by Ben Bequer
Epic grunted, and it was clear that the idea of Apogee and I together dumbfounded him more than a duplicate of me running around committing crimes. I always assumed they had a past, and based on the pure joy she took in my distaste for him, that it had ended poorly. She was about to say something when she noticed Alacrity.
“Well,” Apogee said, crossing her arms. “Look at what we have here.”
“I know, right,” Alacrity said, unfazed. “If you live long enough, you find out wishes do come true.”
“If getting curb-stomped twice in a decade is your wish, I’m happy to oblige.”
“She’s mine,” Alacrity told her team. “You understand me? That bitch is mine.”
Epic studied me, taking note of how ragged and beaten I looked.
“You ready for this?”
I nodded.
“Okay, then let’s do this.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Apogee was gone in a gust of wind.
That’s how it started.
Epic took a short step and leapt in the fray, Silverback drawing his swords with a snap of metal to meet him. I had no intention of diving into the midst of Haha’s team, but I felt naked without my gear. Superdynamic’s gift was still in one piece, but for that I would be naked. Even if my bow weren’t long gone, the quiver, along with all of my arrows, was destroyed. No onboard computer, no contacts, no tricks, no gadgets. I couldn’t even talk to Bubu.
I skirted the edges of the fight, looking for an opening. Epic faced off against Silverback who swung those huge blades in a mesmerizing pattern. Epic didn’t back down though, feigning one way then the other, and was rewarded with wide arcing swing that he nimbly evaded. Silverback took a step back, the move graceful despite his endless bulk and reset.
Apogee did the unexpected, zipping past Alacrity, who made a beeline for her vapor trail, and went for Bloodstrike, who disappeared in a storm of purple explosions. She was so fast; I lost her, tracking the fight only in relation to Bloodstrike’s spastic reaction as Apogee beat her down. Alacrity joined their dance, and watching them go at it was disconcerting to the point that it hurt my head. But I was lost in the idea of my girl fearlessly taking on two villains.
Snap out of it, I chided myself in Bubu’s voice. It was too easy to become a spectator. Stygian Black had done something similar to me, drawing back, but he had a very effective ranged power. It was common for supers with manipulation power sets to focus the power through gestures, but not this guy. He floated on his shadow nimbus arms crossed, every shadow in the room bent to his will. They danced along the walls and ground around him, bubbling to three dimensional life in the form of tentacles that tapered to jagged points, like a child’s drawing of a lightning bolt.
I heard an explosion and saw that Blackjack 2.0 was unloading on Epic, shooting explosive arrows into his back while Silverback got aggressive, using his reach to bat away Epic’s guard so he could attack with the main hand weapon. There was a deeper plan, as Epic, who like Apogee was fighting a battle on two fronts, wasn’t ready for Stygian Black. I didn’t know if those tentacles would flay or impale, and I didn’t wait to find out, digging a softball sized chunk of hard packed dirt out of the ground and slinging it at him. I was better with the bow, but my aim was good, and only a desperate swipe from one of his assorted shadow limbs deflected it.
He wasn’t as prepared for the other projectile I sent flying at him.
Me.
It would take more than a massive detonation at close range to knock the Asskickers out of commission. The thrust left something to be desired, but it was enough to surprise Stygian Black. I had both arms out, fists tight, intent on blowing him up, but the shadowed platform he stood on shot up like a spring, and he jumped with it, climbing about ten feet in the air. I adjusted my attitude to meet him as another shadow platform formed from nothing under his feet. I climbed towards him, putting as much juice as I could into the throttle when the first tentacle struck me.
The point drove hard into my side, and for the first time in the long winding battle through Castle Black, Superdynamic’s blue suit split. The tentacle was freezing cold, numbing the flesh it touched as it dug between my ribs. My tough hide didn’t give, though the force of the blow was enough to knock me off course. I climbed higher trying to lose it, but it followed me like an eel darting after its prey.
