The Negative Man_Twilight Days

by Jeremy Croston

  There was a soft knock on the door. Looking out the peephole, I could see it was Rich. “What do you want?” I asked softly as I let him in.

  “Just making sure you’re okay. We didn’t pull you out of the fire for you to off yourself.”

  It was hard to tell if he was being serious or sarcastic. “I didn’t ask to be brought back into the world.”

  Rich walked further into the room and turned off the television. “I’m afraid it’s my fault that these people even knew you were still alive.”

  The story he proceeded to tell me was one that even I had a hard time believing. It started when the president asked them to break into Dungeon Bay Research Facility and ended six years later when an algorithm Wade copied off of a secret program pinged my location. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “My question is, why did you use your powers all these years later?” Rich asked.

  Honestly, it had been out of boredom. A drone was flying too close to my nice little hidden spot and I blew it out of the sky. “I was reckless,” was all I said.

  There was another knock on the door. It was the rest of the team and they all piled into the room. Wade, being a bit of a weirdo, didn’t even ease into his information. “We have maybe five hours, tops. The feds will soon pick up our trail.”

  “Ahh Wade,” Andy broke in. He slugged him in the arm. “We’ll be fine. Quit getting everyone riled up.”

  There was only one person I wanted to talk to. “Erin,” I grabbed him by the shoulder and the two of us left the crowded room. “What the hell are you involved with?”

  “Dude, we didn’t have much of a choice. Davy Whisnant came to us.”

  I knew the president a long time ago, back when he was just a flunky general who misplaced a bomb. That still didn’t give me a warm feeling. “If the president was the one who you guys were helping, why are feds on our tail?”

  He shook his head, disappointed. “There’s been so much happening, bro.” Erin reached into his jacket and pulled out a pair of gas station sunglasses. I liked them; just a plain black frame. “I figured you’d need these.”

  The relief of the dark lenses was felt immediately as it was getting brighter outside. “Rich doesn’t think I can handle the bad news. I guess being a hermit gives people the impression I’m mentally unstable.”

  “Dude, he has a point.”

  “Shut up, Erin.” I knew he was giving me a hard time as he laughed. “Seriously, just what the hell is going on that you felt the need to pull me out of hiding?”

  Erin’s explanation was much deeper than Rich’s. The feds were on to us because of Wade’s hacking. The moment he discovered my location, he started doing his cyber detective nonsense. One thing led to another and the feds were all over my location. And the reason they were on the lookout for me?

  “There’s this project called Twilight Days. My old friend Davy told me we were being hired so it could be properly taken care of. We were lied to,” Erin admitted.

  I’d never heard of this project before. “What’s Twilight Days?”

  “The end of all supers, dude.” He looked around to make sure we were alone. “The genocide has started and whatever was in that suitcase we stole for Whisnant, he’s using it to wipe out powered people.”

  Not that I really needed to see any of this for myself, but Erin was thorough. He pulled out his phone and popped on to one of those national news websites. Two days earlier, there was a story complete with a video of a group of supers left for dead. As I watched the police footage of the crime scene, emotions began to stir. Even though I’d done a lot to dehumanize myself, apparently I’d failed.

  I closed the video and handed him back the phone. “Before we declare war on our own government, how do you know Whisant is behind this?”

  “Are you serious?” Erin’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “After all the years they experimented on you, held you in secret facilities, you’re going to question this?”

  The old Jericho, before everything that happened, that guy would’ve gone in guns blazing. This Jericho, the guy with one arm and a hole in his heart that still bled, he needed more. I was tired. I just didn’t care that much anymore. Well, I cared some, given my reaction to the dead supers. Was it enough to get involved?

  Two big hands gripped me. “We’re not going to let more people die. I need you, man.” His face dropped, almost in shame. “Truth is, I really don’t want to do this, either. I’m scared out of my mind.”

  I didn’t expect that admission. “What are you afraid of?”

