Double Lives (Johnny Wagner, Godlike PI Book One)

by Matt Cowper

  “Befouler puts a signature in the null-raxite bombs he makes. A little something to distinguish his bombs from others, in case someone stole one and used it; then he’d know it was his, and could work backwards and maybe find out who snared his shit.”

  “A little something?” I said. “Too vague. Get specific.”

  “I don’t know what it is. Really. Shit, it could be food coloring for all I know. Whatever it is, it makes the explosion slightly more blue than a normal null-raxite explosion.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I teamed up with him a few times,” Gale Force said. “Of course, we each tried to keep our cards close to the chest, but a few secrets still spilled out.”

  “I’m not convinced,” I said. “I didn’t notice anything different about that explosion.”

  “You wouldn’t. You have to be wearing special glasses that enhance your vision, so your color sensitivity is higher. Befouler called ’em Retinal Visible Wavelength Increasers; I just call ’em Color Goggles. You press a few buttons on ’em, and they’re able to detect that blue color. Don’t ask me how it works exactly. He’s the egghead, not me.”

  “And you just happen to have a pair of these glasses?”

  “After Befouler told me about that special signature in his bombs, I swiped some, yeah. Figured they’d come in handy.”

  “So you watched the video of the bombing with these goggles on, and saw it was Befouler’s handiwork?”

  “Yeah. It had to be his. No one else knows how to make a null-raxite explosion that exact color.”

  “Couldn’t someone have altered the video, so the blast looked bluer?”

  “I guess it’s possible,” Gale Force said, “but they’d have to know how to duplicate that specific color and be able to add it to the video without anyone noticing something was off.”

  “You admitted you stole these goggles,” I said. “You could’ve figured out how they worked and added that color to the video. You could be trying to frame Befouler.”

  “C’mon, Wagner,” the villain said. “A few minutes ago you were calling me a loser, but now I’m a tech genius? Get real.”

  He was right. That plan was too complicated for Gale Force. If he wanted to take out Befouler, he’d just send a tornado into his lair; he wouldn’t go to such lengths to frame him.

  But that led to more questions. I thought back to what Deathrain had told me. According to her source, the Man in Black had bought the null-raxite bomb from Balderdash. If that was true, then Gale Force’s story didn’t make sense; Befouler wouldn’t disguise himself to purchase a bomb he could easily make on his own.

  Or would he? Maybe he did all that just to throw everyone off his scent….

  Even if Befouler wasn’t directly behind Neptune’s death, the bomb still could’ve originated with him, and Balderdash could’ve somehow gotten his hands on it and sold it to the Man in Black – but that didn’t fit, either. Why would that psycho sell a weapon he could put to good use? It was possible he was strapped for cash, but I didn’t think Balderdash was the kind of guy who fretted about the balance in his checking account.

  Someone – or everyone – was lying. This whole thing just kept getting thornier and thornier.

  “I’d like to corroborate this story of yours,” I said. “Where are the glasses now? Or better yet, where’s Befouler?”

  “I don’t know where Befouler is,” Gale Force said. “After Neptune’s head went kersplat, he disappeared. The glasses are…somewhere.”

  “Somewhere?” I pressed the flat of the blade against his thigh to remind him his manhood wasn’t safe just yet.

  “OK, OK, they’re in my jacket pocket. Left hand side.”

  “Well, isn’t that convenient,” I said, smirking. “You should’ve stowed them somewhere safe – but you didn’t think a Class D superhuman would hand you your ass, did you?”

  Gale Force had no reply to that, so I rummaged through his jacket and pulled out the goggles in question. They looked like standard swimming goggles, except I could see thin purple lines in the lenses.

  “Anything else I need to know?” I said.

  “No, that’s it,” Gale Force said.

  His response sounded sincere enough, for a villain, and I was nearly out of the time Vannetti had allotted me, so I removed my blade-hand from the villain’s pants and stood up.

  “OK, we’re done,” I said. “Dak? Give me my hand back, please.”

