“Those vile assholes...” He recalled being chained up at the school—the foul smell, the terrible screams. “We should do something before they hurt anyone else.”
“Something?” Surely he didn’t mean kill them. Heroes don’t kill. Heroes also don’t leave people to die. Limping Luke was surely done for. Forget that for now. “Like what?”
Shane looked over at the cannibals. “Like... bust up their jeep. Bust them up a little.”
“Let’s just go before they spot us,” Sally said.
“No. We should do something. They’re just going to hurt anyone they come across. Evil sons of bitches. We can’t just pass by and do nothing.”
Sally considered it. “Bust them up? How bad?”
“Bad enough. Break an arm, a leg.” Shane’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his teeth pressed together. “Make them beg for mercy.”
She really should make them suffer for all they had done to innocent people. She should hurt them to make them less effective at performing evil deeds. Putting her hood up, Sally said, “OK. I’ll make it quick.”
“Take as long as you need. Make them fear for their lives.”
Sally nodded, exited the car, and put her goggles on. Now she was in full costume—ready to defeat some badguys. She pounded her fists together and then prepared to sprint.
Shane watched from the car as his daughter dashed toward the group of villains. So goddamn fast, he thought.
First, Super Sally went for the one with the baseball bat—she disarmed him and then smacked him in the belly with his own weapon. Several ribs cracked. Then Sally tossed the bat toward the man on the roof of the jeep—the bat shattered his nose and he tumbled to the dirt below. The third cannibal was staring like a useless idiot, a dead crow in his hand. Sally lunged at the man, grabbed him by the collar, and flung him into the vehicle. Smash! The other two cannibals could not believe the little girl’s strength.
With little effort, Super Sally pulled a door off the jeep—the men just staring in disbelief. To demonstrate her immense power, Sally threw the door so far into the distance it was no longer visible.
“What the hell are you?” the cannibal with the cracked ribs muttered, intense fear in his eyes.
Instead of answering the question, Sally grabbed the man’s foot and twisted it almost three hundred and sixty degrees. He screamed in agony as his bones snapped. Little Sally was enjoying showing off her powers to this group of vile ass—
Language, Sally.
After moving to the rear of the vehicle, Sally squatted down low put her hands underneath the jeep. In one swift motion, she stood and launched the jeep into the air. It crashed down halfway across the field.
This could not be possible, the group of villains thought.
Sally looked around at the terrified and bewildered men, she was trying to decide what body parts to break next. She snapped some fingers, broke an ankle or two, bent one of their arms the wrong way. Snap. Snap. Crack. It was highly satisfying.
That was enough, she told herself. Leave it there.
Sally had not realised that her father had been walking toward them. She turned as she felt his hand on her shoulder. “Good work,” Shane said. He then approached one of the cannibals lying in agony on the dirt ground. Aiming his pistol at the cannibal’s head, Shane asked, “What’s your name?”
The cannibal held up a quivering hand. “Please, don’t kill me!”
“Name!” Shane roared.
“Bart!” the cannibal whimpered. “My n-name is Bart.”
“Explain to me, Bart, why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head right now!”
Sally did not like the look in her father’s eyes. He was just trying to scare him, right? Yeah, Dad would not kill someone unless he really had to. Or so she hoped.
“I... have a family,” Bart said, tears ran down his gaunt face.
“Pathetic!” Shane bellowed. “The way you fuckers carry on... and now you’re on your ass, begging for mercy, crying about your family.” Shane kicked Bart’s broken foot and the cannibal howled in pain. “Fucking pathetic!”
Yes! They’re pathetic. Not you, not anymore. Big, bad Shane!
“Please,” Bart cried. “Let me s-show you a p-picture.” He reached into his jacket. Shane was ready to pull the trigger if he spotted a weapon. Bart pulled out a picture of a little boy and a young woman, he held out the photo so that Shane could get a clear look. The woman and boy in the picture were hugging, squeezing each other tightly—their eyes full of joy. “This is t-them—my family. Picture’s a little old, but...”
