Two Percent Power: Delivering Justice

by Brian Manning

  “Trevor just got the fourth drone up, and I just spotted something else. It looks like Visionaries. They’ve just attacked the doorman in front of an apartment building.”

  “Where are they?” Patrick asked looking around.

  “I don’t know if it’s rerun related, because it’s so far out of the radius we’re monitoring. You and Abby are the closest ones, though.” Broadband passed the location to them.

  Patrick turned to see Beat Boxer tucking an earbud into her ear and scaling a nearby building with ease, like she was going for a jog in the park. He pulled the tabs on his cuffs and followed.

  Patrick hit the ground rolling, and popped up, just as Beat Boxer landed next to him. They ran to the apartment building as a couple of Visionaries exited, dragging a family out with them. One had a woman and her daughter in their grasps, while the other shoved an older man forward. Two more waited by an all-black sedan. The car wasn’t running, but the backdoor was open, awaiting the new occupants.

  Patrick and Abby did their best to cover the distance before the family reached the car, but it was just too far. He needed to get their attention before they got away. “Let them go!” he yelled.

  The Visionaries all turned to face their intruders. One of kidnappers stepped behind the mother and daughter, putting a hand on the back of each of their necks. The other kidnapper shoved the man toward the other goons standing by the car, and stepped forward to meet Patrick and Beat Boxer.

  Although these two wore the telltale Visionary inspired outfits, it was clear they were in a higher pay grade than the rest. The man that approached them had the same dark outfit, but his uniform had jagged lines radiating out from his chest down his sleeves and each leg. Lightning. Not the best rendering, but Patrick figured this guy either had some type of electricity based power, or an electrifying personality. His facial hair was waxed, with the beard and elongated ends of his mustache pulled to points. This was the type of guy who would have shaped them like lightning bolts if he could. His hair was wild and unkempt, with waxy strands radiating out, like a lion who stuck a fork into a light socket. His crooked and angular smile served to pull the whole look together.

  The other super appeared to be growing. His uniform was almost the same as the others if it weren’t for torn sleeves, and all the spiked bands that he wore around his arms, neck, and wrists. A chain hung from his collar and ran down the front of his body. Once it reached his waist, it wrapped several times around, forming a steel belt. The man’s once bare face now sprouted a shaggy beard. His nose and mouth pulled forward into a snout-like protrusion. He tightened his grip around his victims’ necks, and whispered something into the younger woman’s ear. Their eyes widened, and he just raised his head and pulled in deep breaths through his nose, feeding off the smell of fear. He smiled, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. The mouth of a carnivore. He was a Saint Bernard, trained to stand like a man, and flash a sadistic smile.

  “My friend said let them go.” Abby addressed the dog-man.

  “I’m sorry, who are you?” The electric man asked.

  “We could ask the same,” Patrick said.

  He chuckled at the challenge. “Of course, we’re being rude. My friend here is known as…” he let the introduction trail off as he waved a hand in the dog’s direction.

  “The Fear Mongrel,” the dog-man growled through streams of drool and pointed teeth.

  “Are you still using ‘the’ in your name?” The other man asked in a low voice.

  Patrick and Abby looked at each other. What did they just get themselves into?

  Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “And I am,” lines of bluish white electricity crawled all over his body. A ball grew out from his chest, glowing, and racing with energy. The electric webbing whipped around him in wild arcs. Stray bolts shot out, licking the street around him. “Kill-O-What!” he shouted, as a loud humming filled the air.

  They could feel the energy, as the buzzing even vibrated their teeth. Patrick turned to discuss the plan with Beat Boxer, but neither one could hear over the tremendous droning hum. It was like an extended bass drop, rattling the glass all around them.

  “What was that?” Kill-O-What shouted, grinning like a maniac. They were able to hear his voice, transmitted in faint warbling waves through the electricity around them.

  They gave up with the vocal exchange and just used hand signals to communicate which foe each would take on. Patrick would kill the sound, while Abby took on the low rent wolf man.

