by David Jobe
Miss Fire had already cooked up another fireball, but this one was closer to the size of kiwi. She had ducked down into her hiding space as soon as she launched the last fireball and tried to shake out the ringing in her ears. Golem suspected that she had decided to try less zeal in her attack as she wanted to be able to hear after this. She jumped up again and launched the smaller fireball at the nearest police cruiser. She managed to get back into hiding just as the fireball struck. Her cast was off and it struck a handsome male police officer in the chest as he began to draw a bead on her with his shotgun. The explosion blew him backward, flinging him like a weightless doll across three lanes of parking, until he splattered up against a van; arms splayed outward, the shotgun gone. The body dented the side of the van, making a spatter pattern on the side like butterfly wings. The center of his chest was hollowed out by the explosion, and as his body began to slide, there wasn’t enough material left to hold the body together, and it just fell apart in a pile.
At home, the boy who created Golem saw this and immediately threw up onto the carpet in his mother’s living room. The Golem monster wavered as the sands began to lose their cohesion, but the boy regained his composure and brought the beast to bear again. Even now, the police were scattering, guns left abandoned as they all sought to survive the night.
“I think it is time to beat feet,” Golem said to Miss Fire.
Miss Fire nodded with her hand over the stretch of leather that covered her mouth. She rose on wobbling legs and began to move to the truck.
Chapter Six
Eclipse watched as the rock-monster-looking creature moved to close the gap between itself and the truck, scooping up another parking sign as it did. Shots rang out, making hollow thuds as it slammed into his body. It turned and launched the new makeshift javelin at the nearest police officer.
The sign arched through the air, and just before it would impale another officer, Eclipse floated between him and the officer. This would be the first time that Eclipse tried the shield in a real combat situation. He had tried numerous times at home with various things, but now it was for all the marbles. The javelin hit the air before him with a loud pinging noise and deflected away. The police officer, who had the look of a man who knew he was about to die collapsed to his knees, uttering what sounded like a thank you to God.
"This ends now,” the Eclipse announced. My name is Eclipse and I am here to stop your reign of terror."
The rock monster looked up at Eclipse. “A fat superhero?!” Golem laughed. “Is your power to eat people?” he asked. "Fly away fat man, before Golem buries you."
Eclipse had grown fat on insults and this would be the weakest of them. “That’s deep coming from a talking pile of shit,” he shot back.
“Screw you!” Golem scooped up a chunk of concrete and hurled it at Eclipse.
Eclipse twitched as if unsure of himself. He did not move as the concrete sailed in the air to shatter against the fat man's shield. “Give up now,” he told Golem with a commanding tone.
“Not happening,” Golem said, and launched another rock.
Again it shattered against Eclipse’s force field. “You aren’t very bright, are you?” Eclipse asked, chuckling at the monster.
“No,” Golem admitted his face distorting into a look of rage. “Nor am I alone.” As Golem spoke those last words, a woman jumped up and tossed a large fireball at Eclipse. "Roast him, Miss Fire."
Now it was Eclipse’s turn to be concerned. He had tested his force field against solid objects like bullets and rocks, trying to determine how much force would be needed to shatter the barrier. It would take a great deal to break apart his shield, but he had no idea what his shield would do in the face of fire, and more importantly, supernatural fire. It was possible that the force field wouldn’t even recognize it as something needed stopping. Instead of standing and testing the theory, he moved to dodge it instead. He might have escaped it too, if the unstable thing hadn’t exploded in midair. The fire itself didn’t reach Eclipse, but the concussive blast did, sending him propelled backward like a streaking star, until he slammed through the back wall of a gas station, disappearing into the cavernous hole he created in the wall.
***
Golem chuckled in unison with Miss Fire. “Nice trick,” he said to her.
She nodded, and Golem knew by the look in her eyes that the early explosion was unintentional. Her power was simply that unstable. “We need to go,” she said, her voice muffled by the leather covering her face.
Golem nodded. “You get in the truck and I'll cover you until I'm sure you are safely away.” He gave her a wide amount of trust. He knew that he wouldn’t be in any trouble as, again, the damage to the monster did nothing to the mind controlling it. What did matter was that if the woman tried to cheat him out of his share of the bounty. “You remember how to pay me, right?” he asked, making sure they understood exactly what he intended.
“You will get paid,” she assured him, darting across the pavement toward the truck.
Just then, a shot rang out as one of the police officers had regained their courage and had taken up a spot behind one of the cruisers.
“I got him,” Golem said, beginning to march over toward the offending officer.
From behind him, he heard a loud pop followed by the sound of twisting metal. Golem turned to face Miss Fire and was met with a look of confusion. The getaway truck now had a two finger wide hole in the hood, and smoke poured from it in great waves.
“What the hell was that?” he yelled at Miss Fire.
“I don’t know!” she admitted, crouched down now as she had no idea what to expect. “The truck is toast!”
“Then get the bag and grab a police car!” Golem yelled back.
This seemed to shake Miss Fire from her indecisiveness. She moved toward the bag, gaze darting, looking for where trouble might be hiding. She reached over the back of the truck tugging on the bag, but it didn’t budge.