Shane slapped the photo out of Bart’s hand. Bart winced in pain, two fingers on that hand were broken.
“What makes you think I give a shit about your family?”
“They need me. Please, show mercy.”
Surely Dad was not about to pull the trigger. Sally could not be sure, her body tensed.
After a long pause, Shane said, “Beg me!”
“Please,” Bart said, his lips quivering. “I beg you... don’t k-kill me!”
“You’re just a piece of shit!” Shane roared. “Say it! Tell me what you are!”
“I’m just... a piece of shit.” Bart wiped tears from his cheek.
Shane spit on Bart—right in his face. “Disgusting fucking cannibals!”
“I... I only joined these guys... to keep my family safe.”
“You’re full of shit!”
There was a good chance her father would pull that trigger if he did not calm down. Sally had to say something before...
“Dad. We should move on,” Sally said. She wondered if this villain was telling the truth. Did he just join up with a group of monsters so that his family would be safe? “We’ve done enough here.”
With gritted teeth, Shane lowered his gun. He was never going to shoot, he just wanted to feel...
You a big man now, Shane?
Shut the hell up!
You got big balls now, all of a sudden?
I’ll...
What?
Get away from me!
God help that kid of yours... with you protecting her.
Shane dismissed that memory and turned to Sally. “Let’s move on.”
As they made their way back to the car, Sally looked back over her shoulder and wondered if they were leaving the cannibals to die. Heroes don’t kill.
No, she had done what she had to do. If they didn’t make it, it was because of their actions. She had done what she had to do. Anyway, there were probably more gang members close by—they would come along and help their friends (do monsters call each other friends?) back to... wherever the hell they had come from.
Do not think too much about those monsters. Move on.
---
The darkness creeps into your head. It whispers things. It searches every corner of your mind and it finds things you may not have been aware of. Dark things. Dark things that human beings would rather not admit—to themselves or to others.
The darkness augments dark thoughts. You hate your neighbour? Do yourself a favour, kill the son of a bitch! Kill him, stomp on his corpse, take a shit on his lawn. Smile and move on. The darkness nudges you toward chaos.
No empathy or sympathy, only victory. I beat you, you go boohoo, kiss my shoe and then you go on doing whatever it is that you do. I don’t care about your day-to-day, just stay away.
The darkness manipulates you, twists you. It makes the illogical seem logical. We have all been influenced by the darkness, at some stage. Every one of us, no doubt. Some can resist it more than others.
Some don’t want to resit it at all.
CHAPTER 9
Spiral up into the sky with astonishing speed. Pause, inhale deep, touch a cloud with the tips of your little fingers. Calm. Peace. A cool breeze. Up high, away from it all.
But do not stop there. There is no limit for Super Sally. Higher. A cloud was just the beginning—stroke a bright star, the brightest you can find.
Go, now—full
speed!
Through the clouds, higher and higher. Don’t you dare stop until you see—
All those beautiful stars!
Cease, hold your breath. Take it all in. Do not stare too long at the brilliant sun. Why stop here? Might as well go to the edge of the universe and back. No limit.
No... no, no, no!
Why, Sally? Why are you going back? You’re falling! You are being pulled back down into hell! Stop! Resist it! You can’t? Why not? You’re Super Sally, aren’t you? You...
You didn’t get to touch a star. You didn’t get to go that far.
Sally could feel the ground under her feet. She opened her eyes. Back to reality.
The bright sun reflected off the surface of the lake, Sally’s red sheet (cape) was flapping in the cool breeze. As she stared at the water, a thought came to her. Could she drown? A blade, nothing. Bullets, nothing. But what about drowning? If she walked into the water, completely submerged herself, would she drown? Could she go without oxygen? Maybe she could hold her breath and see how long it would take for her to feel the urge to breathe.
