Supervillainess (Part Two)

by Ford, Lizzy

  He was at a crossroads. For the first time in his life, Kimber didn’t know if he had the strength to follow the path he was drawn to – or even if he should.

  The door opened while he stood, lost in his thoughts.

  “Good to see you, Doc,” Igor said, smiling. “You clean again?”

  That’s not exactly how it works, Kimber thought ruefully. “My super strength helped purge the drug from my system. I’ve got some homework to do to make sure I cope mentally, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Good to hear, Doc.” Igor stepped aside, and Kimber entered. “I’m glad you’re home.”

  Kimber nodded and gazed around. The couch had been joined recently by a recliner and an ottoman. They were slowly turning the empty townhouse into a home.

  “Breakfast?” Igor asked and headed to the kitchen without waiting for a response. The large man always went overboard with food, so Kimber didn’t doubt Igor had cooked enough for a small family.

  Kimber joined him, slipping once more into silent pensiveness. Igor seemed too happy at having him back to pry and left the kitchen after serving him a plate loaded with a southwestern flavored scramble over crisp potatoes.

  He returned several minutes later with a brown box in his hands and set it down beside Kimber’s plate.

  Blinking from his thoughts, Kimber peered into it. The sight of a new uniform caused his stomach to flutter in excitement and his chest to tighten in doubt and fear.

  “This is higher density fabric,” Igor said. “It’s what Reader wears. Top of the line.”

  Kimber hesitated then reached in to pull the uniform out. The material was flexible but noticeably thicker than that he had worn.

  “It’s undetectable by infrared and if you end up stranded on an island, you can inflate it to use it like a raft,” Igor continued. “The chest and back plates will stop bullets and the rest of the uniform will deflect knives and needles or darts, so General Savage can’t hit you again.”

  It was with mixed feelings that Kimber traced the subtle, black D woven into the chest plate of the eggplant colored uniform.

  “Unless he aims for your head,” Igor said.

  “Stop while you’re ahead, Igor,” Kimber advised. “This is really nice. At some point, I’m going to need to buy my own uniforms. What kind of jobs do superheroes hold?”

  “Go back to the hospital,” Igor replied. “No one knows who you are except the police and supervillains.”

  “True.” Kimber didn’t feel ready to call his old boss, Tish, quite yet. He had disappeared without formally quitting. He needed to get his head on right first.

  Igor glanced down at his phone. “Officer Ford wants to know if you’re home yet and if you want to train this morning.”

  Kimber set his uniform aside. “Training might do me some good,” he said, while silently acknowledging he owed Officer Ford an apology for the incident the other night. How would the law enforcement officer view him now, after learning about his addiction?

  A flicker of unease drifted through Kimber. He had left Chicago without apologizing, and his failure to do what was right by his friends had haunted him since then. He had the urge to run away again – but also possessed the knowledge this strange city with its bizarre obsession with supervillains felt more like home than anywhere else ever had. He’d grown up all over the world, and he’d only ever been drawn back to one place: Sand City.

  He didn’t feel ready to discuss his problem with people whose opinions mattered. He didn’t want to cause anyone else pain, or experience more guilt and shame, because of the mistakes of his past. In rehab, after his overdose, he’d learned one of the steps to healing was asking for forgiveness and forgiving himself. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to do the latter, but he cared enough about those around him to admit to his problem and hope they were able to accept him for what he was – a flawed, scared superhero trying to do what he thought was right in every situation, even if he didn’t know what that always meant.

  “Thank you, Igor,” he said quietly and looked up at his friend, who was cleaning the kitchen counters.

  “I didn’t know if you liked spicy salsa and took a chance,” Igor said.

  “I meant … well, thank you for breakfast, but also for being my friend and believing in me when I don’t know if I ever can.”

  When Igor faced him, he was grinning. “It’s okay if you can’t. I do. The entire city does. You’ll come around one day.”

  I had no idea a nanny was what was missing from my life. Kimber smiled.

  “I’ll make a good superhero out of you yet,” Igor added cheerfully.

  “If anyone can do it, it’s you,” Kimber agreed. “I bet Kel … Reader misses you.”

  “She always knows where to find me.”

  “About that. Assuming one day I stay in the city and establish a superhero lair, are you going to tell my mortal enemy where it is?”

  “Superheroes don’t have lairs. Sometimes, they have mansions or compounds, but we can’t afford that, so we have a super-townhouse.”

  Who knew superheroes needed real jobs to pay the mortgage? Kimber rolled his eyes and finished eating.

  ***

  An hour later, Kimber arrived at the law enforcement training center across town. He was wired with nervous energy and looking forward to having his brain beaten into submission by Officer Ford’s brutal drills.

  He scrutinized Officer Ford’s face as the lawman left the training center to greet him on the sidewalk.

  “You’ve been on vacation. You ready for this?” Officer Ford asked with a faint smile.

  “Yes.”

  The lawman turned and started towards the gym.

  “Wait,” Kimber said and drew a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize for the other night.”

  “For what?” Officer Ford asked, facing him again.

