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Blackjack Villain

Page 56

by Ben Bequer


  I joined in his laughter.

  “Just you and me now, Rabbit-face,” I said.

  “And I think I can help. I can track him, Blackjack. He’s not hiding in shadows; he’s visible, utilizing his mental powers to make us believe a new reality. The shadow imps, the big red monster, they are all illusions.”

  Then I understood how his power worked, why he needed the dagger to physically hurt us. With his mental abilities, he could alter our perceptions; make us see what he wanted. But he couldn’t bring me down altogether.

  “Where is he?” I said lowering my voice to a whisper.

  “In front of you,” Haha responded in my ear so only I could hear. “Six meters ahead, crouched on the floor, and crawling towards Apogee. He’s reaching for Shivver’s weapon.”

  I launched myself forward, at the empty floor before me, and crashed right into something. Grabbing at it, I felt clawing hands stabbing at me from the nothing, and then I punched with my free left, and in a flash he was there. Zundergrub was in my grasp. He screamed in pain, but there was still some fight left in him. A second later, it was Apogee I was holding, her form unmarred by the horrible wounds.

  “He’s behind you,” She screamed, looking past me, but I wasn’t fooled. I grabbed his arm and squeezed, feeling the radius and ulna snap in my hand. The illusion faded, as Zundergrub screamed again, the pain making it too hard for him to remain as Apogee.

  Behind him, a few paces away, was the fractured concrete line, ending the flooring, and beyond that was the long fall to the planet’s surface. He followed my gaze down and looked back at me, a faint smile on his face.

  “I guess you win this one, Blackjack,” he managed, gritting his teeth to hide the pain of his broken arm. “I surrender.”

  When I brought him closer to me, his face inches from mine, images flashed through my head. I thought of Influx dead in a pool of blood, of Apogee, soon to join her. Though I never saw the slaughter, I managed random flashing images of the dozens and dozens of dismembered oil rig workers. I recalled Zundergrub behaving like a coward on Shard World and remembered when he mind jobbed Apogee and sent her after me. And I saw Cool Hand’s last few moments.

  He had been playing us all along, pretending to be on our side, while waiting for the right moment to forward his anti-humanity madness.

  He smiled further, I suppose from seeing my anguish, the difficulty of my position. Zundergrub had always thought of me as a man out of place, not belonging to the group. He saw me as the odd-man out pretending to be a villain. He may have been right, but by the same token, I’m no hero.

  “No,” I whispered and hurled him screaming through the chasm.

  * * *

  I rushed back to Apogee. Her face was pale, her body in convulsions, and her eyes wandered wildly to and fro. I dropped beside her, knee-deep in the pool of her blood, and grabbed her hand. She saw me and smiled faintly, reaching with her left hand to touch my chest, leaving traces of crimson from her fingers. Her other hand shook uncontrollably, as did her both her legs. A quiver came across her face and she strained to speak.

  “It’s up to you,” she managed.

  I looked at the formidable walls, and shook my head.

  “I can’t break them down, Madelyne. I can’t get you to Mirage,” I said. Behind us was a huge chasm where the floor had collapsed. If I could fly, I could go under the island and around to let them know, perhaps even grab Mirage to save her. But there was no other way. The doors were closed, magnetically sealed, as Retcon had told us, and the walls were near impregnable.

  Apogee shook her head slowly and grabbed the collar of my shirt.

  “That,” she said, looking at Retcon and the Telluric device.

  And she was right.

  I couldn’t count on the heroes outside breaking through, or find the huge hole beneath the island, and come inside the structure. Even if they did, by then, Retcon would have destroyed all of humanity. And Apogee would be long dead.

  It was up to me. But Retcon was swathed in the Telluric energy so deadly that to even come near it was to risk instant destruction. Indeed, Retcon wasn’t in any danger himself at the moment. But eventually, the energy would tear through all the remaining structure and the device itself would fall, explode and take the doctor with it. For now, Retcon was channeling all the energy towards Earth and soon it would spread across the surface, destroying all life on the planet.

