Ultimate Mid-life Crisis

by Adam Graham

  “I said I’m not Powerhouse.”

  “Yes, you are. Your body gives off a distinct energy reading. Be there as Powerhouse in fifteen minutes. No police and no company. Also, you must leave his helmet outside.”

  “Uh, I don’t know why I’d have the same energy reading as Powerhouse, but my wife left her cell phone behind, and I think she has his number. So I’ll contact him, but he won’t do anything that would reveal his secret identity.”

  “If you’re both crazy enough and stupid enough not to know this, only one thing can explain you radiating the energy that Powerhouse radiates: he’s your alter ego.”

  After a long pause, Johnson sighed heavily. “In that case, there is another explanation for Powerhouse and I bursting with the same alien energy. It could also mean I’m Big Gray. We were symbiotic in Powerhouse’s first stint, and Big Gray is the actual daddy superhero, so to speak. Mind you, I’m not saying which superhero I am. We can both shape shift, so either of us could be Big Gray, and either of us could be Powerhouse.”

  Big Gray’s secret identity probably got a royalty check for his Blue Cat comic, too—and wasn’t the target. Pharaoh growled. “If you’re so determined to leave a shred of doubt about who you are, Powerhouse can wear a mask, but if he enters with a helmet, she dies. If there’s a cop or one of your super friends there, she dies. If a ringer or a robot goes in there, she dies.”

  “I want to talk to my wife.”

  “That can be arranged.” Pharaoh flipped the voice synthesizer to the Naomi profile and said, “Dave! Hi, I’m sorry. They drugged me.”

  The real Powerhouse’s voice trembled. “It’s okay, honey. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, but it’ll be okay. I’m going to get you of this.”

  Biting back a snicker, Pharaoh switched the setting back to his modified voice. “That’s quite enough. Will Powerhouse be there or not?”

  “I’ll do my best to get a hold of him and convince him to go.”

  Pharaoh sighed. “You do that, but Powerhouse had better be there.” He hung up and spun to Fournier. “Is the gas in place?”

  “Yes.” Fournier pointed to two fields on the screen. “You can control it with your mouse. Red for poison, yellow for knock out gas.”

  The Pharaoh nodded. They’d get Powerhouse. They’d use his love for his wife to lure him to his doom. He glowered at the sobriety android. Somehow, he had to ditch that dumb thing and get as drunk as a big, gray alien skunk.

  Powerhouse wore only a Robin mask over Zolgron’s fake human face as he strode towards a warehouse. Have to remind him we need to shape shift into each other until we’re sure Pharaoh gets that messing with either of us means messing with both of us. If I’m smart enough to know that’s a bad idea, it ought to be paralyzing to Pharaoh.

  He entered the warehouse and shuddered. Why here? Major Speed had disappeared here more than fifty-five years ago—and had showed back up here last year, too.

  Over the speaker, Naomi’s voice echoed, “Dave!”

  The Pharaoh’s voice said, “Will you find her in time?”

  Powerhouse raised his fist. “Your time’s run out, Pharaoh.”

  Gas poured out of the speaker. “She will die if you don’t find her first, or if you put on a gas mask.”

  Coughing, Powerhouse covered his mouth and ran at superspeed past the left row of crates and turned at the end of the aisle. His feet came out from under him and he crashed into the side of the wall. He reached under him.

  Marbles. He had to get to his feet. He was tired. The gas—he couldn’t succumb. Naomi was counting on him. He stood, only to stumble again.

  An evil voice came over a synthesizer. “Once you’re gone, I’ll buy your comic book and have Frank Miller write it.”

  “No!” Powerhouse stretched the word out to four syllables.

  The world fell out from under him and blackness engulfed him.

  Naomi parked in the driveway beside her husband’s truck and frowned at it. Why wasn’t it in the garage like usual? Why were the lights off?

  Had Powerhouse gone back to Wyoming to look for her or gone off on another emergency to avoid her? No, he couldn’t be avoiding her. He couldn’t know she was coming.

