Almost Infamous: A Supervillain Novel

by Matt Carter

  One of the most feared villains was the gene-job, Rando. Part man, part buffalo, part badger, all violent, he was used as an enforcer by many villains across Free Quebec. He wasn’t known for his speaking ability (it was said he didn’t know much more than his name, or at least the word everybody assumed to be his name), but he was known for his strength, ruthlessness, and unceasing devotion to his job. It’s been said that he was once sent to break a man’s legs and when the man fled to Mexico City, he followed him (on foot) until he had gotten the job done, before walking home.

  Many said that the only thing soft about Rando was his fur, and that may have been true, at least until he was sent to kill a school administrator in Gatineau for ripping off a black market dealer on some textbooks. Seeing the bombed-out school in shambles and the teachers trying to teach their students with pitiful resources must have changed something in Rando, for instead of killing the administrator, he suddenly donated his entire life savings to getting the school back in working order and spent his days repairing the school himself and protecting it from brigands.

  Though he remained one of Free Quebec’s most feared villains until the day he died, the school was so grateful for his help that they commissioned a statue in his honor.

  #LessonLearned: Sometimes even supervillains have a soft spot.

  22

  BIG PLANS

  The heroes were true to their word; they gave us a couple weeks off before briefing us on our next mission. We killed time. We talked with grief counselors who tried, and failed, to help us through what had happened in Amber City. We kept an eye on Carnivore after he broke out of his room. He stalked around the house sullenly, but mostly left us alone.

  The heroes didn’t.

  They were trying to make things up to us, teleporting in and playing games, bringing gifts, hanging out, helping put up Christmas decorations and even bringing a tree nearly the size of the foyer and piling presents beneath it.

  Them trying to be nice was an improvement over them threatening to activate our Creepers. It did, however, mean that we didn’t have much time to talk about more important issues, but we still managed.

  In the beginning it was just me and Trojan Fox in her workshop. Since I knew there was no way we could hide any of this from Ghost Girl, I brought her in and the others soon after. We’d been through enough together that trust wasn’t an issue.

  Of course, we kept Carnivore out. Even if he weren’t a spy, we couldn’t trust him.

  We never met up all at once, but in twos and threes we talked out plans for escape, though most of the exact details Trojan Fox and I kept between us. It was a shit thing to do, but it also meant they couldn’t spill too much if something happened in the meantime (like getting kidnapped and tortured).

  Trojan Fox said she’d been working on plans for getting the Creepers out for some time, and was confident that she could get them out if we all worked together.

  I’d trust her on that (as if I had a choice).

  She said that, if she could get access to it, she could rework the shield on Death Island so that only those we wanted on the island could teleport in or out. The island would transform from our prison into our safe haven.

  Fine. I’d trust her on that too.

  Then she started talking about breaking into the Tower.

  This is where I dug in my feet. I missed Odigjod as much as anyone else, but even if we could teleport in (which we couldn’t), and even if we could do it without the heroes catching us (which we couldn’t), it was still too crazy to even consider.

  We didn’t have much time to argue, though, because after only a few days of our Tower arguments, we got our newest drummer.

  Spasm.

  I’d gotten along with him back in training. He may have been a terrorist, but he was good people, and a helluva lot more fun to have around than Carnivore. His body control and healing abilities could come in handy with our plans, but could we trust him on such short notice?

  He reintegrated well enough with us for a few days. Ghost Girl agreed to feel him out and see if he would join us, but hadn’t come to a conclusion.

  We knew when they dropped him in on us that the heroes were getting ready for a new job. Maybe even the “big plans” they’d been talking about since training.

  We just didn’t know how big these plans would be.

  With Fifty-Fifty dead, Helios led the mission briefing. You could tell he loved the power that came with the job. Dramatically, he announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Washington, DC!”

  The holographic projectors kicked in, filling the room with swirling images of the nation’s (well, my nation’s at least) capitol, mostly focusing on all the monuments and museums.

