Killing Capes

by Scott Mathy

  Several feet ahead, there was a tall chain-link fence blocking Dwight’s way. He thought of all the Capes he had seen leap something like this with no effort. Realizing the fatigue on his own body, he knew he would never be able to replicate the stunt.

  Spinning around, he saw Ar-Marie glide into the alleyway, weapons systems engaged and pointed at him. It seemed the Doc’s little noise maker had done a fantastic job of getting her good and angry. He loved irritated Capes; they were always easier to trick.

  The teen engaged her suit’s speakers, “Cute arm tech, Dwight.” She said his name as if to mock him, like having a normal name was an insult. “Did your psycho doctor make it for you?”

  He knew there was a long-standing arms race between Ellis and the Guild’s think tank to create the next world-changing technology. Ellis was always ahead, much to the frustration of the Guild’s science division.

  “Yeah, and she made this with you in mind,” he said, pulling a glass jar from his duffel bag. He unscrewed the cap and grabbed a weighty glob of the gel with his organic hand. Working it into a ball, he was careful not to get any on his cybernetic replacement. “Your suit looks like it needs an upgrade. The Doc said I could probably beat you without any new toys.”

  The insult worked. If there was one thing these technophiles couldn’t stand, it was having their work laughed at. She engaged her thrusters, fists extended as if she intended to dive right through him. As she rapidly closed the distance, Dwight pitched the goo ball into her helmet.

  The E.M.P. gel lit up with dispersed electrical energy; it overloaded her circuits, severing her control of the accelerating armor. Her suit continued flying past Dwight, who quickly leapt out of the way. Ar-Marie slammed into the fence, completely tearing it from its mounting. The heap of contorted metal, suit and fence, came to a halt halfway into the street beyond.

  Dwight ran past the crumpled chain-link tangle and the Cape trapped inside, her suit immobilized around her. She reached out with a trembling, unpowered arm, still trying to catch him.

  He made it another half block before a circle of voltaic energy rose from the ground and surrounded him. It formed a glowing dome, caging him in. The solid electric barrier separated into bars as the twins, Volt and Jolt, descended from the sky. They gracefully landed outside of the enclosure and began pacing at opposite sides, like predators circling a meal.

  Dwight was forced to kneel as the cage grew smaller, the bars’ energy reaching out at his flesh. He searched frantically through the bag, looking for something to use against his two assailants.

  One of them – Volt, he thought – leaned in close to examine their quarry. “Look, brother, it seems we caught the bounty. Guess we get that upgrade to our quarters?”

  The other – Dwight always had trouble telling these two apart – mirrored his sibling’s movements. “Do we have to hand him over in one piece? I’m sure our dear friend would like to get some payback for all the suffering he’s caused her.”

  Dwight wasn’t sure if he meant Ar-Marie or Linda at this point. He drew two familiar objects from the pack. The barrier the Capes created left just enough space from the ground to roll the objects out of the cell and under each of the twins.

  In unison, they both looked down just in time to see the devices go off. Dwight, at the center of the cage, ducked down on all fours, tightly guarding his head and neck with his arms. The incendiary grenades detonated beneath each of the twins, bathing them in flames. Their uniforms ablaze, the twins’ concentration failed to maintain Dwight’s cell. It collapsed immediately, freeing him while they attended to their personal infernos. Dwight cautiously untucked himself to watch the Capes flailing in terror. Their screams echoed through the streets as hefted the bag over his shoulder.

  “You really should stop and roll!” Dwight shouted as he resumed his sprint. He wasn’t sure if they would understand his instructions before the fires claimed their lives.

  The next few minutes were free of any obstructions, but all the while Dwight kept an eye toward the sky. He had no way of knowing if Linda or the other Cape were still pursuing him. He spotted the subway entrance as he exited the last alley. Racing to the stairs, he slid on an unexpected patch of ice in front of the top step. His feet flew out from under him, sending him plummeting down the stairs. His shoulder hit the concrete first. The momentum carried him further before he landed again on his elbow. When he finally came to a stop ten steps down on the first landing, he couldn’t move apart from a crippled writhing.

