by P. S. Power
On the fourth round, just as Proxy and Carl, the insane level fifteen trainer, drove cars at them, which Clark stopped by causing them to float into the air a few feet, then used as shields for LG and Goblin, Denis decided to give something new a shot. He made the whole lot of them fall down. Except Proxy, who struggled out of his car window a bit clumsily and the red-haired street guy who grinned at him and stumbled over gamely. He used his bullhorn as a bludgeon and “pretended” to beat Denis to the ground with it. Even faked the blows were enough to get him to fall to the ground for real, trying to avoid real seeming pain.
Then the man fought with Marcia, who was stronger and way faster than the guy seemed to be. Easily several times outside the guy's power class. If she hadn't been invulnerable she'd have probably died even in this mock practice session. As it was she ended up tangled in the man's “bum coat” dumped on the ground with her costume pants pulled around her knees to impede movement. The tan and patched coat covered enough for modesty, but that was about all. It certainly didn't protect her pride.
Right, Denis decided, don't pick a fight with the bum guy, good rhyming scheme or not.
The people on the ground started getting up then, he hit them again from the ground, but knew that to be a farce. If he'd really been beaten like that, he'd be unconscious at the very least. Maybe dead. Fuckola.
The whole day felt like a sign to him. One that said in big neon red letters, “don't fucking go”. Stay home and let the police handle their own riots. Except, of course, they were required to go by the new Hooper emergency bill set up.
At least sending him made more sense now. No one cared if he died and if it went fubar they could always just blame him. Screw that. If it came to that he'd blame one of the others. Possibly Clark. Sure, Denis was a dick, or had that reputation still at least, the last two days notwithstanding, but the tall funny looking telekinetic was a child molester.
Maybe not really, but close enough to blame him for everything if they had to. Really Denis needed to bring that up with Marcia sometime soon. Just in case.
The next morning, early, they were all out on the tarmac next to the main building at nine to be whisked off in luxury by a private jet. It belonged to the Team Three leader, Chris, who had more money than God and liked both Karen and Marcia at least. Heck, she was dating Mark, even though he was being held back in case a second riot broke out anywhere else while the rest of the team was busy in Chicago. He was the only single person they had that could both get to a riot anywhere in the U.S. and make it stop all on his own. Though three thousand people tied up instantly with duct tape wouldn't play well on the news really.
That's what Denis expected at least, what had always happened before when they went places. Instead, this time, it was a tiny commuter plane. Slick white with a single blue stripe down each side. One with propellers even. It could fit everyone, barely, in its worn looking brown fabric covered seats, that were padded, but just enough to remind Denis of seats in an old movie theater he used to go to when he was on the streets. They had two for the price of one dollar matinées on Wednesdays.
The chairs were small and the heavier people had to all sit on the right hand side so the plane wouldn't list due to the pilot's weight on the left.
Yeah, this felt safe and good, Denis thought, as he moved into his assigned seat. The luggage all got situated in the back by the pilot, a thirty-odd year old slightly Hispanic looking man with a deep tan and a brown aviator's jacket made of leather. It looked real at least. Expensive. Denis wanted one. Really, really badly for a few seconds.
It took will to breathe through it and fight for mental clarity. Oddly enough, this time it came to him pretty easily, and after about half a minute he didn't want it anymore. It was enough to make Denis blink and then freeze in place. He'd just... mastered his first mode? It was only once, sure, but... excitement flowed through him. It was a start. A real one. He smiled but didn't say anything. It wasn't like the greed would just go away. This gave him a chance though. Some hope.
Marcia grunted after they took off, looking around at everyone with a sigh. Today they were all in civvies, even her. She wore a dress in blue with a string of pearls and what looked like tan pumps. She didn't have on nylons, Denis didn't think, but her legs were flawless. Yum, he thought, wondering if she'd actually kill him for suggesting they share a room or if it would just be a beating that made him wish he'd died?