  “Why do these things always have to happen in America?” Trojan Fox muttered.

  “Sorry, what was that?” Helios asked.

  She changed the subject. “So you’re going to have us steal the Hope Diamond? Isn’t that a little mundane?”

  She kept the sarcasm thick, so Helios wouldn’t see anything was off.

  It worked. “Not quite, we’ve got something more ambitious in mind.”

  He swirled the images around until we reached our destination. “Welcome to the White House. One of the most heavily fortified facilities in America. Home of the executive branch of government, and our democratically elected president.”

  “You say that word like it’s a bad thing,” Ghost Girl noted.

  “It wouldn’t be if the people knew what they were doing,” Helios said, bringing up an image of the president.

  “In three days’ time, President Patricia Perez will give a speech in the Rose Garden, thanking the heroes for their years of service, but ultimately arguing for a scaling back of private heroism in favor of government-sponsored superheroics.”

  “Well we can’t have that. Lower pay, more oversight, more accountability, what is the world coming to?” Trojan Fox mused.

  “Exactly!” Helios exclaimed. “And that is why you will all be crashing the speech.”

  “So you want us to wreck the place up. Then you will swoop in, save the day, and demonstrate just why independent superheroes are superior?” Geode proposed.

  “No, we want you to kill her. And anyone else who gets in your way, obviously.”

  If anyone had any pins in the room and felt like dropping them, the sound would have been deafening.

  “Nice,” Carnivore growled, smiling wickedly.

  “Why?” Trojan Fox asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Aidan, you know your history, help me out here,” Helios said with a jaunty smile.

  I did know my history. I could see exactly where they were going with this.

  “You want to start another War on Villainy.”

  “That’s the plan. Though our marketing guys are thinking the Second War on Villainy pops better. We thought we might be able to spin the Amber City gig that way after you went nuclear, but President Perez had a cooler head and calmed down the masses. Can you believe she actually talked the Protectors out of initiating worldwide martial law? Once she’s gone, all the other powers, the Soviets, the Brits, Lemuria, Atlantis… they’ll all be afraid to lose what they’ve got, and they’ll come to us. They will call upon us to restore peace and order, and it will all be because of you.”

  That was a part of it, yeah. It also meant even more hardcore cracking down on supers, rights would disappear, hell, they might even institute a draft for all supers.

  Or they might just disappear any and all they think could be threats before they actually are threatening. Just like last time, people, not even villains, would fight back, and just like last time thousands, maybe even millions would die.

  Worst of all, everyone would blame us.

  This was the heroes’ big plan, and we were their pawns.

  I didn’t like being used to kill people. I liked being a pawn even less.

  Pawns were meant to be sacrificed.

  “Now I can’t stress enough how
important it is to not fuck this mission up. I know not all of you have killed before, and that might seem scary, but it’s necessary for ensuring humanity’s future. So, what do you think, Apex Strike? Do you think your team is up for this?” Adam said, flashing his million-dollar smile.

  He meant this to be a cheeky exchange before leaving, and I wasn’t going to disappoint him. “Yeah, we got this one, Helios.”

  “Glad to hear it,” he said, starting to turn off the projectors. “As usual, you’ll find mission briefing details in your tablets. We’ve set up the Tri-Hole access you’re gonna use for the mission in the Green Room, but if you feel like using it for a little joyriding beforehand, well, we might be able to turn a blind eye. It’s cruder than what you’re used to. Had to use some older tech to make it look like you guys found your own way with a teleporter, but it’ll work. Until then, study, keep in shape, and have fun!”

  Flashing us one last wink and smile, he turned off his projector.

  “Well that was a waste of fucking time,” Carnivore growled, standing up. “Coulda just sent us a text with all that…”

  For a second it looked like he was going to hang around, but thankfully he left the room. The rest of us just sat there in silence.

  Spasm and I locked eyes. He smiled, a little nervous.

