Greenmatter: Revenge of the Maeville Ghost

by Daniel North

  I nodded to her and took off down the opposite way, in search for the others.

  The main hall of the stadium was lined with repeating concession booths, washrooms, and merchandise kiosks. In this situation, the hall was the perfect place to ambush a superhero running down the halls, which caused me to rubberneck the whole time in paranoia.

  I heard voices ahead of me and darted to the side, hiding behind a garbage can beside a bathroom.

  Four men walked into the hall, each covering the other’s blind spot. They wore heavy tactical gear, and even heavier guns along with assault rifles. I didn’t know much about guns, but they looked big enough to have maybe broken my dome. Grenade launchers?

  “There like ghosts, dude. They keep tagging us, but every time we get close, they’re gone,” One of the men said.

  “Shut up!” Another hissed, who held himself like the leader of the group. “Don’t give them more credit than their worth. They’re using standard hit and run tactics. They can’t beat us, and they know it. We’re more heavily armed, more skilled, and have more men,” he added.

  I spun from around the corner and said, “Hey, boys.” I then threw up a wall of concrete between us, while simultaneously polishing the ground perfectly smooth under their feet.

  Two of them fired at me without hesitation, almost getting me before the wall covered my face. That was close. Bullets pelted the wall, but soon started hitting things in random sweeping arks. The men cursed and tumbled. They were slipping on the near frictionless concrete.

  I sat against the wall and took a deep breath to clear my mind so I could concentrate. I needed to focus on the images of their weapons in my mind, and I needed it perfect so that I didn’t mess this up. Normally this level of concentration wasn’t necessary for me, but when I can’t see what I’m manipulating, shaping things is significantly more difficult. When I got a clear and detailed image of the guns ready in my mind, and I twisted that image.

  I came up from behind the wall and found the men with faces of astonishment. Instead of gun shaped guns, they each had a gun warped and twisted to resemble cute little bowties. I smiled at my handy work.

  My smile faded when I noticed one of the men, the leader looking one, was missing.

  To my right, there was a blur of movement and the leader struck like a coiled viper. His bow shaped gun slammed into my stomach, causing me to double over. He lifted the gun back over his head, then brought it down on my back, forcing me to the floor. I tried to crawl away but found the man’s arm snake around my neck and lift me up. I realized what he was doing and tried to pull away, but he was strong and fast, effortlessly locking his arm in a choke hold. I let out a choking gasp and pulled at his arms with all my strength. He wasn’t taller than me, but he put his hip against my back to get more leverage to pull on the choke, bending me over him and increasing the pressure.

  The leader whispered into my ear, “That was a neat trick, but like your costume, your green.”

  I choked out more gasps and could feel my face redden. I continued struggled against the leader, trying to kick my heels into his shins, but although he grunted in pain, he refused to let go. Motes of light started to dance in the corners of my vision. I strained my eyes as far as they’ll go to the right, so that I could see my makeshift wall.

  If I could just focus, I could get him with…

  I struggled off the leader’s knee, reducing the pressure he could force onto my neck. I managed to get a breath of air. With my brain getting some oxygen I could concentrate on what I wanted to do. Letting go of his arm, I punched across my body while focusing on my makeshift wall.

  A concrete cylinder jabbed out of the wall and connected with the leader’s head. The leader flinched back from the blow and let go of me to stagger away.

  I fell to my hands and knees, dry coughing as I took in a deep breath of air. In my peripheral I could see man trying to stagger back to me. I looked to him and extended my hand.

  The ground underneath him glazed over, causing the leader to slip hard on the surface and land on his back. His head bounced on the ground hard and he remained motionless where he lay.

  I stood up, holding my throat. “Show you who’s green,” I choked out.

  Most of the men had given up trying to move, while one guy still tried to get up from the frictionless ground, slipping each time.

  After I got my breathing back to normal, I started knitting my fingers together while l made the T-shirts in one of the merchandise kiosks reform into a thick cotton rope. I sent the rope looping and knotting over all the men’s wrists, then had the end of the rope shoot up to the rafters. The rope tightened up there until the men were pulled onto their feet by their hands.