  As they moved in to engage, The Fear Mongrel shoved the women back to the other Visionaries behind him, where they were dragged to the car with the older man.

  It had been months since Patrick had to engage in hand to hand combat, and most nights, not having the weight of his collapsible batons on his hips was almost a welcome relief. It had been even longer since he had to match power for power with a super. Tonight was one of the rare nights he wished the telescoping steel rods hung from his belt.

  Kill-O-What fired an arcing blast. The wild uncontrollable energy danced and spread, almost clipping Patrick as he rolled out of the way. He returned a blast of his own, only to see the liquid shatter and dissipate with a hiss on a shield of concentrated electricity. This blow for blow approach wasn’t going to work.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say?” The obnoxious villain asked, cackling at his own awful joke

  That’s such a terrible gimmick. Patrick thought to himself, as he launched back into battle.

  Beat Boxer cranked up the volume to overcome the buzz, but she couldn’t wash it all out. It was difficult to feel the music and fall into the rhythm. The dog-man met her approach on all fours, popping upright to swing a clawed hand in an attempt to knock her head over the fences, like he was playing tee-ball. He swung from a lower angle, anticipating that she would try to roll underneath, right into the path of his swing. Instead, she planted her feet, and rocked backwards. Planting a hand on the ground, she flipped back creating some distance while avoiding the claw swipe. As soon as her feet hit the ground, Beat Boxer lunged forward again. He tried a second swing with his other hand, but he was too slow. She vaulted over it, driving a knee under The Fear Mongrel’s chin.

  She couldn’t hear the loud clacking of his teeth as they met forcefully, but she felt it the impact in her leg. That was going to be a nice purple bruise tomorrow. He staggered back a step, but stayed on his feet. Beat Boxer’s shoulders dropped a bit when she saw that there was still plenty of fight left in the dog-man. The angry growl was lost in the crackling buzz, but his snarling face, whipping slobber everywhere, said plenty.

  Patrick was on the defensive. He struggled to pull up barriers to block the rapid fire beams Kill-O-What was sending his way. Every counter attack was rushed, and either missed the mark, or was deflected by the electric field before reaching his foe. Patrick kept moving forward to bridge the gap. Maybe closer range would give him an advantage. He dropped low as another blast zapped over his back. He could feel the tingling. He rolled to avoid another, and got back to his feet. His approach was too slow. Patrick had to open his playbook to some unused tactics if he wanted to win this fight.

  As another blast crackled his way, he faked one direction, hoping to draw fire. Just as Kill-O-What read his movements, the follow up beam found only empty street, as Patrick fired two pylons into the ground, launching himself up to close the distance. He tensed his body, preparing for the pain of sitting inside the electric field, as he landed hard in a crouch, each fist punching the ground next to him. Instead of pain, Patrick felt more of an intense vibration. He stood face to face with his foe.

  Kill-O-What staggered back with a crazed look in his eyes, as Patrick grabbed two handfuls of lapel. His opponent unleashed a wave of electricity that washed over Patrick. He gritted his teeth as his muscles tensed, bolting his jaw shut, and his bones and teeth rattled, like he was holding on to a jackhammer. A scream escaped through his teeth. When the energy field dropped, so did Patrick. His
body no longer responding to signals, as he collapsed.

  The loud buzz had stopped, but there was still the lingering hum in his ears, as Kill-O-What chuckled at the fallen hero.

  “Wow, that was quite a rush, wasn’t it?” he said, bending down to address the fallen vigilante.

  Patrick could feel a tingling in his arms and legs, as his nervous system rebooted. He put most of his weight on his hands and he pulled his feet back under him. Patrick struggled as he rose to face his attacker again, pulling in deep breaths in an attempt to recover his strength. His mind was racing, almost as fast as his heart. He masked the panic as best he could, putting on a brave mask for his opponent. “Yeah, that wasn’t as much fun as I had hoped,” he said, wiping a palm down over his mouth.

