Almost Infamous: A Supervillain Novel (21 page)

On game day, they’d told us to suit up and gather in the mansion’s “Green Room,” so named for the grassy coating that covered every square inch of wall. It was dark and small, but had comfortable chairs to spare, a flat screen to kill some time, and the healing pods.

According to Adam (Helios, but I can call him Adam), they were some of Professor Death’s finest genetic mutations. There were ten of them, growing out of the walls. Bulbous, pulsating seed pods the size of small cars, each covered in thick blue veins, each with a quivering, glistening slit down the middle that looked far too much like a pussy for comfort. He said that a few hours in one of them would heal pretty much any wound or sickness shy of being killed. While I hoped I’d never have to see the inside of one of them, I knew the odds were that I would.

And somehow, they paled in comparison to what that damn light did to me.

It was a simple bulb, jutting out of the wall right above the flat screen. At the moment it was red. But when it was show time, it would turn green.

Until then, we had to wait, which meant listening to Trojan Fox continue working on the unauthorized alterations to her suit (the war paint she’d put on her helmet’s face to reflect her mother’s Maori heritage was pretty awesome, though), Carnivore occasionally mauling Circus when he cheated at cards (which was often), or watching TV.

Odigjod and I chose TV, though his choice of reality shows left something to be desired.

“I do not understand this family. They are famous, why?” Odigjod griped.

“Because they’re famous.”

“But how did they getting famous?”

“Because they’re rich, I think.”

“But how did they—”

“The stepdad used to be a reservist for the Protectors, until he blew out his knee. He got enough sponsors in the meantime though to be pretty rich.”

“But the daughters, the wifes?”

“Not super, no. Unless you count leaking sex tapes a power. Why do you watch if all you do is bag on it?”

Odigjod shrugged. “Trying to figure out which circle they go to when they die, tell some cousins they might getting an famous face or two.”

“Well, you might too, right?”

“Not thinking so. Only sin they not showing is gluttony,” Odigjod sighed.

“Eating disorders must be hell for your circle.”

Odigjod waggled his hand back and forth. “Sometimes my parents fear for jobs, but your American companies and their corn syrup help.”

“Well, glad to hear we’re doing our part.”

Geode stopped pacing under the TV.

“Can I say something?” he said.

This was as good an excuse as any to mute the TV.

“Look… I know we don’t always get along. I know some of us maybe even hate each other—”

“Maybe?” Carnivore interrupted, a nonplussed Circus impaled on his claws. They’d have continued fighting if Trojan Fox hadn’t trained her suit’s weapons on them.

“Thanks,” Geode said, smiling. “I just wanted to say, I know we got our differences, but we’re in this together. We’re all we’ve got, I think. The superheroes…”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. “… I just want to say, I think we’re really the only people we can truly depend on, and that even if you don’t like me very much, I will protect you all.”

Carnivore sat up, the snarl on his face turning to a vague smile. “Awww, how sweet. We love you too, babykins…”

His smile curled into a yipping laugh, and for some insane reason we all found it hard not to join in, maybe, just maybe, because there was something about laughing all at once that made us feel like a team, even for just this moment.

So, of course, that’s when the light went green.

“IT’S TIME! SUIT UP!” I yelped, too loud, trying to keep the nerves from coming back entirely. Odigjod and Geode transformed into the larger, hulking, monstrous forms our image consultants had devised for them. Carnivore roared, pounding on his chest. Trojan Fox closed the last few plates of her suit.

I didn’t have anything cool to do like them, but I did close my visor and strike a pose so I wouldn’t be left out.

Odigjod placed one of his massive, shaggy hands on my shoulder. Though he looked like a big, goofy Muppet, the way his neon green fur wriggled like worms still unsettled me.

“Now?” he asked.

