Ex Supervillain

by Shouse, Brenden

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Good.” The engine lurched and hissed as she alternated between flooring the ancient vehicle and slamming on the jake-brake.

  The car door slammed, and I jumped up. I took a deep breath and looked around. It was still dark. I looked over at Alice.

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’re here, genius.” I got out of the truck. The ground was wet with dew. Alice started walking towards the motel, and I followed.

  “Smart-aleck.”

  “Always,” she replied. She hopped over the fence and started humming.

  “What’s with jumping the fence?” I asked. She turned around and smiled, her eyes twinkled in the neon light.

  “I have to get old. I don’t have to be lame.”

  I walked through the gate and rolled my eyes. I smiled in spite of myself. “Lameo.” She walked right past the stairs and pulled out a bundle of keys. The keys jingled and clanged as she searched for the right one.

  “Breaking and entering is always fun.”

  She snorted, “I own it.”

  “Really, what happened to not being boring and lame?”

  “Technically, Pineapple Pizza Rolls Inc. owns it.”

  “Did you stop growing up when you were ten?” I laughed.

  “My granddaughter came up with it.”

  It sounded like something Alice would say if she came up with a goofy business name. The pain hit me in the chest. I forced it down. I couldn’t lose control yet. Not while Alice was here. The motel room had two beds, a decent bathroom, and a TV made in nineteen eighty.

  I rolled into the bed. Alice jumped into the other bed, and it squeaked. She pulled out a bleach wipe and washed the remote before turning on the TV. I looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. It was surprising just how useful that skill is.

  “What?” She asked.

  “I didn’t say anything.” I smiled and turned back to the TV.

  “There’s a warrant out for you,” Alice said, motioning towards the TV.

  “How ironic.”

  Alice snorted, “Someone with a perfect record ruins it after retirement.”

  “Who else do you think will help?”

  Alice threw up her hands, “I don’t know. We’re the only ones that left the group.”

  I sighed, “A Pre-cog and a Tweener against one of the strongest super-villains on the West Coast. We’re screwed.”

  Alice yawned, “Elias isn’t the smart one.”

  “Neither am I.”

  “I wasn’t talking about you.”

  “Whatever.” I yawned and rolled over. Today was long enough but, tomorrow was going to be even longer.

  5

  Chapter 5

  I pulled into the parking lot. The neon sign lit the parking lot in a dull orange light. I slammed the door to the truck and cracked my neck. Knowing me, this was going to end in a fistfight. The passenger door slammed shut, and Alice walked around towards me. I checked the gun I had in my belt for the fifth time. I had a knife in my boot too, but I doubt that I’d have time to pull it out before I got stabbed or shot.

  “Shoulda got you the shotgun cane.”

  “Buzz off.”

  “You betcha.”

  The Arsonists Bar and Grill sign flickered. I took a deep breath and walked inside. The air was hazy with smoke, not just cigarettes but something stronger. “Pigskin” by Hollywood Undead screeched through the speakers. I looked back at Alice.

  “Don’t pick a fight,” she warned.

  “What? Me? Pick a fight?”

  “I can tell what you’re thinking,” she said.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I shrugged.

  She rolled her eyes, “We won’t know where to look if everyone’s unconscious.”

  I nodded, “I need a beer.”

  “No, you don’t.” I walked through the smoke. The bartender had a sign behind him of the Arsons’ logo.

  “What can I get for ya?” he asked.

  “Give something with vodka in it,” I said. The bartender rolled his eyes and reached under the bar for a glass.

  “Who do you work for?”

  “Myself, what’s your name?”

  “Kyle.” He reached under the bar and pulled out a shot glass. I shook my head.

  “Bottle.”

  Kyle frowned and set the bottle down. I sniffed it and wasted no time in gulping half of it down. He nodded and pulled out another bottle. I couldn’t get drunk, and alcohol screwed up my sense of smell and calmed me down a little. I frowned, not being able to smell in this place was a plus. I grabbed the second bottle and scoped around for a table. I found one that looked promising. Three tattooed men sat playing cards and nursing their drinks. I sat down and waved my bottle around before placing it on the table.

