“Ms. Baird?” the man asked. He was a tall, handsome young man, beaming with happiness and love. On his arm, an impossibly thin (and just as perky) dark-haired woman smiled and radiated joy. There were an adorable couple.
“Hmmm?” Talula asked, not really wanting to take her eye off the storybook romance that had just rung her doorbell.
“We’re Ken and Karen Kellerman. We heard from some friends of ours about your charming little bed and breakfast, and we were wondering- could we have a room for the night?” Talula smiled a big smile.
“Well, sure you can! Why don’t you two come in? You’re welcome to have a seat here in the kitchen, I was just finishing a dinner for one of your fellow guests. It won’t take us long to do what we need to do.”
“No,” Karen said, smiling sweetly. “It sure won’t.” She’d already moved into position right behind Talula, and now, she was reaching into her purse. Her hand curled around the butt of a disintegration pistol. She brought the pistol up to Talula’s back.
* * *
“-ker? Agent Ryker, is that you?” CJ’s panicky voice pounded into Ryker’s ears.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, adjusting his disguise and looking back at CJ with his shining blue eyes.
“But you- I mean you’re-“
“We’ll talk about it later,” Ryker promised. “Right now isn’t the time. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t here, though I suspect they’re on their way, and none to happy with us. Meanwhile, Viper and Mandarin are both still on the loose somewhere nearby, and it looks like we’ve got company.” Ryker pulled CJ into a comforting hug, and pointed into the distance. Three large men in enormous exoskeletons were headed their way.
“Oh, damn!” cursed CJ.
* * *
Fifteen minutes after he’d disappeared, Joe returned, and cautiously led Charles and Kyle into town, to a hotel room. Fortunately, there was a light rain, and very few people were looking to the sky when Charles flew his teammates into town. Once he was sure his friends were settled, Joe left again, promising to explain everything when he returned. Several hours later, he was back, carrying many shopping bags. He set them down in a corner, then sat down on the edge of one of the two beds in their hotel room. He lit a cigarette.
“Okay,” he started, “We’ve got a lot to catch up on. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together like this, just the three of us, no combat. And we’ve obviously all been through some changes since then. I think it’s time we review.” Joe tapped the button on his CESU, once more taking on his Supercool costume. “It’s easy enough to start with me, at least with my weapons. I’ll tell you about the other big change lastly. Anyway, I got this charm from Shanna, made of Vibranium. It’s supposed to be good luck, but it’s no real weapon. That’s also why I swiped Stingray’s belt; I just wanted this big metal “S.” I figure I can Trapster-glue it to the front of my charm, and it’ll be like my own insignia, you know? I also got the Mandarin’s freeze ring, but I guess you caught that. But the biggest thing of all is this visor I swiped from Rocket Racer. I know it sounds dumb, but it has a built-in gyroscope, telepathic interface, and a laser targeting system. So I can finally use those skates Dazzler gave me, and I won’t be as likely to blow someone else up with the Wonder Glove. Go Scavenger! While I’ve got the floor, I suppose I should also mention that when I stole Stingray’s belt, I accidentally got his Avengers ID card. So I returned it, of course, but not until after I borrowed $2,500.00. I used the money to get this hotel room, of course, ordered room service on the way back up here, and bought the stuff I’ve got in the bags. So anyway, that’s my story.” Joe pressed the button on the CESU again, and he was back in the jacket-and-tie combo he’d worn during his very, very short term as a student at the Massachusetts Academy. “Don’t I just look all ‘Dead Poets Society’ and cool?” he jeered as he fetched one of the bags from the corner. He emptied its contents- socks, underwear, a pair of tennis shoes, several shirts and three or four pairs of pants- onto the bed. “If you’ll all divert your attention to Kyle now, I’d really like to hear what he’s got to say, and in the meantime, I’ll be changing into something a tad more comfortable.”
“Soooo, I was omnipotent again,” Kyle started, looking around the room for some hint as to what to say next.
“Yeah, we know, we were there,” Charles said. “What about that thing you did at the Contest of Champions? Identifying powers, and crashing Quicksilver? What’s that about?”
“Oh, right. Well, it’s like, after the whole big stone giant Living Colossus thing, my powers were hyped up even further. I can still see normally, like I used to, but now, when I look at people with true superpowers, I can see these bands of color and energy over top of them. And I can interpret the color, like I automatically know what their powers are. And if I concentrate, and think about the colors, I can take away their powers. Or, I can just focus on one of the colors, and take away part of their powers. Like when I took away Quicksilver’s reflexes, but not his speed.”
“Where did the costume come from?” asked Joe, now dressed in casual clothes and reclining on the bed.
