Legends Can Die

by Jeremy Croston

  Rich waited until Frosty was gone before he said anything else. When the coast was clear, “Father Reigart informed me of the situation. Shit man, this is bad.”

  How was Old Rich in communication with Father Reigart? “Listen, I don’t really understand,” I started before getting cut off.

  “If these guys find out you’re no longer The Negative Man and just some broken asshole, they will kill you.”

  This just added to everything else. “What’s a Negative Man?”

  Chapter 2 –

  Friday Late Evening; Cell Block A Twenty Two

  A rough hand shook me so hard that I nearly fell off my bunk. It was Old Rich. “What the hell was that for?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

  He motioned for me to get out of my bed and join him near the open doorframe. I did so, agitated that I was awake. He pointed out across the main area of the cell block. Standing in the middle was Frosty and beside him was the warden, Brandon Porterhouse. The warden handed Frosty a stack of money. “I want Staley dead by the end of the week. I don’t care how it happens and no one will trace it back to you.”

  Frosty was flipping the bills in his hand, a greedy expression formed on his face. “This is a lot of money, warden. But money ain’t good to me in here, especially when you’re asking me to kill a legend.”

  Porterhouse just barked a gruff laughter. “A legend who’s powerless. Dr. Sanders couldn’t fix him, so he’s just a regular Joe. Honestly, nothing much is stopping me from going in there and just shooting him myself.”

  I felt fear, real fear, for the first time since waking up. Old Rich just shook his head, looking disappointed. Frosty came out and asked him, “Then why don’t you? Or is that because he’s not as powerless as you say he is and if I die, it’s no biggie.”

  “Do you want the money or not?”

  Frosty’s eyes never left the cash in his hand. “You get this money to my baby momma and tell her we’re all square on child support, comprende?”

  The warden snatched the money from his hand. “Write the filthy woman’s name down and I’ll get it to her.” He mumbled something else that was probably pretty bad, as even Frosty had to bite his tongue not to respond. When he had all the information, “End of the week, Staley is dead or you are. Like I said, I don’t care how, as long as his body ends up at the prison morgue.”

  Porterhouse left Frosty to his thoughts as he left our block. As the door closed, “Shit, I’m screwed now.”

  Rich slapped me across the face. “No you’re not, cupcake. You’re the Negative Man for crying out loud. We just need you to remember that.”

  I grabbed my jaw, as he really whacked me. “How can I be someone I don’t remember? And what was so great about this Negative Man guy?”

  “Sit.” He pointed to his bunk and I dropped down. I felt a history lesson coming on. “A few years ago, you came to this city and basically brought it to its knees. You had a fight for the ages against another super named the Dark Lion. You lost, or so we all thought.”

  So I was a loser? I didn’t see how this helped my situation. “This is great and –”

  “I’m not done.” I’d broken his train of thought and he looked pissed. “After you lost, you took on the role of a civilian and infiltrated the Dark Lion’s inner circle. Hell, half of the thugs locked up in here, you probably had a hand in.” He realized he was talking a bit too loud and lowered his voice. “Point is, you were doing good things, so the city thought.”

  “Let me guess,” I started. “I betrayed this Lion guy?”

  “Oh you did more than that.” Rich’s eyes lit up. “You killed him in one of the most brutal fights most people have ever seen.”

  I was a killer? I didn’t know how that sat with me. “Is that why I’m in jail?”

  “Ha! Reigart told me you were well behind the times and this is just proving his point.” He reached under his cot and pulled out a cigarette. After lighting it, “You went legit again, taking on the public face of Wonder-Tech. Hell, I had one of your cellphones.”

  None of this even made a dent in my memory. There was nothing before waking up in the prison’s hospital ward. “Sounds like the guy I used to be was pretty impressive.”

  Ignoring me, “And when we thought you couldn’t get any more bad ass, you took on the police department, ridding the city of Grimes and the rest of his corrupt cop coalition.” Rich took a long drag on the cigarette. “Then it all came crashing down. A new hero, the Morning Lynx arrived and sent you here with something called the Stormfall.”

