Novels2Search

56 - Post Haste

Clara sat at the edge of the emptied trailer, kicking her legs back and forth alternatively as she ate through a toast sandwich with a content smile on her face. The outer pieces were a fortified loaf that had vitamins and minerals to make it more of a well-rounded snack. The toasted middle layer was the techie’s favorite type of bread - a darker loaf that had sunflower seeds baked in.

The only break from the waterfall of words Roxy spewed forth in updating her on the interview on the way home was a brief stop so Clara could run into a supermarket and pick out the food. Much more interesting to me, however, was the box that sat next to her on the trailer.

My Public Defender order, that she had picked up while we were in the League. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to open it before the workshop had been set up.

“What do you mean ‘there weren’t any instructions?’” Roxy stood with hands on her hips and a fresh scowl leveled my way.

[They are just box shaped. I didn’t think we’d need instructions.]

Since the super was able to lift the flatpack rooms in their entirety, my role had been sidelined to just unpacking the accessories such as windows and doors. Now surrounded by the discarded mess that I had laid out to put the useful pieces in a handy-to-grab-grid, I felt as though I’d probably not get out of this unharmed if I didn’t find those instructions.

[I’m sure they are around here somewhere.]

“I’m not about to half-ass this. What if it ends up collapsing and killing Clara one day, just because you’re too good to read, Dubs?”

“A tomb of my beloved machines. I can think of no better way to go.”

Roxy turned her scowl to the techie. “Shut it, gremlin.”

Kneeling down, I located a little booklet taped to the side of one of the square windows. Tore it off gently and opened it up as I stood.

The super came and stopped beside me so she could glance at it too. “Barely lunchtime and I’m exhausted already. Stressful morning, huh?”

[Indeed.]

“But we’ll take it easy for the rest of the day?”

[Certainly. I’d like that.]

“We’re… going to fight tomorrow, right?”

[Yes.]

“And you’re ready for that?”

[Yes.]

“Are you… worried about losing?” She grinned.

I turned my gaze away from the instructions to look at her. Folded them closed briefly so that I could pull my goggles off and onto my forehead.

[No, Roxy. I am worried about winning.]

She ran her tongue across her teeth as she maintained eye contact, absorbing in the meaning of what I said. “Asshole,” she eventually decided. “I’ll win even if I have to kill you.”

[Less flirting, more workshop assembly.]

“Hey,” Clara interjected, “that’s my line, Gunquake.”

Roxy flipped us both off before snatching the instruction booklet from my hand. Over the course of what was slightly longer than the suggested assembly time, we eventually got everything set up.

One smaller building that was about the same size as my own shack. I figured the techie could use an office or somewhere separate from the machinery we had yet to purchase. The second building was the size of four of the first. Single door for each and a couple of windows for natural light. Slightly slanted roofs for any rainfall, which wasn’t too common this time of year.

The super wiped the sweat from her brow and ran her fingers through her short red hair. “Well, there you go then, princess. Your own little castle, right on my doorstep.”

Clara was practically beaming, her green eyes glowing more than usual. “Thank you both so much. This is… it means a lot to me, even if it’s just the beginning.”

Roxy softened. “Just no weird stuff or loud noises at night, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure you two wouldn’t want competition.”

The super just growled at the techie, managing to restrain herself from throwing the freshly created workshop half a mile into the wastes. I ignored them both and went through, opening the door to the larger side of the workshop. Stepped inside.

A reasonable size that we could expand if necessary. The clean, slate-gray walls were soon to be dirtied with whatever Clara wanted to get up to, I was sure. But for now, it reflected my internal mood. A clean start. Fresh.

I hadn’t received a message from Boss since the blow-up. Wasn’t keen to be the one to start up that thread again, so perhaps whether he wanted this or not - I was moving on.

The techie pushed past me, her hand lingering on my gun-arm for a moment.

“There’s nothing quite like the sight of unrealized potential.” She looked around before smiling up at me.

