Heroes Without, Monsters Within

by Sheryl Nantus

  I also hoped to win the lottery. As far as I knew, supers didn’t have pension plans. We didn’t even have dental.

  The door opened a crack, sending a burst of cool air through my steam cloud.

  A male voice interrupted my thoughts. “Hey.”

  It was Hunter. He had an annoying habit of trying to share the bathroom with me. Not that I minded at times, since I’d done the same with Mike, and there was only one bathroom, but I didn’t want it to become a common habit for him or the rest of the crew. A girl needed some privacy, thank you very much.

  “First, don’t hog all the hot water. Second, David made up a fresh pot of tea, and Jessie’s busting out his mad skills to find this guy.”

  I pulled the shower curtain aside just enough to poke my head out. No free shows here. “Any progress?”

  “Not yet.” He hadn’t moved into the room yet, his voice carrying over the sound of the water. “Just wanted to give you an update.” A long pause, during which the temperature in the room dropped another ten degrees. “Good one with Outrager. You know the bastard’s watching our every move.”

  “And we’re watching theirs. Tell the kids I’ll be out in a minute so they can get cleaned up and get some shuteye.” I yanked on the curtain. The door clicked shut, leaving me alone again.

  A final swipe under the water and I stepped out, taking a few seconds to snap my blonde hair dry with a quick blast of energy. It wasn’t the best way to deal with wet hair, and I always got split ends, but it was fast and easy.

  Our connection to the government was through the Agency and their representative, Outrager. I knew he didn’t like being relegated to a secondary position, reporting to his former captives, but I also knew he didn’t want the Agency exposed for the horror that it was, kidnapping people when their superpowers manifested and forcing plugs on them along with emotional and physical abuse. So we danced around each other in a morbid mummers play, at least for now.

  Getting dressed in a worn old Huey Lewis and the News T-shirt and sweatpants only took another minute, and I exited the bathroom in a burst of steam and water vapor, looking like some sort of Venus rising up from the sea.

  Well, maybe in my mind.

  Peter lay on the workout bench, lifting weights with Stephen standing over him, ready to catch the barbell if it slipped. He’d come a long way in a few weeks, deciding that he had to be physically fit, trying to pack some muscle onto his slender frame. Sure, he could call on animals to lend their formidable skills at a moment’s notice, but now that our fights weren’t fixed there was a very real possibility of someone getting injured or killed. Losing May had drilled that into our heads louder than any speech I could have made. I watched as the young man struggled with the weights, puffing sharp breaths.

  “Slow and easy. Slow and easy,” Steve recited. His thick arms stood poised to grab the barbell. “Give me another three reps, and then we’ll get cleaned up.”

  Peter let out a nervous laugh. “How about two?”

  “Three.” The brotherly tone made me smile. For a supervillain, Steve was a pretty good tutor.

  I left the two alone and approached Jessie. He studied the bottom monitor, eyes glazed. The other five screens showed various news channels, computer programs running code in the background and flashing images of supers. I tried not to look at the last screen.

  “Do you have anything?”

  He jumped at my voice, almost falling off his chair. “Right now I’m linking up with geologists who have ideas on how to forecast future earthquakes. See if there’s anything there we can hook up with this guy.” Jessie rubbed his eyes with the palms of both hands. “I’m also using satellite imaging to see if he left any trail behind. Big, fat footprints, whatever. The file didn’t have much to offer in that area. They were more concerned in how to set up good fights than documenting the how and why of the powers, what they were all about and how he turned them on and off. There’s also a psych profile if you’re interested in seeing what’s making his mind tick. I put it to the side for you.” He tapped a thin file folder sitting to his left.

  “Great.” I patted his shoulder. “Go take a break. You’re going to go blind if you keep doing that. And thanks for the backup in Erie. You did a great job coordinating our ride there and back.”

  He grinned, accepting the saucy wink I threw his way. There’d been a time when I was his pinup girl. Now I was his boss, and I think he enjoyed it more than his fantasy. At times. I didn’t dare go near his locker for fear of what I’d see taped on the metal door.

