The most exquisite shade of pink spread across her cheeks and kept going until it reached the tips of her cute little ears.
"I'm sorry, I have a lot going on in my life, but you need to know what’s about to go down." She glanced back where the lumberjack had gone, then over at the front door. Yanking on his arm as if to drag him back to his team, Samantha had about as much a chance of moving him as a feather pressed against a fence.
Does she know that guy? He seemed a little old to be an ex-boyfriend, but I don't judge.
"Um, help, help, I'm being assaulted," he whispered.
Her ears turned a darker shade of scarlet, and she snatched her hand back. "This is serious. That guy you just walked past is Scorch...and I'm pretty sure he's going to be back out here in a minute, in costume."
There goes our lunch break. Nephilim is going to be sad it's back to fighting already. "That's a serious allegation, Miss Gray. How sure are you?"
"Ninety-nine percent. I was on the bus when he attacked, and I saw him up close. I'd recognize his voice in my sleep." She shivered, voice shaking, but her eyes were steady. "He has a woman partner at the front door. I didn't hear anyone else."
Good thing I'm a Boy Scout, always prepared. "Shit. I'll grab the team. Go through the kitchen and get the employees out the back. I'm deputizing you for an evacuation. Don't look at the woman, and don't stop until you are clear of the building."
"Who said I was stopping? I'm getting out of this messed up city."
Girl, I know you have a serious beef with accepting help, and you hate authority, but you can't just run off every time there's trouble.
"Hold up, if you stick around, we can get drinks while I question you afterwards." He fished in his utility belt for his red Authorized Hero Evacuation clip. "Get that back to me afterwards. If it's really him, you saved lives tonight. I’d even go so far as to call you a—"
Her face contorted into a half smile, half frown, as she interrupted him. "Don't you dare call me a Hero. As long as you and Trevor are okay, then I'm glad I said something. I guess I have to give this back to you afterwards, so be careful."
Samantha paused as if thinking. "The woman can see us talking. She said something into her phone about someone named Transience. I uh, heard it a minute ago." She left.
He ran.
"Hey everyone, sorry to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I hope you all brought your Villain stomping boots."
The woman Samantha had pointed out was nowhere to be seen. "Also, there's two of them and I'm not sure where the woman is."
Scaleface pulled himself up, ramrod straight, without a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Ha, ha. Great joke, but do you think you could tone it down for the next hour or so?"
"No can do, mon capitaine. I have it on good authority that Scorch is taking a dump as we speak...and from the look he gave me, I expect him to come out all fired up and blowing smoke rings."
Cherrybomb hefted her empty hand, as if it held something heavy and dangerous—; which it did. "Are you fucking serious? We get one lunch in four days of looking for that asshole, and he literally shows up in the middle of it? This guy needs me to rearrange his priorities."
Suckerpunch held up both hands. "Whoa there, this place makes the best pizza in town. We need to try and shut this down peaceably, or we won't be allowed to eat here ever again."
Nephilim wrapped her clawed hands around Connor’s wrist and her gorgeous brown eyes frowned up at him. "I'm sorry Connor, but I don't think this is a good time to worry about food." She pulled on his arm, and he obligingly moved out of the way.
A yellow ball of fire was shooting across the room, aimed directly for their table. Nephilim shouted. "We don't have to fight."
Mere feet from her face, the fire zipped around her and exploded through the wall behind them. The impact shattered the windows on either side and the fire went out, leaving only trails of smoke from the burned wood.
People call me reckless, but I got nothing on Nephilim. Suckerpunch shook his head admiringly and went to work.
Scaleface whispered to the group. "Cherrybomb, take Battleplan out through the hole and watch for reinforcements or attempts at escape. Watch for the woman too. You can't really touch Transience, but you can disorient him with loud noises. The rest of us need to keep this contained. Nephilim, with me. Suckerpunch, do your...wait, where's Suckerpunch?"
Suckerpunch chortled to himself as he belly-crawled out of sight along the wall. The dust, smoke, and darkness offered excellent cover. He kept below the shattered windows and circled around to flank Scorch, breathing easily despite the dust. Gotta love Biokinetic durability; built like a tank, inside and out.