[Is that a comment on the empty workshop, or me?]

“Gunquake.” She rolled her eyes. “We’ll set up the smaller room with the bed and some of the equipment cases. The rest can go in here while I decide what machinery we’ll need.”

[Not planning on sleeping in here, I hope?]

“Of course not.” She stepped across the floor, walking slowly to the other end of the workshop to take it all in. “I’m waiting to take back the spare room when you no longer need it.”

“I can still hear you out here, you know?”

Clara crossed her arms. “As the commute is horrible from out here, I’ve actually applied to work remotely more often. Unfortunately, that will mean you’ll be seeing a lot more of me, Gunquake.”

[I’ve suffered worse fates.]

“You say that now, but I will be a lot more possessive of you going forward. While you had previously offered yourself up as my pet project, Gunquake, I have yet to take fully advantage of that.”

[If it means improvements to my tech, then you can do whatever you want to me.]

Roxy stuck her head in the door to glare at us both. “Did you find this sack of dead meat some different stims, or am I burying you both tonight?”

“Yes,” Clara replied, giving her a brief curtsy.

“I’m going for a bath.” The super continued to grumble something inaudible as she stomped away toward the house.

I watched her leave for a moment, before turning my attention back to the smiling techie.

[I’m fifty percent sure my eventual death will be caused by one of you two.]

“There’s a valid reason I keep annoying her, Gunquake.” She tilted her head to the side. “A tale for another day, I’m afraid. You already have enough on your plate.”

[Does it have to be innuendo, though?]

“Oh, no. It’s just an easy route, since we’re all on the same page with how things stand. Plus, I like to have a little fun, too.” She gave me a coy smile before looking out of one of the windows. “And speaking of fun, I managed to get you one stim pack to last you the duel. Adrenaline and regeneration meds. Not as potent as you’re used to, but… I did what I could.”

[I appreciate it, Clara. May I have my order now?]

“Since you asked so politely, yes.” She gestured for me to leave. “What else do you have planned for the day, Gunquake?”

[Planning is not something I’ve often cared for. You were still working on the home defense?]

“Indeed.” The techie put a hand up to her eyes to shade from the sun as we stepped out. “I have the necessary item. It just needs setting up. Will provide us a dome that will catch both speedsters and anything that can fly.”

[That’s somewhat comforting. As much as being out in the wild was nice at first, it does leave us stranded to some degree.]

She nodded as we continued to the trailer. “Understandable. Short of automated turrets, I believe we are as secure as necessary. Few would try assaulting the home of two supers… and someone as formidable as myself.”

[You have a point.]

Clara smiled. “After the defense dome, Rockslide has collared me for training. She is going to take me down into the basement and do unspeakable things with me, Gunquake. Not only for my own benefit, but she wants some last-minute training for tomorrow.”

[Ah. I should probably do something similar.]

She withdrew a knife and cut down the tape sealing the box of goodies. “If only there were two of me, Gunquake. Although, that would be potentially fatal for one of us, no doubt.” Knife folded shut, she allowed me to open it up.

Standard issue pistol. Several grenade types. A tool kit that put my old one to shame. We were trying to prepare me for any occasion - a necessity when I didn’t have a superpower to fall back on against whatever foes the League pitched at me. Clara helped me gear up - the extra bulk and weight of the additional gear actually feeling more comfortable than without.

As if I were painting a picture into grooves already outlining the finished image.

Roxy whistled from the porch, and we turned to see her. “Imagine needing all that just to mimic a fraction of my power.”

[I hear you’re training the rest of the day. Not as confident as you sound.]

She pulled a face and mulled over what to respond with. Eventually, she just scowled at the techie. “Hurry your ass up, Clara.”

“Duty calls, Gunquake. I’ve been through Rockslide’s contract before, so I can help you with yours later?”

[You are a lifesaver, Clara. I would appreciate that.]

