by Hal Bodner
I felt no fear. I wasn’t the slightest bit intimidated. What I was, was envious. Though the jury was still out on whether Thanatos was insane, or clever, no one could deny that the guy had a marvelous sense of theater and knew how to make an entrance.
In person, his body was even more impressive than it looked in the video. Next to Thanatos’s get-up, George Clooney’s and Chris O’Donnell’s bat suits were barely a step above burlap sacks. And that cape! I lusted for the cape almost as desperately as I lusted to see Thanatos without the cape.
The hell with the cape. If truth be told, I lusted to see Thanatos without anything between him and the brightly shining sun but a thin film of baby oil.
And then I spotted the boots.
The boots were a foot fetishist’s wet dream come true. I’ve never been into feet. Nor am I one of those gay men who has three hundred pairs of shoes in his closet. I’ve got sneakers for the gym, my day-to-day office shoes, an old pair of work shoes that I wear when I’m doing stuff around the house, and a pair of Cole Haan’s that I wear with a suit whenever Peter and I go to a nice place for dinner. Yet, if I’d seen Thanatos’ boots on sale at the mall, I’d have been sorely tempted. Not only did they extend almost to his knees, they managed to highlight that muscled bump in his calves that no amount of squats will get you unless you’re genetically predisposed to it. Sable black, the supple leather was so highly polished that it looked like it had been painted onto him and was still wet.
The pièce de résistance, though, was the scooter. Actually, it was more like a flying surfboard than a scooter, but it had a steering column at the front, and wing-like embellishments extended from both sides to create a batwing effect. Naturally, it was painted as black as molten tar. I gave Thanatos points for consistency even if his color scheme was a bit predictable.
It was decorated with a lot of gears and pistons which, for all I knew, might have actually served some real purpose. In a lot of ways, the design reminded me of Captain Dirigible’s penchant for Steam Punk except that Thanatos’ taste seemed to be more Gothically inspired. Fixed between the handlebars like a ship’s masthead, there was a sculpted mask that was the twin to the one Thanatos’ was wearing.
“A little warm for leather, isn’t it?” I called out.
“Glass houses,” he said. “Spandex doesn’t breathe particularly well either. And what is it with you and that color?” He shook his head with mock sadness at my lack of taste. “Found a parking space for your unicorn, did you?”
I bristled and mimed rolling up my sleeves. “I really do hope those muscles aren’t just for show. It’ll make it that much more challenging to beat you to a pulp before I haul you in.”
There was a long pause during which he seemed to be waiting.
“That’s it?” he finally asked. “I’d expected something snappier from the Whirlwind.”
I felt warmth rising into my cheeks when I realized that he was actually amused by me!
“Will snapping closed the handcuffs be snappy enough for you?”
“Oh dear.” His lips curled downwards in what I thought was a frown. Under the mask, it was hard to tell. “I was really looking forward to experiencing some of that infamous Whirlwind wit firsthand. Now you’ve gone and ruined my illusions.” He made that tongue-clucking tsk sound that always sounds sarcastic…usually because it is sarcastic. “Whatever can we do to restore my faith in you?”
I was annoyed, mostly because the smug prick was right. Usually, I’m far smoother and more urbane. There was something about him–aside from all those muscles staring me in the face–that was throwing me off. It sure as heck wasn’t his voice. The artificial distortion device that he was using made him sound like a kitchen dispose-all. The gizmo he was using was mounted on a little leather collar…
…pressed against the base of the sinewed column of his throat…
…just above the deep indentation between his pectorals…
…right at the place where his chest flared into twin muscled slabs of…
I shook my head to clear it.
“You’re one to talk. A nipple suit?” I scoffed.
Damn, I couldn’t shift my focus from the guy’s spectacular chest!
“Nipples have their uses,” he crooned.
