Karma Girl

by Jennifer Estep

  Something Johnny had said before echoed in my mind. “He told me once that the only thing he and his father ever argued about was his taking over part of the family business. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but he must have been talking about becoming Johnny Angel.”

  “But now he is Angel,” Lulu pointed out. “And we know what he wants.”

  “To kill Siren and Intelligal for murdering his father,” I replied.

  Chief Newman put his hand on mine. “Fiona, I know Johnny is your...special friend, but we can’t let him kill Siren and Intelligal. That’s not how we do things around here. We put ubervillains behind bars. We don’t execute them. Just because we have superpowers doesn’t mean that we’re above the law. And neither is Angel.”

  “I know,” I said in a low tone. “We’ve got to stop him. No matter what.”

  “No matter how much you might like him,” my father said in a kind tone. “No matter how much you think you might come to care for him.”

  “I do.” I rubbed my aching head. “I do care for him. And that makes this whole thing suck even more.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  We sat there in silence, each of us digesting this latest secret-identity exposé.

  And a loud bell blared out.

  Henry jumped like Siren had just electrified him with a couple thousand volts. I thought his polka-dot bow tie would pop right off his neck, along with his plaid sweater vest. Henry punched buttons on one of his many computers. His fingers flashed over the keyboard faster than Swifte zipping down the freeway.

  “I’ve got them!” he said. “I’ve got Siren and Intelligal!”

  We clustered around his computer.

  “Where? Where are they?” I asked.

  Henry punched some more keys. “They’re downtown. Right next to Oodles o’ Stuff.”

  Oodles o’ Stuff was the shopping center of shopping centers in Bigtime. The mall of malls. The store of stores. The multistoried building had more levels than a wedding cake and featured everything from clothes to jewelry to makeup to consumer electronics. The only thing I didn’t like about the store were its subbasements, where last season’s Fiona Fine originals could be had for up to seventy-five percent off. Oodles’ extreme sales cut into my profit margins far more than I liked.

  “What would they be doing there?” I asked. “They wouldn’t be dumb enough to try to rob the place, would they?”

  Like Quicke’s, Oodles was considered neutral territory for everyone in Bigtime. After all, even villains had to shop for essentials from time to time—namely, boots, masks, stilettos, and neon, sequined spandex. Oodles carried all of the above in large quantities.

  But the owners of Oodles weren’t stupid. They knew better than to rely on the kindness of ubervillains—or your average shoplifter. The store had one of the best security systems in Bigtime. Guards, dogs, lasers, cameras, steel doors, ink-filled security tags. Not to mention the superheroes who shopped there during regular business hours. Oodles had more security than some of the banks in town.

  Then again, Siren could charm just about anybody out of just about anything she wanted to in record time. Oodles’ security wouldn’t faze her or Intelligal a bit.

  “Well, Swifte did stop them from taking everyone’s jewels at the wedding, and Oodles has more jewelry than anyone else in town,” Lulu pointed out. “Maybe Siren and Intelligal need to stock up on diamonds or something. There were gems all along the border of their radio device.”

  “I don’t know why they’re there,” Henry said, still typing. “But they’ve been popping up in and around the area for a couple of days now. Maybe they’ve set up shop somewhere downtown. Intelligal must have figured out how I found them last time, because she masked the exhaust system on her chair. But I locked in on that strange gas she gave you guys. It contained a small amount of a very rare radioactive isotope that I was able to track through the atmosphere—”

  I held up my hand. “Enough of the geek talk. It doesn’t matter what they’re doing at Oodles, only that we’ve tracked them down. Let’s go.” I took a deep breath. “Before Johnny Angel beats us to them.”

  *

  Ten minutes later, we were suited up and in the van. Hermit zoomed out of the underground garage and raced through the empty streets.

  Worries and fears rattled around inside my head like electrified dice. Siren and Intelligal were deadly enough on their own, but now we had Johnny Bulluci aka Johnny Angel to worry about. What would I do if Angel showed up? What would I do if he tried to kill the ubervillains? Or worse yet, tried to hurt one of us for getting in his way? I didn’t know the answers to my troubling questions.

