Authors: Ben Bequer
I kept the pressure of the rocket boots on him until I started to get the desired effect. So much flame and smoke removed all the oxygen from the immediate air, and after a few seconds, Spitfire started to flame out. I disengaged the boots and rolled towards him, grabbing his leg. I twisted the knee and pushed it outwards, hearing the popping of bone. As he screamed, his flame power grew again, burning me through my armor. But I lifted him over my head and hurled him into Plasma. The amoeba fizzled and roared in pain from the burning hero that now lay atop him.
Dr. Zundergrub turned his attention towards Captain Miraculous and Bad Karma, and unleashed his horde of tiny black minions. The captain was almost back to Influx so she stopped her blast and turned her left arm into a huge plasma shield, trading blows with the powerful superhero.
“You’re on fire,” Zundergrub told me, rushing past. “Did you know?”
Indeed my cape was on fire and the rest of my upper torso smoldered. I ripped it off and looked down at the arrows scattered all over the floor and grabbed a few. Even without the bow, the warheads on the arrows were still useful. I threw some at Black Karma, and she turned her attention to me. Her eyes flared, surrounded by a whitish anima banner, and I felt an overwhelming force press me down. It was like a massive invisible hand pushing me down on the deck. I fell to my knees, flattened by the pressure, and the arrows I carried slipped through my fingers.
But leaving Cool Hand alone was a bigger mistake than dropping me with my near-useless thrown arrows. Cool stood, reared his bat, and pinged it rapid-fire off the back of her head. She collapsed, but he continued, spattering her blood all over his face and chest and drawing the attention of Captain Miraculous, who rushed towards them.
“Stop,” he roared.
Cool held the bloody bat back, ready to pummel her again. “I’ll crack this bitch up,” he said, his face freckled in crimson.
“Please,” Miraculous added. “I beg you.”
“Enough, Cool Hand,” Influx ordered. “So, are we done here?” she said, taunting Rising Force.
The Captain knelt at Black Karma’s side and rolled her over. She was unconscious and spattered in blood, her face a swollen mess covered with matted, bloody hair.
“Yes. We’ll stand down.” He looked at Silverspar, who took a few steps back from Mr. Haha. The robot patted his opponent in the shoulder with his katana.
“You’re pretty good,” Mr. Haha said sheathing his weapon, and motioning to the camera droids that floated around him. “Check my Facebook and MySpace later for the footage.”
“Fuck you, man,” Silverspar spat.
“Ok, pick us up,” Influx shouted into her comlink and almost immediately the whine of the helicopter’s engines tore through the night as our ride home approached. I picked up a few choice arrows and threw them into my damaged quiver, closing the cover.
The helicopter landed, winds whipping through us. Cool and Zundergrub headed towards it. I walked to Influx, and the beaten Captain kneeling beside his injured wife.
“I have a med kit,” I said digging into one of my leg pouches that had survived Spitfire’s flames.
The Captain shook his head. “Just get out of here.”
Influx grabbed my arm and led me to the chopper, as Zundergrub’s yellow imp, now far reduced and only a foot or so tall, hopped on. I stared back at the crumpled woman, her blood spilled all over the helipad and Captain Miraculous’ suit. Beyond, Plasma also lay on the floor; now back in costume form, groaning from the serious burns to his torso. Then in the distance, I saw Atmosphero rise up and land on the helipad. He returned Captain Miraculous’ querying look, with a slow, painful shake of the head. Apparently, he hadn’t reached Pulsewave in time.
“You alright?” Influx asked me, seeing how distraught I was.
I said nothing, staring at Atmosphero as the helicopter flew off, our first mission a huge success.
* * *
The pilot left the aft-sliding side doors to the helicopter open so the wind roared inside, but for a while none of us spoke over the loud engine whine. The chopper rose as if shot out from a cannon, and in only moments we were miles away from the scene.
