by Ford, Lizzy
“So, do you feel ready to try again tonight?” Igor asked.
“Our practice mugging or another real heist?” Kimber glanced up from his plate at the large man in an apron.
“Either.”
Kimber ate in silence, debating what to do. Whenever he thought about his embarrassing performance at the bank, he was torn between waiting until he felt ready and the urgency that had been building for him to do something to stem the violence caused by the Savages.
“The best way to learn is to jump right in,” he said finally. “If we get a tip, I want to try again.”
Igor smiled. “I know what will help.” He stood. “I fixed your uniform.”
“Ah, about that,” Kimber hedged. “I think I’ll stick to workout clothing.”
Igor appeared crestfallen. “I stayed up all night making this.”
Never able to hurt anyone else’s feelings, Kimber sighed. “Okay. Let me see.”
“Stay here!” Igor hurried out of the kitchen.
Kimber finished his lunch and took the dishes to the sink, mentally preparing a gentle rejection of whatever monstrosity Igor presented. He was never, ever wearing tights again, a cape, or any article of clothing that was yellow, for that matter.
“Ready?” Igor called from the living area.
“Yep.” Kimber went to the doorway and leaned against its frame, arms across his chest.
Igor unfolded the clothing in his arms. To Kimber’s surprise, the uniform was nothing like what he expected. The eggplant-hued clothing had a matted sheen to it.
“This isn’t bad,” he said and approached. He gripped the shirt. The material appeared to be breathable, durable and flexible without the plastic feel of pure spandex. “This reminds me of one of my dad’s old football uniforms.”
“It has carbon fiber interwoven into it. Supposed to protect against knife penetration,” Igor said proudly.
“How did you afford something like this?” Kimber asked, looking up.
“Your dad bought the material. It got here yesterday, but I didn’t have time to sew you a uniform before last night.”
“You’re an amazing partner,” Kimber said. “Thank you. I think I can wear this.”
“Try it on.”
Kimber accepted the clothing and retreated to his room, where he pulled on the dark purple uniform. Soft and light, it fit like a second skin – without making his skin clammy the moment it touched him, as the yellow outfit had.
“More comfortable than pajamas,” he murmured. He returned downstairs to show Igor. “You did great, Igor.”
Igor smiled. “Can’t forget the mask.”
Kimber held his objection until Igor handed him the much thinner piece of matching fabric. Kimber pulled it over his head. A thick band of stretchy material kept it snugly in place. Like the uniform, it molded into a second skin.
“Can you see and move well?” Igor asked.
Kimber stepped back and made a few quick turns and lunges to try to dislodge the mask as well as to measure the resistance of the uniform.
“This is perfect,” he said, surprised.
“Your father sent boots, too. He said these were his favorite. Traction, padded soles and ankle support.” Igor held up the black boots.
Kimber put them on and tested everything again. The new uniform was the first thing that had gone well in weeks. It left him feeling almost like a real superhero. So much so, he remained in it for the rest of the day.
He spent the afternoon reviewing street maps with Igor in an attempt to familiarize himself more with the city that had adopted him.
Dark fell, and they left the townhome through the back entrance to meet Tanner in the alley.
“Nice!” Igor’s friend exclaimed when he saw Kimber. “Much better.”
Kimber smiled and lifted his head towards the drizzle that had been falling all day. Rain was another good test of his new uniform and the boots. If they survived tonight, then he was pretty certain he could get used to wearing them.
“Alley exercise again tonight?” Tanner asked Igor.
“Unless we get a call,” Igor said.
“I had an idea for a different part of town. You know the five-way intersection that confuses the fuck out of everyone?”
“Ah! With the six streets that merge. There are tons of alleys and side paths.”
“Sounds good,” Kimber said.
The three of them began walking towards an area he had seen on the map of the city. Kimber listened absently as the two men spoke and kept his attention on the surroundings to try and use some of the skills Officer Ford had taught him.
Igor fell silent and took his phone out of his pocket. He gazed at the message and began to smile. “Officer Ford says there’s a heist nearby. More of Keladry’s henchmen.”
Kimber’s heart quickened, along with his step. After his poor showing the night before, he was determined to prove he could help the city, as much to people like Igor as to himself.
“Let’s do this,” he said with far more resolve than he felt.
Tanner altered their course. They kept to the alleys and darkened streets. As they walked, Kimber went over what he’d learned that morning from Officer Ford. He wasn’t convinced he could control his strength, if put in a situation where he had to use it, until he considered how he’d learned to soften his touch when eating or during routine activities around the house. If he were careful and focused, it was possible not to crush a man’s skull with a punch.
He spotted the flurry of activity the same time the two with him did. They all slowed. The henchmen in black were unloading a truck into the back of a store.
“That’s a drug shipment,” Igor said. “I recognize the marks on the boxes.”
Kimber shifted forward to get a better look. The semi-truck trailer was filled with the boxes. “Holy shit,” he murmured. “That’s a lot of drugs.”
“Doc, you probably don’t want to throw a car into that and risk triggering your addiction if the drugs end up all over the place,” Igor advised.
