The City That Heroes Built

by Daniel Pierce

  “He's just fucking with some people I know.”

  “You probably don't want to mess with him,” I said. “He's got a sort of beast mode he goes into, claws, strength, really tough, some really dangerous spiky armor. I'm forwarding you the picture.”

  “Yeah, cool, thanks.”

  We finished our applications for Kids Remembered, and stalked Fiver's poker history. We watched his World Series win. I pointed out Calliope in the crowd just as the announcers did.

  “Now I get that bracelet he wears,” Jen said.

  “They look pretty close,” I noted when Calliope and Fiver were on the screen after his win, “but in a subtle way. All tension.”

  “She looks pretty good for someone her age.”

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

  “It's Nigel. Complaining about the site going down, wants to meet up.”

  “Is it weird that he wants to meet up with you?”

  “I mean, we have hung out before. Never alone. Well, once, actually, he may have thought it was a date. We went to a show he said he had an extra ticket for, but we went to dinner first and he paid. Then he drove me home the long way. It was weird. After that I made sure I would only hang out when other people were round.”

  “Did he ever see you with other guys from the message board?”

  “Yeah, we used to get beers and pizza like every month. Me and Mike. Lizzy. Matt, a couple of times. Clark. Maybe just once with Clark, dude never said anything in person. Really creepy.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Is this a weird jealousy thing?” she asked.

  “From me? No. But if Nigel did out Matt as Skyborne and he liked you, I'm wondering if that was a way to get rid of the perceived competition.”

  “You're worried that you're next?”

  “I'm not a supra,” I pointed out. “But I'm worried that someone else might be next. Like what if Slowburn is a member, too. What if Nigel makes a guess based on private messages he knows Matt sent?”

  “I don't know. I'm sort of surprised that anyone on the board is a supra,” Jen said. “We're all fanboys. That's like a football player playing fantasy football.”

  “Football players do play fantasy football.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I always thought that they'd be likely to use it to gather information,” I said. “There are always a lot of people who lurk and never post.”

  “That's common on Internet message boards. Ninety percent of the posts by 10% of the users. Half don't post at all. The old time supras wouldn't be on, though. Maybe some of the lesser known independents. Mostly I imagine them pretty busy juggling heroing and their secret identities.”

  “Yeah, I guess. So what are we doing today?”

  “I was thinking… Fiver likes to drink, right?”

  “More than a little it would appear.”

  “So let's go find out how talkative he gets when he's drunk.”

  “I'm fairly certain he's an alcoholic, he's not going to be a typical friendly chatty drunk.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. I think we should go drink with him.”

  “I mean, he was Rebel, that's pretty cool.”

  “Yeah, and I've got a hunch he's getting back in the superhero business,” Jen said.

  “Why?”

  “He said he went and talked to Free Force, and they were assholes. And that they rejected him. Seems fair, he doesn't really do anything, right? Plus I looked into his last couple of months playing poker in Vegas. He's okay in Poker, wins a ton playing blackjack, lives a lavish lifestyle… and just happens to be there when a gang is beaten up by an unknown vigilante. Two months later, a new gang moved in, and it happens again.”

  “That's barely a coincidence.”

  “Running Rebels are the mascot for UNLV. I think he's from Vegas. I think he went back to his old neighborhood, saw the gang issue, and solved it. I mean, he's just a fighter, right? It's his style.”

  “That's thin.”

  “Today he asks us to look up a gang member. Ten bucks says that guy gets beat up within the week.”

  “The guy who turns into a were-porcupine? It won't be Rebel who takes him out. He's basically just a really fit martial artist without any cool flips and flying kicks.”

  “That's why he's looking for a team.”

  “So you want to hang out with him so you can hang out with his supra-team eventually.”

  “Wouldn't that be cool?” Jen asked. “Not in a groupie way, but I think that we could help them, just like we were saying. Research and all that. Maybe hacking a bad guy network.”