She inhaled deeply, held it, and counted in her head. As her face turned a shade of red, Sally exhaled. Just under two minutes. Apparently she could not go very long without air, just like everyone else. Or maybe it was all just psychological. Maybe Sally’s brain was telling her she had to breathe, because breathing was something that she has been doing her whole life. Could it be that her brain just did not realise that oxygen was now completely unnecessary for Sally Rogers?
Another thought came to her. What if she submerged herself in that lake and filled her lungs full of water? Would that kill mighty Sally? Or would it just be mildly uncomfortable? An image of a burning building popped into her head. Could she die of smoke inhalation? Surely a fire would do nothing. But the smoke?
Sally did not want to spend any more time thinking about all this. She looked back over her shoulder—her dad was sitting in the car (door open) on the side of the road, drinking fizzy orange out of a can. This was a beautiful spot, if only Mom was here to enjoy it, too. Sally imagined the three of them—herself, Shane, and her mother—sitting on a blanket, taking food out of picnic baskets. The grass in this area was still bright green, not grey and dying. It was a very nice spot, for sure. She had to quickly dismiss that image because her eyes were filling up with tears.
What about something a little more fun. Instead of thinking about possible ways she could be killed, Sally decided to test how far she could jump. She pulled her goggles down over her eyes and did a twirl. Let’s see just how far I can go!
No run up, just squat down low and jump from there. She squatted down, bringing her chest down to her knees. Go! She sprung up into the air, even higher than she had expected to. There were butterflies in her stomach. Flailing her arms, Sally tried to stay relatively upright as she sailed through the air. Her eyes widened as she descended rapidly toward the grass. It’s OK, I’m unbreakable! She landed hard on her feet and then tumbled for a moment before coming to a stop.
Sally lay on her back, cape covering her face. She sat up, excited to look back and see how far she had jumped. Wow. Pretty damn far. It was difficult to make out her father from this distance. Hopping to her feet, she smiled proudly. That was awesome!
Then Sally hopped, skipped and jumped back over to her father. Shane tossed her a candy bar. “Impressive,” he said, a faint smile on his face. “Not as impressive as throwing a vehicle across a field, but...”
“True.” Sally tore off the wrapper and began to devour the candy bar. Soooo good!
When she was all done, Sally wondered if she even needed food anymore. Food, drink, air—perhaps these things were her weakness.
There were similar thoughts going through Shane’s mind. What exactly could Sally endure? Was it possible to kill her? Would even old age kill her off? Then a dreadful image came to Shane—Sally wandering the wasteland, alone, as an old woman. Everyone else on the planet had died and it was just her. Immortal, unkillable Super Sally, alone on a dead planet. Doomed to wander the wasteland for eternity.
Jesus. He hoped that there was some way Sally could end it all if she ever had to.
After gulping the last of his drink, Shane said, “Let’s go.” He threw the can onto the grass.
As they continued their journey, Sally began to fantasise about having her own TV show. The Adventures Of Super Sally. Just like those old cartoons she used to watch on the weekend. What would her arch nemesis look like? What kind of powers would they have? Sally had physical abilities, like super strength and invulnerability, so the villain would probably have something like mind powers. Telekinesis, mental manipulation—something along those lines.
Every week they would battle it out. Super Sally vs. Mind... something-or-other. Kids would cheer for Sally as she beat the snot out of her enemy. Sally’s costume, of course, would be something far more impressive than a red bed sheet and goggles. It would be all hi-tech, shiny, a massive symbol on the chest.
Look! Here she comes! It’s Super Sally! She will save the day!
She’s my favourite hero of all time!
Yo, Sally! Take a picture with me and my kid when you’re done saving the day!
Sally had a smile from ear to ear.
---
Shane slowed the car as he spotted a man (in his forties) on the road. The man stood in the middle of the road and held up his hand, hoping the car would stop. Then Shane realised that the man only had one arm—his left arm had been severed from the elbow down. Shane stopped the car and took his pistol out of the glove compartment. Swiftly, Shane exited the vehicle and aimed his gun at the stranger on the road.