“I’m not entirely sure,” Kyle confessed. “I know that I was the Colossus, and I wanted to be small, so I figured I turn my no-powers on myself. So I concentrated on being small, or regular size, and in my head, I pictured myself wearing this costume, with the cape and everything. So I guess that ‘fraction of cosmic power’ I’ve always got inside of me built it for me. It’s got an energy aura, too. I know that I can make it disappear, and I’m pretty sure I can make it re-appear, too.”
“Excellent!” Joe said. He leaned forward, picked up another bag, and handed it to Kyle. “Chuck and I’ll wait here. This bag is just like mine- it’s three or four days worth of changes of clothes. Why don’t you go into the bathroom, pop away your costume, and put one of these on.” A minute later, Kyle was back, having done so. With a grand fanfare and a wave of his arms, Kyle brought his friends’ attention to him.
“Ba-ha!” he cried, and suddenly, he was once more in the green-and-blue armor he’d constructed for himself, cape flapping in a non-existent wind. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Charles dropped below the bed, out of sight. Kyle’s eyes flashed with bright white light, and he was back in street clothes. He answered the door, and retrieved the room service Joe had ordered.
“I asked for three big meals, because I, for one, am starving,” Joe said. “But I did get three of them, and, no offense or anything, Chuck, I’m not entirely sure you eat anymore.”
“To be honest,” Charles said, “I’m not sure either. When I was trapped under Big Bertha before, I swear I stopped breathing. But it didn’t bother me or anything. I’m pretty sure that, like this, I don’t eat, breathe, or anything. Freaky, huh? I mean, it’s not all bad. I guess I’m more or less invulnerable to energy attacks now, right? And I definitely feel more in tune with the Negative Zone. Between that, and the bands, my powers are way hyped! And I can do this-“ Charles suddenly transformed each arm into a writhing mass of tentacles, waving back and forth. Joe and Kyle screamed, and spit out their room service. Charles returned his arms to normal. “Just kidding!” he laughed. And then he laughed some more. “You know what’s weird, though,” he said, after everyone had settled down. “When I look at that food, I’m hungry, even though I know I couldn’t eat it. But I guess when I knew that Fin Fang Foom was about to toast me, I subconsciously Nega-Zoned the rest of my body, the way Sinister explained.”
“The way who did what?” Kyle asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Charles blushed (not that anyone could tell). “I was a Marauder for about two seconds. Sinister explained that my power is just to control the Negative Zone, and that when my hands were destroyed, I remade them out of those energies. That’s why I can change my shape.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Joe said. “Sucks that you can’t undo it, though. How are we going to hide a Nega-Man everywhere we go?”
“He can change it,” Kyle said, between bites. Charles and Joe looked at him. “Remember when we fought the Marauders? I took away everyone’s powers, and Chuck’s hands came back. He didn’t have empty stumps or anything.”
“That’s right!” Joe exclaimed. “So Sinister is obviously full of shit! Or mistaken, I suppose. So Kyle, you can just zap away Chuck’s powers, and he’ll be human again.”
“He doesn’t have to,” Charles said. “At least, I don’t think he does. Now that I know, I mean, that my body wasn’t destroyed or anything- that means that I moved it somewhere, probably the Negative Zone. Which means I can bring it back if I concentrate.” Suddenly, there was a flash of light, and Charles was back, very human. He was dressed only in the black portion of the Supercools’ uniform, covering everything but his hands and face. The suit’s long-term exposure to the Negative Zone seemed to have tainted the material, however, which now shined with thousands of tiny points of light, like a two-dimensional version of the same bizarre effect Charles’ Negative Zone body projected.
“Hey, we all have our own costumes now!” Joe realized. “That’s pretty cool, I guess.” He put down his meal temporarily and pulled out Charles’ bag of clothes. “A little something to change into,” Joe explained. “Though in your case, I think I’d wear the unstable molecules suit underneath, just in case.”
With Charles back to his human state, the Supercools set to devouring their meals.
* * *
Talula Baird was a very meticulous woman; very obsessed with details. So she kept a very watchful eye on the timer on her oven as she cooked her chicken. She was staring intently at that timer, in fact, when Karen Kellerman pulled a laser pistol from her purse. And Talula saw it all in the reflection. So, as Karen Kellerman was bringing that gun to Talula’s back, Talula- front and back- was twisting her body away from the gun, simultaneously bringing her pan to bear against the side of Karen’s head. Even before the searing metal of the pan made contact, the grease splattered against Karen’s face.
Karen fell against the sink, howling in pain.
