Preternaturals: A Superhero Thriller

by Allen Kensington

  “Given your previous military record and your current work with Dr. Miller, we have a few openings that’ll be waiting for you when you graduate.” The man reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a sheaf of folded papers.

  “But for now, I’m going to ask you to do something for your country, John. We’re in a tight spot, with the blasted commies trying to infect the globe, and Dr. Malorius causing havoc here at home. We need your help. That is, of course, if you agree to some terms.”

  John smiled, accepting the ink pen from the man’s hand. He glanced over the contract, and signed his name with fanciful strokes, jubilant in his good fortune.

  After his signature, a space asked for the date. He filled it with October 20, 1952.

  Red had been stunned by the vision, unsure why his ability had dredged something so seemingly useless. He lay there as the attackers continued to fight, and watched as the Lieutenant fell, leaving Femme to fend for herself. The battle seemed lost.

  He shook his head, attempting to clear the memories that were not his own. Had his power worked after all? Their leader had ordered them away, and the group was gone within minutes. What had happened?

  He rose and staggered around the room, taking in the devastation. Small fires burned in the scattered piles of debris, blood and corpses everywhere. Only the senator stood nearby, looking scorched but unhurt. He moved toward Red and clasped a hand upon his shoulder.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?”

  Red didn’t answer.

  “I know the powers of everyone in this room. It must have been you.” He wasn’t backing down, staring Red hard in the eyes.

  At last, Red nodded, fading in and out of himself. He watched as the senator called for a security team and medical personnel, but it seemed useless. Most of the room’s former inhabitants were obviously dead, and a few less obviously, but no less effectively.

  “What do we do now?”

  The words escaped his mouth, in his own voice, but Red wasn’t sure of the speaker. He had found no guidance within himself, and sought it from outside. Somehow, he needed it.

  “First, we mourn,” Williams said, looking across the charred room. The explosions had destroyed everything, sending shrapnel into the furniture, walls, and ceilings. Lifeless bodies abounded.

  “It’s not the mourning that I’m concerned with, sir,” the Lieutenant’s voice broke in. He approached them from behind, brushing himself off. A hose dangled from his back, and blood stained his suit’s front panel. His goggles hung askew upon his head, one lens shattered. Somehow, he looked even more imposing than usual.

  “I’m going to find those responsible, and take them out.”

  The senator waved his hands and shook his head. “We will, Lieutenant, but now is not the time,” he said, trying to mollify the man. “Any spontaneous action could make the situation worse.”

  Mead stepped closer. “There’s nothing spontaneous here, sir. We know what we have to do. They’ve taken Femme, and we have a limited window to rescue her.” Determination resonated in his voice.

  Senator Williams wasn’t convinced. “Stand down, Mead,” he said with sudden sternness. “The situation is tenuous enough without you making it worse.” He paused, regaining his composure. “You and Mr. Cunningham will go to the med lab and get yourselves checked out. We have others who will handle the kidnapping.”

  None of the Lieutenant’s agitation dissipated, but as he started another rebuttal, Jack cut him off. Glancing at his watch and cursing, the senator ran for the door. “We’ll talk about this later. I have a press conference to get to,” he said, striding out of the room and wiping at the blood stains on his tie.

  Red could only watch him go, staring behind in disbelief. Lieutenant Mead wasted no time, turning as the senator left. “The old man has bungled this from the start, Mr. Cunningham. It’s time for the real soldiers to step in.” His jaw was set, teeth grinding. Intensity flared from him. “We need to strike back. And hard.”

  Red agreed with the words, but didn’t allow himself to volunteer for the effort. His thoughts were of Cynthia – how she would worry, and how he would explain what had happened. Going on this kind of mission would be risky and stupid; he didn’t need to add to her already substantial worries. Somehow, Red, Cynthia, and Faction had made it this far. Perhaps now was the time to play it safe.