Karen wore jeans and a long sleeved shirt with the waist tucked in, buttoned up the front, it had a soft off-white look, pink nearly. He wore jeans too. That and some shirts had been provided for him. Today's was a light blue pullover sweater, since it had turned a little chill, as he'd learned a few days before after giving Marcia his baker's top. Smock? Something like that. Fall going into winter. At least the riot wouldn't be too hot.
Tobin had on a pair of kids overalls in blue jean material, with a wide straw hat and a green shirt on underneath. At his size it had to be hard to find good cloths. Especially if he didn't want a geranimal's logo on them. Across from him in the back Clark had dressed like an ex-hippie undertaker. Black suit with a tie-dyed button up underneath. Looking at it Denis had to snort.
“Way to blend with the normals there Clark. Couldn't find a purple pimp suit to go with the shirt?” The words were sarcastic and biting. Crud. Holding up his hand as he turned around, he apologized.
“Sorry, not trying to be a dick. I just mean, well, a shirt like that might catch some attention, don't you think?” This time the words were a bit gentler and Marcia, who sat directly behind him nodded.
“Yeah. We need to do better people. Half of you look fine, and I can forgive Tobin, because he looks adorable, but from now on no tie-dye or neon colors in the field. Or Armani.”
The other person that looked out of place of course, was Jay. He'd dressed for a press conference, in a suit that probably had taken three tailors a month to make. With his looks and build it really stood out. The man had a thin, muscular form, and flawless skin. Everything had just lined up about perfectly for him that way.
Looking down the man grimaced a bit, “sorry Marsh. It's all I had. I'll get some more normal clothes as soon as possible.”
“Good. Probably not a big deal while we travel, I just don't want us looking conspicuous in the crowd when we're on duty. We need to find out what Hooperites wear and match them as well as possible. Maybe find some of our cousins to marry in order to really sell the whole thing? Half of what happened at practice yesterday had to do with the fact that everyone knew we were the targets and how to defeat us. We can't give that kind of edge to these people in real life. Under the radar is the key here.”
Karen shifted uneasily, “well, Lady Glory is a bit noticeable. I can hide before I do anything, but the second I start using my power...” Hands going up she giggled, which didn't sound like a happy thing at all.
“Me too.” Tobin said softly, staring at the back of Karen's head, nodding gently. “Exactly the same thing. The second I start using my power I'll turn into a world famous super-hero that everyone will recognize and love. Then they'll all be chanting my name and asking for autographs... It's really not fair, I should be allowed to have a private life too.” He sounded incredibly sincere when he said it.
After a second of stunned silence everyone laughed.
Karen turned to him and nodded, “it's a real point though. The second Tobin uses his power he really will be noticed. Same with Jay. Really, the only one of use that can do anything useful to a crowd without being noticed is you Denis.”
Everyone turned to look at him then, and Marcia grinned.
“True enough. That's why, when we can, I want to use Mercy here... Unless you have a better name? I think Gabriel was on the table too and you know, I don't think it's really a girl's name at all. Gabrielle is, like Tobin said, but not Gabe. So, pick one, or give us something better.”
It stuck in his head, making him go still. He'd always had problems with names like that. Itch ha
d kind of been stuck onto him for being so much of a pain. He'd embraced it, because he didn't want to seem weak. The name itself annoyed though, even him. Just hearing himself referred to that way always made him want to scratch a little.
“Crap. I've got nothing at all. Gabriel then. I blame you for this Tobin. If people mock me it's all your fault.”
The green and black skinned man smiled beatifically and agreed.
“Yep, all me.” The small man's eyes narrowed a little, “teach you to throw pain around next time won't it?”
Heh. Maybe it would. Gabriel. Well, that could be worse. At least he didn't sound like something that needed an ointment anymore. Denis nodded and turned all the way around to look at the small man.
“Yeah. Schooled. Again, I'm really sorry and I won't let it happen again. I just wish I knew why it happened in the first place.”
Tobin grinned at him a big thing that didn't show teeth, but still nearly split his face in two. Nodding he shrugged.