  I walked away, hearing a loud yawn behind me. It was getting late, and we’d had one hell of a day. At least we’d done our best in Erie. That would help salve my conscience.

  David stuck his head out from the kitchenette. “Last call for tea, coffee and sandwiches before I go home. Speak now or make your own. And don’t leave dishes in the sink for me to do. I’m not your mother. Wash them or throw them in the garbage.”

  He and Jessie had remained adamant about keeping their own homes away from the Lair. I’d made a good argument for rabid fans and possible kidnappings, but they’d insisted that they keep some semblance of their old lives by going to and from the Lair as if it were just another day job. Me, I figured Jessie worked the angle for free drinks at bars, not to mention girls, and he needed some place to take them. David didn’t want to live in the same place he worked. I couldn’t blame him.

  “We’re fine,” I replied. “Thank you for all your help today.”

  “Bah.” He reached for his coat. “It was nothing. Putting together sandwiches and making sure you have a fridge full of food isn’t hard.” He studied my face for a long second. “And don’t you spend too much time kicking yourself about this rogue thing. That Agency man’s the devil incarnate, and he gets a thrill out of making you second-guess yourself.”

  Before I could answer, he bounded down the steps, as fast as one his age could bound. I wondered sometimes if he didn’t regret taking on the task of nursemaiding a bunch of supers. Initially it’d been just me, confused and lost after Mike’s death and the alien attacks. He’d taken me in, given me my old apartment and I’m sure if I had asked, my old job working the counter in the secondhand bookstore. Now he’d taken on an entire dysfunctional family. This was not what he had in mind when he quit teaching to enter semi-retirement years ago, I suspected.

  I settled on the sofa and picked up the television remote off the coffee table. Hunter glanced once at the pair over at the exercise area and bolted for the bathroom. Jessie snatched another can of cola from the mini-fridge strategically placed within arm’s reach. After draining it in a few gulps he added it to the already-full garbage can. He shook his head so hard I thought his eyes would fall out.

  “Go home, Jessie. You’re no good to me dead or sick from working too hard. Get some rest, and we’ll start up again in the morning.” I clicked around the dial, pausing at the all-news channels.

  The lead story about the quake ran every few minutes with images of us working with the rescue crews in Erie. I winced, seeing more coverage of the Protectors in action than the firefighters and military, the police and search-and-rescue teams pushed off to one side to show us off.

  One channel waxed poetic and decided to do a retro-historical piece, detailing how we got to where we were. Considering my team was all of a month old, it seemed a bit extreme.

  The screen filled with rotating still photos, all of them from the Agency’s publicity files. A shot of me in my old leather costume, just this side of BDSM. One of Metal Mike in his armor with me riding on his shoulder. Slammer in all of his supervillain glory, lifting a huge hunk of concrete over his head with a roar. Peter surrounded by a menagerie of animals, grinning.

  They left out May and Harris Limox. No one wanted to see a dead senior and a supervillain who’d gone underground.

  For Hunter, there was only the group photo when we’d announced our team. He’d never gone public when he was with the Agency, working both side
s as a super and a Guardian. As far as the public was concerned he was a sidekick instead of a super, riding our coattails and helping out with public relations.

  How little they knew. And I liked keeping it that way.

  Peter gave a final yelp and handed the weights off to Steve. The muscleman loaded them onto the racks with ease.

  “Good work,” he said to the slender young man. “You’re really improving.”

  “Well, that’s something.” Peter gave a thumbs-up sign as he got to his feet. He winced and put one hand on the small of his back.

  “You’re next in the shower, after Hunter,” I called out. “And don’t push it. I don’t need you on disability leave.”

  He waved me off with a grin and headed for the other side of the loft. I winced inside, thinking of the luxurious accommodations waiting for him. King-size mattresses on the floor and a few steamer trunks, bought and paid for by David, who insisted the men get some sort of private space.

