by Scott Mathy
Linda reluctantly drew her own phone from her uniform’s belt pouch. He told her the Doc’s personal number; she wouldn’t answer for Linda, but he didn’t need her to. He just needed to send her a warning that Bernard was coming. If Lia was back on her feet, Bernard didn’t have a chance. She’d shut him down the second she saw him.
Linda approached the bars, switching the phone to speaker mode. After three rings, Dwight expected the Doc’s A.I. to pick up and take his message; instead, Ellis’s bleeding face filled the screen. Her hair was a mess, along with a striking palette of bruises across the dark skin of her face. She didn’t have to explain for Dwight to know he was too late.
“Doc! Say something!” he shouted through the bars. He tried to reach for the phone, but Linda held it away from him.
Ellis coughed a bit, then found her words, “Asshole. He got through my security with the codes I gave him while you were out.” She pointed her phone’s camera at Ian, who sat bandaged on the floor, his arms crossed over his knees. He was awake, but wasn’t in any state to talk. “He took Dalia, Dwight.” She began crying through her swollen eyes. “He has control of the new limiter and she’s following him like a zombie. I’ve been trying to call you for hours.”
Dwight’s thoughts were racing. Bernard had gotten his powers back, but taking Lia with him was something else. He wasn’t a deep enough thinker to plan anything around Lia’s mind reading. Bernard would only think of her ability to enable and disable a Cape’s mental blocks. After a few seconds, he had it. “I’ll get her back, Doc, I promise. She’ll be alright.”
Ellis collected herself, “We’re working on a way to disable the limiter completely. I’ll send it to you when it’s ready.”
“That’s great. I’ll let you know when I figure out where he’s going.” It was a lie; he didn’t want to say that he was currently being interrogated in a cell. He figured he would work on one problem at a time.
“Dwight,” she added before Linda cut the call, “kill him. Make him pay.” He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was serious; if he didn’t, she would. He had never known Ellis to treasure anyone or anything. Even the one-of-a-kind items she warned him about breaking weren’t really precious to her. Lia was apparently different. He wondered if the Doc regretted getting her involved in their business.
Linda put her phone in the belt pouch and returned to the steel chair, studying her ex-husband. After a time, she sighed and spoke, “You’re going to explain what all that was, then I’m going to walk away: go.”
He frantically thought of everything that made sense about their current situation. “Bernard is using a telepath to restore his abilities. I don’t know where he’s taken her, but I need to find him – now.”
Linda wasn’t buying it, “From the state of the Doc, I’d say he’s a colossal prick. Why would she help him?”
“Her power is too much. It makes her crazy; she needs a limiter to function. If it’s not working right, it takes over her personality. She’d be set to follow simple commands. When it’s fully configured, she’s herself, but with restricted abilities. Instead of having an entire block screaming in her head, she’d have to focus on someone to read their mind.”
He thought further. Where would Bernard go if he had unlimited telepathic power in his grasp? With Lia under his control, he could take down any Power in New Haven – even Wulf.
“Holy fuck!” Dwight held his good hand against his throbbing forehead and pushed his hair back, feeling unforgivably dense for not seeing it sooner. “He’s going for the top. He’s going to use her to kill Wulf.”
“The Wulf?” Her voice was bursting with disbelief. “The ‘man who can’t be killed’ – your boogeyman boss? Fucking Wulf?”
“Lia can turn off a superhuman’s powers for about three minutes. It’s how I beat Midas. If she’s fixed Bernard – given him his powers back – and turned off Wulf’s, he could do it.” His ex-partner’s plan was unfolding little by little each time Dwight ran through it. “He wanted me to find a way to kill Midas for revenge. At the time, he didn’t know about Lia’s abilities, or he probably wouldn’t have bothered.”
She leaned forward, “Say he kills Wulf; what does it matter? All it would mean is that there’s one less vile piece of crap out there.”