  Mead must have sensed his hesitation. He gestured to their destroyed surroundings. “Look at it, Red. This is war,” he said, grabbing Red’s shoulders and staring him in the eye. “They’ve taken Femme, and despite what he says, we’re the only ones that can get her back.”

  Red measured the man’s proposition. It was true. The two of them did have a leg up on any other response teams. They had seen the attackers, were ready to act, and held a unique resource in Red’s ability. He understood the Lieutenant’s plea, and the urgency of the situation, but it would mean going rogue, and Red had always acted within the law. No matter how justified, he didn’t relish the use of deadly force that could be required. The possibility sickened him.

  “I’m going with or without you,” Mead said, retrieving his sidearm. He checked the clip, slid it back into place, and reholstered the weapon. “There’s no time to waste on indifference.”

  Red sighed, speaking at last. “How do we find them?”

  Mead looked to one of the corpses, slumped in a bloody pool behind him. “We got one of them,” he said, walking to the body. He leaned down, rifling through a few of her pockets. Finding his reward, he stood again. A mobile phone rested in his hand, and he pressed a few keys.

  “Let’s see where she’s been.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Back at the warehouse, Billy Moffet waited, clinging to the rafters above the main floor. Alone for the moment, his mind filled with unease. He wanted more than anything to escape, to leave his life and all of it behind, but he knew that the others would find him. That, or they would murder him as they had so many others. What could he do?

  His bank account no doubt held another million for the completion of the job, but in his current mood, the sum did not make him feel any better. Unpleasant sounds came from a smaller room where Iguanus was keeping his hostage. The lizard was doing god-knows-what to her, and in his demented mind, Billy imagined that her torture must pass for justice. Another scream echoed.

  Billy considered interrupting the creature’s fun, but even the Aegis had decided to step out, patrolling the perimeter of the building. He seemed neither to condemn nor condone Iguanus’ actions, allowing the lizard a frightening freedom. Billy wondered if the mercenary had known about the special contracts, and all of those dead preternaturals that resulted from them, as well.

  The screaming stopped, and Iguanus opened the door. He appeared finished with his unspeakables, at least for the moment. He walked into the room and stood below Billy, wiping his brow with a blood-soaked sheet.

  “She’s all yours,” he hissed. A fanged smile formed along his snout as he sniffed the air. “Hope I didn’t spoil her too much.”

  Billy dropped and stood upright, if only to keep the rising bile within. “What do I want with her?” he asked.

  “You’re a young man. Have some fun.” The creature tilted his head and smiled fiendishly.

  Billy feared the lizard, and knew the best way to stay alive was to remain in his good graces. He nodded, playing along. He would have to act the part, if for no other reason than to avoid Iguanus’ suspicions. He accepted the invitation, taking the room’s key. The dark eyes burned upon him as he walked to the door and unlocked it. With a deep breath, he opened it and stepped inside.

  Gazing around the room, he decided to ignore everything except the woman’s naked body. He didn’t succeed. Flecks of blood seemed sprayed across the walls and linens, coming into a clear and maddening focus. He concentrated again, unable to avoid the slashes and bruises upon her. A permanent expression of agony seemed etched across her face.

  A cold sweat leaked from his pores. H
e closed the door behind him, the room darkening except for the lights above the bed. The woman’s eyelids were shut, but as he listened, he could hear her slight exhales. From what he could tell, she was unconscious, and he was glad for that. Her body waited, spread across the dirty mattress, and reaching down, he began to loosen the belt of his costume. It made little noise, but it was enough.

  Her eyes sprung open.

  She stared at him, the gaze shattering his life of crime into a million, tiny pieces. He couldn’t do it, never could really. All he wanted was to go home. He turned invisible in the darkness, but she did not look away. He crept toward the room’s corner, and her eyes remained fixed on his original location. He realized there was nothing conscious behind them, no will and almost no life, only the sad remnants of a tortured victim.

