Supervillainess (Part One)

by Lizzy Ford

“I thought I made it clear. I don’t want her protection.”

  “Boss does what she wants.”

  “Like blowing up a bus station?”

  “She didn’t do this,” Igor replied. “Jermaine’s framing her.”

  “I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with either of them.”

  “You’re in danger, Doc.”

  “That’s my business, not hers. Or yours!” Kimber snapped.

  “But think about it. If you get hurt, who will take care of all these people?”

  Kimber rubbed his face, exhausted. He lay down with his back to the desk. “Leave me alone, Igor. I have four hours … actually, three hours and fifty seven minutes before I have to start a new shift.”

  “I’ll be outside.” Igor moved to the door and opened it.

  Kimber lifted his head to tell the massive man to leave the hospital. The door closed, and he sighed. He was too tired to deal with the police. If Igor were present when he awoke, he’d definitely contact the authorities.

  ***

  The alarm went off too soon. Kimber’s dreams were filled with patients he was trying to treat, except more and more flooded into the ER, and he was the sole staff member present. Left alone to deal with dozens of hurt people, he desperately ran from person to person, struggling to stop the bleeding and help everyone before additional patients appeared.

  He awoke stressed out and exhausted.

  “Doc, you need to go,” said Igor, opening the door.

  I was really hoping he was part of my dream, Kimber thought. “I know. I’m up. Did they call for me over the intercom?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Kimber stood and took a moment to stretch back and regain his bearings. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a squishy candy bar, set it down, then pulled his phone out.

  “I’m calling the police, Igor. You probably don’t want to be here when they arrive,” he said and gave a stern look to the man propping open the door with his body.

  “They’re already here.”

  “What?”

  “Have a look.” Igor motioned to the windows behind Tish’s desk.

  The blinds were closed, and daylight outlined the edges of the window.

  Kimber crossed to the window, ready to call Igor’s buff. He peeked through the blinds. Dozens of police cars had surrounded the building and created a barrier, behind which swarms of reporters, hospital staff members and others waited among fire trucks, a truck marked Bomb Squad, and SWAT teams.

  “What happened?” he breathed.

  “Nothing yet,” Igor said.

  “Is your boss trying to take out the hospital?”

  “She’s not behind any of this.”

  Kimber released the blinds and faced the door. “Then what’s going on, Igor?”

  “We need to get you out of here.”

  “Why?” Kimber crossed his arms.

  “Boss says you need to leave, so you need to leave.”

  “First, she’s not my boss. Second, I’m not going anywhere if there are people here in danger or who need my help.” He gathered up his things. “You can tell me what’s going on or …”

  Igor didn’t speak.

  I’ll find out myself. Kimber pushed past the large man and started down the hallway.

  “Jermaine is here.”

  Igor’s words stopped him.

  “He took everyone in your department hostage when he couldn’t find you.”

  Kimber turned to face Igor. “He’s here?”

  “Downstairs. Along with a bunch of his henchmen and enough explosives to take out the entire building.”

  “For me.”

  “You helped Reader. That makes you his enemy.”

  Kimber studied Igor briefly. After his apartment building fire, he wasn’t about to let anyone else get hurt because of his association with the Savages. He dropped his belongings onto the ground. “Tell your boss I’m not one of her minions. I’m not going to let Jermaine blow up the hospital just to get to me.” Whirling, he stalked away.

  “Doc, boss won’t be happy.”

  “She won’t be surprised either. By now, she knows I’ll always do the right thing!” Kimber retorted.

  He ran down the hall and to the elevator. Punching the button to descend, he ran a hand through his hair and paced nervously. Confronting Jermaine Savage was the last thing he expected to happen today. But if the choice were between his life and those of the hundreds of people in the hospital, Kimber was going to save everyone else, no matter what Reader thought of his actions.

  “Boss wants to talk to you.” Igor had trailed him. He held out a phone.

