Secrets of a D-List Supervillain (5 page)

They sure look bigger on the screen; I muttered and dodged around a collection of trees and bushes. Of course, I was running out of juice fast and it could, and probably would, chase me to the ends of the Earth.

Time began to lose meaning, and my continued existence was reduced to that of a cornered rat. I’d considered trying to take it back down the hill to see if it would get stuck in the swamp, but that path back down wasn’t for the faint of heart, and there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t get stuck.

Twice, it had nearly gotten me and I’d scraped up enough adrenaline to skitter away from it, but now my body, less a well-oiled machine and more a sputtering clunker running on vapors, was giving out on me.

I fell and couldn’t rise. On my hands and knees, I pushed forward another five feet and could only watch as the behemoth approached. There wasn’t enough energy left in me even to scream. Something grabbed me from behind and I barely registered being tossed through the air. For a brief second, I though the T-Rex golem had snatched me from the ground and tossed me upwards to crush me in its jaws on the way down, but instead, I hit the ground and tried to figure out what just happened. It was Hooch’s plant monster, interceding on my behalf and grappling with the behemoth to buy me another twenty seconds.

“Cal!” One of the clones called, shaking me out of a haze of lactic acid buildup and terror. “Get intto the pit!”

Stumbling, with a new short-term lease on life, I made my way in the direction he wanted me to go. It was the best I was capable of. The pit was really some kind of sloped trench Hooch’s destroyed tree soldier had dug. I could see the area of distortion that I associated with Swamp Lord, above me, and smelled the awful, rancid, methane pocket the Master of the Marsh held in place down here. The methane itself was odorless; however, all the contaminants were what generated the awful stench. At that moment, I didn’t care. It was the best smell ever as far as I was concerned!

Another of Hooch’s creations waited for me at the bottom in the hard to breath air, and a plasma-rifle-carrying-José was on the top of the slope I’d need to climb to get out. Hooch’s monster was a long vine anchored into the side of the trench.

“Wait!” he commanded as I took a couple of steps in his direction. After all the motion I’d put my body through in the past however long it had been, standing still and panting felt strange. Every part of my body screamed that if I stood still much longer, I’d fall to the ground and never get up. Fighting against it, I held my ground, which shook with the approach of my executioner.

“Now,” the clone commanded and my tired legs gave a half-hearted attempt to follow his directions. A second José appeared and dragged me the last few feet as the golem’s leg stepped down into the trap. The vine snapped out and wrapped around the thing’s ankle.

Seconds later, there was an eruption behind us. The clone who’d helped me up the slope, pushed me up those last few feet, and dived on top of me. A massive thud came seconds later and I dared to hope it was all over.

It wasn’t.

The creature, with half his lower left leg removed by Swamp Lord’s assault, still tried to move toward me. His arms and remaining leg flailed and propelled the creature slowly in my direction. The José who’d lit the fuse had died and the one who had pinned me to the ground wasn’t in great shape either.

“Hooch!” I called.

There was a whisper in the air. “I’m still here. It’s just... gonna take some time to pull myself back together. When I do, I’ll have some plants make... it... so this thing can’t get... out.”

I thanked him profusely.

The two remaining clones and I pulled back and waited for Swamp Lord to collect his particles. Going on, at that moment, seemed more foolish than jumping back into that trench.

• • •

“I thought I said no laughing,” I say, and jab an accusatory finger at the red-faced Love Goddess.

“I can’t help it!” she replies, between gasps for breath, and mimics, “Hooch! Save me!”

I let her go on and have her laugh at my expense for much longer than I should have. If it were anyone else, I’m sure I’d find it more amusing. Lord knows, José Six-Pack used to give me all kinds of shit about it in private. Finally, I ask, “Are you about finished?”

She wipes away some of the tears that had built up in the corners of her eyes and nods, stifling a couple of more laughs in the process.

“Well,” I explain. “Besides not wanting to give anyone reasons to think more about those pieces of crystal, you can probably see why that didn’t make it into the abridged autobiography. It wasn’t exactly one of my finest moments, which, given our history together, says quite a bit.”

“What did you find?”

“Not a whole lot, or at least that’s what I thought initially. Rex didn’t have trap after trap lined up. He was probably too arrogant to believe that we mammals could be anything more than just a minor irritant. Inside his lair, we found the remains of the central mirror of movement; in larger pieces than the ones we’d already recovered, and a couple of spares that were intact. Later, I used the bigger chunks to run my stuff through after I cut matching pieces out of one of the spares.”

“What about the treasure?”

