Authors: Ben Bequer
“The fire breather is Spitfire,” Influx said. “Cool Hand; go after him first, he’s the most dangerous, and their weakest.”
“He’s my bitch.”
“After that, try to get to Bad Karma or she’ll keep them healed up.”
The heroes spread out, with Captain Miraculous at the point. He got into a perfect hero stance.
“The really thin guy with the white and blue spandex in the back is Plasma,” Influx started. “He’s yours Dr. Zundergrub. Mr. Haha, you’re on Silverspar, I’ve got the Captain and his bitch wife. Blackjack, the rest are yours.”
“No pressure,” I joked.
“Aim right this time,” she smiled.
“Gentlemen and lady, we are Rising Force, protectors of the West Coast,” Captain Miraculous said, pointing at us. “Surrender now and there’ll be no trouble.”
“Nice speech, asshole,” Cool Hand replied. “I’ll leave if you let me fuck your wife.”
And with that we were off.
* * *
I wouldn’t compare it to a Wild West showdown, because Cool Hand Luke wouldn’t shut up, ruining any tension. But gradually we did spread and face each other off.
This was my first super group vs. super group fight, and only my second time fighting a super (the first time I ended up in jail), so I was aware of my apprehension. Influx was unfazed by the supers that faced us. She had seen it before and she knew that one on one none of our enemies could stop her. It was comforting to know she was beside me, but my confidence faded when I recalled that Mr. Haha 2000 and Dr. Zundergrub were on our side. But for Influx, I probably would’ve abandoned that bunch right there.
Atmosphero was staring at me, inching apart from his team to come at me first. He had a confident grin on his face and when he caught my attention, he shook his head, as if to say, “too bad for you.”
In fact, I noticed a few of the supers aiming for me, along with Atmosphero. Spitfire and Pulsewave also were making me their first target. Three on me wouldn’t give me time to do much. Atmo would rush in, go vortex form and pound me to a pulp. Pulsewave was also a melee fighter, with the ability to channel force into his fists. Spitfire would sit back, let me get in trouble, then finish me when Atmosphero would give him the ok. I wouldn’t last five seconds, unless I did something drastic, something unexpected.
* * *
“This is your last warning,” Captain Miraculous said. “Surrender now! I give you five seconds.”
He was faced off versus Influx, with Black Karma in her dark cloaked costume standing behind him. To Influx’s left, Dr. Zundergrub was in front of Plasma. On Influx’s other side, Mr. Haha stood proudly before the powered-armor superhero Silverspar, his sword still sheathed. Cool Hand Luke paced between the rabbit robot and I, tossing out insults.
“Time to man up and punch some shit,” Cool Hand said loud enough for our enemies to hear him.
“Who do you have?” I asked, wondering if he was going to take any pressure off me.
“All of them,” he said, waving his bat at all the superheroes. “I got enough love to share.”
“Captain Miraculous,” Influx said, “we intend to board our craft and leave this site. And if you stand in our way, we will defend ourselves.”
Silverspar stepped forward, the heavy armor pounding on the helipad, servos whirring loud. “Enough,” he spat through the mechanical filter in his armored helm and fired a force bolt from his eyebeam at Mr. Haha.
“Rising Force,” the Captain said, leading the charge forward. “To action!”
* * *
Mr. Haha drew his sword in a split second, deflected Silverspar’s energy bolt and charged forward at the armored man. Cool Hand disappeared into a blur and Dr. Zundergrub unleashed his yellow imp, which grew in a split-second into a thirty foot tall monster. Influx charged Captain Miraculous, her left hand spitting a thousand rapid-fire missiles that he easily blocked; with her right hand she raised her deadly sword for a high attack.
I had not time to spectate, though, as I was instantly on the defensive.
Atmosphero went into vortex mode, becoming a small, localized tornado, and charged me. Pulsewave followed close behind, his fists charged with energy. Spitfire provided them cover with fusillade flame bolts that exploded all around me.
