Rise of a D-List Supervillain

by Jim Bernheimer

  When they make something to cancel out bitter feelings, I’ll ask Wendy to buy one for me. Either way, I seem to be in no immediate danger.

  “How’s my suit?”

  “Mega? Or that piece of shit you came in with?”

  “Both, but I’m sure Andy wouldn’t let anything happen to Mega, so the VZ suit.”

  “I had to pop you out of it after Andy flew you away. It wouldn’t fit up the chute with you in it, and I didn’t exactly know where all them releases and whatnot were. And, you have to understand, it wasn’t exactly in great shape to begin with. Well, you know—”

  Cutting him off, I say, “So, what you’re saying is that it’s pretty jacked up, too.”

  He gives me an unapologetic shrug. “Yeah, sorry ’bout that. But you should be grateful, I coulda stuck around and hit on Hermes. Word on the street is that she wants to take a ride on the Highwayman!”

  “No biggie,” I reassure him, cringing inside at the thought of the Olympian and Bobby together. “I’d planned on tearing it down anyway and maybe wiring it up for Andy to use with us out in the field. As for Hermes, make sure you keep the motorcycle helmet on.”

  Bobby visibly relaxes. He actually is worried that I’m pissed about the armor.

  “You could have taken off the belt and treated me like a human. Did Andy decide I was too injured to take a try at it?”

  There’s a long pause while Bobby frowns. “We did. Just a few minutes after we brought you through. Andy even put it in a box with a force field on it to see if it would break the flow of the magic or some such shit. It’s in your room down in the base.”

  I think I’m allowed to panic at that. It’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to an unreasonable situation.

  “Is it just the magic, or did I get exposed to the Mangler juice?”

  “Cal!”

  “Shit! Shit! Shit! Come on, man! Spit it out, Bobby!”

  “Do you seriously think I know the answer to that? C’mon, Cal! You’ll have to wait until Andy is free. He’s got some ideas about what’s going on.”

  He’s right. The mere fact that I’m asking Bobby for a medical opinion just shows how desperate I am. Andy can multitask better than any living being, but the android’s program restricts how many instances he can have at any given time.

  I take a few minutes to stop hyperventilating. Now I can add a slight sense of lightheadedness to my list of current medical issues.

  Focus.

  Don’t panic!

  Focus.

  Seriously, don’t panic!

  Focus!

  “Screw it!” I shout. The logical portion of my mind says that maintaining the hybrid spell for consecutive several days has probably led to where I’m magically saturated, and staying away from magic for the near future will allow it to drain off and nullify the spell. Maybe I could get Bobby to open a window and I could shoot a mage bolt or two and try and bleed off some of the excess. Then again, maybe I could just shoot one at Bobby and get a little satisfaction out of it at the same time.

  Instead of giving in, I wave my free clawed hand at Flora’s jewelry box and levitate it to start getting rid of the excess I’ve built up.

  Of course there’s a minute chance that I have reached an oversaturated condition. It’s kind of like the expression “Don’t make that face or it might get stuck like that.” I’m not too worried about that. Everyone who Tyrannosorcerer Rex changed reverted back when I offed his cold-blooded ass. Of course, he was holding the spell over several hundred people. I also ran around a base where a cloud of airborne mutation gas was released and who knows whether any got on me or not. The odds aren’t really in my favor, but that’s pretty much the story of my life.

  At the very least, I hope that I will change back when I die. Then again, that would negate the chance of my body ending up in some kind of sideshow attraction.

  I find it’s best to face these situations with humor. It helps with the panic.

  • • •

  “You still haven’t changed back.” Wendy states the obvious, entering the room. Her arm is in a sling because of the break in her collar bone. “I wanted to bring Gabby by, but am holding off until you do.”

  “It’s been almost two days,” I hiss. “This is starting to get old. It shouldn’t be a problem if you want to bring her to see me. I tried three times spending what little magic I have until I pass out. All that got me was a couple of good naps. Andy sent Flora and James in twice to give me a decontamination scrub down. See how shiny my scales are?”

