Supervillainess (Part Two)

by Ford, Lizzy

  Igor’s quiet answer left Kimber with more questions and a flicker of anger. But the worry on his friend’s face trumped his suspicion. “So she hasn’t checked in. Do you know of any other way to reach her?”

  “I know where she is.” Igor’s frown deepened. “General Savage has her in his dungeon.”

  Kimber shifted his weight between his feet. He didn’t want to feel empathy towards the supervillainess, but he couldn’t help picturing what Igor had shared before, about her time in the dungeon being tortured as a child. Her words about her father being a bigger threat returned to him.

  I will not pity her! Even as he thought the words, he was already starting to mentally review his training to see if anything he’d learned would prepare him to break into a dungeon.

  “Okay,” he said. “She told me her father was behind the violence in the city. From what you know of the events in the city, is this true?”

  “She’s the lesser evil,” Igor replied. “I know I’m on the side of superheroes now, Kimber, but she’ll always be the little girl I helped raise.”

  “You raised her to be the good kind of villain,” Kimber murmured, recalling the conversation they’d had when they first met.

  “I did.”

  Kimber’s anger softened at the affection and sorrow in Igor’s eyes. “If you were me, what would you do?” he asked.

  “I’d rescue her and work with her to overthrow her father,” Igor said without hesitation. “He won’t kill her until he knows the location of all her hideouts, money, ninjas and weapons. She’ll break eventually, because he always wins, but she’ll hold out as long as possible.”

  “You’ve thought this through,” Kimber said. “Were you planning on rescuing her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were you planning on asking me to help?”

  “Well …”

  Kimber crossed his arms. “Because I suck as a superhero?” he demanded.

  “Because you are a superhero. You hate her.”

  “I don’t hate her, Igor. We’re on opposite sides of a moral fence, but I’ve never hated Keladry.”

  “You’d help me?” Igor asked cautiously.

  Kimber was quiet, pensive. Why did right and wrong, good and evil, seem so complicated? How could he – the superhero of Sand City – not know what a superhero was supposed to do in this situation? Wasn’t it better to let evil take care of evil? Or was the threat such that working with the lesser evil to eliminate the greater evil was a strategically smarter move?

  Or … was he trying to avoid the fact he wanted to help Keladry and didn’t know how to justify it, given his position?

  “God help me,” Kimber said finally. “I have no idea why I’m saying this, but yes, I’ll help you.”

  Igor’s expression turned to one of disbelief.

  “You know where this dungeon is, don’t you?” Kimber asked.

  “I know every inch of General Savage’s lair. I lived there for thirty years.”

  “Where do we start? Is there a secret way in?”

  Igor began to smile. “I might know one.”

  “Then let’s make a plan before I realize how bad of an idea this is and change my mind,” Kimber advised.

  Igor left the room to grab his iPad and notebook.

  As he waited, Kimber paced and ran a hand through his hair. His instincts told him this was both the right thing to do and a huge mistake. He wanted to justify the decision with the rationale that Keladry had spared him twice.

  But no matter how he looked at the situation, no matter what logic he tried to infuse into his confusion, he came away with one realization that left him stumped. He had never successfully disrupted a small-scale criminal operation. How was he going to break into the headquarters of General Savage, let alone manage to find and rescue Keladry, without fucking up?

  Igor pulled up the layout of General Savage’s lair.

  “It’s almost impenetrable,” he said. “Except for one place.”

  Please don’t say the sewer system, Kimber thought, mind on every superhero movie he’d ever watched where the heroes successfully broke into somewhere they weren’t supposed to be.

  “It’s the sewer system,” Igor continued.

  “Dammit.”

  “Don’t worry. Your uniform is antimicrobial, and the boots are waterproof.”

  “My uniform isn’t my first concern right now, Igor.”

  Igor raised an eyebrow but didn’t otherwise react. Instead, he began to explain the steps Kimber was going to have to take to penetrate the mountain in which General Savage’s lair was located and scale shit-covered tunnels upward into the main fortress. The only good news: the dungeons would be on one of the first levels he encountered.