  “Danielle and the kids—even though they think I’m dead, which is the way it has to be—what if the people involved target them once they realize who I am?”

  Damnit, I’d long forgotten about Erin’s family. “So then don’t get involved. We can fade away again, just like I did before.”

  “No.” Erin turned his back to me. “Even though I’m scared, knowing I can save lives is something I can’t turn away from. I’m surprised,” he added. “I thought you’d be all over the chance to right the wrong done to you, bro.”

  The door opened, and Rich and the gang walked out. “Jericho, we can’t do this alone,” Rich said.

  “They’re right, mate.”

  Wade was still buried in the tablet he’d been carrying. He handed it to me. “That’s their manifesto. The prototype we stole was tech based on your power. Do you want your final legacy to be tied to mass murder?”

  Under the normal government rabble-rousing was a suit that harnessed the power of negative energy. All the notes that had ever been taken on me from my days with Dr. Cooper and Dr. Staley to more recent observations from some guy named Presley, the prototype’s science added up. Anger sizzled just under the surface and I shoved the device back to Wade before I destroyed it.

  “Jericho, I’m going to be honest,” Rich opened with. “The situation is fluid and there’s a lot of unknowns. The more Wade digs up, the surer we are that our president is trying to fulfil Ronald Victory’s original end game—wipe out powered people.”

  Wade swiped left and held up another schematic for me to see. “I know you’ll see it.”

  I sure did. They were having the same issues I had when I developed my new suit. They weren’t able to harness the energy properly. This suit could only handle things in short, timed attacks. There was no way anyone operating this thing could keep up a prolonged assault.

  “They’re going to be coming for you, Jericho. Wilson says you’re the only person with the knowledge and skill to fix that glitch,” Wade indicated.

  “Your kid’s right, Wade.” With all the evidence in my face, there was only one choice left. “Okay, I’m in.”

  The faint sound of sirens began to interrupt the peaceful morning air. “That’s about as perfect as timing gets,” Rich chuckled, as we all headed towards the van. “So much for your approximation that we had five hours, Wade.”

  The man known as Clickbait just shrugged. “I forgot to mention I calculated that a few hours prior.”

  Chapter 2-

  Sunday Night; Eastside Diner

  The city we were holed up in for the time being was Harbor Towne. Apparently, this was where rich ex-cons went to live once their days of hacking, breaking into, and stealing government items ended. The plan was to go back to Rich’s house for the night, as it had been purchased and titled under the name Samuel Colon. In fact, they all had bought places under ridiculous aliases. Erin’s was the worst—Ned Simpson.

  Before we went back, we stopped into Andy’s favorite place to grab a bite, the Eastside Diner. Once the waitress took our orders for coffee and sandwiches, the rest of the group seemed to settle in and relax. Not me. I was on high alert. Everyone around us could’ve been a Fed, any of them packing heat and ready to start firing the place up. I chalked up my paranoia to a lifetime of living on the wrong side of the law and years of isolation.

  Rich and Wade were in deep conversation while Andy and Erin were arguing about whic
h sandwich was better, a BLT or a Reuben. For them, life was still normal if not a bit adventurous. To me, the world was a depressing pile of shit I wanted nothing to do with. My reasons for caring and wanting to live amongst the population died when Heather was taken from me by a mad man.

  When the plates arrived, everything smelled funny. This was fresh, prepared food. I’d been used to eating whatever small animal got too close to my place for its own good. Who knew one could develop a taste for rattlesnake, or even cacti when I wanted a fruit or vegetable. Hell, I didn’t even know what cactus was classified as.

  I was only one bite into my turkey on rye when something that justified my senses began to unfold. Two men walked into the diner; one was wearing an all black jumpsuit and the other was decked out in online purchased tactical gear. You didn’t need a trained eye to see this wasn’t the real deal sort of stuff, just knockoffs.

  Jumpsuit walked into the middle of the diner and began to yell. “Fine people of Harbor Towne,” he announced. “It’s time to pay up with cash and valuables to the Ransom Brothers!”