  “You are not going to remove his member?” Dak rumbled. “That is unfortunate. He does not deserve the chance to continue his piteous lineage. I will do what you ask, nonetheless.”

  That was unexpected. I figured Dak would bellow and threaten until I did something destructive to Gale Force. Our defeat of the villain must still have him satiated.

  The blade reformed into a five-fingered hand. I clenched and unclenched my God Fist, getting the feel back; having your hand turn into an inflexible blade, even for a few seconds, was unsettling. I’d kept trying to move my fingers during this interrogation, but of course nothing had happened, since my fingers hadn’t existed.

  I grabbed Gale Force by the collar and pulled him out of my office chair.

  “Hope MegaMax treats you well,” I said as I marched him to the door. “Word of advice: don’t eat the chicken nuggets. I hear they give you the runs.”

  Gale Force only glowered at me. Now that his sperm-shooter was out of danger, he was probably completely focused on vengeance. If he somehow broke out of MegaMax, he’d come after me again, and he wouldn’t toy around with me in the rematch.

  I’d have to come up with a plan in case that happened, find some better way to counter his powers – but not now. There was too much on my plate.

  I rapped on the door, and Vannetti instantly opened it. He looked Gale Force over, and seemed to be disappointed that he wasn’t in rougher shape.

  “Call it in,” I said. “I’m done with this asshole.”

  Vannetti started barking into his radio, and I shoved Gale Force out of my office. The cop followed behind us.

  “I’ll hang around until they cart him off,” I said, “just in case these nullifier manacles fail.”

  “They won’t,” Vannetti said, “but ya know what they say: better safe than sorry.”

  He pulled out his pistol and whacked Gale Force on the side of the head. There was a sickening thud, and the supervillain groaned and then collapsed onto the hallway, again unconscious.

  Dak laughed. “Again he is struck down. We have truly piled destruction on this goat-brained weakling.”

  I stared at Vannetti, but my scrutiny didn’t exactly make him blush from embarrassment.

  “Whaddaya looking at me like that for, Johnny?” he said. “You’re the one who basically tortured him. I just gave him a tap on the noggin so he stays peaceful.”

  “I didn’t…I barely scratched him.” I knew I’d crossed a line, but I didn’t feel remorse; I’d done what I had to do. The man had destroyed Erna, and nearly killed me, Mardi, and Vannetti. All I’d done was threaten him and give him a few tiny cuts on his thigh.

  I bent down and grabbed Gale Force by the shoulders. Vannetti picked up his legs, and we shuffled down the stairwell, to the sirens I could already hear screaming outside the building.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “How was your day?” Deathrain said, looking up from the knife she was sharpening.

  “Fine,” I snapped as I walked over to where she was perched on the roof’s edge. It looked like a precarious place to sit, but when you had a healing factor, I guess you didn’t worry too much about a ten-story plunge.

  I’d walked up all ten stories of the Russert Hotel, and was feeling the burn. The building had been abandoned for years, so there was no working elevator. I remembered when this place was a respectable establishment, but those days were long gone. Now the only things that checked into its musty rooms were roaches, rats, and the occasional hobo.

  Deathrain stood up as I approached,
and her knife and sharpener disappeared into one of her endless pockets.

  “Good evening, Deathrain,” Dak rumbled. “I will proclaim this: your presence again intoxicates me.”

  “Good to see you, too, Dak,” Deathrain replied, letting a chuckle escape her mask. “I’m flushed with excitement myself. Maybe after we complete tonight’s mission we can, you know, hang out? If it’s even possible to ‘hang out’ with a god….”

  “You can have an audience with Dakroth’gannith’formaz, if you desire,” Dak said. “We can discuss sundry destructive matters, and—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “You said ‘Deathrain,’ not ‘Rain of Death.’”

  “What is your point?” Dak said.

  “You never do that,” I said. “Rusher of Waves. Dasher of Balders. That’s how you talk. But now you say ‘Deathrain,’ like nothing out of the ordinary’s happened. Why?”

  “Gods are inscrutable, John Wagner,” Dak said. “Do not worry your puny mind over these matters.”