Something about the way he said it made my knees go all watery. I was a married man, dammit! And yet…
He fiddled with a switch and put his devil-mobile into PARK, before he stepped effortlessly onto the surface of the water tower. Thanatos moved like a panther, gracefully, with a kind of power lurking beneath the surface, but not hidden so deeply that it doesn’t let you know how powerful it is. Now that he was only a few yards away, I could see that I’d been wrong about him wearing body armor. The physique he displayed so shamelessly beneath its sheaf of supple leather was genuine. For long seconds, I stood there, drinking in every inch of him and doing my best not to drool. Under different circumstances, the tightness at my groin might have been quite pleasant.
Fortunately, I remembered in time that Thanatos was a fiend who had threatened hundreds of people’s lives. To keep my briefs from getting any tighter, I tore my gaze away from his torso and focused on his face.
In retrospect, that may not have been the best idea I’d ever had.
I’ve always been a sucker for guys with sexy eyes. Peter, for example, has really unusual, dark green eyes. I never tire of looking into them–especially when we’re both naked and breathing really hard. To my surprise, Thanatos’ eyes had a similar effect on me.
Their color was hard to judge. The cowl left bare a small area around each eye, and he’d covered the exposed flesh with make-up that had a weird reflective quality. Because of it, the best I could say was that his eyes were…well…not brown. I leaned forward, entranced, trying to get a better look. They were too dark to be blue, but they didn’t seem green either. Just when I was sure they were hazel, he inclined his head a tiny bit so that his irises caught the light and looked gray. In any case, the way they were stimulating my libido had little to do with their exact color.
The two of us stood there for several minutes, as if caught in some kind of stalemate, until I managed to get both my breathing and my hormones under control.
“You’re cute.” When he finally broke the silence, he sounded surprised.
One hand reached out as if to take my chin. I stepped back. As aroused as I was, I’m not stupid.
“Under that mask,” he continued, “there is some definite cuteness going on. I usually prefer blonds but, in your case, I’d be tempted to make an exception. It’s a pity we didn’t meet under less adversarial circumstances.”
Okay Alec, I thought. Pull yourself together and get down to business.
“I’m told,” I shot back, “there are some very cute guys in the Centerport Penitentiary. Of course, they don’t bathe regularly and they like to be called Crusher or Big Daddy. Maybe you could tell me what’s it like sharing a shower with thirty gang-bangers who confuse spit with KY. Oh, wait!” I smacked my forehead with one palm. “I forgot. You haven’t met them. Yet.”
It was my turn to be surprised when Thanatos burst out laughing.
“Now, that is the Whirlwind I’ve heard so much about.”
“I suppose…” I wanted to keep the guy talking, anything to take my mind off that damned body of his that was making me crazy. “I suppose you have no intention of coming along quietly? You should think about it. So far, you’re only looking at extortion.”
“You’re wrong about that, Cuteness. Don’t forget arson, kidnaping, and a murder or two, though that last couldn’t be avoided. I’m afraid that means I won’t be coming along quietly. I won’t be coming along at all. In fact, the main reason I showed up today was to meet the Whirlwind.”
“I’m flattered.” I kept all emotion out of my voice, but it was rough. He’d called me cute. I’d have preferred being called hot or studly, but cute would do just fine. Especially since he’d said it three times!
“You should be. I confess there’s an ulterior motive as well. I need to be certain that you understand me.”
“Understand you?”
He nodded.
“That I am capable of doing exactly what I threatened to do.”
The attraction dimmed and the chemistry between us–and I was positive it was mutual–soured.
“Roughly twelve hours from now, give or take, some of the ground crew down there will begin to experience distress.” He waved one gloved hand to take in the scientists and cops below.
“Feed the World. You activated the Three-Two-Three variant.”
“I’m impressed. Did you figure that out all by yourself?”
I felt a spasm of what was probably a sympathetic pain in the center of my chest while I struggled to remember the details of what Travis had told me. Understandably, my attention had been elsewhere at the time.
