by Lucas Flint
As soon as we appeared, however, the three agents looked in our direction, but they didn’t seem surprised to see us, even though we teleported directly into their office. I supposed that Phobia must have told them ahead of time of our arrival here. Either that or they saw far stranger things working for the Department of Superpowered & Extraterrestrial Beings on a regular basis than a bunch of supers teleporting into their office like that.
“Are you Bolt?” said one of the agents. He was a blond-haired young man in his twenties wearing thick glasses.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m here for my interview with Phobia. Is he still in?”
The agent nodded. “Yes, he is. He’s in his office over there.”
The agent pointed to an office door on the other side of the room, with Phobia’s name stenciled onto the fogged glass.
“He gets his own office?” said Blizzard. She looked at the agent. “Why don’t the rest of you guys have your own office?”
The agent snorted. “I know, right? But please don’t tell Phobia I said that. He doesn’t like it when we complain about, well, anything.”
I nodded, but couldn’t shake the thought that that told me everything I needed to know about Phobia. He might not have been a high-ranking G-Man, but I guess he felt like he deserved to be a little tyrant now that he has some people under his authority.
We walked over to his office door and I knocked on it once and immediately heard Phobia say, “Enter,” so I opened the door and stepped inside.
Phobia’s office was rather small, but it didn’t feel claustrophobic. A window behind Phobia was open, letting in the cool morning breeze, which also provided enough light by which to see. A ceiling fan above us was on, spinning at a gentle pace, while a bookshelf off to the side was full of the most random assortment of books and documents I had ever seen, along with a few knickknacks, such as a gnome. Phobia himself sat behind his desk, typing on a laptop, but when we entered, he stopped typing, closed his laptop, and looked up at us.
“I see you made it on time,” said Phobia. “I assume you didn’t have any trouble finding your way here?”
“None at all, given that we teleported here,” I said. “But what’s up with the open office plan? Your agents don’t seem to like it.”
Phobia frowned. “Technically, this isn’t our office. We are just renting it out until we capture the Neo-Killer. The government is paying rent and utilities, so while it’s not the best office space I’ve ever worked in, it will do for now.”
“Right,” I said. I looked around the office again. “So where are we all supposed to sit—?”
“Oh, I just want to talk to you alone,” said Phobia. He nodded at Blizzard and Vanish. “You two can sit outside. This interview is confidential. Only Bolt and I are supposed to be present for the interview.”
“But—” Blizzard said.
“It’s fine, Blizz,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I doubt this interview will take too long. You and Vanish can just wait outside. I’ll be back out before you know it.”
Blizzard frowned, but then she nodded and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before walking out of the office with Vanish. As soon as the two women left the room, I sat down on the single chair in front of Phobia’s office and looked at him. “All right, Phobia, I’m ready to start the interview when you are.”
“Yes, of course,” said Phobia. “But before we start, was that young girl in the white hood Blizzard?”
I frowned. “Yeah. She’s my girlfriend. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” said Phobia with a shrug. “I just didn’t realize she was here in Showdown. Director Smith told me you were here by yourself.”
“I am,” I said. “She’s just visiting for a couple of days because she’s worried about the Neo-Killer. She wants to make sure I’m safe.”
Phobia chuckled. “My wife is just like her. She became very worried when I told her that I was tracking down a serial killer who specializes in targeting superhumans. She thought I might be his next victim.”
“She’s not wrong,” I said. “If this Neo-Killer guy knows you’re after him—”
“Don’t worry about me,” said Phobia, interrupting me. “The Neo-Killer already knows we’re after him. He just doesn’t care. Otherwise, he would have gone into hiding, rather than continue his cross-country murder spree.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” I said doubtfully. “Still, what makes you think he won’t attack this office?”
“We have good security,” said Phobia simply. “Anyway, let’s move onto the interview. I have a lead to investigate today, so I can’t spend too much time talking to you.”
I leaned back in my chair, my arms hanging by my side. “What do you want to know? I already told you everything that happened to me back in that bakery. I haven’t seen the Neo-Killer since then, so I don’t know where he might be or what he is possibly doing.”
“We are aware of that,” said Phobia, “but I wanted to ask you a few questions just in case you overlooked a crucial detail. First, can you tell us what the Neo-Killer looked like?”
“Why do you need to know that?” I said, tilting my head to the side.
“Because we haven’t actually seen the Neo-Killer ourselves,” Phobia replied. “And on the few occasions he’s been caught on camera, he’s worn a different outfit every time. We suspect he changes clothes frequently in order to make it harder for the government to identify him, a tactic which has worked quite well so far, as you can tell.”
I thought about Phobia’s question for a moment, trying to pull up the memories of that night in the bakery. “He was pretty big and muscular. He wore tactical military-style gear. Looked kind of like a soldier, but he wore an expressionless face mask that made it impossible for me to see his face. I have no idea what he looks like under the mask and I definitely don’t know how he was able to see through it, because his mask didn’t seem to have any eye holes that I could see.”