  “Retcon!” I yelled, leaving Apogee behind and approaching as far as I could. “This is madness! You don’t want this to be your legacy!”

  He looked at me, but whether he could even hear me or not, I couldn’t tell. A small peninsula of concrete jutted out toward him, that allowed me to come closer, but he would have nothing of it. He lashed out at me with the Telluric energy and I was forced to retreat.

  And what could I do? I couldn’t run through the energy. It would vaporize me in a second. It was now that I longed for my old bow.

  “Any ideas?” I said aloud, hoping Mr. Haha could think of something.

  “Nothing, Blackjack,” he replied. “The energy is real, and if you approach it, you will die, and I will be destroyed. We have lost, and Zundergrub has won.”

  I grabbed a huge piece of concrete and hurled it at the energy column in frustration, but it met the same fate as did Zundergrub’s imaginary red monster.

  “It’s no use,” Mr. Haha said.

  I fell to my knees, shaking my head somberly, and couldn’t help but feel helpless as Retcon destroyed the planet. I had never thought of how dire the consequences were when I had joined up with his group. Apogee was right, he was a madman, with a good heart, perhaps, and originally with honorable intentions. But he was ultimately an insane person, upon whom great powers had irresponsibly been bestowed. Who knows if that was the goal of the aliens; give select members of the people you planned to subjugate great powers, watch them destroy themselves. Then come and take what was left, and add them to their menagerie

  But right now, that was all so far away. Right now it was up to me to save the world, to save Apogee, and I had nothing I could do. I had failed again.

  It’s true that you are who you surround yourself with, it’s a reflection of your qualities, and I had chosen all the wrong people. My mistakes would now lead to me watching as the world was destroyed. I had been on the wrong side of every decision, from my youth until now. Now the woman I loved was moments from death, and the rest of the world would soon join it.

  Then it came to me.

  “Mr. Haha,” I said, reaching into my pocket. “What would happen if I were to ignite a nuclear device near the machine?”

  I drew The Nuke from my pocket, the last vestige of Blackjack.

  “Oh, interesting. Very nice. It might work. In fact, if you notice Retcon channeling downward the energy from the apex of the device down and around him?”

  I nodded.

  “If you were to explode the Nuke immediately above, it might backwash into the device, destroying it.”

  “Fine,” I reared back.

  “But,” Mr. Haha warned. “It will probably destroy us in the process.”

  If that was the price I had to pay, so be it. I flicked the Nuke on, and while the arrowhead was dinged and scratched from the day’s fighting, it wasn’t so damaged that it didn’t switch on, and flash the timer beacon. I set it to three seconds, and threw it.

  I didn’t bother to watch, I jumped at Apogee, wrapping myself around her, hoping I would give her some shielding from the blast. Hopefully I could save her, even if I wouldn’t be around to see it. If I could do this one good thing, one good deed, then perhaps it had all been worth it.

  Then we were swathed in light. There was no sound, that I could hear, but I think it was because it was so loud, my eardrums must have burst. The thunderclap wave slammed into us, hurling me and Apogee at the wall, but I held on to her, using my body as a shield and one arm to pin myself above her semi-conscious form. We were pelted by hundreds of pounds of debris,
rocks and metal alike, almost burying us.

  The heat was unbearable, and the air rushed from my lungs. I coughed and gasped, as the explosion was over and moving a huge boulder aside, I revealed the central core of the building. Retcon, the machine, the entire metal superstructure, were gone, only a rolling cloud of smoke and dust hovering where they had stood.

  The walls to the building were damaged and cracked with a long smeared three-fingered scar from the claws of Zundergrub’s monster, but still held together to Retcon’s engineering credit. But the doors were sealed, and the explosion had destroyed the control panels, so there was no way out. Outside the thumping of fists and weapons as the heroes tried to enter was even more desperate, as it was clear something horrible had happened inside.

  I threw more rubble aside, freeing Apogee and carried her to a clearing, laying her down softly. She was still conscious, her eyes on me, but fading fast. A tear streaked her dirty face and she closed her eyes, pressing her face against my chest.

  “I love you,” I said, hugging her tight, but I couldn’t be sure if she could hear.