  “I'm not really a hacker,” I said. “I know just enough to get by.”

  “I know a little,” she said. “Look, it'd be cool. Let's just hang out and talk to him about it a bit.”

  “Yeah, okay, let's do it later tonight.”

  The news was full of Skyborne's impending lawsuits and possible arrest. Jen sent him a text telling him to hang in there, but his phone was disconnected. We spent the rest of the morning reading about him. Jen got me out for a jog, and in for a shower, and some follow on activity. We stayed in bed most of the afternoon. I napped. Jen was lying on her belly looking at her phone when I woke up.

  “Hey, you,” she smiled. Something about that moment, looking across the bed at her, the curves of her brown body, the white sheets twisted and wrinkled around us. She kissed me and got up, I watched her walk into the kitchen.

  My apartment is basically a big open space. There are two bedrooms, but since I'm the only one there, my bed is in the living room, and I use the bedrooms as storage.

  “Coffee?” she asked. She pulled on one of my t-shirts.

  “Yes,” I said. “Please.”

  “You know, we could try to connect Fiver with Skyborne,” Jen said. “If he's ever going to get in touch again.”

  “I feel like having your identity exposed is going to be a hassle for a team of supras.” I pulled on jeans.

  “Yeah, maybe, I just figure they'd have something to say to each other. You want to see if Fiver is up for a beer?”

  I sent a text. You want to grab a beer with me and Jen.

  He sent back, Busy. Maybe later.

  “He's busy.”

  “Busy beating the hell out of a gangster.”

  “Meh.”

  “We should listen to the police scanner and see if we hear anything interesting going on,” Jen said.

  We listened to an online stream, but didn't hear about anything interesting. We heard calls for code this or that we had to look up, drank some beers, basically wasted the evening talking.

  At about eleven thirty, Fiver texted, Beer? Usual spot. Be here for a while.

  I showed Jen. “Let's go,” she said.

  We ubered over to Murphy's. Fiver bought a round. Cal sat in with us. He looked every bit of badass soldier. I got a good look at his replacement leg. It looked like something from science fiction, powerful metal with hydraulics.

  “That's a pretty sophisticated leg,” Jen said.

  “Second generation cybernetics,” Cal said.

  “You were Spec Ops?” she asked. “Was the story about the government was using veterans to experiment on with cybernetics true?”

  “More like they let me take it for a test drive,” Cal grinned. “A lot of guys wanted to get back in the fight, and had the skill sets the government needed to keep around, so we opted for the tools to do the job.”

  “What'd you do?”

  “Exfil. ”

  “What's that?”

  “Exfiltration. Removing people from a hostile environment.”

  “Cool. Where at?”

  Cal started going into a couple of war stories. Jen hung on to every word. I felt the little pang of jealousy, but got over it. You can't walk around your whole life wondering if your girl is going to be interested in the next guy. Still, I was relieved when the subject was changed by a new arrival.

  “Got a minute?” she asked Fiver. She was
fairly plain looking, 40-something, wearing jeans and a t-shirt under a blazer.

  “Hey, Bobbi,” Fiver said. “Grab a seat. Beer?”

  “No, just need help.”

  “Ah, Bobbi Cannon, private eye,” Fiver said by way of introduction. “Cal, Jen, Tom.”

  She ignored us. She passed a photo over to Fiver.

  “I need to find her. Normal look around town didn't work, could mean she's in trouble. Can you ask around?”

  “I'm sort of short of favors on that side of the street.”

  “This one is important.” She looked desperate.

  Fiver looked reluctant. “Okay, I can ask someone, but this is going to cost a lot.”

  “Whatever it is, I'll pay it,” Bobbi said.

  “Doesn't work like that, darling,” Fiver said. “I have to pay it.” He got up. “I need you on this one, Cal. You down?”

  “Yeah, bring my tools?”

  “Nah, just ready for exfil.”

  “Coat, then.” Cal went and got his coat. “Yeah, you guys can look after the bar, right?” He followed Fiver out the door without waiting for an answer.