  It made the local Boy Scout camp look like a swanky Vegas hotel suite.

  Nothing but the best for my boys.

  Jessie gave a loud sigh as he got up from the computer table. “I’m done. Don’t touch anything, let ’er run. Might have some hits come in, but I’ll look it over tomorrow.”

  “Cool. Thanks and good night.” I knew he had a remote connection set up at home so that if anything vital came through, he’d get immediate notification and act on it. I had no wish to even try to decipher the hieroglyphics sprinting across the multiple screens. One computer sat in the far corner for our personal use, orphaned from the network if anyone had the urge to play games or visit websites or Google himself. I hadn’t looked at the ’net since Mike died and still didn’t feel any need to.

  Jessie trotted down the stairs just as Hunter exited the bathroom. A cloud of steam followed him out, evidence he’d been enjoying the hot water as well.

  “Next,” he announced, a bright yellow towel wrapped around his waist. I averted my eyes as Hunter headed for the dorm area, pretending to give the guy some privacy. It was totally wasted as he paraded into my vision on purpose wearing a grin and a smirk, the ends of the towel flapping with encouragement as he gave me a come-hither look. I rolled my eyes and appeared bored while fondling the television remote.

  Peter waddled by in the opposite direction, a pile of clean clothing in his arms and a pained expression on his face. “Please tell me you left lots of hot water. That, or we need a massage therapist put on the payroll.”

  “Any chance I can watch the hockey game?” Steve fell onto the couch beside me, sending a tidal wave through the black leather. “Penguins are playing tonight.”

  “Sure.” I tossed him the remote. “Just don’t bring the walls down if they win. Or lose.”

  He chuckled. “No hair-raising yell, promise.”

  Suddenly the loft seemed too small, the closed quarters sucking the air out of my lungs. I got up from the couch. “I’m going to be on the roof, meditating. Call me if you need me.” Without waiting for a response, I headed back to the stairwell.

  The rooftop was quiet and dark, the only illumination coming from the shops below me along Queen Street West. A pizza place across the way advertised 2-for-1 slices, a comic book store with a neon Bat Signal beamed into the night and an all-night convenience store flashed OPEN. The black gravel still had long drag marks from my awful landing earlier.

  After smoothing out the skid marks I headed for the edge of the building. I sat down and crossed my legs in front of me, not in a painful-looking yoga pose but a casual sit. Meditation had been Mike’s bag, not mine. I’d done it with him to keep him happy, but it never really worked for me. The control over my power came from a constant awareness of my surroundings, not reciting mantras for a sense of inner peace. But it’d been part of what made Mike work and what made us work as a team. So I’d taken it back up, isolating myself on the roof at least once a day for a bit of introspection.

  I felt like I’d aged ten years since New York City. I’d never realized the weight on Mike’s shoulders until now, and I regretted every time I’d brawled with him over the little things, the minutiae that you only think about when someone’s gone. Wet towels in the shower, drinking out of the milk carton instead of using a glass, not changing the empty toilet paper roll. I was guilty of the first two, he the third.

  I closed my eyes and listened to the crowds below. It was likely I was in range of a half-dozen cameras, all snapping away images of the great Surf doing her thing. I didn’t care.

  A young girl’s laugh drifted up to me, along with the smell of fresh pizza, mixed in with the aroma of the BBQ joint farther down the street. I made a mental note to order in their ribs in the next few days, make it a double order or maybe a triple with Steve around. The sauce was spicy and sweet enough to add to the taste, not to drown it.

  “Hey.” Someone slid down into the gravel beside me. Hunter.

  “You better be wearing more than that towel,” I growled. My eyes stayed closed.

  “Afraid of what the tabloids would say?”

  “Afraid of what they’d see. Need a microscope to find anything.” I reached out and tapped him in the side of the head without looking. “I’m busy.”

