Free Council of Evil by Andy Briggs

another shot,” grunted Basilisk as the two Typhoons scissored past in front of them. “We have to fight.”
    Jake looked at him expectantly. “What kind of weapons has this thing got?”
    â€œJust you,” Basilisk said as he reached across Jake and opened the door with a hiss. Cold air flooded the car, and Jake felt his ears pop from the sudden change in pressure.
    â€œAre you crazy?” he screamed as he saw the ocean glittering a long way down, through wispy clouds. He felt a sudden attack of vertigo and pressed himself firmly back in his seat. “No way.”
    â€œRemember the Institute? You know I have no weapons for situations like this. You have to—or we both die. And it was your carelessness that got us into this fight!”
    Jake stared at the madman, a thousand reasons why he should not leave the SkyKar rattling through his mind. But he realized Basilisk was right. He was theironly hope. He gritted his teeth, unfastened his belt, and grabbed the doorjamb to heave himself out.
    Jake felt Basilisk suddenly yank him back into his seat.
    â€œYou better download some powers before you go!” He angled the monitor for Jake to look at the range of icons on Villain.net. He thoughtfully selected several options.
    â€œNo rush,” Basilisk said sarcastically.
    A sound like fireworks dragged their attention back to the situation outside. One Typhoon was rushing toward them; a Mauser BK-27 cannon was spitting bullets. Jake could see green tracer fire streak past them before the aircraft shot overhead—the slipstream savagely rocking the SkyKar and forcing Jake’s finger onto the wrong option.
    â€œGo get ’em!” Basilisk encouraged. “They’ll be circling around for another attack run.” Basilisk pushed him toward the door.
    Jake gripped the doorjamb like a snail. “I don’t think I downloaded flying!”
    â€œI told you to be careful!”
    â€œMy finger slipped!” Jake snapped back. His fear was more than enough to trigger the powers flowing through his body. “You better keep this thing steady!”
    â€œGet on the roof then and shoot them down!”
    â€œAre you crazy?”
    â€œHunter!
Now!
”
    Jake steeled himself and edged to the door, refusing to look down. His legs felt weak as he reached across and pulled himself onto the hood.
    Moving with agonizing slowness, Jake looked around and had to shield his eyes from the sun. He saw one of the Typhoons had turned to face him, its narrow profile making it difficult to see head-on. He heard the SkyKar’s computer warn of another missile lock.
    â€œCome on!” Jake yelled defiantly as he raised his hands. He felt small and vulnerable perched on the hood, thousands of feet up, but felt the reassuring swell of superpowers inside. The fighter grew closer, and at such speed it would be on him in seconds. He raised his hands and fired.
    A terrible pain shot through his body, and with a crackling sound he saw his arms and legs extend, and his face ached as if he had been punched.
    Basilisk watched Jake flail on the hood, and saw the boy’s appearance change. He let out a deep sigh; Jake had downloaded a shape-shifting power. He had transformed into a hideous nondescript person, a side effect of trying to change without knowing
what
you want to look like.
    The Typhoon shot overhead, causing the SkyKar to rock. Jake threw his arms out for support as he slidover the smooth carbon fiber body, dangerously close to the edge. His own features snapped back painfully.
    The pilot must have noticed the mutant figure on the hovering aircraft and was stunned enough not to fire. But the second Typhoon didn’t seem to have that problem.
    â€œMissile launch detected.”
    Jake tried to sit upright—just as the SkyKar shot vertically up once more to avoid the heat seeker that narrowly skimmed beneath them.
    Jake was pressed flat against the hood from the sudden