  He cursed through gritted teeth. After a few moments of struggling on the concrete, he rolled onto his aching back. Near the entrance, a newly-formed cloud of ashes coalesced into the man in the cloak.

  Linda drifted down beside the Cape as he began to pompously walk down the steps. For all his effort, Dwight fell for a stupid magical trap. His bag of gadgets had continued down the steps past him; the only tools he still had were his arm and its hidden last-chance serum. He debated whether to use the drug. With its effects, he’d probably be able to beat them, but he’d never make it to Wulf by the time it wore off.

  The Capes kneeled over him. Linda rested a knee over his right elbow, pinning the prosthetic to the ground. “Neat tricks there, Dwight. When did you become a badass?”

  “Lots of things change. Like getting hunted by my ex and her cronies,” he tried to let out a choked laugh. The impact of his fall made this impossible.

  The magician went to collect the tech bag while Linda held him down. He didn’t bother to struggle against her. Even if he hadn’t broken something during his tumble down the steps, her powers would be more than enough to prevent any chance of escaping.

  She kept a casual eye on him, knowing there was no fight left, “You really did it this time, Dwight. There’s no way out of this. What were you thinking?”

  “I got an offer I had to take. It wasn’t anything personal,” he answered, his spirit fading along with his grip on reality. The stairs appeared to have done more damage than he initially thought.

  “You really believe that?” she sounded disappointed – hurt, even. “Of all the jobs you could have picked, you chose killing superheroes?” The other Cape returned to her side, stark hostility in his gaze. “What’s that, Abra?”

  Dwight hadn’t heard the name before. He remained silent while the man replied, “This guy was ready to start a war. Practically a whole armory in here.”

  “Have you checked on the others?” she asked.

  Linda was a respectable leader; her people were at least a secondary concern after their target. It was still better than most captains. As he understood the Guild’s mentality, the majority of the captains would be checking for press at this point. Interviews were always more important than an injured ally.

  Abra closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Ar-Marie is going to need some repairs, but is fine. Only thing hurt is her pride,” he reported. “Volt and Jolt both have third-degree burns, but they’re alive.”

  “Fantastic,” Dwight coughed. “Guess I’m not so great at my job after all. Can you add that to my arrest record?”

  Abra reached down and decked Dwight across the face. The force caused his skull to rebound off the concrete beneath it, disorienting him further.

  Linda caught her teammate’s arm before he could hit her ex again. “Hey! Disarmed prisoner here; we don’t work that way!”

  “This piece of shit killed Phoenix and Ionus. He’s a murderer, plain and simple!” the magician shouted. Clearly, Dwight had stuck a nerve with this one.

  Linda remained calm and serious as ever, “We’re taking him back to HQ. He gets a trial, just like anyone else.”

  In his concussed state, Dwight searched his memory for “Ionus,” but came up with nothing. He’d done a few jobs prior to the Immortal Phoenix, but those had been low-level street thugs, not names – certainly not Guild members. He meant to ask his captors about the discrepancy, but all he managed was, “Iuunah,” before he lost consciousness.


  Fourteen

  He dreamed of happy days, of times spent in his loft apartment with Linda and Molly. He thought of the warmth of having a place he felt secure and appreciated. It was his lack of anything extraordinary that kept his wife grounded in the real world rather than the unbelievable life she had with the other Powers.

  Those were days spent doing what he could to make her existence outside of her work as comfortable and mundane as possible. He thought he did an acceptable job, cleaning and spending time with Molly while he waited for Linda’s return.

  His memory fell cold and distant as he recalled the day she had flown to the rear balcony and let herself in as she always did. It only took the look in her eyes to tell him that their life was over, that something had broken. Within an hour, he was walking out with a single suitcase and the cash in his wallet.