  “So I see.” He sat in silence beside me for a few minutes. I heard him shuffle into a cross-legged position, giving off a pained gasp as he curled his legs around.

  Inhale, exhale. Find your happy place and balance it. I felt the shimmering around me shift and resolve into an ordered pattern. I stretched out my power and touched the waves around us, pulling it into my bare hands. It was like building a tower with bricks and playing the harp at the same time.

  “You’re not responsible for what other supers do,” Hunter whispered.

  “I know.”

  “We’re going to find this guy.”

  “I know.”

  “We’re all behind you, whatever you decide to do.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m bothering you.”

  “I know.”

  “Okay. I surrender.” He got to his feet, laughing as he unfolded himself. “I’ll be downstairs if you want to talk.”

  I let my breath out slowly, drew in another lungful and pulled it to my center. The door slammed shut. That’d be a shot for the tabloids to exploit. I knew they weren’t monitoring our chat. Jessie had set up scramblers for that, electronic toys to keep them from reading our lips. I didn’t know how, but I trusted him that they worked.

  My inner peace disappeared with a salami-based burp.

  There was still Hunter to deal with. I hadn’t taken our relationship past the kissy-kissy stage, and I could tell he was getting annoyed and impatient. When I’d discovered he was not only a Guardian but also a super, a wall had shot up between us and stayed in effect, despite May’s deathbed instructions placing us in each other’s hands, sealing our bond not only as a super and a Guardian but also as a couple. He hadn’t been honest about his abilities almost until the very end and that could have cost us the final battle, all because he didn’t want to expose May to possible death. In the end she’d died, but it’d been her decision, not the Agency and not Hunter’s.

  Mike’s ghost also hovered over us. I hadn’t been in love with the big lug, our relationship nothing more than one of convenience and needs, but I still missed him. He’d been my strength for years, my one constant in a world of fakes. We may have been false superheroes, but we’d been true friends. I believed he’d want me to move onwards and upwards in more than just saving the world, but this was a whole new world I’d created. Now I had to find a place for Mike’s memory, Hunter and my own spot as a leader.

  I shivered in the cool night air, remembering the last few minutes Mike and I had been together. There had been nothing of him to recover after the battle, nothing to bury. The crater still sat in the middle of a New York City street, barricaded off as the rest of the city rebuilt around it. Around him.

  A scream broke through the crowd�
�s mumbling beneath me in one of the narrow alleys that ran in a jagged maze behind the storefronts.

  Before I had a chance to gather my thoughts I was on my feet, running over the roof towards the back of the Lair. The alley was dark, cut off from any street illumination. I’d avoided it when I’d worked here, doing all my traveling via the front door. The old cobblestone lanes were a perfect spot for muggers, rapists and drug dealers.

  Until now.

  I stepped off into the night, playing the waves around me in a light crescendo as I fell towards the ground.

  Chapter Three

  The two youthful thugs couldn’t have been more than thirty years old if you combined both their ages. The elderly woman flattened herself against the wall with her wooden cane in one hand and her large bulky purse in the other. Classic comic-book scenario.

  The first kid, wearing a black hoodie and jeans, glared at me. Guess he was used to women dropping in out of the blue.

  “Get out of here, bitch,” he spat.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Your momma lets you out of the house with that mouth?”

  Their intended victim skittered along the wall, ending up behind me. Her raspy breathing rose above the nearby street chatter, her panicked gasps threatening to overwhelm her if the thugs didn’t.

  “Boys, I think you better run along.” I waved them away. “No fun here tonight. Get while the getting’s good and I’m still in a good mood. Go take some candy from a baby or something.”

  The second punk came fully out of the shadows, waving a machete.

  Whoops. Hadn’t seen that on my way down.

  I eyeballed the huge blade, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. “Really? Aren’t we overcompensating just a bit?”

  “Get the fuck out of our way,” he snarled. “All we want is the purse.”

  “Oh well then, since you asked so nicely.” I peeked behind me at the shivering woman. “Do you want to give them your purse?”