  “So, this sound as fucked to all of you as it does to me?” he asked. I looked at Trojan Fox. She pressed a few buttons on her tablet.

  “Creeper signals are quiet, for a few minutes at least,” she said.

  “Worse,” Ghost Girl said to Spasm.

  He rubbed a hand through his short, black hair. “I mean, I was all right with playing—”

  “You hate them too, right?” I said to him.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Do you want to help us do something about it?” Trojan Fox asked.

  Spasm looked around at all of us, probably wondering if this was some kind of trap.

  “Like what?” he asked, cautious.

  “Can we trust him?” I asked Ghost Girl. Her eyes flashed. She nodded.

  Trojan Fox began, “We’re dropping out of Kayfabe. We’re going to deactivate our Creepers, and I’m gonna readjust the island’s shield to keep the heroes from getting through. The island’s got enough resources to keep us healthy for years, and once I can figure out how to alter the Tri-Hole access they allowed us, we’re going to free our friends in the Tower and ourselves once and for all.”

  “And what about the assassination?” Nevermore asked.

  Trojan Fox shrugged. “We don’t do it.”

  “That’s not good enough,” I said.

  “What, you getting patriotic on us here?” Trojan Fox asked wryly.

  “No, but…”

  I steeled myself up to argue with her, which was never easy, but she didn’t know Adam and the other heroes like I did. She’d always kept them at arm’s length. I’d let them in.

  “They’ve put too much work into this. There’s no way they’re going to back out, even if we do. They might do it themselves and find some way of blaming it on us, or they’ll half-ass something from some of the other Kayfabe kids they’ve got in the Tower. One way or another, they will do this.”

  A year ago, I’d have never thought of doing anything this crazy, but looking at these people and thinking back on how they’d all changed my life, I made myself say it.

  “Guys, we have to stop the heroes’ evil plot.”

  “Why us?” Nevermore asked.

  “Because we’re the only ones that can.”

  “Like it’s just that easy?” Spasm asked.

  “It won’t be, no, but we can do it, I think. You can get all your Kayfabe files together quick, right?” I asked Trojan Fox.

  “Of course.”

  “Good, because I think I got an idea.”

  Everyone looked to me. So this was it, the moment when I’d have to step up and really become the leader.

  “It’s got two parts. And the first is me stepping down as leader.”

  I didn’t get quite the uproar I’d hoped for, but they did seem surprised, at least.

  “I’ve been a real shitty leader. I let Ad—Helios get in my head. He made me think that he was a real friend, and that you were just the people I hung out with when I didn’t have anything else to do. I thought because they made me leader, and because I was so famous, that I was the best leader this team could have, but I was wrong. Real leaders speak for their team. Real leaders don’t let their team get hurt. That’s why I nominate Trojan Fox to be our new leader.”

  I wish I had a picture of her face then, because she was never this surprised. “Wait—”

  “Seconded,” Ghost Girl said, raising her hand. Nevermore, Geode, and even Spasm were quick to raise their hands after.

  “I hate you,” she said.

  “Get in line,” I shot back. I was relieved. A great weight was taken off my shoulders (and put on hers, sure, but she could handle weight a lot better than I could), and I was fairly certain that this was the smartest thing I had ever done in my life.

  I continued, “But I think you’re going to like the second part of my plan, because for once, I don’t think it’s that terrible…”

  It actually was that terrible, at first at least, but once Trojan Fox and Spasm put their tactical knowledge together, it immediately started to improve.

  We waited until the day the heroes wanted us to do the job. I felt like I was going to lose my mind most of that time, that the heroes would figure us out, that they would come in and kill us or just set off our Creepers, but they didn’t. Combine Trojan Fox’s attempts at dampening their signals with the fact that they couldn’t hear everything anyway and we were clear come game day, which was one hell of a relief.

  Helios said they would take the Protectors’ Tri-Hole access down for ten minutes during the president’s speech for routine maintenance, which would be enough time for us to do our duty.

