Playing For Keeps Page 13

  “We had it, you dumbass,” Michelle said. “Should have frisked us, shouldn’t you?”

  Doodad colored. Peter remembered the reports on the news warning the populace of this man’s intellect as well as his physical strength, and he groaned. The stereotype of being big and dumb was not one Doodad appreciated.

  The cell phone animated at his feet at sprouted spindly metallic legs. It skittered across the floor towards Michelle. She gave a disgusted cry and shrank against the wall.

  The cell phone leapt onto her thigh and dug its sharp legs through her jeans and into her flesh. Michelle screamed. “Get it off me!”

  Doodad smiled coldly, watching her writhe as his construct dug itself into her leg. Michelle plucked it from her leg with a cry and with shaking hands threw it at the bars where it ricocheted and bounced onto the hall’s dirt floor.

  Doodad took a step towards the bars that separated him and Peter.

  “Any more electronics in there?” he asked.

  Peter opened his mouth, and Doodad held up his hand. “Never mind. I’ll find out on my own.” He concentrated and Peter felt his pocket writhe as his pocket change came to life and melted together, forming a small metal humanoid that crawled out of his pocket. Alex had a similar item crawl out of his, and Michelle swore as her rings and earrings slithered off of her like snakes.

  The metal followed Doodad, who smirked and left.

  Michelle to sat and rubbed her leg while Peter stared after Doodad thoughtfully.

  “I didn’t know he could do that with metal,” he said. “I thought he was only good with machines.”

  It had been an hour since the Librarian had been taken from them. Peter wondered if the villain’s method of torture was worse than the heroes’. He hoped he wouldn’t have to find out.

  A metallic cot clinked down the hall, walking on stiff legs, followed by the stonyfaced Doodad. The Librarian lay on top of it, dirt and twigs caught in her face and hair. She looked as if she’d been buried alive.

  Peter rushed to the bars, Alex beside him. “Is she alive?” Alex asked.

  “She’s unconscious,” Doodad said. “Lucky we caught you guys, now she won’t die after all, will she, little healer?”

  The cot walked into the cell as the bars bent themselves back. “She held out for a lot longer than Stan figured she would. Good luck with her,” Doodad said, and left them alone.

  The Librarian breathed shallowly, coughing weakly every few breaths.

  “Can you help her?” Peter asked.

  Alex placed his hands on the Librarian’s ribs. He closed his eyes and nodded. “I think Patricia would be more useful here, but I think I can help.”

  “Patricia can only remove alcohol, not dirt,” Michelle spoke up, and closed her mouth when Peter glared at her.

  Alex’s face relaxed. “Ohh...it’s like an infection. I can do this. It will just take time.”

  Peter ground his teeth and forced himself to step back, knowing he could do nothing to help Alex.

  “Do you think she gave them information?” Michelle whispered to him.

  “Doodad says she did. I can’t figure out why he would lie to us. It’s not like he can trick us into giving him information—we don’t have any,” Peter said, watching Alex concentrate.

  His healing powers were so slow. Peter couldn’t see any change in the shallow, labored breathing of the Librarian. He paced the length of the cell, trying to think of a way out.

  He hadn’t had a chance to tell Keepsie where they were being kept. And if Doodad’s constructs and that glowing girl were attacking the heroes, they would be occupied with protecting the city, not tracking down the villains behind it all.

  He sat against the wall and cradled his head in his hands. Michelle sat beside him.

  “I was thinking about what you were saying,” she said.

  Peter raised his head wearily. “What are you referring to?”

  “About my powers. That I might try using them offensively.”

  “Well, you can lift a lot of weight on a bar tray, right?” Peter asked, watching Alex.

  “Yeah. That means I can probably throw something heavy, as long as it’s on a bar tray, I mean. Or I could just throw a bar tray that had been shaved off at the edge.”

  Peter frowned. “You mean like a discus?”

  “I was thinking something closer to Xena and her throwing circle thing, but yeah.”

  Peter looked around the sparse cell. “But we don’t have a bar tray in here.” There were torch sconces in the wall, but no torches. The only thing in the room besides the four of them was the mechanical cot that held the Librarian.