  Kimber glanced at it, tempted to ignore half of the reason the ER had been taken hostage, before anger got the best of him. He snatched the phone.

  “Keladry –” he started.

  “Reader,” she corrected him.

  “Whatever. Tell Igor to back off.”

  “If you surrender to Jermaine, he’ll torture you and murder everyone else.”

  “If he has me, he won’t need everyone else!”

  “Exactly.”

  Kimber drew a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be in the middle of this. I’m going down there, Keladry, and I don’t care what you think.”

  “Doc, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t be a hero, and don’t believe anything my brother tells you.”

  “I’m no hero, but I’m not an asshole, either,” Kimber snapped. The elevator dinged, and its doors opened. “I’m not going to let anyone get hurt because of me. Call off your nanny and get him out of harm’s way.” He handed the phone back to Igor, who accepted it.

  Kimber walked into the elevator, wired and worried, and punched the button for the ground floor until the door closed.

  The ten-second elevator ride to the first floor was the longest of his life. Uncertain what to expect from the second Savage twin, he couldn’t stop thinking about the lives he had unwittingly put in the crossfire of psychopaths by helping Keladry.

  The elevator doors opened. Five men in black stood outside the lift, weapons pointed at the interior of the elevator. One of them stepped in to block the door from closing while another motioned for him to exit.

  Kimber’s heart began to race at the sight of them, and all traces of his exhaustion melted beneath the fire of adrenaline in his blood. His skin crawled with awareness of the weapons pointed at him.

  “My name is Doctor Kimber Wellington,” he said, automatically raising his arms to show he wasn’t armed. “I believe your boss is looking for me.”

  “Follow me,” one of them ordered him.

  Kimber lowered his arms and obeyed. Four of them escorted him through the vacant hallways. He peered into offices and patient rooms as they passed. He was relieved to see all the rooms empty. At least some people had already been evacuated or escaped.

  The moment he stepped into the emergency room area, his hope the situation wasn’t as bad as he imagined plummeted. The department was jammed with the suffering and staff members alike. They were huddled on the floor, everyone seated or lying down. There was hardly room to move from the sheer amount of people crammed into the ER. It was eerily quiet, aside from the occasional moan and stifled sobbing. The tension and body heat combined to render the large area uncomfortably hot and the air charged.

  All eyes turned to him, and Kimber’s breath caught. He had never wanted to be the center of attention anywhere, and the way the people regarded him – with a combination of hope, gratitude, and fear – left him feeling sick to his stomach. Did they look at him as if he were their savior, because of his antics after the fire last weekend? Or because, now that he was present, they would be set free?

  Behind the nurse’s station, he saw several bodies laid out under white sheets.

  There was no worse death than to go out feeling hopeless, powerless and afraid.

  Fury originating from a place too deep for him to identify filled him. The idea people had died because some psy
chopath decided to take the most vulnerable people imaginable hostage filled him with more emotion than he had experienced in years.

  “Where is he?” he demanded of one of the henchmen.

  “Busy. He’ll be with you –”

  “No. Now.”

  The beefy man glanced at him then back. He lifted his chin to another of the men, who trotted away, down the hallway leading to the first floor emergency operating suites and ICU.

  Seething yet calm, Kimber waited to meet the brother of Keladry.

  Jermaine Savage didn’t keep him waiting long. The moment the tall, athletic man entered the ER, Kimber almost cursed. He had treated too many people during his twenty four hour shift to recall anyone’s face with clarity – except for the first man.

  Cleaned up with no sign of a head wound, the patient who had snagged his coat as he crossed the floor of the ER the day before still wore his bloodied clothing and a smile.

  “Hey, Doc,” he said. “I’m all nice and healed.”

  Kimber was not amused. “I’m here, Jermaine. Let these people go.”

  “It’s not Jermaine. It’s Thunder,” Jermaine corrected him.

  “I don’t give a fuck what you call yourself! Your issue is with me, so let’s deal with it!”

