Secrets of a D-List Supervillain (2 page)

Superhero community 1—Power mongering politicians 0, well at least for the time being. Even I’m not daft enough to think there won’t be a rematch.

“Ah, to hell with it!” Stacy declares and spreads her hands out. “I didn’t come here to fight. You five seem like you’ve got the angles covered. If it wasn’t for your unsanctioned team, Lazarus would have killed me in San Fran. That gives you a pass in my books. Let me know if you need my help and we can probably do something on the sly.”

Wendy pauses for a moment and then nods. “Thank you, Aphrodite. We can probably do a limited amount of information sharing. We’re monitoring VillainNet through the jobs Bobby is being offered, but we don’t really care how many banks E.M. Pulsive has robbed this month. We’re more interested in stopping the next World Domination scheme. That brings me back to my earlier point. The Apostle isn’t going to be the next one trying to take over the world, but he’s going to be someone that The Evil Overlord, or whomever else, will need, in order to do it. Getting Bobby’s foot in that door might get us closer to the big fishes. It’s really up to you in the end, Bobby. Think it over today and get back to us tomorrow morning. I don’t have anything else for anyone, so let’s call it a day.”

“Fair enough,” Bobby says and stands up. “With the water in the pond so low, there oughtta be some good fishing. Wanna come, Larry?”

The telekinetic shakes his head and goes to grab a six-pack from the fridge. “Used to cut school and go down to the fishing hole all the...” Larry trails off, stopping for a second before finishing, “Nah, I guess that shit never happened. Damn memories! All right, Bobby let’s go catch some fish.”

There is no chance in hell of me being confused for humanitarian of the year, but I did feel bad for the poor lunk. The loss of over 20 years of his life to his guilt and powers, as his mind continuously forced Larry to relive his high school years, over and over again. Helping him out is one of the items on the short list of things I’ve done that the world at large might support.

On the plus side, he can play every instrument taught in both orchestra and band. With me on the drums, Bobby playing the guitar, and Larry on the violin, we can give you a pretty good rendition of
Point of No Return
by Kansas. Andy does the lead vocals until we locate a singer, but he’s too perfect. To a wannabe musician like me, it’s a greater transgression than auto-tune.

I just can’t tell him that!

“Are you leaving Gab-Gab?”

“Assuming you can watch her, Cal. Are you capable of that?”

Before replying, I muse,
I definitely made her sound too nice in the book.
“Of course I can, Wendy. Quit being nasty. Why don’t you go see that Paper Tiger guy you’re so into?”

“Maybe I will,” Wendy says. “Maybe I’ll start bringing him around here, too.”

Yeah, I’ve about had it with her attitude.
“Look, I didn’t know Stacy would get her memories back. She could’ve shown up here with her entire team in tow, but she didn’t, because she came to see me.”

My leader gives me a death glare worthy of Blazing She-Clops and says, “I’m out! I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

A forceful jet of air carries her over to the recently built secondary entrance shaft while scattering papers, empty beer cans, and everything else all over the place. An updraft propels her out of sight and forces me to open and close my mouth a couple of times to adjust to the sudden pressure change.

“I don’t think America’s sweetheart likes me,” the remaining female says, after the air current dies down. “Are you sure Wendy isn’t hung up on you?”

“That’s just the wishful thinking of all those people who read the book. It’s an unintended consequence of me being too nice to her when I wrote it. In my defense, she did have my bun in her oven at the time. If I had to guess what was behind that outburst, it would be that she thinks I’ll start being less of a father to Gabby if you’re back in my life.”

“Because that’s one of the traits I really look for in a guy,” Stacy says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do people really think I’m that shallow?”

I’m already picking up everything Wendy’s exit kicked up. “Probably comes with the territory of being the Love Goddess. However, it was more directed at me and how shallow she thinks
I am
. Mind giving me a hand, and then I’ll introduce you to the most important girl in my life.”

As Stacy starts to help, I reflect that while I’m not nearly as superficial as Wendy fears, I’m also not nearly as deep as I pretend to be. My heart of gold is closer to pyrite than the real thing, but now I’m going to make damn sure I’m a great father if, for no other reason, than to rub Wendy’s nose in it.

After all, she keeps saying how she’s the most mature member of this team. I shouldn’t disappoint her.

• • •

“She’s adorable,” Stacy says with my one year old bouncing on her knee. Gabby seems to be at ease with the Olympian... or she has gas. It could be both.

