by Adam Graham
Farrow sighed. Once Powerhouse was out of that way, this would sign Fournier’s death warrant, but that didn’t matter, if Rosie lived.
Farrow said, “Dorado is a front for interdimensional aliens who will bring Earth a golden age. Science, health, and peace will flourish rather than the irrational superstitions, disease, and war. They’ve cured me of AIDS, and they can cure everyone else, too, but first humanity has to give up on itself and submit to the wisdom and rule of King Bel. Powerhouse wickedly gives people false hope, so he has to go.”
Fournier snorted. “More philosophical than I’d expected. It sounds too good to be true, so it probably is, plus I hate Varlock. So, okay, I will help you stop the aliens’ plan but on one condition: you have to stop drinking.”
Mitch snorted. “What are you, a prohibitionist? It’s none of your business if I have a drink every now and then.”
Fournier held the lapels of his lab coat with both hands. “You’re asking me to risk my life against an interdimensional empire. I’m going to need your clear-headed help.”
“I never drink too much on the job.”
“Can you say the alphabet backwards or walk a straight line? Could you drive a car without being pulled over? Is your whiskey more important than your daughter?”
Mitch growled. “No drinking until Powerhouse is on ice. Good enough?”
Fournier shook his head. “You can promise me anything, but you can also buy anything you want. I need something to ensure you don’t drink. You’ll have to agree to the presence of Albert as your constant companion.”
“Who is Albert?”
“My pride and joy!” Fournier beamed.
He had a kid? Mitch arched his eyebrow. “Let’s see him.”
“Yes, sir.” Fournier pulled a remote control out of his lab coat’s pocket and pressed a button. In strode a version of Fournier with a blue bow tie and the physique of a basketball player.
“That’s your son?”
“In a way. He’s the offspring of my intellect.” Fournier straightened his pink bow tie, puffing his chest out. “After my studies of the aliens’ technology, I have produced Albert, my first android. He doesn’t talk, but I’ve seen many potential applications, and I’ve just completed programming him for substance abuse treatment. He’ll ensure you don’t have a drink.”
“Lovely.” Mitch snorted.
Fournier pressed a button. “There. He’s programmed to assist you.”
“And what will happen if I have a drink?”
“Sir, you don’t want to find out.”
Mitch stared up at the monstrosity. “Fine, I’ll agree to keep your robot around until we have this Powerhouse matter concluded.”
‘That’s all I ask.”
“One more thing.” Mitch leaned toward the doc. “Get him dressed in business clothes. I can pass him off as a bodyguard but that requires a suit.”
“It shall be done.” Fournier sauntered towards the door.
Mitch reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it.
Throbbing pain slammed him as electricity coursed through his veins.
He screamed, dropped the cigarette, coughed, and heaved deep breaths.
Fournier ran back in, eyed the cigarette, and laughed. “Oh silly me! Sorry, sir, I had Albert programmed to help with smoke cessation. I’ll switch it.”
Mitch glared at the evil android. “Switch it and get out!”
“Yes, sir.”
Naomi rode Cyrus along the streets of Gordon, Wyoming. She was in her first stab at a Super Soccer Mom costume: a black dominoe mask, cape, and a pair of pistols on her black jeans’ belt.
“Can we gallop?” her horse asked.
“We have to move stealthily through town as we hunt for the criminals behind the meth.”
“Are the cats making this thing called meth?”
“No, but they can tell us.”
Cyrus neighed in equine laughter. “Cats are only dumb animals.”
“Oh, but it’s normal for a horse to talk?”
“To horses. It’s your people who are normally as dumb as the animals.”
A gray tom cat darted in front of the horse.
Naomi dismounted. She knelt by the cat, offering her nose. “Hello.”
The tom cat turned, his nose twitching as he sniffed hers. “Hello. I don’t suppose you actually understand me? So far, the humans I generously share my territory with can at best bluff their way through a conversation in my tongue.”