  “No. I guess not.” Michelle lapsed into silence and stared at Alex, whose eyes were still closed.

  Alex relaxed and sagged, staggering backwards. Peter jumped up and steadied him.

  “She’s OK, now. All the dirt’s gone, airway’s clear,” he mumbled, and slumped against Peter, who carefully lowered him to the floor.

  Michelle bent over the Librarian, who was struggling to sit up. “How are you feeling?”

  “Alex Cardon,” she said, focusing on the unconscious man. “Very limited healing powers.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. He saved your life, bitch,” Michelle said.

  “Yes, I suppose he did,” the Librarian said. She looked at both of them. “So my rescuers are a woman who can control a bar tray and a man who can find limited information about someone by smelling them.”

  Peter ground his teeth. “So, what are your powers, anyway? We’ve got someone like you on our side, Wanda Greene, how are you a hero with a special name and a position in the Academy when she’s a waitress?”

  “Wanda Greene. Perfect memory, limited intelligence,” she said. She was starting to sound like a computer. “My powers are perfect memory, enhanced intelligence, superior organization, cross-referencing, not to mention I am entrusted with the Academy’s secrets. I am a hero, unlike a First or Third Wave human.” She gave Michelle a pointed look.

  Peter swallowed his annoyance. “But, then why did you help Keepsie escape last night?”

  “Simple logic. Keepsie clearly had the upper hand. None of our heroes could kill her, and she had several hostages.”

  Michelle snorted. “I thought heroes like you didn’t negotiate with terrorists.”

  The Librarian rubbed at her eyes and wiped dust from her face. “The Third Wavers are neither terrorists nor villains. You were in our way and we underestimated you. That is all.”

  Michelle opened her mouth to retort but Peter shushed her. “What about the villains. What did you tell them?”

  The Librarian lowered her eyes. “Everything they asked. I am not a combat hero. I am not trained in withstanding interrogation and torture.”

  Peter knelt beside her. “Listen, we need to get out of here, we need to get you, and probably most of us, to a doctor. What can you tell us about Clever Jack and Doodad? Jack told us that the heroes and villains were engineered in the halls of the Academy.”

  The Librarian opened her mouth and then closed it. “No, there’s no use in denying it at this point. Yes, they were raised within the Academy. Clever Jack Townsend: impossible luck. No weaknesses known. Eric Timson, Doodad, mastery of machines, bears an insane grudge against his mother. The villains weren’t engineered, exactly. They were meant to be heroes. They were just bad seeds.”

  “What about Clever Jack’s mom?” Michelle asked. “He seems to be a lot less bitter than Doodad.”

  “Clever Jack’s mother came from the Appalachian Mountains. She had gotten herself in trouble but had read about the Academy’s offer for free prenatal care and discreet adoption, so she came to Seventh City for the drug treatment. When Clever Jack was born, the doctor dropped him. At the same time, a nurse slipped and fell right under Clever Jack, giving him a soft landing.”

  The Librarian smiled. “Everyone pretty much figured out his power right then. His mother said he was like the Clever Jack of Appalachian folklore. The
lucky bastard, she called him. So she named him Jack. When it came time to choose our hero names in our teens, Jack became Clever Jack.”

  “Sounds like he liked his mom,” Michelle said.

  “His mother left soon after weaning Clever Jack. She went back home with her future secured by the Academy. We do suspect that when Clever Jack escaped the Academy years ago that he sought her out. We don’t know if he succeeded.” She took a deep breath. “Either way, he has been working to free his delinquent friends. He already has Doodad, and he apparently found Seismic Stan, which was impressive considering the Academy thought him dead years ago.”

  Peter made an exasperated sound. “And?”

  She was a crappy actress and tried to feign innocence. “And what?”

  “The girl who blew up the Academy. Jack freed her. Who was she?”

  She glared at him and swung her legs over the side of the cot. “You already know far too much and you don’t need to know anything else. Look what you managed: you were manipulated into helping the villains, you broke the law to become a vigilante group, and then got locked up. Any more information would not help you break those bars.”