  Wade leaned in. “I heard of these two,” he whispered. “Two powered brothers that pull off very public robberies.”

  I just sat there and watched intently. That’s when I noticed the dorks went to the trouble of stitching their names on their respective outfits: Peter and Paul. Even though I had no idea what their powers were, any sort of fear I may have had for them went out the door the moment I learned their names. There is power in names, after all. Knowing who your opponent is makes them more human. That’s all these two lowlifes were; human.

  “Jericho, what’re you doing?” Erin asked as I stood up.

  “Taking out the trash,” I growled.

  Making my way into the aisle, the brothers finally took notice of me. Peter started. “Ahhh, old man, I like the spirit! Come and pay your respects to us with your money and watch.”

  Ha, my watch. It reminded me on the time a certain backstabbing super named Hammerspace had the balls to rob me. “I don’t think so,” I replied.

  The smiles faded off Peter’s and Paul’s faces. Paul pushed his brother to the side and walked right up to me. “Listen here, stumpy,” he said as he grabbed my arm without a hand. “You have two choices, comply or die.”

  “Get your hand off of me.”

  “And if I don’t?” he asked.

  I released a healthy dose of Stormfall-infused energy into him. Without a suit to control the flow of it, some of my energy jumped off of me and shattered the lights in the restaurant. The patrons were terrified, but not a soul moved. They were all too fascinated or frightened by the display. You could see it in their eyes; they wanted to know more about the man who brutally and easily killed the one threatening them.

  Paul, who took the brunt of it, fell to the ground dead. His brother, Peter, stood there looking very confused. “H-how did you do that?” he asked timidly.

  I didn’t just address the stammering idiot in front of me. No, if I was being brought back into the world, it was going to be on my terms. “My name’s not important, but if you have to call me something, use my old call sign—The Negative Man.”

  A hushed rumble swept through the diner. The Negative Man, it was an urban legend at this point. I was smart enough to realize that to these folks, just ten minutes prior, I’d died in a very public, very dramatic way. So, for them, to hear a man make that declaration, they were frantic.

  Smart phones were being pulled out left and right. As I hoped, people wouldn’t be able to help themselves and post this for the world to see. I may have been out of the game a long time, but humans never change their stripes.

  There was just one last thing to do. “What’s your power, Peter?”

  “This.” He opened his mouth and gasped. A force slammed into me and sent me through the far wall of the diner and back out into the night. My skills were a bit rusty, but fortunately I had time to throw up my energy shield. That didn’t mean I wasn’t in a lot of pain. I was.

  Peter would never know that, though. I brushed myself off and walked right back in like I wasn’t bothered in the least. “I was hoping for something a little better, to be honest.”

  He didn’t even have time to react to my blast to his chest. The negative energy ripped the black jumpsuit apart as the electricity fried him from the inside out. With a smoking, gaping hole in his chest, Peter joined his brother on the floor, dead.

  “Bro, we need to go.” It was Erin. “The cops are on their way, along with the feds according to Wade’s intel.”

  “Let them come,” was all I could muster. I was still on the natural high of taking out the trash.

  That’s when everyone in the place got to their feet and started clapping. The folks in the Eastside Diner actually approved of my vigilante justice. Maybe this was what John Wonderton lived for all those years ago.

  The van pulled up outside the hole my body made when Peter attacked me. Rich had the window rolled down and yelled out to us. “Quit dicking around and get in the damn van!”

  The sirens were getting louder. And as much as I wanted to continue my reign of terror and chaos, maybe it wasn’t the right time. I gave one last look to the two idiots who tried to bully me and joined the rest of the team in the van. Andy hit the accelerator the moment everyone was in and we went flying down the street.

  “We’re not in the clear, yet.” Wade broke the quiet.