My flight had brought me into the nest of tentacles and they swarmed me. I accelerated towards Stygian Black on his platform, but he wielded his power with cold efficiency. The sharp probing stopped, instead wrapping around my legs. They weren’t strong enough to hurt me, but easily pushed my legs apart, splitting my thrust, throwing my whole flight askew. I spun hard, my binds twisting, the torque of the noose wrapped around my legs tightening to the point where the boot’s metal bent.
More of them shot out at me, and I grabbed one, my hand going numb, but I fought through it, crushing the tentacle in my paw. It compressed, only to bleed through the infinitesimal gaps between my clenched fingers, forming a glove around it. I pulled hard and found it stretched under my strength, but I was still restrained. Another slipped the tear in my suit, wrapping around my waist like a belt, while another still caught me around the shoulder.
Stygian Black was mere feet from me by the time my momentum stalled, but I was completely ensnared. Every inch of skin the tentacles came into contact with was numb, and I felt the fresh pain of frost burn emerge. I struggled against them and he laughed, “Poor little meat. Did you really think you were just going to fly over here and hit me?”
“I really did,” I said. “I still do.”
“Unlikely,” he said, and the tentacles did their best to quarter me, pulling each limb in a separate direction. I could have struggled against them, but that would be giving away too much. I went limp, allowing the tentacles to pull me, feigning pain with a groan intent on feeding his sadism.
His voice was reedy, almost childlike, as if he were eternally trapped in adolescence, and his laugh was a high pitched thing that drilled into my ear, piercing my brain. I tested the give on the tentacles and found I could move, but I was still restrained. I had to draw him in. Still groaning, I let out a scream, and he matched his laugh to its volume. My upper lip curled and he seemed to find that equally hilarious as the tentacles pulled at my limbs. I felt my muscles stretch at odd and uneven angles, and understood that leverage was on his side.
“You know why nobody attacked you out of the gate,” he said, his throaty laugh subsuming to giggles as he spoke. “Because he told us you were the weak one. He knew Epic wasn’t going to let us kill you, and Apogee, well, we know all about you two. ‘Take care of them,’ he said, ‘And Blackjack will fold. It’s what he does.’”
I let him talk, reminded again, that this was sometimes part of the game, the ebb and flow of these kinds of confrontations. I didn’t know what he was expecting, but I doubt it was the wad of spit I hacked at him. It hit him just above the right eye with a splat that dripped down over the eyebrow and into the eye. He screamed in rage, the tentacles ripping upwards, gunshot pops exploding up and down my body as joints strained against the pressure. It was my turn to laugh, the pain turning it to a kind of half groaning chuckle.
“This is funny to you,” he said, cleaning his face with a vicious swipe of the hand. “Let me show you what I think is funny.” I was within reach of him, but unable to move. Any slack I had was gone as another tentacle shot from his platform straight at my face. I turned from it, straining against my bonds, but the tentacle followed me with ease, and when I realized what Stygian Black intended, I clamped my mouth shut.
He clucked his tongue in admonishment. “He told us you were smart. You obviously don’t know how your own body works though.” And with that the tentacle forked into a pair of thick strands that shot up my nose. They worked up my sinuses with excruciating impetus and I renewed my struggle, all aims at subterfuge gone.
“And now, he understands,” Stygian Black said, as the tent
acles filled my pharynx, expanding into my throat. I gagged, the muscles in my throat trying in vain to expel the foreign body. My lungs burned at the lack of oxygen, and my mouth opened reflexively, the tentacle flowing out and drifting into view.
“You really thought I needed to punch through your hard candy shell to get to the sweet insides? Nope. Turns out I can take the road less traveled. I wonder what he’ll do with you after I’ve lobotomized you. Maybe he can rebuild you the way he does your doubles. He really wants you to agree with him. If he weren’t such a cold bastard, I would almost say he likes you. More than likes.”
My body was twitching from the conflicting stimuli, there was too much going on, and it was hard to concentrate, but I found my anger and desperation and used it. These people had killed in my name, over shit that didn’t matter to me. People murdered in my name, for nothing. I spent my time in Romania trying to keep this endeavor about business, but that time was over. Harnessing all of my rage, I lunged forward dragging my bonds with me.
