by Matt Cowper
“What do you mean, finally capture you?”
“All the times we fought, Patrick never…well, he never defeated me, I guess is how you can put it. He never took me down and handed me over to the cops.”
“Why not?” I asked. “Not to be harsh, but he had an edge on you in pretty much every area.”
“I don’t know,” Homer said. “He’d have me cornered, but then he’d mess up somehow. He’d slip and get hit by a bus, or punch a wall by accident and send a ton of bricks crashing down on himself. It was…odd, since he was so strong and graceful most of the time.”
I ruminated on this for a few seconds, but only a few; any in-depth theorizing would have to wait.
“Now, this bomb,” I said. “Who designed it? It wasn’t you, was it?”
“No,” Homer replied. “I don’t know how to engineer things like that. I can barely program my Kindle, much less design a mind-swapping device – or a null-raxite bomb, as the thing turned out to be.”
“So someone screwed you?”
“Yes. I was an idiot for trusting them – whoever they were.” He stared past me, remembering. “I was at Tapper’s Tavern, drinking some sweet tea – as Gray Squirrel, I mean. By myself, as usual. Then Gale Force came over to my table and started talking my ear off. I didn’t like the guy – I remember when he blew down that school a few years back and crushed all those kids – but I couldn’t be rude. If I did, I’d end up crushed. After about ten minutes of nonstop talking, he said he had a proposition for me.”
“Let me guess: he’d design you a special nut-bomb.”
“Well – not exactly. Said he knew a guy who could make fantastic tech. Said the guy could build a device that could switch me and Patrick’s minds. If I really wanted revenge on Captain Neptune, I could pose as him and ruin his life – like you said.”
“And what’d you say?” I asked.
“I was intrigued. I thought it was a great idea – well, the mind-swapping part, not the ruin his life part – and I didn’t know why Gale Force thought to mention it to me, of all people. Now I know I was just a patsy. They knew Neptune didn’t take me seriously, so they knew he wouldn’t really try to dodge whatever I threw at him.”
“So you met with this bomb-maker.”
“Yeah. Gale Force said he’d send the word through the grapevine, but then he gave me an address and a time. And a price, for the bomb. I wondered how he already had those details ready, but I guess they knew I’d accept.”
“Address and time – what were they?”
“The address was for the old hot dog factory in Bootheel. The time was three AM, April 1st.”
“April Fool’s Day.”
“Should’ve been a dead giveaway, shouldn’t it?” Homer said, smiling sadly. “But I thought Captain Neptune would end up the fool, not me.”
“So you showed up there at that time.”
“Yeah. The factory was dank, dark – I felt the cold, even in my squirrel costume. Some guy was standing right in the middle of the place, waiting for me. I never saw his face. He was wearing baggy clothes and a mask, all black, and something was altering his voice.”
“How do you know it was a he?”
“Well, I didn’t see breasts, and they didn’t carry themselves like a girl.”
“OK, we’ll assume it’s a he,” I said. “He had what you thought was the mind-swapping gizmo, and you paid him, right?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“A million dollars.”
“A million doll—and you had that kind of money? I knew you had an inheritance, but—”
“Yeah, I have – had – that kind of money. Don’t look at me like that. I thought it was a deal at the time. I mean, it was tech that could swap minds. You don’t just find that stuff at Yay-Mart. I know; I used to work there.”
“What happened next?”
“Nothing. I left, he left. I never saw him again.”
“And you didn’t notice anything about him? Any idiosyncrasies, maybe a tattoo on an uncovered part of his body?”
“No, he just seemed like a normal guy.” Homer rubbed his chin, causing the manacles to clink. “I did think he had good posture. Ram-rod straight, you know? Like the military.”
There were only, what, two million people in the military? And that didn’t include all the bodyguards, mercenaries, vigilantes, superheroes and supervillains who had erect carriage.
It was a thin thread, and I didn’t want to dangle from it, so I pushed on.
“Who do you think—”
But right then there was a beep, and the door opened.
