by Tom Andry
I bent a single match around the base of the pack, but didn't detach it. I closed the flap on top of it, holding it against the rough striking surface. I flicked the match with my finger, igniting it.
"Oooh...very Level 5," Nissa clapped.
"Shut up. I majored in bar tricks."
"Hope you didn't pay too much for that degree. Did they at least teach you a few pickup lines?"
"Hey, you should see me at beer pong."
"Beer pong? Is that your pickup line?"
"Ah, grasshopper, you have much to learn."
"You're a strange man, Bob."
I bent the match back toward its brethren. As the remainder of the pack ignited, I threw it at the rum-soaked Flamer.
"I prefer to think of myself as 'unique'."
The prone form of the super lit up like a bonfire in an orchard at Christmas. Nissa and I stepped back from the heat. If only I had some marshmallows.
# # #
Chapter 10
When I tell this story, I'm going to leave out the part where all of Flamer's clothes burned away, leaving him in all his naked glory. Naked and hairless. Well, mostly. The hair on his head was still intact. Ugh. I can't say I've seen all that many supers' penises in person (half of what I've seen under spandex I've assumed was sock), but if Shawn O'Malley is representative, I now had a new reason to hate supers.
Nissa couldn't keep her eyes off the thing.
"It's like a tail. Except on the wrong side," she whispered to me.
"Yeah, well," I turned away, trying to ignore Nissa's wide eyes, "whatever." I grabbed the metal case out of the back of the car and threw it toward Flamer, trying hard not to look directly at him. "Here you go, Shawn."
Shawn stood, erect (fortunately, in only one sense of the word), "Bob? What's going on?" All slurring was gone from his voice.
I was right about one thing: setting him on fire activated his powers and sobered him up. "We've got an appointment; don't you remember? City to save and all?"
The case I threw toward O'Malley clicked open as he responded, "Right, right. And who is this?"
Nissa extended her hand, "Nissa. Nissa Gignac. Bob's assistant."
I grabbed Nissa's shoulder and turned her away from the naked super, "Give the man a little privacy," I hissed.
"What, he doesn't seem to mind," she strained against my hand to look over her shoulder. "Plus, did you see that thing?"
"Yeah, yeah, tail. I got it."
"But..."
"Nissa! Sorry for anything I may have said or done." Flamer put his huge hand on her shoulder, his voice unnaturally formal. We both turned in unison. He was now dressed in his signature pink spandex pants and work boots. His matching eye mask draped from his left hand. "Bob, I presume you figured out how to sober me up? I knew you did your homework, but I wouldn't have guessed that you'd known that aspect of my power."
"What do you mean?"
"That I heal faster when I'm on fire?"
"Oh, I didn't know that."
He stopped, his face distorted in confusion, "So, then why did you..."
"Set you on fire?" I shrugged, "Why not? Couldn't hurt."
"Irregardless, I can't thank you enough, man. I remember most of our conversation...I think. We're going to the police?"
"The police?"
"Yes, the police," I interrupted Nissa, "and you were very grateful. I'm going to get you in with them. Only, I need to drop Nissa off at home first."
"What?" she exclaimed.
"No can do, little buddy."
"I'm not your buddy," I grumbled.
"The public good is far more important," Flamer stared off into the sunset, his voice majestic.
I followed his gaze. There was nothing but parking structure.
"What are you doing?"
He continued his stare, adjusting his chin slightly higher, "What do you mean?"
"The voice, the look? What, are you practicing?"
He smiled sheepishly, turning to me with a slight blush, his voice falling back into his normal, boyish enthusiasm, "Yeah. What do you think? It'd make a good cover for the newspapers, right? And what about the public good stuff? Righteous, right?"
I rolled my eyes, "Oh yeah, very heroic."
He pumped his fist, "Nailed it!"
I turned to Nissa who looked like she didn't know if she should laugh or laugh harder, "You take shotgun; we'll drop you off first."
"No way, man! We gots to get to the Pig Sty first."
