The Death and Life of Superman (16 page)

“What’ll it be, fella—burial or cremation? Your pick!”

The Creature seemed at first startled by the appearance of a glowing, flying man. But his surprise was short-lived. Despite Gardner’s ring-generated force field, the Creature grabbed hold of the cocky former Green Lantern and threw him headfirst to the ground. A huge boot came down hard on Guy’s head, again and again. And then, with his one free hand, the Creature picked Guy up by the head and shook him like an old rug.

“Let go of him, you . . . monster!” Fire streaked across the sky, awash in emerald flame.
Guy may be a jerk, but he’s
our
jerk.
She directed her flame in a searing stream at the Creature. He dropped Guy and stood there for a moment, flames crackling all around him, staring silently at the blazing woman. And then he simply turned and walked away.

Fire pursued him, pouring on the heat until the Creature’s bonds began to smoke and smolder. “I don’t believe it! No matter how much flame I throw at this goon, it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least!”

“I will deal with him, Fire!” Bloodwynd dropped from the sky directly into the Creature’s path. Calling upon all the eldritch power at his command, the sorcerous warrior channeled that energy into one single devastating punch. The Creature hardly appeared to feel it. He barely paused as he returned the blow tenfold, punching Bloodwynd and sending him through the side of a massive oil storage tank.

The Blue Beetle ran onto the refinery grounds, trying to help the downed Bloodwynd. But before he could reach his injured teammate, a monstrous hand grabbed him from behind. The Creature turned the Beetle around and slammed the Leaguer against the side of a metal tank. So hard was the impact that the Beetle’s goggles shattered and his protective mask peeled away from half his face. Then the Creature tossed the unconscious hero to the side.

“Cut!”

“Cut?” Cat Grant turned to confront her director. “What do you mean, ‘Cut’?!”

“I mean, we’re off the air.” he clutched his headset tightly to his ear as the monitors set up around the auditorium flashed the familiar Galaxy Broadcasting G. “We’re being preempted by network news. There’s something weird going on in the Midwest . . . some sort of trouble.”

“Trouble?” Superman was on his feet and across the stage in an instant.

The director reached for the volume control. “You want me to turn up the sound?”

“If you want. I can hear it fine as is.”

“Turn it up, Mickey.” Cat joined them by the central monitor. “If I’m being preempted, I want to know by what!”

“. . . reports at this hour of intense fighting between members of the Justice League and what authorities are calling a monster at an oil refinery near Canton, Ohio.” The voice of a WGBS news announcer suddenly boomed out across the chamber. “Initial indications are that the League has been unable to halt the destructive rampage of the as-yet-unidentified creature.”

“I have to go, Ms. Grant.” Superman became a blur.

“Superman—?” Cat ran after him, but by the time she reached the exit door, he was already several miles away.

The Blue Beetle landed hard and did not move. Ice and Booster Gold were the first to reach him.

“My God, Ice, is he breathing?”

“I think so. But he’s so still . . .”

“Do everything you can for him. I’m going after that thing!”

Booster streaked after the Creature, catching up to him at the perimeter of the burning refinery. “No more games, Ugly. Not after what you did to my buddy!” Thumbing the microcontrols on his battle suit, Booster peppered the Creature with high-intensity energy blasts from his gauntlets.

The Creature gave out an angry snort and charged at the hero full tilt. Booster just barely had time to divert power to his force field before the thing struck. With a blow that cracked like thunder, the Creature sent Booster flying out of control.

The sound of the wind sluicing off his force field was almost deafening as Booster arced several miles into the sky.
Never been hit like that before.
The thought came to him slowly. Even with the cushioning effect of his protective field, Booster was seeing stars.
That thing smacked me so hard . . . flight circuits are overpowered. Don’t know if I can stop.

“Drop your field, Booster! I’ll catch you.”

“What—?” Booster’s eyes went wide, but he recognized the voice almost immediately and did as he was told. A mighty hand reached out, firmly grabbing hold of him.

“Superman? Where’d you come from?”

“I heard that the League was having some trouble.”

“ ‘Trouble’ isn’t the word for it!” Booster took a deep breath and shook his head. “It’s more like Doomsday has arrived!”

