It's A Bird! It's A Plane!

by Steve Beaulieu

  “No cops. No hospitals. I’ll be fine.”

  “The hell you will. You’ve got a hole the size of my fist in your side. Let me call an ambulance.” She pulled her cellphone out and began dialing.

  I swatted it out of her hands and groaned, the blood loss and alcohol winning the fight for consciousness. “No. No medics. I just need to heal. I heal fast, don’t you know that? That’s part of the magic of a superhero.” I felt the world lurch and closed my eyes, concentrating on breathing in and out to keep my head from spinning. “The sky is falling.”

  “Hey, Mercurial Man.” The girl’s voice grew farther and farther away, and the lure of sleep beckoned. “Wake up! You can’t pass out here.”

  “Watch me….”

  Cameron

  No one ever realizes the moment they pass out or go under anesthesia or get knocked the hell out. You don’t even know you’re out until you rouse and find the godforsaken sun streaming through a crack in the curtains straight into your eyes like a laser beam.

  “The hell?” I heard Merc as he flailed on my bed, attempting to block the sun with his hands. Just moving had no doubt sent sharp stabs of pain shooting from the wound, and a stream of swear words slipped from his mouth. Who knew the guy was a potty-mouth? “Where am I?” He managed to blink enough to adjust to the light.

  “You’re in my apartment. So, can I call you Merc for short?”

  “What?” He pushed himself into a sitting position and gave me a bewildered look. “You—you’re the girl from the park. I told you to get lost.”

  “And I told you that your injuries were far too great for me to walk away. You don’t cooperate much, do you?”

  He peered down at his side and frowned at the bandage. Some blood had seeped through the square patch. He touched the area, flinching.

  “Dammit. It should’ve healed by now.”

  “I took the liberty of fishing a broken needle or thorn out of there. I thought you would’ve pulled it out yourself, but I could see why you weren’t able to. It was hard with tweezers and a pair of pliers. It’s really unsanitary to walk around like that.”

  He groaned, closing his eyes. “What’s it to you? And why’d you bring me here?”

  “Look, Merc—”

  “It’s Warrick. But you can call me Merc. I’ll answer to either.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “Just Warrick? Or Merc, I mean?”

  He frowned, opening his eyes and focusing on me once more. “Yes.”

  “Okay, Merc, you were passing out in the middle of the park. You know… the place half the city’s derelicts escape to at night? Leaving you there spread-eagled and bleeding to death wasn’t in me. You refused to let me call the cops or an ambulance, so I had no choice. I helped you limp your way up here. It wasn’t far from the park.”

  “I gotta go.” Merc attempted to stand, but his healing had slowed to the point that his blood loss was severe enough to make him sway.

  “Whoa there, Superman. I think you’ve found your kryptonite: severe blood loss. Takes a bit longer to heal from that, I reckon.”

  “This is taking too long. Why?” He wrinkled his forehead, tapping his temple.

  “It might not help that you were drunker than a skunk.”

  “The alcohol was for the pain.”

  “Sure, it was. It also thins your blood. Probably didn’t help.”

  He scoffed. “Are you a nurse or something?”

  I shook my head. “Or something. I’m a nursing student. Not a nurse quite yet. It’s taking me longer than usual since I have to work full time and attend classes. It’s not easy.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yep. I bet it isn’t.”

  “Hey, this little nursing student saved your butt.”

  “Spare me the details. I need out of here.” He tried to stand again but immediately sat right back down, clutching his head between his hands. “Got any water? My tank’s empty.”

  “I’ll say.” I pointed to the glass sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. “Help yourself.”

  “Why are you helping me?”

  “Because you were passed out behind enemy lines.”

  He shook his head, glaring at me. My breath hitched. That steely gaze was hard to ignore. His eyes were such a light grey-blue, they looked metallic. Dark eyelashes along with thick brows lined his eyes, which stood out stark against his pale skin. He watched me apprehensively noting my hesitation.

  “What’s the real reason I’m here?”

  “Okay, look….” It was time to get real. “I have a favor to ask.”

  “What?” he groaned. Wow. Patience, anyone?

  “I need to pick your brain. Do you remember a little boy named Tony Miller?”

  His face darkened. “Don’t know ’im.”

  “Yes, you do. Think hard.”

  He furrowed his brow, his eyes glazing over. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

  “About six years ago. He was a kid. Aged twelve. You got to him too late before he caught a stray round from a bank robber on Fifth Street. You didn’t get the shooter down on time and let him escape the scene. The kid almost bled out before paramedics got to him, and that was after his father was hit in the head by a ricocheting bullet.”

  He groaned. “Oh, yeah. That kid. What about him? I wasn’t the only superhero there. It wasn’t my fault.”

  “He called out to you when he realized his father had gone down. When you saw the guy was dead, you ignored the kid. Too upset to face him, maybe? The father, he was his only parent.”

  This made him inhale sharply, but I could see it wasn’t going to get through to him.

  “And your point is? This is boring me to death. That was a long time ago, and there was nothing that could’ve been done for that kid’s father. What do you want me to say?”

