by C. T. Phipps
“Right back at you, Lance. Where’s the exit?”
Lance took a step aside. “Just go through the mist. A word of caution, though, these mists are made of the same substance all ghosts are made of: memories. You’ll have to pass plenty of them to get through. Ones which are better left behind.”
“I never left my memories behind. Even before I got the Reaper’s Cloak.”
Lancel kept his expression even but I could tell he understood. I walked past him into the mists and hoped to God I didn’t go crazy.
At first, it wasn’t all that unpleasant. The mists weren’t all that cold, being somewhat cool at best, but gradually became cooler as I progressed through them. I heard voices in the mist, too, of my brother, parents, and others who’d influenced my life.
“You’re a disgrace, Gary,” my parents said. “Keith almost ruined us. Did you have to finish the job?”
“You get more like me every day,” Shoot-Em-Up said. “Man, if I’d killed the supervillains you did, I would have gotten twice the money from my book deal.”
“If you wanted to honor me, you could have looked after my daughter,” Keith said, whispering. “You’re going to make her life harder.”
“We’re dead because of you,” a bank teller whispered. “All of us died because you made us a target by being a supervillain.”
“You could be redeemed,” Mandy said.
“You could be a hero,” Gabrielle said.
“You’re just going to drag down those you love instead,” Cindy said.
I shook my head. “Try harder. I know all this.”
The mists took me up on the challenge and I was soon reliving my past. It was five years ago and I was rocking the Kurt Cobain look. I had on jeans and a white t-shirt underneath a black jacket. I was smoking a cancerless cigarette while sitting on a black Honda Accord hood, parked on a cliff overlooking Falconcrest City. The smog and lights blotted out the stars, but I could see the moon above. Mandy was sitting beside me, wearing a black bra and no shirt with her black blue-jeans barely pulled up. The two of us had just had sex in the back of her car.
“So, History, huh?” Mandy said. “You want to be a teacher?”
“I wanted to pursue my Doctorate in Unusual Criminology and be the sort of asshole who writes books and attends talk shows to explain why supervillains do what they do. That doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen, though.” I’d been rejected from the program, even though I had more than enough credits. The fact I didn’t have a Masters in Unusual Criminology shouldn’t have prevented me from pursuing a higher education but things hadn’t worked out that way.
“I think they realized you were the guy who arranged for hackers to break into the student loan records and delete everyone’s debt. The FBI is still trying to recover those files.”
“My hacker is the best,” I said, smiling at her. “There’s nothing they’ll be able to prove.”
“So, going to continue the good fight?” Mandy smiled. “Become some masked online vigilante?”
“Sadly, my days of Guy Fawkes masks and activism are over,” I said, shaking my head. “They’re onto me now so I’d just wind up getting caught. Better to quit while I’m ahead.”
That and my niece was starting her freshman year and I didn’t want to ruin her chances of getting a decent life. Despite it taking every cent my parents had, they’d managed to look after Keith’s daughter after her mother abandoned her. Tina Karkofsky had been raised by Kerri and had a bright future ahead of her.
I wished her luck.
“Smart,” Mandy said, not really sounding all that impressed.
“How about you?”
Mandy stared forward. “My schedule is surprisingly clear. If I had plans for doing anything after college, they’re over now.”
I nodded, deciding now was as good a time as any to make my offer. “Well, we could do it together?”
“Oh?” Mandy asked.
“Yeah,” I said, handing her a ring box.
Mandy blinked. “Seriously?”
“Wow, and I thought my parents story of their marriage proposal was unromantic,” I said, staring. That had involved a pregnancy scare and a shotgun if my mother’s stories at Thanksgiving were anything to go by.
Mandy smiled. She then took the box and pulled out the ring, putting it on her finger. It was far plainer than the one I’d bought for Gabrielle before she up and vanished on me. It was all I could afford. “Are you sure your parents would be okay with you marrying a bisexual Gentile pagan?”