I didn’t want to go. I wanted to put this off as long as possible. I wanted to get over this stage fright that wouldn’t leave. I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I didn’t want to go to the Tower. I wanted a lot of things, but going now wasn’t one of them and it wouldn’t be—

We disappeared in a puff of smoke. Seconds later, I fell six feet to the ground in the middle of a busy street. I would have landed on my knees, hard, but the miniature anti-grav generators they’d built into my shin pads (the same kind they put into all girls’ tops and high heels to keep them looking hot and functional all at once) helped me land, and get back to my feet, looking cool and smooth.

Buildings towered all around me, some old, some modern, some so tall they blotted out the sun. Cars, buses, and taxis drove around me, honking, while hundreds of people on the sidewalks went about their daily lives, unaware that everything was about to change.

Welcome to Amber City.

I had to be the first. Everyone knew me, and I would look like the leader if I was first, especially if the team started appearing around me one at a time. I wanted to wait for them to show before doing anything, but I knew that wasn’t part of the plan.

Focus.

With arms raised and cape billowing behind me, I brought down several streetlights and signals, smashing them into cars. The hundreds of people walking the streets now noticed me, and all screamed at once.

We weren’t supposed to kill anyone, and we weren’t supposed to hurt them all that badly, so I really had to hold back my focus, but I think I made a good show of it. I stomped on the ground, sending out a wave of focus that blew out tires for a block, and waved at a few nearby office buildings, shattering all their windows.

People ran, screaming my name in terror. More importantly, they pulled out their cell phones to get this on video. Some braver, or at least stupider, souls even tried for selfies with me in frame.

Odigjod soon brought in Geode, who made a fine entrance by doubling his crystalline size and ripping a bus in half, followed by Carnivore, who chased after people and used his powerful claws to rip into cars as if they were made of tissue paper. Trojan Fox, Nevermore, and Circus, who started jumping around on a cartoony, powerful, and very destructive pogo stick, came right after, leaving Odigjod (Hellspawn) the last to make an official entrance.

I climbed on top of a ruined bus half, sending enough focus behind me to make my cape look dramatic.

Time to remember my speech.

I turned up the volume from my helmet’s speakers, turning it into a bullhorn that people would be able to hear from blocks away.

“CITIZENS OF THE WORLD, PAY ATTENTION! THE AGE OF THE SUPERHERO IS AT AN END! TOO LONG YOU HAVE LIVED IN COMPLACENCY WITH THEIR PROTECTION, AND NOW YOU WILL PAY FOR IT! WE ARE THE NEW OFFENDERS! WE ARE VILLAINY REBORN, AND NONE OF YOU ARE SAFE!”

A familiar voice came in my ear. “Nice job. Very dramatic.”

“THANKS!”

“Cut the loudspeakers, Aidan.”

“Sorry, Adam.”

“It happens. Make your way to the bank. We’ll be there in three.”

“You got it.”

“And Aidan?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Helios when we’re in costume.”

“Got it. Sorry.” I’d gotten used to being on a first name basis with him, but had to remember we were on the job now, so I had to keep in character.

I rushed to join the rest of the team when I heard gunshots. Cops. They weren’t part of the plan. Fear gripped me.
Our suits were bulletproof, right?
Nevermore projected a brick wall in front of the cops, deflecting their bullets while Trojan Fox cut their guns to pieces with her lasers.
All right, back on track.

With one strike from his massive right arm, Geode ripped open the front of the bank. Beams of hellfire and lasers from Odigjod and Trojan Fox opened up the vault, leaving Circus and the giant cartoon sack (with a oversized dollar sign on the front) he’d created to clear out the cash. I stepped up on an abandoned mailbox to give another speech, while Geode, Carnivore, and Nevermore kept the crowd in check (which, per their assigned personas, meant Geode stayed silent and intimidating, Carnivore paced around snapping and yipping, and Nevermore kissed a guard before punching him out). It was going like clockwork.

“We’re gonna be there in thirty. You loaded that playlist I gave you into your suit, right?” Helios asked.

