In some ways this was my penance. I knew that I couldn’t get away with murder for so long, even though I was discounting the several times I had almost died. A wholehearted attempt at having a peaceful day of rest and enjoying the company I now kept couldn't go unchallenged.
Now ruined, as I felt any energy completely drain from my body.
The three of us stood around the square shape of dirt that was a different color than that around it. Partly because it had—until very recently—been beneath my shack of five years. The other reason was due to a chunk of it being a wooden coffin. As decrepit as something so long lost in the dark could be. A thought that itched like a maggot across the mirror of self-reflection.
“Is it a bomb or something?” Roxy’s face was a picture of apprehensive concern. “I could just chuck it?”
Clara shook her head. “It could be something biological. For example, if Gunquake’s kill-switch wasn’t functional, a gas could be pumped up through the floor.”
“To knock him out?”
“I suppose? I’d go for something that permeates the skin, breaks you down at the cellular level. Eventually our dear Gunquake would end up a mask and shotgun amidst a puddle of his former self.”
The super scowled at the woman. “Damn it, Clara. Do you not have some scans or something that can pick out what is inside?”
“There’s nothing worrying that Erin has picked up.” She jerked her thumb back at our Krellian defense technology - which seemed to have a name now.
Roxy turned to me. “Are you alright, Dubs? You’ve been really quiet.”
I had, and perhaps for good reason. Whatever was inside that coffin had been laying beneath where I had slept the past five years. First question in my mind was why? Even if it was a bomb or some alternative way for Boss to get rid of me, why did he choose a coffin, of all things?
It could just be something simple and unrelated to me. A rival that Boss had offed or a rogue Agent that he needed to hide somewhere. There was no easy way for me to have gotten to the coffin other than tearing the building away, so it can’t have been something I was meant to have easy access to - like an emergency get-out-of-Goldarch bag.
At the end of the day, they were waiting for me to weigh in and make a decision. I had become owner of the casket by nature of prolonged proximity.
[Not entirely, no. I think we should open it, however.]
Waiting was just burning a hole in my stomach lining as I filled with bile.
“Okay… I’ll do it though. Clara, you might want to move back and prepare for the worst. Or something bad, at least.”
While the techie was a fountain of ideas and competencies, she was rather fragile. Assuming Roxy held her breath, then between us we should be able to weather anything that had been laying dormant for so long.
The super stepped gingerly to the far end of the sunken coffin. I stood at the opposite end just in case it was a cyber-vampire or other undead. Not that I was armed. Clara had run over to the van, jumping in the vehicle for protection - the buzz of her drone coming over to us so that she wouldn’t miss out on the reveal.
Roxy leaned slightly forward, her fingers flexing as her toes gripped at the loose gravel. Burning eyes went up to me as she tried to calm her own nerves. “Say when ready.”
I allowed myself a long sigh, and nodded.
[Open it up.]
Bent her knees, hands clasped around the edges of the lid. Took a brief second to tense up and then she lifted it, the pop of a seal long dried bringing with it a wave of dust as she shunted the wooden lid off to the side.
No immediate death or assault.
As the faint cloud of light debris filtered away, I stepped closer and looked inside.
Body temperature plummeted, and air caught in my lungs. Roxy stared with confusion, tongue caught in her mouth. I wavered as if I were about to tip and fall into the open grave.
Fitting, considering what lay within, was an arm.
My arm.
What was left of it, anyway. Fragments of bone split into several pieces, some of it even missing, all sitting in a darkened patch on the base of the coffin. Arranged in a row as if the arm had been reassembled.
“Is that your… why would they…?” Roxy’s voice sounded distant. An echo that I could barely focus on.
Couldn’t even move. I was frozen, just staring at it… recalling the dreams I’d have of being two-handed and the bastard thing was only just outside of my grasp. I didn’t know if that was irony, or just plain fucked up.
I was unsure how to process this.
Felt a hand come through and hold mine, the soft grip of the techie’s other hand placed on my upper arm.
“You’re dissociating, Gunquake. Focus on your breathing and look at me.”