Shaking my head from side to side, I reply, “Mostly a bust. Can’t really say about his society, but Rex didn’t care about gold. He liked silver though. His spellbooks were actually piles of silver slates. There were a few stones here and there, but almost all of them were of the semi-precious variety. Honestly, the plasma rifle we lost when the one José died cost more than what we pulled out of there. We also found the pieces of him and poor Kimodo that had come through to the other side.”

“Didn’t quite pan out the way you wanted?” Stacey says, seemingly not bothered by my casual mention of a bit of gore. I pick up our dishes and take them to the sink. Normally, I’d probably leave them for Andy, but since I’m trying to make a good impression with the gorgeous lady at my side, I start washing them off.

All I can do is shrug and reply, “It’s like what Mick Jagger says about always getting what you want?”

“You can’t,” she finishes for me. “How’d you explain away the plasma rifle?”

“José lied and said it was destroyed when we fought Rex. It was pretty easy since he’s the one in charge of keeping all the records. I was down in the dumps as well and was ready to chalk it up to another one of my misadventures. Of course, the real treasure was Rex’s spellbooks, if you want to call them that, and the mirror fragments, but it took me a little while longer to put all that together.”

“I’m sorry I laughed at you,” she says, with sincerity.

“You get a pass on that since we’re involved.”

“Involved?” she asks. “Sounds like a complicated situation.”

“I guess it’s going to be as complicated as we make it,” I respond. “Realistically, you’re a member of the most powerful, sanctioned, superteam on the planet. I’m on the most powerful, unsanctioned team, with no real plans to get the UN’s or Uncle Sam’s rubber stamp of approval anytime soon. That’s going to create some problems for us down the road, but only if we let it. The Olympians and the Reinforcements are bound to bump heads, but let’s make a promise not to let that come between Stacy and Cal.”

Pausing, I reflect on my sudden discovery of a new layer to my personality. The lady looks equally mystified. “It’s been a long year apart, Stacy, and I’ve had a lot of time to do some serious soul searching. Why don’t we go chill on the couch and wait for Gabby to wake up.”

She agrees to my plan and takes my arm as we head back to Central Command. So far, things seem to be going great, which means that naturally I’m nervous as all get out. My new “depth of character” means that I will probably find some new and completely unexpected way of screwing this up. Paranoia and insecurity are threatening to pounce on me at any moment, but I want to put all my failed relationships to rest. If I can do that, maybe, just maybe, I can make this one work.

“So, when last we left our intrepid hero, he was hauling away his ill-gotten dinosaur booty. What manner of adventure does he get into next?” Stacy inquires, following me into Central Command.

“Maybe we should take a break from story time,” I reply. “You laughed at me.”

She smirks. “Because it was hilarious and you know it. Too bad there’s no video.”

I plop down on the couch, grab the remote, and power on the monitor. “Maybe there’s something good on.”

It appears that Larry and Bobby had been playing their game before we got up.

“Ultimate Super Showdown?” Stacy asks, while lowering herself gracefully to the couch.

“Bobby and Larry spend hours playing USS; it’s almost a religion to them.”

“But not you?” she queries, with a hint of challenge in her voice.

“
Moi?
” I reply, feigning hurt. “I’ve been known to dabble.
Et vous
?”

“I thought you sucked at foreign languages, Cal.”

“I did, but the necklace Larry is wearing definitely helped me out in that department. Really jump started things.” Turning my attention to the game, I continue, “This one is a bit different. Andy modded the hell out of it, and Bobby and Larry keep getting new add-ons every time I turn around. Andy’s coding has turned it into a poor man’s battle simulator, where we can run simulations of two super powered people throwing down with each other. Just give me a minute and I’ll shut it down. We can watch something else.”

The Love Goddess smiles at my offer before a mischievous grin replaces it. “Or we could play and the winner picks what we do next. I’ll have you know that I can crush you like a grape.”

“Since when do you game?” High society is more her speed, or at least it used to be.

She scoops up the controllers and thrusts one at me. “You’re not the only one who changed during our year apart. I cut back on public appearances and interviews. This is one of the things that helped me fill the free time. I’m sure my phenomenal reflexes make things a bit easier. So, are we going to play or are you going to admit my superiority?”

I guess I’m not the only one with a surprise or two. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really keep tabs on her too much. As far as I know, she went on something like three or four dates. Considering she’s the most desired woman in the world, that’s practically joining a convent!

“Did I just hear a feeble attempt at smack talk?” I say, shaking my head from side to side and casting aside my inner thoughts. “Because that’s what it sounded like. I’m pretty sure the person saying such things doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into. Just remember this was your idea when you’re singing The Butthurt Blues at the end of the match. Best two out of three gets to pick our next activity.”