  Slowly regaining consciousness, he felt the blinding light above him. It blazed in his recovering eyes. Out of reflex, he tried to reach out with his right hand, but couldn’t. Whoever put him in the cell had removed his prosthetic arm.

  Everything hurt. His mind sorted through the events of the day: the Midas job, Ellis’s workshop, the chase. He pieced back each part until his vision adjusted to take in the small, sterile cell he was lying in. Beams of ruby energy formed bars separating his enclosure from the outer hallway. From the sophisticated look of the cell, he reasoned he must be somewhere inside the Guild’s tower. The huge structure sat at almost the opposite end of downtown from StarPoint; the two buildings practically stared at each other.

  He checked the contents of his prison. The rough military cot he lay on was nothing spectacular, but looking across at the next cell, it wasn’t standard. Maybe Linda still had some sympathy for her injured ex. His only other amenity was a combination sink and toilet. There wasn’t even a mirror so he could check his sore face. He felt his eye where Abra had punched him; it was tender to the touch, most likely bruised.

  Sitting up, he felt the pain in his ribs. At this rate, he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. He fell back in his bed, realizing he’d have no choice but to wait for someone to visit him.

  His thoughts turned to Lia. She was a prisoner as well – of her abilities and the implant that controlled it. The tiny light of the inhibitor held back a flood of power. She was capable of so much that it destroyed her. He wanted to feel sorry for her, but in truth, it scared him. The Powers were standing at the verge of godhood while so few of them knew how to completely control their abilities. Lia’s amazing skill to freeze a person’s mind or shut down a superhuman’s powers was only the tip of an unfathomable iceberg.

  He fell asleep, this time dreaming of being trapped in Ian’s game. His name appeared above him with the slightest sliver of health beneath it. At first, he was only fighting a single Power, his very first job: the street thug. The instant he defeated the low-life with his knife, another sprung from the digital road. Dwight’s avatar launched itself at each as they came into reach, dispatching them with efficient disdain. Each exploded into a stream of pixelated light to reform immediately a few feet away. Soon, there were dozens of Capes assaulting him. He was quickly swarmed. They tore at him, pulled him down into the mass of bodies. He could feel himself choking for air under their mass.

  Dwight inhaled sharply as he woke, sweating in his cot. The pain was still there, but he could at least move. Taking in his surroundings again, he found Linda sitting in a folding chair just outside his cell. The energy of the bars hummed a low song as he turned in bed, resting his feet on the hard floor.

  “Didn’t want to watch me sleep through a monitor?” he asked, pointing up to the camera fixed on his every move. Just for emphasis, he got up and limped to the other end of his restrictive prison. The lens followed his movements in perfect pace. He returned to his seat, the tracker panning back to its original position.

  She let him finish his useless demonstration before she spoke, “I’m here to ask you some questions. It would be easier for everyone involved if you answer them truthfully.” Her tone was coldly professional.

  “Fire away. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, focusing on the background headache tormenting him behind his eyes.

  She lifted the clipboard in her lap and began reading, “Where is Midas? He never came back after your broadcast ended.”

  Dwight was taken aback by the question. Had the crown prince of New Haven’s Powers run away? Did his encounter with Bernard hurt him that much? He decided to answer without any sarcasm, “I have no idea. The last time I saw him was when he dropped off the Winnebago at the Doc’s place. He took off as soon as we drove away.”

  “I don’t believe you for one second, Dwight. You killed him, didn’t you?” She was already going off-script. The disgust in her voice was palpable.

  “You watched the feed. If I wanted to kill him, I would have done it then and there. I made the choice to let him live.” He thought about that; it had been his decision whether the most powerful person New Haven had ever known lived. Some days, he was surprised where his life took him.

  Linda was quiet for some time. “Next question: who do you work for?”

  Again, no reason to lie; it was all going to come out anyway, and he didn’t owe the man any favors. “Elijah Wulf; you know, the guy at the top of StarPoint. I was going to clear all of this up when you and your friends arrested me.”