Mitch Andersen sailed down the sidewalks of his neighborhood atop his skateboard, a warm breeze blowing through his hair.
This sure beats hanging out with the dweebs in the cafeteria, getting ptomaine from the City Chicken or whatever today’s Mystery Meat was.
Mitch hated school. He especially hated it on such a bright and sunny day. In the back of his mind, he weighed his chances for cutting his afternoon classes without getting caught. His stomach rumbled.
Better grab some lunch first.

Mitch jumped the curb and kicked his way down the street to the two-story tract house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The “War Zone,” he called it. He hated that house almost as much as he did school, but until he was ready to move out on his own, he was stuck there . . . with a mother and baby sister who were slowly driving him nuts. He already knew what his mother would say when he walked in the door: “Mitch, dear, is that you? How’s your day been?” That’s what she always said. He’d heard the same thing—day after day, week after week, month after month. It was like some corny, sickeningly sweet mantra. That was his mother all right. That’s what people were always telling him. “Your mother is so nice . . . so sweet and sincere.”
Yeah, as if being sincere could excuse anyone for being
that
sweet!
Mitch skidded to a halt and kicked the skateboard up into his hands. He sometimes wondered if his father had left them because he just couldn’t take the sweetness anymore.

Mitch opened the back door, his skateboard under one arm.

“Mitch, dear, is that you?”

Why doesn’t she just record it and save her voice? It’s not like anyone would ever notice.
“No, it’s Axl Rose.”

Mitch’s baby sister, Becky, was in her high chair, getting fed something that looked even more disgusting than usual. Mitch surveyed the kid and his mother. He could never understand why his mom had wanted to have another baby at her age. Had she thought it would hold the family together? Mitch shrugged to himself. “We got anything worth eating around here?”

“Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How was school this morning?”

Mitch almost blinked. His mother had actually said something different for a change! He answered with a snort.

“How did you do on your algebra test?”

“Like you care.” Mitch stuck his head in the refrigerator. “Hey! What happened to all the soda?!”

“Mitch! Of course I care.” She paused, a spoon of strained squash in hand. “Say, wasn’t today the day that Superman was going to address high school students on TV? It must have been a thrill to see that!”

“No way. The superweasel was called away on some case and he bailed out early. Probably had to yank a cat from a tree.” Mitch shoved the refrigerator door shut and leaned back against it in disgust. “Why do we always run out of soda around here? Why can’t you ever buy enough to last?”

“Look, I’m sorry, but your sister isn’t feeling well. I haven’t had time to go shopping—”

“I am really tired of that baby being the only one who rates around here! I mean, Dad always has soda waiting for me at his apartment!”

“I’m sorry, Mitchell, but I cannot keep up with everything here. This house isn’t perfect and neither am I. We just have to do the best we can!”

“Jeez, if this is the best you can do, it’s no wonder Dad left. No wonder he wants a divorce.”

Claire Andersen opened her mouth to speak, but not a word came out. She turned away from her only son, tears welling up in her eyes.

What is the matter with her? Why doesn’t she say something? Why does she just sit there and take it?
Mitch could feel his stomach knotting up.
Why doesn’t she yell and scream? Other mothers would. Why is mine such a wimp?
“I’m goin’ over to Aaron’s.” He turned and headed for the door. He tried to sound cool, but his voice had all of a sudden gotten husky. “See you later.”

Becky made a gurgling noise and reached out to her mother. Claire brushed away her tears and was attempting to smile for her daughter when an odd cracking noise came from somewhere outside.

“Mitch, wait! Did you hear that—?”

Suddenly Ice came crashing through their big kitchen window.

As Ice tumbled across the room, Claire instinctively threw herself in front of Becky, shielding the baby from the shower of flying glass. She pulled Becky from the high chair and turned to her son, who stood frozen in the doorway. “Mitchell, call 911! Hurry!” Then something beyond the shattered window caught her eye, and she froze as well.

The Creature came striding straight toward their house. Only the family car stood in his way. With one sweep of his hand, he batted it aside.

“Our car!” Still unable to move, Claire clutched the baby to her.