  “I guess that's us,” Jen said. She got up and went behind the bar.

  I moved to sitting across from her. Bobbi stood next to me.

  “I think I will have that beer,” she said. “IPA, please.”

  Jen poured her a pint.

  “So how do you know, Fiver?” Jen asked.

  “Same way as you, I suspect. I did him a favor, or he did one for me, and back and forth and so on until now. In a couple of days he'll ask me to follow someone around, or check out someone's spending habits, or ask someone a question about something.”

  “Yeah, same,” I said.

  “So what do you do?”

  “I just gave him a ride somewhere and talked to someone for him.”

  “And what did he do for you in return?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Sure.” She sipped her beer. We sat through baseball highlights and a few people looking for beers. A few young people played pool in the corner. Some old timers were in the back. Aside from an occasional outburst after a particularly amazing shot on the pool table, it was a quiet hour before Bobbi's phone rang.

  “Yeah. Okay. On my way,” was all she said before leaving. Fiver and Cal returned fifteen minutes later. Cal started pouring beers.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, squeezing past Jen.

  “Yeah, you find the girl?”

  “Yeah, she's okay,” Cal said. He passed a stout to Fiver. Fiver drank half in a long drink. His knuckles were cut and bleeding.

  “You need to let me bandage you up,” Cal said.

  “Later, I just want a beer.”

  “Should have let me bring tools, man.”

  “Nah, I needed that.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Cal went silent. Fiver just drank his beer. Cal handed him shot and a second beer. They both went down quickly, but he slowed down for his third beer. We talked baseball until Cal rang the bell above the bar. Customers departed slowly.

  “I guess we'll take off,” I said.

  “Fuck it,” Fiver said. “I'm telling them.”

  Cal shrugged.

  “I asked around, got pointed in the direction of a group of traffickers. We went in and got the girl. Not a lot of people standing at the end of it. Cal called in the cops when I started, they were there by the end to take the girls somewhere safe. We rescued the one Bobbi wanted, took her back to Bobbi's office. You guys read about the supras all the time. That's what it is, when you've got powers. You interrupt your night out to go smash in the skulls of some evil bastards, then go back to your beer.”

  “Is that what you meant about the price you have to pay?” I asked. “Going through all the mental anguish afterwards?”

  “Hell, no, that's awesome. I just got to beat the hell out of twenty guys that sell women and children to be raped. I enjoyed the hell out of that. The price is the information. I had to ask someone who knows where to find evil people for help. That makes her just as evil, and now I owe her. That's the price.”

  He finished beer number three.

  “Anyway, it was a good night.”

  “So did you take out that gang member you asked about?” asked Jen.

  “Man, you might not want to say so much,” Cal said. “Got the scramblers on, but still.”

  “Fuck it,” Fiver said. “They know who I am. They want to fuck things up for me, there are other ways of doing it. Besides, we've already got the back up plan in place.”

  “Yeah, man, I don't want to lose my bar.”

  “Don't even worry about it.”

  “So you did,” Jen said.

  “Yeah,” Fiver said. “I told you he was fucking with some people I know.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I picked a fight with his gang, he came out and went beast mode and I punched him in the throat.”

  “So you have superspeed, right?”

  “I'm not really that fast compared to a lot of people.”

  “But that's your power?”

  “No, I just do kung fu.”

  “So in between acting as a middle man, you dabble in vigilantism?” Jen asked.

  “I don't think that's an -ism,” Cal noted. “And nothing wrong with helping people out.”

  “Aren't you afraid that someone with major powers is going to crush you, though?” I asked. “I mean, you never know who is out there. Look what happened to the Guardian Angels, and the Guard, and…” Oh, yeah, I was talking to a guy who lost a bunch of teammates in battle. “I just mean it's dangerous. You've seen that first hand. How do you go back into that? Why wouldn't you stay away?”

