legion: A Superhero Novel by Michael Ivan Lowell

turned red. He started to
speak but Fiona cut him off.
         “I tell you what, since this is my birthday and I’m
feeling generous, I’m gonna give you three fine gentlemen a break.”
         And with that she was gone.
         “Don’t fucking move!” the tall one breathed to the
others. “Not ‘til we know the bitch has gone.”  Kimberly just whimpered. The
first sound she had made since Fiona had entered the house.
         And Fiona heard it of course, because by now she was
standing right behind the three thugs. Invisible.
         She held out her hands and fired a beam from each.
From her right hand, where she had more control, she split the beam so that it
penetrated the backs of two of the thugs. With her left, she sent a single,
more powerful beam into the heart of the taller, more mouthy asshole.
         And then she turned up the heat. And materialized.
         Not only did the beams burn instantaneous holes in the
three men’s chest, but they were also focused on the three guns the thugs held.
To get the angle right for all three, it took a great deal of concentration.
The effect was to incinerate the guns the instant she incinerated their hearts.
That way, even if the men’s reflex reaction in their death throes was to
squeeze their triggers, the guns would be burned to oblivion before they could
do it.
         Blood, tissue, and other gore exploded from the gaping
holes left in the men’s chests and from their severed wrists, which were burned
away along with their weapons. It sloshed all over Kimberly, who screamed in
mortal terror. She collapsed to the floor and scampered toward the corner of
the room, terrified even of Fiona.
         “I’m the Fire Fly, Kimberly. Your sister sent me here
to save you. You’re okay now.”
         Kimberly peered up at Fiona through her blood-stained
face and meekly breathed, “Really?”
         “Really.” Fiona looked down at the thugs, blood
pooling around their bodies. “Becky’s not going to be happy about this. But I
think they look better that way, don’t you?” Fiona frowned at the gory corpses.
“And its light speed, dumb ass. I move at light speed.”
         Kimberly started to cry again.
         “Be right back.”
         She flashed into the room with the young man. He was
badly hurt, and she saw fresh wounds that were still bleeding. Fiona instantly
cauterized all his cuts, which also brought him back to consciousness.
         She’d seen enough gang signs in Boston to know a
gang-related tattoo when she saw one. The Resistance had been obsessed with
tracking them, convinced the gangs in Boston worked for the Freedom Council.
Many gangs used colors, others used body art. In Boston they tended to use
both.  “You in a gang, Romeo?” Fiona asked him.
         “No.”
         Fiona narrowed her eyes.
         “I mean, yeah,” he said, bowing his head.
         She looked down between his legs. “Cold in here, huh,
big fella?”
         “Yeah.”
         It was, actually. The concrete trapped the morning’s
coolness, or they were pumping air in there on purpose to torment the poor guy.
         “Well, I’m letting you out and letting you live on one
condition. You tell your boys that they had better protect that girl in the
other room and her family. If you don’t, if I hear anything has happened to any
of them, I’ll come back here and do to you all what I’ve done to those racist
assholes in the other room.” Fiona peered right down into his eyes. “You feel
me?”
         “Yeah, yeah, I feel ya,” he grunted.
         Fiona burned away his cuffs.
         She retreated back into the den where Kimberly was
still curled into the corner. “Come on, honey. It’s time to get you to your
sister.”
         Fiona led her outside, where a few folks had now
gathered. It seemed her arrival had drawn some attention, after all. “All right,
I need you not to move a muscle,