Stacy began flipping through the characters on the selection screen before settling on the leader of the Olympians, Hera.

“You’re not picking yourself?” I ask.

“No,” she answers. “Robin’s defense value is off the charts; plus her force field choke is a whole lot cooler than my finishing move.”

She refers to Aphrodite’s Kissy-Kissy final move where she grapples with the enemy and then plants a wet one on their face. The opponent falls to the ground and then starts worshipping Aphrodite. I could see why this would annoy her, which gives me inspiration.

“Well, I guess I know who I’m picking now,” I say, and send a wink in her direction and select her as my character.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Pucker up sweet cheeks! Either way, you lose, Stacy. But that’s what you get for coming into my house and thinking you can take me.”

As our two characters enter the battle arena she says, “I’m going to enjoy beating the snot out of you.”

“You wish,” I counter, and start working the controllers like a man possessed.

She isn’t kidding about her reflexes! I barely take the first round and she gets the second, but I land a Cupid combo right at the end of the third that leaves the Hera wobbling with no energy to continue.

“Aw,” I say, savoring my victory and punching in the five key sequence to activate Aphrodite’s special move. “It’s Kissy-Kissy time.”

On screen, Aphrodite pulls Hera into a passionate lip lock and the other Olympian prostrates herself on the ground. I’m about to do my little victory dance when the synthesized voice, that really doesn’t sound like Stacy at all says, “Come and let me show you what I do with my slaves.”

The real Stacy looks at me and I shrug my shoulders as we both watch what’s happening on the screen.

“Must be one of the new mods Bobby picked up,” I say, and gulp as I see what the CGI characters are doing and shudder slightly, suddenly wishing I hadn’t picked Aphrodite.

“Yeah,” my recently reacquired girlfriend says. “Robin and I have definitely never done that before. We don’t swing that way.”

The cut scene lasts a full minute more and appears to have an accompanying horrible rendition of
Just a Friend
to go along with the moans and groans. As it finishes and returns to the main screen I stammer, “Sorry. I didn’t know they had something like that loaded. We can shut it off and go back to story time.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I believe you. What were you going to pick since you won?”

“A nice backrub,” I reply. “It’s was a tough choice between that and something similar to what we just watched, but not when I’m supposed to be keeping tabs on my daughter.”

Responsibility, it’s a curse!

She considers my statement. “How about I give you a backrub in a little bit? Pick someone else and let me win this time, I want to see what Robin’s altered move is, so I can give her crap about it.”

“Okay, since I’m going to lose, I think I’ll pick her,” I click over to Athena. “What? I still don’t like her. Don’t think I ever will.”

My gaming buddy laughs as our contest begins anew. “Why am I not surprised? Are you in this mod?”

“No,” I confess. “I wonder what my finishing move would be.”

“Biting sarcasm,” she offers.

I make a half-hearted attempt to win, but Stacy crushes me after the force field choke sends Holly Crenshaw to the ground. Hera wheels out a rack, straps Athena to it and goes all dominatrix on her, whips and all!

“I may have to get a copy of this just to show her,” Stacy says, in between fits of laughter. “I’m probably going to regret this, or need to sign up for therapy, but let’s see the rest of the team.”

As we rotate back and forth, beating each other with the various super powered characters in the game and watching the cringe worthy modified cut scenes, I start telling her the next part of the story.

• • •

After my little excursion in the swamp, I decided to build something, anything, to give me some more firepower. Even after swallowing my pride and accepting Wendy’s offer of a loan. However, even with financing backing, I couldn’t acquire many of the critical components to make a new set of armor. It was becoming the technological equivalent of cockblocking and was about as enjoyable as the real thing.

Lacking other options, I was in the process of dusting off something that should best be forgotten—my ManaCALes design. As sad as it sounded, I needed to get back on active status. As usual, it was about the money. If I was going to have to go to the Black Market to get the synth muscle and controllers to rebuild my suit, I couldn’t really use Wendy’s money.

The door to my workshop opened and Sheila entered followed by a pair of individuals. She-Dozer was in full tour guide mode with a pair in cloaks following. I stretched, sore from being hunched over my schematics for the new, and only marginally improved, ManaCALes, to see what had our temporary leader gushing like a schoolgirl.

“He’s in here,” she said.

I took a moment before replying, “Welcome to my humble abode. How can I be of service?”

Sheila gave me that same sour look you give the toilet bowl after you’ve taken a dump. “They’re here for Andy, not you, dumbass.”