  Kimber listened to the plan in silence. Igor did have a handle on where everything was, down to the approximate guard count they could expect to encounter. When the plan was explained, Kimber remained quiet for a few more minutes before nodding.

  “This sounds smart. But, I’m a doctor, not an engineer. I want Officer Ford to take a look at this, too.”

  “Of course. I’ll call him now.” Igor stepped into the kitchen to make the call, leaving Kimber alone with the iPad.

  He swiped through the detailed plans, trying to visualize the path he’d take and what kind of equipment he might need to bypass obstacles. He could think of few obstacles he couldn’t handle on his own with pure strength, and he made a mental note to ask Officer Ford and Igor both if they could think of anything he should be prepared for.

  Swipe. Swipe. Swipe.

  “Oops,” he murmured, realizing he’d passed all the fortress’ schematics and interior photographs. He started to swipe back but paused, interest captured by the picture he’d accidentally discovered.

  It was a selfie of Igor and Keladry. Kimber found himself gazing at her smile, surprised to realize he’d rarely seen a genuine smile from her since they’d met. Smirks, absent-minded amusement and other milder forms of smiles had crossed her features. But this was a pure, happy smile, as if she were as thrilled to see Igor as he was to see her.

  The evidence of their strong bond made it easier for Kimber to swallow the idea they talked daily.

  At least, until the surroundings behind them clicked.

  They were in the kitchen. This kitchen.

  Kimber tapped the photo to see the date, which read three days ago. He hadn’t seen her in the house, but he was spending mornings and into midafternoons every day with Officer Ford. He had no way of knowing what Igor did during the eight or so hours he was gone.

  The police know where I live. The villains know where I live. “So much for low profile,” he muttered, recalling what his father had said about never allowing anyone to know where his lair was.

  “He’s on his way,” Igor reported, returning from the kitchen.

  “Great.” Kimber swiped back to the photos of General Savage’s compound. “When do you think we should break in? After a few days of drills to help me navigate this maze?” He motioned to the blueprint of the convoluted sewer tunnels leading throughout the mountain.

  “Tonight.”

  Kimber looked up, startled.

  “You’ve never been in General Savage’s dungeon,” Igor said gravely. “You don’t know what he can do to a person in a day’s time.”

  “Fair enough. Do we have any funds for an earpiece, so you can guide me through the tunnels?”

  “We should.”

  “I have a feeling I shouldn’t ask, but where is this money coming from?” Kimber motioned to the house. “This place couldn’t have been cheap.”

  “I cashed out my retirement fund.”

  Kimber paused, uncertain which part of the statement to address first. “Villains provide their henchmen with retirement funds?” he asked.

  “They do. But they don’t match contributions, because that would be poor villainry.”

  “Yeah. So … you cashed in your retirement to bring us back here,” Kimber studied Igor. �
�That’s a lot to do for a stranger, and the mortal enemy of the woman you raised and love.”

  “I believe in you,” Igor said simply. “I believe in her, too.”

  Warmth bloomed within Kimber as he realized the depths of the tree-sized nanny’s heart. With a few simple words, Igor managed to make him feel guilty for hesitating so long to return here, if for no other reason than because he hated disappointing people he cared about.

  “Does my past bother you?” Kimber asked quietly. “I feel like I owe you an explanation. You’re taking a chance on me, and I’m not sure I’m worth it. I’ve made some shitty choices in my life. I don’t want to let you down.”

  Igor smiled. “You won’t. You’re stronger now than you were. Your father and I talked about that stage of your life a lot.”

  I’m glad you think so. Kimber wasn’t certain how to respond. During moments like these, he began to think he hadn’t been the one to take on the responsibility of watching out for Igor, but that Igor was taking care of him. “However much you spend on my superhero career, I’ll find a way to repay you,” he said.

  “It’s my pleasure.”