  “Where did you last see the others?” I asked with a hoarse voice.

  “Wh-what?” stammered one of the men.

  I cleared my throat and tried again, “Where did you last see the others, the ones fighting you?”

  “Oh, um, we followed them this way-,” The same guy answered, but the guy behind cut him off by jabbing his heel into his calf. “I mean, fuck off bitch,” the guy said.

  I sighed and said, “Thanks, asshole,” while flicking him on the forehead with my finger.

  If they were following Harris’s men, then the only way Harris’s men could have gone was further down the hall.

  I walked past the tied men and made my way down the halls at a moderate pace. I didn’t want to go too fast, for fear that someone would hear me coming before I had sight of them. I also didn’t want to miss some sign that someone was hiding in the booths or washrooms either.

  Gunfire coughs came from somewhere down the hall and Parson and Barker ran from a stadium entrance to slide behind a concession counter.

  The concession counter was soon bombarded with gunfire, causing tuffs of popcorn and hotdog bits to fly up in the air from bullet impacts.

  I ran into the bathroom across from them and hid, waiting for whoever was chasing Parson and Barker to come in from the stadium.

  Someone laughed and walked around the corner. “Can’t hide from me little ghosts,” a man said.

  Three men walked into the hall from the stadium. One of them had the grenade launcher aimed at the concession stand, while the other two flanked him with their rifles pointed at the stand as well. The one with the launcher cocked the big gun, causing the disk to rotate, loading what was presumably a grenade into the chamber.

  I focused on the launcher and motioned with my finger for the grenade to slide out of the barrel. The cylindrical grenade slipped out of the barrel and fell onto the floor with a little metallic TINK. It rolled in a little spiral and bumped into man’s foot in the center.

  All three men looked down at the grenade, before the man in the center yelled, “get down!”, prompting the others to jump to the ground with him. They cowered on the floor in anticipation of the explosion, but it never came. One of them opened his eyes to see me standing over him holding the grenade.

  “You dropped this,” I said, then threw the grenade between the guys.

  The men shook at they tried to cower harder when the grenade landed between them.

  The grenade wouldn’t explode on them. I sheared the casing that held it inside the launcher but made sure not to damage the fuse.

  I held my hand out open palm, then made a fist, causing the concrete floor under the men to surge out like snakes that bound their arms and legs.

  “It was a trick!” the one that had the launcher said.

  I laughed and said, “No shit, sherlock,” before leaving them to check in on Barker and Parson.

  One of the men snarled under his breath, “That bitch.”

  Barker stood up from behind the concession counter, followed by Parson.

  “You made it back, I thought we were on our own,” Barker said.

  “Not if I could help it,” I said then motioned down the hall. “Come on, we need to help Harris and the others get out too. They’re pinned down at the entrance,” I
said.

  Barker and Parson nodded, then we ran back towards the entrance.

  “Christ, I’m not cut out for this anymore. Run here, run there, jump, dive, shoot. I’m sweating like a pig over a fire,” Parson said from behind me.

  “Your going to get skewered like a pig too if you start slowing down on me now,” Barker replied.

  “Some of us don’t live in a gym,” Parson mumbled.

  “Are you going to be alright?” I asked, looking back to Parson as we ran.

  “Don’t mind him, he’s a complainer. Can’t shut his mouth when he’s nervous. Main reason we don’t bring him along on any stakeouts anymore,” Barker answered.

  “Harris said we don’t do stakeouts anymore,” Parson said in confusion.

  “We work for the Maeville police department. You should be smart enough to know that we can’t afford not to do stakeouts. Harris was just being nice,” Barker said condescendingly.

  “Oh,” Parson said, a little hurt.

  We slowed down and hugged the walls as we approached the entrance. As the hall curved, we spotted Crackle and his army, Harvie Belter, as well as Harris, Hood, Frost, and Michell.