  Peter stared at her. “You know, you’ve never denied any of the things we found out. You really haven’t taken the stance that the Academy usually takes when these questions are brought up.”

  She stood, wavering slightly. Peter didn’t move to support her. “My name is The Librarian, not Public Relations Woman. I say what I think is in the best interest of myself and the Academy in my opinion. That’s why I only serve the Academy internally. They don’t really agree with me. I suppose I have the opposite of Ghostheart’s lying power.”

  Michelle’s head snapped up. “Lying power...”

  Peter felt his mind clear as if by magic. Or a superpower. “Her power is lying. It makes perfect sense. Oh thank God.”

  The Librarian’s face crumpled and she sat back down on the cot. “Oh my. You didn’t know, do you? This was the one thing you didn’t know. And I told you.”

  Peter smiled, feeling as if something had finally gone right. “We were entirely duped by her. I’ve been kicking myself for the last day, trying to figure out how none of us figured her out.”

  Michelle nodded. “Superlies. I guess this is why we never knew about her as a hero. But why do we see through them all?”

  The Librarian sustained her stony silence.

  Peter laughed. “Because that’s her weakness. Her power doesn’t work if you know what it is.”

  Michelle got up and went to sit beside the Librarian on the cot. “While this is great for our egos, it’s not going to help us out of this cell.”

  “Wait,” Peter said. “Get up, both of you.” He offered his hand to help Michelle up, but simply waited for The Librarian to make her morose way off the cot.

  The cot was made of flat metal plates jointed together in an odd, somewhat organic way. The metal forming it was dense and heavy; Peter guessed it was iron. He pulled at one of the legs experimentally, and it didn’t budge.

  “Michelle, come here,” he said. “See if you can lift this.

  Michelle gave the cot a dubious look. “What are you talking about? If you can’t move it, there’s no way I can.”

  “Sure you can. See here?” He pointed to the underside of the cot where one of the metal plates was. “This is just a bar tray with some extraneous things hanging off the edge.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Look, just try to lift it. You said yourself that you wanted to see if your powers could span farther than you’d thought.”

  Michelle stared at the cot for a moment. She knelt and put her hand on the bottom of one of the plates.

  “One order of cheese fries, with a fucked up living metal walking cot on the side,” she muttered, and stood, hefting the cot easily onto her shoulder.

  Her face lit up. Even though she clearly carried it lopsided, with her hand at one side and not supporting the other at all, it sat easily and flat on her hand.

  Peter grinned. “Excellent.”

  The Librarian stared at Michelle with a glazed look in her eye. “Michelle Cooper. Powers upgraded to include lifting possibly anything with a flat underside. Power level upgrade to 4, possibly higher.”

  “Give it a rest,” Peter said.

  Michelle put the cot down with ease, and Peter embraced her. “We have a weapon now.”

  19

  Keepsie climbed out of Colette’s car. “So do you guys know about a hero—or villain—who is all glowy like that girl?”

  “You mean that light show?” Barry asked, slamming the car door. “Never. And I remember when Pallas and Seismic Stan had their first battle.”

  Tomas nodded. “My ex-wife was a hero groupie, and she tracked all of them. I do not remember someone who could do, well, whatever it was that person did.”

  “How are we going to do this?” Colette said.

  Keepsie chewed her lip. The details were always the hard part. “Let’s get out and get into the trees and see what we can find out. It’s dark enough that we won’t be seen.”

  “Yes, and we will not be able to see either,” Tomas grumbled, but followed them.

  “Sure we will,” Keepsie said. “Can’t one of you glow like that woman back there?”

  The glow was still bright twenty blocks away. They couldn’t hear anything going on, but it was clear the girl was still there.

  Barry chuckled, coming up behind Keepsie. “Sure thing. You bet. My ass’ll start glowing right pretty like a firefly, just a second.”

  They all laughed and the tension lifted. With the headlights off, the only light was an occasional building that hadn’t lost power and that odd villain who still shone her light against the horizon. They headed for the trees and made their way towards the hill, where demons still flew out.