Meanwhile, Talula was moving with remarkable agility for a woman of her girth. She threw the full of her weight against Karen’s partner, Ken, knocking the young man against the wall. Ken’s head struck the shelf where Talula kept her antique plates, and one fell now, crashing across Ken’s face. More startled then stunned, Ken was taken out of the fight long enough for Talula to turn and retrieve the gun. As she reached down for the pistol, Talula met Karen’s eyes with her own.
“Terran bitch,” Karen spat, her face now a strange mixture of pinks and greens, swirling together in a face that was half human, half alien.
“Wh- what?” Talula cried, backing up. Backing into Ken’s waiting grasp. Talula realized she was up against far more than she herself could handle, and screamed in fury and frustration. She broke free of Ken’s grip as Karen retrieved her weapon. A beam of energy fried the corner of the doorway Talula bolted through. Ken and Karen followed.
* * *
Harry pulled on a t-shirt, stretched once more, and padded downstairs to the kitchen. Through the screen door, he could see Rina, curled into a lotus position on the back porch, meditating. He recognized her routine from several mornings past, and decided to fix a quick breakfast for the two of them (she would be done soon). Even before he could move, though, Harry noticed Rina’s body twitching uncomfortably.
“Rina-?” he asked. “Honey, are you-“ Before he could finish his question, Rina turned and leapt at Harry. Expecting a playful attack or perhaps a kiss, Harry opened both arms wide, and was stunned when Rina landed a hard punch to his chin. Harry slid across the kitchen floor, dazed. Rina’s eyes looked back and forth, surveying the kitchen. Even as Harry was getting his wind back, Rina drew a large knife from its holder, and swung the blade at Harry’s chest. Inches before the knife hit, Rina’s hand stopped short, bound by a thick strand of wire to the refrigerator door. Before Rina could pull the refrigerator over, Harry pressed his advantage, wrapping her head-to-toe in the wire he psychically manifested. Rina pulled against the wire like a creature obsessed.
Suddenly, Rina’s face softened, and tears began to pour down her face. “Oh, Harry,” she sobbed, and even as she continued, Harry was melting her bonds and pulling her into his arms. “It was terrible,” Rina cried. “I- I hurt so many people. And it- it was all Kyle’s fault!”
* * *
“Surrender now, or face the wrath of- the Seekers!” The green-armored man pointed a menacing finger at CJ and Agent Ryker. His friends, blue and gray, just stood back, apparently chatting with one another.
“The Seekers?” CJ asked. “For what are you seeking?”
“Excuse me?” asked Green.
“Well, it’s just, if you call yourselves the Seekers, shouldn’t you actually be Seeking something?”
“Oh, I get it. Justice! We seek Justice! Or rather, we did Seek Justice. I suppose now we just call ourselves that because of the whole name-recognition thing.”
“I’ve never heard of you guys,” Agent Ryker chimed in.
“Nope, me neither,” said CJ.
“Look,” interjected the guy in the blue armor. “My name’s Sonic. I’ve got this Sonic Crab doo-hickey. Then there’s Chain, and the guy you’ve been arguing with is called Grasp. We fought the Fantastic Four, and Iron Man, and Spider-Man, and that one Spider-Woman chick who became an Avenger, and Moon Knight, and Night Thrasher, and Nova, and the Punisher, and Midnight, and Darkhawk. So trust me, plenty of people will recognize our name!”
“Sonic Crab?” asked CJ.
“Forget it!” roared Grasp. “Just kill ‘em!” The Seekers attacked.
* * *
“Oh, but that’s not all!” said Joe. See, I don’t know if you guys figured it out or not while you were waiting here, but we’re actually in Atlanta, Georgia. Don’t ask me how or why those Contest of Champions guys thought to send us here, but this is where we ended up. So while I was out on my errands, I also picked up three one-way tickets to New York City. I figure we know the most people there, so we’ve got the most people to fall back on if we need a little help with our lives.”
“That sounds ominous,” said Kyle. “What are you driving at?”
“Well,” said Joe, lighting another cigarette. “I’ve been real mad at you guys for a long time, because as much as I love seeing the Marvel Universe, I don’t- or at least, didn’t- want to be here. But it’s been long enough, and I can take a hint. It seems pretty clear to me that we’re stuck here. And considering we’ve all been getting new and better costumes, gadgets, and powers, despite my best wishes otherwise- well, I guess I’ll just have to face Fate. Guys, if you’re still interested- I think we should become superheroes!” Charles and Kyle cheered, and after a minute, Joe joined in, too.
