by Various
I watched as the twins zipped overhead, timing my advances for when they were turned away. I headed toward the center of the square I’d drawn up and eventually settled on the roof of the building I felt most likely to be visited by Monger.
My leg, though better than the day before, was still really stiff and sore. It made it hard to move without surging. Fortunately, the application of my power blurred the pain. After a few uncomfortable minutes, I found a nice patch of shadows to disappear into and did just that.
The morning passed slowly. I was beginning to question the validity of my deductions when there was a sudden eruption of pulse fire in the distance. I tried to zero in on it, but it seemed to be coming from several places at once. Cursing under my breath, I clambered to my feet to get a better read on the direction. That’s when I realized it was coming from several areas, pulse bursts exploding at the opposite corners of Market Valley. My throat tightened, my instincts warring with my intellect; the former wanted to chase the sound, the latter knew better. I glanced upward to see the twins holding their position in the sky, not bothering to react to the disturbances.
That’s when a loud crash shook the building I was on.
I darted to the ledge to see Monger rip the security gate from the wall and use it to bash in the door behind it. My hands trembled upon seeing him again. He looked vicious and powerful, tearing aside the remnants of the door with ease, a howling alarm going off as he did. I’d expected him to bolt inside, but he didn’t. Instead, he backed away from the building and moved into a patch of darkness across from the door he’d just torn apart. His gaze went to the sky, and I ducked behind the ledge, watching.
My thoughts careened through my skull, lost and out of control. The building I’d come to believe was Monger’s target was a pharmaceutical company office that, until recently, had numerous government contracts for undisclosed pharmaceuticals that had been doled out to the military for years. Then they shut down, out of nowhere, going dark with each and every location being liquidated and no buyer on record. They simply ceased to exist. That didn’t happen when things were good. And though I had no concrete evidence to link Monger and the disappeared company, I was making some connections that made sense to me. His arrival helped cement them, but then why would he hide?
The roar of Willow and the Wisp’s approach brought me back to reality. I surged for cover. The last thing I needed was them thinking I was the one who’d set the alarm off. They swooped past my hiding place on the roof and hit the ground with a determined thump outside of the wrecked door.
That’s when it hit me.
The twins had made a similar connection; that’s why they hadn’t bothered with whatever was happening on the fringes. Those were just distractions. The real purpose of all the attacks had yet to be revealed, and I had just realized what it was. I ran to the ledge and opened my mouth to warn them.
Too late.
Willow slipped into the darkness of the building in search of Monger, leaving her brother outside for just a moment.
I caught a whiff of the same acrid substance that Monger had used to heal himself when we’d fought, the same one I suspected he’d used to force early manifestations on the street kids. I saw him emerge from the darkness. Fear clutched my throat. I could say nothing as Monger rushed up behind the Wisp and drove his fist into the hero’s lower back.
“Remember me, friend?” Monger asked, the question lilting, playful.
A horrific crack reverberated through the alley, the sound of a great, rotten tree toppling in a storm. The Wisp fell, clutching his spine, screaming.
Monger clasped the fallen chimeric’s head and lifted him, driving his face into the wall until the Wisp went silent, blood staining the wall, his famously white hair turned a wet crimson. My stomach churned. I found I couldn’t look away.
Willow burst from the door and collided with Monger, brilliant flashes exploding from her fists as she flailed at her brother’s attacker. “I’ll kill you, Phillip!” she screamed, her voice ragged and raw, piercing in its intensity.
Monger stumbled backwards under the ferocity of the blows, each one leaving a searing brand on him. Smoke billowed from the wounds, and I could see charred flesh at the impact points. Willow kept on without restraint. She struck blow after blow, driving Monger down the alley.
“You’re dead!” she howled, repeating the same after each punch, foam-flecked spittle spewing from her mouth.
Monger wilted under her assault. He dropped to a knee and threw an awkward overhand punch, catching Willow in the face. Such was his power that her legs were knocked from under her. She hit the asphalt, landing hard on her back, her head striking the ground. A groan slipped from her as she tried to get back to her feet. I could see she was having trouble getting her body to cooperate, stunned by the unexpected blow.
Despite his smoking wounds, Monger swept his hand toward his mouth, and I spied the smile that peeked out from beneath the skull mask where Willow had seared through the material. Dark smoke billowed from his palm, dredging up memories from when he’d done the same with me. Another moment and Monger would be healed, and Willow would die, just like her brother.
Before I could convince myself not to do something stupid, I leapt from the roof and surged to the ground. I took Monger by surprise, grabbing his hand in both of mine as soon as I landed. He growled, but there was nothing he could do before I surged again, driving us both into the wall behind him. We hit with a boom, him feeling all of it, me feeling nothing. Blood spilled from his mouth from the collision, but he was still far stronger than me.
I felt him push back and realized I couldn’t hold him even as wounded as he was. His acrid black power billowed before me as he fought against my surging arms. He was winning, my hands and body trembling too hard for me to exert all of my force in such tight quarters. A punch struck me in the back of the skull, and I saw stars and felt my strength fleeing my body.