“We can add ‘secretary’ to the list. Personal assistant, nurse, mechanic, seductress…”

“Quit hassling Dubs, or you’ll get it twice as hard! The training exercise, I mean. Fuck.” Roxy continued to swear under her breath as Clara gave me a shrug and walked off.

I wasn’t sure why exactly her flirting with me to annoy the super was a key necessity, but it was amusing enough. At least, until Roxy took that pent up anger out on me tomorrow.

There was a non-zero chance I would end up with a broken bone or two, and the real test would be if she would stop at that point, as she had the first time. It was as much a test for her to subdue me to the point that I would give up as anything else. She had seen how I turned up after some of my contracts. What lengths I would go to win at my own detriment.

Short of tearing my head off, I would keep going until I literally couldn’t anymore.

Once the others were in the house, I looked around the area to see what mischief I could get myself into. Could help out and move some of the cases between the house and workshop - but Clara was rather protective over some of them, and I wouldn’t want to transport the wrong thing or catch a glimpse at some of the unspeakable horrors she had alluded to.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Considered going to see Hal, but I’d had enough of being in the city for one day. Nothing really worth ordering last minute for tomorrow at this point. Still, my eyes went over to my bike… and a little plan was hatched.

Gunquake: You busy?

Captain Snaps: Just with my folks.

Captain Snaps: What’s up?

Gunquake: Meet at the following coords when you’re free.

Sent him the information. Switched the bike on and rode out into the wastes. Only a handful of minutes away - but soon enough, I was over by our delivery drop off.

No sooner had I switched the bike off, Roy slid into the scene, followed by a trail of dust. Gray tank top and black sweatpants - his attire much more casual seeing as he was suspended for two weeks.

“By the gods, look at you, Dubs.” He whistled and put his hands on his hips as I stepped off of the bike. “You’re not only recovered from the other night, but you look ten times as fucking badass.”

[You know what they say. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.]

“That doesn’t usually mean a full tactical outfitting. Was almost willing to believe you asked me out here to execute me.”

[Nothing quite so permanent, I’m afraid. I have some news for you, however. The League has offered me superhero induction.]

His eyebrows raised, the smirk on his face vanishing away. “No shit? Not just a sidekick, but the full fuckin’ deal?”

[Subject to a complete induction, correct.]

“Oh, shit.” He shook his head in disbelief. “When you asked me to vouch for you, I honestly thought you had no chance. But now… there’s a real chance you’ll be able to join the super group?”

[I’m going to unfuck you assholes until you’re a fully functioning unit.]

Roy worked out his shoulders. “Literal chills, Dubs. I’m sure you didn’t ask me out here to whisper sweet nothings, though?”

[I need to do some training where I don’t injure myself. I was wondering, since we’ll be teammates soon, if you’d run some antagonistic and cooperative drills with me?]

“Oh. Sure. I doubt I’d hurt you much anyway - most people don’t realize this, but just because I move fast doesn’t mean I can hit harder. I’m limited by how much my arm can withstand.”

[So you can do a lot more utility-wise?]

He nodded. “You got a mag in? Hold your arm out.”

I did in fact have a Nerve mag in. As per his request, I held my gun-arm straight, pointed off to the side toward the horizon.

“Eject the mag.”

Air displaced around me as my synapse connection gave the signal to drop the magazine. A blur of the speedster around my left side, and my trench-coat rustled. Roy stopped off to the side again, a cloud of dry dust raising away from his movements.

I now had a different magazine loaded.

“Might not always be a quicker or more comfortable way of doing it, but in the heat of the moment or if your left arm is busy, it might be useful?”

[Are we able to sync my control of that to your STAR system so that you get a notification when I require you to switch for me?]

He furrowed his brow and scratched at his head. “Ah. Beyond my capabilities, but if you ask that toa- if you ask Clara, I’m sure she would be able to do it.”

I stood for a moment just staring at him until he started to get uncomfortable.