“Alright, that’s enough for now,” Burt said. “Time to get Mr. Bollinger back to his cell so he can pray to our everlasting Lord for forgiveness for his heinous crime.”
I stood up and turned my British accent back on. “Mr. Harrison, we’re at a crucial point in our discussion.”
“Everyone’s always at a crucial point when we break up these visits,” Burt said, chuckling. “You two can chat later. Right now, Mr. Woodruff is on his way here, and I think he’d like to have a word with you.”
I didn’t miss Burt’s warning. I leaned towards Homer and patted him on a manacle.
“I’ve gotta go, Homer,” I whispered in my normal voice, “and this may be the last time we meet, so good luck.”
“Thank you,” Homer whispered back, beaming like he’d never heard those words before. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ve given me enough to get started – and someone I know says I’m a bloodhound. I’ll follow this trail to whatever mire it leads to.”
“I believe you,” Homer said. “Oh, before you leave…if you ever talk to Julia…tell her….”
“I know, Homer. I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks.”
“Clock’s ticking, Mr. Fairfield,” Burt said. “Each second brings my superlatively stellar boss one step closer to this facility.”
I hustled out of the door, then took one last look back at Homer Bollinger. He looked entirely too hopeful – but I had just told him I was a bloodhound and was on the hunt.
Dammit, Johnny. You and your bleeding heart. When you aren’t breaking every law in Z City, you try to act like a saint. And why are you giving Homer, or Julia, or anyone involved in all this an ounce of trust? Everyone lies, especially when talking to private investigators.
Then the door slid shut, and all I saw was cold metal, and two emotionless guards standing on either side of it.
Burt was already halfway down the hall. I jogged to catch up. That sit-down had healed up my legs a little; I no longer felt half-crippled.
“So where is Mr. Woodruff located?” I asked as Reginald Fairfield.
“He left the Department of Transportation headquarters not two minutes ago,” Burt replied. “I don’t know if he heard about your little heart-to-heart with Gray Squirrel or not, but anywho, I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
“I wish I could take time to converse with such a well-regarded gentleman,” I said, “but I skipped lunch, and I feel a dire need for some fish and chips. Perhaps another time.”
“Oh, well I’m sure he’ll be sorry he missed you,” Burt said.
“Tell him to come on over to the uni whenever he wishes, and we’ll start up the log fire and have a real corker of a talk.”
We kept up this ruse until we exited the detention center and got back into the elevator. Once the doors closed, we both let out deep breaths.
“So what did you learn?” Burt asked.
“Claims he was set up,” I said. “Someone provided him with the bomb he threw at Captain Neptune, but Homer thought it was a mind-swapping device.”
“So he wanted to take over his foe’s ripped and tanned body?” Burt said. “Can’t blame the guy. He looks like a janitor.”
“You’re not exactly a hulking Adonis yourself, Burt.”
“No, but I have that tight swimmer’s physique
girls love,” Burt said, with apparent sincerity. “Who gave him the bomb?”
“He doesn’t know. They met in a dark warehouse, and the guy was covered in black and had something that altered his voice. But I know who the middleman was between Homer and our mystery weapons dealer: Gale Force.”
“Lemme guess: you’re going to find him and beat some answers out of him.”
“Got it in one.”
“Johnny, Gale Force ain’t no lightweight like Gray Squirrel,” Burt said, turning to me. He looked concerned for my well-being, and that made me step back and ready myself for one of his rare hugs. “He can summon hurricane-force winds. He once blew Captain Neptune from Jameson Bay to the Garden. How are you going to counter that?”
“Me and Dak will come up with something.”
The elevator dinged, and we stepped out into the tunnel. The light at the end of it seemed like a beacon, and I resisted the urge to jog towards it. A few more yards, and I’d be on the ferry and heading back to the mainland, and out of Damien Woodruff’s grasp. Sure, he’d hear about my meeting with Homer, but if he came after me, he’d have to send his goons into Bootheel, and there I had home court advantage.