Dwight shook his head, “You don’t get it. Wulf is a control freak; he’s interested in keeping some balance between Capes and criminals. If Bernard is in charge of StarPoint, it’s going to be a bloodbath. He’ll send everything, every Power in his arsenal, right here. He’s going to wipe you all out and kill anyone in the crossfire. Let me out of here! I can stop him!”
Linda had heard enough of her ex’s apocalyptic raving. “I can’t free you; not after what you did.” She got up and began walking away. “We’ll look into it.”
Dwight reached out between the beams, ignoring the heat searing his arm. “Please! It’ll be too late by then!” His shouting carried down the sleek hallway, but she was gone. He sat back on his cot, holding his throbbing arm against his chest.
He was alone, left with nothing more than the subtle hum of the energy imprisoning him in his tiny cell. In his thoughts, he could see Lia standing beside Bernard as he tore Wulf to pieces and ascended the throne of StarPoint’s criminal empire. There would be war. There would be blood, and there would be death for anyone who stood against Bernard’s new regime.
Fifteen
The low humming of the cell bars ceased abruptly, shaking Dwight from his apocalyptic daydreaming. He didn’t recognize the uniform of the masked Cape standing outside of the collapsing energy field. The plate covering the man’s face gave no hint to his identity. It didn’t matter, he supposed. In all likeliness, he was being led to his death in some arranged “accident” for his crimes against the Guild.
There wasn’t enough reason to struggle. He was in the middle of their lair, completely surrounded by hostile Powers. To make matters worse, this place was built like a maze; there was no way of knowing which way would lead him out. He didn’t even know if he was above or below ground. It was more probable he’d be brought down before he got off the floor. They’d be looking for a reason to kill him.
His captor gestured for him to stand. When Dwight took his time rising from the cot, the Power entered and gave him a forceful shove, pushing him into the hall. Despite his small stature, the guy was misleadingly strong. Superpowers were deceptive like that; physical size of the person didn’t mean shit if their abilities gave them the strength to lift a car with each arm. The masked Cape pointed down the hallway in the direction opposite where Linda had gone. Dwight continued to stall, if for nothing else than to annoy his guard. If he was going to die here without a real fight, he was at least going to annoy someone on his way out.
The lower half of the jailor’s mask receded, revealing the Power’s jaw. A familiar voice hissed, “Will you knock it off and hurry up? This crap isn’t going to last forever, and we need to be gone before it wears off.”
“Ian?” he asked. Dwight couldn’t believe that his frail, cowardly roommate was standing behind him. “How the hell did you get in here?” he whispered, still walking as directed for the cameras tracking their movements.
His roommate leaned close, noticing they were being watched, “I flew in. The Doc gave me some of her temporary power formula. Mine had flight in it.”
“You idiot,” Dwight nearly broke his performance to slap him, “That serum is going to tear you apart when it runs its course. How long ago did you use it?” He was shocked that Ian had been so reckless.
His roommate snapped back, “You think I don’t know that? Ellis gave me the full rundown on the stuff before I took it. She gave me a map of the place while she was injecting me.”
Of course she did. Dealing in sensitive information was practically a second job for the woman; a map of the Guild’s headquarters would be priceless to the right customer.
Dwight struggled to recall the details of the Doc’s serum from her earlier le
cture, “Okay, can you get us to an outer wall or something?
Ian stopped, “Yeah, where did you think we were going? Did you assume I took a potentially deadly drug and broke into the Guild’s headquarters with no idea what I was going to do?”
He was right. Dwight had a habit of forgetting that other people were capable of rational thought, especially Ian. “I’m sorry. It’s been a really shitty week. I didn’t mean to undermine you.”
“We can hug it out later or something. Right now, the poison jacking up my body is running out, and we need to be on the ground before it does.” He sounded stronger, more confident. Dwight would have to stop downplaying what his roommate could do. The man really was more than just an obsessive loser who occupied their living room; he’d proven that in the last few days. Maybe some genuine respect was in order.