  My stomach sank at the sight. We were too late.

  Hood was on his knees with his hands behind his head with at least twenty armed men surrounding him. In front of Hood, Craft and Harvie stood by the entrance doors looking down at Hood, each of them had a hostage at gunpoint. Craft had Detective Harris, while Harvie had Lieutenant Michell.

  A ticket booth with a large glass window was beside the entrance. The door to the booth was ajar, allowing me to see Frost. He was slumped against the wall. The wall behind him was covered in blood, with smears leading down towards his body.

  “Those bastards got Frost,” Barker whispered beside me. “He was just a kid, only been on the force a couple years.”

  Craft spoke up, “That’s a good dog. Now don’t get back up or I’ll put a bullet through daddy’s little brain.” He pushed the barrel of the gun harder against Harris’s temple.

  Two men came up behind Hood and cuffed his hand’s behind his back.

  “You knew?” Hood asked.

  Craft laughed. “Of course, I knew you were the detective’s son. Don’t take me for a fool. I checked under your mask while you slept. I’m a professional I’ll have you know, and it’s important I knew where to mail a bomb too if you escaped,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  Three more armed men came in from the stadium.

  “And?” Craft asked the men with impatience.

  One of the approaching men shook his head and said, “Team four and eight were found captured in the east wing. The were in pursing the two cops but Greenmatter intervened. She and the others are likely on their way here.”

  Craft’s expression soured. He looked to Harvie and said, “Looks like your perfect plan was foiled by her again, Mr. Belter.”

  Harvie gave Craft a venomous glare. “It would have worked, with or without the Detective and his lackies showing up. The only person who foiled the plan was you. None of this would have happened, if you hadn’t tried to negotiate with Greenmatter and let her stand right fucking next to Hood,” Harvie spat.

  “Don’t blame me for your lack of foresight. Obviously, I was going to try and persuade her to join us,” Craft said without malice.

  Suddenly there was a roar of an engine from outside. Through the glass entrance doors, I could see an armoured truck bouncing up the stairway to the doors. The truck rammed through the glass doors, coming to a halt just beside Craft. Bits of glass bounced and skittered across the floor.

  “It appears my ride is here,” Craft said.

  I wasn’t going to let Craft get away. I reached my hand out, but Barker appeared to be thinking the same thing.

  “You son of a bitch!” Barker yelled, while simultaneously trying to empty his gun on Craft.

  I pushed Barker’s arm with my extended hand, causing his shots to go wide. “Stop, you’ll hit Harris!” I yelled.

  Everyone in the entrance turned to us.

  “Well that was unexpected, “Craft said with mild surprise. “I’m glad you chose to join us Greenmatter, but I’m afraid I must be leaving. It’s a shame really, you and I could have made a great team,” Craft said regretfully. He looked to the armed men surrounding Hood and added coldly, “Kill them all.”

  I threw up a wall between us and the gunmen, who opened fire the moment Craft’s mouth closed.

  Bullets pelted the wall and ricocheted around the room.

  Barker grabbed my shoulder and spun me so he could pin me against the wall. “Damn it. Your going to let Craft get away. I had him!” Barker yelled angrily at me.

  I pushed Barker away. “Think Barker. Harris was between you and Craft, there was no way you could have make that shot. I was already going to save him if you hadn’t pulled your gun. Now let the superhero do her job,” I shouted back. I then walked to the end of my wall, spun, then slammed my hands on the ground and pushed.

  The ground rippled out from me like someone threw a rock into a puddle of water. Rippling ground surged towards everyone in the entrance in two-foot waves, sending gunmen to the ground.

  I stood up and made a motion of reaching up and pulling down. Electrical and data wires broke through the ceiling tile and surged towards Hood and wrapped around him. The snake of wires then rapidly dragged Hood over the floor and behind my wall.

  Some of the men got their footing and fired at me. I raised another small wall to shield me from their fire and ducked under it.