  She smiles, and I know she’s got a zinger prepared and is just waiting to use it. “Maybe you need a kiss from a princess to break your evil spell?”

  “You volunteering?”

  “I ain’t no damn princess! Hell, between you and me, you’re the one who is usually the damsel in distress.”

  “Way to kick a hybrid when he’s down,” I retort. “So, other than taking a couple of cheap shots at me, and demonstrating your obvious bigotry against semi-humans, what are you doing here?”

  “Some things have come up that you need to be in the loop on.”

  I really don’t like the way that sounds. I set down the laptop that’s playing the images of the battle and the aftermath. I can’t be sure why, but I am somewhat interested in what happened to Bryce and Dean. Gina, I spotted. Or at least, I saw a sort of attractive female bunny hybrid with a blue and purple tinge to the fur on her head in a tattered set of scrubs. Who knows where she goes from there? I feel somewhat bad for her, but in the end she is a nice sort of person who works for a really bad person. She also made the mistake of befriending a guy who lies to everyone, including himself.

  Hermes found her cousin, now a cheetah-themed Mangler, still unconscious in the recovery unit. It appears that he’s going to live and be pissed that someone stole his armor.

  “Let’s just wait, shall we? I watched a couple of Mexican soldiers come up to shake José’s hand and give him a pat on the back,” she says.

  “Let me guess, two new Manglermals?”

  “You’re not as dumb as you look . . . at least right now.”

  My free hand is still missing two fingers, but I give her the middle claw anyway. It’s the thought that counts. Then I have to get serious for a change. “Is Larry okay?”

  Wendy pauses and looks for the right words. “He’s getting there. I assured him that I was going to take the four-headed monster out, if he hadn’t. Why else did I updraft it probably a thousand feet in the air? I didn’t know about Bitchslap, and Larry reacted to me getting hurt. I don’t consider what he did an issue, but he is afraid of his powers at the moment and closing himself off.”

  I shake my head at her. Wendy is somewhat understating the situation. Larry ripped Doc Mangler and his three buddies in half. Or is that halves? Quarters? Either way, chunks of the creature rained down on the battlefield and pretty much put a halt to all the fighting.

  “I was hoping Andy would use the railgun or just hand me the damn thing and let me take the shot. I wasn’t too keen on you having to be the one, and I sure as shit never wanted any more blood on Larry’s hands. That’s what you have me and Bobby for. We’re the heavies. We’re the ones that wash death away with a case of beer.”

  “We don’t always get what we want,” the petite brunette states. “I am thinking of sending him up to talk with you. Bobby tried having words with him, but I think this is more up your alley.”

  She must be worried. She hasn’t cussed very much!

  “Have you spoken with Stacy at all? Is she coming?”

  “She’s stuck at the site of the battle. Her armor makes her one of the few that can safely go into the quarantine area without any fear of exposure. I let her know what’s going on with you and asked her to stay away for a few days. I didn’t think you’d want her to see you like this. I can get with Andy and have him rig something up so you can talk with her.”

  That is actually very considerate of Wendy. Shit! She must be on the verge
of freaking out over her team with me injured, and what’s going on with Larry. “No. Tell her I don’t mind if she stops by. Actually, I think you should have her talk with Larry.”

  “Her? Really?”

  “Yeah. Stacy has been at the game as long as you have. She knows the deal, and understands how bad things can go. Larry knows what I’m capable of, and would expect me to tell him to walk it off or some such shit. He’s got a kid sister thing going on with you. Hell, you could go on a homicidal rage in a daycare and Larry wouldn’t think any less of you, but Stacy isn’t really part of our team. If an Olympian tells him that he did the right—well, that he did what was necessary—it’ll mean something more. I think she can get through to him.”

  The Overlord had compared Larry to The Cowardly Lion from The Wizard of Oz. He wasn’t certain Larry had the stomach for some of the darker things that come with being a hero. Larry will probably find himself in this position again if old Jerimiah has his way.