Stygian Black flinched away, but it wasn’t enough, and I was able to wrap my arms around his waist. He screeched in my ear, his breath hot and wet as he beat against my shoulder. The tentacles slipped a little in his panic, and I took advantage flexing my arms and crushing him in my grip. The bastard was tough, and he sent the tentacles into frenzy, digging at my ears, and sending more for my eyes, which I closed tight. I bit down on the tentacle in my mouth, the scream that wanted to tear from my lungs stifled.
His spine separated in a wet crunch that I felt against my chest, and reverberated through his torso as the ribs ground to shards in my grip. His screams became a choked gargle as his heart ruptured, gouts of blood splashing on my shoulder, and then we were falling. The tentacles were gone, as if they had never existed, but my stomach was pressing against my diaphragm as the ground sped at me.
Togging the throttle in my boot, I stopped my descent, and took a deep breath. My gag reflex was still working overtime, and I took a minute to steady my breathing. Stygian Black was a loose sack of ruined bone and tissue in my grip. I hovered a second, shifting the corpse, making sure he was in fact dead. His face was a pale canvass dripping in blood, and as he hung in my grip, there was an unnatural angle to his hips and they swayed independently of the torso as I drifted mid-air.
I hadn’t realized how draining the cold had been until I felt the warmth flow through my body. It was like my soul clicked back into place. The exposed skin along my arms and legs were lined with ugly purple bruises and the inside of my mouth was dry cotton. I let Stygian Black fall to the ground below and surveyed the battle.
Epic was still fighting it out with Silverback and my doppelganger, though he looked no worse for wear. Both of Silverback’s swords lay broken in the low grass of the marsh, but the giant gorilla was swinging impossibly long haymakers, his length an advantage he knew how to exploit. My doppelganger was expending his arsenal, trying to find an arrow that would work, to no avail.
I lined up to swoop in on Blackjack 2.0, drill him straight through the mountain and into oblivion, when I saw Bloodstrike lash out with a bolt of red energy. It seemed to hit empty air, until Apogee blipped out of nothing, her speed making her almost invisible. Alacrity was on in her in a second, hammering Apogee so furiously, her fists almost disappeared.
Snarling under my breath, I altered course and charged right at her. She was so caught up with Apogee she didn’t see me until the last moment. I never stood a chance. She was there, and then she wasn’t. Apogee was a second slower on the uptake, but by the time she saw me careening towards her, I thrown my legs out, changed course again and pitched into Bloodstrike who had been watching Alacrity work.
Given how slight Bloodstrike was, I expected to split her in two. I wasn’t ready for her to absorb my momentum as we both went to the ground. She was like a spring, tough and malleable, using my momentary shift in position to scramble atop me. Turning onto my back, I threw a jab that caught her in the chin, her head rocking low, blood splashing onto my hand. Her legs cinched tight around my waste and when she looked down on me, there was nothing human behind those dead brown eyes.
“Dale, no,” I heard Apogee say from the ground.
I threw another punch, but she juked it, and caught my arm in an iron grip. Dark crimson energy flared around her and I felt her drain me. She took a long drink, and though it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t a good feeling. Back ramrod straight, head arched back, Bloodstrike let out a groan of pleasure as the effect ended. Her eyes slinked across my body, a humorless, terrifying grin spread across her face, hunger oozing from her pores.
“You will feed me forever,” her words clipped off as a flash of purple energy exploded against her head, slinging her off me and into the wall.
Apogee effortlessly yanked me to my feet. “Stay away from her, Dale. She’s mine,” she said, and was gone before I could respond. Bloodstrike rose from the heap of limbs she had ended up in, and was swallowed by Apogee’s speed, gone from sight.
I turned back towards my doppelganger when a gale of wind buffeted me, and the first punch hit. It wasn’t a sting, per se, more like an urgent poke jabbing near my kidneys. What followed it was a fusillade that raked up and down my torso. Alacrity buzzed around me, her speed rendering her into an ephemeral force that rejected my brain’s attempts to follow. I swung my arms in wide arcing parabolas, fishing for a miracle. It didn’t materialize and her offensive quickened to a driving rhythm.