Back at the table, the new kid was quickly running his hands across the team, including the back of Nephilim’s leg, while she stood between the team and the cautiously approaching Villain. The kid had finally chosen Battleplan as his code name, which was a big improvement over his first choice.
A sharp blue glow flickered into existence around Scaleface's hands, and a gentle wind blew in through the windows as he began building his aerokinetic body. It wouldn't be long before the Pyrokinetic would have something large, and vaguely dragon-shaped in his face.
Ignoring the back and forth between Scorch and Nephilim, Suckerpunch left the wall to press himself against the salad bar and risk a peek between two large bouquets of kale.
The large hole and broken windows let in a surprising amount of sunlight, enough to see despite the lights going out during the first attack. Did that bastard drop a smoke bomb? That's cheating!
Scorch, mask on and carrying a glowing orange staff, faced the rest of Starstuff, leaving his back to Suckerpunch. Smoke floated up from where he'd thrown the fireball, enough to mess with visibility. He was still distracted by Nephilim.
Scaleface huddled behind Nephilim, visible to Scorch, but keeping his head down to avoid screwing up her power.
The power of friendship is great and all, but the power of a boot to the head is stronger. Seizing a full pitcher of water from the salad bar, Suckerpunch launched it at the Villain's back, then charged.
"Lookout behind you!" a woman called from the front door.
Despite the warning, the pitcher exploded across Scorch's back, dousing him and his fiery staff. The jet of fire at the tip hissed and spat, but kept burning.
Ice water and shards of plastic pelted the ground around Suckerpunch as he arrived at his target. Shoulder forward in a classic sacking maneuver, he aimed to put the Villain down in one decisive move.
Scorch contemptuously sidestepped the Hero and waved sardonically as Suckerpunch sailed past him.
No matter, easy enough to reach out and— He stopped the charge, but kept moving forward, skating across the suddenly greased floor to slam headfirst through a booth and into the wall. Debris showered the floor around him.
Someone laughed.
"Wow, I'm hurt. I thought we were friends Nephilim, then you send the court jester to ambush me?" Scorch sounded genuinely insulted.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know he was going to do that." Nephilim's voice was tense. "Could we take this outside? I'm willing to let you leave freely if there's no more property damage and no deaths."
"Not going to happen darlin’. You can leave on account of our friendship, but we have a death already, unless you think your idiot can recover from putting his head through beams that thick. I can't let the brat go either, so I'm afraid we have to handle this the usual way."
Suckerpunch heaved himself out of the wreckage of the booth. "Ha! That isn't even the hardest thing I've hit with my head this week. One time this great big dude used me as a hole punch on the freeway. Took me almost a week to bounce back from that one."
"Oh goody, the idiot speaks...are you going to dump more water on me?" Scorch said.
Suckerpunch shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea. Some Pyrokinetics can't make fire when they're wet."
Scorch laughed. "Are you fireproof or just really stupid?"
&n
bsp; "Not fireproof, just resistant." Swaying slightly, he hefted a metal post from beneath the demolished table. "Tell you what, I'm a bit dizzy and you are kind of a dick, so how about you we go outside, and I won't start a game of whack-a-mole with your head."
"Or I can burn my initials into your spine and leave you for dead." Scorch pointed low with his brightly burning club.
"You totally could, but Nephilim has weak lungs. Too much smoke and she'll die."
Scorch glanced at Nephilim.
Standing alone a few feet away from Scorch, she coughed politely and smothered a smile.
Eyeing his distracted enemy, Suckerpunch pulled the pole back to throw it like a spear. It slid backwards out of his hands.
Feminine laughter rang out from the doorway. "Tsk, tsk. Hitting someone from behind is rude."
Outside, a series of small explosions went off in quick succession, followed by a string of Cherrybomb's favorite insults. The girl could teach a class on professional grade mockery; probably why they got along so well.
Butterfingers glanced out the door. "Looks like the rest of the team's here."
Suckerpunch threw a chair at the woman and charged Scorch again. This time he hit the floor face first, again sliding past the thoroughly amused Villain.