  “I really hate it when you start making sense. Anytime you do, I feel like there should be some emergency right behind you.”

  “I’m fresh out of emergencies at the moment. Check back in a few days, I should have something by then.”

  “Funny,” she replies in a tone that conveys how little she thinks of my joke. “We’re in a bind here. I’ll be honest, I’m going to send Flora back in here to decontaminate you one more time. I need you back in control of the Megasuit. Andy’s working on reconfiguring a chair you can sit in in this form and keep that leg up.”

  “Sounds serious. What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong? Well, let me tell you what’s fucking wrong! José says Mangler boasted that they’d already sent enough out of the previous formulas to make five bombs.”

  “Five? He didn’t sound like he was nearly that far along!”

  “Oh, he was. He just wanted to get as close to one hundred percent and was after a version that would work on supers. Mangler didn’t like the idea of anyone being immune to his creation.”

  “There’s still that one canister. They wanted me to go spray Spiritstaff and K-Otica. Let me guess. Either the government of Mexico or America grabbed it so they could study it for a potential cure, but really just wants to perfect the process.”

  “I took it,” she answers, positively stunning me.

  “Holy shit! No way!”

  “After the thing with those little invulnerability patches, I’m not ready to trust any government with that shit. The Mexicans are lining up volunteers to go in to the quarantine zone to ‘help salvage.’ What they’re really doing is making a Mangler special ops regiment and collecting as much of Mangler’s formula as they can. It seems to be losing potency from what José passed on to me.”

  I can see that my dreams of stealing all the shit out of that base or just taking it over are going up in flames. So much stuff, all contaminated and in someone else’s hands. What a goddamn waste!

  She continues, “The formula even un-Mangled one guy. Turned him from a minotaur back into a regular guy.”

  “Babe?”

  “Call me that again,” she threatens. “See what happens.”

  “No, Babe the Blue Ox. Was it that guy?”

  “Oh, yeah. I think so. Sorry,” she says, clearly a bit out of sync. “José wants to come by as well. He cornered me and let me know he was on to you. Nice job keeping that a secret.”

  “I try.”

  “How about trying a little harder next time, Cal?”

  “Sure thing, boss!” I shout back with false cheer. “I should have known he’d recognize me transformed into a lizard, not being dead, and replaced by an imposter. What was I thinking?”

  “You make it real easy to fucking hate you. You know that?”

  “You’re forgetting who came up with this great idea. How is the Six-Pack, anyway?”

  “His clones come out and immediately change into Manglers. He appears to be as human as they come, but every clone so far has been a different kind of Mangler.”

  “Is he OK with that?” I ask. “You could call it an upgrade, but it is kind of a shitty one.”

  “Charles said that José is dealing with it as expected. He might send one of his clones out to stay with us. It would make coordination easier between our teams since Paper Tiger can’t be in two places at once. José is even considering a name change.”

  “To what? With the right combination, he could call himself The Five Deadly Venoms. I always loved that movie. Beastmaster? Zookeeper?”

  “Casa de Fieras or Menagerie in English,” she answers. “Although Beastmaster in Spanish might sound better . . . El Maestro de Bestia?”

  I shrug and wrap my claws around a plastic cup of water. Using a straw is a little odd when your head is partially reptilian and doubly so when you’re drinking a beer. Who does that? Right now, I guess I do. “Sounds long-winded to me. I would stick with Six-Pack or maybe start calling himself Wild Pack.”

  “If my mom was managing him, she would probably recommend Wild Pack. It’s close enough to his old name to keep the branding, but new enough that he could probably have his agent renegotiate licensing fees.”

  I had forgotten the whole business aspect of things. Being a criminal previously, I didn’t have any rights with the toy companies until I joined the Gulf Coasters. The Mechanical—yeah, even they didn’t bother getting the name right—action figure had originally been included in the limited run Biloxi Bugler Bank heist playset. The toy company reissued it after I was no longer in the picture and threw in a couple of generic thugs action figures. Suddenly it became a hero “team up” set.

