Almost Infamous: A Supervillain Novel (16 page)

Nevermore fought the Darklighter, a man in a black trench coat, fedora, and goggles who shot balls of brilliant white light that destroyed her projections. Foghorn Girl let out another blaring roar, taking Firewall to her knees. Former standup comic and rehab reality show mainstay Furious Frank punched Swashbuckler in the shoulder, taking him down so overdramatically that it wouldn’t have passed muster in a daytime soap.

Spasm had it worst. Sea Cowboy (
huh, he’s still alive?
), the half-cowboy, half-seahorse superhero, had Spasm tied up in a lasso and was spinning him over his head while shouting out the heartiest “YEE-HAW!” I could imagine. Spasm’s face said he wasn’t acting.

Focus.

The rope snapped, sending Spasm flying onto the hood of a parked car. I ran to him, helping him up and out of the rope. No way was I going to deal with these guys alone.

“I don’t think these guys were told to stage-fight!” Spasm said, tearing the remains of the lasso off.

“I don’t think these guys were told to be sane!” I replied, looking back over my shoulder to see Spongeman running at us and screaming like a maniac.

“We gotta lose!” he said.

“Running away still counts as losing!” I said, looking to see that our finish line was not that far away. All that stood in our way was four (soon to be five) almost-heroes and a few dozen copies of Everywhere Man watching us from the sidewalk, pretending to be pedestrians.

“Got any ideas?” I asked. Spasm always had plans, probably all his IRA training, which was pretty nice when you had him on a team.

“A few, you?”

“Just one.”

I told him mine and he told me his. We put them together in a way that I was pretty sure would get us out with a loss and a victory. All that was left was hoping these heroes were as noble as they thought they were.

Sticking his hands out and separating them in a wave, Spasm made nearly all of the pedestrians double over sick and vomiting, distracting the heroes. He made sure to leave the two Everywhere Man copies closest to us alone, and we ran for them, each wrapping an arm around one of their necks.

“Heroes, surrender, or we will kill this woman and… child?” I proclaimed. The hostages were my idea. I was almost giddy when I saw it work.

Huffing and wheezing from his run, Spongeman shouted back, “We’ll never surrender to your likes!”

“Well—wait, you did hear that we’d kill them, right?” I asked.

The other heroes looked at Spongeman like he was an idiot. My Everywhere Man copy even broke character, saying, “See, this is why you never made the big leagues, Stan.”

“Shut up, Waldo,” Spongeman shot back.

“Is everyone all right?” I asked the others. Firewall and Nevermore flashed me a thumbs-up.

Swashbuckler simply called back, “Furious Frank said I was knocked unconscious in the fray!”

Keeping in character, we marched our hostages, and the rest of our team (with Firewall dragging Swashbuckler by one of his legs) to the finish line. Some of the loot had been lost in the battle, but we’d gotten enough of it that this would easily qualify as a good loss. A textbook Silver Age Escape.

Feeling a moment of inspiration, I turned to the heroes, raised my fist and shook it, screaming, “WE’LL GET YOU NEXT TIME, HEROES!”

The judges didn’t stop to give us comments, but rather sent us to another tent set up near the end of town. This one had picnic tables covered with food and drinks, and thank merciful God in heaven several porta-potties. I think the relief I felt visiting one of those was about as close as I’ll ever get to heaven.

Firewall and Ghost Girl had a table to themselves. They both looked about as happy as I’d ever seen them. Firewall beckoned me over with a wave and a smile, but I was intercepted before I could make it to them.

“You were very impressive out there.”

“Thanks,” I said, turning to Nevermore. “I don’t like to brag or anything, but…” I shrugged, hoping to look roguish and have the opportunity to brag.

“I think you will make it to the final choosing.”

I looked over to Firewall and Ghost Girl, who now turned away from me. Ghost Girl was shaking her head softly.

“I’m hoping I will, but that’s really up to the judges,” I said, trying to sound humble, but agreeing with her completely. I
owned
that test.

“I am worried I won’t,” she said, looking away, slightly sad.

“I think you will!”

“Do you?”

“Of course!”

We danced this dance for a while, her showing a new doubt about her performance, me reassuring her, her face brightening up before darkening again, rinse and repeat. I was pretty sure that she was using me for compliments, but if it made the approach to getting her in bed easier, I would let her use me however she wanted.

After about ten minutes of this, the third group, containing Odigjod and Carnivore, came in. Most of the team looked hurt, bleeding and limping. The way Carnivore roared and kicked over a table before stalking off to the edge of the tent made me think their run didn’t go so well. Odigjod running to the table with Firewall and Ghost Girl and burying his head in his hands confirmed it.

Nevermore was still talking, but I lost track of what she was saying, making my way to their table.

“—couldn’t have been that bad,” Firewall was saying, patting him on the back.

“It
was
,” he sobbed, pounding one of his tiny fists on the table and burning a hole clear through it.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Their attempt didn’t go so well,” Ghost Girl said, then motioning her head to Carnivore. “There was a breakdown in leadership, maybe a misplaced teleportation or two, Carnivore lost his shit because of his perception of Odigjod as the team’s weak link and wound up killing some civilians… you know the story.”

“Carnivore?” I said, taking a seat at the table next to Odigjod. “He’s just an asshole, don’t listen to him.”

“But Odigjod
did
screw up!” Odigjod said. “Odigjod failed for his team, and now he won’t making the team and is going to be sent away!”

“You’re not going to the Tower,” I said, patting him on the back.

“No, Odigjod’s work exchange program prevents that. Going to an worse place if losing.
Home
.”

Going home sure didn’t sound worse than the Tower. I mean, I know home for him was hell, but he was used to it, so it couldn’t be that bad.