  Maybe he was sleeping for once. She pressed the garage door opener and drove into her spot. In Dave’s spot was a car covered by a tarp. Was that what the savings account withdrawal was about? Then he had to be going through a midlife crisis and had bought himself a sports car after lecturing her about how they needed to not buy exorbitant things.

  Time to find out what had been worth all that money. She got out of the van and stormed out of the car. “Tarp, get off that car.”

  The tarp disappeared off her little red Mercedes. It had a green bow on the windshield and a card that read, “To: Naomi.”

  Under the wipers was an invoice. She grabbed it. Dave had had the car custom built with every feature she’d dreamed of.

  Wow. She was a complete idiot. She bawled. And she’d thought Dave had taken the money out for himself.

  She wiped her eyes. “Everything, get back into place.”

  The invoice flew back on the car and the tarp jumped back on top of it.

  She ran into the house. “Honey, I’m home!”

  Silence buzzed. She padded down to Dave’s mancave. Vacant. She raced back upstairs to their bedroom. Deserted.

  A big manila envelope on the bed, “To: Naomi or Zolgron.”

  Naomi grabbed the note.

  Heavy footsteps came at the doorway.

  “Dave!” Naomi gasped and ran out to the kitchen.

  Zolgron stood there. A frown etched his gray face. “Dave is gone.”

  Chapter 18

  The Road to Perdition

  Hands on her hips, Naomi glared at Zolgron in her kitchen. “What do you mean, Dave’s gone?”

  Zolgron said, “He’s not on this Earth. He disappeared in an instant.”

  “Is he . . . ?”

  “Dead? No. If he were dead, I could sense his body as easily as I could’ve found you, if I didn’t mind revealing your secret identity, Justice Woman.”

  “How did you . . .”

  Zolgron laughed. “Your husband is easy to track. He’s the only human male who radiates with the energy of a Champion of my people—and you’re the only female of any species to radiate with it. At any rate, I checked the scene of Dave’s disappearance and found particles indicative of teleportation. He could be anywhere in space and time.”

  Naomi bit her lip. “Or he could’ve ended up in another dimension.”

  Zolgron thrust out his hand. “That’s pure science fiction poppycock.”

  “So says the seven-foot-tall gray alien with unlimited powers.” Naomi laughed, shaking her head. “I still don’t understand how you knew who I am or sense Dave’s presence, or his absence as the case is.”

  “Since I created your cuffs, I can sense where the wearer is.”

  Naomi blinked. “Let me see if I understand. You knew all along I’d taken one of the cuffs, and where I’d gone, and you knew Dave was freaked out, and didn’t tell Dave. Why?”

  “Why else?” Zolgron rolled his eyes. “How would me exposing you have worked wonders for your marriage? You would’ve blamed me for the negative consequences that befell you, and you’d have resented me even more.”

  Naomi bit her lip. “I don’t resent you.”

  “Yes, you do. When I’m cooking, you look at me like I’m an invading army even though it was a slave’s drudgery to you. To me, it is an artist’s joy, as well as a way to contribute. You believe I’m usurping you and undermining you as a female, which is preposterous.”

  “Let’s read this,” she said, grunting, and waved at the manila envelope Dave had left. She opened it and they both read the handwritten note.

  Dear Zolgron or Naomi,

  The Pharaoh stated he’s got Naomi and threatened to kill her if I didn’t come alone. Obviously, it’s a trap. There’s a chance he has her, so I’ve got to go
to this warehouse, rescue her, and escape the trap. That’s the plan. If you’re reading this, it didn’t work.

  Zolgron, get the scumbags who did this, but don’t go all dark and evil on me. I hate those kind of things and that’s not the legacy I want for Powerhouse.

  Naomi, if you read this, I love you. I’m sorry for not being a better husband. I’m sorry I failed. Take good care of the kids.

  —Dave

  P.S. Take care of my comic book collection.

  P.S.S. Zolgron, please see that Naomi gets her birthday present.

  P.S.S.S. I don’t know if there’s a limit to these, but I do want to see my family again, spend time with them, and take everyone to see the next Avengers movie.

