Hero Force United Boxed Set 1

by Baron Sord

  “You know,” I smiled, “That’s a really good point. I’m sure you have a million screaming fanboys already.”

  “Maybe not that many,” she grinned. “What I need is my own videos.”

  “I thought you said you had some.”

  She shook her head, “I wish. I told you, all the videos online are from other people. I don’t have any of my own because I can’t record myself.”

  “Maybe you should get someone to follow you around and capture video for you. I’m sure there’s plenty of cameraman willing to do it for free.”

  She smirked, “Who, you?”

  “No way. I don’t want the exposure.” Thinking about it, me being Lady Liberty’s cameraman would mean I would see Kristy all the time. I’d be an idiot not to do it. “You know what? Yeah, I’ll do it. I’ll be your cameraman sidekick. Why not?”

  “Oh,” she laughed. “I wasn’t asking.”

  Slightly disappointed, I said, “Then who’s going to record you?”

  “If it happens, it happens. I’ll take it as it comes. That’s how I’ve always lived.” She sighed, “Anyway, I should probably get to work.”

  I winked at her, “Wouldn’t want to miss out on those tips.”

  “Nope,” she smiled proudly.

  I was bummed she had to go. I sighed, “Well, thanks again for helping out with Arnold.”

  “Any time.”

  “So, uh, Kristy?”

  “Yeah?” Her eyes brightened.

  “Any chance I can get your phone number, in case, I don’t know… in case… whatever?”

  Her eyes dimmed. She looked around for a moment, thinking. Then she touched my elbow and said, “You’re nice, Doug. You really are. But I don’t want you getting the wrong idea. I like to fly solo, you know?”

  Trying to hide my growing disappointment, I said randomly, “Like Han Solo.”

  “Not like him,” she grinned. “He always has Chewie by his side. Those two are attached at the hip all the time!” She laughed, “That’s not even close to solo. I mean, there’s no telling what they get up to in the Millennium Falcon when no one’s around, right?”

  “Uhhh…”

  “You know. Weeks and months alone together in hyperspace with nothing to do but each other? Please. Everybody knows how that story ends.” She waved a dismissive hand and smirked, “Who knew male-male furry love was a thing way back in the 1970s when they made those movies? Han and Chewie totally have ship written all over them.”

  I shook my head, “Uhhh… Han was into Leia, remember? They had a kid together. And he didn’t have fur.”

  “Pfft,” Kristy snickered. “Leia was Han’s beard. You know Han and Chewie have a secret fur baby they keep secret.”

  At that point, I lost the ability to speak because my brain was on the verge of breaking.

  Kristy had just deconstructed the most important love triangle in Star Wars. If I were to accept her theory, it was the triangle between Han, Leia, and Chewbacca, not Luke.

  That could not possibly be correct.

  Then again, you never knew what Chewie was saying, but Han always did, and Chewie sure seemed to berate him a lot. Sort of like an old married couple…

  No! Just, no!

  Wait, was Kristy onto something?

  In truth, it didn’t really matter.

  What did matter was that Kristy was literally perfect. Perfect because of her looks, her personality, her drawing skills, her love of the same things I loved, and her annoying attitude, which made her all the more perfect because she so obviously wasn’t. She was never fake. She was always 100% genuine and called it like she saw it.

  “Anyway,” she sighed. “I fly solo solo. Just me. No one else.”

  If there was a God, he was obviously an asshole for dangling perfection in front of me in the form of Kristy, only to rip her away from me every time. Or, maybe Satan ran things. Or neither existed and the universe was a heartless bitch. To wit, Kristy’s continuous disinterest in getting to know me.

  She shook her car key in her hand.

  I could tell she was gearing up to go. I blurted the first thing that came to mind. “You said you fly solo. Can you fly? Like, really fly?”

  “No. You know what I mean. In case you don’t, I mean I work alone.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I sighed and hung my head. “I get it.”

  “I should go.” Kristy said and opened her car door.