Cool then broke the ice, screaming as he released temporal control over his wound. Influx knelt over him and used her healing abilities on the injury, stemming the loss of blood, but her powers were limited. He still needed medical attention.
Cool shared small bottles of champagne he had hidden in his backpack. He opened the first and drained a long hard swig.
“Fuck yeah, boys. And girl. That was an old-time, ass-whooping’.” He clicked bottles with all of us and even Dr. Zundergrub drank his champagne with relish.
“I’m going over the footage and it’s all quite exceptional,” Mr. Haha said, drinking the bubbly, which dribbled down his felt rabbit face. “You in particular, Blackjack, are worthy of mention. I think I can speak for all of us, and all of our future online audience, when I say that I had no idea your cape was designed for flight.”
I said nothing to acknowledge Haha’s compliments. My attention was still on the US Tower, now fading into the distance. In fact, I was a wreck, with my cape half-burned, and the backside of my costume charred. The arrow bag was torn, with only a half-dozen arrows remaining, and I had to use a torn bit of cloak to tie it closed. My bow was destroyed, and I could feel many burns on my face and chest.
And I had killed a man.
Haha continued. “You certainly proved your worth, my friend.”
“No shit, man. Saved my ass back there. Thanks for that.” Cool Hand clinked his mini-bottle to mine again but I didn’t drink
I looked over at Influx, who eyed me. “Nice work.”
I stared out of the open door, watching the city below.
“I think I killed Pulsewave,” I said.
She pursed her eyebrows, “What?”
“Pulsewave. The one with the purple suit. I knocked him off the building by accident.”
Influx nodded, “You sure?”
I nodded and observed the city lights below fade as we traveled northwards into the high desert.
“Bad guy with a heart of gold, huh?”
“What?” Cool said, trying to overhear our conversation.
“Blackjack got one,” Influx said, not bothering to hide the pride in her voice.
“Serious?” Cool asked, regarding me if I had hit a home run to win the game.
I nodded.
“Which one?”
“Pulsewave.”
“You for real?” Cool took a long swig of his drink then exploded, “Hot damn, boys. Old Blackjack here popped his cherry on the first try!”
He reached out to clink my mini-bottle, and slapped my shoulder as hard as he could. Zundergrub brought his drink up in salute, and even Haha cocked his head. Influx smiled like a proud mother.
They were all reveling in the victory, and now I had given them even more cause for celebration. We had killed a bonafide spandex-wearing super and that was reason to jubilate.
“I tell you what,” Cool Hand started, “They’ll be pissed as hell now!”
I had a stupid grin on my face and carried myself to my seat on the far end of the bench. Cool Hand gave me a wink, checked by the pain of Haha wrapping his wound. Zundergrub stared, and I don’t know if he was measuring me as an ally, or a potential future threat.
But the smile on my face was a farce, and I was doing everything in my power to keep from vomiting. I felt hot, like the center of the earth itself bubbling over, and my whole body was covered in sweat. I didn’t know if it was because of Spitfire’s attacks on me, or at the thought that I had killed a man.
Influx came over and knelt before me.
“You alright?”
“I just...” I couldn’t finish. My throat felt hoarse, and I hated myself for having Influx see me so weak. I swallowed hard, trying to hold it in, fighting back the gagging feeling that was overwhelming me.
Influx put her hand on my shoulder, “Easy there.”
I shook my head. “I’m ok,” I said but she her face was so close to mine that my lie was clear to her. Influx had a strange, crooked smile on her face, as if she was judging me, deciding what to do with me. The helicopter’s wide open door and the city rushing by was clear behind her, reminding me what would happen if I displeased her or any of my teammates. I couldn’t show weakness, or I’d discover if I could survive a five thousand foot drop.
As if sensing my apprehension, she reached over and held my face, softening her expression. “He got in our way, Blackjack. Okay? And you did what you had to do.”