  “Do you fellers know someone hirin’?” I asked.

  One of the tattooed brutes sneered, “Yeah, why?” One of the other thugs put his arm on Face-Tat’s arm. The guy was a mountain of muscle. He looked like Dwayne Johnson on even more steroids, complete with Asian tattoos replacing ones that the old actor had. “What?” The tattooed guy asked.

  Dwayne Swollson stared at him and blinked, “Shut up, punk.”

  I raised my hands and leaned back, “I’m not trying to cause trouble.”

  Dwayne Swollson nodded at me and took another swig of his beer, “You don’t look like a cop.”

  “Construction. I used to be in the repo business.”

  Dwayne cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, “Really, why’d you quit?”

  “Had a kid, wasn’t worth it,” I shrugged.

  “Why do you want back in now?”

  “My daughter got a job in Chicago. I’d like to leave her something.” Technically, that was only a half-lie, I did want to leave Tanya something. I chugged some more, it wasn’t very classy, but come on, it had vodka in it. I smacked my lips and set the bottle down with a sigh. I looked back over at the guy with the face tattoos. “You guys got an application or something?”

  “I’m not hiring,” Dwayne said, speaking for the group.

  I smirked and took another swig of the bottle, “If you’re the boss, I’m not sure I want to apply anyways.” Dwayne’s arms rippled, and he stood up.

  He sneered down at me, “Get walkin’.”

  “Why Dontcha make me?”

  The other two thugs stood up. The chairs squeaked as they slid across the floor. The third thug, who I’d ignored till this point, looked like someone had shoved his face in a blender. Now I’ll admit that some scars could make someone a little sexy, but when someone’s face looked like it had gone to pound town with a meat grinder, it just said that they didn’t know how to duck.

  “I said take a walk,” Dwayne said.

  “Jeez, who whizzed in your cornflakes?”

  “Should I mess him up?” Meat-Head asked.

  “Please be gentle, boys. My safe word is cocoa puffs,” I smirked. A shotgun clicked behind me. I lifted my hands above my head and turned my head.

  “No fighting.” Kyle’s voice was smooth and hard. He could deliver on his not-so unspoken threat.

  The three thugs grimaced and backed up, raising their hands while they did so. I nodded and mumbled my apology. I grabbed my bottle and walked around. I saw that a lot of the other tables were watching me out of the corner of my eye. Alice looked over at me. She was talking to a couple of bikers. I could see the disapproval in her expression.

  There was an empty table in the back corner that I walked over to and slid in. I needed to avoid attention, at least for a little while. I downed the rest of the bottle and scoped out the bar. No one here looked like 9-5ers. But, then again, what else would you expect from a bar called Arson’s Bar and Grill?

  A cute blonde bobbed her head and walked over to me. She had a strong, purposeful stride. I got a glimpse of her eyes in the dull bar light, she looked excited, like a dog that just saw a treat. She slid into the other side of the table, facing me.
She thrust her hand in my face.

  “Name is Stacey, can I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “Do you know me?”

  “You’re Markus Jonathan Flanagan.”

  I felt sick, the alcohol I’d been drinking tried to come back up. This lady mustn’t be with the police, or she’d have already called them. I could get out of this, probably. Whatever she had to say, it must be good.

  “Keep your voice down,” I said, hoping that I’d put enough steel in the words.

  “How’s your daughter?” She asked. I felt my face heat up, and the sickness in the pit of my stomach worsened. I felt myself leaning forward. Stacey threw her hands up, “I’m not with them.”

  “Prove it,” I hissed.

  “I’m not with them. I don’t even know them. I do have a couple of theories.”

  “It was Elias.”

  Stacey nodded and scribbled her pen on the paper pad in front of her. I took another swig out of the bottle. Maybe if I drank enough, it would take the edge off of my nerves. Five or six bottles should do it.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. She looked up and blinked at me.