"Butterfingers doesn't need to concentrate, idiot." Scorch chuckled. "How about you tell me a good joke and I'll just melt your legs off instead of your face."
Holding both middle fingers out behind him, Suckerpunch's slide slowed to a stop near the shattered windows. "I'd say something funny, but you have something much bigger to worry about."
A blue serpent, winged, semi-transparent, and about fifteen feet long, filled the space behind Scorch.
Nephilim was nowhere in sight.
It's not fair. I break my neck coming up with quips and jabs for an entire fight, while she just hugs everyone and bails.
The room echoed with Scaleface's booming voice, though his fanged lips didn’t move. "It's over. Surrender. Now."
"What about my pride man?" Suckerpunch writhed helplessly against the floor without traction. He tried jamming his fingers into a crack in the shattered wall, but they slid back out without gripping. "Can you at least tail whack Butterfingers so I can get in on the action?"
"I—" A crackling pillar of flame hit the serpent in the face, spreading down its length to engulf the entire ethereal monster.
The serpent coiled in on itself, ripping into the concrete floor as it did so, its normally opaque blue flesh reflecting red and outlining Scaleface curled up safely inside. The tip of its tail slithered over to poke out of the nearest broken window and stopped moving.
Scorch, who was now standing on the salad bar, shouted over the roaring flames. "That's what I thought. Man, you might be immune to bullets, but everyone feels the heat."
"Hey boss, it's pretty quiet outside. You want to me to shoot this asshole so I can go see what's taking our team so long?" Butterfingers, stood just out of reach, pointing a revolver at the helplessly struggling Suckerpunch.
"Yeah, then nab the brat and get the fuck out of here."
"No, please don't shoot me— " He covered his face with his hands.
She emptied the cylinder into him. The first bullet took him in the chest, the rest spread across his upper body, pushing him back a few inches with each impact. Suckerpunch stopped moving.
Then he laughed. "Oh stop, it tickles, please stop."
Butterfingers, momentarily nonplussed, looked to her boss.
Immediately Suckerpunch yanked a black ball off his belt and chucked it at her head.
The ball, about two inches across, struck her square in the face...and burst like a balloon filled with pudding. Sludge splattered across her head and upper body. Bubbles formed around her mouth and nose from exhaled air, then burst to leave openings behind where she could breathe. It quickly dried into a tacky paste.
"Ahh! Get it off." She tripped over a shattered chair and stayed down, digging at her face with both hands.
"Don't worry, it's pet friendly," Suckerpunch told her.
Bits of bloody metal, mashed into small mushrooms, fell to the floor as Suckerpunch hopped to his feet. "She doesn't need to concentrate, but she does need to see, or she loses control after a short time." He pointed at Scorch. "You, on the other hand, have a concentration problem. I read up on you. You can only direct one fire at a time."
Scorch eyed him silently.
"If you stop roasting Scaleface, who is fine in there by the way, he's going to roflstomp you...but if you don't, I'm going to beat you senseless. I guess you have a choice of which way you want to go. His teeth, or my or fists?"
The Villain dropped down from the salad bar and raised his club. "I know about you, too. You dance around and act tough but hide behind gimmicks and distractions. Coward."
Nodding in agreement, Suckerpunch brushed at the thin lines of blood running down his neck and chest. "Yep. I'm actually terrified of Furbies. Damn things are creepy as hell, always talking and moving their eyes—"
Snatching up a bucket of ranch dressing, the Villain hurled it across the room and charged after it. The Hero sidestepped the bucket, and most of the sauce, then launched a metal napkin dispenser at Scorch's knees. Scorch turned his jump into a flying kick that rocked Suckerpunch back a step.
On the floor, Scaleface continued to burn.
Striking and blocking in rhythm, the two of them moved like they'd choreographed each attack and defense. Strike, block, kick, dodge.
Suckerpunch’s head rocked back, but he took the punches without complaint, keeping his distance from the burning tip of the Villain’s staff. Luckily, it was slow and heavy.