  Naomi sobbed. If only she’d called him. If only she hadn’t run away from home like a little girl. “Dave is gone. This is all my fault!”

  Zolgron waved. “It’s only partially your fault.”

  Naomi snarled. “You’re a big comfort!”

  “I was being accurate. My planet’s civil code would apply thirteen percent of the blame to you, seven percent to Dave for walking into a trap, and eighty percent to the perpetrators. They’d be publicly beheaded for managing to harm him. If Dave survived, he’d have to wear our equivalent of a dunce cap and go stand in the corner. You’d have to run through the streets screaming, ‘Have pity on me, for I am a fool.’”

  Naomi sniffed. “How enlightened of you.”

  “Don’t lose hope yet. I will fly to the edge of the solar system and should pick up the ionic trail from there. Once I do that, I’ll figure out where or when they’ve taken him.”

  “Godspeed, Zolgron.”

  Zolgron patted her back and left the house.

  A moment later, an engine roared as he took off.

  Naomi wiped her tears. She had to get herself together and send out a press release announcing that she was no longer missing but Powerhouse was.

  The Pharaoh sat in his underground lair with Varlock and Fournier as he read his ex-wife’s Facebook status.

  “Thank you, God! Rosie has made a remarkable recovery. Prayer changes things.”

  Pharaoh slammed his hands on his desk. “Don’t thank God, thank me!”

  Of course, she couldn’t know. He slouched in his desk chair. No one could know his daughter’s life had been saved by another man’s destruction.

  Varlock laughed like a maniacal cartoon supervillain from his office chair to the right of Fournier’s. “We are free of Powerhouse! He will know pain and suffering, then become our pawn.”

  Fournier straightened his bowtie. “Threatening to acquire the comic was just spiteful.”

  Pharaoh glowered. “He’s put me through a ton of grief. Plus it’s strictly necessary for me to turn Powerhouse into a cynical, fictional hero, to obliterate any memory of who the real man was.”

  Varlock turned to Fournier and extended his tongue. “As for you—”

  Pharaoh snapped, “Get back to your own office. I’ll handle this.”

  “Later.” Varlock marched out and slammed the door behind him.

  Pharaoh leaned back. “Fournier, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I do serve as CEO at King Bel’s behest. He’s decided you know too much and have to be eliminated.”

  Fournier raised his eyebrow. “How quaint.”

  “To show my gratitude, I’ll offer you this deal. Take your sobriety robot away and let me get plastered, and I won’t call in the hit for 48 hours. I trust you know how to use that time.”

  “Too well, sir. I’ll leave my keys here.” Fournier smiled. “Come Albert, we have work.”

  Pharaoh opened his drawer and took a swig of whiskey. He’d wait until he got home to slip into oblivion.

  “My Lord, King Bel, you summoned me,” Overseer 157354 said as he bowed before the video screen in the communications cave.

  He wore an armless black shirt. On his scaly white arm, his horned tattoo indicated his rank as an overseer. He stared up at the most revered in all of Perdition. King Bel stood baring his dark red chest and he wore black trousers. His muscles were the most powerful, he had the perfect razor-sharp teeth, and his most awesome feature was the singular, all-seeing eye above his nose. Overseer smiled. Few overseers had the privilege of seeing it.

  The mighty face stared down. “You’ve done well in your two cycles as an overseer. You’ve proved your evolutionary superiority again and again. You’ve earned an opportunity to obtain a name, become one of the head overseers, and to gain immortality by becoming a template for future evolutions.”

  Overseer grinned. “My Lord, you are most generous with your servant. I didn’t expect this so soon.”

  “Nothing is given. Remember the words of my sacred commandment, you must take from others all that you would have for yourself.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “A new prisoner is coming to your team, Powerhouse, a false immortal that we’ve taken captive. Do not use his false name or allow anyone else to use it, for we must strip him of his false identity before he’ll willingly work to earn his true name. If you drive him to the point of slaughtering your team, you’ll earn all. If someone manages to kill him in the arena, you’ll earn the right to the ambush combat of your choice of superiors.”