"Pig Sty?"
"I shouldn't call it that?"
"I wouldn't suggest it."
He scratched his head, "So, what? Pig Office? Tippy Patrol? Sidekick Wannabes? What's the correct term these days?"
I shook my head, "Just get in. I'm dropping Nissa off first."
"Forget it, Bob. I've been crammed in that office all day and you want to drop me off after you set a super on fire and before you turn him in to the cops?" She plopped down heavily in the front seat, "No way you're leaving me. This, I got to see."
It was going to be one of those nights. "Fine. Seems like I've been outvoted." I didn't relish the thought of Nissa seeing me face the cops again, this time with hat in hand, but there seemed to be no way around it. "But we've got to work on your name."
"What do you mean?" Nissa exclaimed.
"Not you," I nodded to the back seat where Shawn had planted himself, "him."
"Me? What, why?" he reached up to his head, pulling small pieces of asphalt out of his hair.
"Could you center yourself? You're making the car list."
"What? Sit on the hump?" Flamer looked down at the center of the backseat. I waited until he cursed and moved to the middle. "This sucks."
"Yeah, well, you drive next time." I turned the key, the engine rumbled to life, "Better yet, get a new car first and then you drive."
"What? You don't like Automageddon?"
"Seriously, you and names." I gunned the car, sending Nissa and me back against the seats. In the rear view mirror, Flamer barely moved.
Flamer’s weight made the car sluggish as we made our way toward City Central Police HQ. The wind made most conversation impossible, for which I was thankful. I had a lot to think about, a lot to get straight in my head. I needed information. I needed to know what had happened to Liz. My hands tightened on the steering wheel - if someone was responsible for the "accident," they were going to pay.
We had to avoid a few crowds, one of which looked to be on the edge of violence. I made a mental note of the locations. Flamer wanted to stop, but I ignored him. Nissa watched me out of the corner of her eye. She hadn't worked with me long enough to see this side of me. The side that rolled up his sleeves and did whatever it took. Sure, it was all fun and jokes at the office, but this was serious. I was going to get to the bottom of this if it killed someone. Preferably not me.
We pulled up in front of the station, "So, Shawn, I've got no problems taking you in there and giving you my recommendation, but that name has got to go."
"What," he demanded, "Flamer?"
"Yeah," I scoffed.
"I work best on fire."
"Oh, no. I understand the reference. But you couldn't come up with anything without a second meaning?"
"Well, there are a lot of registered names out there. I couldn't think of a flame related name that wasn't taken."
"Well, they should be free now," Nissa added quietly.
We all paused. Not looking at each other.
"True," I nodded, "but it may be a little early to take a familiar name. Do you have to have something based on fire? Can't we go more generic?"
"I don't know, man. I've sort of built a rep on Flamer."
"Yeah, well, you may be known in your circle of friends, but I don't think changing your name will hurt..."
"I suppose if I don't change the costume..."
"Yeah, there's that. You attached to the pink, huh?"
He threw up his arms, "Come on, man! I know it isn't the best color, but it looks g
reat when it's on fire. And it is completely fireproof. You think I didn't ask for black? The guy said the material would only work in pink."
"That guy wasn't Tinkerer was it?" Nissa interjected.
"Hey! How'd you know?"
She gave me a sideways smile.
I smiled in return, "She's a quick one, that."
Shawn's eyes darted between Nissa and me, "Huh?"
"Nothing." I laughed lightly, "How about something mundane. Make you more accessible."
"Like, Super Dude?"
"I'm pretty sure that's taken."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe I could go for something in Latin or Greek? Something cool sounding."
"You know Latin or Greek?" Nissa asked.
"Not really," he conceded.
"Okay then," I concluded.
We all paused, watching the cops walk in and out of the station. I wasn't supposed to be parked out front, but everyone was so busy they didn't pay us a second glance.
"I do know a little Gaelic."