Eventually, Scorch forced the Hero’s arm down and landed a solid hit across Suckerpunch’s head with his club.
Suckerpunch dropped to one knee, grinning through the blood dripping down his face. Smoke rose from the cut across his forehead, not quite cauterized.
Scorch backed up to lean against the salad bar, both men breathing heavily and bleeding from half a dozen small wounds. He winced as he gingerly put weight on his right leg.
Suckerpunch spoke first. "Just wanted to take your measure, but it looks like the team's back. I can't say it's been fun, but it was interesting." He bowed.
Going off at half her usual strength, Cherrybomb's explosion was more than enough to blow the weakened Villain off his feet. He tumbled across the floor and slid to a stop against the wall, kicking weakly. He didn't rise to his feet.
Suckerpunch pulled a squeeze tube from his utility belt and dropped onto the prone man. I call this the krazy kuffs maneuver.
Leaving both the prisoner's arms free, Suckerpunch blocked a weak swing and rabbit punched the side of the prone man's head until he lost his grip on his club.
The shimmering blaze surrounding Scaleface winked out, though smaller fires still burned among the furniture.
Air hissed through his coils, more black than blue now, but he didn't stir.
Tossing the steaming club out of reach, Suckerpunch squeezed the contents of the tube down both of the stunned man's arms and pressed them together.
"Did you see that? Best throw of the day," Cherrybomb chirped. "Whoa, you two still alive in there boss, or did we miss an old fashioned barbecue?"
Battleplan followed her inside.
"Ha ha. Very funny. What took you so long?" Suckerpunch picked the club off the charred floor and tossed it back and forth from hand to hand. "Hot, hot, hot."
Battleplan answered. "Transience was out there with Blood Clown. They dropped half a dozen fear bombs on random shoppers before bailing when Cherrybomb did the same to him. We really need a Telepath on the team, or something that can deal with Teleporters, or whatever that guy is."
Still on the floor, Scorch struggled to pull his arms apart. They clung to each other, the flesh stretching unpleasantly.
"Oh, yeah, about that. I wouldn't pull too hard if I were you. It's going to really, and I mean really hurt," S
uckerpunch said.
The blue dragon heaved itself up, and then blew away in the wind to reveal Scaleface in the crater his other form had left. He was on his hands on his knees and covered in sweat.
Cherrybomb made fake retching sounds as she watched Scorch pull at his arms. "Sucker, can you please come up with a better way of doing that? It's so gross when they pull them apart anyway."
Suckerpunch yanked a modified squirt gun from another pocket, watching his opponent intently.
Scorch sneered. "It's just skin." Cords of muscle stood out on his neck as he lifted his arms and slowly forced them apart. A line of blood began winding its way down his bicep.
Scaleface stepped between them, slapping a pair of plastic cuffs over Scorch's wrists before the heavier man could finish breaking free. He cinched them tight and yanked the Villain to his feet. They stood, eye to eye, with matching glares.
Suckerpunch put his lemon-juice squirt gun away with a sad sigh. "You are under arrest for Prime Crimes, specifically mass property damage, attempted assault, assault, and attempted murder. You have no rights and no assumption of innocence. In short, you are fucked."
"We'll see how long it lasts, Hero." Scorch spat at the Suckerpunch's feet. "You can catch me, but I already proved you can never keep me."
Scaleface chuckled and accepted the cooling club from Suckerpunch. "Last time we didn't know your Vortex is iron. This time your team is on the run, and your power out of reach. Supermax Prime is keeping a nice polymer cell open for you, if you should stop by."
Nephilim entered quietly through the front door. "They moved to a new location after you two went inside, but the rest of them are fleeing now that Scorch is down. Well, whatever you call the thing Transience does to get away, he did it."
"It's fine. Any wounded on our side?" He eyed the bat-like woman carefully.
"You and Sucker had the worst of it but you two are pretty tough." Nephilim put her hand on Scaleface's shoulder and whispered in his ear.
He listened, then nudged Scorch to get him moving. "All right, everyone out. We have some witnesses to deposition. I doubt this guy will tell us much, but someone out there might know what they were after."
Encrypted Page 22