  I didn’t want her to leave. No, I never wanted her to leave — but not in a serial killer way. In a loving way. I sighed in frustration, “Hey, what if… I don’t know, what if I ever need your help again? You’re pretty badass with those lightning bolts of yours.”

  She dropped into the driver’s seat and smiled, “If you ever need to find me, use the Bat Signal!” She laughed and her cyan eyes lit up the entire parking structure. “Bye, Doug!”

  Those eyes got me every time.

  She closed the car door and started the engine.

  While she backed out of the space, I hollered, “What Bat Signal? You don’t have a Bat Signal!”

  As she drove off, she threw a wave out the window but she never looked back.

  Why was I not surprised?

  Because nobody would ever be lucky enough to get a woman like her.

  Nobody.

  Least of all me.

  What a disappointment.

  —: Chapter 31 :—

  “I fly solo?!”

  Kristy snorted to herself as she drove her Audi away from Doug and the hospital.

  “What kind of stupid excuse is that?! I never fly effing solo! I always have a boyfriend. Ugh! Why did I lie like that?”

  Kristy knew why.

  K-Cray was to blame.

  Because Bouncing Brock.

  Bounce, bounce, bounce.

  Dead, dead, dead.

  Ever since she’d killed him, no, murdered, she’d been compartmentalizing like crazy. Sometimes, like now, it just came out.

  How could she’ve done that to him? What an effing mistake!

  Back at the hospital, it’d taken everything Kristy had to hide who she really was from Doug and everyone else.

  The murderess of Bouncing Brock.

  That’s who Kristy really was.

  The K-Cray murdereress who’d kicked her boyfriend over an effing cliff!

  Doug didn’t need that drama in his life!

  Look how nice he was!

  He was always so kind. Almost innocent. At the hospital, he’d been like a little kid in love.

  He didn’t need an effing murderess!

  And poor Arnold!

  His parents were so nice too! They were acting like Doug was Arnold’s brother or something.

  Like a real family.

  Ugh! Doug and his friends were so effing normal! There’d been a minute there where she’d bought into the dream and thought she could date someone like Doug and have a normal life for once in her life.

  But Kristy wasn’t normal.

  She was half K-Cray.

  Doug and them didn’t need someone like effing K-Cray messing up their lives. They were better off without her around.

  She’d just ruin things!

  Kristy was so angry with herself on the drive back home to Oceanside, she never noticed any Disaster Vision the whole way there. Her thoughts wouldn’t leave her alone.

  She never should’ve told those news crews at the fire that she and Doug were partners.

  Bad idea!

  She and he could never be a team!

  The good guy and the murderess team up?

  As if!

  As effing if!

  Yet another idiotic K-Cray mistake.

  At some point, on an empty stretch of unlit and gloomy freeway, Kristy swore she heard a farting Harley following her Audi in the darkness.

  For one horrifying second, she was convinced it was Ghost Rider Brock with a flaming skull, cackling maniacally behind her. When she turned around, he’d be riding a wicked black Harley from Hell
complete with the flaming motorcycle wheels, and swinging a spiked flaming chain in the air like he was going to lasso Kristy’s soul out of her body and take it straight to Hell where she deserved to spend eternity burning in the cauldrons of boiling oil with the other murderers, stabbed over and over by the evil demons with their wicked pitchforks.

  The farting grew louder.

  It wasn’t her imagination.

  The Harley was right behind her!

  Fearing the worst, Kristy checked her rearview with her heart in her throat.

  Fart! Fart! Fart!

  Kristy cringed when she saw the bright headlight.

  No!

  Kristy didn’t want her immortal soul going to Hell!

  The Harley passed her Audi on the next lane over.

  No flaming wheels or cackling skulls.

  Just a regular Harley.

  Not that it made her feel any better.

  She’d have to carry her Brock guilt to the grave, where he’d be waiting in the bottom dirt to claw her from underneath, jam a handful of dirt and worms in her mouth to silence her screams, and drag her down to Hell.

  Burn, bitch burn!

  Kristy shivered and pushed the images away, praying that didn’t actually happen whenever she died way, way, way in the future.

