Villains Don't Do Time! (Night Terror Book 6)

by Mia Archer

  "Night Terror," Firebrand said. "Fancy meeting you in here."

  "Whatever old lady," I said.

  I would've liked to shoulder past her, but unfortunately her current superheated state meant it was impossible for me to shoulder past without catching fire myself. I was pretty sure I didn't have any sort of flame resistant prison jumpsuit.

  "You're the worst of them all," Firebrand said.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "But the aliens opened portals right over the city. I don't know what you expected me to do against an invasion like that. It’s a heck of a lot easier to beat those things back out at the heliopause where I can break out the big guns without worrying about leveling…”

  "That's not what I'm talking about," she said, rudely cutting me off before I could talk about some of the bitching big guns I’d developed to fight aliens in deep space that I didn’t dare use in earth’s atmosphere for fear of setting that atmosphere on fire or something equally bad. "I expected you to fail at beating back an alien invasion."

  I flinched. I didn't like being reminded of my failure. And it’d been one hell of a whopping failure. I still felt like this was all my fault. That I should’ve done more to try and stop the invasion.

  I could’ve fought them off. I could’ve tried harder to reach Fialux. I could’ve fought harder against the mind control that had taken over her mind, or the mind control that obviously had me forgetting Sabine.

  "No, you're the worst kind of thing this city has ever seen," Firebrand said with a roll of her head. "An antihero. You want to be all big and bad and dangerous, but you also want to be able to save the day. You and your kind disgust me."

  Huh. Antihero. No one had ever called me that before, but now that she mentioned it that did sort of describe what I’d been doing lately.

  14

  Food Fight

  Firebrand spit, but the spit came out as a little lick of flame. The kind of flame you’d see dancing on the tip of a candle. It landed on my jumpsuit and I had to balance my tray on one hand as I patted down my shoulder with the other in an attempt to keep from catching fire.

  "Do you mind?" I asked. "I'd rather not catch fire today, thank you very much."

  The woman glared at me, flames licking around her and giving off waves of heat. It was enough to make me want to punch her in the nose and see if that would be enough to cause the flames to go out like they had when she hit the floor.

  Only I wasn’t interested in getting third degree burns on my knuckles for the sake of a punch. Even if it was a punch she obviously deserved.

  "You're not worth it,” she said finally. “Couldn't even stop an alien invasion or escape a prison that’s a revolving door for villainous scum like you. Yeah, I've seen you moping around in your cell. Everyone gets out of SuperMax, everyone knows it's a revolving door, and you don't even try!"

  "Hey!" the rock guy said. "You don't talk to Night Terror like that!"

  I looked over in surprise. I wasn't expecting a vote of support from any of the other villains in here, but others were looking at Firebrand with irritation as well. Though I wasn't sure if that was because they were irritated at her for targeting me in particular, or if they didn't like the idea of a hero coming into their dining hall and messing things up.

  "What are you going to do about it?" Firebrand asked.

  "I'm going to kick your ass," rock guy said.

  "I'd like to see you try!" she shouted.

  "Bring it old woman," he said, holding his arms out to his side and making it clear he was ready to throw down.

  Bring it she did. Though the moment she brought it I figured rock guy probably wished he hadn't asked her to. She shot a fireball across the room that slammed into him. He slid through a couple of tables knocking them aside. Villains scrambled to either grab their food before it was knocked to the floor or dive out of the way. Rock guy slammed into the wall on the other side of the dining hall and shook his head, but it didn’t look like that move had taken him out of the fight.

  Firebrand looked back at me. "Got something to say Night Terror?" she asked, her voice dripping with scorn. “Or are you going to keep letting others do your fighting for you?”

  I looked at the rock guy who'd been defending my honor. Back to Firebrand who was flaming in a way that precluded any physical fighting on my part. At least I couldn’t fight her without winding up with third degree burns on most of my body. Not a fight I wanted to pick without my suit or access to a medbay. I didn’t trust the doctors in this place after they tossed me in a cell with a potential concussion and told my unconscious form to sleep it off.

  I looked down at my food. The only feeling I had other than numbness was a vague gnawing hunger. I figured it was time to eat. Not time to start a fight I couldn’t win.

  "No," I whispered. "You do your thing and leave me alone. I don’t want any part of any of this.”

  Firebrand shook her head.

  "You're pathetic. Take away your toys and what are you?"

  It was a good question. Take away my toys and what was I? Just a mortal like everyone else. I was pathetic. Useless. And I wasn't stupid enough to get my mortal ass involved in a fight between a lady who could turn herself into living flames and a guy who appeared to be living rock.

  Firebrand flew through the air and slammed into him just as he was getting up, and prisoners gathered around. I guess in SuperMax a prison fight was one thing that went down exactly how it was depicted in prison movies.

  I put my head down again. Quietly made my way over to a nice quiet corner of the commissary. At least as nice and quiet as a corner could get when there were a bunch of heroes and villains rumbling on the other side.