Reaching over, I run my fingers through the young one’s fine black hair. “Her looks are from Wendy. Best I can tell is that she got her digestive tract from me. The girl can really fill a diaper.”

“Any signs of powers?” She goes straight for the million dollar question.

“Nothing yet, but Wendy’s didn’t show until she was eight.”

“So, what’s going on with her and Paper Tiger?”

Paper Tiger is a sketch artist with the power to possess and animate his sketches, so long as they are of a tiger. They can be Flying Tigers, Ninja Tigers, or even Robotigers. He has sketches in places all over the world and can be on any continent in seconds.

“When her mother hired Paper Tiger to be Wendy’s bodyguard during the final months of her pregnancy, people started talking. Wendy was going to go ahead and quit the Gulf Coast Guardians, but changed her mind when Paper Tiger joined that team and she just went to being a reserve member. I’m pretty sure there’s more going on than just talk between them. Wendy knows his real identity and has gone to see him, wherever he lives. Actually, he’s a helluva a scout, and I wouldn’t mind him on this squad eventually.”

“I don’t know much about the man,” Stacy says, fishing the pacifier from the folds of her coveralls and putting it back in Gabby’s mouth. I could see the gleam in my daughter’s eyes as she immediately spit it out again. “We have one of his drawings in Mount Olympus, and he went out with us a couple of times as backup. Not exactly a heavy hitter, but pretty good in his own right.”

She echoes my opinion of the dude. Of course, I’m not that far removed from the D-List where I’d be looking down at a guy on the B-List. Wendy likes him and that makes her less interested in getting all up in my business. I consider that a win for both of us. “Yeah, so you really want to know how all this happened? It’s better as a mystery, trust me.”

Aphrodite laughs and plays the pacifier game again. “Well, you’re not planning on writing another book are you?”

Grimacing, I shake my head. “No. I’m hanging up my pen.”

“Well then, I’m the only one you’re revealing this to, so spill.”

“All right then, let’s see. Where should I begin? I guess I should start right after my armor got turned to stone.”

Kicking the dinosaur’s body didn’t serve any real purpose; it was pretty obvious that thing was dead, but it did make me feel slightly better, because he’d turned my armor to stone. Hell! If there was more left of Tyrannosorcerer Rex’s head, I’d have been sorely tempted to cut it off and mount it on a wall at the headquarters. Given the current state of my team, I actually didn’t think they’d mind.

In the dirt, near where second base would normally go, was Kimodo’s body—no more alive than this piece of shit. A hunk of flesh roughly the size of the grapefruit was missing from the area where her heart would normally be. Everyone, including me, had assumed she was another Manglermal. Instead, Kim Lemoine turned out to be a grad student from LSU who’d been transformed into a human reptile hybrid by the same magic that almost did us in. Truth be told, I didn’t like her and thought she wasn’t cut out for this line of work. In retrospect, I had been partially right and equally wrong at the same time.

That’s the story of my life
; I thought and kicked old Rexxie one last time. The few people who’d shaken off the effects of the transformation flitted like hummingbirds from one patient to the next while waiting for emergency responders to arrive. My desperation tactic had saved the day, but left at least one death and numerous injuries in its wake. In the old “villain” days, there’d be a press release and I’d jump up on the most wanted list. Now that I was a “hero,” there would still be a press release, but the spin would say how hard the team worked to minimize all the suffering.  Two sides of the same coin, if you asked me.

Instead of heading to the outfield with my limited first aid skills, I left it to the others and walked toward the foul ball area between first base and the dugout, looking for the wreckage from my hoverdrone. I moved cautiously, taking care to avoid any of the fragments of the destroyed portal that killed both the dinosaur and Kimodo—no telling what that magic would do to any part of me that touched it. After She-Dozer ripped me out of the statue that my armor had turned into, I was left barefoot and wearing a pair of shorts that I’d recently pissed in. Not exactly fearsome superhero attire.

My other robot, Roller, was now nothing more than a smoking crater where the chain-link backstop and a section of the bleachers used to be, but I still might be able to salvage something from floater.

“Hey,” a voice called from inside the darkened dugout. “Cal Stringel? Is that you?”

I wasn’t exactly a household face just yet, so the fact that someone called me out piqued my curiosity.

“Yeah,” I replied. “It’s me. Now who are you?”

The guy leaned out of the dugout and I could see the long blond hair and the moonlight reflecting off of the Minotaur carrying a battle ax tattoo on his chest. I knew that tattoo! He didn’t have any clothes on. That meant he’d been one of the transformed dinosaurs. Since the T-Rex went down over in this area, I had a pretty good idea what happened to him.