  “Can you see anything?” Keepsie whispered.

  “There is a hole in the side of the hill,” Tomas replied. “And Doodad is there.”

  “That’s where Peter is,” Keepsie said, and inched closer. The hole was clear now. “So. Who has superhearing?” Keepsie asked.

  “Why are you asking us this? You know what we can do,” Tomas asked, sounding annoyed.

  “Sorry. I’m just feeling like we’re the only ones that can stop them, but I have no idea what to do,” Keepsie said, abashed.

  Barry silenced them and looked at the hill. Clever Jack climbed out of the hole and looked at the horizon. He laughed, and Keepsie cringed at the sound.

  “Doodad! She’s on her way back!” he said. “She’s waking up!”

  Keepsie felt her throat close with adrenaline. Now was the time, before that door closed. Her legs locked up and her vision swam. What was she going to do? Yell at them?

  “Keepsie? We need to do something now,” Barry said mildly.

  She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Right. You guys distract him. I’ve got to get in that hill.”

  “But how—” Barry asked, but Tomas interrupted him.

  “Barry, your leg please.”

  “What? Oh,” Barry said, and twisted his left leg off at the thigh. He held onto Colette’s shoulder for balance and handed the leg to Tomas.

  Tomas hefted the leg to his shoulder, javelin-style. The leg remained stiff, and Tomas grunted as he heaved it. His brief burst of strength gave it enough velocity that Keepsie actually heard the wind whistling through the leg hair.

  While the leg was airborne, Keepsie shot forward and dashed towards Doodad. Tomas was right behind her; Barry had to wait for the new leg to grow in before he could run.

  The leg hit Doodad squarely in the face, foot-first, and he fell backwards in a howl of pain. As he staggered and fell, Keepsie saw something shine against the unholy glow of—yes, the girl was approaching them fast. Keepsie dropped to her knees and felt around for it.

  Doodad’s voice was thick and garbled with pain as he swore. Keepsie remembered Clever Jack and shouted a warning to Tomas.
<
br />   It was too late. Clever Jack’s power kicked in as Tomas got to him, making Tomas slip in the grass and fall hard on his belly, knocking the wind out of him.

  Clever Jack stood beside them, watching the three of them in their various positions in the grass.

  Clever Jack bent down to where Tomas lay, struggling to get his breath. “You guys are certainly more entertaining than the heroes. Did you really think you could—” he was cut off when Barry slipped behind him and swung at the back of the head with his leg, baseball-style. Barry whiffed and toppled over on his one leg as Clever Jack ducked.

  So heroic, Keepsie thought. Doodad was starting to rise and she scrambled around the grass faster.

  Her eyes must have been adjusting to the dark because she finally spied the ball near Doodad’s shoulder. He clutched his face with his hands and smeared blood all over his cheeks.

  Her hand closed around the small, warm sphere right as Doodad’s hand fell on hers. She nearly sobbed with relief as the villain froze beside her.

  “No!” screamed Clever Jack lunging at her. He landed on her full force and she fell backwards with his weight on her.

  What’s wrong, why didn’t I get him? She realized he was too smart to try to steal from her. He grabbed her lapels and shook her.

  “You are your pathetic little friends are not going to ruin this for us!” he said. His breath was hot and foul. “Let him go or I’ll make you wish the heroes had killed you.”

  Her left hand was closed tightly on the ball but her right was free. Tomas, Barry and Colette looked at each other and nodded. Could Clever Jack’s luck protect him from all four of them?

  Her right hand was close to Doodad’s immobile fingers. She grabbed the frozen villain’s hand and swung Doodad like a weapon just as the three standing attacked.

  Barry was unlucky again, his right leg coming free from his body even as he swung his left. He fell on his left side and grunted. Colette swung with her knife, slicing into Barry’s leg. Tomas also missed, growling low in his throat and swinging a punch at Clever Jack that Keepsie knew had his brief superstrength behind it. Right as he swung, Clever Jack leaned in again and opened his mouth to say something else, but Doodad’s immobile body connected with his head and he fell off Keepsie and stirred briefly in the grass.