“Alright, I’ll add her to my apology tour.” He sighed and crossed his arms. “You’re a piece of work, Dubs. Reconnected with my folks and feel like a hero again. All it took was double-crossing the assholes I had been cozying up to.”

[Boss contacted you since?]

Roy shook his head. “Radio silence. Was half convinced I had an assassin on the way.”

Zero word from him made some sense. Whatever game he was playing, keeping at us at arms-length seemed to be Boss’s current plan. I was fine with that. Had my hands full with plenty of other things.

[I assume you could also grab a thrown grenade from the air and deliver it personally?]

“You’d assume correct.”

[What kind of weapon do you usually use?]

“Most of the time, nothing. I usually trip or distract - but sometimes a blunt club or similar is fine - it depends on the target. Definitely nothing sharp, as it’s hard to subdue a target with a stabbing weapon.”

[What about a taser?]

The speedster’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head to mull it over. “That could potentially work.”

I shook my head. Not sure whether it was the heroes being lazy, or the League not putting their all into their supers.

[No, even better than that. We will get you fist weapons that discharge like a taser when you punch someone. They can even make a ‘snap’ sound, if you like.]

"Oh. That’s… you can just do that?"

In truth, I wasn’t sure if that kind of thing needed to go through the red tape of the League. Maybe Roy would just have to apply for the change - I couldn’t see them declining it given that it was both an effective increase in his ability for the group and also matched his theme.

[No idea. I’ll not have a teammate arbitrarily weakened. Leave it with me. Before we start sparring, what do you think of Belle?]

He gave a brief shrug before looking out to the wastes. “Diplomatically speaking, I’m not sure why she’s even a hero. I mean - I know she has to be because she has a power, but her focus is never on the job. League just passed her onto us because support supers are few and far between.”

[Why is it she cares about this Church so much?]

“Beats me. I stay well clear of that shit. Like don’t get me wrong…” Roy shuffled his feet in the loose gravel. “I like a little depravity as much as the next guy, but her cult gives me creepy energy.”

I nodded slowly. For some reason, that gave me cause for concern. What people did in their own time was their business, assuming they turned up to do their job well. Something about the Church didn’t sit well with me. It was all very vague and sinister, despite the attempt to paint it over with the insinuation that it was just a weird sex thing.

That investigation was added to my post-duel schedule.

[Interesting. What about Wren?]

“For as stuck and grumpy she is, she is probably the most level-headed out of the group.” Roy scratched at the side of his beard. “She is at least focused within a mission and performs her role exceptionally well, but it’s like a switch as soon as we’re off the clock. Back to her businesses and babysitting her husband.”

[Do you think she could provide more in a mission?]

He gave me a wry grin. “That’s a loaded question, Dubs. I wouldn’t want to disparage the elf, but I’ll tell you I could count the number of times I’ve seen her fire that bow on one hand.”

[Noted. Thank you, Roy.]

Second on the agenda would be Wren. I wasn’t sure if she’d be more or less difficult to bend into the shape our group needed. Her businesses weren’t any likelier to become a secondary thought just because I wanted her to be a better hero. We’d have to see, in time.

“You also pulling this leader voodoo on Rox as well?” Roy tilted his head. “She fine with you taking over?”

[Roxy will always be the leader, I am just acting in the group's best interest. And yes, we have an extended session tomorrow.]

“Oh?” His grin widened. “You sly dog.”

I rolled my eyes and moved to get into a defensive position.

[She has to beat me in a duel.]

The grin turned more quizzical, but he was no less amused. “Really? No offense, Dubs, but that seems weighted against you a little.”

[She lost the first one, so this is a rematch.]

“Fair. Would pay to see that, though. I can imagine out of anyone, you’d be a right prickly bastard to get rid of. That explains this training session, then.”

[We’ll start with some light sparring. Just try punching me at a normal speed and then we’ll gradually increase and see how far I can keep up.]

He didn’t even wait to give me a response before launching forward with his first punch, something I deflected with my left arm - both my coat and the gauntlet underneath absorbing the blow. The speedster was going no faster than a decently trained boxer, and already it was keeping me on my toes.