They found a small, abandoned office at the corner of two halls’ intersection. Ian swiped his phone past the reader attached to the door. It slid open soundlessly.
Dwight was surprised by Ian’s display, “How the hell did you do that?”
“Who do you think programmed the software for the locks? I told you what I did for a living.”
Ian rushed to the opposite wall and began pulling thin stripes of putty from the small pouch he had around his waist. He quickly arranged them in a tight oval about two feet across. Dwight watched as his weedy roommate overturned a solid oak conference table and dragged it across the room with his enhanced strength. He gestured for Dwight to join him as he took cover. Seeing his roommate as a Power left Dwight dumbfounded for a moment.
Ian’s frantic waving brought him back, “Get down here! They’re set to blow.” He wasn’t kidding; the miniature explosives were ready as soon as they were set on the wall. The instant Dwight crouched behind the desk, the blast blew a hole straight through the wall, revealing the night beyond.
Immediately, alarms began sounding throughout the facility. It would be seconds before teams of Capes were sent to investigate the source of the explosion. Ian ran to the opening, peering out over the city. It was pouring outside, a storm to rival the one Ellis created the night of the Phoenix killing.
Rain fell in through the opening. The sky threw angry bolts of lightning, reflecting off the smooth angles of the skyscrapers surrounding them. At the far end of the city, StarPoint sat illuminated against the dark clouds. The lights surrounding the massive building shined like a beacon in the night. Somewhere out there, Bernard was launching a plan that would tear all this to pieces.
The two men turned to face each other. Ian bent out to look at the drop below, “I’ve got about two minutes of guaranteed powers left. I can get us to the ground, but that’s probably going to be it.”
Dwight nodded in agreement, “That should be all we need. If you get us down, I can do the rest.”
In his t-shirt and jeans, there really wasn’t a convenient place for Ian to hold him. The two settled on Ian hooking Dwight under his arms. It looked silly, but they had limited time and fewer options for the smaller man to carry his roommate to the street.
They both stepped out simultaneously, Ian just a few inches behind Dwight. Gravity caught him for only a moment before Ian’s strength countered it. The two men drifted rapidly down through the pelting rain and wind like the world’s most awkward hang-glider. It was hardly the controlled flight he was used to from Linda, but it got the job done. They swayed in the intense gusts as they plummeted away from the building. By the time they reached the road, they were two blocks from the tower. Dwight hit the ground running, Ian shortly behind. His suite of powers included flight and increased strength, but he hadn’t received any type of speed boost and fell behind quickly.
As he hit the corner of the next intersection, Dwight looked back to see Ian weakly stumbling and desperately trying to keep pace. The serum had worn off, and his body was crashing hard. When he finally caught up, he looked as if he was about to pass out. Even in the storm, Dwight could tell he was sweating, pale. His eyes were glazed over and his breath strained.
Dwight grabbed hold of Ian just as he began to collapse. Holding him upright, his friend’s body went completely limp. Ian would need the Doc’s help if he was going to get through this. Checking the traffic passing in the road before them, he spotted a yellow cab with its vacant sign lit. He waved madly with his ruined arm, trying to flag the driver down.
To his surprise, he succeeded. Maybe it was the amputee with the hysteric look on his face, maybe it was the unconscious Cape he was holding – but whatever the cause, the driver pulled over and stopped just ahead of them. Dwight dragged Ian to the stopped vehicle. He opened the door with his good arm while holding the suffering man against his side.
As Dwight slid Ian into the car, his roommate used his last bit of remaining strength to unclip the pack from his belt and hand it to Dwight. He quickly unzipped the bag, hoping that it was some kind of medication the Doc had included to help with the aftereffects of the drug. Instead, a shiny metal forearm rested in the cloth container.
He removed it as Ian went limp on the seat, completely unconscious. Dwight looked to the driver, who had been watching the entire time. The woman’s patience was clearly being tested as she waited for her fare to get in the car.