  “This is ridiculous.” I pulled off the glove on my right hand – not surprisingly, my God Hand was swirling pink and purple, like a Valentine’s Day advertisement.

  I sighed and looked over at Deathrain. Of course, her face was covered, but her body language made it clear she was enjoying this.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said. “Where’s Balderdash?”

  “You look like shit,” Deathrain said, stepping closer to me. She reached up and touched my cheek. “Look at these bruises….”

  I knocked the hand away – but only after her fingers had explored all my facial injuries. “I don’t wanna talk about it. Tell me where Balderdash is. This is probably a waste of time anyway.”

  I’d used Gale Force’s Color Goggles to review the video of Captain Neptune’s death, and I’d looked up other videos of null-raxite explosions to compare the supposedly different colors. Sure enough, with the goggles on I could clearly see the explosion that killed Neptune was bluer than a normal explosion.

  I was confident we should be tracking down Befouler, not Balderdash, but this appointment had already been made, so I was going to go along with Deathrain’s plan – for now.

  “Listen, shithead,” Deathrain said, her gentleness transforming instantly to venom. “Last time we talked, I said I wouldn’t put up with you withholding information from me. I’ve told you what I know – now let’s see some reciprocation.”

  “Tell the woman about our battle with Force of Gale,” Dak rumbled.

  “You fought Gale Force?” Deathrain said, her eyes racing across me. “And lived?”

  “Yeah,” I said wearily. “You must’ve missed the news bulletin: ‘Dangerous Supervillain Taken Out by Resourceful PI.’ It didn’t get much airtime, since nobody died – well, no human died – and almost no one saw the fight.”

  “So you beat him?” Deathrain said. “And now he’s in jail?”

  “That is correct,” Dak said, his voice even more arrogant than usual. “I, the one true God of Destruction, defeated this self-proclaimed supervillain. It did not take but the minutest portion of my power to—”

  “You’re full of shit,” I said. “If I hadn’t come up with a plan, we would’ve been crushed into a fine pulp. As it was, you were barely able to get through his air barrier.”

  “John Wagner!” Dak yelled in think-speak. “You are making me look bad in front of this poisonous ravisher!”

  “You act like you two can hook up!” I yelled back. “You’re – well, you – and she’s a human being! It’s not gonna happen!”

  “True, I cannot fornicate with her directly – that is, unless we can somehow transform this arm into a male reproductive organ—”

  “What?! That’s…that’s disgusting!”

  “It is not. I think you are just envious because my manhood would be bigger than yours.”

  “It…listen…we can’t—”

  “Now that I think on it, you probably do not know enough about human anatomy to properly turn this arm into a functioning penis. I admit I do not know how to do it myself – I have never attended one of those ‘sex ed’ courses you humans have in your schools. Very well, then – she can fornicate with you, John Wagner, and I can experience the passionate coupling vicariously.”

  “I…what…no, Dak, that’s—”

  “You must’ve camped a lot when you were a kid,” Deathrain said.

  “Uh…what?” I said, trying to focus on her.

  “Because you’re good at pitching tents.” She pointed to my crotch, and I looked down, and saw Johnny Jr. was at full mast. I turned around and adjusted myself so my erection wasn’t as visible.

  “You see?” Dak said, his own arousal blasting at my mind like a hailstorm. “Your phallus is ready to enter her sensual canal.”

  “Shut. Up. Now.”

  “Why were you fighting him?” Deathrain asked.

  “Fighting who?” I replied, distracted by Dak’s sex-talk.

  “Gale Force, of course – the person we were just talking about thirty seconds ago?”

  “Uh – it was something to do with an old case,” I said. No need to tell her everything – or anything at all. “Can we get going? Or are we just going to banter up here all night?”

  “Are you good to go?” Deathrain said. The venom was gone, and now there was a disconcerting amount of concern in her voice. “We can postpone this till tomorrow, you know.”

  “That fight with Gale Force was taxing,” I admitted, “but I got in a nap this afternoon. I’m fine.”

  We stared at each other for a few moments. A cool breeze drifted by, causing Deathrain’s gear to rustle.