“But!” said Joe, cutting off the celebration before it got too jubilant. “There’s a catch. I don’t want to be X-Men, and though I wouldn’t mind being an Avenger- eventually- we’ve still got to make it on our own first. And, as much as I hate to say it, that means a real life. With a real job. For each of us. And a place to live. And those things aren’t going to come cheap, and they’re not going to come easy. Especially not in New York. So as soon as we get back, I’d like the three of us to do some real heavy-duty brainstorming about what we can all be doing when we’re not being heroes, okay?”
“Deal,” said Charles.
“Deal,” said Kyle.
“All right then,” said Joe. “Now let’s get some sleep.”
* * *
Talula charged past each of the individual bedrooms, down to the end of the hall, reaching frantically for the passkeys she wore around her waist. A sharp turn at the end of the hallway, and then down a flight of stairs, to a worn door coated with peeling yellow paint, and a small, screwed-in sign which read “Management Only, Please.” Talula jammed the key into the lock, and leaned into the door. Just beyond, the cool click of her shoes tapping the metal floor, and the whir of complex machinery reverberated off the eerily silent walls.
“Ms. Baird has a few secrets of her own, it would seem,” said “Ken” to “Karen” as the two caught up a few moments later.
“Indeed, it looks that way, Enk,” said the alien known as Renak. “But none of those secrets matter. The Earthwoman is allied with those humans who trapped us for days in our own vessel, on this mudball world. The Skrull Throneworld is calling us home, brother, and we shall return there- as soon as we’ve taught these Earthers a lesson.” The Skrulls, weapons drawn, continued around the next corner.
In a small corner, pressed against to enormous pieces of complex machinery, Talula closed her eyes, and desperately searched for a way out. She looked up, and saw the silhouettes of the two Skrulls fall in front of her, and she knew her life was over.
* * *
There was a new guy in the cellblock today. He was a scrawny kid, not much to him. Looked like you could tear him in half with your bare hands. Bright red hair, too. I mean like flaming red, as red as blood. All knotted and bushy. Probably never been combed. Just this dirty, ugly little stick of a man. But nobody messed with him, you know? Isn’t that weird? Nobody even knows what he’s in for. He hasn’t got a name. But that ain’t even the weirdest part. Weird thing is, he was talkin’ to Schofeld at lunch. Yeah, Schofeld. I heard someone say that loser used to be some kinda super-villain, you know? All I ever seen him do is sleep, drink, and cry. But new kid, new kid comes up to him and says something like, “Hello again, Bill.” That’s Schofeld’s name, sure enough. But like I said, nobody knows new kid, so Schofeld, he’s like, “Do I know you?” And new kid, he says, “We’re passing acquaintances, Mr. Schofeld. But we’re about to get to know each other much, much better.” And I know what you’re thinking, that maybe new kid’s got like the hots for Schofeld or something, but that ain’t it. It’s something about the way he said it, that makes you feel like you ought to shiver, you know? And that’s what Schofeld does. He kind of shivers, and is like, “That part of my past needs to stay the past. Leave me alone.” And new kid says, “Perhaps.” And then leaves. And that’s the end of it, right? Except tonight, at dinner, no one can find new kid. Or Schofeld. Creepy, ain’t it?
* * *
Grasp was the first person to call out for battle, but CJ was the first to act. With reflexes honed by years of street survival in a bitter, apocalyptic future (and aren’t they all), CJ pulled three fist-sized, blue balls from her cape, and hurled them as a unit at the feet of the Seekers. A blinding, choking derivative of tear gas burst free from each of the balls, and as the gas began to clear, CJ and Ryker scattered.
Chain was the first of the Seekers to burst free of the fog. His weapon was a thick, electrified chain, mounted on his wrist. A simple gauntlet trigger started the chain spinning at super speeds, and the wind generated easily scattered the gas in his area. Ryker was on Chain immediately, but the shots from Ryker’s laser pistol refracted harmlessly off of Chain’s armor. Chain’s weapon stopped spinning, and cracked out, whip-like. Ryker screamed as the chain crashed into his hand, knocking his pistol away. Chain raised his weapon again, but suddenly CJ was there, pressing a small, hand-held box into Chain’s back. The disruptor sparked with energy, and then immediately halted the flow of energy through Chain’s exoskeleton. The villain stood there, stock still, frozen. But then, Sonic and Grasp were free, too.
“Weapons!” cried Sonic, swinging a wild punch at CJ.
“What?” asked CJ, nimbly avoiding the aforementioned punch.
“We seek weapons,” Sonic explained, still futilely attempting to pound the living crap out of the beautiful young woman who claimed to be the daughter of all three Supercools, thrown back from her apocalyptic future to warn them of their impending demise. “That’s what we do now- we follow behind super-battles, and scavenge the high-technology weapons left behind.”