  “I can make it easy for him to kill them. Why would he need provoked?”

  “His body is evolutionarily strong, but his mind is weak. He utterly lacks the sense needed to survive at all costs. I want you to develop his evolutionary superiority, but don’t fear. It won’t harm you, for he has another path than yours. He must knowingly kill them, remember that.”

  “Of course, his mind won’t properly develop otherwise. It’ll be done.”

  “You are dismissed,” his Majesty said.

  “Yes, Lord.” Overseer rose to his feet, exited the communications cave, and stepped onboard the platform. “Take me to my camp.”

  The platform sank through the subterranean landscape of caves, canyons, and plateaus. He arrived in the air above the eight members of his group.

  “Attention!” he called.

  All looked up except 203574, the tiny one, who kept digging into the dirt.

  Overseer grinned. I love this part of the job.

  A level 3 electric bolt hit Tiny.

  Tiny dropped his shovel, fell to the ground, and looked up.

  Overseer sneered. “Now that I have everyone’s attention, we’ll be having a new prisoner join us. He is a foreign captive. If you succeed in driving him to the point of insanity, you’ll be rewarded with one victory point.”

  The prisoners cheered.

  The fools. By driving him mad, they’d be sealing their own deaths.

  Tiny raised an eyebrow.

  That one was always dangerous. Overseer sent all of them a level 1 bolt.

  The team convulsed.

  “Back to your work.” He smiled and cracked his knuckles.

  Now to get his own first look at this Powerhouse.

  Naomi leaned back on the couch in her living room, watching a rally for Powerhouse at Safeco Field. Beside her, Carmella raised her hand. “Shouldn’t you be there rather than here?”

  Naomi shook her head. “I can’t show my face. Dave and Powerhouse are gone, and it’s my fault.”

  “Trust the Lord. Five hundred churches around the country are holding prayer services for him. Even the Catholic Archbishop is holding masses.”

  The next person who told her to trust God, pray, and everything would be okay was getting slapped. Naomi glowered, clenching her teeth. “As a child, I prayed and prayed for God to make Dad be nice to me. Dad never stopped being mean. That wasn’t because I didn’t trust God enough. God’s not a genie who will grant all of my wishes if I only rub the lamp of faith the right way. Besides, this is my mess and my responsibility. A good parent like God—”

  “—you’re right about the genie bit, but a good parent like God doesn’t expect you to handle alone more than you’re capable of handling alone.”
>
  She held up her hand for silence and pointed to the screen.

  The Steel Rottweiler said, “Today’s paper declares the hope Powerhouse brought us is dead. I’ve got a word. The devil’s a liar, and so is the paper.”

  The crowd cheered.

  “I love Powerhouse like a brother, and he inspired me to do this, but he has never been a source of hope, since he’s only a reflection of the hope God gives. Now’s not the time to give up or hold our heads down. Now is not the time to get retired but to get re-fired!”

  The crowd roared.

  The Steel Rottweiler raised his hands over head. “When I was playin’ for the Seahawks, and a player went down, the coach would tell us it was time to step it up. I got a message for those of you who are sittin’ on the sidelines: Get in the game! Step it up! We got work to do!”

  The crowd erupted in cheers.

  Naomi sniffled. “See? He agrees with me. It’s my responsibility to step it up as Justice Woman and patrol Seattle.”

  Carmella put up her hand. “With a ton of guilt for motivation?”

  “In the comics, that’s the only motive any superhero has anymore.” She bit her lip. “Except for Powerhouse. He simply enjoyed helping people.”

  “How will you maintain the secret identity thing, if you use his powers?”

  Naomi grinned. “Trust me. No one will suspect our powers come from the same source when Justice Woman rides in Seattle.”

  Chapter 19

  The New Status Quo

  Powerhouse lay on a stone slab in a dark cavern.

  Before him stood an alien man with white scales. Otherwise, the alien looked human.

  Powerhouse lunged at his captor.

  A charge of electricity slammed him back down.