  If anything it was simply more evidence to add to my learned opinion that heroes ruined everything. After all, all these nice villains had been having a nice lunch before Firebrand came in and started being, well, a firebrand. She'd ruined everything.

  Not to mention she'd pointed out, as if I needed any reminder, just how useless I was.

  I pushed around the food on my plate, it look appetizing enough, but the problem was I no longer had much in the way of an appetite. No, if anything I felt like I was on the verge of puking up anything I'd already eaten today.

  I sighed. Pushed the plate away. Looked up at the fight just in time to see a bunch of prison guards run in.

  Once again it looked like they were using designs that’d been stolen from yours truly. Which boiled my blood, but it's not like I could do anything about it. Not unless I managed to get my hands on one of their knockoff toys.

  Oh the things I could do if I had access to a piece of tech that was copied from something I’d designed. Knowing Dr. Lana she probably didn’t even bother to change any of the software when she stole it. She’d never shown any indication of being the kind of coding genius who could make software for the evil hardware she was stealing considering she couldn’t even make the hardware for the stuff she was stealing.

  I needed to get my hands on some of those toys. The problem was I hadn't been in a situation where I was within melee distance of any of the guards. They were always on the other side of the bars, or at a safe distance looking down on the prisoners while they moved around in the common room.

  That’d been what they were doing back when Firebrand started her last escape attempt that was masking a beat up the villains crusade. It’d been fun watching the looks on their faces when they realized she was a flying hero and they'd put her in a wing that was apparently designed for firmly terrestrial heroes and villains.

  I guess they hadn’t brushed up on their ancient heroic history in Starlight City. Not that the ‘70s and ‘80s were all that ancient, but it was apparently long enough ago that they hadn’t bothered checking.

  Though the guards had finally come in to bust some heads even in that riot. Here in the commissary the guards were getting up close and personal trying to break up the fight. There was something to that I might be able to use, assuming I could work up the energy
to try and escape which had been a problem for me recently.

  Most of villains were hanging back, even the ones who'd gathered around to watch the fight. No, it was mostly the “heroes” who were piling on and acting like they wanted a good excuse to rumble.

  I couldn’t blame them. I imagined they were working through some of the same frustrations I was dealing with. It sucked thinking you’d never be thrown in the clink only to discover that society had suddenly changed to the point that a long jail stay was in your future.

  I understood the frustration, but I still thought they were assholes for taking that frustration out on innocent villains who were minding their own business trying to have a peaceful meal.

  I also had to give props to the guards. There was a super powered melee going down, but they were still wading in there without a concern. Wading in there and getting close to heroes and villains alike.

  It was the kind of situation someone could take advantage of. The kind of situation where someone a little sneaky who was good at sleight of hand could maybe grab something off of a guard’s belt. The guards sent to break up fights always carried a cornucopia of toys that’d been stolen by Dr. Lana and then repurposed and sold to these bastards.

  They needed those toys to survived in a super powered melee.

  And yet I couldn't bring myself to care about stealing anything from the guards. Not when I knew I’d probably fail like I'd failed to stop Fialux and Sabine and their invading army of blue bastards. It seemed like failure came to everything I touched lately. It was almost enough to make me want to go into a fight on the guards’ side since the inevitable universal middle finger that had been flipped at me lately would inevitably make whatever side I chose the losing side.

  Not to mention there was the slight issue of people in that fight having powers. I didn’t have powers. I had a reasonable imitation of powers that I’d created using my suit, but without my suit I was mortal enough that I didn’t like my odds in that free for all.

  I sighed. Forced myself to eat. It was a mechanical exercise, though. I didn’t take any more pleasure from eating than I did watching Firebrand getting hit by a lucky right hook from that rock dude that caused her flames to go out for a moment. Then she was smoldering and flaming again.

  I ate and ignored the show. I needed to keep my strength up, but there was no pleasure in it.

  There was no pleasure in anything. What was the point?

  15

  Escape Attempt

  I moved my hand along the locking mechanism more out of a need for something to do that wasn’t watching SCNN’s parade of horrors. It’s not like I thought an escape attempt would really go anywhere.

  Of course it wasn't an old-fashioned lock with a key. No, this was a modern prison facility in every sense, and so there wasn't anything as outdated as keys and locks that could be picked.

  Still, feeling the mechanism gave me a feel for how it was put together. You could tell a lot by how large something was. What kind of electronics were they using? Was it held together by magnets? Was there something else that was keeping me locked in my prison cell?

  SuperMax was an old facility, which meant they could be using vacuum tubes in there for all I knew. Not very likely, but that’d be nice. If that were the case all I’d have to do is slam my head against the thing a few times to knock the tubes loose and I’d probably be able to break free.

  The problem was whatever magnificent bastard designed these locks had done a very good job of hiding all the stuff I could potentially tinker with.

  I guess that made sense. It was the kind of precaution they’d want to take in a facility that housed a bunch of superpowered individuals. Super geniuses among those superpowers. Still, it was something to pass the time. A puzzle that was frustrating me to no end.

  "Damn it," I growled.

  "Having some trouble?" my neighbor asked.