“No,” I screamed. “No more!”
I let the surge go and felt his hand crash into my face. He laughed, and then went silent as realization dawned on him.
I drew in a deep breath, drawing the acrid stuff into my lungs. It burned going down, but there was a buoyancy to it that filled me with energy. Adrenaline set fire to my veins.
“No!” It was his turn to scream as the chemicals roared through my body. I let them take me.
For an instant, I felt unbeatable. The aches and pains of my face and leg and skull were gone, dust in the breeze, blown away. I tightened my grip on Monger’s wrist and surged, feeling the bones within grinding as I wrapped my legs around his back and dragged him to the ground. He screamed and thrashed beneath me. I felt his shoulder come loose of its socket with a moist pop.
It had been so easy.
I let go of his arm before I pulled it from its socket. It didn’t matter what he’d done, how many people he’d hurt, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him, no matter how simple it would be under the empowering influence of the strange power-drug. Instead of ripping him apart, I slammed a volley of punches into the back of his skull until he went limp and silent.
I glanced up to see Willow on her feet, swaying as she tried to shrug off Monger’s blow. She wasn’t quite there yet, her crystalline eyes hazy and unfocused.
“Stay where you are,” she said, but there was no conviction behind it.
“I’m…” I started, doing my best not to look at the wreckage of her brother in the alley. “I’m sorry about…your brother.”
Her gaze shifted in his direction, and I used the moment to surge away, throwing myself into the sky and over the nearest building before she could muster the sense to follow. She let me go, and I avoided the cops and pockets of DCD bloodhounds as I fled home.
Epilogue
The news carried the death of the Wisp across every station. His killer would be tried and convicted in the media long before he would reach a real jury. Willow had done the right thing. She let h
im live, arresting and carting him away. Yet, that was a pretense I knew to be false. She might not have killed him then and there, but he would find his way to the research farms eventually, once the media spotlight faded. I could only hope he would vanish, never to harm the people of Port Haven—or anyone, anywhere—ever again.
It was more than he deserved. I couldn’t help feel a pang of guilt at helping with his condemnation, even with him threatening to kill me. I didn’t want any part in his death, and there was nothing I could do to change his fate. It had been set long before he’d come to our fair city.
Rumors leaked through the news of Monger having once been a partner of the twins, all three of them supposedly responsible for an accident that occurred, which had left Monger dead on some unknown battleground in some war the government would never admit to fighting. Apparently, the part about his death had been mistaken.
He’d been after the twins all along, leading them to the pharmaceutical company that had helped fuel their powers during their training. The accident that had instigated everything between them the same one that got the company shut down, it seemed.
The kids had simply been pawns, the keys to his revenge, and the ones who’d involved themselves would likely share his future, such as it was. The law wasn’t kind to rogue chimerics.
As for me, the weird chemical healed me; in fact, left me feeling better than I had in a long time. Physically, at least. My leg and face were normal again, not a hint of the injuries I’d sustained, but there was a weird jitteriness that came with it. I felt like I should be out running laps or meeting Alice in Wonderland for drinks. For all its healing properties, I had a bad feeling I was going to regret inhaling that foul shit.
I slumped on my couch, listening to the sweet crunch of Overkill, and watched the news on mute while I flittered across the net looking for information on the strange chemical and the company that created it. My decisions often came back to bite me in the ass, so I suspected this one would be no different. Now that I was a crime-fighter, I might as well be proactive and look into it.
Besides, wasn’t like I had anything else to do. With two more days until payday and no job to go to, a girl could only sleep so much.
May as well spend that time saving the city.
The Other
Rob J. Hayes
The brick wall crunched and crumbled and burst apart under the force of the Other's punch, yet still he missed. As the dust and mortar settled, he scanned the lavishly-furnished lounge for his adversary. She was nowhere to be seen.
The Other felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around to see a faint shimmer that let him know she had just been there. Behind him, a pillar weakened by one of his punches suddenly collapsed, and the ceiling groaned. Glancing upwards, the Other decided the floor above him would hold, though not much longer. These apartments weren't built to withstand a chimeric fight right in the middle of them.
“P-please leave…” a male voice whimpered.
The Other glanced at the man cowering in the corner. His shirt was sweaty, his tie was crumbled, and his greasy hair was a mess. He looked like a car salesman, and his apartment boasted a variety of sports memorabilia, an old-style jukebox, and a pinball machine. It was the apartment of a man with lots of money and not enough to spend it on. The Other turned away, ignoring the civilian. Sometimes people got caught in the crossfire. Sometimes they deserved it.
“If she's here, then I'm here,” the Other said as he glanced about for Blink. “Gotta catch her.”
A girlish laugh erupted into the room, and the Other turned to see Blink lounging in a La-Z-Boy chair, a wide grin on her face. Blink didn't bother to wear a costume or disguise, she figured she didn't need to, she figured she would never get caught. So far, she was right, and she taunted the Other every time they met.