“Holy shit! Bobby!”

“Small world ain’t it?” he said. “Sure didn’t expect to see you here, especially with a few of those heroes around. I saw little Sheila and that guy with the chains.”

Sure enough, Bobby Walton didn’t look that much different from what I remembered. I hadn’t seen my old roommate since we fought the previous incarnation of the Gulf Coast Guardians and lost. Hillbilly Bobby was dragged off to prison as soon as he had been treated for his injuries.

“Stringel? What the hell is going on? Why are we on a baseball field in the middle of the night and why am I naked? I can’t remember a damned thing! Some freaky shit must’ve went down.”

“We’re in Louisiana. Some magic-using dinosaur turned you into a T-Rex. My team got lucky and killed him, but it cost me my armor.”

“You went and got yourself a team? Who’s on it?”

“I’m part of the Gulf Coast Guardians now, but don’t give me any shit about it, either! If it wasn’t for me, you and She-Dozer would be hatching little baby dinosaurs together.”

“With my cuz? That’s nasty!”

“Wait! Sheila is your cousin?”

“Well, yeah,” Bobby replied. “She’s Leonard’s sister. You didn’t know that?”

“No,” I said, and tried to figure out how I’d never put that together. That meant she’d been the one in the pond with him the day they got their powers.

“And here I thought you were the smart one. Sometimes you amaze me, Stringel.”

He has me there!
“Yeah, it’s a gift. All right, Sheila’s running around trying to salvage this mess, so you’d better go on and get out of here before she gets back and recognizes you.”

Bobby looked puzzled and says, “If you’re supposed to be a
hero
now, aren’t you going to try and take me in?”

The way he said the word hero made it sound like some kind of vile and disgusting word.

“I’m just getting a paycheck and a pardon, Bobby. Don’t read too much into it.” I was almost tempted to make some kind of illiteracy joke, but without my armor I wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell against him.

“Fair enough,” Bobby said, and slipped out of the dugout. “I’m kinda naked though.”

“There’s a lot of that going around right now. Not really as cool as I thought it would be either. I think there’s a thrift store two streets over; probably something in there that’ll fit you. Get to our base in Alabama and sit tight. I’ll meet up with you when I can. The code for the elevator is 8675309, just like the song. It might take me awhile because I have to try and cobble together a new suit, but there’s plenty of food and beer.”

Actually, I was kind of low on beer and most of the food was still frozen waffles, but he didn’t need to know that.

• • •

“Heya, Cal,” a man’s voice said from behind me. “I thought that was you. Saw you handling Bobby and figured I’d wait until he was gone.”

Shocked to be recognized for a second time tonight, I turned away from the useless wreckage of floater, the putrid smell of rancid eggs assaulted my sense of smell. The cloud of vapor rushed together and coalesced into yet another naked man. This one had white hair and a scruffy salt-and-pepper beard that brought the familiar banjo tones of
Deliverance
to mind. I didn’t know his real name, but his nickname was Hooch.

Did I mention that the fifty-something year old was naked? It seemed to be a theme.

“Swamp Lord,” I called him by the name most knew him by. “I could’ve used your help about an hour ago.”

“My memories are kind of fuzzy, but I think we were fighting each other.”

“You were the Triceratops?”

“Maybe. I think so. It’s slowly coming back to me. I... I sensed some kind of disturbance in the bayou. Hillbilly Bobby and I went to check it out and we found some kind of monster. It attacked us and things got hazy after that.”

Part of me was stunned that Rex had taken out Swamp Lord in his element. In his prime, Swamp Lord had fought two teams of Guardians to a standstill when they’d tried to arrest him. A smidge of panic crept into the back of my throat over how fortunate I’d been.

Then again, the Dinowizard had magic on his side. Swamp Lord’s gaseous form and elemental powers might have no defense for that.

“Sorry, I never made it to your hideout when that bug shit happened. I got attacked by the Olympians in New Orleans.”

“T’ain’t nothing,” he answered. “The kid I had working the shortwave rolled over on you as soon as he had a bug on him, so, if anything, it’s me who outta be apologizing.”

“So, the Olympians didn’t get you?”

“They tried, but I was too slick for ‘em. I saw the Biloxi Bugler and Chain Charmer over yonder. Don’t tell me you done up and went all hero on us?”

“Just a job, Hooch. Nothing to it, but to do it. Used to come with better perks. Besides, you’ve worked with the heroes before.”