I turned around, slowly, "Now we are getting somewhere." I thought for a moment, "So, how do you say 'human' in Gaelic?"
"Umm...sort of depends on the usage, but I guess duine."
Nissa chortled.
"Naw, that's not going to work. How about 'dude'?"
He shrugged, "There's no word for that. At least, not that I know."
"Fine, 'man' then."
"Oh, that's easy. Fear."
"I'm pretty sure there are a few of those out there."
"A solitary man is aonair. But that's more like a one-man business."
"Eh...not really. We can keep that one on the back burner."
Nissa interrupted, "What about 'male'?"
"Um...it's...fireannach...wait, I think I said that wrong."
Nissa and I looked at each other and then back at Flamer.
He scratched his beard, causing his spiked hair to quiver and a few last specs of asphalt to rain down, "I think it's pronounced more like feer-en-uck."
"No, that's where you are wrong, Fire-en-uck. New name, new man, and new job. Now, let's go get you hired."
Nissa and I exited the car simultaneously. Fireannach jumped out lightly, the car's shocks wheezing their relief.
"But, Bob, that word doesn't make any sense!"
"Even better," I called out over my shoulder. "For sure, no one's using it."
I pushed through the double doors, Nissa close behind. There was a small entryway leading to a second set of double doors. Inside, there was a mass of people, all displaying various levels of agitation and a single cop behind a huge, raised, wooden desk. His entire head, including the parts that should have had hair, was beet red and he was holding both hands out as if patting the air in front of him could beat the sound of the crowd away. Our entrance couldn't have been better timed. By the looks of the cop, he'd been at this all day. I hoped he didn't have a heart condition because he'd been pushed to his limits with this amount of stress. I turned back to Fireannach.
"Okay. Just let me do the talking. And you," I addressed Nissa, her mohawk continuing to defy gravity in spite of the open-air car ride, "just...try to be inconspicuous."
She raised an eyebrow and put a hand on a hip.
"Yeah, that's not it." I turned to address Fireannach, "Might want to put on your mask."
"Oh, man. Thanks, Bob. Totally forgot. I wouldn't want anyone to recognize me."
Nissa snickered. I gave her a hard look. She quieted down.
"Alright, let's go." I pushed through the second set of double doors, the cacophony of the crowd hitting me like a wave. I put my arms up and called out loudly, "Hey, I have a super here to see Officer..."
It struck me that I simply didn't know who to ask for. I had thought to ask for the cops that came by earlier, but it hit me that I wasn't sure they had come from this office. Plus, the only name they'd dropped was the one cop's uncle, Sandy Mitchell. I couldn't even be sure if he had the same last name.
"In charge," I heard over my shoulder. I turned slowly and Nissa stepped forward. In front of us, the crowd started to turn. As they noticed the huge, bare-chested, pink-clad super, they quieted. The cop behind the counter started to return to a more healthy color as he waved us around the side. A door opened and we quickly walked in.
"Thanks," I whispered.
"Natch. You looked frozen."
"Yeah, sometimes it's the little things that..."
"Moore?"
I recognized the voice immediately. It was the fat cop from before. The one I'd put in his place just a few hours earlier. Out of all the people I wanted to run into, this guy was one of the last. He glanced at the three of us, trying to get a head start on what we might want.
I decided to head him off at the pass, "Let's talk somewhere in private." As I said it, I regretted it. It wasn't in his nature to do as he was told.
"Naw, Moore. How's about we do it right here. Listen up, guys," he shouted, "this here's the guy who thinks we're all pigs."
Fireannach leaned down and whispered in my ear, "I thought you said they didn't like being called that?"
I gritted my teeth. I'd known this was going to suck, "You don't want to go down this road," I whispered at the cop.
"The hell I don't," he whispered back through a huge smile. "We just love that, don't we, boys?" All around him, officers grumbled and nodded.