  Her eyes had a stinging confusion in them. The idea of her ex being in the employment of the most reviled person in the city must have felt like a betrayal. She couldn’t argue the truth of his statement; that probably hurt more. “When did you come into Mr. Wulf’s employ?”

  He lay back on his cot, searching for the answer; it felt like so long ago. “Two weeks after I left. He contacted me about a job for him. I had no idea it would be killing your kind.”

  “You have to say it like that?” she asked. Linda never liked to think that there was a legitimate separation between herself and normal people.

  “That’s the truth, though. Normal people don’t fly. They don’t fling cars, or survive getting thrown into orbit, or breathe fire. Normal people get killed by things like that. Normal people get killed by Powers like you.” The verbal filter he had built up for conversations like this stopped working some time ago.

  He kept going with the story, no longer checking for her emotional response, “I applied for a security job. It didn’t say anything about being at StarPoint. A few days in, Wulf approached me about an opportunity. He only said he needed some muscle.”

  The story felt stupid now that he said it aloud, “I knew that part was bullshit from the start, but went along with it anyway.” He knew he was being used, but buried it under Wulf’s sense of morality.

  “At first, we cleaned up street trash who were out of control. They were Power gangbangers, but no one who’d been in the papers. There were four different jobs over about two weeks. We took down one or two at a time. Wulf’s crews would arrive after to clean up the mess and collect any tools we used. The first big name we actually killed was Atomic Dan; Wulf made it look like a break-in. I did all the planning after.”

  He recalled something he had heard from his capture. “I don’t know who ‘Ionus’ is – or was. That wasn’t us.” He wanted to clarify his own handiwork for his inevitable trial, if he was allowed one.

  She looked puzzled, “Ionus’s death completely matched the profile of your killings. It was clean, tailored to his abilities, and very personal. Someone would have to know quite a bit about his private life to have pulled it off.”

  Dwight raised an eyebrow; even that hurt like hell. “Well, it wasn’t us. His name was never in one of Wulf’s briefcases.”

  He thought back to the forged case with Midas’s name in it. Bernard had faked all the information so that Dwight would help him. Maybe he didn’t need Dwight’s aid with Ionus. “I had a partner in all this. You may be able to find something on him. His name is Bernard; he went by Goliath when he worked with Midas. He may be your man.
”

  She was hesitant as she added the note to her sheet. “You expect me to believe that out of all of this, there’s just one that you had no part of killing? Why should I believe you?”

  He thought for a second, looking for proof. “How did he die?”

  “He was beaten, then had his neck broken. We found him face-down in his dog’s food bowl.”

  Dwight held up his right stump. “This is what happened the one and only time I fought a Power without backup or superior tech. Killstreak nearly killed me for what I did to his little bastard.”

  She saw his point. “Alright, so you didn’t do that one. Who did?” Linda wasn’t known for her investigative skills.

  “It must have been Bernard. If you can find a Goliath in the Guild with Ionus, you’ll have your connection. He’s been killing your people because they took his powers. Midas thought he was dangerous; I guess he was right.” It all made sense; Dwight felt angry with himself for not putting it together sooner.

  She still seemed unconvinced; her pen wavered as she debated whether to write the words. “Dwight, taking a person’s powers is the ultimate taboo for us. If Midas did, there must have been good reason.”

  He shook his head; morality wasn’t a concern for the Powers he had met over the past three months. “They did; he admitted to it. Midas, Ionus, they must have been a part of it if Bernard is targeting them. Midas said they used telepathy to block his abilities…” he trailed off, suddenly aware of Bernard’s endgame.

  Dwight sprang to his feet and rushed to the bars. They lashed out at him as he stopped in front of them, bright red arcs looking for tender flesh. “I need my phone. He’s going for Lia.”

  She may not have been convinced, but he at least had her attention, “Who is Lia?”

  He rushed to explain, his words streaming from his mouth as quickly as he could fit them together. “She’s the bald woman who was with us when we fought Midas. Lia’s telepathy is insanely strong, but she wears a limiter. She could undo what they did to him.”