“It is too heavy!” she yelled at Golem, who had just launched a broken car wheel at the hiding police officer.
“Fine!” he growled, and stomped over to the bag. With a mighty tug he lifted the bag up.
Again, there was a loud pop and Golem’s massive hand disintegrated, dropping the bag of jewelry back into the truck.
“Look!” screamed Miss Fire, pointing at the bed of the truck. There, Golem noticed another hole similar to the one in the hood of the truck. “Someone is shooting at us!”
Golem nodded as he looked at the hole. In a couple of his video games, he was asked to figure out where a shot had come from based on trajectory. He didn’t understand what it meant, but he knew Batman had followed it to a sniper’s nest. But, the game had done the math for him, so he had no idea how to figure out where the shooter was. “Why doesn’t he just shoot you then?” Golem asked aloud.
“What kind of question is that?!” Miss Fire yelled at him, having ducked behind the truck, tucking herself under the truck.
“Because we're good people,” Eclipse said, floating toward them, dusting off bits of wall from his costume. “Though, I'm thinking maybe the end justifies the means, ya know?” he said.
“What?” Golem asked.
Eclipse chuckled. “Give up or your dominatrix friend doesn’t get a trial.” He swooped a little closer, “Or an open casket funeral.”
“We would rather–” Golem went to say, but his words were cut short by another small pop. The boy at home shot up from his seat confused. The link with his monster was gone. How could that be? He had never had the link severed for him. It had always been by his choosing. He began searching the area around the mall to create another monster, but he discovered that he had a headache so strong that he could not focus enough to craft another.
***
Back at the parking lot, the monster that was Golem started to dissolve into a pile of dirt and mud, having had its face removed by another gunshot.
“It looks as if you are out of assistance,” Eclipse s
aid to Miss Fire. “Give yourself up now and face justice.”
Miss Fire continued to stare at the lump of dirt and mud that was Golem. She had seen his face explode from the blast, and the hole the bullet had made in the parking lot behind him. She knew that whoever had shot was on top of the mall. She also knew that she couldn’t hope to get an explosion close enough to the sniper without first taking a round from that horrible gun.
“I surrender,” she said simply, raising her hands.
“If I see even a glimmer of light from you, I will have my friend do to you what you did to that poor police officer,” Eclipse warned.
“I understand,” Miss Fire said.
“Officers,” Eclipse said, motioning toward the hiding officers. “I believe this is where you jump in.”
The officer that had shot at Miss Fire earlier rose with his gun swiveling from Eclipse to Miss Fire.
“I assure you, Officer, I have no intentions of harming you or your companions,” Eclipse said.
“Pardon me if I don’t take your word for it,” the police officer sneered.
“Completely understandable,” Eclipse said, floating away from Miss Fire.
“Stay where you are!” the police officer growled.
“I am sorry, Officer…” Eclipse tried to read the officer's name tag, but it was gone, and the part of the shirt that had held it was bloody. “But I can’t do that.”
“You have to answer some questions,” the officer growled, the gun trained on Eclipse now.
“Again, my apologies, Officer, but that is not going to be possible. Just know that I am on your side as is my unseen friend.” Eclipse began to rise into the air. “Besides, you have your villain to detain, though I would be sure to keep her hands as detained as possible, considering.”
The officer seemed to ponder this, and he seemed to remember the destruction her hands had caused and the gun was immediately pointed at Miss Fire.
Eclipse nodded, and shot off into the night sky, disappearing into the blackness.
Chapter Seven
God, take me away from all of this. Julian stole another glance out the window at the parking lot below the apartments. Careful to move the blinds as little as possible, he checked the parking spot designated for their apartment for the hundredth time. Easing the blinds closed, he looked to the digital clock that blazed red in the dim light of the small apartment.
"Two hours,” he breathed aloud.
"Maybe he is just working late,” his brother, James, offered from the round, four-person table that served as their dining room. "Maybe he just has a project due that he has to finish." James was the lightest skinned of everyone in their small family, so in the pale light of the overhead lamp he seemed to glow like an angel. A weak smile touched his pale lips and his face tried to sell the lie that he was not worried.
"The only thing he is finishing is another bottle, bro,” Julian shook his head and moved to sit across from his little brother. Before them were the remains of chess board, made with mismatched pieces from various different chess sets, with a figurine of Mario from the Nintendo games as the king on his brother’s side. They had a spare king, but his younger brother loved the idea of it being Mario. Julian hoped one day he could find a Princess Peach figure to swap out as his brother's queen.
"Watch your lips, son,” his mother said from the front room, though her eyes told him that fear lingered in her, too. She was darker skinned that the both of them, a deep chocolate brown marked only by the slightly pink scars that touched her face in a patchwork pattern. Huddled in her large chair, she seemed so frail in the lingering shadows. Even now the bruise on her chin was still visible despite the low light and her darker skin. "Show some respect. Your step-father keeps the lights on and a roof over our head."