“Yeah, I reckon you’re right, but I don’t trust ‘em one bit. Most of them are slipperier than a greased pig, and hide behind the power of the man when it suits ‘em. If’n you ask me, crooks at least don’t try and fool people into thinking how good they are.”

I managed a smile at the older man, who didn’t seem bothered by his nudity. Then again, he can’t carry anything, including clothes when he turns into vapor, so this was familiar territory for him. Hooch had a folksy kind of common sense that can’t be denied. Considering all the dirty deals I’d seen in my limited stint on this side of the law, I wasn’t in any position to refute his claims, even if I wanted to.

“Yeah, I’m keeping my eyes open. The grass is greener over here, but that’s just because they use a different brand of fertilizer. Any idea who the Stegosaurus really is?”

“Unless I miss my guess, that’s Susan Voss, the captain of the fire department in this parish.”

“She a super, too?”

“Yup,” he responds. “Can lift about a ton and can’t be burnt. People call her Fireproof, but she always jokes that if she had an official hero name it’d be something like Asbestos.”

“Oh, I think the Guardians tried to get her as a reserve member, but she turned it down.”

Hooch shrugged. “Smart lady.”

“Stringel,” a far off voice bellowed. It belongs to She-Dozer. “Get your ass over here and help!”

“Mind pitching in?” I ask.

Hooch begins to turn into mist. “These folks are my people too. I know where they keep the keys to the emergency vehicles at the firehouse. I’ll grab an ambulance or something and bring it back.”

“Thanks, Swamp Lord. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it, Cal. Come to think of it, I’ll probably want some new weapons from you sometime.”

“I think that can be arranged, provided you don’t go telling anyone who your supplier is.”

In the old days, I’d have wanted him to shout it from the rooftops, but these days, his status as an unsanctioned vigilante required discretion on both our parts.

As he began drifting away, I turned and headed to where Sheila was tending to a man with a head wound. At some point Dozer grabbed a spare costume from her hoversled.
Hooch and the rest of these chumps being naked was one thing. Sheila was at least nice to look at, even if she is a world class, anal retentive, bitch.

“I know you’re pretty useless without your armor, but I’m guessing you know some first aid. Grab the other kit off my sled and get to it.”

The curvy amazon annoyed me more than the rest of the team put together... except for Kimodo, but she was a traitor, so it qualified my statement.

“Swamp Lord thinks the dinosaur you fought is the head of this parish’s fire department, a super named Voss. Have you seen her? Swamp Lord should be rolling up here in an ambulance in a few minutes.”

“What’s he doing here?” Sheila asked, ignoring my question.

“He was turned into one of the dinosaurs we fought. The T-Rex you were going to end up mating with was none other than Bobby Walton. How come you never mentioned you were his cousin?”

It was a well-documented fact that my mouth has a tendency to get me in trouble. The look on her face told me that this was one of those times.

“Where is that no good piece of shit?”

“Gone,” I answered.
Why do I even try talking to her?

“You let him get away!”

“Just a second ago you were saying how useless I am without my armor. Exactly how was I supposed to detain someone like him? Tell him amusing stories? Dazzle him with witty banter?”

“You used to work with him,” she growled, as I noted that if she pulled that gauze any tighter, it would either rip or crack her poor patient’s skull.

“And now I work with you. The only difference I see is that Bobby never led me into a trap where I was almost killed. You, on the other hand, did it tonight, and don’t think I haven’t forgotten about your part in Patterson’s little ambush, Sheila.”

“You know damned well I didn’t know anything about that!” Dozer was angry that her leadership skills almost killed us all tonight. It might be wrong to push that button, but the way I saw it was I could see her guilt and insecurity, and raise her three destroyed sets of custom crafted powered armor and a statue of Andydroid.

Poor Andy was petrified, just like my gear. Both the Bugler’s legs were broken. Sanford’s containment suit was in tatters after Rex transformed him into a velociraptor, and he was leaking his paralyzing juice all over the place.

Not exactly one of our most stellar outings, even if we did sort of win.

“Yeah, I know. I’m also looking around and seeing what happens when you do know something. Makes me think ignorance is actually bliss.”

“Get out of my sight, Stringel! Don’t let me catch you helping my cousin out, either.”

“Nothing would make me happier, fearless leader. And don’t worry, if I do help Bobby out, I’ll be sure to make certain you can’t catch me.”

My statement might have been too harsh, but only because it was true.

My mom used to keep all my report cards; she probably burned them after our falling out, but I did recall reading my first grade one where it said I had problems “Playing well with others.”