“Oh, I think I speak your language well enough.” She pulled out a cat treat and extended her hand.
“Gift accepted.” The cat ate out of her hand.
“Have you been around town much?”
“Everywhere.”
Naomi stroked the cat’s fur. “Have you seen a place where humans show up all the time?”
The cat licked his paws. “There’s the place that smells like coffee.”
“Do you know anywhere a lot of humans show up at all hours?”
“One of my queens disappeared from such a place.”
“Thanks, I’ll look into it. I could pick you up.”
The cat stiffened. “Don’t. I hate that.”
“I’ll follow you then, and you’ll lead me to the house.”
“You can do that.” The cat darted off.
Smirking, Naomi mounted her horse. “See? Cats talk.”
“All I saw was you and that beast acting like cats and making cat noises.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks warmed. “Well, follow the cat, Cyrus.”
“Howdy, Marie!” Mike hollered at her as he stood on the porch in jeans and a cowboy shirt.
Naomi bit her lip. “Sir, you’re mistaken. I’m Justice Woman.”
Mike chuckled. “Come on, Marie. I recognize Cyrus.”
“Oh.” Naomi’s body heat rose as she nudged her horse. “Giddy up.”
Cyrus galloped forward.
Where was that cat? Naomi groaned. She’d gotten away before the sexist pig could condescend to her, but she’d still lost the cat’s trail.
Naomi pulled the reins. “I’d better find him on foot, old friend.”
Cyrus came to a stop outside of an abandoned building with a sign that said, “Mason’s Printers” on it.
“I need to make sure you’re not recognized, Cyrus.” Naomi stroked his mane, reached in her pocket, pulled out a tissue, and put it on his head. “Now, turn into a mask to cover his face.”
Cyrus stomped, snorting. “What is this? Where did that come from?”
“I put it there so no one would recognize you. You need to wear a mask like I do.”
Cyrus neighed. “You’re the craziest human I ever met.”
Naomi ran after the cat and reached a vacant lot near a group of houses.
The cat emerged from behind a building holding a mouse in its mouth and dropped it at Naomi’s feet. “Behold, to honor your skill at mastering my language, I give you this token as a sign of my own prowess and cunning.”
Naomi frowned. “Thank you, Kitty, but I asked you to go to that house.”
The cat stuck up its nose. “A king goes where he wants to go. Maybe I’ll go to that house, if there’s something I want.”
“What about your missing queen?”
“There’s plenty of other ladies around to bear my kittens.”
“Look, I need to protect humans from the people in that house.”
The cat hissed at her. “You should protect cats and get rid of those big metal monsters that carry humans around in their bellies.”
“People need those. We need to travel long distances.”
“Does that one kitten need to throw rocks? He’s evil, walking around the streets and finding us cats and hitting us with stones.”
What a cruel boy! Naomi gasped. “No, that’s wrong!”
“Then make him stop.”
“I’ll help you if you’ll help me.”
“Humans don’t help cats. My adoptive mom was a human. She r
efused to help me groom myself, neglected to continue my hunting lessons, and failed to properly mark our territory. When I grew up and took on that responsibility, she got mad and kicked me out.”
“I’ll find you a good human mommy.” Who would do the responsible thing and neuter him. “And I’ll take care of the bully. Is that enough?”
“Will you stroke my back?”
“Sure.” Naomi petted him for a minute.
“Hey, stop that! It’s annoying.”
Cats. She rolled her eyes. “Okay, let me go get my horse.”
“Better one of those dumb animals than the metal monsters.”
Naomi ran back to Cyrus. “Okay, he’ll wait for us. I talked to him.”
The horse neighed. “Finally.”
They followed the cat for a mile and a half just outside of town. Halfway up a hill, a molly cat ran up and swatted at the tom they’d been following. The tom darted off toward a tree.
Naomi jumped off the horse and ran after. “What about the house? You promised!”
“What’s a promise?” The tom disappeared up the tree.