“Watch how you use the word ‘scavenge,’ big guy,” CJ warned, going on the offensive. She reached into her cape. “Here’s a little something I picked up from U- what the heck is that thing?” CJ screamed in pain as her ribs were crushed by a shrieking, eight-legged vise.
“That, dear girl, is a sonic crab.”
* * *
Johnny poked absently at each of the spikes on his head. Most of them were hair, of course. Johnny was poking to remind himself which ones were steel. Occasionally, Johnny would find one of the steel ones, and pull his finger away in pain. He always watched his fingers very carefully, to see if they would well up with blood. But there was never any blood. Johnny did that a lot. There were toys, and books, and other things in his room, but they weren’t fun; he wasn’t ever allowed out of the room. His mother came, of course, to visit him, every day. They laughed and played, but then his mother would look at Johnny that special way, like she just remembered about the spikes and the pain, and then she normally left. Most of the time she cried. That made Johnny sad, too, but when he tried to tell his mother about how sad he was, he normally got confused, and told her about the way the purple zebra stole his one nice pork chop, and that made Mother cry even harder.
This time, though, Mother was already crying. She was crying when she came to see Johnny, and she wasn’t wearing her special Johnny suit. Johnny was confused, and that made him scared, and that made him angry. Angry Johnny wanted to hurt the people who made him confused, and scared, and angry. And then, he saw them. But they didn’t see him! Johnny made a little growl in the back of his throat, and jumped at the people who made him angry.
* * *
“Finally, it’s done.” Six hands wiped the sweat from a single brow. “Now that I’ve worked out the results in my Body Shoppe, I’ve got just one step left,” Spiral reminded herself. She looked over her shoulders at the amber crystal, prominently displayed on her shelves. “It’s ironic, isn’t it?” She asked the female figure standing in the doorway. “The Supercools tried to stop me from saving their lives- saving them from the themselves that they don’t know need stopping. Ha! I couldn’t explain it if I needed to!”
“But you don’t need to,” the woman pointed out. “There’s nothing anyone can do to stop what must happen now.”
“And after all,” Spiral said. “What are the lives of a few humans when their sacrifice can restore you, my dear sister?” Two voices cackled, and twelve arms began to dance....
* * *
Grasp strode calmly up to Chain, and casually jerked free the neutralizer on his teammate’s shoulder. He tossed it lightly to one side. Sonic, meanwhile, was trying unsuccessfully to nail Agent Ryker with a exo-boosted punch. Ryker dodged nimbly from side to side, then suddenly stopped short as Grasp’s enormous glove tightened around his neck. Grasp raised the man into the air, and signaled for Sonic to take a free punch.
Meanwhile, CJ was writhing in pain. Also, she was stretching her hand out- almost- almost- finally! Her fingers curled around the discarded neutralizer. Without a moment to spare, she slapped the neutralizer across the sonic crab, pulled the hateful device free, and stuck both objects back into the security of her cloak. As she pulled her hand free, CJ grabbed a new weapon- a handful of small pellets, which she promptly hurled at Grasp. Henry Pym’s famed shrinking gas billowed around the mercenary, quickly leaving him a very tiny man holding very tightly to the back of Agent Ryker’s neck.
As Ryker landed deftly, he drew back his fist and threw it forward, into a very surprised Sonic’s faceplate. The punch was so powerful, Ryker’s arm almost seemed to swell to enormous size just before the punch landed. As Sonic fell, Ryker reached behind his back, and plucked the tiny villain free. As he pounded Grasp into submission, Chain advanced, his weapon once more whirling rapidly. From the folds of her cape, CJ pulled the adamantium-tipped cane once wielded by the evil Kingpin. She jammed the end of the cane into the spinning Chain, causing the weapon to loop back upon itself. A shower of sparks proved her ploy successful. Chain could only look on in horror as the young girl beat him senseless with her big metal stick.
“Hey, they weren’t so tough!” CJ exclaimed.
“No, I suppose not,” Ryker laughed. “But, uh... now what?” CJ looked across the vast battlefield in the middle of a foreign country with no sign of transportation in sight.
“Oh, damn,” she spat.
* * *
The Skrulls formerly known as Ken and Karen pointed their laser pistols at Talula’s shrunken, quivering form. Talula stared up at her killers, and then beyond them. The figure beyond howled with rage and excitement.
“Johnny, no!” Talula cried, but it was too late. At Talula’s words, Enk spun immediately, firing along her line of sight. Renak, on the other hand, panicked. Her finger pulled the trigger strictly by reflex, and the sudden, unexpected kick of the gun pulled the beam off-course. Nonetheless, blood fountained from an open wound in Talula’s stomach.