  “You left him when he needed you most. He was an orphan because you were too busy showing off how tough you were for the crowd while tossing the other bank robber about. Afterward, he publicly asked for you to come visit him in the hospital. That’s all he wanted from you, but you failed to show up. He not only lost part of his leg because of an infection, he was all alone in the world. The least you could’ve done was visit him.”

  He shook his head, waving his hand in the air. “It wasn’t my problem.”

  I got in his face, risking getting shoved, but he didn’t react. He just stared back at me, hard.

  “Look. I don’t want to do this, but a lot of stuff really is your problem. I want you to fix it because you’ve caused so much more harm than you’ll ever realize. If you don’t fix it, I’m going to blab every secret you’ve ever had to the media.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you’re an alcoholic. I know you drink to keep from remembering your failures. I know you gave up on humanity years ago and only help when there’s a payment involved.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not true.”

  “Partly, it is. You’d give up on people if you could, wouldn’t you? You’ve let people die because you weren’t sure they were worth saving. I’ve written each one down, and I’ll tell them all why you did it. You were too drunk to stumble your ass out of your apartment and help. Too stinking inebriated.”

  “You think this is an easy job?” His acidic glare dug into me as he stood and peered down at me. I hated to say it, but the guy was intimidating.

  “No, I never said I thought it was easy.”

  “Then stay out of my life. And don’t follow me.”

  He took a step and wavered for a moment, cursing as he swung his gaze around, looking for his shoes. Thankfully, his jeans were still on, but his tattered shirt was gone.

  “Where are my shoes?” He demanded.

  “They’re by the end of the bed, but—”

  He snatched them up and sank onto the bed again to pull them on, tightening the strings with a brisk movement.

  “Wait… you can’t leave yet,” I pleaded.

  “The hell I can’t.” He hop
ped to his feet, but I stood between him and the doorway. His frown deepened as he dared me to not move, but I stood my ground. “You need to get out of my way.”

  “Or what?”

  He reached out, grasped me by my arms and proceeded to lift me up and place me down next to him before grabbing the handle of the door and swinging it open.

  Desperate, I called out to him. “I know about Emilia.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, facing the doorway. He slowly exhaled before he swung back around toward me. “Don’t.”

  “She said you’re better than this. That this person you’ve become, it’s not you.”

  He stepped up to me, his face darkening as his skin flushed into his signature red coloring, lighting up his eyes like flames licking the surface of a pool. I’d been watching him from a distance, but I had never seen his hot and cold powers up close. With one hand, he could set the world afire. With the other, freeze it into an eternal winter. I dared not touch either.

  “She’s just a girl I used to know. You don’t get to speak of her like you know anything about us. You don’t know anything.”

  I crossed my arms and jutted my chin out. “I know more than you think. I’ve been watching you a long time, Warrick. You’re hurting, damaged. I know you’d never let a kid wait for you to come around. I know you didn’t want his father to die. Your vanity proved you are not infallible. You just need to fix these mistakes. It’ll get right if you do.”

  He didn’t move, but his fists clenched and unclenched as he stood there, willing his heated mood to pass. As his scarlet coloring began to fade, I relaxed.

  “What do you want with me, and who the hell are you anyway?”

  “I’m Cameron Ulrich. I want to help fix the mistakes superheroes have made along the way and make them truly super.”

  “You’re barking up the wrong tree. Go ahead and tell my secrets. There’s not very much to tell, so get out of my way.”

  He gave me a firm but effective shove to the side and kept walking straight to my door. I caught my bearings just in time and called out to him. “It’s not just that,” I said. “If you don’t do this, you won’t be a superhero anymore. You turn this down, and I’ll take away your powers for good, and you’ll never be extraordinary again.”

  Warrick was already at my door, one hand on the cool surface of the knob, before he stopped. Pausing long enough to consider my words, he tilted his head to the side and firmly trained his eyes on me.

  “Why would you do something like that? And how? You’re nothing but a pathetic little nursing student.” He frowned, studying me more thoroughly. My words had gotten him to stop and reconsider. Good. I smiled. Catching Mercurial Man off guard was a feat unto itself. He had done questionable things in his lifetime. Not only had he failed to save unworthy people and inadvertently harmed innocent ones, but he had also destroyed those who got in his way. It was part of his charm, I thought. He was unfathomable. Broken. Disturbed. It was why I had chosen him to be part of my first project.

  “My powers are not as obvious as yours. They’re subtle enough that no one can pin anything on me. I can take away powers and give them back whenever I want to. I can’t use them once I take them, but neither can you. I simply hold them until I decide it’s safe for you to have them back.”

  I knew this would infuriate him, but I still held my breath as I watched him process the words. It was Mercurial Man after all. Not only did his body light up as hot as fire, but it could also turn anything to ice. His mood matched his powers to a T. He could either be a raging bull or a frigid ice king. I prayed that he would find the strength to meet himself in the middle before I had to snatch away his powers. It would either break him or make him, and I wasn’t sure which.

  “Are you kidding me? You can’t be serious.” He laughed, a maniacal one that made my blood run cold.