  My father leaned over and took my hand. “Don’t worry, Fiera. It will work out all right in the end. You’ll see.”

  I squeezed his hand, comforted as always by his cheerful, optimistic calm.

  “Mr. Sage is right. We might not even see Angel tonight,” Hermit called out from the driver’s seat. “I was only able to trace the ubervillains by using my radioactive isotope tracker. Angel’s not exactly known for his technological devices.”

  I brightened. “So he probably can’t even track them on his own. Excellent.”

  “Unless he’s watching for us,” Lulu piped up. “The van’s pretty easy to spot. If I were Angel, I wouldn’t even try to find Siren and Intelligal on my own. I’d just be looking out for the Fearless Five. Because where you guys are, ubervillains are sure to follow.”

  My good mood vanished, and I glared at her. “You’re not helping.”

  “Well, forgive me for thinking.”

  We rode in silence the rest of the way. Since it was so late, downtown was largely deserted, and Hermit was able to park right in front of Oodles. Normally, at this time of night, steel bars and shutters would have covered the store’s plate-glass windows, along with the revolving doors that led inside. But the bars were up, and light spilled out from the building. Siren and Intelligal were here all right. Ubervillains were always so brazen when it came to strong-arm robberies.

  “Same procedure as before?” I asked. “You boys in the back, me in the front?”

  Mr. Sage nodded. “You’ve got it. And Hermit and I have whipped up something special for tonight, just in case Intelligal decides to spread some more of her gas around.” He held up a small, white pill.

  I took the pill and gulped it down. “So this will keep me from having gas?” I snickered.

  Lulu groaned. Hermit rolled his eyes. Mr. Sage just smiled.

  “Oh, come on, Lulu,” I said. “It’s not any worse than the corny puns you come up with.”

  “That was terrible, Fiera,” Lulu said. “Absolutely terrible.”

  “Yes, this will keep you from being affected by the gas,” Hermit said. “It absorbs the gas before it gets into your bloodstream, sort of like an RID pill. But it only works for about twenty minutes. Mr. Sage and I haven’t come up with a permanent solution yet.”

  “And it will probably only work half as long for you, Fiera,” my father added. “Maybe even less, given your rapid metabolism.”

  “You know you could make millions from flatulent Americans if you could perfect it.”

  No one responded. Ah well. Some people just didn’t have the vision I did. While Mr. Sage and Hermit ate their pills, Lulu gave us all earpieces and activated the cameras in the F5 insignias on our suits. Then, it was time to get out and about and see if we could catch us a couple of ubervillains hell-bent on destruction, world domination, and the like.

  Mr. Sage and Hermit ran around to the back of the building. I marched over to the first door I saw and shoved through it, not even bothering to be quiet or sneaky. I wanted to get this over and done with before Angel showed up. I didn’t want to face Johnny just yet. Not until I figured out how I really felt about him. And how big an obstacle our secret identities were going to be to our blossoming relationship. With Travis, it had been so easy. We’d both known who we were when the lights went out, and we’d both b
een on the same side. But things wouldn’t be that simple with Johnny and me. Not by a long shot.

  A couple of large, vicious-looking Dobermans lay inside the door. At least, they would have been vicious-looking if they weren’t snoring like lumberjacks and piled on top of each other like puppies. Ten feet behind the dogs, four guards slumped against counters full of designer handbags. They, too, were sleeping, and slightly goofy smiles curved their lips.

  I sniffed. The sweet, sickening stench of the ubervillains’ gas lingered in the air, although there was a slightly more floral aroma to it this time, almost like jasmine. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Siren and Intelligal had used the blue gas or some variation of it to knock out the guards and dogs. At least they hadn’t killed them.

  “Hey, guys, I found the dogs and the guards. At least, the ones on this side of the building.” I pointed the camera in my suit at the snoring piles so Lulu could get a look at them. “Everyone seems to be having sweet dreams.”