  When Rich said Stormfall, flashes of memories ignited in my mind. Nothing made sense. There was a warship, the CW Poseidon. There was something called Titan. A young kid’s face was staring up at me. “I figured you’d be happy if I died,” the kid said, over and over. I covered up my eyes, trying to focus on the jigsaw puzzle that was my previous life. Nothing would come together, though.

  Rich shook me by the shoulder again. “I don’t know much about amnesia, but this ain’t going to be easy. It needs to happen quickly, though.”

  My heartrate began to pick up. A hit out on my life from the warden. I was a murderer – no just not a murderer, apparently some sort of super criminal. “I’m missing something. How was I able to do all of this?”

  “Jericho,” he put his hands together, “you’re a super powered human. Not just any old powered person, either. You are probably the most powerful one on the face of the Earth.”

  As if I didn’t need any more information overloading. “Rich, how do you know so much about my past? For all we know, this could be bullshit.”

  “That’s a story for another time.” There were footsteps coming our way. “Shut up and go back to sleep. We’ll talk more later.”

  I did as he said, but keeping one eye open just enough to see Frosty and two unknown prisoners lurk outside our cell. Would they make a move already?

  ****

  Saturday morning came and I was still alive. The door to our cell block opened again, this time just the guards rounding us all up to go to the cafeteria. I fell in line behind Rich, keeping my head down and my mouth shut. Different prisoners walked up to me and just nodded knowingly. Were they in the know about the hit or about my past life exploits? It was impossible to tell.

  The cafeteria was a wide open room lined with different rows of benches attached to plastic tables. I got my meal of eggs and potatoes and went over to where Rich was already seated. There were two other guys with him. As I sat down, “Andy, Wade, you know who this asshole is, right?”

  The one named Andy reached his hand over. He was a bit of a taller guy and his brown hair was like a curly mop. When he spoke, he carried a light English accent. “A pleasure, they call me Andy Dos Cervezas.”

  That was an old name. “Why do they call you that?”

  Grinning, “Last time I had just two beers, I killed a man with a pool cue.”

  Mother of God! The other guy, the one named Wade introduced himself. His face was framed with a blonde beard that stretched up to his head and formed an awkward mess of hair. “I’m Clickbait,” he said nervously. “You an undercover fed?”

  “No, I’m the artist formerly known as The Negative Man, apparently.” It was half a joke, but he went with it.

  Still a bit jittery, “Sorry, they’re out to get us. Had to make sure you weren’t one.”

  The four of us ate in silence, but watched each other closely. Wade and Andrew finished first and told Old Rich they’d meet him up in the yard later. With them gone, “Couple of interesting characters.”

  “We’re going to need both of them to keep you alive. Andy as the muscle, obviously.” That made sense since he killed a man. “And don’t let Clickbait fool you. The man is a freaking genius. He used to work discreetly with a government guy named Miguel Cintron and hacked files against a presidential candidate. Mind you, he did this on our POS computers in the library.”

  “Shut up.” That was crazy. “He hacked into classified files from prison
?”

  “Yep and with his help, he’s going to get a few more files for me, ones you’ll want to see.”

  I asked him what he was talking about, but Rich just waved me off. He went back for seconds, which seemed pretty lenient for prison. Talk about tax payers’ dollars being wasted. He polished that off and then he addressed me again. “C’mon kid, let’s hit the yard. We only get to see the sun for about an hour. Don’t want to miss that.”

  Chapter 3 –

  Sunday Morning; Prison Parish

  The only two people to walk into the Parish this early in the morning were Old Rich and me. A devout Catholic, the guards had some leniency towards the man and let him come here to study and worship in peace before the rest of the inmates filed in. Imagine my surprise when I got there and Father Reigart walked out from the old wooden door behind the pulpit. “Jericho, Richard, I’m glad you both are here.”

  “Father, what’re you doing here?”