Despite the draw of my skeletal right arm, I managed to peel my eyes away to look at the her. The bright green light of her cybernetics was diminished by the clear worry on her face. Still, it had an effect and the breath I had been holding rattled through my re-breather.
[Was this something on the approved list?]
She grinned, giving my hand a squeeze before she relinquished her hold and stepped away. “It was the quickest way to ground you with something familiar. Don’t get any ideas, Gunquake.”
“What list?” Roxy asked, a frown across her face.
“I’ll take our future husband over to sit down. It would be best if we cover that so that I can have a proper look later, without troubling Gunquake any longer.”
“There’s… too much in that sentence for me to respond to right now.” She shook her head, gaze returning to the contents of the casket. “It looks like the hand is holding something.”
The pair of us paused after a few steps away, to look back at the super. Clara pushed me to continue, acting as if she could body-block me from approaching again. “Well, pluck it out then, sister.”
“Fucking hate the undead,” Roxy griped, but stepped around. Continued grumbling something I didn’t catch as we were too far away.
Sat down on the deck chair just as the doctor ordered. She placed her palm on my forehead.
[Monitor doesn’t read my temperature?]
Her eyes softened. “Trust me, Gunquake. Technology isn’t everything.”
[Who are you and what have you done with Clara?]
“See, that’s the response I was after.” Her hand removed from me and she wiped it off on her dungarees. “Monitor can give hints that you might be suffering from trauma, but a direct diagnosis can be clearer.”
[And the verdict?]
“Immediate response has calmed, although you’ll likely need to fully decompress from the event. At present, you are probably more worked up about the thought that there might not have been a list at all.”
I looked at the super who was now crouched at the edge of the coffin, face wrinkled up at the prospect of having to put her hand inside and move my once hand to see what secrets it had been buried with.
[There was space enough for the both of us in the coffin if Roxy truly didn’t know.]
Clara sat down beside me on the deckchair to watch proceedings. “You must remember you are in a dangerous game between myself and Rockslide. Is there a list? She will deny it as much as I will affirm it. What kind of risks are you willing to take, Gunquake?”
[Normally I’d play along and have a good answer for that. My heart isn’t in it at present.]
She placed her hand on my gun-arm. “Nice to be reminded we are human after all sometimes, isn’t it?”
Although she had a point, any emotional energy I had was spent. After the tactical gear we found yesterday, I had taken a lot of damage straight to the brain. I’d gone from being physically beaten to death every other day, to having a psychic gut-punch that left me feeling almost as bad.
Roxy twitched and squirmed, before her arm darted out of the coffin holding something.
“Ugh.” She shuddered and immediately set off up to us in the garden. “I know that’s part of you, Dubs… but that just makes it even more creepy. No offense.”
[I am beyond the capacity for taking offense.]
“Intrusive thoughts have me wanting to test that, but instead…” she dangled the item retrieve from my death grip. “What do you think? Looks like a key, right?”
It did. Something rather plain and generic - although I wasn’t sure what I had expected. Certainly… none of this, really.
“Here, sister. Sit with Gunquake and keep him settled. I will go investigate the coffin.”
The narrowed eyes from the super were probably over the fact that the techie could have completed the key retrieval instead. The wry smile on Clara’s face as she left determined that she knew that fully well.
Roxy sat down on my left side, her hand resting on my arm. She deflated and leaned her head onto my shoulder. “Just can’t catch a break, can we?”
I watched as Clara tapped her temple and her eyes turned from green to a brighter neutral light. She then wrinkled up her face before gently stepping down into the coffin, crouching half obscured from us now as she got a closer look.
[Honestly, I am at a loss for words.]
There was no vision or flashback to the time when I had lost it. No accompanying panic or swirling doubts over my past. Just a sinking feeling, something sickening. An insult.
“That’ll be a first.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “Is there anything I can do?”
[Not right now, but a massage a little later would hit the spot.]
She sat back up and smiled at me. “You want to continue as if nothing happened?”
[It’s been there for over five years. It can wait one more day to be addressed.]