Past memories seeped through my thick skull. Things I knew but were hidden on shelves too high to reach. Once again, combat shook them loose to land in my wanting hands. Or hand, as the case may be.

Supers were said to have three states, and part of the reason the League took them in at a young age was to define these states for stability reasons. The first step was called Latent. In this state, they were like any other person, give or take. Their powers were fully controlled and almost neutered. It was the reason Roxy could live around the house normally, without tearing doors off hinges or crushing me to death every time we hugged.

Next state was Active. Pretty self explanatory, but it meant the super was using their power. Depending on what their abilities were and how well trained the person in question was, there was a sliding scale of how Active their superpower was. Just like right now - Roy started to speed up, but it wasn’t his full speed. Maybe ten to twenty percent of his maximum.

Punches became much more difficult to block. Every third would get me in the flank or chest. For some reason, this angered me. Like being needled by an annoying fly. I turned the annoyance into purpose and activated Reflex. Left arm wasn’t any quicker, but now my gun-arm picked up the pace, and I turned to allow it to block the next five strikes in succession.

Roy slid back away, shaking his fist out. “Ouch, you motherfucker. What was that, though?”

[That? Oh, I just started taking things seriously.]

A little bluff, as the empowered ability sunk away just as we started talking. Still only useful for five to ten seconds, I’d need to find out if there was a way to extend the duration.

“Bullshit. You’re a super really, aren’t you?”

I shook my head. Super soldier, but no superpowers. Now... I started to dislike the way everything had the word super in its name.

[Advanced, the League told me. Based on my life up to this point I would assume durability, but they wouldn’t tell me the scores.]

“I would be interested to know exactly what you are.” He grinned and readied up his fists.

[You and I both, Roy.]

The final state for a super was called Burnout. Often achieved through massive stress, emotional turmoil, or true willpower. Going beyond the limits of their normal power, often at great personal cost. It was a coin toss whether the hero would come back weakened or the same… and there was a rare chance that they’d end up stronger after the fact. Too risky to gamble on it.

In some ways, I had been doing that to myself. Not entirely pushing any power to the limit, but my whole self. To the edge of death on multiple occasions in the hope I could break through some of the clouds hiding away my old life.

And it had worked.

In the interview, it hadn’t been anything pre-rehearsed. I had gotten a feel of the abilities of the trio just from some experience long held, and my normally silver tongue had turned gold to melt into their ears. Even if the exact memories of that life were erased or buried too deep, the knowledge of how to act and my strength as a literal anti-hero had washed away the cobwebs in my mind and I was starting to act the part.

Roy and I sparred for a good hour more, but I would falter between thirty and fifty percent of his comfort speed. Amazing in some regards, but it left a sour taste in my mouth. Or an empty feeling in my lack of mouth. I was never going to match him like that, anyway. That’s why I had all the tools at my disposal.

“Not half bad, Dubs,” the speedster said, rubbing at his knuckles. “I’m sure if that was a real fight, you’d pull some bullshit moves to gain the advantage, though.”

[If that was a real fight, I would hope you’d be sensible enough to run from it.]

He grinned. “Let’s just say I’m happy being on your side. I’ve gotta run now, but thanks for calling me out.”

[Was good seeing you, Roy. Take care.]

With a nod and quick salute, the speedster turned and zipped off through the wastes. A cloud of dust billowing in his wake.

I stretched out. Sweaty now beneath the many layers of my outfit, the protracted training had been some good exercise. Now I hungered for a fresh canister. As I stepped back over to my bike, a notification came through on my goggles.

//Clara: I have been made to exercise.

//Clara: My legs no longer function.

//Clara: I hold you entirely to blame, Gunquake.

//Gunquake: You’ve seen the basement?

//Gunquake: What is it like?

//Clara: A hell of polished chrome and insurmountable weight.

//Clara: And so much sweat.