  “That’s no way to talk to the future supervillain of Sand City.” Jermaine tilted his head and took a step back, remaining a solid five yards away.

  “Villains aren’t real. You’re a criminal whose father tortured you into believing you had superpowers and a purpose to justify your own fucked up upbringing,” Kimber retorted, warmed by anger. “You’ve held the city in fear long enough. It’s time people saw you for what you are.”

  Silence. Even the moaning stopped.

  Jermaine’s features turned scarlet, and his smile faded. “Careful, Doc,” he warned. He closed the distance between them and paused, toe to toe with Kimber. “I’ve rigged this place to blow.” He pointed to the walls and the blobby blocks of gray material Kimber assumed were explosives. “You piss me off, I kill everyone here.”

  Kimber glared at him, unafraid. “You’re a coward. Hurting innocent people because why? Your daddy didn’t love you? This makes you feel like you have some sort of control?”

  “Enough, Doc.” Jermaine snapped.

  “Let’s finish this. Just you and me.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like better than to peel your skin off and listen to you scream,” Jermaine said with a mirthless smile. His eyes were cold. “I have a feeling fucking up a few of these people would probably knock that defiance right out of you.”

  “Villain or criminal, if you hurt these people, you will answer for it. If not to the police, then to someone else.”

  “Daddy pays the cops enough to keep them away.”

  “You’re used to working in the shadows, Jermaine. This is broad daylight. What do you think will happen if the footage from the ER cameras is posted online and aired by the media? Seems like it’d be bad for business. Will your daddy applaud your efforts or cut you loose?” Kimber had no idea if what he said was true, but he hoped the business side of being a villain would be enough to force Jermaine into sparing the lives of the innocent people trapped in the ER.

  “Smart.” Jermaine backed away and turned. “I can see why my sister likes you.”

  You have no idea what that woman thinks of me, Kimber answered silently. After their heated exchanges, he had a feeling Keladry hated him.

  “You’ll leave here and accept what I have planned for you without resisting?” Jermaine asked, glancing over his shoulder at Kimber.

  “I will,” Kimber replied.

  “This might be fun.” Jermaine motioned to the guards across the room from him. “Very well. I’ll let these people go.”

  The phone in his pocket vibrated, and he pulled it free. Placing the phone against his ear, he went still, listening.

  Kimber waited, irritated by the villain. The resemblance between brother and sister was evident in their features, from the large, dark eyes and chiseled jawbones to the shapes of their noses.

  Jermaine lowered the phone with a scowl.

  “Seems I’ve got bigger fish to fry,” he said and pushed the cell back in his pocket. He made the sign for his men to rally and exit. “I’ll be in touch, Doc.”

  Kimber watched, startled, as the villain and his henchmen filed out of the ER, exiting through a side door.

  “Umbrella!” Jermaine called before stepping outside. “I can’t risk sunlight!”

  Uncertain why Jermaine was leaving without him, Kimber waited for the Savage twin to turn around and return for him or order one of his minions to gun him down.

  The phone in his pocket dinged, and Kimber reached for it absently, eyes on the men in black making their way out of the hospital.

  Evacuate. Now, read the message. The number was identified only as unknown. Kimber’s gaze returned to the retreating villains and then went to the plastic explosives along the walls.

  Kimber looked around at the amount of people crammed in the room. “We all need to leave. Exit through the main doors.”

  No one moved.

  “Now!” he shouted.

  The people around him jerked in response and began moving. Kimber motioned Gary over.

  “Good to see you.” Gary forced a smile.

  “Thanks. We need to get these people out of here immediately. Ask staff members to help those who can’t walk for themselves.”

  “Got it.” Gary moved away.

  Kimber spun and raced down the hallway to the consultation rooms. These rooms, and the two offices in this hall, were packed. He began shouting for everyone to move and to help those who couldn’t walk for themselves. The ensuing frenzy of activity swarmed from the corridors into the ER and out into the crescent shaped driveway reserved for ambulances.