  We wouldn’t, but that ten minutes would give us enough time to turn the world on its head for the better if we could pull it off.

  When it was finally time, Trojan Fox called Nevermore, Ghost Girl, and me to her workshop.

  Spasm and Geode joined us a few minutes later, carrying Carnivore over one of Geode’s massive shoulders.

  “He’s out?” Trojan Fox said.

  “Sleeping like a baby,” Spasm said.

  “But he’s bleeding.”

  Spasm shrugged. “What can I say, he’s an awkward carry, fell down the stairs a coupla times before I could knock him out proper.”

  If she had a problem with this, she didn’t show it.

  “What do we need him for, anyway?” Nevermore asked.

  “Because I’d feel a lot more comfortable if we tried this on a guinea pig first, and I think he might have some in him somewhere.”

  At her direction, Geode and I tied Carnivore to a workshop table with chains.

  “Geode, hold him down, in case the chains aren’t enough,” Trojan Fox directed. “Spasm, keep him asleep, and numb.”

  “Done.”

  “Ghost Girl, how’s the Creeper?”

  Ghost Girls eyes went gold. “Its living components are nervous. It’s trying to send a signal out, but your workshop’s walls are keeping it silent.”

  “Good. Tell me if anything changes,” Trojan Fox said, waving her hands at Carnivore’s chest. “I’m going to neutralize its mechanical components. Then… then the fun begins. Nevermore, I need your bladed pendulum, perhaps half a meter high, just above his chest. And a raven.”

  “No problem,” Nevermore said, projecting her tattoos and manipulating them to Trojan Fox’s specifications.

  “Excellent. Now we’re going to want a horizontal incision, about eighteen centimeters wide, about ten centimeters below his sternum. Not too deep. And Apex Strike?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t pass out on me. Your job’s the most important.”

  “I wasn’t gonna,” I said, mostly mea
ning it. I wanted this to work, but I was freaking out a little. If this was successful, it would soon be me on that table.

  The pendulum swung lower and faster, cutting a wide, clean incision in Carnivore’s belly, his blood spattering the wall. Nevermore made the pendulum disappear after this, her raven hopping onto Carnivore’s stomach before diving its head into the incision. According to Trojan Fox, she couldn’t go in with any tools because the Creepers might sense them, and because Nevermore’s tattoos could be both real and not real simultaneously, they were our safest bet. They may have been the safest, but they weren’t the easiest to watch.

  Don’t think about being on the table.

  Don’t think about being on the table.

  Don’t think about that raven in your guts—

  The raven flapped and fought for purchase, digging and pulling at the bloody flesh. Finally it twitched, digging its feet into Carnivore’s stomach. Carnivore jerked violently.

  “Got it,” Nevermore said, her body straining from the focus.

  “His vitals are going through the roof and I can only do so much; you better get that little fucker out fast!” Spasm warned.

  Nevermore focused even harder, giving the raven strength as it dug even deeper into Carnivore’s belly and ripped its bloody head free.

  The Creeper in its beak was no larger than a salt shaker. Bloody and made of a small, dull metal, its six shaking, insect-like legs clamored to get back into Carnivore.

  Trojan Fox smiled. “Well, that wasn’t so ba—”

  The Creeper let out a piercing, shrieking call that nearly put us all on our knees, its body glowing a dull orange. Dozens of long, thin tendrils burst from it and thrashed back and forth, reaching for Carnivore. Popping arcs of electricity shot from it, shattering glass cases and burning the concrete walls.

  “FUCK!” I cried out, ducking and covering my head.

  Trojan Fox was at my side. “Dammit, Nevermore, toss the fucking Creeper!”

  The raven flung the Creeper into an empty corner of the workshop.

  Now it was my turn.

  Focus.

  The Creeper exploded into a million pieces on the floor. Something small, meaty, and wriggling fell out of its remains, but Geode crushed it under his foot.