Influx was still holding my face, hers so close to mine. For the moment, what had happened was forgotten, and I was lost in her gaze. Her face was swathed in near darkness, but for the bit of city light spilling into the helicopter cabin that reflected off her eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said but she stayed close. So close I felt the urge to pull her to me, kiss her, not caring about the others.
Influx smiled, her thumb rubbing the side of my cheek, then settling on my lips. Then she became aware of the others, their voices now slightly hushed as they had noticed our reverie. She withdrew her hand and punched me in the arm.
“You’d better be,” Influx said, looking out the cabin and draining her bottle of champagne. “You’re no good to me if you can’t handle this.”
“We’re almost there,” the pilot yelled from the cabin and the chopper slowed down, banking hard as we approached Dr. Retcon’s building. The same one I had driven to in Pasadena. The same one we had flown from atop the Mount Lee, near the Hollywood sign. The same building was now parked in the middle of the desert, a few miles outside L.A.
As the pilot circled and neared for landing, I also noticed that there was another vehicle on the rooftop, making our landing a bit tight. The pilot still came in hard and fast, and as we approached, the roof lit up to aid in our landing and I could see the other vehicle.
It was a vintage 1950s era, gleaming silver rocket.
Part Two
THE DOWNWARD SPIRAL
Chapter 7
Dr. Walsh met us as we landed on the rooftop, flanked by a group of Retcon’s robots. These machine-men were dressed like EMTs with all kinds of medical gear. They had two stretchers, one for Cool Hand and the other for me, but I could walk, so I followed them as they treated Cool’s injured leg.
I had to hand it to them, the droid “doctors” were capable, finding a vein in his arm on the first try and cutting the pant leg to his crotch area with the skill of an expert tailor. Cool Hand’s leg was a bloody mess, though Influx had partially healed the bullet wound. The blood was in mid seep, Cool’s powers keeping the wound from bleeding out.
“You have to teach me how to do that,” I joked, but he winced in pain as the robots handled him.
After a short elevator ride down we reached a medical bay that would be the envy of the Mayo clinic or even the Starship Enterprise. I’m an engineer and I couldn’t figure out what half of the gear in the room was for. Cool and I were split into two of the five separate bays.
The robots went to work on me, using scissors and laser scalpels to tear off my costume. In places, specifically my back, stomach and legs, the suit had melted and it took extra effort from the robots, using some sort of liquid and scrubbers to rip the scorched material off my skin.
“Does it hurt?” I was surprised to see Influx standing there watching me be disrobed.
I responded with a yelp as one of the robots began ripping the melted pieces of cape from my legs and another went to work on my midsection.
“That’s why I never use spandex,” she said. “Plain old leather for me.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
Influx moved into the med bay, gracefully avoiding the med bots working on me and leaned against the bed opposite from mine.
“You doing better?” she wondered and I wasn’t surprised. Influx was checking on me, probably on Retcon’s behalf. In any case, she had to be sure I was up to the challenge, and killing a hero or two was part of what I was being paid for.
“How do I look?” I said.
“You look like someone parked a 747 on your face,” Influx said.
“But you like it right?”
Influx smiled. “I have to make sure you’re still ‘functional’ you know?” she quipped and saw one of the robots move to my groin area, where Spitfire had melted the holster harness to the skin of my inner thigh.
“I wouldn’t look if I were you,” I said, then howled in pain as the robot ripped it off like a huge Band-Aid.
“Ouch,” she said, but her gaze stayed on my lower body. “Lucky you’re a super or that would’ve been a few layers of skin.”
“Looks like I’m going to live,” I said breathing heavy. I made sure my privates were still in order but the skin was red, blistered.
She nodded, pressing her hands down on the bed in a move that raised her shoulders, accentuating them and thrusting her high, firm breasts in my direction. Influx knew how to use every tool to her advantage.
“You had a partner if I’m not mistaken,” I asked, trying to change the subject. “Death Blossom or something, right?”
She stared into my eyes, intentionally avoiding staring down.