Guess she’d continue on up the hill and hope they’d been headed in the general right direction. “Come on Cyrus. Yah.”
The horse cantered uphill. Several cars sat outside a ramshackle house. Naomi scanned it. Five men were inside. One carried an open briefcase full of money while the other had one full of drugs. They’d piled up discarded cartons of pseudoephedrine sold under various brand names. Two of the men held guns under their coats.
They pulled them out.
Naomi whispered, “Weapons, heat to three hundred degrees.”
The men’s eyes bugged out as they cursed and dropped their guns. They fled out of the house. She sprinted ahead of them and delivered hundreds of punches and kicks in moments.
The abusive drug dealers all sprawled on the ground, clothes torn, their faces beaten and bloodied.
A bearded man with a puffy eye glanced up. “Who are you? Narcotics?”
Naomi laughed. “This is a strictly illegal raid. I can’t get you in court, but I expect you to leave the county now and never return or else.”
The five men scrambled up to leave.
She grabbed the black-haired one with the money by his shoulder. “Not so fast, Uncle Moneybags. You’re a dealer, and you don’t just buy from this one little house. No doubt, you have multiple sources throughout the county. I want their names and addresses.”
The guy wiped his bleeding lip. “Or you’ll hurt me if I don’t?”
“You get the idea, mister.” She raised her boot to kick him.
He gasped and swallowed. “I’ll tell you everything.”
Why was she disappointed?
A cell phone rang. Blurry-eyed, Dave fumbled on the bedstead for the phone and peered at the time. 4:04 A.M. I’ve been asleep less than an hour. “Hello, we don’t want any.”
Seattle Chief of Police Stone Bachmann’s voice said, “Powerhouse?”
Powerhouse rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. “What is it, Chief?”
“We had a jail break. Jacob Seal, Rodney Carpenter, Pat Porter, and Jesse Peralto all escaped.”
Powerhouse frowned. The chief had meant Seal Man, Remote Master, Humyn Revenge, and the Quandary. “So I can catch all these master criminals but you can’t keep them in jail.”
The chief growled. “We’re not all celebrities with superpowers. Maybe if we were, we wouldn’t have four dead cops on our hands. Sorry they can’t be as perfect as you. Maybe you’d like to call their families and tell them they won’t be coming home.”
Powerhouse swallowed. “I’m sorry, Chief. I support you all the way.”
“I’m sorry too. I think this crime wave has us both on edge.”
“So who was behind it?”
“From the video tape, it looks like the Invisibility Master. He was found missing from the Supermax in Colorado this morning.”
Powerhouse groaned. “They may have to re-evaluate the whole escape-proof rating on that place, given the number of times he’s gotten out.”
“Either way, it’s bad.”
“I should say so. Four master criminals plus the Invisibility Master. But I’ll find them.”
He hung up and glanced at the picture of Naomi and the boys on the nightstand. On one hand, it was good Naomi and the boys weren’t here. He’d be worried about them. On the other hand, he missed the days when he could spend time with his family.
No time for that now. He went to the closet and pulled out several six-hour energy shot drinks and downed four. Only a few minutes for the energy drinks to take effect and he’d be ready to find the bad guys.
The Pharaoh sat in his underground lair with Fournier and his goofy but dangerous robot right behind him. “I’m waiting.”
Fournier said, “Just a second. I should have them on view screen—now.”
Varlock appeared on the computer screen. Surrounding him was the Invisibility Master and four other criminals of the costumed clown variety, including a stocky woman. Varlock asked, “What will it be?”
A man in a red sweater snickered. “If our only options are taking part in your plan or getting instantly vaporized, what choice do we have?”
Varlock preened. “None at all. My people are known for our negotiating acumen.”
The others nodded.
Red Sweater said, “Why are we trying such a dopey plan as attacking Powerhouse one by one? We could take him all at once.”
Varlock waggled his tongue. “The Final Five showed the folly of that.”