  “Come on Detective, your coming with me,” I heard Craft say over the gunfire.

  The truck door slammed shut.

  “Group one, keeping her pinned! Group three and four, flanking positions!” Harvie called out.

  I looked to a concession booth beside me and reached for it.

  Popcorn burst out of the machine in a tentacle and lurched towards the entrance. At the end of the popcorn tentacle, bags of popcorn from inside the concession broke open spilling the kernels to the ground. The kernels popped and flew into the tentacle adding to its mass, making it a giant yellow serpent.

  “I hope your hungry,” I called, then dashed out from my little wall while sending the popcorn tentacle slamming into the group trying to fire at me. To my right, a group rapidly moved around my little wall to take aim at me. Behind that group was a large flat screen television mounted on the wall, so I brought it down on their heads.

  The men yelled in surprise a crumbled to the floor.

  The group flanking my left pulled their knifes from their belts and rushed me.

  I dropped down, and pulled my arms over my head, like I was pulling on a blanket.

  The ground in front of me shot out at a curled forty-five-degree angle over my head.

  I breathed heavily from the from the amount of quick and dirty manipulations I was doing, but I wasn’t done yet. I yelled as I slammed my hands into the angled wall, and sent it skating across the ground.

  The men who had rushed me, toppled over the stone mass as if they were hit by a car.

  I panted as I looked around for the next group of men that dared to try and take me on.

  Harvie backhanded an armed man, then tore the grenade launcher from his grip. He snarled, “What’s the point of giving you these things if you don’t even use them!” He then turned to me and pointed the launcher directly at me.

  The launcher made a THUNK sound, and a copper circle flew out of the gun towards me.

  I dived to the ground and threw up a wall, concentrating on making it as hard as possible.

  With a loud explosion, the wall blew in towards me, pieces of it slammed into my body. The force of the explosion continued, sweeping me up and sent me rag-dolling through the air. My flight abruptly ended when my body connected hard with the wall and I dropped to the ground.

  Chapter 8

  I groaned and rolled onto my back. My body felt heavy and I blinked my eyes slowly.

&nb
sp; The air was hazy with dust and bits of popcorn settling to the ground. A piece of ceiling tile swayed back and forth on the ceiling before breaking free and crumbling over the floor. Armed men were hurt from the explosion, groaning, and occasionally whimpering from their injuries.

  Looking down at myself, I was relieved to see that I wasn’t seriously injured or bleeding, but my suit was torn across my right thigh, my left calf, and across my forearms. I twisted my head so I could look at the entrance, where I saw Harvie watching me. He was holding Lieutenant Michell by the hair.

  Harvie put his Rifle to Michell’s head and said, “This is for fucking up my plan.”

  “No!”, I yelled, reaching my hand out to Michell. I tried to concentrate on Harvie’s gun. I needed to do something to it, anything. I was so dizzy. If I could just focus on jamming the gun or messing with the trigger…

  Harvie’s weapon fired. Michell’s head jerked, then fell to the floor as Harvie released her hair.

  “Why!” I cried out, watching Michell’s lifeless form fall to the floor.

  The armoured truck started to back out of the entrance, causing the twisted remains of the doors to groan and scrape against the side of the vehicle.

  “Fuck you, Greenmatter,” Harvie said, then turned to run towards the truck.

  After the truck managed to get out of the entrance, Harvie yanked open the side door and jumped in with some of the armed men.

  The truck reversed down the stairs and out of sight.

  I laid on my back and closed my eyes.

  I must have passed out because Hood stood over me and was shaking my shoulder.

  “Greenmatter, wake up. That’s it. Your safe, your alright. I’m here,” Hood said.

  “Hood?” I asked groggily.

  “Yea. Come on, we need to get moving. This isn’t over,” Hood said, then helped me to my feet.

  I looked towards Lieutenant Michell, who was lying on the ground. A thick coat of dust and popcorn had settled over her. A dusty pool of blood creeped away from her head.

  “He executed her right in front of me,” I said quietly.