New Tales From Old Yarn

by Barbara Becc

  The news came earlier while she drew out floor plans for a new exhibit: hated supervillain The Vitalizer had entered the city. Dolores knew why: he wanted the Bull, a weapon only known to Dr. Awesome and its other builders. He nearly destroyed two other cities over the weekend for whatever the weapon was, and while Dolores didn’t think it was in Cooley, she couldn’t let him waltz in and trash the place to find out. He’s just as crazy and has the same exact powers as last time, Dolores thought as she crept closer to downtown. Be smart about your powers, because he’ll be waiting for you to slip up. The real problem is whether you can keep it together and not act like a damn loser again. Every single time with you—it’s a good thing he isn’t quite in a killing mood.

  As she moved closer to his location, she took deep breaths. Dolores had a little...problem about this whole affair. She casted her gaze to her dashboard, the streets, the people, but the sunny city gave her no relief. The Vitalizer wasn’t far.

  Dolores took the nearest turn and headed down a tiny street devoid of life. She parked behind a hardware store; only screams further into the city met her ears. Regular clothes off, she dug her mask out of the trunk and headed off.

  Dr. Awesome has that helicopter, she complained as she froze time in seven-second gaps, quickening her run. Bloodwoman gets the tricked-out muscle car. I get to run, and I’m not even that great a runner. People’s screams blurred into formless howls in between the seven seconds of slowdown and charge-up. Their panic lost all its energy. All Dolores knew was that she’d be exhausted by the time she reached her opponent.

  Before long, past restaurants and insurance centers, she could spot The Vitalizer floating high up, ripping up sidewalks or something below. She tried not to stare at him—the thought of him spotting her pumped jitters into her legs.

  She slowed down time twice more while she hid behind an acrid dumpster and wiped away the sweat on her chin. The city needed her ASAP.

  Once she regained some of her breath, Dolores peeked out into the four-way intersection over which The Vitalizer hovered. Citizens scrambled behind cars and into storefronts as he watched cement and asphalt tear itself apart before flying everywhere. If only one of the other heroes could swing by...This is going to be ridiculous...

  With him in midair, Dolores pulled out the Kick-Gun Dr. Awesome had given her. It was weak enough to not kill its target, but still packed a decent...kick. She slowed down time again and sprinted into the street.

  There he drifted, arms crossed, staring down at his disarray. Dolores had him right in line with the muzzle of her gun. The Vitalizer’s slo-mo laughter echoed all around the trees and cars flinging themselves back and forth. That was his power, after all: anything inanimate (plus the occasional plant) close enough came to “life” at his command, acting upon his discretion. The Vitalizer left little but chaos in his wake every time he attacked something, and Cooley suffered the same. He was the bane of every superhero in a 350-mile radius. He stopped at nothing in the wake of his greed. He

  was

  the

  most gorgeous creature Dolores had ever seen! That black longcoat! That evil-smiled metallic mask! That laugh! That charm! Just the sight of him made her knees weak. She lost control little by little every time they’d met for battle, no matter where they met or when. Even now it took her half the seven seconds to fire.

  The effect of the little projectiles wouldn’t take real form until the slowdown ended; when it did, The Vitalizer lurched back from the force and fell halfway to the ground. Dolores kept the Kick-Gun pointed his way, even when he finally gave her the attention she so feared and desired. “So we meet again, Clockpunk,” he called to her in that rich, perfect voice. “Took you a while to get here.”

  She felt her cheeks light up. “Uh, y-your destruction comes to an end here, Vitalizer! The Bull isn’t here, so search elsewhere before I have to kick your ass!”

  Ohhhhh, no. Look at the way the sunbeams fall behind him. Damn, he’s pretty. “You get less and less composed every time,” the Vitalizer remarked, aware of her discomfort—though probably not aware of where it sourced. “Traffic got you unsettled today? It’s a shame those ‘associates’ of yours are barely more competent. Oh, well. The answer’s no!” He whipped his hand to the left; five cars rushed towards her.

  Dolores slowed things down and then tapped into her other gift, future sight. Focusing on her enemy still suspended in the air, she caught a vision of him about to tear up the street just a bit in front of him. That is, where she’d run after dodging the cars. She only had seven seconds for these sights, as well, so she ran backwards and fired at him again.