Part of accepting the strength of companionship and a brighter life was knowing when to tell the reaching claws of darkness to fuck off. If I allowed my past to muddy my every waking day whenever it felt like it, I would become tethered to that grim shadow and all this that I had fought for would slowly sink down with me under the surface.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Clara hopped out of the casket and switched her eyes back to green before stepping back over to us. Her usual neutral face, although she seemed content enough with her investigation. “My forensic skills are rather rudimentary, Gunquake, but do you have any questions?”
Just the one, really.
[Do you think it was necessary to replace my arm?]
She nodded. “Unequivocally. There are three major breaks along the arm. The one at the highest point indicates it was separated from the shoulder joint with great force. It was likely exploded off of you.”
I grunted and nodded in return. Not exactly a comforting thought, but I was… satisfied enough that Boss didn’t give me a new arm just for the fun of it. Lower face was still a question mark, and the coffin hadn’t held my lower jaw. Thinking about that wasn’t helping my rest-day mood, however.
[It’s against the nature of a rest day, but I feel like I need violence to blow off some steam.]
“I’ll spar with you, Gunquake?” Clara smiled and put her hands in her dungarees pockets.
Roxy groaned. “If that’s happening, then I’m going to need more alcohol. Don’t come crying to me when Dubs has you bent over backwards and… like as in broken spine.” She sighed and stood up. “Just don’t kill her, Dubs. I would miss her sometimes.”
I watched the super leave, only partly because she looked embarrassed. Eyes back to the expectant techie, I raised an eyebrow.
[Does the League teach you some self defense or similar?]
“Not really, no. I sparred with Rockslide once, but she broke my wrist and never recovered from the guilt.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll be gentle with me.”
Although Clara was built like she was made out of paper, it might do her some good to have a few basic skills. While she wouldn’t be able to hold her own against a super, some firearm and melee knowledge would give her a chance against normal opponents until Roxy or I could come and kick the shit out of whomever dared.
[Fine. Do you have a knife handy?]
The techie dug around in her pockets before bringing out a foldable knife. She flicked it out, the sharp blade catching the sunlight. “How is this?”
[Acceptable.]
I stood up, and we moved over to the gravel area just away from the garden. Tried to keep my eyes away from the shallow pit over to the side. I didn’t want to lose control and overdo it with her.
“I’ll try not to hurt you too bad, Gunquake.” She smiled, readying up her knife a few feet from me. “Although, promise you won’t shoot me?”
[You will not cut me.]
“It’s an inevitability.”
[I will not shoot you, but I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.]
A wry grin crossed her face. “Careful, Gunquake. No flirting, remember?”
I raised my eyebrow as the super emerged from the house again with a fresh drink and a dull look in her eyes. That said, she came and sat on the deckchair to be audience to what we were about to do - even if she didn’t entirely approve.
[Whenever you’re ready, Clara.]
She didn’t waste a second, her trainers scraping through the loose gravel as she lunged toward me, knife flashing through the air. She stopped the attack an inch from my bare torso, a furrowed brow looking up at me.
“You’re not going to defend?”
[There is no need. Like I said, you will not cut me.]
She drew back and scowled at me. “Well, forgive me for not having a sordid past of repeatedly maiming people, Gunquake. Although, perhaps I am lucky that you’ll… be my first.”
“Boo!” Roxy jeered from the side. “Just fucking stab him.”
[I will start defending when you are an actual threat.]
Clara wrinkled up her face, clearly put off by us prompting her into actually harming me. I still had the scar that lined most of my torso where she had cut me open to save my life. Using a blade solely for harm seemed to have some wall built in front of it. I needed to knock that down.
She adjusted her footing and brought the blade back up, but there was still hesitation in her expression.
Frustrating her wouldn’t prompt her into action effectively like it would the super. If she was going to approach this earnestly, I’d have to sweeten the deal.
[Here’s how this will go. You cut me once and I’ll start defending myself. You cut me twice and you’ll get me alone in the workshop for an hour, no questions asked.]
Clara’s eyebrows raised, and she turned to look at the super.
Roxy tilted her head from side to side while she crunched through some of the ice from her drink. “Yeah, fine. Dubs, if you avoid getting cut twice, then you’ll get your massage in the bath, with extra bubbles.”