  “Well, how about another helping, then?” Kill-O-What’s hand glowed, as he lunged to grab Patrick by the throat.

  Fear flooded in again, pumping adrenaline into Patrick’s system. Moving on more luck than instinct, he slipped the villain’s charged hand, grabbed an arm, and turned to execute one of the two Judo techniques he could actually perform, Seoi nage. He had only pulled this off successfully against a willing partner, but Kill-O-What wasn’t expecting much resistance, so he unwillingly went along for the ride. The air expelled from the Visionary in an audible hiss as his back hit the asphalt.

  Kill-O-What’s droning buzz bled into Beat Boxer’s ear buds. Without the full effect of the music, she had great difficulty inflicting the damage she needed to stop The Fear Mongrel. Each blow she landed had less of an effect than the previous. Each one of his glancing strikes she wasn’t able to fully avoid drained her a bit more. She was letting her fear take the driver seat. Or was this thing she fought pulling it out of her. Every time the two separated, his smile grew and he raised his snout to sniff the air in long inhales. Each time he came back just a bit stronger, or faster.

  She did her best to wrangle her emotions and just focus on the songs trying to overcome the loud buzzing. She tried to push the thoughts of what would happen if one of the dog man’s powerful swings found its mark flush with her body.

  “I’ve got this,” she said to herself. Her voice was clear in her head.

  Once more, Fear Mongrel rushed in, this time attempting to latch on with his powerful jaws. She rolled over his back, followed by flickering trails of red. She landed, and lashed out with a spinning kick, hoping to time it right, connecting when he turned back to face her. She planted both hands on the ground behind her for stability and just let her leg whip in a wide arc though the air. Her heel dug into the side of the beast’s neck, as the shock rattled all the way to her hip. It felt like she kicked a pillow tied around a flag pole.

  Abby limped back, favoring the knee and hip of her kicking leg. Her eyes were fixed on the creature crouched low, holding a massive paw just below his jawline. Finally something affected him. She wasn’t sure if her body could stand up to that type of punishment, if that’s what it took.

  Abby felt the flow, as the music reached her ears, no longer muddied with the electric humming. She and The Fear Mongrel both noticed it at the same time. They looked over to see Patrick standing over Kill-O-What, stunned and laying on the ground. The dog-man barked orders to the other Visionaries who stood back to watch the show. He told them to get the scientist in the car and head back to the Watchtower.

  Scientist? Watchtower? Abby would have to let everyone know later. If she made it out of this fight alive.

  Speetah arrived mere minutes after Patrick and Beat Boxer engaged the Visionaries. The ‘rerun scenarios’ all felt like something bigger than just keeping an eye on a group of heroes. They could do that without organizing crime sprees. It wasn’t until Broadband spotted the kidnapping that she realized it wasn’t about watching them. It was about getting them out of the way, while they did what they needed to do, without fear of a bunch of costumed vigilantes getting involved.

  She watched as Patrick threw one of the Visionaries to the ground with a thud. Just beyond them, Beat Boxer was mixing it up with some type of half man, half Saint Bernard. A car screeched away moments later.

  Patrick’s tried to move across the parking lot when the foe he threw to the ground got back to his feet, crackling with energy.

  “Stop the car!” Patrick called to her. “There’s a family inside.”

  Speetah whipped her head to track the car, a black sedan with no license plates, turning the corner, tires screeching. She pushed off, sprinting to follow. As she reached the intersection, she could hear the roar of the engine in the distance, but she didn’t know which way it headed.

  “Troy, I need you to track that car. Which way did it go?” she called.

  “Got it…uh, it’s heading west,” Troy answered.

  “Which way is west?” She raced to the next intersection where the car disappeared.

  “Left. They’re making a break for the freeway.”

  She poured on the speed, cornering hard to catch up.