  “I’m a reporter.”

  “Reporters don’t come into a bar full of criminals and track down a felon who beat up two cops in a hospital and stole a cop car… allegedly, I mean.”

  “The cops weren’t hurt badly. That seems to be a thing with you.”

  “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Yes, but most crime majordomos wouldn’t bat an eye.”

  “I did, and you didn’t answer the question.”

  “I told you, I’m a reporter.”

  “Why are you here?” I asked. I stared at her, unblinking. It was a look that Alice affectionately called “the stare.” I’d learned a long time ago that if someone was lying you to and you just stared at them, they’d start talking.

  “You deserve to have your story told. I want to be close and get in on the action,” Stacey said. I massaged my temples. A headache was starting despite the alcohol.

  “Look, I’m just getting my daughter.”

  “You’re going through a metamorphosis.”

  “I know, I’m emotional, my body is going through some changes. You know what, buzz off,” I said. I could tell from her face that it wasn’t the response she’d been hoping for.

  “There’s a story here, and I’m going to get it,” She punctuated every word by slamming her finger into the table.

  “Are you sure you want to get involved?” I asked. “I don’t do interviews.”

  She slid her card across the table and stood up, “I’ll be in touch.” I snorted. Reporters never actually came back. She strutted out of there. More than a couple of guys watched her on the way out. Pigs. I flipped the card over in my hand before tossing it in the wastebasket.

  I looked over at Alice. She was now talking to some men in suits. Those guys looked like they’d be more Elias’ speed, the other three muscle heads I’d been talking to would be, at best, his enforcers. I downed the rest of the bottle. Dwayne, Meat-head, and Face-Tats were talking to some other muscular thugs, and they kept glancing towards me. I looked over and waved, then began making my way back up to the bar. I dropped the empty bottle in front of Kyle. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows before pulling out another bottle.

  I watched the thugs out of the corner of my eye. There was a brief glint of steel that was quickly shoved into a belt. I smiled. Regardless of who these guys were with, they needed a good kicking. I lowered the vodka bottle to the side and used my senses. Tweeners had Enhanced senses but, since most people weren’t Tweeners for more than a year, no one knew that it went farther than that. I could make myself have poor eyesight, and then suddenly, my hearing would be twice as good. I closed my eyes to try not to disorient myself so much and listened.

  “You questioning the boss?” I heard Dwayne say.

  “No,” one of the new thugs said, “I’m questioning you.” Dwayne flexed, and his face twisted into a snarl. I heard popping, and the new thug’s breathing changed.

  “You were saying?”

  “Ss-sorry, boss.”

  “That’s what I thought.” The thug slammed back into the wall, and I heard him whimper as he popped his shoulder back into place. I grimaced. I knew what that felt like far too well.

  “Get him to come outside,” Dwayne snarled, turning to look at me before making his way towards the door. I cracked my knuckles. It looks like I’m going to get to do my favorite thing in the whole world… beat the living snot out of thugs. I felt my danger sense start screaming as the half-dozen thugs surrounded me. Kyle pulled his shotgun out from under the table again.

  “Don’t, I’ll handle this outside,” I told him. One of the thugs snickered. I spun around in my barstool and leaned my elbows back against the table. AI above; I love spinning chairs. One of the thugs cracked his neck and sneered, the others all did more or less the same thing. “I’ll be outside in a moment, fellas.” I sighed. None of them moved. “Shoo,” I said, swinging my hands in a dismissing motion.

  “Outside now, before I get angry,” Face-Tats growled.

  “That’s a classic throwaway line.”

  “I’m gonna mess you up.”

  “Now, that’s not very hospitable.”

  “Outside now, or I’m gonna pay your daughter a visit.”