Phobia stroked his chin. “That fits with another description of someone that a witness recently spoke to us about. An anonymous tipster reported seeing a man in tactical military gear just outside of the Braindome yesterday at around midnight. She thought he was just a security guard or police officer until he suddenly jumped into a car and left.”
I sat up straight. “You mean the Neo-Killer was right outside the Braindome last night and we didn’t even know it? Did you guys find his car?”
“We did,” said Phobia, nodding. “This morning, as a matter of fact … well, the remains of it, anyway. The Neo-Killer must have blown it into pieces because that was all we could find of it.”
“He really doesn’t want to be found, huh?” I said.
“Yes,” said Phobia. “Whoever he is, he must be very skilled to have evaded capture from the federal government for so long. I suspect that he must have military training of some sort, though when you consider how many military vets live in this country, that doesn’t help narrow down the suspects much.”
“So the Neo-Killer knows where I am,” I said. “That’s bad.”
“But not unexpected,” said Phobia. “So long as he doesn’t figure out how to break in, you should be safe.”
“I guess so,” I said. “I hope you guys capture him soon because I’m getting tired of hiding from him.”
“Don’t worry,” said Phobia. “Showdown may be a big city, but it still has a defined area. We’ll find him eventually, and sooner rather than later, I think. He can’t hide forever.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t so sure I believed him. Whoever the Neo-Killer was, he was clearly very competent at his job. I had a feeling that the Neo-Killer would only be found when he wanted to be found and not a second sooner.
“Now, then,” said Phobia as he shuffled his papers, “let’s move on to—”
I heard something fly through the air with a soft thwip and Phobia suddenly grabbed at his neck.
“Phobia?” I said. “Are you all right?”
“
I … I think so,” said Phobia. His eyes suddenly drooped. “Must have been a bug … but I feel so sleepy …”
Phobia’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he suddenly fell face first onto the table.
“Phobia?” I said. I leaned forward and nudged him with my hand. “Phobia, are you all right? Can you hear me? Phobia?”
But Phobia didn’t respond. He was still breathing, but his breath was very shallow and his skin felt cold to the touch. He seemed to be knocked out of cold, and I instantly spotted the reason why: A feathered dart was sticking out of the side of his neck, right where he had grabbed his neck before he lost consciousness. It was a very small dart, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it, but it was definitely there. It must have come through the open window, which meant someone in a nearby building must have shot it.
I looked over my shoulder and shouted, “Blizzard, Vanish! Phobia’s been knocked out! I need help!”
But I didn’t hear any response from anyone. Puzzled, I stood up and walked over to the door. I tried to open it, only to discover that the door was locked. That made no sense. Who could have locked the door?
I was about to use my super strength to break the lock when I suddenly smelled something coming from underneath the door. Puzzled, I crouched low to the foot of the door and smelled a distinctive rotten stink, which I would have mistaken for no other stink even if I hadn’t seen the wisps of yellow gas entering under the door.
Powerless gas. Someone had filled the entire G-Men office with powerless gas … and Blizzard and Vanish were right in the middle of it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rising to my full height, I wasn’t sure what to do. If I broke the door down, that would just cause the powerless gas to fill the office, which would hurt both me and Phobia. On the other hand, if I didn’t, the gas would eventually leak in through the ventilation system or the cracks in the door. Either way, this office would soon be full of the gas and it would render me powerless.
I needed to contact Brains and the police to let them know what was happening here. And, if necessary, I could just fly through the open window to safety, though I hated the idea of abandoning Blizzard and Vanish for any reason.
Tapping my earcom, I said, “Val, contact Brains and the police and tell them that someone has filled the G-Men’s Showdown office with powerless gas and we need backup.”
But Valerie did not respond, prompting me to tap my earcom again and say, “Val, are you there? Did you hear what I said? The G-Men’s office in downtown Showdown has been filled with powerless gas and—”
“Valerie can’t hear you right now,” said a harsh voice behind me. “No one can hear you right now … except for me.”
I whirled around. My heart failed me at the sight of the man standing behind the office desk, a long, sharp knife rested against Phobia’s neck. It was the Neo-Killer, who looked no different from the last time I saw him. But since it was day, I could see him better and noticed that he carried all sorts of weapons on his body. He also seemed to be at least a head taller than me, though that might have been because of the heavy boots he wore.
“You,” I said. “How did you get in?”
The Neo-Killer gestured with his head at the open window. “Climbed in through the window. Not very difficult. I climbed Mount Everest once, so scaling a two-story building was like taking a walk in the park.”
“And what did you mean about Valerie not being able to hear me?” I said. “Did you do something to my earcom?”
“Yeah,” said the Neo-Killer, nodding. He seemed disturbingly calm despite how serious this situation was. “I am well aware of your annoying little AI assistant and how much you depend on her for support. So I used a jamming device I found in one of your old man’s Vaults to ensure she would not be able to contact you while you are in here.”
I stiffened. So the Neo-Killer had stolen weapons from Dad’s Vaults. Was he the ‘Jake Johnson’ in Vault B’s visitation records? He must have used it as a false alias so anyone looking at the records later wouldn’t know who he really was.
