The Negative Man_Legends Can Die

by Jeremy Croston

  The bald one spoke first. “You’re in our territory, lady.”

  He was much better spoken than I would’ve assumed. This man struck me as very educated. “It appears I am. Though, judging by the way things went down tonight, maybe there’s a new villain in town.”

  He pointed to his brother with the spiked hair who stood beside the bald one. “No one, and I mean no one, tries to attempt a hostile takeover of Red Rock.”

  I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. The two merged into one. Immediately the combined supers jumped from around six feet tall to well over seven. They retained the figure of the bald one, but the worst part was that the face of the spiked brother would swirl around the body. Occasionally, an arm or a leg would pop out at a weird angle, including the top of the head. This was raw power, almost primordial in essence. I knew the moment I saw them combine that these were the men to help me.

  Unable to resist the need to compliment them, “Fascinating.”

  The combined brothers took a few lumbering steps towards me, rearing back an oversized fist that at the moment had a foot sticking out of it. As he lunged in to punch me, I grabbed my last cell phone and floated it into his face. I turned my back and ducked, right as it went off.

  Reclaiming my fight position, I could see the explosion knocked the brothers apart. The bald one was down in front of me and the spiked one was about five feet to the left, beside the tangled haired one. The three who were still upright didn’t move. Shock was written all over their faces, they hadn’t expected that.

  Each was carrying a phone in their pocket. “Anyone moves and I’ll blow you all up, understand?”

  The bald brother was back to his feet, but he complied with the order. “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “My name is Detonate and I want the five of you to help me get The Negative Man out of Black Lagoon Penitentiary.”

  Issue #5 –

  An Accord

  We were back at their base of operations just outside the city limits. On the way over, I learned their names: Zed, Zeke, Zane, Zach, and Zeb. The quintuplets were born with their unique merging gift and over the forty two years they’d been on this planet, had learned to perfect it. Only a concussive force, like the one my cell phone bombs provided, could force them apart.

  The bald one, Zed, was the oldest by seconds but seemed to have the full cooperation of the others. He hadn’t said anything of my plan until now. “The Negative Man, that’s one tough hombre, sister.” His reverence for Jericho was refreshing. “We all thought he’d been killed on that old warship.”

  “So did I,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “It’s only been recently and through a stroke of luck that I discovered he was still alive. Black Lagoon is said to be impenetrable, but I think the six of us can prove that wrong.”

  The second oldest, Zeke, leaned in and whispered something to Zed. The older brother nodded and gave him a pat on the head. “We’re not saying no, so don’t blow us up.” His voice was on edge. “If we’re to help you, wouldn’t it be prudent for you to help us too?”

  They were looking to strike an accord with me. “Very well, what are you angling for?”

  “A hundred miles north in the desert foothills is a small metro area, Indian Point. We were planning on robbing the Natural History Museum of its Desert Diamond.”

  “Oh?” Everyone who lived on the western side of the country knew about the Desert Diamond – a diamond so big it was said to weigh over one hundred pounds. It had no value, it was priceless. “You seem to be good at that type of thing, why would you need me?”

  “It’s not for the breaking and entering; it’s for dealing with the vigilante who prowls around up there, Sandstorm.”

  I’d never heard of him. “Sandstorm? That’s not the most intimidating name one could come up with.”

  Zed snapped his fingers and one of the younger brothers, Zach I think, brought him a tablet. He scrolled through a few pages and then handed it to me with a video playing. The title was “The Heroism of Sandstorm.”

  What I witnessed intrigued me to no end. It was a vigilante who controlled the very substance that covered the ground in these parts. He built walls to protect himself and others, used sand as projectiles, and even formed a giant fist and smashed another super like a bug. Much like Jericho, there was no clear shot of him as particles of the yellow element hovered around him, almost creating a shield. This was a worthy opponent.

  As the video finished, “So you want my help in defeating him so you can take the Desert Diamond, correct?”

  “And in return, we’ll lend our assistance in breaking The Negative Man out. Do we have a deal?”

  Zed stuck his hand out; the large calloused appendage had seen its fair share of fights. I needed them unfortunately and it appeared force wasn’t going to work. Though to be honest, the idea of taking on another super, one this powerful even, on my own intrigued me. Killing him would prove my worth to Jericho a thousand times over!

  I reached out and shook Zed’s hand. “The Desert Diamond for The Negative Man – this sounds like a fair deal to me.”

  The tension left the room and everyone came to smiles. Zed especially seemed happy. “With that diamond, our days as hunted supers will be over. I hear the Mexican Riviera is a beautiful place to go.”

  Their dreams of a pleasant life weren’t my concern. “So, when do we leave for Indian Point?”

  “I’m ready to retire.” For the first time since we met, his face showed that. “If no one opposes, we gear up and hit the road at sunrise.”

  Issue #6 –

  Dust Devil

  The trip from Red Rock to Indian Point was dull. All you could see for miles and miles was sand. Fortunately, the Fatal Five gassed up their van before we left, ensuring we wouldn’t be stuck out here. The thought of being stranded in the desert wasn’t a pleasant one.