Simultaneously, Enk had turned to fire upon the pouncing body of an angry-looking fourteen-year-old boy. Johnny landed roughly on the Skrull, seemingly oblivious to the gaping hole Enk’s blaster had torn in his shoulder. Enk fell to the ground, stunned just long enough for Johnny to seize control of his gun. Three shots rang out. The first burned its way through Johnny’s left knee, the second through Renak’s throat, and the last squarely between Enk’s eyes. Johnny looked around at the carnage. The two greenies were dead, and the Lady was on her way. Someone should help the lady, Johnny reminded himself. And, it would seem he was the only one to do it. Johnny smiled- at last, he had an adventure!
* * *
Flight 452 out of Atlanta landed at almost precisely 12 noon, New York City time, bringing three young men “home.”
“So, we’re superheroes now, right?” Chuck asked.
“No!” Joe reminded him, for the, like, the eighteenth time. “Not when we woke up this morning, not when we got to the airport, not when we checked our bags, or boarded the plane, or landed, and not when we get to the terminal, either! Jobs first, then heroes- got it?”
“Would you guys shut up?” Kyle interjected from the aisle seat. “You’re going to ruin my secret identity!”
“We’ll need those, if we’re going to be heroes,” Chuck reminded no one in particular.
“Yes, I AM aware of how comic books work,” Joe griped. “Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s been far too long since my last brush with sweet, sweet nicotine, and I’d like to get off the plane.”
“Dude, settle down,” Chuck broke in. “They’re not letting anyone off yet.”
“Well that’s strange,” Joe mused. “I wonder if something’s wrong with the plane?” He peered only half interested out of the window. “Holy Shit!” he cried.
“What?” Charles and Kyle asked, simultaneously.
“There’s an enormous man beating planes together- and I recognize those uniforms! It’s the Soldiers of Misfortune- the villain group that attacks in pairs. Something is definitely wrong!” Silently thanking his father for training him to always sit in an exit row, Joe grabbed the red handle, and pulled up, popping the door open. Joe, Charles, and Kyle piled out onto the wing as the flight attendants shouted their disapproval. CESU, Negative Zone energies, and Power Cosmic flashed, and the three were immediately dressed in their costumes.
“Now?” Mr. Negativity asked.
“Yes,” the Scavenger replied, “Now we’re superheroes.”
Just as Joe had described, a thirty-foot man in a clearly villainous costume was standing out on the furthest runway, slamming planes against one another. Overturned baggage carts and the screams of airport workers made it clear that other forces were at work, as well, though none were immediately visible. Suddenly, the howls of a full-scale riot broke out from inside the terminal.
“Chuck! Kyle!” Joe shouted. “Get out on that runway and stop that man! I’m going to see what’s going on inside!” The Scavenger threw himself off the wing of the plane, landed deftly on a single roller skate, and sped into the terminal. Mr. Negativity grabbed No Powers Boy by the cape, and took off toward the giant.
Inside, the terminal was a madhouse. Gunshots echoed from every corner, continuing off into the long hallways yet unexplored. Blood was everywhere, though most of the wounded seemed only damaged. Of course, there were fatalities. Many of those left unharmed were trampling one another headed for the natural exits, or the one created by the Scavenger’s Wonder Glove. Still others were huddled under chairs or behind vending machines, pressing themselves tighter and tighter into the corners they foolishly believed would keep them safe. All around them, tiny wooden men, women, and animals of all sorts bounded this way and that, sowing confusion at every opportunity. In the center of the chaos was the most beautiful woman Joe had ever seen.
She was a flawless beauty- tall, but not gawky, with long, silky legs barely covered by her tights (they matched the giant’s, but they looked so much better on her). Her skin was an almond brown, her hair ebony black. She held an automatic pistol with such grace and poise. When she fired into the crowd, it was poetry. Suddenly, revulsion shocked Joe back into awareness. He hurled himself in front of the goddess’ bullets, dropping each one to the floor as rose petals before they could harm any more people.
He raised his Glove to return fire- and couldn’t. She was too perfect. He couldn’t destroy that- steal that from the world. He was able to choke out the word, “Beautiful.”
“That’s my name, sweetheart,” she laughed in a voice like angels dancing. “And where there’s Beautiful, you’re sure to find- Sick!”
As if on cue, a withered old man shimmered into view, and rubbed his hand gently down the Scavenger’s face. Joe closed his eyes unwittingly, and tried to keep his balance. He was suddenly very dizzy; was it getting hotter in the terminal? He blinked and the room began to spin. He dropped to one knee. A portly Indian man and a smiling old woman were standing above him.