  Fiver shrugged. “Sentinel can't be everywhere at once. Who is helping the guy on the street while he's saving the world? If I was too afraid to do anything, what about the people who can't do what I do? Should everyone else walk around in fear every day? I do what I can.”

  “It's not like we don't mitigate the risks,” Cal said. “We watch each other's backs.”

  “So you're like a supra-team?” I asked.

  “We're two guys,” Fiver said.

  “And you're putting together a team,” Jen said.

  “We're looking around,” Cal said. “What do you do?”

  “Nothing,” Jen said. “We're just fanboys.”

  “Information brokers,” Fiver said.

  “So how did you guys meet?”

  “Cal's my bartender.”

  “So you just coincidentally drink at a bar owned by another vigilante? And that comes up in conversation how?”

  “I got jumped. Cal helped me out.”

  “I thought you were a supra-punching machine,” Jen said.

  “Sure, but he didn't know at the time.”

  “So just like that you guys became friends?”

  “I mean, we work together,” Fiver said.

  “More like best friends,” Cal said.

  “And you're looking to put a team together,” Jen said.

  “I was looking at joining up with someone who was already doing things,” Fiver said. “You have to be driven to be a hero. You don't just come across guys like that. Cal did his time in the military; dedication comes pretty easy to him. Most people aren't like that. So, yeah, we're looking to add to our powers.”

  “So, I had Matthew Weall's number, Skyborne, but he's not answering or I could set up a meeting for you guys.”

  “That's very thoughtful of you,” Fiver said.

  “So have you asked your old teammates to join up?”

  “I wouldn't even know where to look,” Fiver said. “I don't know Sloppy's last name. He dropped off the face of the earth when Apparition died. Virtuoso split when Valor died. He was the key, he held everyone together. No leader, no team. I mean, I don't know if he could have kept Sloppy in the group, he was just devastated. But he would have had Virtuoso and me. He had the charisma and the drive.”
/>   “Why did he go after Thirteen?” I asked. “He attacked her after Apparition died.”

  Fiver sighed. I didn't think he was going to answer. He tapped his glass. Cal refilled it. Fiver held the beer in two hands, stared at it while he spoke.

  “It started when Todd died. His power, he basically screamed across the sky and smashed into people. It never hurt him, but it would take out anyone he hit. It's hard to remember how it happened, exactly, because he flew pretty fast, and I didn't, so I didn't see it. But the way Valor told it to me was that Todd's power sort of sputtered out, and he crashed into Firefly. He didn't say it was Thirteen, he didn't say her name as all, but Valor told me when we were all alone, and he was worried when he said it. I didn't really think anything of it at the time, never occurred to me until later that he might have been saying something like that between the lines. Even if he had, I would have just thought he was overreacting because Thirteen was a cunt.”

  He let that word hang in the air while he took a drink.

  “I never got along with her, and she never explained her powers except to say that she's a bad luck charm for villains. When sparring I'd always have a difficult time with her, for one thing she could fly. Laying a hand on her was a chore, she was just...confusing. She'd always offer to fly me to a fight, I've got a fear of flying, it's not even a thing since I don't fly, but she picked up on it before anyone else did. I'm pretty sure Valor even once spoke with her privately about her tendency to needle the other people in the team. Never outright, just the little things, like asking if I needed a ride when she knew I didn't like to fly, or reminding Screamingo to wear his mask when the kid suffered from really bad acne. Maybe it was an actual reminder, but the way she said it... After we teamed up with The Guard to help bring down Midas' Titans she cozied up to The Guard. I didn't miss her when she changed her name to Lady Thirteen and joined them.”

  Another sip of his beer.

  “So the day it happened we had tracked down the Sunshine Bunch. They were bank robbers, about the same age as us, not particularly violent, they liked to hit banks fast and split. But they'd just burst onto the scene, and they were hitting a bank every six to seven days. Hungry for that easy money, and it made heroes look bad for some supravillain team to just be robbing with impunity.