“I’m not convinced,” Burt said, again struggling to keep pace with me. “You go in half-cocked and Gale Force will scour your flesh from your bones.”
“I won’t,” I said. “Every hero and villain has weaknesses. I’ll find his. All it’ll take is a review of his battles. Captain Neptune beat him plenty of times, right?”
“Yeah, he did, but he was a Class B,” Burt said. “You’re only a Class D superhuman, and the thing that gives you powers acts squirrelly sometimes – no pun intended.”
“Burt, quit the hand-wringing,” I said. “I like you better when you’re being a sarcastic jackass. And what about you? Are you sure you can survive Woodruff’s spitting rage?”
“Oh yeah, no problem,” Burt said nonchalantly. “I can out-maneuver him any day of the week. He may think I’m a pawn, but this pawn promoted himself to a queen years ago.”
“A queen, huh? Where’s your tiara and your flowing dress?”
“You know what I mean,” Burt growled. “Or maybe you don’t. Damn philistine like you, you’ve probably never played a single game of chess in your life.”
We were out of the tunnel and back into the open air. A few seagulls wheeled overhead, and the waters of Jameson Bay lapped onto the algae-covered rocks. I looked back at the two guards Burt had blustered past earlier, and they gave me beady stares. I waved in response, and their stares got even beadier.
The ferry was moored at the end of the dock, and had recently disgorged a group of tourists. A DSC representative was motor-mouthing about Ironrock Island’s advanced-yet-humane facilities, and most of the citizens were nodding eagerly. I would’ve loved to destroy the dock and send those milquetoasts into the drink, but if I did that, Homer Bollinger would have a new neighbor up in the Superhuman Detention Center.
We’d reached the ferry. I stepped onto the gangplank and turned to Burt.
“Keep an eye on Homer,” I said. “If someone learns he talked….”
“I don’t think you have to worry about his safety. Woodruff wants him alive so he can skewer him in the trial, and once he learns you got Homer to open his chubby lips, he’ll triple the security.”
“Good.”
The ferry blared its whistle. Perfect timing. I didn’t want to wait here any longer than was necessary. I started up the gangplank.
“I’ll be in touch,” I said.
“Whatever,” Burt scoffed. “Just be ready for Woodruff, whenever he decides to drop in on your life. And take Gale Force seriously.”
“OK, Mom. Can you tuck me in and give me a kiss goodnight?”
“Guy tries to show concern….” Burt grumbled as he walked down the dock. I got onto the ferry and leaned against the railing, watching him return to grease the wheels or whatever he needed to do to keep Woodruff off guard. He said something that was probably sarcastic to the two guards at the end of the tunnel, and then disappeared into the rock.
I looked up at the sky as the ferry pulled away. It was almost achingly blue; I thought back to my childhood, when I’d go to the basketball courts over by Vinnie’s Steakhouse and shoot hoops with the neighborhood kids all day. The sky always seemed cloudless and dazzling back then, but of course we dip a lot of our childhood memories in gold and silver.
I was feeling good, now that I was out of danger. I’d survived a battle with the Gridlock Grenadiers and got some crucial bits of information from Homer Bollinger. Now I wanted to get home so I could drink a few brews while I had a nice long soak in the tub.
“Dak, you there?” I thought-spoke. My God Arm had been strangely silent for an astounding block of time. “What’re you up to, buddy?”
“I am destroying monuments, as we discussed earlier,” Dak rumbled. “And I have now shattered nine hundred and eighty of them. I will have shattered a thousand of them before this boat touches the mainland.”
“Whoa. That’s impressive – but I thought you said getting a thousand was impossible.”
“I did, but as you mortals say, persistence is the key to achieving one’s goals. Also, I sense a destructive presence nearby. It has motivated me further.”
“A presence? Who – or what – is it?”
“I do not know. It certainly is not that pale imposter the Squirrel of Grayness. Perhaps it is one of the inmates in the Maximum of Meganess Prison.”
“Yeah, that might be it….”