“Agreed. I’ll figure out an alternative.” Kimber left the alley. “Stay here.”
He crept closer to the truck and counted the amount of henchmen present. There were twelve, maybe thirteen. With his limited knowledge of fighting villains, he wasn’t certain causing a firefight or disrupting the unloading would go well for anyone involved. He watched for a moment before realizing the driver had left the cab of the truck to stand on the sidewalk opposite the side of the street Kimber was on.
An idea formed, and he waited until certain no one was looking his direction to act. He darted across the street and reached for the handle to open the cab door.
“Not so fast, Doc.” The unmistakable pressure of a cold muzzle at the back of his skull accompanied the words.
Why the fuck is she here? Kimber doubted Keladry personally supervised every single one of her henchmen’s operations. It seemed too coincidental for her to be at both of the operations he’d interrupted.
Kimber raised his hands. “I told you. I’m going to stop you from hurting others.”
“And I told you – you aren’t going to be a superhero for long if you don’t figure out how to stay alive.” The sound of the hammer going back made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“I’m working on it.”
“Time’s up, Doc.”
Kimber went still. Keladry was dangerous – but would she kill him after all the effort she’d put into getting him back to the city?
“I’m going to count to three. If you’ve got some magic trick up your sleeve, you might want to use it,” she warned. “One.”
Fuck. Kimber drew a deep breath and steadied his pulse, reviewing how he could disarm her without getting shot again.
“Two.”
He ducked and then whirled, snatching her forearm with one hand and twisting it away. Keladry kicked him in the thigh. He grunted but didn’t fall, instead blocking her second kick before yanking her around and pres
sing her into the side of the truck. When she tried to move, he gripped her neck.
She stilled, pinned between his body and the truck. Pain flashed in her gaze.
Warmth drew his eyes to the forearm he was gripping. He’d crushed her arm to the point her bones were protruding from her skin. She was wheezing despite his attempt not to squeeze her neck.
Horrified, Kimber released her, and his eyes dropped to her neck where broken capillaries were shading the underside of her skin with maroon.
“Keladry,” he said and then stopped, uncertain what else to say.
She straightened. The pain in her gaze was soon replaced by hardness. “I’m used to it, remember?” she replied. Eyeing him, she rested her head back against the door of the cab. “Good reaction time, good technique. Next time, don’t stop when you realize you’re crushing someone’s throat.”
“Jesus. You, too?” he muttered. “Everyone has an opinion about what I’m doing.” He started to reach for her again.
She tensed, and Kimber’s hand dropped. Her reaction disturbed him. Abuse victims had difficulty accepting the touch of others, especially if there was no trust involved. He’d just proven he could and would hurt her.
“I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” he said.
“In this game, someone always gets hurt,” she replied.
God she’s beautiful, he thought, catching the flicker of gold in her eyes he had first noticed after she set his apartment building on fire. “Not on my watch.” Kimber studied her, unable to help noticing her perfect shape beneath the snug, black outfit she wore. Acutely aware of hurting her, he still stopped himself from apologizing. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he had the feeling a superhero wasn’t supposed to apologize to a villain. He made a mental note to ask Igor later.
“Nice uniform. Better than the big bird suit.” She started to ease out from between him and the truck.
Kimber blocked her path with his arm. Not trusting himself to touch her again, he shifted his body into her path instead.
“I’m serious, Reader. I’m not going to let you destroy this city.”
“If you want to make a difference, stop my father. He’s the one who will destroy the city rather than lose it,” she replied. “I’m the good guy in this scenario.”
“You blew up two blocks along the riverfront today.”
She rolled her eyes. “Good comparatively speaking. He has no limits on collateral damage.”
“There aren’t levels of evilness. What you’re both doing is wrong.”
“Then stop me,” she challenged, lifting her chin in defiance. “Crush my neck and end this right here.”
Kimber’s jaw clenched.
“That’s the only way you’ll ever stop me from what I’m doing,” she continued. “Nothing you say will convince me to take a different course, Doc. I will be this city’s supervillainess, no matter what it costs, or I’ll die trying. Do I need to shoot Igor in the head for you to understand who and what I am?”
“You’d never do that.”
“A year ago, I never thought I’d murder my brother, either,” she pointed out.
“I’ll never stop trying to convince you to do the right thing. Besides, if you were so badass, you would’ve shot me with your sidearm by now,” he countered, proud he’d learned one lesson from Officer Ford earlier this day – how to identify weapons hidden beneath clothing.
“Or maybe I’m distracting you until the drugs are all unloaded,” she replied with a faint smile. “I don’t need to read your mind to know how to deal with you.”
“You’re fucking with me.”
“Maybe. Or maybe you underestimate this fucking badass.”
Kimber’s brow furrowed. He stepped back and glanced towards the rear of the truck. Unable to see what was going on, he gave Keladry a quick glance to ensure she stayed where she was before trotting away.
Sure enough, the truck was completely unloaded, and no sign of her henchmen or the boxes was in sight.
“Reader two, Doctor zero,” she called from the cab of the truck. “Next time, don’t hesitate to snap my neck, Doc.”