  Just one of the shots hit him, somewhere in the upper arm. The ground nonetheless tore up beyond her, cracks and chunks of asphalt appearing where they weren’t seconds earlier. He’d misjudged, but The Vitalizer rebounded with a storm of the same asphalt flying her way. Dolores slowed down time and removed herself from the assault; out of harm’s way, she fired as many times as the Kick-Gun allowed. The step-by-step process of these battles didn’t escape her, and she thought, This is how it is. Each sequence is seconds long: seven slow, seven normal, and repeat. Different day, same routine. At least it elongates the time I get to f—

  “Come now, Clockpunk!” the Vitalizer called as the slowdown came to an end. Cars behind her roared to life. “Are we going to spend the whole afternoon playing games? Tell me where the Bull is!”

  “It’s not here!” she replied as she took to the sidewalk, running ahead of the vehicles charging after her. “Let’s be reasonable, shall we, Vitalizer? Continue your search where the thing might actually be. Leave Cooley at peace.”

  He started laughing again. Despite being one of those villainous, ridiculous, boisterous things that nobody took seriously, it sent lightning through Dolores’s limbs. She wanted to put it on repeat as much as she wanted to shove her fist into his ribcage. “Sweet, stupid Clockpunk,” the Vitalizer cooed, “why the hell should I believe you? You hero types will say anything to get rid of me.” Trees along the path uprooted themselves. A falling streetlight missed Dolores by inches. “I’ll ascertain where the Bull is for myself, thank you.”

  Ugh. She saw into the future and caught them both having not moved much. I need to get him out of the air, or at least lead him from the main streets. How many pellets do I have left? Dolores slowed everything down to check the Kick-Gun’s magazine. Not much.

  She spared a glance across the street and noticed how close The Vitalizer hovered to a ten-story hotel. Glass walls decorated each floor, so if she could get to a high-enough floor in good time...“What’s ticking along in that head of yours?” the Vitalizer shouted from above a set of six palm trees. Another seven seconds gone. “Thinking of ways to stall?”

  “Nope.” Dolores bolted back the way she came, headed for the flock of mindless vehicles, and cut across the pavement. He has to know I’m running low. Dr. Awesome seriously has to give me more to work with, lest this...this ne’er-do-well pound me into the concrete.

  Hm. Not the best choice of words.

  The Vitalizer started to say something, but Dolores didn’t hear it as she booked into the hotel's front doors. He had to know what she might plan from this, so she had to act fast. Into the nearest elevator she sprinted, past gold-tile floors and plush pink sofas that’d be trash if the supervillain caught her.

  She guessed his approximate height in the air and jammed her fingers on the Floor Four button. Then she leaned against the dark wood panels of the chamber as the doors closed, soft electro-pop playing overhead. “Well, this is horrible,” she muttered as she shook her legs. Sweat collected underneath her protective suit, and while there wasn’t any blood lost, Dolores wanted to drop on the elevator floor for a good three hours. Why can’t I have super strength, or fly, or breathe acid, or something more active? It’s all a roulette, and it sucks. I’m beat, but The Vitalizer’s been in the same place since I got here.

  No more time to complain, though. An LED numbe
r display pinged when “4” showed up. I hope I’m not far from the wall.

  When the doors split open, Dolores mustered all her strength into running at the glass across the hallway. Blue carpet and beige walls faded past her eyes, her vision myopic—the man in black outside, the bright blue and gray surrounding him, were all that mattered.

  She put her arms up as the glass came close. The world decelerated around her. Head down, but focus on point, she crashed through a cloud of glittering shards.

  Unfortunately for her, shards had nothing on The Vitalizer. When she pulled out her fist, thinking herself secure in her superpower, time ran out. A palm tree to her side struck her like a baseball into the ground.

  Thunderous force smothered half her body in pain, the other half scraping against concrete that left cuts on her suit and skin. Dolores let out a cry—she hadn’t been hit this hard in, well, ever. “So predictable,” the Vitalizer said, now inches above the street. Blinking light circled the fighting pair, Dolores too overwhelmed to notice the cars themselves. “Your kind always is. One last time, Clockpunk: where’s the Bull?”