“Brilliantly done, Guise!” applauded the old woman. “You kept us cloaked from him right until the last second!”
“It’s my gift,” the man replied, shrugging off the compliment. “Though it’s nowhere near as flashy as those enchanted toys of yours, Dolls. Do you suppose they’d like to finish off our meddling friend here?”
“That won’t be necessary,” croaked the trio’s senior member. “Now that I’ve made contact, the power of my virulent pheromones will kill him completely in another thirty seconds.”
A minute earlier, No Powers Boy and Mr. Negativity were arriving on the scene of the giant’s rampage. Dropping No Powers Boy just outside of the giant’s reach, Mr. Negativity flew in hard and fast, walloping the man right in the chin with a Nega-Band enhanced punch. The giant stumbled backwards, crashing into a (thankfully) deserted hangar. With a speed belied by his immense height, however, the giant was back on his feet, swatting aside Mr. Negativity’s follow-up attack. As Charles looped back for yet another attack, he saw that No Powers Boy was busy with a threat of his own.
Kyle’s opponent was a much more reasonable size, but that was the only thing normal about him. The man (presumably, it was a man) had acute canine teeth, a curved upper lip, and a depressed nose, set back in his face like a pig’s snout. Thick, matted fur covered every inch of the man’s body, hanging in strands that were in some places over a foot long. The strange animal howled with every punch Kyle dodged, louder still at those which sharply struck No Powers Boy’s battle armor. Still, the creature had already disarmed Kyle, and seemed to have the advantage. Mr. Negativity opted not to make a third run at the giant. Instead, he spun in quickly behind Kyle’s foe, ramming the beast-man with his shoulder. Upon seeing how filthy the thing’s coat was, Charles was glad his sense of smell didn’t function properly in Mr. Negativity-mode. The monster quickly pulled itself to its feet, but Mr. Negativity was waiting in the wings with a super-punch that sent the thing flying.
Suddenly, two enormous hands curled around Mr. Negativity and No Powers Boy, pinning both heroes in a vice-like grip. The giant- taller now than before- hoisted his two captives into the air, squeezing both harder and harder. Mr. Negativity tried to flex his arms, but the giant’s strength was too great. A few launched Nega-Bolts landed ineffectively away from anywhere they might do real good.
“Kyle!“ Charles shouted. “Take away his size!”
“No!” Kyle shouted back. “And in this uniform, it’s No Powers Boy!”
“What do you mean ‘no’, K- No Powers Boy?” Charles cried. His life was beginning to flash before his eyes.
“Keep the size.” Kyle grinned maliciously as his power sparked. “Lose the strength.” Suddenly, the giant man bellowed in pain as his legs snapped suddenly under his enormous weight. The grips on Charles and Kyle slid open as the man crashed to the ground. No Powers Boy tucked and rolled, letting the armor absorb the impact. Mr. Negativity just hung in mid-air.
As Kyle landed, he saw a woman, wearing the same costume the villains had been. She was a thin, petite blond with long hair, a radical hippie chick if ever there was one. She giggled, and waved. Charles, too, saw a woman, who flew in quickly from another portion of the airport. She was enormously built, with muscles that would make the She-Hulk blush red. Long, black hair fell to her waist. It’s color was matched by her dark, emotionless eyes. She spoke.
“You punks may have defeated Big & Hairy,” she said. “But you’ll be no match for The Sound & The Fury!” With that, she flew at Mr. Negativity, catching him before the hero even had a chance to react. She caught each of his wrists in a mammoth hand, and followed up with a sharp kick to the stomach. Mr. Negativity didn’t need to breathe, and that kick still knocked the wind out of him. Meanwhile, the cutie hippie chick just opened her mouth, and let out a piercing shriek. No Powers Boy clasped his hands over his ears, but it was too late. Now, it was too difficult to concentrate for his powers to do any good. Even as the young woman pulled a gun from her costume, Kyle knew he couldn’t do anything to stop her.
After another kick, The Fury was ready for an act of violence a little more “hands-on.” Confident her strength far surpassed Mr. Negativity’s (and certainly, she was right), the Amazonian woman passed both of Charles’ hands to her left hand, holding them both tightly as she drew back her right fist. As she did so, though, there was a loud CLANG!, and instantly, it was the Scavenger she held, not Mr. Negativity. Both combatants were surprised, but it was the Scavenger’s surprise which took the most immediate, useful form. Suddenly in mid-air, held, and not sick, the Scavenger ripped himself from The Fury’s grip. The force of his snap was enough to send The Fury spiraling higher and higher into the air, while the Scavenger himself dropped. It took only a few moments for him to realize he was wearing the Nega-Bands, and stop his descent, but by the time Joe figured that out, he was in range of The Sound’s power.