I shuddered and nodded my head in acceptance. All of us had the motivation to win - Roxy’s clearly being something post-bath if I could read the unsubtle winking correctly.
“Very well, Gunquake. It seems I had forgotten you also like to play dangerous games.” The techie rolled out her shoulders and readied herself again. “I will be a gracious winner, don’t you worry - just as you will be a sore loser.”
Clara might not have the amount of natural aptitude for violence like me, or even Roxy, but she was wily and smart. She darted forward and swiped, scoring a shallow cut across my midsection. Rather than reset or step back to appreciate her willingness to cause me injury, she immediately went for a quick jab to follow up.
Just as I had anticipated.
Left hand caught her wrist and my gun-arm lashed out, skirting an inch past her head. Her eyes widened, and I pushed her back.
[That would have shattered half your face.]
“What do I get if you accidentally break a bone?” She flexed her fingers before grasping the knife tighter.
[A heartfelt apology.]
“If you kill her,” Roxy interjected, “we can bury her with your arm.” Her face immediately contorted into a grimace. “Shit, that wasn't very appropriate.”
Any response forming in the part of my brain waiting to send the signal to my vocalizer didn’t get the chance, as the techie took the momentary distraction to lunge for me again. I’d give her that - she was opportunistic. Slow and far too telegraphed, but our power levels were just too different.
I spun in place, bringing up my gun-arm vertically to deflect the blade. As her right arm swung away, she dropped the knife, catching it with her left hand. I rolled to the side as she slashed through the air, her non-dominant hand even worse for attacking. As she switched grips back and stepped toward me, Overcharge bloomed up.
She winced as I blasted the ground by my feet as I stood, a cloud of light dust billowing out across us. With her cybernetic eyes, she didn’t even flinch, despite it being a natural reaction. Impressive - and probably would have caught me off guard if her speed could match mine. Instead, I dodged her attack through the cloud, stepped away from the two wide follow-ups. She was using too much energy, but I was being cautious, just in case she had an ulterior plan.
I stepped forward and kicked out at her, which she avoided by diving to the side. The techie hit the ground and rolled, before righting herself up to her feet. My gun-arm was already there, jabbing toward her - a hop backwards the only thing preventing her being prodded in the stomach.
As I went to approach, she hit me with the start of her concocted plan. Handful of light gravel acquired while she rolled. I didn’t have the benefit of cybernetic eyes or my goggles at present, so it did temporarily blind me. Gun-arm came up by instinct based on her last movements before my vision was obscured. Another of her wide swings. An unsatisfying clang rang out as I struck something - but it wasn’t the knife.
A decoy. Probably a stone. I moved, a step forward and a twist of my body. Arm out, risking an easy slash, but it found something warm. Gun-arm hugged my own torso tight, an extended techie arm stuck between.
We both paused, and I blinked away the dust to see where the chips had fallen.
The wide swing had been a ruse, after using it so many times in the fight. Instead, she had gone for a lunging stab like at the start. In anticipation of this, I had presented my torso as a target, turning at what I hoped was the last second. I had been correct and her jab went through the gap, my gun-arm then closing against her arm to hold it in place.
My left hand was my plan B to grab her arm again if she went for a wide swing. However, as she had twisted forward into a lunge, I had instead grabbed her neck.
She looked up at me with her green eyes, panting from the combat, her face flush from the skirmish. “I yield,” she said. The knife clattered to the ground.
“Did you cut him?” Roxy hopped off of the deckchair to come down over and see.
I relinquished my grip on the techie and she turned away from me, hands on her knees so that she could get her breath back. Gun-arm went up so that I could let the super be the judge. It was possible Clara could have cut me slightly, or even twisted the knife while her arm was pinned to jab me.
Roxy’s fingers ran down my side slowly as she sucked at her teeth. “Sorry, hun. No luck here.”
“It’s fine.” The techie waved a hand at us, still looking the other way. “I don’t mind coming second with Gunquake.”
The super rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad I don’t have to throw the workshop half a mile away.”
[Would that have been with us in it?]