  On his computer screen in the back, he had the city’s traffic cameras up on display. Not far behind us was a SWAT vehicle with the telltale sign of two black SUV’s. My display, as I figured, hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  Rich turned around. You could tell he was trying not to laugh. “You’re such an asshole, Jericho.”

  “No one befriends me for my couth and pleasant demeanor.”

  All he could do was shake his head and go back to focusing on the road, trying to advise Andy where to go. “Wade, we need something,” Rich pleaded to the computer guy.

  Just as he said that, the red lights of a police cruiser appeared in the rearview mirror. They’d caught up. “Open the door,” I told Erin.

  “Dude, what’re you going to do?”

  I cracked my knuckles. “I’m going to buy us some time.”

  Erin swung the door open and I held on to the handicap bar that someone once installed in the van with my good hand. I didn’t know if my bad arm would still conduct my powers like it had once before, but there was only one way to find out. I felt the Stormfall flow through me as I guided it towards the street lamps high above the road. The bulbs cracked and blue lightning shot out of them as we continued to pass. Sparks and forking bursts of power flew from them and to the road below. The cop car’s driver slammed on the brakes, breaking off their pursuit.

  Erin pulled me back in and shut the door. “There you go, Wade. Get us out of here,” I said.

  “Andy, up here to the left is an alley that leads to the backside of the docks.”

  Rich nodded with Wade’s suggestion. “Once we get there, we can steal a boat and slip away on the ocean.”

  The sirens were still blazing all around us, however none showed up to the docks. We ditched the van and made our way down to where all the boats were moored. We bypassed the first and second set of slips, going for the third one. It was in the middle and the lighting wasn’t nearly as good as the slips around us. About halfway down the boat dock, we found the perfect craft.

  “The FV Harbinger… I like it,” I said as I touched the hull of the boat. “Nothing would be better to ride into Pacific Station in.”

  Rich looked a bit shocked. “Why are you going back to Pacific Station? How does that help us with what Wade’s discovered?”

  They didn’t understand yet, but they would. “What better place to go than to the city where we have allies and know where to find resources?” My answer actually made sense to him. “Besides, if we’re going to do this, then I need to enlist the help of one more person.”

  “Who?” E
rin asked.

  “Kyle Wonderton.”

  Chapter 3 –

  Tuesday Night; Pacific Station Harbor

  I was home. Pacific Station had been my adopted home for as long as I could remember now. This was the city where The Negative Man had been born. I’d risen to power and fallen from grace, here. It was only right to return to settle things once and for all. Victory’s legacy would be ended, even if that meant killing the President of the United States. Anything associated with Ronald Victory was a disgrace in my eyes.

  I’d watched us arrive from the top deck. With Erin tying us up to the dock, it was time to take my first steps back into my city. As soon as my foot touched the wood, I felt like I was complete. This city had given me so much, including Heather. To never set foot back here would have been my own travesty. I was glad I corrected that.

  “What’s the plan? Where do we find Kyle Wonderton?”

  I pointed up, at the dock’s security cameras. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s found us. All we have to do is be patient.”

  Rich stepped off, right behind me. “I don’t like this. This doesn’t feel right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Look around,” he said, sweeping his arm in a complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree motion. “We’re completely in the open. That Wonderton kid may not be the only person who knows we’re here.”

  I laughed. Old Rich, I hoped you never changed. “Who else would be looking for us?” No one answered. “We’re ghosts, memories that no one here even cares to remember. We’ll be fine.”

  I should’ve known better than to say we’d be fine. Immediately after the words left my mouth, a black SUV pulled up and stopped, barricading us from getting off the pier. Who was this? More importantly, did they know whom they were impeding upon?

  The driver’s side back door opened. A man stepped out, one whose identity was concealed with a mask. Not just any old mask mind you; a mask that looked like a smiling devil. The rest of his attire consisted of very expensive-looking clothes; the type of stuff you’d see at a red-carpet event. As he walked off the concrete and on to the dock, even his gait had a regal element to it.