Mitch was moving, but slowly, as if he were caught in some movie filmed in slow motion. Behind the looming Creature, he could see a row of uprooted trees and, far beyond, a darkening cloud of smoke.
Whoa! That dude did all this—with one hand tied behind his back?!

Less than ten feet from the house, the Creature stopped and looked up. Something was approaching . . . something up in the sky.

Booster Gold and Superman landed directly in the Creature’s path. “That’s the guy, Superman. He’s the one who took the Justice League apart at the seams.”

Superman quickly sized the Creature up.
Seven feet tall if he’s an inch.
With his X-ray vision, Superman looked beneath the heavy shroud.
No, not a robot . . . but dense, very dense . . . and ugly.
“What was it you called him, Booster? Doomsday?”

The newly named Doomsday saw a challenge in the caped man who stood so boldly in his path. He cocked back his free arm and delivered a powerful blow to Superman’s midsection.

Superman did not budge, but he felt the blow.
If I hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t tensed my abdominals, that could have hurt.

Booster flinched. “Superman . . . are you all right?”

Superman looked back at Booster, and in that moment, Doomsday struck again, wheeling around and this time kicking him in the midsection. Caught off guard, Superman went flying backward through one side of the Andersen house and out the other. The entire house sagged to one side as he crashed into an old oak in the side yard. The Man of Steel sprawled back across the toppled tree, stars swimming before his eyes.

Booster made a grab for Doomsday, but the creature evaded his lunge and slammed him into a large sycamore. As the tree cracked and fell, Booster’s force field flickered out.

The Andersens were just starting to pick themselves up from the rubble of what had been their kitchen when Doomsday bashed his way in. Mitch froze in slack-jawed disbelief, not that this monster was ripping apart their house, but that his mother—
his mother!—
was standing her ground.

“Why?” Claire’s voice shook with indignation. “Why are you doing this to our house? What do you want from us?”

Doomsday’s only answer was a muffled snort. His attention was drawn to Ice, who lay semiconscious amid the remains of a kitchen counter. Gleefully, Doomsday pounded her, laughing at the sound of breaking ribs. Behind him, little Becky found her voice and began to wail. Doomsday turned, fist raised. Claire’s eyes went wide with fear.

“No! Not my baby! Please, not my baby!”

Doomsday raised his arm to strike, but suddenly Superman was there. With a punishing combination of blows, he drove the creature away from the Andersens and back out of the swaying house.

“Get your family out of here!” Superman shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll cover your escape as long as I can!”

“You won’t have to do it alone, Supes! The Cavalry is on the scene.”

Superman didn’t need to risk a glance this time.
Booster
—who else would call him “Supes”?—
back on his feet. And from the sound of things, he’s rallied some of the others.

“ ’S’matter, Boy Scout?” Guy Gardner sounded unsteady, his words spit from painfully swollen lips. His eyes were nearly swollen shut. “Is that guy too tough even for you?”

“Guy, that monster might be too tough for all of us!” Fire’s usual confidence was missing.

“No way, babe!” Booster had never sounded more serious. “I say we hit him with everything we got!”

“All our powers in a combined, concerted effort.” Bloodwynd looked to Superman. “Agreed?”

Superman nodded. “Let’s do it!”

Five beams of incredible energy shot out at Doomsday. Fire aimed another searing blast of green flame at the creature. From Superman’s eyes came a tightly focused beam of radiant heat. Likewise, Bloodwynd trained the coherent energy of his eye-beams on Doomsday, even as he helped the half-blinded Guy Gardner aim his power ring’s golden beam. Booster Gold went into a crouch, routing all the energy of his power cells into his gauntlets, adding their blasting power to his teammates’ miniature fire storm.

“Give it everything you’ve got!” yelled Booster, squinting into the glare. “We’ll show this dude what kind of trouble he buys when he takes on the Justice League!”

Mitch’s head swung back and forth as though it were mounted on a spring; he literally didn’t know which way to turn.

“Mitch, get hold of yourself! I need you!”

He looked at his mother with something akin to shock.
Did she really say that?
She’d never said a single, solitary assertive thing for as long as he could remember. “Mom—?” Before he could finish his question, she thrust the baby into his hands and stooped down to grab Ice by the shoulders. “Mom, what’re you doing?”