  “Alright,” she said finally. “Balderdash has set up his psycho-camp on the old amusement park grounds. I don’t know exactly where he’s hiding, but that doesn’t matter. We’re going to knock loudly on his front door and make him come out.”

  “Razzle Dazzle?” I said. “I used to go there when I was a kid. Then they went bankrupt….”

  “Put those happy childhood memories aside,” Deathrain said. “The place is a death trap now. Remember, I have the healing factor, not you. I’m not a damsel in distress, and you’re not a gallant knight. Don’t do something stupid and get an arm lopped off.”

  “You mean, get another arm lopped off?”

  “I…yeah, I misspoke. Sorry.”

  Was this ice-cold assassin really apologizing to me? I looked hard at her mask, but my eyes couldn’t see through black leather, and her body language revealed nothing.

  “And are you really giving the man who just took down Gale Force a lecture in tactics?” I asked.

  “You’ve got a point there,” Deathrain said, reaching back to stroke Tony, the sniper rifle strapped to her back. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Disfigured horses stared out at us as we crept by. Most of them were covered with incomprehensible graffiti (“I LOVED NOT, THEN, ALIEN COW, NOW I CAN THINK OF MELODRAMA,” “NORTH, SOUTH, WEST, EAST – WHO CAN SAVE US FROM THE BEAST?”), probably courtesy of Balderdash, the man we were hunting. I shivered as I looked at the headless and limbless horses.

  I used to love this merry-go-round when I was a kid; I could almost hear the bubbling music it had played. Now, though, the once bright and joyous ride was macabre – like the entire amusement park. It seemed impossible that Razzle Dazzle could have turned into such an open sore.

  “You still with me?” Deathrain said, looking back at me.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just thinking about the past.”

  “I told you to forget about all that,” she said. “Focus on the here and now. This place has to be booby-trapped, and I’m sure Balderdash knows we’re traipsing around his turf.”

  “Then maybe we should move a little slower,” I said, “and maybe stick close to something we can hide behind, instead of walking right out in the open.”

  “You can hide if you want,” Deathrain said, “but I’ve got a healing factor. Let him hit me.�
�

  “Yes, let him attack us,” Dak rumbled. “I will defeat this Dasher of Balders as we defeated the Force of Gale – with the help of Deathrain, of course. I am happy to share the destruction with her.”

  I glared at my God Arm, but didn’t say anything.

  “I like your eagerness, Dak,” Deathrain said. She stopped and glanced around. “You know, I looked at satellite imagery of this place, but the real thing is…different.”

  “Different how?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, exactly. It’s sinister, yeah, but there’s something else, too. Did you notice those hearts spray-painted on the teacups ride?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “What about them?”

  “They don’t seem very Balderdash-esque….”

  There was a pop, and then the sound of something whizzing through the air. I ducked immediately, but Deathrain just stood there. Something thunked into her shoulder, and she groaned and staggered back a few steps.

  I got to my feet and rushed over to her. A large silver disc was sticking out of her shoulder; it looked like it had only stopped because it had hit bone. Streams of blood trickled down her arm.

  “Are you OK?” I asked, touching her lightly on the arm.

  She knocked my arm aside. “I’m fine.”

  She grabbed the disc and yanked it out, sending a stream of blood onto my jacket. I glimpsed bone and meat in the open wound, then Deathrain’s healing factor began to close it.

  “That was—” I began.

  “Intense?” Deathrain said. “Yeah, it was – believe me.”

  She didn’t sound angry or pained – she sounded exhilarated. She was almost bouncing on her toes.

  “What, you get off on this?” I said.

  “Yeah, I do,” she said. “Gets me in the mood for violence.”

  “I like this woman more and more,” Dak rumbled.

  Suddenly, a voice boomed behind us.

  “LEAVE ME NOW! I HAVE NO WISH TO FIGHT YOU.”

  Deathrain and I turned, and we saw that an arcade machine that had been randomly sitting in the weed-choked path had whirred to life. The voice seemed to be coming from the machine, and there was some sort of image on the screen.