  “They’ll be all right,” Lulu squawked in my ear. “They have good, steady vital signs, and according to our analysis, the gas gets flushed out of people’s bodies pretty quickly. They’ll probably just sleep for a couple of hours. Keep going, Fiera.”

  The first floor contained women’s clothes and accessories, from lacy lingerie to simple socks to stern business suits to slick panty hose. Even though the store had closed only a few minutes ago at midnight, all the clothes hung neatly from the racks, and the sweaters, shirts, and other items were folded and stacked on wooden tables in tidy piles. The staff at Oodles prided itself on making sure everything was meticulously arranged and easy to find.

  I was happy to note that some of my goods, including my latest collection of affordable cocktail dresses, were prominently featured in a display near the middle of the first floor. I stopped to straighten a mannequin’s wayward spaghetti strap and continued on. I walked up to one of the many maps located throughout the store. My eyes scanned over the diagrams and lists of products and services available on each floor. If I were Siren and Intelligal, where would I go? What would I need to complete my scheme for world domination? I thought back to the device I’d seen in the abandoned warehouse and the spare bits of metal that had been lying around. Parts. That’s what I’d need.

  “I’m heading up to the third floor, where the consumer electronics are,” I said to the others.

  “Roger that,” Mr. Sage replied in a tinny voice. “Hermit and I will go up to the fifth floor, where the jewelry’s located.”

  I headed for the nearest escalator and walked up a flight of frozen steps. The second floor was devoted to home goods, like kitchen appliances, bedding, and shower curtains. I resisted the urge to see how many of my new linens were left on the shelves and climbed the next flight of stopped stairs.

  The staff at Oodles was also known for its marketing savvy, which was why the third floor was split between menswear and consumer electronics, with electronics taking up the majority of the space. Someone had realized long ago that men were far more likely to drop a couple thousand dollars on plasma-screen TVs instead of business suits.

  “I’m on three. I’m heading in,” I whispered to the others.

  “Be careful,” Hermit whispered back to me.

  I slid behind a row of suits and headed for the electronics side of the floor. I stopped every few feet, looking and listening, but all I could hear was the hum of the air-conditioning system, and the others breathing in my ear. I wandered through the rows of televisions, computers, and digital cameras, searching for the ubervillains and exchanging hushed updates with the rest of the gang. After a few minutes of searching, I found the ubervillains’ spur-of-the-moment lair.

  It was the same setup as before. Someone had shoved a cash register and displays of chocolate bars off a long counter to make way for the strange, radio-like device. Lots of tools and blueprints and papers were also strewn about the area, and more electronic junk sat in a shopping cart. I picked up something that looked like a subwoofer for a speaker. Maybe the villains were getting into the car stereo installation business. I tossed it aside.

  “You getting this, Lulu?” I asked.

  “Yep, but focus on the blueprints this time,” Lulu chirped in my ear. “I’ve got plenty of pictures of the actual device from the other night.”

  I did as she asked, pointing my chest and the camera hidden there at the writings and scribblings and schematics on the counter.

  “Interesting. It seems to be some sort of sound device,” Lulu murmured.

  I snorted. “I could have told you that. The thing looks like a giant radio.”

  I wandered among the debris, getting pictures of everything for Lulu. Siren and Intelligal were nowhere to be found. They must have been supremely confident to leave their doomsday device sitting here by itself. Or supremely stupid. It was all the same when it came to ubervillains. Besides me, the only thing that was talking was a television set tuned to SNN, where Erica Songe preened for the camera.

  When I was done taking images for Lulu, I went back to the radio-looking gizmo and reared back my fist.

  “Shall I smash it to bits?” I asked the others.

  “Why don’t you just stand guard over it?” Hermit suggested. “I’d love to take a look at the device and see some of Intelligal’s handiwork. The ubervillains aren’t up here on the fifth floor, although there seems to be some jewelry missing. We’ll be down in a minute.”

  I rolled my eyes. Hermit was such a technology nerd. But I did as he asked, leaning against a display filled with the newest laser-jet printers. I opened my mouth to tell him to double-time it when a mechanical whir sounded above Erica Songe’s voice. Intelligal floated into view.