But I was ready. I flexed my left foot, extending my toes outwards violently, engaging two gas canisters from a compartment in my boot which surrounded me with a large cloud of obscuring smoke. I dug into my shoulder harness and dropped a gadget on the floor, as the flame missiles exploded around me. Without waiting for Spitfire to correct his aim, I hurled myself off the building, grabbing the end tips of my cape using it as a glider. I fell ten stories before I caught a good thermal and started rising back up over the roof of the tower, like a falcon soaring for prey.
Behind me, as Atmosphero and Pulsewave reached where I had been standing, my gadget engaged. It deployed into a photo-realistic 3-d holo decoy of me that acted exactly like they would expect me to, running and desperately trying to fire arrows.
The pyrotechnics from Spitfire’s burst and smoke from my grenades concealed me long enough to rise up in the air, circling back above the supers, Spitfire spotted me again and opened fire, but Cool Hand Luke ran past him, clanging his aluminum baseball bat off the heroes’ head before moving on, again a blur. I was expecting a flame bolt to obliterate me mid-flight, but instead Spitfire fell unconscious from the brutal blow and I was suddenly clear. Using the tips of my cape as a rudder, I glided around the helipad and looked for another target.
* * *
Mr. Haha was engaged with Silverspar, dodging the armored superhero’s powerful blows, and chipping away with his katana against the strong metal armor. The rabbit-man was fast, I had to give him that, and his skilled blows rocked the man in armor, but Silverspar seemed to be fighting not for a victory, but for a stand-off, until his partners defeated me, Dr. Zundergrub and Cool Hand. Then they could dismantle Influx and Mr. Haha with combined force.
Nearby, Influx let her power rip, full-bore into Captain Miraculous and it was impressive to watch the fireworks. The yellow-white phosphorescence rippled from her form, illuminating the night and reminding all of us why she was our leader, but the captain took the brunt of the blast and moved steadily towards her. Behind him, Bad Karma channeled her supple healing force into Miraculous, shielding him from Influx’s wrath, and once the Captain reached Influx, he and Bad Karma would try to overpower her.
Cool Hand rushed Bad Karma, but she was ready, and he bounced off an invisible protective barrier, disoriented for a moment. She turned on him and waved her arms about, summoning an aura of magic that would put him down for good. I released the tips of my cape, dug into my arrow bag and fired a noise arrow in her direction as I fell down to the helipad. My missile bounced off her shield, but the payload engaged and exploded in a localized 300 decibel microburst. She clutched at her ears and screamed, falling to her knees. Without Karma’s healing force, Miraculous fared poorly beneath the might of Influx power and started retreating from her onslaught.
I came crashing down hard on the deck and tried to do a fancy tuck and roll but ended up slamming my back on the ground as I clumsily came to my feet.
I looked towards Zundergrub, who was manipulating the monstrous yellow demon with his hands like a puppeteer, utilizing the beast with precision against Plasma. For his part, the superhero had engaged his strange powers and transformed into a huge amoeba the size of a school bus. Its pseudo pods did battle with Zundergrub’s imp. The demon went berserk, tearing into the amoeba and ripping pieces of the beast all over the helipad, but it wasn’t doing any serious damage to Plasma. In fact, he had grown so large that it was trying to absorb Zundergrub’s flailing yellow demon within its bulbous form.
The decoy had done its part, giving me a chance to escape, but Atmosphero exposed the gadget using his wind powers to clear the smoke cloud. He stomped on it, crushing the device and disengaging the holo-projection. I didn’t give him a chance to scan for me, firing a concussion arrow that sent him and Pulsewave reeling.
Atmosphero was fast; I had to give him that. He rolled along the ground and came back up firing a lightning bolt at me that stitched me heat to toe and sent me flying across the rooftop. The electricity crackled over my convulsing body. I could only roll along the ground, away from his lightning powers until the range was too far for him.