“You’re going to take him to Warehouse 83 at the Naval Street Docks,” he said. “Knock on any door when you get there and wave at the cameras. Someone will come out to get him. She’ll pay triple your normal rate.”
He didn’t know if the Doc would agree to the cost or to Ian’s care, but he was going to make this right. Ian had risked life and limb to break him out, and Dwight wasn’t going to see him die for it. Like so many other things, he’d have to owe her.
The cab took off into the storm, heading for the pier. Finding cover in the overhang of a nearby apartment building, Dwight examined the limb Ellis had sent him. It looked similar to his previous arm, but there were obvious improvements. First, the plates on the knuckles looked a hell of a lot meaner. Where the previous ones had ended in flat ridges, these were studded in nasty-looking points. He imagined Ellis made this change to get some well-deserved payback on Bernard. Next, he checked in the arm’s hidden compartment. Tucked inside, he found what looked like a garage door opener, a spare battery, and a note.
He instantly recognized the Doc’s unusually neat handwriting: “Dwight, this is what you’ll need to disable the limiter. You’ll need to be within three feet for the signal to send properly. It will take a minute to transmit the code.”
Great, he thought; having to be so close for that long in Bernard’s presence would be next to impossible. He’d need to deal with him first, assuming Bernard didn’t just use Lia’s powers to stop his heart. He’d figure it out once he was inside the building; for now, getting across the city in one piece was the task at hand.
He connected the new limb to its socket and took off jogging into the night. The streets were clear; it seemed that the storm had finally driven the last of downtown New Haven’s traffic into cover. He’d need to go back to his original plan and take the subway directly to StarPoint.
As he neared the closest station, roughly six blocks from the Guild’s facility, the first signs of pursuit showed themselves. There were three of them: his captors from before – minus the twins, who were recovering from their burns. Ar-Marie, Linda, and Abra had him surrounded as they dropped out of the sky in tight formation, each a few feet away. The subway entrance, now blocked, lay just ahead.
Linda stepped directly in his path, “Stop right there! You’re going back, Referee!” she shouted, her tone furious. Her calm professionalism was gone; she was taking this personally.
“Afraid I can’t do that, Lock Heart. I have a war to stop.” Dwight was just as serious. He was careless before, but he wasn’t going to make another mistake. If he had to take down each and every one of them, he was getting to StarPoint. He was going to kill Bernard. He was going to save Lia.
She took a step toward him, assuming he
r fighting stance, “This is your last warning. Do not make me hurt you.”
Ar-Marie powered up her weapons, “No. Go ahead, really. I’d like to show you what my suit can do.” Her speakers blared the pop music she was listening to along with her voice.
An explosion down the street cut their posturing short. Beyond the subway entrance, a mob paced menacingly toward them, their shadows cast against the flames of the destroyed car. Dwight recognized the collected costumes of Wulf’s lackeys. He was too late; Bernard’s war had begun.
Linda’s team – what was left of it – looked toward the mass advancing on them, bracing themselves. She tapped the wrist communicator and held it to her mouth, “We need backup. Send…everyone.” She turned to Dwight, a look of panic and regret in her eyes, “I’m so sorry. You need to leave – now.”
Dwight felt helpless while Linda and her team leapt to intercept the tide of chaos descending on them. As he watched, dozens of Capes swooped in from the skies, colliding with the horde until the entire street fell apart. Beams of energy, flame, jagged ice, and all forms of carnage erupted from the brawl as he took off running for the cover of the subway station. Shattered glass rained down as the crowd broke in all directions and crashed into the nearby buildings. The combatants scattered into their own private fights, the madness spreading out to engulf all of downtown.
This was exactly what Wulf had been trying to prevent. Dwight ran through the station to the first train he could find heading toward StarPoint. Luckily for him, the black line was waiting at the platform as he arrived. Dwight sprinted to the front of the car to find the driver silently listening to the commotion above. Over the radio, terrified police dispatchers cried for help. The heroes they had come to rely on weren’t responding; the powerless were alone.