  Bobby bought me an unopened original version as a gag gift just before I “died” off in California. It is actually a pretty valuable collectible now.

  When I switched sides, the PR group handling the Guardians negotiated the standard licensing deal for my MK III suit and the name correction. Last I heard, the imposter is sailing on that revenue stream.

  “So what’s on the agenda, boss lady? I know you can’t get enough of me and all that, and we obviously have to track down the Mangler bombs, but I am guessing there’s more.”

  She collects her thoughts for a moment. “We need to start putting together a plan to deal with that fucking imposter of yours.”

  It’s funny how a near-death situation can make me forget that there is someone else out there pretending to be me and reaping the rewards of my hard work. It’s yet another example of first-world superhuman problems.

  “What’s he done now? More interviews badmouthing heroes? I actually kind of enjoy those. Whoever it is, he is a much better public speaker than I ever will be.”

  She turns on the television and thumbs through the menu for a recorded segment on the Superhuman News Network.

  I see a very human version of me, standing at a podium and not looking at all uncomfortable in a business suit. Anyone who really knows me would realize that I’m more at home in a powersuit than one of those damn things!

  Beside my doppelganger is my co-novelist, Megan, a woman I recognize as a big-time attorney, and two others. One is a man in a purple and reddish suit with a matching fedora. The other is a smallish red-headed college-aged female dressed like she’s headed to her first interview.

  The guy is The Fabulous Gay Mage, and I only recognize the co-ed because Bobby fought her a few weeks ago—Treehugger. The Mage is a solid B-level magician and obviously a threat to my Megasuit with his spells. Treehugger is strong and fairly mobile because she can teleport into trees and turn them into her new body. I rate her as a high C or maybe on the low side of the B level.

  He’s bought himself a pair of bodyguards. That’s not a good sign. He probably pays them with my money!

  Onscreen, my mouth begins moving. “After the events in Mexico, I have to express my concern over my daughter’s safety. Allow me to be perfectly clear—Wendy is and always will be a great hero. Right now, she’s in a spot of trouble with our government. I’ve been there and done that, so
I’m not the one to throw stones when I’m living in a glass house. Still, it isn’t about Wendy, it’s about my little girl. What kind of life can she be living on the run? She should be playing, making friends, and doing all the things that kids her age are supposed to be doing, not hidden in some dark corner of a secret hideout. I’ve been patient, but I’m a father who has never even held his daughter. I don’t think I can wait much longer knowing she’s out there and possibly in danger.”

  There are a few seconds of silence before the bastard moves on. “To that end, I’ve filed a request with the court to terminate Wendy’s rights as a parent and asked the FBI to classify Gabby as being abducted.”

  Even though the imposter hadn’t finished, a flurry of questions interrupted him. I see the faintest hint of a crack in that mask the copy wears. He tries not to get overwhelmed before Megan pushes him aside.

  “What Calvin is saying is that while he understands and appreciates all the contributions that Wendy LaGuardia has made, the child Calvin helped her conceive needs to be in a stable environment. Mr. Stringel has the money to hire bodyguards and support the baby. Some people believe that this is a conspiracy that the government would use his daughter as leverage over WhirlWendy. Cal and his team have been in contact with the Superhuman Activities committee and have been assured by multiple congressmen on that committee that this would not be the case. As my client is somewhat famous, any action against his baby would draw the kind of negative response that every government official runs and hides from.

  “Furthermore, I think it’s obvious which way the vaunted superhumans she associates with are going to side. Despite being a fugitive and having several warrants out for her arrest, none of the Olympians or her fellow Guardians made any attempt to detain her in Mexico. I would certainly hope that the leaders of those groups have to justify their actions, or should I say inactions, to the government. They’re most assuredly thumbing their nose at the people who fund their teams and permit their teams to have a legitimate existence. Maybe the truth is that they are looking at Wendy and her rogue team as an example of where they want to take their teams.”