  Man-vil watched as Patrick and Abby were tangling with two other supers wearing Visionary uniforms. Speetah had already left in pursuit of the car with the kidnapped family. His throat was dry and his lungs burned as he panted from the effort to reach the location. He swallowed, forcing some moisture down his parched throat. He leaned on his hammer and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, as he watched his two allies struggling to stay in the fight.

  The thought of running over there to save the day drained even more energy from him. He looked around for something he could use to get everyone’s attention. Too exhausted for rational planning, he reached over and plucked the rearview mirror from a van parked next to him. With a grunt, he hurled the chunk of glass and metal into the middle of the battle.

  The crashing of the glass breaking, and the clattering of the metal frame snapped everyone’s head in his direction. Man-vil took a deep breath, puffing his chest out, and hoisted his hammer back up onto his shoulder.

  “Did you guys miss me?” his deep voice boomed across the open space.

  He could tell that Patrick and Abby were both running on fumes. Now wasn’t the time to stand and fight, he needed to hold the villains off while they made their escape. He radioed to the other two, keeping his booming voice in check so only they could hear, as he moved forward. “I’ll keep them distracted, you two get out of there.”

  He made a show of walking over, exaggerating his long strides, and patting the head of his hammer into the palm of his hand.

  Broadband’s voice came in over the radio. “Crystal saved the family. They’re headed somewhere safe now.”

  Man-vil saw Patrick seize the opportunity, as he fired a blast of milk at the villain he faced. The beam splashed off an electrical field, but it bought him enough time to get away. The strange dog like villain Abby faced turned, ready to chase him down. Man-vil ran towards the two Visionaries, as Abby made her escape unnoticed. The more human foe lashed out with a bolt of lightning towards him. The electrical blast struck a man of solid iron, sending smaller bolts, whipping out in all directions.

  Man-vil returned to his flesh form and glanced down at his arms and legs. “I actually felt that a little. Kinda nice.”

  As the dog-man moved to attack Man-vil swung his oversized sledge hammer into a nearby trash can, bolted to the sidewalk. The metal cylinder tore free of its lashings, and tumbled toward the two supers, spewing garbage in its path. It struck an energy field that wasn’t there a second earlier, releasing a huge pulse of light and shower of sparks. The explosion, and bright flash was even brilliant enough to mask Man-vil’s escape, as bits of burning trash and debris rained around the two villains.

  Patrick, Abby, and Man-vil reached a nearby safe zone that Broadband directed them to. He let Speetah know where they were, so she could bring the family by to talk. The black sedan pulled up, and the engine shut off, but the headlights stayed lit. Speetah kicked the door open to make room. Her long legs made it difficult for her get in and out of the car. She reached back i
n and pulled out the unconscious body of the Visionary getaway driver, dropping him on the asphalt. One of the back doors opened, and the older man stepped out. He leaned back in to say something to the other passengers, and then approached, side by side with Speetah.

  “I can’t thank you guys enough for saving us,” he said.

  “Why did they pick you?” Patrick asked, massaging the muscles in his arm. “It seemed like you were a specific target.”

  “You’re a scientist, right?” Abby asked.

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m a physicist. I’m not sure what they may be looking for, but much of my research had been accessed by an external source not too long ago. I think the lab where I work was hacked.”

  “Well, you’re safe now,” Speetah said. “We let the police know where you would be meeting us, so they should be here in no time to get you and your family somewhere safe.”

  They talked about the suspicious activity around his job. The physicist did his best to explain his work, and why it might be important to Sight and his goon squad. Most of it went far above their heads, but they got enough of an understanding to figure out that he was being kidnapped to help build some type of device. The physicist guessed that it was some type of device to boost a certain super ability. Without all of the information, he was just as clueless.

  The three supers said their goodbyes and left the scene as sirens approached.

  CHAPTER

  18

  “I’m sorry, did you say his name was Kill-O-What?” Boost asked

  “The rerun scenarios were intended to keep us busy. Keep us off the scent while they did their dirty work,” Speetah said, ignoring Boost’s question. The team had regrouped to discuss the evening’s events.