“Well, it wasn't pleasant, but I can forgive you. After only a few more months of needling, I mean.”
A bit of rustling came from the front about then. At first no one even looked, since that's where the pilot sat and he probably had drinks or a sandwich with him. A fifth of Jim Beam or whatever small plane pilot's used to pass the time. The flight wasn't a long one but a lot of people really liked their coffee, right? Then the man stood up, wearing a back-pack.
“Sorry, just need to check the door folks. I keep hearing a high pitched sound. Probably nothing. Let's see here...” Walking to the hatch the man in his nice jacket, popped the door and promptly jumped out, not even hesitating for a second.
Fucking hell, Denis thought. It figured though, didn't it?
Stupid commuter planes.
4
“I don't suppose anyone knows how to fly a plane, do they?” Argos said from across the way, his voice a little high pitched and fast. A good question though.
“I can't.” Karen said almost instantly. Her voice sounding worried but not panicked yet.
In about ten seconds it seemed like everyone had admitted they couldn't fly a plane but Denis. He smiled warmly and moved to the pilot's seat. Oh, he couldn't fly a plane at all, but he'd seen a movie where the pilot had died of a heart attack and the airport tower talked the passenger into a safe and secure landing. The secret power of television to the rescue!
Apparently the pilot had seen that movie too however, because the radio was gone. Not just broken, but totally removed, the guy had taken it with him.
What a dick move, Denis thought, trying to go into a meditative state and for once not failing at all. Everything inside of him cleared for a second, then ten. At twenty he remembered to take action and looked around.
“Well, fuck.” He said conversationally, looking at the now empty space. “No radio either. Pretty good plan it looks like. Well...” He had nothing at all to add. Really he hadn't been sure he could figure out the radio in time anyway. They weren't crashing yet or anything at least, thanks to a board that had been put under the steering column.
Crappity crap.
There was a single parachute at least, off to the right. Or, Denis thought it might be one. He'd never even seen one close up before, but it had a likely looking shape, didn't it? That dickhead of a pilot had probably left it to get them to fight with each other over who got it or something.
Prick.
That wasn't a real question at all though, was it? It couldn't be. Not with this crew.
“Marcia! You've jumped out of planes with a chute, right?” He called back, making his voice happy sounding.
“Yeah. Without too... why?”
Denis pointed to the right. “I think this is a chute up here, but it needs to be checked. I don't want anyone to step out and have a bugs bunny thing happen, fucking pots and pans flying out all over the place.” He tried to keep his voice light, but everyone heard him and went still. Right, six people, one parachute. They seemed to get the idea quickly enough too. Five people really, a little fall wouldn't even tickle Marcia.
It took a bit for her to make it to the front, as the plane did start to fly funny as the weight shifted. Making him adjust twice to get it to go straight again. So at least that part might not have been bullshit on the pilot's part. It took her a full minute and she didn't speak loudly when she was done, just a whisper, her voice hoarse.
“It's real and packed well. A ram air chute, so it's an airfoil. A bit delicate to use, but not too bad. It's what I jumped with mainly. An old circle would be easier for you though.” She sounded dark when she said it, sad.
Denis shrugged.
“Yep that sounds right. Get with Karen, she's wearing it out.” He pitched his voice loud enough to be heard in the back. If he just told people what to do, maybe they wouldn't kill each other over the stupid piece of fabric in a sack. “Got that everyone? It's not up for discussion, Karen gets the chute, Lady Glory has to land safely. Marcia is doing it the old fashioned way. Um... Jay?” Denis made the transition calmly, as if he hadn't just proclaimed Lady Glory the most important person on the flight.
It was the truth though and he knew it. They all did. Except possibly her. At the end of this, whoever died, it had better not be Karen. Or Argos for that matter. They were both too famous and popular, it would be too big a feather in the bad guys caps. They could fucking kill him, but he'd steal what he could back from them. So Karen got the chute...