  “I, uh, became addicted to morphine when I was in Chicago. It’s the reason I left the city and am banned from practicing medicine in Illinois. It started as a means for me to numb my pain after my father’s accident, and it ended up taking over my life and sucking up all my money. I purposely overdosed at one point, because I knew I was hurting those around me, putting my patients in danger because I was mentally compromised and completely losing control in every way, but I couldn’t stop. I just wanted it all to end, just wanted to free my loved ones from suffering because of me.”

  Officer Ford was listening intently, his features unreadable.

  “My addiction was triggered the other night, and I relapsed, albeit briefly. I remembered what it felt like to lose all control,” Kimber continued. The words were hard to admit mentally and even harder to say. “You’re a police officer, and I understand you have a duty to imprison junkies like me. If this means you don’t want me here, I’ll understand.”

  Officer Ford’s intense look turned amused, and he smiled faintly. “Doc, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. So you fucked up. Who hasn’t done something stupid?”

  “It’s worse than a single bad decision. I almost died and did ruin the lives of people I care about.”

  “And now you’re a superhero protecting the lives of others,” Officer Ford replied. “Shit’s not easy, Doc, especially when something’s important. You’re in Sand City because you’re needed here. I don’t care what it took to get you here. The city needs you to be the person you are. Your addiction happened for a reason. You needed to learn what mattered in life, right?”

  Kimber nodded.

  “And you got a handle on your issue now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then who gives a fuck? Come on.”

  Grateful for the lawman’s calm logic, Kimber followed Officer Ford into the training center and was soon tackling the obstacle course with renewed hope and strength that maybe, he was close to setting things right.

  Whether it was his four days off or Officer Ford had increased the intensity, Kimber didn’t know, except he left the gym several hours later soaked with sweat and sha
ky from the drills. The brutal workouts managed to settle his emotions, and he returned home to shower. Igor was waiting for him downstairs when he finished dressing. He stood next to a stack of DVDs eight feet tall.

  “I found every superhero movie and television series ever made,” Igor said. “For research. These will help you become a better superhero.”

  While doubtful he was going to learn much, it also wasn’t the worst idea Kimber had ever heard. “Sounds good. Where do you want to start?”

  “From the beginning.” Igor held up a DVD featuring a black and white cover of The Phantom. “I’ll make popcorn.”

  Kimber smiled. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt fortunate to have Igor in his life, but he began to realize how much he appreciated his friend.

  Seating himself on the couch, he waited for Igor to return, so they could start their superhero marathon.

  ***

  Later that day, it was with a combination of curiosity and dread that he arrived to the pier at the appointed time to meet Keladry. Kimber walked through the daily drizzle towards the woman in black standing beneath a streetlamp at the end of the empty, quiet pier. His heart was racing long before he reached her, and he debated how to greet her. Romantic thoughts of another night with her were in his head, along with memories of last night that made his fingers twitch with the need to touch her. Were they going to exchange uncertain looks like new lovers often did and awkwardly keep their distance, because of the self-awareness created by love-in-bloom? Make cute small talk as they sneaked looks at one another and tried to gauge what the other was thinking? How long did he wait before hugging her? Kissing her?

  He paused when he reached the ring of light and smiled warmly.

  “Where’s my pie?” Keladry asked, scouring his frame for signs he had it hidden.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t bring it?”

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  She gave a sound of disgust and whirled away. “And you call yourself a superhero!”

  Every. Fucking. Time. All romantic notions vanished when he recalled whom he was dealing with. Kimber rolled his eyes.

  Keladry retrieved two pairs of boxing gloves from a gym bag. She tossed him a pair and slid the other on her hands.

  “This is what we’re doing?” Kimber asked uneasily.

  “Igor says you need to learn control.”

  “So provoking me to fight is supposed to do that?”

  She winked and slapped her gloves together.

  “This is a bad idea,” he said, stomach sinking. “I’ve thrown men across rooms with one punch.”

  “You won’t hurt me.”

  “I know you can heal, but if I hit you hard enough, I could do some real damage.”

  “I didn’t say you can’t hurt me. I said you won’t,” she said firmly. “You didn’t hurt me last night.”

  “I had a good reason to be as gentle as I could. But if I’m supposed to hit you, it’s a different story,” he retorted.

  “Then let me motivate you. If you wanna fuck me again, you’ll control your strength.”

  Kimber stared at her, stunned. It was, without a doubt, the best motivation he’d ever heard.

  “Come on, superhero,” Keladry said with a genuine smile. “Fight me!”

  She swung first and knocked him back two steps.

  Overly cautious, he started out taking more blows than he dared give. Keladry wasn’t pulling her punches or kicks at all, and more than once Kimber found himself on the ground. Climbing to his feet with a bloodied lip after one such attack, he decided it was time to fight back.

  Two punches later, he was fishing Keladry out of the river.

  “You fail tonight,” she called from the dark water and accepted his outstretched hand.

  “Yeah. I figured that out.” Kimber pulled her out of the cold water. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Think my ribs are broken. Nothing I can’t fix.” Gasping in air, she dropped to her knees on the pier. “Reader three, Doctor zero.”

  “Hey, now. I did save you from your father.” He knelt beside her.