  He refastened his belt, turning his back to her and throwing up. Bits of a forgotten lunch soaked into the musty carpeting. Wiping away the chunks sticking to his lips, he slumped against the wall and cried to himself. He worried about Iguanus, and what he would thing, but dismissed the thoughts as they came.

  Let her have some rest, the others wouldn’t know.

  __________

  “I think this is it,” David said, shifting the car into park. He looked around the decaying industrial complex, trying to determine which warehouse seemed likely to hide their enemies. “We’ll have to walk from here.”

  Red checked the dead convict’s cell phone again. The duo had followed its GPS information here, presuming that it would lead them to the other assailants, and to Femme. While the surrounding buildings seemed promising, their success was far from certain.

  “We’ll split up to cover more ground,” the Lieutenant suggested. “Stay in contact with the radio.”

  Red hesitated as the other man got out. “Lieutenant,” he spoke up. “Before I can do this, I need to make a call.”

  David held the driver’s side door open, ducking his head back into the vehicle. He looked at Red, and nodded. “Make it quick. We don’t have much time.” He closed the door and walked away, beginning to scout the location.

  Red waited in the car a few moments longer, picking up his cell. He dialed his wife’s number, and pressed the phone to his ear. The speaker purred twice, issuing her sweet voice on the third ring.

  “Hello. Red?”

  He leaned back into his seat, smiling. “Hi, Honey. How’s it going?” He tried to sound casual. After the day he’d had, hearing her voice was like a magical salve.

  “Uh, I’m fine. How are you? I saw your battle on the news,” she said, smiling. “You look good in your new armor.”

  He laughed a little. “Thanks.”

  “Listen Red,” she started, her tone turning more serious. ”I’m glad you called. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  He looked out the car’s windows. The warehouses were dark and deserted, lending an ominous air to the industrial setting. The Lieutenant was already out of sight, searching for their kidnapped colleague. Red had to join him. “I’m sorry, C. I don’t have a lot of time. Can it wait?”

  There was a pause before she answered, seeming both disappointed and relieved. “Yeah.”

  He sucked in a breath. “I gotta go, okay? I just wanted to call and tell you that you might see a lot of stuff on TV. Whatever you hear, don’t worry about me, okay?” He fought the lump in his throat. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Red? What’s happening?”

  “I gotta go help someone out. I’ll call you later.”

  “Be careful,” she said. “I love you.”

  He looked at the phone for a moment, its light ruining his night vision. “I love you, too, Cynthia. I’ll talk to you later.” He pressed the button to end the call. The phone went dark.

  Red climbed out of Mead’s car, closing the passenger door with care. He keyed his radio. “I’m ready, Lieutenant. Let’s do this.”

  Mead again came into view, stepping out from a passageway between buildings. “This way,” he said, taking a route further into the complex.

  The two men crept down the alleyway, avoiding the weak streetlights that did little to illuminate the area. Long warehouses lined the narrow drive, their walls of cinderblock and corrugated steel defining the cold starkness of the surroundings. Decrepitude and corrosion seemed to infest everything, and even the asphalt under Red’s feet was cracked and broken, giving way to uneven pools of stagnant water.

  They came to another intersection, and the duo looked to one another.

  “We’ll split here,” the Lieutenant said, whispering into his microphone. The statement sounded loud and clear in Red’s ear. So much had happened since their battle at the armored car, but it seemed as if their mission had never ended. Here they were, again facing hostile preternaturals for the greater good. He nodded in response.

  Red knew the added danger of going it alone, but they could cover more ground as individuals, and they needed to locate Femme in a hurry. He watched as David slipped down another narrow pathway, continuing to follow the corridor they had started.

  He prowled in the shadows, feeling a lot like his many nights working alone as Faction. The comparison gave him an idea. While he remained on the ground, his usefulness was limited, but if he could get higher, his search could be easier. He was used to looking across the rooftops with a trained eye.