The voice came back fast and hard sounding, as if revving up for a fight or maybe just to die. Fuck that. They really needed him alive too.
“So, you're easily fast enough to swim in the air, right? At least to slow yourself down enough to stick a roll onto the end? Just hop up fine and dandy? Plus you're tough, right? Not armored, but you run at hundreds of miles per hour, so...” Denis made his voice confident, hoping the humble guy wouldn't panic. Or go all noble on them. His first mode didn't make him braver than anyone else, Argos just really thought they were better than he was. Worth more. Everyone. It helped a lot when it was time to decide who had to take out the trash probably, not so much in a situation like this. The guy had to fight now. To live.
“Right, right, right! I can do that. Carl made me do it in fact. Off a tower, but I even practically hovered for a bit. It's hard, but I can do it. Go, go, go!” This whole things came out so fast Denis had to have him repeat himself twice in order to get it.
“Good. Three down, three to go. So Tobin, what can you do here?”
The mumbled reply was soft, so quiet that no one heard him even in the back. It turned out to be a moot point, because Clark asked Tobin what he weighed. The little man whispered his answer but Clark took a deep, highly nervous, breath.
“It'll be freaky close, but I can kind of levitate and carry about half my weight besides. It's a bit of a mental block I guess, but it's all I can do. I'd love to be able to fly, I just can't, but Tobin, he's not big... If I carry him...”
“Fuck that, tie them together Marcia. You can do this, no problem Clark, don't do any pussy hedging now so you look all heroic later. Good. Marcia, Karen... call out a good place, as open as possible and I'll circle, while everyone gets clear. I may need a round or two to practice first. So, everyone ready?”
It made sense in a way.
Argos might not make it, and the Clark-Tobin team was a freaking long shot for sure. Marcia would get up no matter what, but Karen might freak a bit when her friend plummeted past her. Marcia apparently got the idea though and hustled Karen to the door, calling instructions at her the whole time, already strapped in. Then they had to wait to find an open spot, a cleared farm field ended up being their best bet. Taking a deep breath and focusing on nothing but the task at hand kind of helped, though Denis badly needed to pee suddenly. Of course.
Freaking sissy bladder!
Toughen up and don't make me sell you to clowns. He shouted at it internally, as he kicked the board, a piece of unfinished two by two, out from under the st
eering wheel. The steering thing wasn't actually round, having hand holds on either side, in a nice plastic or rubber stuff that gave him a good grip. The center was painted a smooth glossy white.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly he guided the whole craft toward the left, hoping that banking wouldn't just cause it to stall or something. The engine noise didn't change much, and the whole thing didn't dive suddenly, so he made the turn big and resisted fiddling with any other controls. After the second circuit he relaxed and called back.
“Ready everyone? Make sure and live, we need to find that asshole pilot and kick his butt for a few months. Stupid assassins. Always trying to kill people and shit.” He forced a jovial sound into his voice that he didn't feel.
The simple truth was, in this crowd, he was the second most unneeded person right now. The last really, Clark might actually save Tobin after all. So if there was an odd man out in the end. It had to be him. He wanted to live with a passion that was more than his normal greed. Intensely. So passionately it physically hurt, but he wanted the others to live just as much and they might even make it. Fucked up?
Oh yeah.
It was also what had to happen right now. Denis was going to die and nothing they did would stop that. But he could help save the others.
Karen stood at the door, holding to the frame solidly so that Marcia couldn't push her out yet. As if that would really stop the super-strong woman from doing it when the time came.
“Um, Denis, how are you getting down? You should take the chute, I'll just-” Marcia gave her a shove and yelled at her.
“Pull the cord!” Then they waited for a bit, five seconds, maybe ten. “She's good! OK, me next I guess. See you all on the ground. Remember the rule everyone, no dying on company time. Geronimo.” All of this was said with a tense tone to her voice. She gave Denis a hard look, and nodded to him as if trying to say she got what he was doing. That made one of them then, because he hadn't really let himself process it at all. The power of Zen, not thinking.