My eyes darted to the open window. “What’s to stop me from just flying out the window and reconnecting with Valerie?”
“I suppose you could do that, but you won’t,” said the Neo-Killer. He ran the knife slowly along the surface of Phobia’s skin. “Because if you do, I’ll kill this piece of super scum and his blood will be on your hands.”
My eyes returned to the Neo-Killer’s faceplate. “Why didn’t you just shoot a can of powerless gas into this office and take me out that way? Why fill the rest of the office with that gas except for this room?”
The Neo-Killer tilted his head to the side. “The powerless gas I filled the rest of the office with is a special concoction created by yours truly. Normally, powerless gas isn’t poisonous, but I modified mine to poison whoever breathes it as well as de-power them. It even works on normal humans, like those three agents who work for this guy. Haven’t you wondered why you haven’t heard from anyone since you realized that the office has been gassed?”
My eyes widened .”You mean to say—”
“That’s right,” said the Neo-Killer with a chuckle. “Every person in this office is going to die, including your girlfriend and that vile witch known as Vanish. Oh, it fills me with such joy knowing that at least two superhumans are going to die today, but with any luck, I’ll be able to bump that number up to at least four, maybe five if Brains shows up to save the day.”
“But not everyone here is even a superhuman,” I said. “Murder is always bad, but you’re not even murdering the right targets.”
The Neo-Killer snorted. “So? I don’t just hate superhumans, kid. I hate those traitors who work with them. Some days, I can’t decide who should get the bullet first: The superhumans who cause death and destruction everywhere they go or the traitors who think hunting you genetic monstrosities down like deer would be too cruel. Today, however, I’ll kill about an equal number of supers and traitors, so it’s not an issue.”
“You’re insane,” I said. “Superhumans aren’t ‘genetic monstrosities.’ We’re human beings just like you. Murder is always wrong.”
“Murder is only murder when applied to humans,” said the Neo-Killer. “And I’m not entirely convinced you superhumans really are humans. Personally, I think you’re genetic defects, though I imagine most of you see yourselves as gods.”
“I’m not a genetic defect or a god,” I said. “You’re just crazy.”
The Neo-Killer laughed. “Crazy? I’m crazy for doing what someone else should have done a long time ago? Kid, are you even aware of all of the chaos and destruction your kind have caused since you guys exploded like rabbits over thirty years ago? Destroyed cities, ruined environments, countless deaths, untold property damage caused by your fights in the streets—”
“Supervillains are a problem,” I said, “I agree, but—”
“It isn’t just the bad guys, kid,” said the Neo-Killer. He gestured at me. “All superhumans—’heroes’ or ‘villains’—create chaos and destruction wherever they go. Traitors and cowards try to falsely distinguish between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ supers, but in the end, you are all a threat to humanity and the world. In the name of humanity, your kind must die. It is the only way we will survive.”
I was at a loss for words. The Neo-Killer’s rambling was even crazier than I thought. I didn’t think superhumans were necessarily ‘more evolved’ than ordinary humans, per se, but I never thought we were genetic inferiors, either. It made me wonder if the Neo-Killer really thought through anything he said or if he was just ranting and raving like a lunatic. I was starting to lean toward him being a lunatic, honestly.
Then the Neo-Killer suddenly pointed at me. “You, Bolt, though … you’re the worst of them all.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I am? You do realize I’ve literally saved the world more than once, right?”
“You may have saved the world, but did you save people?” the Neo-K
iller said. His voice suddenly took a far more emotional turn and he sounded close to tears. “You supers are so focused on saving the ‘world’ that you never stop to pay attention to all of the damage you’re causing around you. Or all of the lives who have been ruined by your actions, the cities which have been destroyed thanks to your idiocy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said. “I haven’t destroyed any cities.”
The Neo-Killer chuckled bitterly. “Can’t say I am surprised by that. As I said, you supers are so obsessed with the big picture that all of the small things just escape your notice. I guess a god really doesn’t have time to pay attention to the mortals who bow at his feet, huh?”
“You’re just saying random crud now to confuse me,” I said. “I don’t know what you’re upset about, but—”
“Upset? Me?” said the Neo-Killer. “I’m not upset about anything, kid. I just want you—and every last one of your fellow supers, heroes, villains, or otherwise—dead.”
The Neo-Killer suddenly pulled a gun out of his belt and fired it at me in one smooth motion. A powerless pellet struck my chest and sent me stumbling back into the door. I gasped and inhaled some of the powerless gas, making me cough and hack as the disgusting yellow gas entered my body.
The Neo-Killer rushed toward me and punched me in the face. Taken by surprise, I fell down, but he grabbed me by the collar of my suit and slammed me so hard against the door that the window cracked behind me. He then began punching me in the face over and over again, each blow coming harder and harder than the last, not giving me any time to react. For what seemed like an eternity, all I could see was the Neo-Killer’s fist as it crashed into my face again and again. I even thought I felt my nose break, but he hit me so hard and so often that my senses were all confused.