  Then I remembered. Mirage was out there. Apogee’s old partner. She had asked for him, for his healing abilities. It all flashed by my head, as I stood and walked to the wall. The articles, the interviews, the Superhero Quarterly listings with all the powers of the world’s superheroes. In addition to his name-sake abilities, Mirage was a healer. Mirage could save her, if anyone could.

  I placed my fists on the walls, feeling the vibrations from the heroes’ efforts beyond. I had to break through, to knock the wall down where no one else could.

  My first blows were nothing, not even making a mark on the tough concrete.

  I stopped down-punching and swung back with all my strength at a wild right haymaker, cracking the concrete. My fist sang with pain as my bones, cartilage and muscles complained but I hefted with all the momentum I could muster and replicated the blow with my left fist.

  I pounded and pounded, a slow rocking motion, fist after fist, pummeling the wall, and soon chips of concrete fell from the spot I was hitting. I controlled my breathing and increased my pace, my fists soon caked with blood, my knuckles bare of skin, but I ignored the agonizing pain and continued punching and punching.

  I couldn’t dare look over at Apogee, a few feet behind me, in fear I’d see her dead and lose hope. It was all that kept me going, to knock he wall down and find Mirage, hopefully still alive, lead him to her so he could heal her. What would happen next? I didn’t know.

  I didn’t care.

  My fists kept their rhythmic motion, slamming with full force into the concrete. Desperation filled my heart and I punched faster and faster, harder and harder, feeling the pile of chipped and cracked concrete at my feet. I stared at it, growing more hopeful as more pieces flaked off, and putting more into each punch. The rocking of my hips, the swinging of my arms became almost a dance, a desperate dance to save the one person in the world who had believed in me, who had cared for me.

  Then my right hand broke.

  I was strong alright, but my bones could break. I recoiled in pain, cradling my damaged hand with my good one. I could feel the jagged breaks of the metatarsal bones with my left fingers. With my hand broken, how could I knock the wall down? How could I save her?

  But I wouldn’t be denied.

  I started punching with my one good hand. I’m weaker with my left, and less dexterous, but I punched and punched, and I saw that it was a losing battle. I needed both hands. I brought up my damaged right and tried to clench it, but I couldn’t, the pain was so bad. So I wrapped my left hand over the extended right fingers, and forced it into a fist.

  The pain was excruciating, as the bones snapped and complained, the ligaments fought against my effort. But I re-broke my hand and formed it into a roughshod fist. With my good hand I ripped a shred of my shirt, what still remained tucked into my waistband, and wrapped it tight around the wounded fist.

  Then I punched the wall again, and screamed in blinding pain.

  The spot where I was pounding was bloody and cracked. I closed my eyes, feeling a river of tears streaming down my cheeks, and punched again, my roar of agony resounding through the chamber.

  I threw a left, then shot in another right, again, reeling in pain from the blow.

  Then again and again.

  The pain blanched me, draining and almost faded, but I clenched my teeth and screamed again, fist after fist slamming into the opening hole, until it gave, and the wall collapsed on top of me, the light breaking through the crevasse like the dawning of a new life.

  Tons of concrete pinned me, but I fought against it, shoving huge boulders aside. My hand was throbbing but I no longer could feel anything below the elbow. I had probably pulverized every bone from my wrist on, but I couldn’t stay under the rocks. I had to warn them. I had to find Mirage. I had to save Apogee.

  “Mirage!” I screamed, the desperation in my voice shocking me. It was like a dying wail, blood-curdling and forlorn.

  I threw a huge boulder aside, and found a recognizable face running up to me, helping remove rubble. It was Captain Miraculous.

  “Apogee is hurt,” I coughed, but I’m not sure if the words were even intelligible.

  “You!” he said though I could barely hear anything with the thrumming in my ears. His voice was distant, faded.

  “Get Mirage! Apogee is dying!”

  Behind him more heroes approached in a throng.

  “You’re under arrest,” Miraculous said, holding shield up in fear I would attack him.

  “Mirage,” I shouted desperately. “Get Mirage! Apogee needs him!”