I heard a splash below me, and I looked down, expecting to see ripples from where a fish had jumped. Instead, I saw a stream of water rushing up at me. It was heading in a straight line, like it was blasting out of a fire hose.
“What the he—”
Before I could finish my expletive, the water slammed against my legs, and I felt myself slipping. It was like the water was alive, and very pissed off at me. I just barely sucked in a lungful of air before I was pulled into the bay.
I struggled underwater, trying to get to the surface, but then someone grabbed my God Arm in an iron-tight grip, and suddenly I was rushing through the water. I looked around wildly, but I couldn’t see anything but bubbles, dark green water, and the shimmering surface of the bay far above.
“Dak, do something!” I thought-spoke.
“How dare this cretin defile us with his opprobrious grasp! Dakroth’gannith’formaz will not be handled in such a manner!”
“Then…do…something!”
“I will give this arm enough super-strength to crack the mightiest mountain. Remove his foul fingers!”
I felt my God Arm swelling in power, and I tried to jerk my arm out of my mystery assailant’s grip. To my surprise, he didn’t even attempt to hold on; he just let that arm go, but latched two hands onto my left arm.
I flailed around, trying to reach my left arm, but we were moving too quickly, and I was running out of air. I was going to drown if I didn’t get to the surface soon….
Then I was sailing through the air, the blue sky spread above me, the sun blazing into my eyes. I landed hard on sand and rolled for what seemed like a half-mile. Once I finally came to a stop, I lay there for a few seconds, sucking in the sweet breeze that was wafting by me.
But I had a feeling this fight – or whatever it was – wasn’t over, so I struggled to my feet and looked around. I was back on the mainland, on a small beach by the ferry landing. Ironrock Island was far away, and the ferry I’d just been on was a speck glinting on the bay.
This guy had dragged me all the way to shore in less than a minute. We had to have been going at least sixty miles an hour through that cold water.
I spun around, looking for whoever had grabbed me, but all I saw were a few pedestrians gawking down at me from the walking path that ran parallel to the beach.
Then one of the softly-breaking waves exploded, and a human figure came barreling towards me in a crash of foam and spray. I crouched
and raised my God Arm; he wouldn’t grab me so easily this time.
The figure landed not ten feet from me, sending sand flying. He crossed his arms and put his legs shoulder-width apart – the Hero Pose. I groaned. I recognized him now: the green speedo, the black domino mask, the long mane of dripping hair….
“Hello, Mr. Wagner,” the man said. “I’m Waverush – but I think you already know that.”
Chapter Eight
Waverush continued to stand there in his Hero Pose, wet and shining, his granite-hard pectoral muscles and eight-pack abs surely causing some of the female onlookers to swoon.
I was wet too, of course, but I was fully clothed, and I was crouched down, ready to fight. I was sure I looked like some disheveled mugger Waverush was toying with before he handed me over to the cops.
“What the hell’s going on?” I said.
“I need to have a talk with you,” Waverush replied.
“Really?” I said. “So you yank me off a ferry and nearly drown me?”
“If I wanted to drown you, you’d be drowned. That was just a message.”
“A message meaning what? I don’t speak fish.”
Waverush chuckled. “Your wit – if you want to call it that – is pathetic.” He ran a hand through his soaking hair, and I thought I heard some teenage girls squealing behind me. “I’ll be very clear: stop meddling in affairs that don’t concern you.”
“Such as?”
“You know exactly what I mean. The Captain Neptune case.”
“Why do you think I’m working that case?”
He smiled, revealing ivory-white teeth. “Because you are. As to how I know – well, if you’re going to be tight-lipped, so am I.”
My wind swam with possibilities. Maybe he had an inside man on Ironrock Island. Maybe he’d been following Julia, and saw her go into the offices of Godlike Investigative Services. Maybe Netmaster and Big-Eyed Baldwin had been a little too chatty, and the news was making its way through the Z City grapevine.
I forced myself to focus on the present moment. I could find out his information-gathering methods later. Right now, I had seafood to fry.