I came to my feet, muscles complaining with every move and drew an arrow. Across the deck, Atmosphero’s attention was momentarily diverted by Pulsewave, who was trying to come to his feet, still affected by my concussion arrow. A thin trail of blood came from his nose, and blood also dripped from his ears. Atmo turned back to me, enraged, and summoned a storm of colossal proportions. Lightning hissed around him, and the wind threatened to knock us all off the tower. He smiled, finishing up his conjuration, and spread his arms wide, absorbing the mighty forces he had invoked. Energies he was about to unleash in my direction.
“Time to die, Blackjack,” he said.
I dropped the arrow I had chosen, a concussion shot woefully underpowered for the job and pulled a heavy explosive arrow, firing it at Atmosphero. Instead of unleashing those terrible forces that would have killed me, the world around Atmosphero exploded with the force of a quarter stick of dynamite, sending him flying in the air with tons of plastic, metal and concrete.
For the second time tonight the building shook as if from an earthquake.
The concussion wave was so intense it knocked me off my feet. But beyond the explosion’s haze, farther behind where Atmosphero had stood, I saw Pulsewave fall over the edge of the building.
I didn’t have much time to think about it because Atmosphero gathered himself and rose farther in the air. He raked the area around me with lightning and a strong wind pushed me off my feet, rolling toward the edge of the building. I twitched my right boot, engaging another gadget, and from the bottom of my heel exploded a series of claws that tore into the roof and kept me from falling. I fired a couple of arrows but they couldn’t penetrate the vortex that carried Atmosphero aloft.
He lit me up with more lightning, his face a twisted mask of rage, and I could smell the sizzle of cooked flesh, of burning hair. He landed close to me but continued his lightning assault, as if toying with me.
“Hey asshole,” I yelled, hoping to draw him off me. “Your teammate fell off.”
Atmosphero paused his assault and scanned around the top deck.
“What have you done?” he roared and dove to the ground below; with speed I didn’t think he had. An instant later he was gone from my sight.
“Blackjack,” Influx yelled, drawing my attention back to the fight. “Help Cool!”
I looked back at the field and saw the fight much the same, save for Bad Karma. She was standing over Cool Hand, a spear of energy lanced at Cool’s head, pinning him to the deck. I grabbed my bow and drew a noise arrow to neutralize her, but something hit me from behind and I collapsed to the floor, arrows skittering from my quiver and across the helipad’s surface. It was Spitfire, who had regained consciousness and taken to the air. He landed atop me and punched down at me with a flame powered fist. I had only my bow in my hands, so I used it to block the blow. Spitfire’s shot destroyed my bow, raining down pieces of it, and bits of flame on my face and chest.
“Not ready for the big time, huh?” he spat and powered up, covering his body with raw flame as he stood over me.
I had no other choice, I grabbed his flaming form but it was like trying to grab fire itself, and my hand went right through him. Spitfire laughed and clenched his fists high, undulating his flaming powers, enveloping me in his burning halo.
My clothes and hair singed, and roaring temperatures made me howl in pain. He didn’t care that he was killing me. I’m a bad guy. No one would care.
Spitfire punched me in the chest once, then again, burning my shirt and chest harness, pinning me against the ground. I had to do something fast, or I was going to be the first villain defeated rotisserie-style on national television.
I reached for my shoulder holster for a compression grenade, but he had seen enough of my gadgeteering tricks to know what I was planning. Spitfire reached for the holster and engaged his power, burning it and my shirt, and my armpit, and cackling in joy when I howled in pain as the charge exploded against my chest. He punched me again in the face, and I tried hitting him back but he was pure fire, immaterial except where he wanted to be.
“Burn, baby burn, asshole.”
He released me and stood more upright, his halo power pulsing and washing over me with raw flames that burned my clothes and body. But he gave me some space to try something. Something a bit desperate.
I cocked my feet back, which he noticed but ignored. He was probably thinking I was going to try to kick him off me. And why should he worry? He was fire, immune to the force of my physical blows. But I didn’t kick him. I aimed the bottom of my feet in his direction, and engaged the rocket boots.
They sputtered at first, doing nothing, then sparked and came to life, with more force than even I had expected. The boots sprayed fire and smoke at Spitfire, making him laugh even though it forced him a few feet off me.
“You’re joking, right?”