  The huge man extended his hand and shook my own. “The former prison chaplain is a friend of mine. He owed me a favor in which I’m currently using.”

  Rich was giving me this shit eating smile. So that’s how he knew everything. “How long have the two of you been in cahoots?”

  The Father walked around to where we were and sat in the front row pew. We followed his lead and joined him. “Ever since Warden Porterhouse made his intentions clear, I knew I needed to find someone on the inside. Richard was an old student of mine; I knew I could count on him once again.”

  God, it was impossible not to like the man. A man of God, he had this mischievous streak that was quite apparent. “You said I was a student of yours, too?” I asked. He knew my whole history, but never went into detail like Rich did the first night I was there.

  He made this half shrugging motion. “Student isn’t the word I’d use. You were more like a lost soul who kept coming back to port.” He pointed over to the small confessional. “A great many stories were told in a room just like that at my house of worship.”

  “Father,” Rich was getting impatient, “time’s not our friend. We need to put a plan in place. I got two guys in our block to help out, but the warden’s got unlimited resources.”

  “Is one of your friends a gentleman who goes by Clickbait?”

  “I did just as you asked.” So Wade was picked for the assignment by the wily Father. “I also slipped him the USB drive you gave me. He should have the information in no time flat.”

  Reigart nodded knowingly. “While I cannot tell you what I know he will find, as it would break a great many church doctrines, that information will put a damper in Porterhouse’s plans for sure.”

  It was my turn to lean in. “Why are you doing this? If I’m as bad as Rich explained, don’t I deserve whatever comes to me?”

  “It is my hope that one day you remember.” It was two minutes to eight and the rest of the inmates would be here soon. Reigart got up. “Jericho, you were already living in your own personal Hell. It is my belief that you recognized that and were about to change, for the better.”

  Rich grabbed my arm. “C’mon, let’s get out of here before anyone sees us.”

  We made a hasty goodbye to the Father and were out of sight just as prisoners were filing in. Rich didn’t take us back to our cell block, which I thought was odd. “Shouldn’t we have a guard escort?”

  “The guards here are just as corrupt as the warden. I paid ours off with some Molly.” He looked down the corridor. “Coast is clear, let’s move it.”

  We hustled down the hall and went through the door at the far end. It was the library. I went to ask what we were doing there and Rich signaled for me to stay quiet. I didn’t see anyone else in here, though that meant little. For a prison library, this was a pretty big place.

  Along the far wall were three rows of computers. We’re talking the old school, late nineties, early two-thousand models. In the last row, wearing a set of headphones and typing with extreme vigor was Clickbait. Rich waited for Wade to see us before moving in. When we got close, “Wade, tell me you’ve found something.”

  Wade, even behind a computer, looked like he’d drank way too much coffee. His hands barely stopped, even when they weren’t typing. “The USB, it’s like a key, man.” He went back to the screen. “I’ve unlocked three doors, each getting me closer to something – something BIG the warden never wanted anyone to know.”

  “Good man.” We heard a door open form somewhere in the library. “You’ll have to keep the search up later, Wade. Let’s get out of here.”

  The three of us snuck out just like we had when Rich and I first entered. Outside, our guard had returned and he looked a bit worse for wear. He haphazardly led us back to our cell block and locked us in. Most of the crowd was apparently still at the parish, but when we entered, Frosty was sitting along the entrance. “Yo Jericho! Great day to be alive, ain’t it?”

  “It sure is.”

  It wasn’t lost on me that was probably a veiled threat against my life. It wasn’t lost on Rich or Wade, either. Wade took the stairs up, leaving Rich and I to go back to our cell. “I hope that dumbass isn’t going to pull anything today. Shit,” Rich lashed out. “I hope you can fight, we might need it.”

  I hoped I could, too. However, there was something else on my mind. “Why are you risking your skin for me? Honestly, what’s in this for you?”

  “Don’t believe in the good Samaritan bullshit, do you?” I didn’t, not in prison, anyway. “I wasn’t a good man, Jericho. I sold drugs, beat people within inches of their lives, and generally enjoyed carnage and violence. So when I got put in here, yeah, it put things in perspective.”