“Don’t shoot!” the stranger said. “D-Don’t! I... I was... I was wondering if you could spare me some supplies?”
“No,” Shane said firmly. “We can’t.”
“OK. That’s OK, I understand.” The stranger put his hand down and glanced back over his shoulder. “They won’t let you in you know.”
“What?”
“They won’t let anyone in. Not at the moment. It’s been a bad few weeks. Months.”
“What are you talking about?”
The stranger shook his head. “You sure you can’t spare anything?”
“No!”
“That’s fine, man.” He noticed Shane looking at his arm (what was left of it). The stranger held up his arm, which was covered in bandages. “My punishment. This and banishment.” He raised his thick eyebrows and slowly nodded. “Can’t say I don’t deserve it.”
“Punishment for what?” Shane couldn’t help but ask.
“Lots of things, really.” The stranger lowered his head and recalled the events that had lead to his punishment. “I messed up real bad.” He looked Shane in the eyes. “I’m telling you, they won’t take you in. Not right now.”
The hopeless stranger walked on by, Shane kept his gun on him until he was a good distance down the road.
CHAPTER 10
They won’t let them in. What the hell was that guy talking about? It soon became clear to Shane what that stranger had meant. They were approaching a neighbourhood—not an abandoned one like before. People. Sally’s eyes lit up. Could this be it? Could this be what they had been looking for?
A line of old cars were blocking the entrance. Shane stopped his car, and got out. A young woman with a rifle stood behind the line of cars. She aimed her gun at Shane. “Hold it!” she yelled.
Nervously raising his arms, Shane said, “Me... and my daughter... we...”
“Sorry!” the woman said. “You’ll have to go elsewhere.”
“Just listen...”
“Turn around and leave or I’ll shoot you in the fucking head!”
Then, Shane noticed more gunmen on the roofs of the houses. “Please, we need somewhere...”
“Not here!” the woman said, slowly shaking her head.
“I’m begging you...”
“Beg all you like, you’re not coming in t
o this neighbourhood.”
There was no convincing her, clearly. Shane turned and looked toward Sally. “Fine,” he grunted to himself. “No more begging.” He returned to the car and got in.
“They have to let us in. This is what we’ve been looking for,” Sally said, distraught.
“They won’t let us, Sally. They don’t want to help. They don’t care what happens to us.” Shane looked bitterly toward the neighbourhood. “No matter how much we beg, they won’t let us in.”
“Now what?”
“Well...” Shane looked her in the eyes. “We could leave, try somewhere else. Or... we could stop asking these people, and start telling them.”
Sally thought for a moment. “Do you think they’re good people? What if they’re not?”
“There’s only one way to find out. They didn’t shoot us on sight, that’s a good sign. Anyway, if they’re not good people, then Super Sally will sort them out.” He smiled at her.
“Yep.” She smiled back. “So... we’ll force our way in and... see from there. I hope they’re like Bruce and his people.”
“Me too.”
Sally looked at the woman behind the row of cars, then she looked at the gunmen on the rooftops. “I’ll disarm them... and I’ll throw their guns over to you.”
“I’d say be careful but...”
“They can’t hurt me.”
“No they can’t. OK. Do it.”
Sally put her goggles on and got out of the car. She strolled up to the woman behind the line of cars. “You really aren’t going to let us in, are you?”
“Go back to your daddy, little girl,” the woman replied, a hint of guilt in her eyes.
“My name is Sally. What’s yours?” she asked merrily.
For some reason, the woman decided to give her name. “Carla. I can’t let you in here, Sally. I’m sorry.”
“Can you at least explain to me why?” Not that it mattered, they were getting in one way or another.
“We have our reasons,” Carla said. “Now go back to your dad and find somewhere else.” Sally stood with her hands on her hips, smiling. Carla wondered what the hell the smile was all about—it was as if the kid didn’t understand what she had been told. “Go on... go.”
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