  She couldn’t answer, save for with tears and sharp breaths. Her back felt like it might shatter, even with the suit’s protection. “Considering that I’ve given you a good beating,” the Vitalizer remarked, “take a moment to answer. You aren’t getting any safer.”

  Dolores cracked an eye open. Even as The Vitalizer stood over her, having put her in this spot, few spots looked sweeter in Cooley...

  A blast of blue-white fire plumed behind them both. Beyond the smoke, the blades of a helicopter hummed. The Vitalizer sighed. “Well, there are your buddies. I’m not interested in a four-way, so until later, Clockpunk—that Bull still needs finding!” He took to gliding down the street, out of Dolores’s weak sight. Getting up to thank the other superheroes for intervening was out of the question.

  Staying awake, as she discovered in the next minute, also proved too strenuous.

  ~~~

  Next thing she knew, Dolores stared up at a dark wall. A computer on a shelf hummed nearby, its screen light revealing a table populated by three other bodies. Wherever the door was, she couldn’t make it out.

  Bloodwoman, Dr. Awesome, and Purple Quetzal stood staring at a remote on the table. The rest of the room, metal walls enclosing dusty floors, lay empty. Superheroes to the rescue, Dolores thought while she regained her senses. How long have I been out? I should really carry a watch, being “Clockpunk” and all...

  “¿Está despierta usted?” Purple Quetzal asked without looking her way.

  “I told you I didn’t speak any Spanish,” Bloodwoman said instead.

  “S...Sí,” Dolores, the actual intended, said. She breathed in, ready to be reamed out for her failure by the others.

  When she tried to sit up, fresh pain attacking her torso, Dr. Awesome walked around and pressed her back down. She realized she lay in a stretcher, but she didn’t care where it came from or why they had it here. “You’re pretty banged up, Clockpunk,” he said. “I don’t want to say your back is bruised to hell, but...it’s bruised to hell. Fortunately the rest of you seems all right. No major breaks or anything. I’m guessing the painkillers haven’t kicked in?”

  “Not really, sir,” Dolores snuck out of her mouth.

  “I half-expected The Vitalizer to go for the kill,” he continued. “Bloodwoman, Purple Quetzal, and I couldn’t have been defeated so easily, you understand, but it’s good that you made it out alive. Not that The Vitalizer’s gone to killing lengths, of course.”

  “He might for...for the Bull.”

  Dr. Awesome and Purple Quetzal nodded. Bloodwoman said, “Then we’re in some shit. The Bull is here.”

  “What?” Dolores’s eyes popped open. “Since when?”

  “It hasn’t been long, but it’s been on a bit of tour lately in order to keep it safe. It’s a matter of circumstance that our cow coincided with a jackass.”

  “Can’t we smuggle it out? Like, before the Vitalizer gets to it?”

  “Kind of hard to do when he’s scrawling all over the city for clues. If we try moving it, who knows what’ll get destroyed if things go awry.”

  Dolores slowly raised her hands to her cheeks. Well, this got waaaay worse. My city’s getting ripped to shreds, and here I am with a bad back. “See for yourself,” Purple Quetzal said, interrupting her thoughts. “The computer screen.”

  Dolores turned her head to the monitor. With its light so glaring, she took a moment to focus. Dr. Awesome turned the volume up in the meantime. “...the current situation being of The Vitalizer trashing MacGuinness Park in search of what Dr. Awesome referred to as ‘The Bull,’” a blonde-haired news anchor stated behind her desk. In the corner of the screen, a blue-orange sunset curled over a park trail; downed branches lay scattered everywhere in view. “Authorities believe Clockpunk, or perhaps other superheroes, are on the way; at the rate the madman is uprooting trees and dismantling park fixtures, though, they need to be here yesterday.”

  The camera zoomed in on The Vitalizer sending two benches across a patch of grass to smash a small information booth. Someone recorded the vent from their phone several yards away, so The Vitalizer sent the benches at the kid next. Dolores felt sick watching it.

  Then the criminal turned slowly towards the news camera. Hoodied and smiling as ever from the mask, he shamed Dolores into biting her lip without ever knowing his influence. “It’s well-known how to identify The Vitalizer by his getup,” the reporter said, “but if anyone has tips as to his alter ego, please alert authorities immediately by the number on-screen.” 552-1838 on a black strip. Above the strip, people screamed for salvation.