  He pulled the fire alarm to alert anyone else in the building and then bent over to help carry an unconscious man out of the ER. He hadn’t walked two steps into the driveway before an explosion ripped through the ER. Heat rolled over him, and debris pelted his exposed skin. Kimber was flung to the ground by the force and lay still, momentarily stunned and breathless. His ears rang, and smoke blinded him. Cuts and bruises stung from points all over his body. As far as he could tell, they were the worst of his injuries, aside from bruised ribs from his impact with the ground. A police officer shouting through a megaphone somewhere was soon drowned out by cries of fear and panic.

  Coughing from the smoke and dust, Kimber waited for his senses to stabilize. Scared and angry, he couldn’t help thinking about the Savage twins and how his life had gone to shit since he met one of them. People died every time his path intersected with one of the twin’s – or whenever they decided to seek him out. They were too selfish, too damaged, to understand their impact on the world or perhaps, they just didn’t care.

  As he lay still, recovering, he couldn’t help the dread settling into his stomach as he realized he was in the middle of the twin’s war. Whether or not he belonged in it, he had become as dangerous as the twins. Wherever he went, he would draw them and their danger to him and those around him.

  I have to fix this. Kimber tried to push himself up. He knew where to find Keladry. He could start there. As he moved, he became aware of the thick, warm rivulet of blood traveling down the back of his neck and soaking his clothing.

  A wave of darkness swept over him, and he tumbled into unconsciousness.

  Ten: Villains never kill heroes the first time they meet

  Kimber recognized the scent of disinfectant before his eyes opened to confirm he was in a hospital. He was achy with muscular pain, and his chest hurt to breathe deeply. The back of his head was numb. He stretched back to feel the numb spot. His fingertips met the roughness of a bandage stretched across his skull.

  Assessing he’d been hit by debris, his eyes snapped open, and he sat up, assessing the bag connected to the IV in his hand. He read the contents – nothing more than a standard sa
line solution – before starting to relax. His mind wasn’t woolly or his senses dulled; they hadn’t given him painkillers, just local anesthesia.

  The hospital room didn’t resemble any place he had seen in Sand General. The walls were a calming shade of blue, the bed too comfortable, and the big screen television across the room nowhere near as small as those at his normal workplace. The floors were carpet, too. There were other signs he’d been taken to an upscale clinic instead of being treated at Sand General.

  His clothing was folded on a dresser. He sat, tested his body, then swung his legs off the bed.

  Kimber removed the catheter in his hand and stood. Aside from remaining dizziness, and the tightness of his chest, he felt rested and well. A quick self-examination revealed nicks and bruises covering his body. He crossed to his clothing and changed out of the hospital gown into his jeans. Tugging on a t-shirt, he paused when the scent of freshly laundered clothing reached his nose.

  It wasn’t his brand of detergent or fabric softener. He pulled the shirt the rest of the way down and looked around briefly for more belongings, namely his phone, before reaching back to feel his head again.

  He had around eight stitches. The fact they let him sleep indicated no concussion, and the lack of painkillers meant it was likely a superficial wound. Satisfied his well being was in no real danger, Kimber checked the room for any sign of his shoes without finding them or his phone.

  He opened the door and stepped into a hallway very unlike those of the hospitals and clinics he had worked in. It resembled the hall of an expensive hotel with plush carpet, stone walls, antique furniture, paintings with heavy golden frames and doors similar to his lining each side. Doorframes were thick oak, and the lighting thirty feet overhead wrought iron.

  “Hello?” he called.

  No answer.

  Puzzled as to where he was, Kimber started down the hallway. Another hall intersected with this one. It opened into a waiting area and nurses station – both of which were furnished with antiques, oil paintings, lead crystal bowls and other displays of wealth. One of the nurses stood when he entered the area.

  “Where am I?” he asked.

  “Private clinic.”

  No shit. No charity hospital had this kind of money.