//Clara: I am avoiding the taskmaster by having a bath.

//Gunquake: Do you have sufficient bubbles?

//Clara: Normally I would ask if you would like to check, Gunquake.

//Clara: But I feel this punishment is perhaps earned and I shouldn’t invite further suffering.

//Gunquake: I’m on my way home. We’ll talk soon.

I shook my head out. A bubble bath did sound delightful, however - so I’d need to take over the bathroom once she was finished. Needed to check my healing wounds and make sure I was fit enough for tomorrow. Stim pack was still by the house, as I didn’t want to use it up during training when I might need all of it for the duel. My injuries from the other day hadn’t felt any worse despite not having the supply… which was almost concerning.

Bike revved up and away I went, the journey feeling even shorter with my distracted mind focused on the looming battle. As our little neighborhood came into view, I noticed that the super was laying out on the deckchair. Parked myself up near my kill-room and stepped over.

She was wearing a black tank top and matching shorts, her pale legs on full display. As I approached, she must have caught my curious look.

“I realized today that I was giving too many fucks about some things and not enough fucks about others.” She shrugged before holding out a cool canister. “Clara said you were on the way.”

[I appreciate it. Sounds like you gave her quite the workout.]

“Yeah.” Roxy gave me a tired smile. “Hopefully that will stop her from acting like a cat in heat for five minutes.”

Empty canister popped from my neck and I placed the new one in with a short hiss. The fresh liquid seeped into my system and I relaxed.

[If only we were so lucky. You know, she asked to have dibs on me if you died.]

The super snorted and rolled her eyes. “Before my body was even cold, no doubt.” She sighed and leaned back in the deckchair. “Clara doesn’t get close to many people, so I can understand it. If there wasn’t something between us… well, I don’t think she’d want a relationship, but no doubt she’d coerce you into some manner of freaky companionship.”

I took hold of my deckchair and moved it from my side of the property line so that I could place it down directly beside hers. As I lay next to her, she put her hand on my gun-arm.

“I suppose it’s comforting to know you’d look after her if anything did happen to me.”

[It has been my view for a while that the pair of you are almost a package deal. If anything, it is nice that I have a found family. I am so close to where I was my lowest, yet I have come so far, and I have both of you to thank.]

“You yap too much sometimes, Dubs.” She leaned over so her head rested on my shoulder. “I’ve always thought you had great potential, but seeing you in that interview this morning… I was kinda stunned by your ambition and how savvy you were. Was difficult to hide the hearts in my eyes.”

[I seem to be becoming more of my old self subconsciously. As glad as I am for the positive things this brings, I was worried that I’d become something you no longer liked.]

“No, Dubs. You’ve certainly changed from the smelly introvert that didn’t want anything to do with me, but if you are just becoming more you, then I’m still fully onboard. Today just solidified that you aren’t just one crazy hot hunk of a killer, but you’ve got the smarts and ambition to run a super group.”

[You’ll still be the leader, but I will do my best to be your second in command.]

“A partnership, instead?”

[Sure.]

We sat in silence for a while, just looking out at the endless wastes and enjoying a moment of peace. As the evening drew closer, we made the pact to get an early night and leave any further emotional bonding till the next day so as not to taint our fight.

Soon enough, I was waiting in my bed for darkness to take me. Bathed and in decent shape. Knowing that I didn’t want to win, but would push myself to the limit to at least try to. Different scenarios passed through my head. My hand moved, imagining the placement of certain items so that I could grab them with practiced precision when the time came.

Tried to think of how she would try to counter me, and how I would react to that.

I would by lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the process. Some part of me relishing the clash of wits and attempt to beat out the odds in facing a super with such power over me. Yet with this elation came an uncomfortable lump.

Something still sat just below the surface. An elephant in the room that I had caught a glimpse of, but now vanished anytime I tried to locate it.

As my brain tried to discover this clue once more, I slowly slipped into the darkness of sleep.

The long fated day was impatient to arrive.