  Dolores turned away from the computer. Dr. Awesome turned the volume down and said, “We’re thinking of some other diversion to get the Bull out of here, Clockpunk. The Vitalizer’s looking in the wrong spot...for now.”

  “Clockpunk could make a great diversion,” Purple Quetzal said. “Send her back out.”

  “The Vitalizer will make quick work of her in this state,” Bloodwoman replied. “Have those painkillers even started to work, kiddo?”

  “I guess.” Dolores stared back up at the wall. “You said no major damage, Dr. Awesome?”

  “That’s right.”

  She nodded as the other three discussed some possible options. All she knew was this: she said she’d protect Cooley, yet here she reclined with no idea where she was and Cooley under serious attack. In the three months since she took up the mantle of Clockpunk, Dolores realized she hadn’t done any real saving. She didn’t have any special gifts well-suited for this kind of work; she survived off the help of the people standing around her. Help’s all fine and well, she thought, but what happens when they can’t come? Are we doomed?

  On the second level of the shelf rested the gears usually attached to her back. Silver with black edges, the accessories were a gift from Bloodwoman to tie the suit theme together. She and the men didn’t need themes or anything. Dr. Awesome had been a Navy physician and could conjure up the hottest fire; Purple Quetzal’s resplendent armor reflected his light control; Bloodwoman wore red, for when she inflicted control over criminals’ self-control, forced bloodletting was a favorite tactic. Clockpunk needed something more to tie it all together, but so far the look didn’t quite do it.

  So Dolores relaxed against the stretcher to fill the void. A crisis still stormed in the city. “What are we doing right now?” she said, although she didn’t expect an answer.

  “Besides trying to move the Bull?” Purple Quetzal said. “Nothing yet.”

  All right, Dolores said while she folded her hands. Perhaps they’re better left to stew over this. I have no clue what the thing is, and I know Cooley the best out of this group. Bloodwoman suggested a “civilian vehicle,” only for Dr. Awesome to say that the Bull wouldn’t fit. If anyone needs to be up there...it needs to be...this girl!

  She slowed time in a sequence: seven slow, seven normal, for a total of t
hree minutes. Despite not being much, it allowed her extra room for brainstorming. The computer’s constant light alone kept her company through the stiller time, the voices of her compatriots too slow to register in full. Now, we know The Vitalizer’s wrecking everything. We know the Bull needs to go. It’s apparent a distraction would be a decent bet. Me going out to fight him won’t be effective, given the shape I’m in; it appears that my “coworkers” won’t be heading to battle. Hmph.

  During one of the lapses in her power, she watched Dr. Awesome try – and fail – to sell the other two on giving The Vitalizer a fake location. The Vitalizer isn’t an idiot, so no. Frick me, he’s cute. I can only wonder if he meant to put together the image he has instead of just cobbling together whatever worked. Either way, he’s got good stuff going on.

  He mauled me, though. I’m lucky my spine didn’t snap and kill me. I should hate him, hate him, for all this. Maybe I’d feel better giving him a swift kick up the ass...

  Wait. Time resumed as normal. Wait, there’s an idea.

  “Doctor?” Dolores said.

  “Yes, Clockpunk?” he answered.

  “I have something.”

  “What do you have?”

  ~~~

  Cooley stretched ahead like a disappearing act, the surviving streetlights waning as the roads fled into darkness. Not even the crescent moon did much to illuminate Dolores’s way, scattered with chunks of metal and asphalt from one end of the way to the other. Car horns sounded elsewhere; nobody wanted to be here anymore, and she didn’t blame them. She hardly wanted to be back aboveground at all.

  The super team of superhero superbuddies planted a camera on her waist, streaming whatever might happen next to a storage room below a parking garage. They probably saw complete darkness as she jogged along the way. Her bones felt heavy, her muscles dull with ache, but life went on. No rest for the weary, she thought.