I lost count of the individual strikes, the aggregate effect of the punishment blending into something akin to muscle strain over my entire torso. My arms drew inward against my will, trying in vain to defend against the onslaught. She couldn’t fly, so I took to the sky, but I wasn’t a foot off the ground before I felt her feet pound my back as she ran over it, then jumped. I tasted free air, one deep breath, and she landed on my back, stomping me with rapid fire kicks, a tsunami crashing against me.
Convulsions tore through me and my obstinate legs refused to keep my flight path even. The thrust died in a sputter as my toes lost feeling, unable to keep the throttle activated, and I plunged back to earth like a dime flipped from a tall building. She jumped again, and I had a moment’s respite, just as the ground ended my descent in a small explosion of marshy water, rent earth, and shredded grass.
I was numb from neck to nuts, muscles twitching at random, like aftershocks. I got to my feet and saw her coming for another pass. Spreading my feet, I squared, trying to anticipate her next attack. I had gone against Apogee at full speed more than once and broke even, there was no way I was losing to her less talented copycat. A long furrow split the ground as she ran at me, and I was ready to grab her. Once I had hands on her, she was done.
I was patient, biding my time, prepared for the hit. She came into the Ring of Fire, and I sprung at her. A mocking chuckle floated in surround sound around my head as I hit the ground on all fours. I bounced to my feet in time to get hit. This time she aimed under my ribs, digging up into my lungs. Each strike was a thousand punches in the space of a second. Discarding technique and strategy, I started throwing haymakers, the exact ones Apogee and I laughed about in training, but if one of these caught Alacrity, there wouldn’t be enough of her left to scrape into a plastic baggie.
I wasn’t connecting. She was too close to miss, which meant she was evading my punches, her ripostes striking me unabated. I felt heat and moisture gathering around my nose and lips, my own breath leaking from my lungs as she reversed flow of oxygen into my body. My arms were tiring, my lungs were burning, and my legs wobbled, struggling to hold my weight. I sank to my knees, then onto my side, curling up in the fetal position, but she switched from punches to kicks. Her legs were exponentially more powerful than her arms, each kick a jackhammer at Mach 10.
The constant thrumming of Alacrity’s kicks slowed then stopped, and I saw her looking down on me. She hadn’t said a word, not made a sound as she dismantled me, and I admired her restraint. It took a true pro to not gloat
as they dominated you. I didn’t have that it in me. I thought she was going to speak, but she was concentrating. She was still moving at super speed, the outline of her body crackled with the occasional spark, as if her molecules were having trouble containing her shape.
I lashed out with a kick that struck her leg, but passed through without her noticing. I tried again, and she shook her head as if she had just caught me nicking from the cookie jar. She reached down for me with a hand that was moving so fast it was immaterial. I moved away from her, but she kept pace without seeming to actually move. At this speed, Alacrity was vibrating fast enough to be out of phase with the rest of reality. She wasn’t standing, she was hovering, as her hand touched my chest, it didn’t press the flesh but passed through, scrambling the molecules.
Blinding pain seared from the spot, but that was a fraction of the agony I felt when the hand disappeared inside my chest and penetrated my epidermis. Everything shut off as my internal organs were subjected to torment no human was meant to endure. I knew I was screaming, but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of my guts dissolving. Though Alacrity’s face showed no emotion, she was enjoying this. Killing me would hurt Apogee, two birds with one stone.
I tried to fight, but nothing was responding and blood started pooling in the back of my throat. I felt the ground beneath me vibrate, and at first I thought Alacrity had transected me, but no, I knew what that distant rumble was. The world vacillated, and I put what reserve I had left into escape. My legs scrabbled for purchase, and her eyes squinted through her mask of calm as I rolled away.
Time stopped for a moment when the purple streak that was Apogee struck Alacrity. The rules of deep space seemed to take over and the world ceased turning. Light burned my eyes, like staring straight into a solar flare. There was no sound in the corona, an untainted quiet that stretched for a long time. The Earth reasserted her laws with an audible snap, Alacrity’s last moments were a nuclear shadow scorched onto the back of my eyes.