“I’m sure they’d hate you but you’re not marrying them.”
Mandy snorted. Wiggling her finger. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t have anyone else you’d rather be with?”
I looked at her. “Do you?”
Mandy didn’t answer at first. The Black Witch was serving twenty-to-life for trying to Death Curse some corrupt priests involved in a sleazy cover-up. I thought they should have given her a medal. Finally, Mandy said, “I want to be your wife.”
“Cool.”
Not exactly the kind of story you’d want to tell your grandkids. Still, it was one of my few unambiguously happy memories. I was kind of surprised the mists thought it would break me, if that’s what they wanted to do. The voices which followed were an eerie collection of voices similar to Cloak’s but different. I took them to be the other six Reaper’s Cloak wearers for reasons I could only attribute to intuition.
“Mandy will suffer if you continue on this path.”
“Worse, she will change.”
“You will never be able to have the family you want with her.”
“She does not want the children you desperately crave.”
“You will take what is best from her and leave her a monster.”
“You will have her body but never her heart.”
I shook my head at the lame-ass statements and just carried on, hoping we were almost done. “Mandy loves me and I love her. The fact she’s in love with someone else doesn’t change that. You can love more than one person. I love my family, my friends, and other people too. That’s just how relationships work.”
“Is it?”
I was once more in another memory. This time, it was earlier that year with Gabrielle cursing up a storm at the ‘Game Over’ screen in front of the Xbox 360. She was playing the story mode of Corruption: Beware the Supermen. It was a controversial tie-in game I wasn’t sure how the Society of Superheroes’ marketing people had let slip through the cracks. You could play as any of the superheroes of the Society as well as a number of pardoned villains. It’s just the game was damned hard with certain characters.
“Ultragoddess f-ing sucks in this game!” Gabrielle said, tossing the remote to one side. She had her hair tied in bunches and was wearing one of my many Star Wars t-shirts, with no pants on. She had a pair of glasses on which were bigger and more obvious than any normal pair I’d seen. “It’s like playing Ultragod except half the power. Which is B.S. because she’s stronger than Ultragod.”
I walked over, wearing a pair of boxers and a carrying a plate of plain cheese pizza. I, personally, liked to kill entire forests of woodland creatures for my pizza but then again I’d never exactly been a strict Kosher Jew. I figured if God could forgive me working on Saturdays, he could forgive me enjoying the delicious taste of unclean animal.
“Public perception is a strong thing,” I said, walking back to the refrigerator in our apartment to get myself a Coca-Cola. We’d been sharing it for the better part of the last three months. “When people think of Ultragoddess, they still think of the teenage girl who guest starred on all the cutesy shows in the Nineties. They don’t think of the girl who managed to throw down with Entropicus one-on-one or who was trained by Guinevere and all the other warriors of the Society since damned near-birth.”
Gabrielle looked over at me. “What do you think of her?”
I popped my drink top and took a swig. “Well, she saved my life so I can’t be too hard on her.
On the other hand, I sometimes wonder about your obsession with her. Sometimes, it seems like you love her and other times it’s like you hate her.”
Gabrielle looked at the screen. “Gary, what if I told you I was Ultragoddess.”
It was another moment where all of the little clues came together and her still-light light mesmerism fell away. “Wow. I am a moron.”
Gabrielle looked down. “Not really. Isis cast some spells on me to make it harder for people to recognize me. I also use a lot of Ultra-mesmerism to make people unable to put the pieces together. It’s almost unconscious now. I also do my best to project an Ultra-light illusion of myself in most public appearances to add a foot to my features as well as change subtle details so people will be less likely to recognize me. Guinevere does something similar to those with evil intent in their hearts so she can be with her family without fear of reprisal.”
“That’s…terrifying.”
“Is it?” Gabrielle looked at me. She pulled off her glasses. “Gary, do you know how many times my mother was kidnapped?”