  The two of us stared at each other.

  “You again! Can’t you go set yourself on fire or something?” Intelligal muttered.

  I didn’t bother responding. That was another comment I’d heard about a thousand times. Instead, I grabbed the biggest printer I saw off one of the tables and hurled it at the ubervillain. The action surprised her, and she didn’t have time to get her force field up before the printer smacked into the bottom of the chair.

  The plastic case shattered, and parts pinged everywhere, along with a good amount of colored ink. Intelligal fumbled for her controls. The chair spun round and round like a child’s top before slamming into a thick, metal support beam and sliding to the floor. A bit of smoke spewed out from the back of the trunk, like a car with a coughing fit.

  The impact threw Intelligal out of her seat, and she hit a counter hard before sliding off. She sprawled on the floor, and I stood over her. The ubervillain looked small and sad and lost without her massive, gadget-filled chair. She stared up at me, her eyes dark and unreadable behind her thick, black glasses.

  Someone started to clap.

  I turned. Johnny Angel stood behind me, looking dangerous in his head-to-toe black leather. My heart sank. Where had he come from?

  “Very nicely done,” he said.

  “What are you doing here?” I snapped. “Are you following us?”

  Angel tipped his head. “Guilty as charged, I’m afraid. I saw your van outside and couldn’t resist following you. Now, if you’ll just step aside, I’ll finish the job you so elegantly started. I owe the old Angel that much.” His voice twisted with guilt, and I knew that Angel, that Johnny, was thinking of his father.

  I looked at Intelligal. The ubervillain blanched and scooted backward on her heels, like a crab scrabbling along a sandy beach. She bumped into a glass counter and stopped, trapped. She didn’t have any powers without her ruined chair; otherwise she would have used them on me. Right now, Intelligal was as helpless as any other Bigtime citizen. My heart heavy, I turned back to Angel.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” I said. “It’s my duty to turn her over to the police.”

  “And it’s my duty to avenge my predecessor, no matter what. Now, get out of my way.” Angel took a step for
ward. His hands curled into fists. “Don’t make me hurt you to get to her.”

  “I can’t let you kill her so you can take your revenge. I’m in the business of stopping ubervillains, not murdering them.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I don’t have such qualms.”

  Angel marched straight at me. I knew he wasn’t going to stop. Not when I was standing between him and Intelligal. Angel wouldn’t stop. Neither would Johnny Bulluci. It was my bad fortune they were one and the same.

  And that I was Fiera, member of the Fearless Five. Protector of the innocent. Defender of democracy. Superhero du jour. I couldn’t just let Angel murder Intelligal, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much she might deserve it. My duty, my code of honor as a superhero, wouldn’t let me.

  So, I slow-pitched a fireball at him, making sure to give him enough time to defend himself. Angel stopped and flexed, his skin taking on a hard, chiseled look. The liquid ball of heat hissed through the air and exploded on his chest. Angel’s jacket and T-shirt disintegrated into ash. On the bright side, that gave me an eyeful of nicely toned man-flesh. On the dark side, it didn’t slow him down a bit.

  Smoke boiled in the store, setting off the fire alarms. Sprinklers dropped down from the ceiling and spewed out a puffy, white, heat-and flame-retardant foam. Oodles had contingency plans for just about everything, including a superhero-ubervillain battle in the middle of the store. It had happened before when Gentleman George and the Dapper Duke both wanted the same silk ascot. George had won, but by the time the fire was out, the ascot had been reduced to ash.

  Angel laughed and tapped his chest. It sounded like metal ringing. “Superstrong exoskeleton, remember? Your fireballs won’t hurt me a bit, but I’ll forgive you for that one, Fiera.”

  I looked back at the ubervillain. Intelligal had flopped over on her hands and knees and started crawling around the counter. Sweat poured down her face, and a bit of blood darkened the side of her silver suit. She must have injured herself when the chair hit the support beam.