Anger building, Kimber raced to the storefront and ripped off the door.
No sign of drugs or ninjas were inside the darkened store. He started to explore the store when he heard the big rig start up. Racing back into the street, he saw Keladry in the driver’s seat as she drove away. Torn between pursuing her and going after the drugs, he hesitated too long.
At least I can get the drugs off the street, he thought.
“They’re gone,” Igor said from behind him.
Kimber tore his gaze away from the taillights of the truck Keladry drove. “What do you mean?” he faced his companions.
“They were moving the drugs through the store and into another truck on the other side,” Tanner explained. “That truck is gone.”
Kimber cursed. Keladry had been telling the truth about distracting him.
What was it about her that blinded him to everything else going on around him? When he thought of hurting her, he looked down at his hand guiltily. Officer Ford was right. If he didn’t learn how to use his strength, he might kill someone accidentally. As much as he wanted her to stop, he didn’t want the first person he unintentionally killed to be the supervillainess testing the limits of his patience.
“I need to learn to trust my power,” he said, lowering his hand. “I’ll never be able to handle any mess I get into, or save anyone, if I can’t do that.”
“And learn how not to get your ass kicked,” Tanner added.
“And how to stop crime instead of facilitating it,” Igor seconded.
“One thing at a time,” Kimber replied with patience he didn’t feel. His friends were trying to support him at a job he was failing miserable at performing.
“At least you look like a superhero,” Igor said, as if sensing his disappointment.
“True.” Kimber shook his head. “Let’s go home.”
The others trailed him as he walked back the way they’d come. He couldn’t shake the memory of crushing Reader’s arm or the sound of her wheezing as she tried to breathe. A part of him was screaming not to care about a woman who had murdered more people than there were students in his graduating class in college. Yet his fingers twitched at the thought of her soft skin and shapely form, and the guilt of knowing how much she had already suffered churned inside him. He didn’t want to add to her pain, even if they were supposed to be enemies.
Keladry could’ve killed him and hadn’t. He didn’t know what to think of this. She claimed to want to fuck with him, but wouldn’t she be better off with one opponent – her father – instead of two?
Not that I’m a competent opponent, he added silently.
He returned to their townhome and went straight to his room. Kimber carefully removed his uniform and laid it out on the floor. Gazing at it, he made a decision.
“When I won’t embarrass you, I’ll wear you again,” he said. Until then, he was going to train in his sweats and tshirts.
Five: Good and evil are relative
For the next two weeks, Kimber trained for fourteen hours a day. Officer Ford directed the first few hours of his day – alternating between sports and the obstacle course – before passing him over to Igor for city orientation, general villainry education and applying his expanding knowledge and crime-fighting prowess through practical exercises.
The time passed quickly, and Kimber became more confident each time he caught up to Tanner in their nighttime exercises, which was exactly four times. Fortunately, those occurrences had happened every day for the past several days. He was getting smarter streetwise, his agility and self-awareness growing. Officer Ford’s drills on being alert to his surroundings, and on focusing in the moment to ensure he controlled his strength, had begun to pay off.
The quicker Kimber’s senses and responses became, the more self-assured he felt as well.
Seventeen days after his
last confrontation with Reader, Kimber felt ready to try his hand at stopping crime again. He tugged on his shoes, optimistic about his chances of catching Tanner this night, and then jogged down the stairs to the living area.
Igor was seated on the floor, his back against the wall, across from the television. He was frowning fiercely and clenching the remote control hard enough for his knuckles to turn white.
“More trouble?” Kimber asked, pausing to watch as well. He’d gotten used to the daily reports of violence around the city as Keladry and her father fought for supremacy.
Ignoring them was impossible. Kimber had struggled on more than one occasion not to react when he saw the latest death tolls on the news. He wanted to help somehow. But he listened to Officer Ford, who didn’t think he was ready yet, and told himself it was better he took the time to learn how to be a good superhero than to continue bungling his attempts to stop the Savages.
Keladry had spared him for reasons he couldn’t guess. If he ran into General Savage or his henchmen, Kimber doubted his luck would hold.
He’d been praying the violence wouldn’t worsen until he was ready to tackle it. At the look on Igor’s face, Kimber began to think the limit to the time he had to prepare had been reached.
“General Savage,” Igor said shortly. He turned off the television.
“General Savage what?” Kimber prompted.
“Just more violence. General Savage destroyed one of the water treatment centers on the north side yesterday.” Igor stood. “You ready to train?”
Kimber studied him. “You watch that shit every day. Something else is wrong, isn’t it?” he asked.
Igor ducked his gaze. “It’s nothing.”
“Igor, tell me.” Kimber said, troubled. “You’re my friend. If something is wrong, I want to help.”
Igor hesitated. “It shouldn’t matter. You won’t approve.”
“Meaning …”
“That was Reader’s lair. Her father must’ve found it and destroyed it. I haven’t heard from her since then.”
“You’re in regular contact with her.” Kimber sensed he shouldn’t have been surprised by this but was.
“Yeah. We talk daily.”