  Completely off guard, unable to believe he was beyond hurting those he cared about again, Kimber cleared his throat and focused back on the plans. “Let’s start from the beginning. I want to make sure I’m ready for anything I run into.”

  “As long as you don’t run into General Savage, you will be.”

  Kimber handed Igor the tablet. They sat down on the floor and began to review the schematics again.

  Six: Because that’s what superheroes do

  Buzzing with nervous energy, Kimber held out his arms as Igor checked his climbing harness. Little did he expect his former hobby to come in handy in his new line of work, but he was grateful for the skills when faced with the sheer face of the mountain standing between him and the first accessible entrance into the supervillain’s lair.

  “Remember, you have to be at certain points at pre-determined times to avoid detection,” Officer Ford reminded him.

  Kimber’s mind was already packed with too much to remember, but he nodded anyway. He reviewed the steps following his entrance into the sewer system. Much of it was jumbled, since he’d only had a few hours to prepare. He slid the communication piece into his ear, relieved he wouldn’t be completely alone, fumbling around in the darkness. On his back, he wore a light, waterproof pack with water, an emergency medical kit, flares, flashlight, protective gloves and other essentials in case he needed them.

  “What’re your first three challenges?” Igor prodded.

  “Scale the cliff face, tear open the metal door and swim through a pond of shit in the dark to reach the ladder leading into the tunnel system.”

  “Great!”

  Kimber snorted, not at all looking forward to tunneling through the sewer system. Worse, he had a feeling if Keladry were well enough, she was going to make fun of him for showing up to rescue her smelling like an outhouse.

  “Why am I doing this?” he whispered, craning his head back to look straight up at the hundred-foot cliff wall.

  “Because superheroes rescue people,” Igor replied. “Even bad people.”

  “It’s good practice,” Officer Ford added.

  “Good enough.” Kimber stretched forward and rested his hands on the cliff face. The moon was full, which gave him plenty of light to see the crevices and nooks he could use for hand and foot holds. He was eager to try climbing with super strength to see how much easier it was.

  “Check in at each point,” Officer Ford reminded him.

  “I will.”

  The two stepped away from him, and Kimber stretched upward for handholds. Finding two secure ones, he pulled himself up with ease and stretched for the next ones. Amazed by his own strength, he was halfway up the cliff, walking hand over hand, before he bothered to brace himself with his legs. He decided not to anchor himself, not when he was breezing through this with no threat to his balance.

  “He’s doing good,” Igor said, his voice coming in clear over the earpiece.

  “This is still a mistake. He’s not a police officer or soldier. His discipline is sketchy, and he failed to memorize even half his route,” Officer Ford said, concern in his voice. “If not for the fact he can smash through walls or people who get in his way, I’d never dream of sending him in there.”

  “He has heart and a good head on his shoulders. Just because he’s lacking in operational sense doesn’t mean he won’t succeed,” Igor replied.

  “Guys, I can hear you!” Kimber grunted as he swung himself upwards.

  They fell silent, and he suspected they’d removed their microphones to continue the conversation about how terrible of a superhero he was.

  He wasn’t certain a superhero life was meant for him, either. At least he was making excellent time up the cliff face.

  He reached the top ten minutes faster than they’d anticipated and sat down on the edge to catch his breath. His muscles hummed with readiness from the warm-up scaling a cliff. He took a sip of water then stood and removed his harness. He dropped his climbing equipment onto the ledge as planned, not wanting to burden himself with tools he didn’t need for the rescue.

  Kimber anchored a rope, recalling Officer Ford’s warning about the possibility of needing a quick method of escape. If they were being chased on the way out, he wouldn’t have the time to stop and prep their descent. Once he was satisfied, he stepped away.

  “I’m heading to the door,” he reported.

  According to Igor, the rusted, old door was all that remained of an old maintenance system that had existed before General Savage blew up the road leading up this side of the mountain to minimize the chances of his fortress being broken into.