  Remembering something that he had seen as they drove in, he ran forward to another junction. The park’s alleys crossed, creating an opening among the two and three story buildings. He scanned the near horizon, trying to locate the highest point among them.

  A shadowy water tower rose from behind a few of the warehouses to his left, its bulk seeming to hover in the sky. He squinted and studied the shape, making out the skeletal legs that held it aloft. A long narrow ladder led to a catwalk along its midsection.

  Red smiled. That would be perfect.

  He ran to the structure.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Lieutenant David Meade made his own way alone further into the complex, the moon casting long shadows along the open passageways. He stayed close to the buildings and out of sight, rushing between each inky pool of black. Leaping through another alleyway, he came to a crossroads and stopped. All remained quiet.

  If they were here, they had hidden well. He was nearing the river at the industrial park’s far side, and nothing yet. The labyrinth of corrugated steel stymied his efforts.

  He wished again that he had had time to retrieve the spare SkyRise pack kept back at the hanger. He felt limited on the ground, but in the sky, he knew he’d find Femme with little trouble. He’d rise over all of these earthbound obstructions and search with real competence. If only his battle with Rangda hadn’t destroyed the jetpack.

  He shook his head, clearing the idea. Regrets weren’t important now. The situation required his full attention, and he had to stay focused. The rescue effort required it.

  He pressed his back along a wall, peeking around a corner. Cold waves lapped against a nearby dock, and a marker buoy clanged in the distance. He looked down the long shore, and saw nothing. Dissatisfied, he doubled back.

  They had to be somewhere in the interior, the edges of the park would be too exposed. He formed a grid pattern in his mind, beginning to imagine his orientation within it. The best strategy that he could conceive necessitated finding the centermost building, and spiraling outward from there. He hoped there was enough time to employ it.

  Running toward the park’s heart, his radio crackled. “Lieutenant, are you there?”

  David paused, looking both directions and stepping behind a collection of stacked crates. “I’m here, Red. What is it?”

  “I think I’ve found something.”

  He smiled. Perhaps preternatural abilities weren’t so bad after all. “Great, where is it?”

  “There’s a small warehouse north of where you parked, a few alleys in from the western corner. I see some light coming from a window.”

  “Is that
all?”

  “Everything else is pitch black.”

  “Alright,” David acknowledged. “I’ll check it out.”

  Following Red’s directions, he found the place in short time. He eyed the structure, creeping around its perimeter to get a better idea of what may lay inside. The doors looked old and cheap, and he knew that he could knock through one with little effort. The problem lie in knowing what waited for him on the other side. He held his gun at the ready, unsure how useful it would be against this group of foes. If he faced the Aegis, he would do just as well to throw the weapon.

  He radioed Red again, still stationed somewhere on the other side of the warehouse. The man had offered to help, but David had decided to check it out alone. Leaving the recruit stationary and out of sight, he hoped to capitalize on his preternatural ability. With any luck, Red could spot and influence someone, evening their odds. That would make some things easier, at least.

  “Can you sense anything yet?” David asked with hope.

  “It’s too dark,” Red replied. “I have to see or hear them, or have some sort connection, to have any sway.”

  The Lieutenant grimaced. “Keep an eye out. They could be anywhere.”

  He looked around, noticing a nearby fire escape, the stairs leading to a bank of windows on the building’s second floor. With all of the stealth he could muster, David made his way there and climbed it. Perhaps a visual would do him some good as well.

  Reaching the upper platform, he found himself dreading what he may discover inside. Within the building, Femme Fatale could already be dead, and the mission failed. He tried not to think about those possibilities. If there was any chance to rescue her, they had to take it.

  Peering beyond the filthy window glass, the room looked void of life. A lone 60-watt bulb struggled against the darkness, and shadows dominated. Scouting it as best he could, he scanned the scuffed and beaten furniture gathered along the walls, and the door standing on the far side. He couldn’t be sure of the room’s safety, but he made one last visual sweep, and pried the window open. It slid angrily against years of paint and disuse.