  My vision turned red. I don’t exactly remember what happened next, but I’ve been told that there is still a moron shaped dent in the bar from where Face-Tat’s face was slammed repeatedly until he had lost all of its teeth, and his tongue. Luckily, the bar wasn’t set on fire as I beat the goons. The next thing I remember was Alice pulling me off of Blender-Face. Face-Tats was the only one conscious. His whimpering could be heard on the other side of the bar. Dwayne was still outside of the bar. I turned around and nodded at Kyle.

  “Can I get a to-go box?”

  Kyle swallowed and nodded. He pulled out a cutout piece of cardboard. His hands blurred as he folded it into a box. He pushed it towards the end of the bar, as far away from him as he could manage.

  “Who-who are you?” He stuttered.

  I smiled, “I’m The Grinder, and I’m coming for what’s mine.” I picked up the box and tossed the dismembered tongue into the box and closed it. I looked over at Alice, she smiled, but I could see the bile rising in her throat. She looked. green.

  “I’m sending a message. I’m just making sure Elias gets it.” I spun and walked out of the bar. Dwayne stood to my right as I walked out, and he took a step back. I tossed the container containing Face-Tat’s tongue toward his feet. “You’re gonna walk out of here, but the usefulness of the information you give me will decide how many teeth you leave with,” I said.

  “What makes you think I’ll talk?” Dwayne smirked. I smiled, my anger wanted to lash out and knock him onto the floor, but I couldn’t. I needed information, and anyone else who had it was unconscious. “Look, he’ll kill me,” Dwayne whispered, suddenly backing down.

  “I’ve found that the best solution to most problems involves dealing with the danger in front of you, and worrying about the fallout later.” Dwayne gulped and looked behind me. I heard the quiet tapping of Alice’s gun against her leg. I cracked my neck, “He abducted my daughter.”

  Dwayne licked his lips and glanced back at Alice’s gun, “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Where do you meet Elias?”

  “I don’t know. He just calls us when he needs us.”

  “Bull, where do you get your money?” I demanded. The thumping of the gun stopped, and the click of the hammer being pulled back was loud. “I said, where do you get your money?”

  “The pawnshop.”

  “Which pawnshop?” I asked. The words hissed through my teeth.

  “The one on the twenty-second and ninth.” I glanced at Alice, and she nodded.

  “Sounds right,” she said. I looked back at Dwayne, making a shooing motion. I watched Dwayne’s back
as he disappeared into the darkness and waited until the buzzing of my danger sense wound down to just a tingle. Alice had already started the car, and it sputtered behind me.

  I turned and walked to the truck. I swung up into the seat and leaned back. Pain flared to life all over my body. Dozens of cuts and bruises that my body hadn’t told me about stung. This had never happened before. My skin creaked, and seemed to take on a metallic sheen in the light of the full moon. I gasped, barely containing my screams. Everything blurred and faded to black.

  6

  Chapter 6

  Well, good morning,” Alice said.

  “Morning,” I rubbed my face. My hands shook as I tried to wipe the sleep out of my eyes. I looked down at my hands; they looked normal. There were tiny silvery spots on my skin from where I’d been stabbed last night and hadn’t even realized it. Alice looked at me from the driver’s seat and nodded. “I don’t know what they did… I fainted, didn’t I?”

  “Yep,” she said.

  “Jeez, thanks for the sympathy, it’s not like I was stabbed or anything.”

  The sun reflected through the buildings. The top of the statue of the Unnamed Heroes reflected the light in a rainbow. The sculpture was reminiscent of The Statue of Liberty. It was made of titanium alloy and crystal, and the patterns of it alternated like a golden age comic superhero suit. Humanity used to dream about people like me. I wonder if they’d be disappointed in what we ended up being. There weren’t a lot of heroes anymore. The base of the statue was surrounded by plates honoring those Enhanced who fought the good fight for truth, justice, and the American way.

  “We added a lot of names there,” I said quietly.

  Alice took a deep breath and nodded, “Do you regret it?” I closed my eyes. I could still see their faces, the look in their eyes. I shuddered.

  “You?”

  “It was us versus them,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Vigilantism was still a crime.”