  I shot a glance to her in the darkness. Though it was more twilight than actual darkness. They kept the common room at low light at this hour, with the television still playing for any gluttons for punishment who wanted to watch the horrors being visited on the city via the ghouls at the Starlight City News Network.

  I'd learned to tune that out for the most part in the week since that fight in the commissary. Unless we were talking breaking news about some new fresh horror being visited on the city.

  No, if you wanted darkness then you had to go to the back of the cell where the shadows meant you could get some sleep if you were sensitive to light. I suppose I could also go to the adjacent cell and let that shadow creature have its fun, but while I was down I wasn’t out. Not yet. I wasn’t quite ready to take the permanent escape.

  "I'm fine, thank you very much," I said.

  "Really?" she asked. "Because you don't look like you're fine. You look like you're having some trouble there."

  I yanked my hand back inside and turned to her, exasperated.

  "What business is it of yours if I'm having any trouble?" I asked.

  She shrugged. Smiled that weird half unhinged smile. A smile that always made me nervous. Like she knew something I didn’t or something. I didn’t like people knowing something I didn’t.

  "Suit yourself," she said.

  "I will suit myself," I said. "I'm Night Terror. I don't need help escaping from a prison. Especially a prison that every other fucking villain in the city seems to have no trouble getting out of.”

  That was a sore spot for me. The joke was the place was a revolving door, but so far the security seemed pretty on point. Which was just another brick in the “Night Terror isn’t as good as she thought she was” wall building up in my brain.

  "Says you," she replied.

  I barely resisted the urge to let out one heck of a frustrated growl. Frustrated growls would only let her know she was getting to me. If I let her know she was getting to me then I'd never hear the end of it. Her insistence on talking to me despite me making it clear I was far from interested was already annoying enough.

  So I very deliberately kept quiet as I went back to feeling the contours of the locking mechanism. I knew it was only a matter of…

  Well I wasn't sure what it was a matter of. I could’ve easily hacked something like this if I had my suit. It’d be a matter of nanoseconds, faster than my brain could consciously recognize, to have CORVAC dig into whatever computerized mechanism was keeping me in this cell.

  But that was the problem, wasn't it? I'd come to be too reliant on tech toys. I'd come to be way too reliant on CORVAC. The difficulty I'd had while he was MIA and I was forced to save the city without his help was proof enough of that.

  Night Terror and Night Terror’s toys had always gone hand in hand. My superior intellect and ability to make things that allowed me to overcome the people with regular superpowers had always been my ace in the hole.

  The lights came on. I slipped my hand away from the locking mechanism and quietly moved to the back of my cell. I was pretty sure they were monitoring everything that happened in this area, and it wouldn't surprise me if my messing with my lock was the reason those lights came on.

  It made sense that they’d be pissed off that I was feeling up the locks. Particularly since everyone running this facility had to know my claim to fame was messing around with technology.

  Only no guards showed up at my cell acting pissed off that I’d dare to cop a feel on the locking mechanism. No, there was more commotion to the left of my cell. Which meant there were more arrivals, only I had no idea how they were going to fit them in here.

  I could see most all of the cells from my spot. The room was a huge cylinder with cells running all the way up, which meant I could see everything but the cells immediately adjacent to me. Even then I could sort of get an idea of what was going on in there considering I could see through the bars on either side. The place was very quickly developing a heck of an overcrowding problem.

  The warden appeared first. My eyes narrowed. I hated that man. He was all smile
s and obsequious bowing and scraping. Which was way worse than anything he'd done when Fialux was in here. That had me on guard.

  The reason for that obsequious bowing and scraping quickly became obvious as Sabine appeared right behind him. She had her hands behind her back and walked along with a smile on her face. As though she didn't have a care in the world. Though she did turn to me and grin as she passed my cell.

  That was more acknowledgment than I got from Fialux. It pissed me off and made my blood boil. This woman could acknowledge that I was in here, but Fialux couldn't? Presumably it’d been some time since me and this woman had been an item.

  And yet she seemed to care more.

  She turned back to the warden. When she spoke she clearly wasn't happy.

  "I don't see what the problem is," she said.

  "As you can see Sabine…” he started, but was cut off.

  "Don't call me that," she said. "You will address me properly or you will be replaced, are we clear?"

  Well then. Talk about your contrasts between this lady and Fialux. I guess whatever mind control she was using to keep Fialux under control wasn't enough to turn Fialux into a complete bitch.

  "Of course, your excellency," the warden said, giving another little nervous bow as he looked around at the full cells.

  "That's more like it," Sabine said. "Now tell me again why we have a problem?"

  Her voice was quietly dangerous. As though she was of the opinion that they didn’t have much of a problem at all. As though she wanted to make it clear to the warden that if he had a problem then she had a problem, but not the kind of problem that had anything to do with overcrowding.

  "Well as you can see," he said. "We are out of space in our cells. There's nowhere else to put the increasing number of heroes and villains you’re bringing us. Fialux said there would be a solution, but so far nothing has materialized.”