He continued, “Home’s where Odigjod’s expected to keep the family business, to torment the gluttonous damned. For generations the family has done it and never dreamed of more. But Odigjod dreams! Odigjod wants to be more than just a imp like the rest! Odigjod wants to be special! Odigjod could be an real demon if he tried, but can’t try back home! Out here… there’s ambition. Chances. Opportunities. If not in the villain’s team… no second chance topside.”

It still didn’t sound as bad as the Tower, but I still felt for him. Odigjod may have been ugly as sin, a minion of Hell, a bit naïve, and in need of some English classes, but he meant well. I didn’t want to see him crying like this.

This would require some drastic measures.

“Did you have to fight Spongeman?” I asked.

He shook his head. “That was for the Zone Runner.”

“Well, I’m sure he did fine, anyone could against Spongeman. But did you see him?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know I made him scream?”

He shook his head.

“It was great. Back me up, Firewall.”

I doubt she saw it, but she could pick up where I was going. “It
was
probably the funniest thing I’ve seen you do on purpose.”

“It was?” Odigjod asked.

“Oh yeah,” I said, describing the battle with just enough embellishment to make Odigjod laugh. Firewall liked Odigjod enough that she let me get away with more than usual, which was nice, especially when I focused on the table Carnivore had kicked over, crudely shaped it like Spongeman and launched it through the ceiling with my best imitation of his scream. I don’t think it made him forget his fear or anything, but it was a distraction and made him laugh just long enough that the fear wasn’t all he was focused on.

Firewall and Ghost Girl did the same, sharing our war stories, most of them at the expense of Spongeman. Even Felix joined in when his team finished. After a while we got a few funny stories out of Odigjod when he’d calmed down enough. It didn’t sound as bad as he’d first said, especially once he got laughing, but it did sound like one big mess that might get him cut if the judges weren’t feeling merciful.

I worried that he might be another Showstopper; I didn’t know how any of us would last without Odigjod.

Finally, the fifth team came in. If it was possible, they looked even worse than Odigjod’s team, which only boosted the imp’s confidence.

Once we were all in the tent, Blackjack summoned us back to Anytown. For the first time after a test, I was eager to hear the results. I was pretty confident that I’d make it to the final choosing, which meant a fifty-fifty chance to make the team, and those were great odds by my estimation.

“I’m going to hazard a guess that that was the nicest thing you’ve ever done,” Ghost Girl said, strolling beside me.

“Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes behind her mask. “I love that you still think you can hide things from me.”

As usual, I couldn’t fool her. Making sure nobody was looking closely at us, I was able to drop the Apex Strike bravura. “Can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

“I can, but I won’t.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because when you’re not trying to impress anyone, you’re actually a pretty decent guy, and maybe, almost, kinda cute.”

“Maybe? Almost?
Kinda
?”

“If I were to be generous,” she said, offhand. “Don’t make me reconsider.”

“Hey, I’m cute all the time!” I protested, too loudly, even though I knew it was a lie, but it was the only defense I could think of to what she said.

“No, you’re not!” Firewall called from the head of the group.

Ghost Girl and I looked at each other for a moment before we burst out laughing.

Come to think of it, I was pretty sure that was the first time I’d ever heard her laugh. I’d have commented on it, but by the time I realized it, we were at the judges table.

The Tri-Hole was already open behind them. They meant to do this quick. As usual, Blackjack gave us her speech about how many of us were eliminated and how many were moving on. As usual, I closed my eyes.

I’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfineI’mfine…

Black Blur whirred past us. People were plucked off their feet.

I wasn’t one of them.

I opened my eyes. Odigjod, Firewall, Felix, and Ghost Girl had all made it through. So had Carnivore, Circus, Nevermore, Spasm, and a few others I didn’t know very well.

We were the final fourteen. Half of us would make the team, half of us wouldn’t.

The judges disappeared one at a time into the Tri-Hole. Blackjack was last. She took the bare stub of the cigar from her lips and crushed it out underfoot.

“This one’s off the record, but I just want to say I’m damn proud of you kids. You’ve all earned your spots here. We got a surprise for you tomorrow before the final choosing. Not gonna spoil it now, but consider it your informal, final test.”

My stomach sank at the thought. I thought we were done with tests. We all had.

“But don’t fret, I’m sure y’all are gonna do great. To take the edge off, I’ve had a little something I think you’re gonna like delivered to camp. Just take it easy, relax, and have fun.”

Fun. Right. How the hell were we gonna have fun after
that
bombshell?

Alcohol.

The answer to that question was alcohol.

While we were away at the test, a bar had been installed just outside the mess hall stocked with a wide selection of beers and liquors. There were also games, balls, and even a few musical instruments dropped off for our enjoyment, though most of these went unused. Felix was pretty good with a guitar though, and after a few shots he started to cut loose on 80s South American pop songs. After we got the bonfire started and Carnivore passed out from the three bottles of whiskey he’d polished off, it felt pretty close to the party we had on the first night.

Just without anyone dying.

I didn’t drink. I wanted to, and there was a lot of liquor I’d have liked to try, but I didn’t want to be hungover for tomorrow. I couldn’t fuck up, not after making it this far, not after all I’d done. I considered finally propositioning Nevermore, but not an hour into the party she was sloppy drunk and stumbling about. It might have made things easier for me, but the odds were that she’d pass out the moment she was horizontal, and while I might have been a supervillain, I wasn’t
that
evil.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ghost Girl walking slowly toward the town ruins, her black cloak almost completely masking her in the night. Was she crazy? Leaving the barracks area at night wasn’t safe. I mean, she knew how to take care of herself better than most people here, but this…

Sighing, I followed her.

“Wait up!”