  “That was between you and him. Between us, you’re on a steady losing streak,” she replied.

  “Do you kiss losers goodnight or just shoot them and walk away?”

  Keladry straightened. She gazed at him, her dark eyes dropping to his lips. She gripped the material of his shirt and leaned forward, kissing him hungrily. Kimber’s blood lit on fire at her flavor, and he responded with passion.

  She broke away far too soon for his liking and rose, walking down the pier.

  What the fuck am I doing? Kimber had been asking himself this question for weeks now and seemed to only move farther from an answer he understood. Sensing this night was over, he remained in place, sucking in deep breaths to steady his desire while he watched her heart-shaped ass.

  His phone sent out a musical whisper, and he pulled it out of his sweats pocket. Igor had texted once, half an hour earlier.

  “Tell Reader I forgot to send her pie,” Kimber read aloud and then sighed. He’d been too anxious to reach the pier; he hadn’t bothered to check his messages before facing Keladry.

  Igor’s text from a minute ago was of a different nature. Got a tip. Reader’s moving a huge weapons shipment. Sending a cab!

  “This is why she is nothing but bad news in my life,” Kimber said grimly and rose.

  Keladry had disappeared into the night, and he couldn’t help thinking she’d been distracting him again as much as trying to teach him control.

  He jogged down the pier. When he reached the street, he paced. At one point, he’d been frustrated by the fact he had to rely on public transportation – or lifts from Officer Ford – to fight crime, but tonight, he tossed his head back and laughed at the cloudy sky. His emotions had been through too much lately for him to do anything else.

  Fifteen minutes later, when he arrived home, he saw Officer Ford’s car parked out front and all the lights in the house on. Kimber took the stairs two at a time and opened the front door, striding into the townhouse.

  “Go change. Quick!” Igor urged and held out the box he’d left on the kitchen table.

  Kimber did so, returning downstairs in his new suit ten minutes later. “So what do we have?” he asked.

  “She’s moving this shipment from the docks to a central location for easier distribution among her henchmen,” Officer Ford explained, motioning to the city map on Igor’s iPad. “She’ll probably use this side route rather than risk being spotted or stopped on the main roads. My suggestion is to stop her here with a roadblock of some kind.”

  Kimber listened. “Then neutralize bad guys and drive the weapons to the police station,” he said.

  “Exactly.”

  His nerves hadn’t yet recovered from his scare a few days ago. He dwelt on Keladry’s surprisingly insightful words from the rehab center. She was right. Either he learned to overcome his fears, or he became part of the reason Sand City had a supervillain problem. There was a chance Keladry stooped to her father’s level and shot him up with morphine to trigger a meltdown.

  But there was also a chance for him to help the city tonight by ridding the streets of a semi-truck filled with guns.

  “Okay,” he said quietly. His palms were clammy, his heart flipping over in his chest. “Let’s do this.”

  ***

  Half an hour passed. Kimber stood in the middle of the quiet intersection on a street running parallel to the main roads. Forming a blockade sounded easy, until he realized he needed the materials to establish one. His gaze lingered on the vehicles parked alongside the curbs on either side of him. In this neighborhood, with cars the shape these were in, he suspected most of the residents wouldn’t be able to afford insurance or to replace their vehicles, even if they had the minimum liability insurance required by law.

  He couldn’t deprive underprivileged people of their cars. He was a superhero; these were the kinds of people he was supposed to help
.

  This left him with nothing else to block the street.

  “How’s the blockade going?” Igor asked via his earpiece.

  “Um, not so good,” Kimber admitted.

  “Truck inbound,” Officer Ford reported.

  “I got this, so don’t worry,” Kimber replied.

  No one responded, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t in a position to handle doubt at the moment.

  Within two minutes, the running lights of the truck came into view. Kimber remained where he was in the middle of the road. He’d come to the conclusion he was the best blockade he’d find on short notice, and he even had an idea of how to stop the delivery. He’d soon find out if his idea were insane or worthy.

  It’s not like I can out-crazy this place, he reminded himself. He planted his fists on his hips and did his best superhero impression. The driver slowed as he approached and leaned out of the side of the truck.

  “Get off the road, you clown!” he shouted.

  “I’m here to stop you from further destroying this city,” Kimber replied. “You can leave the truck now, or I’ll take it and you to the police station.”

  “If you move, you’ll live,” called the driver. “If you refuse, you’ll die.” He motioned to the person in the passenger seat, who leapt out of the cab. The man was armed with assault rifles, grenades and knives.

  Kimber folded his arms across his chest. “Game on,” he said to himself.

  The man with the guns shot first. Kimber bolted forward, towards the driver side, and past the cab. He leapt onto the back of the cab and began to rip the hydraulics and power connections running between the cab and trailer.

  Two bullets in the chest knocked him onto his back, and he landed with a grunt. Shaking it off, Kimber climbed to his feet. The truck was revving up to take off, and he hadn’t finished disconnecting the trailer.

  The passenger with the guns fired again through the opening between cab and trailer. Kimber ducked to his left, out of the shooter’s sight, and snatched the driver’s door. He tore it off and flung it.