  Kimber went to the metal door in the side of the mountain. The knob was gone, and the hinges were on the inside. He rested his hands on it and pushed. The metal buckled beneath his super strength. He braced his feet and pushed harder. The door groaned, caved and then exploded inward, sailing into the darkness and landing with a splash.

  The scent of putrid, long standing sewer water drove him to his knees. Kimber gagged and covered his nose and mouth, trying not to throw up. He shrugged out of his backpack and tore it open to grab the mask Igor had suggested he take. Kimber pulled it over his face and sighed with relief.

  “Door’s open,” he reported. He pulled out a glow stick, broke it and hooked it to one of the backpack straps then attached the flashlight to the other strap.

  “Great timing. Keep going,” Igor replied.

  Kimber shrugged his backpack on and went to the doorway. It was too dark to see inside, but he heard the lapping of sewage against the walls and grimaced. He turned on the flashlight and shone it into the shit pool.

  It resembled black sludge that started two feet beneath the doorway and extended for an indeterminable distance into the darkness.

  For a moment, he couldn’t recall why the fuck he’d agreed to this horrible plan.

  Because superheroes help people, even beautiful lunatics like Keladry, he reminded himself.

  Kimber held the map in place, drew a deep breath, and walked through the door. He dropped down into the sludge a few feet before reaching the bottom. The sewer water came up to mid-chest and was cool enough for him to shiver. Grateful it wasn’t as deep as he feared, he angled the flashlight in the direction opposite the open door and began walking slowly through the sludge.

  “In the shit pond,” he whispered. He kept his eyes forward, unwilling to chance throwing up or runing away screaming by witnessing the disgusting contents of the pool.

  “You’re doing great!” Igor said.

  Kimber smiled tightly without answering. He continued walking with occasional glances over his shoulder to ensure the night sky stayed directly behind him. More than once, he felt something nudge by his legs, but he ignored it, not wanting to know what it was. At long last, the flashlight beam hit the far wall, and he quickened his pace, eager to be
out of the raw sewage. None of the water breached his uniform, gloves or his boots, though he planned to throw everything out, no matter what miracles Igor claimed to be able to work to purge the smells. Nothing would make him ever want to wear this suit again after wading through the shit pond.

  He reached the wall opposite the door and paused, gazing up. At the top was a large pipe – his entrance to the tunnel system. The concrete wall had no natural foot or hand holds. After a split second of debate, he balled up his fist and smashed it into the wall to create a handhold.

  Kimber hauled himself up with one arm and stretched upward, smashing through the concrete to create another handfold. In this way, he scaled the thirty-foot wall to the metal pipe above then hauled himself into the mouth of the pipe a yard wide. It appeared to be dry, as if this portion of the sewer system was discontinued. He perched in the mouth of the pipe.

  “I’m through the pond and in the pipe,” he reported.

  “Oh, good. So he got rid of the alligators.” Igor breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

  “The what?”

  “He’s joking. Just keep going. You have twenty minutes before you have to be at the next point,” Officer Ford said quickly.

  “Alligators, Igor. Are you really joking?” Kimber complained as he straightened and began to walk, crouched over, through the pipe. “Anything else I need to know that should’ve come up during planning earlier today?”

  “Well, I –”

  “No, there isn’t,” Officer Ford interjected bluntly. “There’s nothing you can’t handle. Just stay focused on your next objective.”

  Kimber rolled his eyes. He always thought he ran a tight ship with staff in the ER, but Officer Ford put him to shame.

  Soon, however, he lost track of anything outside the pipe. The flashlight lit up the area in front of him, and he traced his fingers along the sides of the pipe as he alternated between a crouched walk and proceeding on all fours to give his thighs a break.

  He reached the grate separating the old pipe from the active sewer system and forced the bars apart with sheer strength before crawling through. Kimber leapt down into a room where multiple pipes emptied out into a river of quickly flowing sewage at the center. The river was lined on either side by cement, and he located the pipe Igor claimed he needed to take.