  At some point I dozed off from boredom, only to be awoken when the van jerked to the side. “Hey, what’s going on up there?”

  The driver, Zach, was slowing the van down. Zed looked back from the passenger seat, “Just a morning wind gust, nothing to worry about.”

  Pacific Station, this was not. I missed the smell of the ocean and the breeze that came with it. I missed the cooler temperatures and the way my hair laid perfectly. Out here, it was a barren wasteland, one I would not be in a hurry to visit ever again. I closed my eyes and remembered just who I was doing this for – Jericho.

  Not five minutes later the van twisted again. I wasn’t used to this and it was a bit unsettling to my stomach. As much as I wanted to complain, I kept my mouth shut and just tried to ignore it. Then it happened; one last twist but this one felt different. From the front, I heard Zed swearing and commanding the van be pulled over.

  Two of the quintuplets opened the back doors to the van. I asked, Zeke I think, what was happening. “Don’t know.” A real talker.

  I got out with them and saw a dust storm brewing all around us. “Is it normal for it to circle like this?”

  “No.” Zed’s voice was more of a growl at this point. “This is the work of a super.”

  On queue two figures emerged from the western side of the storm. One was wearing a dirty, yellowish jumpsuit with old style steampunk glasses on his face. His partner was a younger female, decked out in a sleeveless hooded shirt, ratty old jeans, and leather gloves. Her eyes were glowing – she was the one controlling the storm.

  “The Fatal Five, plus one…” It was the older man walking towards us. “You’re in my territory now.”

  Zed walked out to meet him. “Sandstorm; you best get out of our way.”

  So this was the vigilante that these brothers feared. I was impressed that Zed didn’t let that fear slip into his demeanor as he stood down the man. But as they faced off, my eyes drifted to the girl who was keeping us all here with this storm. Maybe Sandstorm wasn’t the one they should’ve been afraid of.

  She noticed me observing her. There was a brief stum
ble in her control of the storm, subtle enough where only the two of us noticed. I smiled at her, and then went back to the two men standing in the middle. Sandstorm looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “As much as I’d like to keep up this witty banter with you, you are all wanted fugitives and I’m not in the mood to turn the other cheek.”

  Without warning the sand beneath all of us began to wrap around our legs. Sandstorm had this malicious, evil look to his face. This wasn’t going to be a grab and turn in – he was going to kill us.

  Fortunately, he didn’t know who I was or what my powers were. He didn’t have a cell phone on him, but I did. Pulling out a phone from my bag, I tossed it at him while he was busy focusing on Zed. He realized what was happening at the very last minute, but the phone went off before he could cover his face with a sandy wall. Half the explosion was absorbed into the sand, but enough caught him where he fell to the ground in pain.

  The sand wrapping around our legs fell harmlessly to the ground. I was about to kill Sandstorm myself when a blast of wind knocked us all away. The girl ran towards her partner, the windy dust storm began to surround them, keeping us at bay.

  We made eye contact one last time. Her voice, too low to hear over the wind gusts mouthed the words perfectly. “You will find out why the call me Dust Devil soon enough, bitch.”

  Issue #7 –

  Indian Point

  After the close run in with the two supers, we hightailed it to Indian Point. Once inside the city, the next logical step was to find a base of operations. Knowing Sandstorm and Dust Devil were still out there, it needed to be a place that wasn’t obvious, but also not too remote. We settled on a hotel that was two blocks from the museum where the Desert Diamond was being held, Oasis Gardens.

  It was a plush hotel in the downtown area, a place that one would think criminals would avoid being seen. What I was hoping no one counted on was my level of charm and social standing being able to assist. After a quick trip to a clothing boutique, I slipped into my old lawyer routine to book our rooms.

  The lady at the front desk was prim and proper. If she saw my associates, that would cause some commotion. So, like good lads, they stayed behind in the van while I took control of the situation. “Hello, I’m Miss Adams with the Red Rock Division of Wonder-Tech. I’ll be in town for the next few days with a number of associates from around the southwest. Do you have two rooms that I can reserve?”

  The name dropping of Wonder-Tech worked. She smiled politely before offering me what they had. “On such short notice, the only rooms I can provide are the Presidential Suites on the top floor. They are a bit pricey at-”

  I dropped the metallic black credit card on the desktop. “Price isn’t a concern. In fact, the associates will love the fact we’re at the top floor.”

  She grabbed the card before I had the sense to change my mind. Knowing it would still work as this was linked to Jericho’s private account, the transaction went through without a hitch. She gave me four key cards and referred me to the back elevator to avoid getting stuck in the lobby.

  By the time I returned outside, the brothers were getting antsy. “Come – we have access to the back elevators and the top two presidential suites. No one will know we’re here.”

  To say our accommodations were nice would be an understatement. With a fully stocked minibar, along with seating areas, office space, and even a small conference center in each room, we were set up perfectly. Zed gathered everyone into the small conference area and laid out the map he had.

  It was of the museum. “Our entry point will be at the loading docks. This is the least secure point in terms of security. Worst case, there may be two or three local LEO’s there.”

  “Is that a job for you or for me?”