"Yes, Mother," Julian sighed, in no mood to argue with his mom about the situation. Soon his step-father, Daniel, would stumble in the door, singing an off-key version of an Usher song, and then they would all play the egg-shell game. Could they keep from pissing him off before he decided to pass out? Something within Julian said that not only would they lose the game today, but in a major way. It hung like a ball of ice in his stomach, making the walls of his abdomen clinch in like how he did core exercises back in gym class.
"Jules,” James smiled up at him with that smile that made Julian believe that the world was a good place, and they were just in a bad spot. "Maybe we could finish the game?"
Julian didn't have the heart to tell him that he could end it now in two different ways. His brother was smart for his age, but Julian was smarter. "Not safe,” Julian frowned. "Best to put it away quickly, before he gets back. You don't want to have to replace another piece, especially Mario."
That caught James' attention and he began to put all the pieces away in the cardboard box they had designed for it. "I don't know why he's always got to be breaking our stuff. It isn't like chess is a loud game."
The last destruction that had taken one of the black bishops was blamed on the fact that the pieces made too much noise as they scraped across the table when moved. James had offered to lift the pieces, but the bull was loosed. Their step-father stomped over and broke the piece James held without saying another word. He just took the piece from James and crunched it under foot, no sound leaving him as he did it. Sometimes, it was the silence that hurts the worst.
"Boys,” their mother said, "sometimes your step-father has bad days. We all do. They aren't that often, so we should just be thankful for what we have."
"Yes, Mother," they both said in unison.
"I just wish–” James went to defend himself, but then a car door slammed out in the parking lot.
Julian was across the room in a hurry, sneaking another peek out the tattered blinds.
Daniel stood in the parking lot below, looking down at his pristine white Impala. From the way he stood, staring at his hands, Julian just knew that Daniel as good and well drunk.
"I should have called in a tip to the police,” he mused in a whisper. He knew better, though. Since his mother's accident, Daniel was the only reason the three of them were not on the streets with tin cans. If Julian got Daniel arrested, they would be out on the streets before the beginning of the next week. "It's him,” he told his mother and brother. That ball of ice was melting, and whatever had lived inside now wriggled around his stomach like an eager parasite.
Daniel walked for the stairs leading up to their landing, each step more wobbly than the last. Daniel was a big man, dwarfing Julian's six foot by at least half a foot. Where Julian was lean and weak looking, Daniel had the build of a man who spent his whole lifetime working on building up his body. Thick muscles roped under deep brown skin, each step a display of raw power. One huge fist was wrapped around a bottle of beer, while the other fumbled with the keys.
Seeing his opportunity to set the tone, Julian moved to the door and opened it for his step-father. "Welcome home." Julian smiled as best he could, fighting the urge to heave up the Ramen he had eaten earlier.
Daniel stopped on the landing before the door, eyeing Julian. Tucking away his keys, he ran a huge hand over the balding spot on his coarse black hair. "Oh, look, a fucking doorman. Better get used to that." He staggered in, pushing Julian aside. "Maybe you could be one of those old timey fools who stands in elevators with their little monkey suits and says, 'Gee, mister man, what floor ya wanna go to? I sure love to take you there. Surely I would."
Julian closed the door behind his step-father but remained quiet. Saying anything now would not help his cause. When he turned back to the room, he found Daniel staring at him with squinting eyes.
"Well, what ya think, boy? Sound like a job your dumb ass could do?" He shook his head and sneered, mischief in his cold eyes. "Naw, you want to be one of those weirdos who stand around in bathrooms handing out towels and perfume to people. Maybe get a little extra cheddar to help them with their piss,” he leaned in close so that the smell of bourbon and sweat swept over Julian. "Yeah, th
at's you. Coin-a-tug Julian."
The ice ball in his stomach turned to fire. Have a lot of experience getting hand jobs from bathroom attendants do you? The words almost left his mouth, but he kept it to himself. He took too long trying to swallow the witty reply and thus stood in what he hoped looked like stunned silence.
Daniel scowled, "That's what I thought. No, stomach for it." He turned to look at his mother in the chair. "Bunch of shitheads you raising. Spineless little shits." He stalked across the floor toward her, leaving an invisible vapor trail of booze in the air.
Julian tried his best not to gag on the smell and eased the door closed, mindful of the noise it could make.
Daniel wasn't paying attention to him, his eyes were locked on Julian's mother. "I think I need some of your kind attentions,” Daniel slurred.
Julian's mother's face paled as she looked up at him with big eyes. Those eyes told a story that Julian did not want to think about. Julian suspected that his step-father’s idea of attention would prove painful to his mother, who already spent most of her day on the cusp of fighting pain from the accident.
Daniel stepped closer, looming. "What ya say, Madeline? Shall we?"
Julian's mother opened her mouth, but then shut it again, seeming as if to stumble with what words to use.
Julian jumped in, "Hey, Pops. Why don't you and I play a game or something?"
Daniel swiveled on him, eyes glaring at him. "Don't you ‘hey Pops me’, you little shit. You heard what I said to your mother, and that is how it is going to be."