I turned around to Fireannach and Nissa, who both looked unsteady and more than a little nervous. "Fine, Officer," I suppressed the urge to add something breakfast related. "You guys were looking for a super, I found one." I turned to point out Fireannach. He, as if on cue, had taken his most heroic stance with legs wide, fists on hips, and looking off to the side. Except his eyes kept flicking back to the front to make sure his display wasn't wasted. I shook my head, "Fireannach."
"Fireannach?" the fat officer asked.
"Yeah, he's new," I responded, then added quietly, "sort of."
"How do we know you're not putting us on?" he demanded.
I shrugged, "You want to arm wrestle him?" The fat cop looked around me at the pink-clad super, "Didn't think so."
"I don't know, Moore. I don't trust you."
"Mr. Moore?" it was the young officer related to the ex-mayor. "Oh, my...you did it!" He walked around his boss to grab my hand. "We can't thank you enough!"
"Actually, you can," I put my arm around his shoulder and leaned into his ear, "I need a favor."
He pointed us to an office nearby, "In here. You don't mind if we use your office, right, Detective?" Behind me, the fat cop grunted in a way that didn't sound like agreement. The younger cop took it as such anyway and led us in. The brass plaque on the door was old and tarnished, but clearly indicated the office belonged to a Mahoney. So that was the big cop's name. Good to know for future avoidance. Mahoney entered last and closed the door behind him.
Flamer...Fireannach seemed to take up half the room. Between him and Mahoney and two chairs for visitors, there wasn't much room in front of the desk. Files littered the floor along the walls, filled with papers, presumably on open cases. The walls were covered with awards - not a single one issued in the last decade. Some were even older. I shuffled to the side, nudging Nissa in front of me, trying to make room. Mahoney finally pushed one of the two chairs to the side to make a path to his desk.
The younger cop leaned up against a stack of boxes in the corner. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Clark. Ben Clark."
So he didn't share a name with his uncle. Good thing I didn't guess that way. Good thing I had Nissa. I glanced at my diminutive assistant with the massive hair. She was holding up well. She didn't seem at all intimidated by the situation. She had a lot of go in her. A confidence that couldn’t be taught or learned. I could appreciate that, and her other assets. My eyes flicked down quickly before I turned back to the officer.
"Nice to meet you, Ben..."
"Get on with it, Moore," Mahoney was trying to take
control of the situation. I didn't plan on letting him.
"Well first, this is Fireannach. He's here to help and he's not afraid of anyone. Not even The Raven. Right?"
Behind me I assumed Shawn nodded as both the cops looked a bit shocked.
"So, how come you're so fearless?" Mahoney demanded.
Before Shawn could answer, I spoke, "It's fire. You saw what happened to those others? He exploded or whatever. Well, Fireannach is actually strengthened by fire." The cops nodded appreciatively, "He was on his way to the games when The Raven attacked," I lied. "If he had been there, who knows what would have happened?" I certainly didn't and I was sure Shawn didn't either. "Now, Detective," he frowned at my deliberate use of his honorific, "Mahoney. We saw a mob forming just a few blocks from here. On the corner of 5th and C Street. Probably a great way to test out your new super."
"Don't worry, Officer, we'll get this city back under control in no time," Shawn sounded like a radio DJ. He needed to work on his heroic voice.
Mahoney hadn't moved. He was eying me suspiciously, "Fine. Clark. Take Fire..."
"Annach," I completed.
"Thanks," he growled, "Fireannach down to 5th and C and..."
"Wow, that's really generous of you," I interrupted again.
Mahoney closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "What?"
"Letting your deputy take the credit for bringing a super back onto the scene. I mean," I motioned out the door to the crowd that we couldn't see behind the large desk, "all those people are going to see him. Might end up with an award or something. Commendation at least."
Mahoney flinched, trying not to look at the framed pictures on his walls, "You know, on second thought, maybe I ought to. You know, just for appearances." Mahoney stood, circled the desk and still managed to slam his shoulder into mine. I held firm, which allowed him to whisper into my ear, "Moore, you're up to something. I know that. You're playing an angle and I don't like it."