“Except that there is no tainted produce,” I said, maybe a little too smugly. “You haven’t had time to grow any. Snow White can’t eat the poisoned apple if it doesn’t exist yet. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all blah, blah, blah at this point.”
“Suddenly…not so impressed.”
He sounded disappointed and, in spite of myself, I felt like I’d let him down.
“You may want to have someone take a look at this.”
He tossed a small, black plastic cube at me but it fell short. I had to move my foot to keep it from sliding down the curve of the water tower.
“Don’t presume that this is the actual technology.” He wagged a finger. “Wouldn’t want to give you a chance to reverse engineer things too quickly. But it should provide enough evidence that I am capable of following through.”
He spun around, incidentally giving me my first glimpse of his equally incredible butt, and took a step toward the demonic flying skateboard.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going? You’re under arrest.”
“Please…” He drew the word out. “Let’s not be tiresome, shall we? Who’s going to stop me? You?”
“Damned straight,” I muttered.
“Not from what I can tell.”
A click sounded when he locked one boot onto the stirrup that kept him from falling off the scooter. I expected him to rev the engine like a demonic biker in some hellish motorcycle gang and peel off into the sky. But he paused before fixing the second boot into place. He stood there, a midnight specter astride his scooter, so still that it bordered on being spooky.
I got a clear impression that there was something troubling him. It wasn’t compassion, and it sure as heck wasn’t any doubt about doing what he had threatened to do. But I sensed a hesitation nonetheless. The silence lengthened for a good minute or so.
“Stand aside, my friend.”
All the flippancy was gone; there was no more sarcasm. It was a command, but it was uttered softly and with a quiet intensity.
“I’m prepared to take whatever steps necessary to get what I want.” His next words, unless I was mistaken, held some very sincere regret. “I didn’t realize you’d be so attractive. You have a very sweet quality that doesn’t quite translate in your TV interviews. No offense, but you tend come across as a little…” He tapped his temple. “…Dim.”
Before I could think of a clever riposte, he went on.
“In person though…”
Other than my husband, the last person who’d looked at me with that much naked lust was Erica the Eel. When she did it, it was creepy as hell. Somehow, I didn’t much mind when it came from Thanatos.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Or kill you. But that’s exactly what will happen if you persist in interfering. Please, for your own sake and the sake of anyone who loves you, stand aside.”
“Can’t do that.” My muscles tensed. I prepared myself to take him down.
“Pity.”
I launched myself at him. Unfortunately, as I believe I’ve mentioned before, I am not the most graceful person in the world.
I caught him around the waist just as he placed his second foot onto the scooter. What I hadn’t counted on was the vehicle’s inability to support both our weights. It slid down the slope of the tower and keeled over. The next thing I knew, the scooter was hovering upside down in midair; Thanatos was hanging from the scooter by one foot.
And I was hanging from Thanatos.
“Idiot!”
The flirtatious tone was gone. He snarled the word. He grabbed my forearms, and tried to pry my grip loose from around his middle.
I wasn’t having any of it. I shifted position and started climbing up his body which, given that he was upside down, was more like climbing down his body, toward his feet. He wriggled to get free but I managed to hang on, uncomfortably aware of how close my face was to his groin, and vice versa. Thanatos grunted and jack knifed so he could reach the scooter’s controls. He flipped a switch and the engine took on a high-pitched whine. The contraption rose a few feet.
“Get…off!”
The guy packed a really good punch. My solar plexus can testify to it.
“Not so fast.”
Hand over hand, I clawed up his thighs and onto his calves. If I could just reach the edge of the scooter, I could haul myself on top of…well, on top of the bottom. But Thanatos’ costume was slippery. I lost my grip and slid back a little. I glanced down, worried about how far above the ground we were and how much the fall would hurt. As a last resort, I could probably figure a way to knock the both of us out of the sky. I knew that at least one of us would survive the fall. As for Thanatos…would I be the only one who was upset because an arch villain was squashed like road kill?