  “Mirage?” he replied, incredulous, and still wary, but after a moment he understood what I meant, and looked back, trying to find Apogee’s old partner.

  Then Superdynamic flew in, landing beside me.

  “What did you do to her, asshole?” he roared with his fists clenched, ready for a fight.

  “Wait a minute,” Captain Miraculous interjected, reaching back to place a calming hand on Superdynamic’s shoulder. “He’s surrendered.”

  To his credit, Superdynamic held back, confused.

  “Out of my way,” said a voice from behind them both, a dusty behemoth dressed in white. It was Epic. His face was a bloody mess, with a badly broken nose and left orbital socket.

  “Mirage!” I yelled, but Superdynamic found renewed purpose and moved in, grabbing one arm. A few others rushed in also, punching and kicking me. I couldn’t fight back, too exhausted, too broken.

  “Hold him up,” Epic said moving closer.

  He intended to beat me to death, rubbing his fists in excitation.

  “Apogee needs help!” I yelled, fending off the random flurry punches, trying in vain to protect myself.

  “No way,” Miraculous said, trying to come between us, but other heroes were still coming at me. Punches and kicks peppering me, I collapsed to my knees. The raw wave of people attacking me was too much. I took blow after heavy blow. Most were clean shots to the face, chest and shoulders though I felt a barrage of pounding all over my body. Blood flowed from my cheek, as the wound re-opened, and every effort to move was like fighting a surging sea.

  I couldn’t see much through the throng of heroes taking all the afternoon’s frustrations on me. Epic didn’t get his killing blow, but he joined in, his blows harder than the rest. I dropped on my hands and knees, my legs collapsing. But through the mass of kicks that rained in with impunity, amongst the legs of heroes jostling with each other to get a blow in, I could see a figure moving through the chaos. As I finally faded, I saw it was Captain Miraculous, the only true hero of the day, leading a white robed figure through the mass of angry heroes toward Apogee.

  He had found Mirage.

  Epilogue

  I never gave much thought to how my life should play out, nor what I wanted from it. Life’s difficulties spun me along like an aimless pinball, ricocheting from bumper to bumper, never accomplishing any
thing. I had given up on myself without realizing it and that’s how I slid into crime without care. After one failure, another opportunity would present itself, and I would pat myself on the back for being so clever. The truth is, I’ve been lucky that life didn’t come crashing down faster on me than it did. I had Atmosphero’s arrogance and lack of discipline to thank for managing to avoid the L.A. lockup initially. Had it not been for that, I would have never gotten out, Sandy’s legal skills be damned.

  Slipping through Blackwell’s fingers led me to think I was invincible, that it was fine to steal for a living, regardless of the cost. Infamy, fortune and women didn’t sound bad at all. But, of course, I wasn’t so clever or lucky. Most people will say it was only a matter of time before I found myself where I am -- locked away for life. My home is a place called Utopia Reformatory Colony, somewhere off the coast of Greenland in the harsh North Atlantic. I am stowed away in solitary for the rest of my life, enduring a daily dose of the stomach churning lights that keep my powers at bay. In theory, they’re going to “fix” me but no one here is trying to reform me. I’m a villain. They caught big, bad Blackjack and I will die in here if it’s up to them.

  Oh, sure, I had a trial, televised worldwide and it was quite the show. I heard the ratings were fantastic. The proceedings took place in The World Court in The Hague, a neutral place for all parties involved to exact their measure of revenge for all the damage we had caused, and to pin it all on the only guy left to blame. I was charged with basically every crime imaginable, including the destruction of the whole island. They even charged me with the murder of Cool Hand Luke. The prosecution was vigorous, representing several countries, which all wanted their pound of flesh. And they got it.

  But some recap is in order, for whatever it’s worth.

  I last saw Nostromo streaking up into the sky, off to face the alien and give us precious time. But it was out of sight from the heroes, their ships and cameras, so no one knows what came of it. I’d like to think Nostromo fought the good fight, and held her off long enough for the Telluric shield to serve its purpose. Even though it was incomplete, it sufficed to scare off the alien.

 

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