“Catch me? Good to see your sense of humor is still as strong as those big arms of yours, hero. Aren't they getting a little bit tired of chasing me?” She winked and blew a kiss.
The Other leapt forward, faster than any normal human could hope to move, and grabbed for the woman. Blink vanished in a shimmer, and the Other grasped at thin air. He kicked a chair in frustration. It flew across the room, crashing against the far wall and splintering into pieces.
“Why do you even want to catch me, hero?” Blink’s voice asked.
The Other spun to find her crouching by the panicked apartment owner. The man cringed and wept, and the Other grimaced at his cowardice.
“Is it because I've been bad? Do you want to punish me?”
“Grab her,” the Other ordered the civilian as he took a step forward.
The Other had watched the surveillance videos of Blink robbing the bank; she had to concentrate to take things with her. It took time, and it slowed her down. He needed to find a way to slow her down.
Blink glanced at the cowering civilian. Grabbing her was the last thing he was about to do.
“Surely you'd prefer to grab me?” Blink said, meeting the Other’s eyes. She bit her lip flirtatiously, then vanished. The civilian let out a squeak and scrambled away.
The Other spun around, yet saw no sign of where she had disappeared. He growled and stamped a foot on the floor. The ceiling gave another groan.
“You should probably go,” the Other said.
“A-are y-you talking to me?” said the civilian.
The Other was still staring up at the ceiling, and he gave a nod.
“I don't think any of us should leave,” Blink said, appearing by the apartment door and locking it with a click. She twirled the key on her finger and vanished again.
“You think that will stop me?” The Other was faster than most humans and a lot stronger. His body could take a beating, and his flesh knitted itself together only a few hours after being cut. A wooden door provided no challenge.
“Not at all,” Blink said, reappearing on top of the pinball machine, as far from the door as she could get. “But I think it will stop him.” She pointed at the civilian. “I also don't know how much longer the ceiling is going to hold, since that pillar you destroyed was probably load-bearing.”
Taking two steps, the Other kicked the door off its hinges, then turned and strode back toward the civilian. Blink watched from the safety of the pinball machine, a smile on her face.
The ceiling gave another groan.
“Get up,” the Other shouted. He grabbed the normal, pulling the sobbing man to his feet.
“I wonder if there's people in the apartment above,” Blink said, brushing back her short blonde hair and shooting the Other a stunning smile. “I'll check.” She vanished.
The civilian was dragging his feet, paralyzed by fear. It wasn't the first time the Other had seen such a reaction. With a growl, he pulled the man in front of him and gave him a hard push, sending him stumbling out the door. The man collided with the hallway wall and crumpled with a loud moan. He may have pushed the man a little too hard.
Turning back to the room, the Other looked around, trying to figure out why Blink had been there in the first place. After their last meeting, he had managed to develop a way to track her teleportation, a small beacon in his suit’s gauntlet pinged a direction a few seconds after she blinked. It was short range, tracking some sort of unique displacement wave she left behind. The Other wasn't entirely sure how it worked, only that it did. He had tracked her into this apartment and found her questioning the civilian he had just thrown into the hall.
“There's an elderly couple upstairs,” Blink said, reappearing in the studio kitchen. She picked up an apple. “I don't think they have any idea of the danger they're in.”
“Get them out of there, Blink,” the Other growled. He was scanning the civilian's desk, looking for anything that might tell him what she had been looking for.
“Me?” Blink said with a feigned gasp. She took a bite out of the apple. “I'm a villain. I do villain-y things. You're the hero, hero. Big and strong and able to punch clear
through load-bearing support pillars. I think this one's on you.”
“Dammit, Blink!”
He turned to see an apple sailing through the air at him and no sign of the teleporting chimeric. He caught the apple, then glanced at it. A small blinking device was lodged in the missing chunk. The world went white and ringing flooded his ears. The Other shouted in pain, his hands going to his eyes and rubbing. Something hit him in the chest, and he lost balance, falling atop another something that collapsed beneath him.
The Other flailed a moment before rolling onto his knees. The world was a glittering bright white light, then darker shapes appeared. The ringing faded a little, and he could hear a repetitive banging coming from somewhere above. He struggled to comprehend the mess his senses reported.
Slowly pushing back to his feet, the Other regained his vision. He held his hands in front of him, blinked away their blurriness. The banging continued and something else, a groaning noise. It dawned on him a moment too late that Blink was jumping up and down on the apartment floor above him.
The Other started to run as the ceiling collapsed and came down around him.
#
Daniel's alarm never failed to get him up. He used to keep the offensive thing on his bed-side table; after his first arm modification, his former clock ended up a crumpled collection of plastic and wires. He bought a new one and placed it on the far side of his bedroom, ensuring he couldn't reach and destroy it before fully waking. It never quite removed the urge to tear the bleeping thing apart though.
Sitting up brought some interesting aches. A twinge in his neck elicited a gasp of pain. Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his neck. Dust floated down to the floor around his toes. He pinched some of the debris between his thumb and finger, it was coarse and white and crumbled; it reminded him of mortar or cement dust.