I pushed aside my regrets, in advance, and readied myself to make my move. I was trying to judge the distance when…
“Holy shit!”
It wasn’t the pain, because it didn’t actually hurt. Mostly, I felt pressure. It was the mental image of what was happening that was so off-putting. The bastard was biting into my crotch!
“Are you nuts?”
I let go with one hand to make a fist and deliver a mighty wallop to return the favor.
My punch had more of an impact than his bite. He grunted in pain and, I suspect, involuntarily did something to the scooter’s controls. The warp drive or whatever kicked in, and the water tower receded behind us as we soared skyward. As we ascended, I found my attraction to full length capes waning; his was tangled around my feet, effectively preventing me from kicking free.
“You fool!”
I’d certainly heard that before, and from far more experienced arch villains than Thanatos was.
Upward we flew, ever upward until we were several hundred feet above the water tower. Over the whining of the scooter, I imagined I could hear shocked gasps from the onlookers below. I most definitely heard shouts of alarm when the engine abruptly overloaded, belched smoke, and cut out completely.
I had just enough time to utter the Oh! part of Oh, shit!
We plummeted like a trio of bricks until all three of us–Thanatos, the devil-mobile, and me–smashed into the water tower. I’d been expecting the bone-crushing crunch of my body impacting with the asphalt parking lot or, at least, that some of my organs would be jellied when I plowed an extremely deep furrow in one of the fields. So, the chilly water closing over my head surprised the hell out of me. The unexpected dousing, the shock of cold, and the several gallons of water I swallowed when I opened my mouth to curse a blue streak, all conspired to make me lose my grip.
I broke the surface, sputtering and coughing. Aside from a shaft of sunlight bleeding through the hole above me, the inside of the tower was murky and dark. I treaded water and thrashed wildly as I spun myself around and foolishly tried to see into all the corners of a round space. All I needed was for Thanatos to jump me from behind–and not in a good way! When I wasn’t instantly set upon, my thoughts calmed and I realized that, unless he’d come loose in the crash, there was a good chance that Thanatos’ foot was still locked onto
the scooter. The weight of the thing would have dragged him straight to the bottom. Not unaware of the irony of the Whirlwind needing to rescue a bad guy, no matter how hunky, I took a deep breath, preparing to submerge and look for him.
I needn’t have bothered.
Apparently, the scooter’s engine didn’t like being wet any more than I did.
The force of the explosion momentarily pinned me against the roof of the tower. All around me, the water bubbled and sloshed madly. I had time to grab a single gulp of air before my body was seized by a powerful suction from below. As I was drawn through the churning maelstrom, I glimpsed a large rupture in the bottom of the tank and I realized that I was being sucked straight for it. I was moving too fast to grab the broken boards at the edge and stop myself from hurtling through. Rather than risking the attempt and tearing off a limb, I extended both arms above my head, formed my hands into fists, and straightened my spine. With any luck, I’d emerge from the tank with the grace of a professional high diver, and not with my arms and legs flailing helplessly.
The bad news is that I wasn’t entirely successful. The good news is that there was no one waiting inside the barn with a cell phone to record my shame.
I shot out of the tank at an angle, moving like a rocket. Happily, soaring through the air like that is not a very relaxing experience, so my body remained tensed. More importantly, some instinct told me to keep my fists clenched in front of me like a human pile-driver. It was the only thing that kept me from hitting the barn face-first.
Smashing through the wood siding hurt. Smashing through the thick wooden beams hurt even more. Smashing into the side of the abandoned tractor hurt the most. But that was just my experience. If you ever succumb to a masochistic urge to throw yourself through barn siding, support beams, and rusty farm equipment–in that order–your opinion may differ.
At least, thanks to Travis’ genius, the costume remained intact when it hit all those metal blades. Nudity, even partial nudity, would only have added to my hurt and shame. As it was, I felt like I’d just been forced through a mechanical thresher which, come to think of it, is a fairly accurate description of what happened.