Invisibility Master snickered. “They were a bad joke. We could—”
“—all be defeated by Powerhouse with a thought. Follow my plan.”
The stocky woman said, “How do we know you will get us out of jail if we’re caught again.”
Varlock snapped his fingers. “Ooh, I could betray you! That thought never occurred to me. That’d be fun, but I can’t do everything that’s fun. I have to serve my master.”
A man in a seaman’s jacket said, “And we’ll each get $167 million?”
Varlock touched his tongue towards his nose. “One billion dollars will be divided evenly among the survivors.”
The guy in a flight jacket said, “Powerhouse doesn’t kill.”
Invisibility Master flashed his teeth. “There’s always a first time.”
A smoking man in black laughed. “So long as we get to see blood.”
The stocky woman eyed Varlock. “How do we know you really have a billion dollars?”
Varlock waved. “I will show you the money. First we shall draw for an order in which you shall face Powerhouse, then we shall swim.”
“You have a pool here?”
“No, a billion dollars worth of paper.” He led them out of the room.
Fournier sighed. “Unfortunately, I didn’t bug the money room.”
Pharaoh stroked his chin. “We still don’t know how they intend to get rid of Powerhouse.”
“Sir, the interesting question is who the sixth person is?”
Pharaoh raised his eyebrows at Fournier. “I need a drink.”
Albert beeped.
Pharaoh sighed. “I’ll skip the drink. I meant explain.”
Fournier straightened his bowtie. “Jacob Seal expected $167 million. A billion divided five ways between Invisibility Master and the four escapees would be $200 million.”
“You know who these guys are?”
“Yes, they’re well-known escaped convicts. Don’t you read the news?”
“Don’t be an idiot. I make the news.” Pharaoh pursed his lips. “The sixth man may be Varlock cutting himself in. What are the others doing? Why take Powerhouse on one by one?” Pharaoh bolted up. “He’s depriving Powerhouse of sleep. The goal is to keep a constant barrage of crooks on his adversary until he wears him down. We have to stop him.”
“To be sure I understood, are we going to help Powerhouse or Varlock?”
Pharaoh glowered. �
��The revolting, momentary lesser of two evils.”
Powerhouse had to live long enough for him to stop him, if Rosie was going to have a chance.
Chapter 11
Cats and Serial Killers
Naomi stared down from a tree while dressed as Justice Woman.
A few yards away, a twelve-year-old brat crouched behind a tractor as he eyed a kitten. He picked up a stone and whirled back like major league pitcher.
Naomi jumped to the ground.
The boy threw his rock at the innocent cat.
Naomi raced in between the projectile and its target and caught it. The poor little thing scampered away.
She lurched toward the brat. “How’d you like it if I threw a rock at you?”
The little coward cursed her out and ran.
Naomi raced ahead of him and put her arms up. “Not so fast, mister. I think we need an understanding. You will never throw a stone at a cat again.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll get my digital camera out of my pocket.” She pulled it out. Brat’s clothes, transform into a clown outfit with red fluffy pants with a sign around his neck that reads, “I abuse cats.”
The laughing boy looked at himself. His eyes widened, and he gasped.
Naomi snapped a picture. “If you ever throw a rock at a cat again, I will put an oversized version of this on the billboard outside of town and mail it to everyone in your school.”
Cursing, the boy ripped off the sign and hurled it at the tractor. “They’re just dumb cats.”
“They weren’t put on this Earth to be abused for your amusement.”
“Y-y-yes, m-ma’am.” The boy ran off.
Good job scaring a twelve-year-old. Boy’s clothes, change back to normal.
What would Powerhouse say about this? Oh, what did that matter? It was what needed done. The kid had it coming for picking on a poor kitten.
The cat from the previous night rubbed against her leg. “You keep your word. All cats in this area are in your debt.”
“You’re welcome. Now it’s, time to find you a home.” Naomi led the cat about half a mile up the road.
“I rarely meet a trustworthy stranger.”