  “You’re avoiding the question.”

  “When Father Reigart approached me, he offered this as a chance for some redemption. Sure, the world thinks you’re a dirtball,” that wasn’t reassuring, “but if the Father sees something in you, so do I.”

  To me, that seemed ridiculous. “You’re putting a lot of weight into the beliefs of a man who could very well be wrong. I could remember tomorrow,” I snapped my fingers, “and return to my super villain ways.” I still wasn’t even sure if that was real or not. Supervillain…

  “You feel like killing anyone now?”

  “No why?”

  “Then there’s a chance Reigart is right.”

  The rest of the morning went by pretty much the way one would think being stuck in jail would go. There was a lot of sitting around in quiet. Rich wasn’t in the mood to talk and the rest of the guys in the cell block seemed pretty somber. I wondered if Frosty or Warden Porterhouse had already gotten to them. I’d find out soon enough.

  When the guards came to get us for lunch, Rich and I were the last ones in line to go. As soon as Rich went through the door, one of the guards put his hand on my chest. “Sorry Staley, you need to stay behind.”

  “Wait, what?”

  “No questions.” The guard shut the door and locked it. I pounded on the door, but there was no answer.

  I stood there, dumbstruck for a minute or two before I felt someone walking up behind me. Turning around, I saw Frosty and two men flanking them. “This ain’t nothing personal. The warden, he’s got connections. In exchange for your corpse, my little girl gets taken care of.”

  There wasn’t much I could do here. Rich hoped I could fight, I think we were about to find out. “You’re not scared of me?”

  “Nah, holmes.” Frosty and his friends began encroaching on me. Each one was carrying some kind of prison made shiv. I was weaponless. “The warden let me in on the secret – you don’t remember who you are and your powers are gone.” Damnit! “Like I said, this ain’t personal, just business.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do. Outnumbered three to one, the odds weren’t in my favor. At least not until he showed up. The tall, curly haired Englishman snuck up on them. None of the three men were prepared for what happened next. Andy Dos Cervezas tapped the man om the left’s shoulder. When he turned around, he got a well
-placed right hook to the jaw, delivered by a hand the size of an iron skillet. The guy dropped like a sack of potatoes.

  Frosty was incredulous. “Andy, what’re you doing here? You’ve got nothing to do with this!”

  “Pardon, but it looked like you were about to shank my friend.” I didn’t know he considered me a friend, but hell, I’d take it. Andy pulled out his own ominous looking shiv and tossed me a smaller one. “Now this seems like a good old, fair fight to me, don’t you agree you little bugger?”

  Frosty wasn’t pleased and that’s when bedlam and mayhem broke out in Cell Block A Twenty-Two.

  Chapter 4 –

  Sunday Morning; Waves Park

  **Kyle**

  Officer Parker Lattimore was on the scene when I showed up. As the head of Chief Brad Woods’ new Vigilante Integrity Unit, he had reached out to me the moment he took the job. It had taken about two years, but the two of us were on a very equal pattern now. Lattimore looked disgusted as I crept out of the early morning shadows. He pushed his dishelved blonde hair out of his face, “We got another brutal beating, ML.”

  ML – The Morning Lynx, that was me. I took up the mantle from my deceased father, John Wonderton. He had been The Dark Lion, a vigilante who struck fear in the hearts of criminals through brute strength and lethal force. I wanted to be more on the up and up. Pacific Station had a bad history with supers who abused their powers. I was doing my best not be one of them.

  That’s why I relished the chance to work with Lattimore and the V.I.U. Looking down at the body he was standing over, “This is the fourth body in two weeks to be beaten to a pulp in such a fashion.”

  I didn’t know who this man was. He seemed to be yet another drifter, perhaps, who may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like the other bodies, this guy had little pinholes all over his body. It was like someone stabbed him to hell and back while at the same time brutalizing him with his fist. “You think maybe we’re looking for two supers?”