I stared at her, wondering where this was going. I was surprisingly cool with her revelation of her identity. I think it was like Luke’s revelation to Leia in, again, Return of the Jedi. I’d somehow always known, and it wouldn’t be until it was taken away I would get angry over it. “I remember it being a joke in the schoolyard growing up. Whenever a villain wanted to get at Ultragod, they would kidnap Polly Pratchett. So...a lot?”
“A lot,” Gabrielle said, staring. “What people don’t talk about is those weren’t funny situations. In the 1930s, the Hollywood Haunter tied her to a set of train tracks. Which, again, is the most cliché thing a villain can do. But you know what? Being tied to a set of train tracks with a train coming is fucking terrifying. My mom bore the scars well, standing up to the worst of the worst, but if not for the fact Ultragod has a lot of friends and alien technology; she would have been killed or disfigured many times.”
I nodded. “The precautions superhero families have to take is like the Witness Protection Program I understand. The Society of Superheroes relocates their families and friends under assumed identities when they choose to go public. As much as mobsters hate snitches, they hate superheroes more and itch for payback.” That was basic Unusual Criminology 101.
“Mobsters are the least of a superhero’s loved one’s problems,” Gabrielle said. “There’re terrorists, supervillains, aliens, and the fact weirdness just seems to follow you wherever you go. Ninety percent of superhero marriages end in either premature death or divorce because of the stress. The remaining ten percent? Most of them are with fellow superheroes.”
I stared at her. “You found the ring.”
Gabrielle looked on the verge of crying. She pulled out the ring from under her shirt. It was tied to a thin silver chain. “Yeah.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said, finishing my drink. “Let me get on one knee—”
“No.” Gabrielle shook her head. “You’re not afraid, but I am.”
“Gabby,” I took a deep breath, suddenly afraid. Afraid I’d lose her and that was the most terrifying feeling I’d ever have. “Before you, I was angry all the time. I hated the world. I hated myself. I hated everyone else for letting the world become like it is. You know what I did to Shoot-Em-Up. You know what happened to my brother. You know...everything. You don’t understand but it was dark before and when I’m with you....when we’re together.” I struggled for the right words. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I was crying now.
So was Gabrielle. The tears were running down her cheek. “Gary, they know. I’ve been careless. If a B-Lister like the Cackler can figure it out, then others will and they’ll target you. They’ll target your family. They’ll target everyone around you. I’m going into space on a peacekeeping mission soon and I won’t be here to protect you. I need people to think we’ve broken up and you mean nothing to me.”
I slammed my fist into the back of the refrigerator. “Then let’s fool them. Pretend to break up. I’ll change my name, fake my death, or create a new identity. Hell, I’ll become a superhero. Whatever you need. I don’t care how long you’re away as long as you come back to me!”
“I won’t lose you to violence. I’d rather not have you at all than that.” Gabrielle was bawling now. She stared at me. “Look into my eyes.”
I did, instinctively.
And then found myself in an empty apartment, cleaned out of her stuff with hours having passed and a vague sense we’d broken up.
I cried until morning.
Then got angry and made a silent vow to hold onto the anger harder and tighter than ever.
It was easy.
That was when I passed from the mist.
Chapter Twenty-Three
My Awkward, Awkward Conversation with My Ex
I woke up getting mouth-to-mouth from Gabrielle. Which was an awkward and pleasant enough situation from my perspective to qualify as adultery. Gently pushing her away before she started chest compressions, I coughed.
“I’m not dead,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Yet. No need for cosmic retcons of the universe, necromancy, turning me into a vampire, or revealing that I’m actually a clone of the original Gary Karkofsky.”
Gabrielle looked at me, smiling. She then frowned. “You know, you joke about that, but all of that stuff has actually happened to my friends. None of it was very funny.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, sorry I suppose it wouldn’t be.”
We were on top of a roof in New Avalon, overlooking much of the devastation wrecked by Gog and Magog. None of the other Shadow Seven were present and I was surprised to find myself worried about them.