  “I’m as serious as a heart attack,” I said, crossing my arms and standing my ground, hoping he couldn’t see my hands shaking as I pressed them against my body. He was a large man, a good two to three feet taller than me. Any human in their right mind would wither under that stare, but I wasn’t quite human, and it was time I accepted it. It was why I’d become a nursing student, so I could help those who couldn’t help themselves. Finding some sort of atonement for those who’d had the unfortunate fate of crossing a rogue superhero’s path, like Mercurial Man, was my first task. Maybe he would find it cathartic. Or maybe he’d choose to retire without powers.

  Either way, it was a win-win for all those who were collateral damage when heroes thought themselves above the laws of humankind.

  “Let’s just say you’re serious….” He dropped his hand from the doorknob and turned to face me fully, crossing his own arms and matching my stance. A sly smile played at the corners of his mouth as he eyed me from head to toe, taking me in. I could tell he wasn’t impressed. “If you really can take away my powers and make me normal, maybe I’d want that. Did you ever consider I might choose that end, Nurse Ratched?”

  My mouth dropped open, staring at him in horror. The thought had never crossed my mind. Why would any superhero want to live without their powers? I pondered the situation and decided I would call his bluff.

  “You really think I’m that stupid? You won’t pick that kind of life. You’d wither and die so fast you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. Most superheroes can’t live a normal life without powers, or else I would be having people knocking down my door every other second.”

  I sucked in a breath, hoping my statement had jolted him out of his self-confidence. He didn’t do anything, just eyed me up and down once more with determination forming in his gleaming eyes.

  “Fine.” He sighed, dropping his arms to his side, looking as exhausted as I thought he might feel. “How about I give you an answer in a day or so? You can at least give me that, right? It’s kind of hard to decide on such a change of fate when I’m hung over and still healing. It’s the least a nurse could do for a lowly superhero.”

  Internally, I groaned. He had me there. I had to be patient. He’d tricked me into lengthening the leash I needed to hold tight. Could I just force him to decide now? I guess I could, but the way he stared with his eagle eyes honed on me like I was prey—an unusually stable expression compared to the mercurial moods he was known for—I couldn’t refuse.

  “All right. Tomorrow. Five pm, latest. I better have an answer by then or I’m coming for your powers.”

  “Oh, I’ll give you a definite answer, all right. See you on the flip side, Nurse Ratched.”

  A moment later, before I could even blink, he was gone, the door still easing closed on its hinges.

  Groaning, I sat down on my couch, shaking my head. Merc was more trouble than he was worth. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be worth it in the end. God, I hoped so.

  Merc

  “You should’ve seen them! He thought he really had me pinned, the crazy nut-job. He was begging for his mommy the moment I finished tying him up. He was practically wetting his pants!” Bolt cackled as he spun the story of his most recent conquest to the group. I leaned back in my chair, changing the bandage on my side and biting down a yelp as the tape ripped off my chest hair. The medical tape was no joke. Who needed waxing when you had a roll of this stuff stuck on you?

  Our “hangout” was more of a small, musty basement than any kind of superhero digs. In what was probably one of the worst neighborhoods in town, it was the only haven for this ragtag team of superheroes. We were all washed up, worn-out rust buckets, but let me tell you, we had each other’s backs. There was no one I trusted more than those shabby rejects.

  Listening to Bolt’s stories was oddly comforting as I taped the new bandage onto the mostly healed wound. Sifting through a stash of clothes I kept there, I found a shirt and pulled it over my head. I had limped the whole way there avoiding being seen running across the rooftops and down abandoned stairwells in an old neighborhood which was part of one of the seediest areas of New York City. We al
l had our well-used undercover routes to get there when things got heated. It was our sanctuary from the chaotic world. Most of the time, we just killed time waiting for jobs.

  “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” Bolt’s girlfriend, Carly, pressed her lips together, refusing to look his way.

  “Come on, Carly, don’t be such a stiff. We stuck to the rulebook. Sometimes we need to think outside the box so we don’t get turned around. What was I supposed to do? Let him go?”

  Carly shook her head, her frown deepening as she shoved a brush through the tangles in her long strawberry-blonde hair. She had the ability to change into a little fox and sneak into almost any place she wanted. It was a useful trait, for sometimes we had to get into places which were locked up. She could get through all sorts of small passages and unlock the door for the rest of us. Or I could just crush through the front door, but most of the time, we needed to enter quietly. She was an asset to our team of five, as were each of its members.

  We worked on various projects at any given time, whatever was thrown our way by local authorities. Or we kept to watching our pathetically outdated TV in the corner. As a washed-up team way beyond our prime, at least we could still work the local superhero circuits when we were called in. It was the only reason the cops left us alone for the most part. Otherwise, they’d probably arrest us for trespassing and all sorts of other misdemeanors and crimes.

  The Superhero Sanctum Act kept us in the green each time we did get involved. As long as we either saved a life, kept a crime from happening, or saved somebody a load of money, we were immune to the law, which was how each one of us wanted to live.

  But the older we got, the harder it was to stay under the radar, and the jobs got fewer and farther between. No one cared for slower, aging superheroes. Not on this side of town, at least. We were getting shafted on jobs, but none of us were willing to wave the white flag and call it quits.