  One thing was for sure.

  Doug didn’t need to get dragged into this effing Brock shit with her.

  It was her burden to carry.

  Hers alone.

  —: o o o :—

  Had Kristy Crawford watched all of the KOSD-6 videos about Doug Moore two days earlier, instead of only the first, she would’ve learned he was wanted for felony assault at the very least.

  But Kristy had not watched those videos.

  Such is the way of things in the age of information overload.

  And, Disaster Vision.

  After getting super-powers, Kristy never had time to surf every last video she found. She was too focused on changing the future, not reliving the past.

  The past was too painful.

  Bounce, bounce, bounce.

  Dead, dead, dead.

  Hell, Hell, Hell.

  —: Chapter 32 :—

  “Am I getting taller?”

  Kristy asked herself when she stopped in front of her bathroom mirror on Wednesday morning. She was on her way out the door and had only planned to check her face before leaving.

  “Doug’s taller. Am I taller too? Or is it just the shoes?”

  She kicked off her low heels and looked in the mirror.

  “Probably the shoes.”

  Today, she didn’t wanna be tall.

  She went and got flats before walking out of her apartment to her Audi. Drove to quaint downtown Encinitas where all the cute shops were. Parked on South Coast Highway near Treasure Trove Comics & Gaming.

  The bell over the door jingled when she walked inside.

  Treasure Trove was exactly what the name suggested. A wall-to-wall explosion of nerdy loot. Colorful comic books and action figures on one side, role-playing games, countless mini figs, and painting supplies on the other.

  Near the shelves of new comics, two men were arguing.

  “No, no, no. Hulk always beats Thor in a fight,” one said. “Unlimited rage strength.”

  “Hello! Mjolnir! Hammer of the Thunder God!” the other protested, as if that ended the argument.

  The first guy laughed, “What part of unlimited don’t you understand? Unlimited means no limits. Not some limits. None! Not a one!”

  The other guy chuckled, “What part of Thunder God don’t you understand?”

  Kristy smiled to herself. This was exactly why she came here.

  The customers loved comics as much as she did.

  “Hey, Kristy,” said Howard the nerdy owner from behind the front counter. Like always, he wore some sort of Marvel or DC T-shirt and jeans, his uniform. And eyeglasses. Howard had that innocent dad vibe going, sort of like Jeff. That was probably why Kristy felt comfortable around Howard too. He never hit on Kristy.

  “Hey, Howie,” Kristy said. She was dressed like always when she came here. Big dark sunglasses, hair in a grungy bun, no makeup, a baggy T-shirt, and the baggiest mom jeans she had. When she went into Treasure Trove, she didn’t wanna encourage any customers to hit on her. As far back as Kristy could remember, men’d been paying attention to her. Too much attention.

  Even when she was little and they… weren’t.

  Ew.

  Some people thought being attractive was the best thing ever.

  News flash, it wasn’t.

  Men always wanted something from Kristy.

  Okay, they gave her stuff first.

  Only because they wanted something back.

  Everybody knew what that was.

  When Kristy’d been a boy-crazy teenager, the constant attention’d been… well… it had been the best thing ever. Until Kristy realized that men will be men.

  In other words, dogs.

  Mean dogs.

  Especially the best looking ones.

  Kristy was over them.

  No more abusive Brocky dogs for her.

  No more men, actually.

  Kristy was taking a break, starting today.

  Howard said, “What’s the haps, Kristy?”

  “Same old, same old,” she smiled. “Just came in for my pull-list.” Kristy’d been buying Wonder Woman without fail ever since she could remember. Lately, she’d been buying a lot of She-Hulk, Spider-Woman, Batwoman, Catwoman, a few other books, and maybe a bit too much Harley Quinn. Harley was K-Cray’s favorite, obviously.

  “Got it right here for you,” Howard said, turning around behind the counter to pull out a long box from the row of long boxes on three shelves. It was stuffed full of other customer’s pull lists. He flipped right to Kristy’s comics and pulled them out. Set a thick stack on the counter in front of her. “You haven’t been in in a while.”