“How are the others?” I asked, turning back to her.
“Alive,” Gabrielle said, looking up at the barely intact dome. Some of the energy projecting heroes were patching up the damage from stray supervillain blasts or attempts to kill everyone by a nihilistic few. “Everyone took a major banging but, aside from General Venom, no one suffered any serious injuries. He suffered a broken spine and would be paralyzed if not for the fact he’s cybernetic like the Prismatic Commando.”
“A pity, the ex-terrorist could have died a hero.”
“He made a lot of mistakes,” Gabrielle said, looking into my eyes. “That was before he found religion and became a man of peace. I don’t believe anyone is beyond redemption.”
“I do,” I said, staring at her. “But we’re not talking about him, are we?”
“Gary, I know I don’t have any right to ask—”
I sighed and sat up “You’re right, you don’t. You gave up that right when you decided to make up my mind for me.”
Gabrielle blinked. “I suppose I deserve that.”
“And worse,” I said, sighing. “However, I’m not so much of an asshat that I’m going to get anything but hate and self-loathing from being cruel to a person I…” I paused. Using the l-word would open a can of worms, and another for good measure. I wasn’t the sort of guy who cheated on his loved ones. Even when I’d been cheated on, mostly by Cindy, I hadn’t returned the favor.
I hadn’t cared enough to get mad over it, either.
I cared very much how Mandy felt.
“I see,” Gabrielle said, probably getting more from my hesitation than I intended to share. “Are you happy?”
“Being a supervillain or being married to Mandy?”
“Yes.”
I took a deep breath, considering my answer. “As ill-conceived stupid life-choices I might choose to blame on an early-onset mid-life crisis go, becoming a supervillain has proven to have its ups and downs. I’ve been involved in some truly amazing stuff, much more fun than working as a bank teller. It’s also nearly gotten me killed a half-dozen times in as many days. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep up with the pace, if this is going to be my life from now on. On the other hand, I don’t feel like I’m sleepwalking through life anymore. I’ve seized control of my destiny eve
n if it’s a destiny which is trying to beat me in the face with a pair of brass knuckles. So, you could say my feelings are mixed.”
I pointedly didn’t answer her question about Mandy and me. I knew the answer, I just didn’t know how to tell her.
Gabrielle smiled. “Supervillain or hero, you’ve saved a lot of lives today.”
“Don’t tell anyone else about that.”
“I’ll let it be known you were leading the Shadow Seven and we formed a temporary alliance to get rid of Gog and Magog only for you to backstab me at the first opportunity. It’ll increase everyone’s street cred considerably.”
I blinked. “You’d do that for me?”
“I have some experience dealing with career criminals, Gary. Remember, people may think of me as a Pollyanna but I lead a covert black ops superhero team which exists for the purposes of doing the jobs. I’m not one to make moral judgements.”
I looked at her. “There’s a difference between your team and the Extreme, Gabrielle. You fought to protect people. They fought to fight.”
“My team also fights for a paycheck, perks, and hopes of eventually getting out of jail. Bronze Medalist is only on the team because he likes to fight and wasn’t getting enough combat time with the Society’s main team. The Silver Lightning’s influence, I suspect. The Human Tank will probably earn her freedom only to be pulling off jewelry store robberies in a few months’ time. This is her third time being incarcerated.”
“Some people never learn, I guess,” I said, shaking my head.
“Your brother was on the original incarnation of the team, back when it was in the service of the Foundation for World Harmony. Before my time.”
I blinked, looking up. “Really?”
Gabrielle nodded. “The stories about your brother you told me made me think not all supervillains were like Tom Terror and his cronies. With the governments all closing ranks and working on becoming more repressive, I figured I’d revive the program and see if we could use it to do some good. A couple of toppled dictatorships, a wrecked Exterminator droid program, six destroyed P.H.A.N.T.O.M bases, and a freed prison camp or two make me think we’re doing a good job.”