“Aaagh!” the Scavenger cried. “My ears! My God I can’t think straight! Oh the pain! The Agony! Fucking Christ, when will this nightmare end?” The Sound continued her shrieking barrage, but cocked her head and looked at the Scavenger, confused, as his rant continued. “Oh, I’m sorry,” the Scavenger said as he noticed her puzzlement. “Those are the things I would be saying, if not for the big glowing ‘S’ I wear around my neck. Sorry, sweetie.” From face-level, the Scavenger swung a sharp kick in mid-air, Soundly defeating the Soldier of Misfortune.
No Powers Boy stood groggily to his feet, and looked up at his teammate. Behind the Scavenger, The Fury regained her balance, and was streaking back into the fray. “Lose the flight,” No Powers Boy muttered, accentuating it with a gesture. The Fury’s eyes opened wide with fear, and by the time the nigh-invulnerable woman hit the ground, her momentum was great enough even to knock her out.
“Let’s go,” the Scavenger said. He clamped his Wonder Glove around No Powers Boy’s wrist, and flew back toward the terminal.
Much confusion was caused by the sudden appearance of a new person. Actually, at first, the Soldiers of Misfortune thought Sick’s touch had mutated the young man in the green coat. Quickly, though, understanding dawned, and Sick reached down to touch this new combatant.
“Silly old person,” Mr. Negativity laughed. “You can’t hurt me!” The Nega-Blast that he fired was almost an afterthought. One way or another, Sick had fallen, and could not get up. Charles kept talking, but only to himself. “That’s funny... I could’ve sworn there were two other people here a second ago.” Shrugging, Mr. Negativity committed himself to the battle close at hand- the war between countless wooden miniatures hell-bent on damage. “I can do a little damage myself,” Mr. Negativity boasted, destroying a two-inch zebra with a wave of his hands. Here, there, and everywhere, the little toys flitted, and Charles was right behind them, with Nega-Blasts, or just absorbing them straight into his hands (a technique which looked an awful lot like swatting flies). So obsessed was he with the dolls, Mr. Negativity almost didn’t notice the woman with the gun. He stopped up short, and stared at her. She was gorgeous. She smiled, and Charles felt his heart melt. He couldn’t do anything to hurt the most lovely creature God ever made. He just wanted to touch her, just once. Almost unconsciously, Charles shifted back into his human form. The angel raised her pistol, and pointed it at Charles’ face. It was spectacular.
Suddenly, the sound of hundreds of panels of shattering glass filled the room. Men, women, and children everywhere turned from the noise and shielded their faces from the cavalcade of tiny glass slivers that flew into the room. There, in the center of the explosion, was the Scavenger, his force field glowing brightly as he leapt dramatically into the room. His eyes were clenched shut tightly.
Mr. Negativity instinctively shifted back into his Zone form when he heard the explosion the Scavenger created, so though Beautiful fired, her shot was harmlessly absorbed. The powder flash, on the other hand, burned her Beautiful hand, and the young woman screamed as she dropped the gun. The Scavenger spun toward the sound of the scream, fired a Wonder Blast, slammed the Nega-Bands together, and ducked away (Mr. Negativity had been trying to take the blast on himself- no one likes to see beauty destroyed). The Wonder Blast struck the young woman squarely in the chest, knocking her unconscious. Joe opened his eyes, and looked at her. Nothing; he was glad he’d done it.
Mr. Negativity reappeared in the center of the room, as did a very surprised couple of hidden Soldiers. One fist for each foe, Mr. Negativity knocked Guise & Dolls unconscious. The enchanted miniatures dropped immobile as the old woman did. No Powers Boy stepped triumphantly into the room, bragging, “It’s an odd thing, ‘seeing’ the power signature for invisibility. Sort of defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”
Charles looked at the mess he, his teammates, and their opponents had made. Already, people were picking themselves out of the wreckage, and tending to one another. It wasn’t a perfect save, but they’d done the best they could. A lot of people were safe because of them. In the distance, he could hear sirens approaching- police and medical. He, Joe, and Kyle ducked into the nearest men’s room, changed quickly back into their “secret identities,” and left to merge with the crowd. “This is crazy,” he told his friends as he absorbed the Nega-Bands into his wrists (another trick Joe’d remembered to suggest). “Look at this place! It’s so ‘Airport ‘77’ in here, I can’t believe it.”
“Funny,” Joe chuckled. “I was going to say the same thing.”
“Not funny,” Charles said, staring at Joe. “Scary. I’ve never seen ‘Airport ’77’.”
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