“Yeah,” I said again.

“Cue up ‘Ballroom Blitz’ by the Sweet and press play when you throw the mailbox. I know it’s before your time, but it’ll add a lot to the fight. I’m gonna do the same.”

“Will do.”

“And Apex?”

“Yeah?”

“Have fun.”

I smiled as I cued up the song. “Yeah.”

A Tri-Hole opened in the middle of the bank, sparkling and green. As we were taught, we struck dramatic poses, ready for battle.
That’s right everyone, just keep taking pictures.

Even though I was still afraid, I was smiling under my visor and ready to put on a show.

Helios came out first, glorious and golden in his full costume, along with the rest of the archnemeses. We traded our scripted banter back and forth, him calling for our surrender, me telling him to fuck off, but with PG-13 words so our battle could be shown on the evening news. He gave us one last chance to surrender. Per the script, I flung some debris at him, and I started the song.

He was right, it did add to the fight.

Actually, it was about the only fun I had. I spent so much time focusing on the choreography, so many times trying not to miss a punch or a demonstration of my powers, that I couldn’t really get lost in the moment. Oh sure, I could improvise some, like when I needed to catch my breath and took a few human shields when our battle spilled out onto the street, but for the most part I had to stick to the script.

There were two main reasons for this:

1. Because the scripted battle would look cool as hell.

2. Following the script would keep us from getting really hurt.

Number two was the real important one. Our suits were designed to absorb a lot of abuse so we wouldn’t have to, but they could only do so much. When you’re flung to the ground by a telekinetic superhero, no amount of padding and rolling and telekinetic shielding is going to keep you from getting bruised. Or tasting blood. Or hearing the kind of pop in your knee that sends fire up your spine and makes you cry out like a little girl.

Looks like you’ll have to spend some time in one of the healing pods after all.

I could protect myself with my powers, some, but not like Helios. He had to act more than I did whenever I hit him with my powers, or flung a piece of debris at his face. He was in better shape, so he didn’t need to constantly find excuses to catch his breath, but I held to the script. I didn’t break character.

I was a good villain.

And like any good villain, I knew when to call our retreat.

Some of the heroes had herded civilians beneath the marquee of an old theatre, keeping them out of harm’s way. We knew this to be our cue to end the fight and get out of here.

I turned my outer speakers on full blast. “YOU WILL REGRET THIS, HELIOS!”

“As you will regret KILLING MY FRIEND!” he roared back, really selling the line as he shot energy beams from his hands to split the street in front of me. I rolled out of the way—as we’d planned—and focused on the marquee. It collapsed on the screaming people.

“NOW, HELIOS, YOU CAN LET US GO… OR LET THEM DIE!!!”

The look on his face was pained, with maybe the slightest bit of overacting so people further away could see. Still, he flew to help the trapped citizens. If I were watching this on TV, I’d wonder why; the marquee was cheap wood and plaster and most of the people could have freed themselves if they wanted to, but it was expected of him as a hero.

I turned the speakers off. “Odigjod, get us out of here.”

“Understood.” He appeared and disappeared in several puffs of smoke, taking Circus, Nevermore, Trojan Fox, and Geode with him. I was setting up for my grand finale, leveling a nearby, ancient tenement that the Protectors said I could destroy to my heart’s content, when I heard Carnivore cry out in pain. I turned around to see that a silver arrow had pierced his chest. Another soon erupted from his stomach. Silver Shrike and Morningstar followed the arrows by violently beating him to the ground, soon joined by Fifty-Fifty and Extreme Man. They tied him up and haloed him and almost made me forget to destroy the tenement in my shock.

This wasn’t part of the script.

I kept up my end. I focused on the building as people ran out, screaming. Odigjod appeared, grabbed my shoulder, and in a flash I was back in the Green Room.

The others were cheering and out of breath, ditching pieces of costume as they celebrated our first success. I removed my helmet and tried not to look too confused.