  “Sorry,” Kristy winced. “I’ve been really busy.”

  “Now you’re here,” he smiled optimistically. “Hey, have you heard of the new Lady Liberty comic?”

  “Uh uh,” Kristy shook her head. She still hadn’t told Howard or anyone at Treasure Trove she drew it. It felt too much like bragging or something. Now with her actual powers, she’d probably never tell them.

  “Oh, you’ll love it.” Howard turned around and grabbed a copy of Lady Liberty #2 off a stack. “We just got in issue two today.” He set it in front of her. “There’s an epic battle between Lady Liberty and this guy Rhinock. Part rhino, part octopus.”

  “Really?” Kristy said, pretending ignorance.

  “That’s my kind of villain,” Howard grinned. “Ever since I first read TMNT #1 back in college, I’ve always had a thing for mutant animals, you know?”

  “I do,” Kristy grinned. “Turtle power, right?”

  “Right,” he laughed. “Anywho, the rest of Rhinock’s Terror Trio is this guy Grizzlion and another guy Cygor.”

  “Cy-Gor?” Kristy said, not wanting to correct Howard.

  “Did I say Cy-Gor?”

  “You did.”

  Howard blinked furiously behind his glasses for a moment, looking upward and thinking. Nodded dramatically, “Right, right. I meant Tygor. Cy-Gor’s first appearance was Spawn #38. McFarlane even did a big fig back when, which, now that I think about it, came out before the comic appearance. When was that? Ninety-four? Ninety-five?” Embarrassed and glowing red, Howard shook his head and laughed, “That was well before your time. Anywho, take a gander.” He tipped his head at the Lady Liberty comic. “You might like it.”

  Kristy paged through it. This was so awkward. “Wow, it’s really nice,” she said, feeling inane for complimenting her own comic.

  “I can’t figure out who’s drawing it,” Howard said.

  “It says Lady Liberty,” Kristy said without having looked at the credits, obviously.

  “That’s a house name,” Howard said dismissively. “I mean who is it
really? It’s too good not to be somebody famous. But I don’t recognize the style. Do you?”

  Yeah, mine, Kristy thought. “Not at all,” she smiled. “Maybe it’s some Italian artist we’ve never heard of. Or French.”

  “Could be,” Howard said thoughtfully. “Anywho, I thought you might like the story. It’s exactly the sort of thing you read.”

  “Why not?” Kristy smiled. “Add it to my list.” She didn’t wanna be rude. She set it on top of her stack of pull-list comics.

  The door jingled as someone came in.

  “Welcome to Treasure Trove,” Howard said automatically. “If you have any questions, please ask.”

  “Will do,” the man said in a deep voice. With daylight behind him, he was nothing but a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette.

  For a second, Kristy’s heart stopped.

  Was that Doug?

  The silhouette looked exactly like Doug.

  As the man walked past the darker background of shelves and walls covered in comics, Kristy was able to see it was not Doug. Or Brock.

  But he was totally muscly. Wore a tight T-shirt that showed off his muscled arms, tight jeans that showed his muscled ass, and black boots.

  He looks delish, K-Cray thought.

  Hush up, Kristy thought. Taking a break from men, remember?

  As if, K-Cray taunted.

  Muscle Man walked to the nearest shelf-rack of comics and picked something up to read it. The new issue of Venom. He was so tall, his head, shoulders, and muscled chest were visible above the shelf.

  He caught Kristy looking and flashed a devilish smile.

  Gaga gorgeous! K-Cray gushed.

  Kristy rolled her eyes and turned to face Howard.

  He said, “Are you ready for me to ring you up?”

  “Please,” Kristy nodded. “I have to go.”

  Before I do anything stupid, she thought.

  After paying, she went outside to the sidewalk, heading toward her Audi.

  “Hold up!” a man’s voice called behind her.

  Kristy looked over her shoulder and saw Muscle Man jogging toward her. She heaved an annoyed sigh and kept going.