  He thumped himself on the chest. “Me and the boys can handle that. What we need you for is Sandstorm and his pretty little girlfriend.” It must’ve pained his ego to admit they weren’t much of a match for the super. “As you know from experience, extreme force can break us apart. His sand attacks would be able to do the trick.”

  I’d still be outnumbered two to one in this scenario. “How long will it take for you to get in and out? Worst case being if I only need to stall them.”

  “Once we enter, the Desert Diamond is being kept in the National History display, in the left wing. Depending on the resistance we encounter, to grab it and go – maybe a half hour.”

  They’d show up, vigilantes like that would always stick their noses in where it didn’t belong. “If we account for the time it will take them to realize something is wrong and arriving on scene, that puts me against them for twenty minutes, give or take.” That seemed plausible. “Don’t fool around inside, get out and assist me, as it will probably be necessary.”

  “With the diamond in hand, our goal is to leave the scene. We’ll extract you and get out of Indian Point for good.”

  Satisfied, “Today was a travel day, so I’d be okay with taking the evening to rest and recover. Tomorrow night seems like the perfect night to stage a heist.”

  Three of the brothers already had beers in their hands. There would be no robbery tonight, even if Zed had wanted it. “Very well. Tomorrow we all become very rich and then see about breaking your boyfriend out of Black Lagoon.”

  Issue #8 –

  The Confession Booth

  **Father Reigart**

  “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

  “Kim, how often are we going to play this game?”

  I waited for the widower to respond. The last time he came to me was the night we ended up walking to the memorial celebrating Liberation Day. That had been a hard night for Kim, and I was worried even more were coming.

  “Father Reigart,” he started off slowly. “Each day that passes is even harder and harder to go on. Over a year has passed and I feel no joy, no love in my heart.” I wish I knew his pain, but I didn’t. “I sold the store to Al Murphy today. I can’t even walk into it, let alone run the day to day business aspects of it.”

  Idle hands were not what this situation called for. “Kim, I do not think that’s what Diana would’ve wanted you to do.”

  Sadly, “I know. I feel like I shamed her memory today when I completed the sale. But it was our dream – and there is no more “our” here.”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  “I don’t know yet, Father.” He stood up. “I have a feeling that when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

  With those ominous words, he walked out.

  ****

  It had been a week since I last saw Kim Krummel at confession. That struck me as odd; there hadn’t been a week where I didn’t at least see him twice. My thoughts of Kim were immediately swept away when I picked up the morning paper:

  Much like everyone else, I was surprised at what I was reading. Jim Reno was a known criminal, but much like the article said, he’d been in hiding for a number of years. Rumor had it that The Dark Lion had a secret vendetta against Reno, but due to The Negative Man and other super powered problems, was never able to fulfill it.

  As I carried the paper with me and I left the small house behind the church, I was nearly run over by a tall, thin man, no older than twenty-five, who looked to be in a panic. “I was told I’d be able to find you here.”

  “Slow down, my son. First thing, tell me who you are and how can I assist you today.”

  He was breathing heavy, but calmed himself enough to speak. “The name’s Al. I bought the comic shop from Kim a few days ago. He’s always talking about you and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

  “Did something happen to him?” My mind began to race with all sorts of terrible possibilities.

  Then Al pointed to the newspaper in my hand. “Father, I think Kim’s the one who killed Jim Reno. And I think I have proof about it.”

  I grabbed this Al and immediately went back into the house. Sitting him down, “You must tell me everything you know…”


  Issue #9 –

  A Casual Stroll

  I couldn’t sit around, just waiting for the job to begin. The Fatal Five were fast asleep; according to Zed, the bond that connected all five of them took its toll. Still, it was only ten at night and my mind was restless. The front desk agent waved at me as I left. He was cute and all, but he wasn’t Jericho.

  The nights were cool in Indian Point; a brisk breeze was whipping through the streets. Store signs were out, as most places closed around eight. There were bars and restaurants still open and I found a small one that seemed like it would provide the right combination of mood and quiet. The place was called The Red Dog. Walking inside, there was a country-rock song playing and a scruffy looking guy tending bar. His name tag read Victor.

  I sat down at the far end of the bar and Victor approached. “What’ll it be, miss?”

  “Well, Victor,” I jostled his name tag, hoping my charm might get me a free beer or two, “I’ll take a Drunken Cactus draft.”

  He tipped his dusty old cowboy hat at me and poured the drink. He didn’t seem one for conversation and moved on to the next one. That didn’t mean I was drinking alone. Right as Victor left, a man planted himself on the bar stool beside me. There was something oddly familiar about him.

  Even before he spoke, it hit me – this was Sandstorm. I went to reach into my purse and grab a phone, but his arm caught mine. “No violence, not tonight.”

  I could blow up half the bar and not blink an eye, but it’d just ruin the plan. I removed my hand from his and grabbed my beer. “Tricky business coming here and confronting me.”

  He raised a finger at the bartender, signaling for a beer. “I know who you are Detonate,” he whispered. “Girlfriend to The Negative Man, you’re a long way from Pacific Station.”