Glancing over at the statue that used to be my friend, “In that case, anything you need. A few of the local bokers have been by, but the Voodoo they do, just no can do. Heck, one of them touched Andydroid and went running out of the room screaming.”

“Comparing Voodoo to our branch of the magical arts is like saying Michelangelo was a house painter,” the smaller one said, in a female voice.

I took a closer look at the guests and it was my turn to give Sheila the same look. “What are Patterson’s bootlickers doing here?”

“I’d watch my tongue, if I were you,” Mystigal threatened. “I could just as easily take away your ability to speak.

“Can it, Stringel! Before you get all pissy, Wendy asked Mystigal and the Grand Vizier to come here as a favor to her. You’re welcome to leave if you don’t want to be around them.”

“Like I’d leave them alone in my workshop. No, thanks, I’ll stay.”

“I don’t want any trouble from you then,” she warned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m the guy with no powers in the room and they are buddies with the man who tried to kill me. Clearly, I’m the one who is going to cause the problems. How about we wheel Andy into the other room and they can examine him there?”

“Mr. Stringel,” the Grand Vizier said, gently resting his hand on Mystigal’s shoulder. “I understand your anxiety toward Lazarus. Rest assured we are no threat to you and we are only here to help, out of respect for all the good Andydroid has accomplished over the years.”

I would have been more assured if it hadn’t come out a few years before that the Grand Vizier wasn’t Earth’s Strongest Magical Protector. For almost two decades he’d perpetuated a fraud to hide that his protégé was the one with the real power. Still, he had the old grandpa crap down to a tee.

“My anxiety toward Lazarus? He tried to kill me and none of you even asked for an investigation?”

“It could have just as easily been the Overlord, as Lazarus said. Given his past and your past, I’m willing to give my teammate the benefit of the doubt,” Mystigal said, in a callous tone.

My answer was, “Apparently, mastering magic doesn’t require a lick of common sense.”

“Stringel!” Sheila exclaimed. “Shut the hell up and let them do their job.”

“All right,” I said. “For Andy.”

After all, these two were among the most powerful magic users around. If anyone could help him...

I did my best to relax and let Sheila smooth things over. Her efforts focused solely on telling the two of them what a moron I was. When all was calm, I turned to the still annoyed young woman, I said, “So, how are Spirit Staff and K-Otica?”

“My brother and sister-in-law are well and seem to be enjoying Mexico City. I didn’t know that you knew them.”

Making certain to look at Sheila I said, “Back when I was on the other side of the fence. They were the only two on this team who didn’t annoy me.”

In truth, I really only felt that way about K-Octica, but I was trying to be nice. Her brother was an arrogant shit with a magical bo staff. I kind of enjoyed the time I threw a dumpster at him. Shortly before the bugs showed up, Karina had convinced Spirit Staff to relocate South of the Border to be closer to her family.

“Let’s just get this over with,” the sorceress said, not really responding to my olive branch.

I couldn’t have agreed more. Unwilling to go back to my work, I watched the magic happen... or not in this case. They lit candles in a pattern around my petrified amigo and walked around chanting and waving various objects at him. It was interesting to observe, and slowly I began to feel the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up. The room temperature fluctuated wildly and I felt chills. Grand Vizier had sweat glistening from his prominent forehead, and Mystigal wore a look that seemed to be one part concentration and the other constipation.

As my hopes for Andy’s revival began to dim I thought,
Apparently, comparing what they could do to what the dinosaur could do, was like calling Da Vinci a handyman.

Even my little mental jab did little to improve my mood. The dinosaur’s words echoed in my mind; about how he called down the meteor that created the Gulf of Mexico to crush a rebellion and oddly enough, bring about the end of reptilian dominance. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, but watching the two humans struggle against the curse, charm, or whatever the hell it was, made me doubly glad that I’d killed him.

Mystigal uses all sorts of protections on her costume. Maybe I could get her to put a layer of magic on my Kevlar vest? Hey wait! Did Andy’s arm just move?

I got plenty excited, but it only lasted a few seconds. The Grand Vizier stopped chanting and breathed a deep sigh. He’d apparently tapped out of the match and it looked like Mystigal wasn’t far behind. The old man in the crimson and purple robes pulled himself to his feet, looking far older than when he had entered.

“No dice, huh?” I stated.

“I’m afraid it cannot be undone,” the man said, sounding like he’d just finished a five K. “The magics that permeate Andydroid’s body are completely foreign to me. Asa is more stubborn than I am and will expend much more of her power before conceding defeat.”