She grinned. “Probably. You got all dusty playing around here. Want me to give you your prize now? I could do with soaking away this buzz so we can have a chill evening. I start off as an affectionate drunk, but turn pretty weepy after.” Her face wrinkled up. “Best to stop while we’re all winning, huh?”
[Sure. Start running it and I’ll be along shortly. Remember, you said extra bubbles.]
Roxy pulled my head closer to kiss my temple. “Of course. You going to be okay, Clara?”
“Sure thing, sister. I’ll probably…” her eyes stared at the gravel in front of her. “Just go into the workshop and do workshop things.”
With a shake of her head, the super departed, and I watched her leave. As good a distraction as any from the day I was currently having. Turned my head to the techie, who seemed to have gotten her breath back, but was still hunched over.
[You did really well, Clara. Almost had me.]
“Almost had you,” she repeated.
[Often in combat, it’s those small windows of luck or times your smarts can take advantage of the situation that can give you the upper hand.]
Of course, overwhelming brute force often worked just as well. If this was a real fight, she would have been a bloodied smear across the dried ground with the first second. Did I have the heart to do that? A curious question.
She sighed and righted herself, brushing down some of the dust as she turned to me. “There is an odd exhilaration to combat, Gunquake. It’s very… visceral and personal. Like a dark mirror of romance.”
[You’ve been two fists deep in my guts, Clara. Hard to imagine much more visceral and personal than that.]
The techie smiled, her usual calm expression returning to her face. “You of all people know how different it is, Gunquake. Still, I thank you for the… experience. Perhaps we may spar again in the future, albeit without the stakes?”
[Of course. If you are eager to learn, then I have so much to teach you.]
She pulled a face. “Alright, go placate Rockslide. I need to go work while certain things are fresh in my memory.”
[As you wish, Clara. Message me if the computers arrive?]
Her eager nodding was answer enough as she set off to the workshop. I took myself toward the house, eyes only briefly glancing at the open grave to my right. Was it a good decision to ignore it? It was still an uncomfortable weight in my stomach, but other than more breadcrumbs leading to the unknown, there wasn’t really anything I could do with this information. Other than planning a few extra punches to the side of Boss’s head when I found him.
Roxy was already in the bath when I got up there, relaxed against one end. She had made good on her promise of extra bubbles, and I got in to join her. Any lingering stress over the day melted away as soon as I sunk in opposite her. Head slightly tilted back, she had her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips.
For a moment, I felt like a fraud.
Still unsure as to how this woman had come to love me in such short order, I was also surprised that I had returned the feelings. And that they were genuine. Certainly, her strength was part of it. A super that I couldn’t beat was motivating and excited a core part of me from my past. We could push each other to be greater. More than we were before.
Part of it was also despite being a superhero, she was as normal as they got. Her own issues and flaws. Either things easily ignored, or obstacles that I could help her overcome. Perhaps it was her willingness to hold faith in me that drew me to her.
Her eyes opened slightly. “Having fun staring at my tits, Dubs?”
[I was actually thinking how beautiful you look when you quit yapping for five minutes.]
Her smile widened, and she leaned forward. “I choose to believe that very obvious lie.”
My hand came up to the side of her face.
[You have these soft freckles that faintly appear when you spend a lot of time in the sun. They melt me quicker than any lava powers you have. Second best sight of the day.]
Her own hands emerged from the bubbles to hold the sides of my face so that she could bring it closer, her forehead pressed gently against mine. “Alright, you smooth talker. What was the best sight of the day?”
[I’m rather partial to seeing you naked.]
“Asshole.” She shook her head, but the flames in her eyes persisted. “Turn around so I can turn those muscles into mush. I’m surprised that you became a hitman with such a silver tongue, and not like a… uh… what’s the word for it?”
I propped myself up and turned so that my back faced her, being careful not to shatter any of the white tiling on the wall with my gun-arm.
[A poet?]
“Like that.” She gave me a series of kisses along my shoulders. “But more… I don’t know. More evocative?”
[Playwright?]
“Forget it.” She sighed and scooted back a little so that her hands could start working magic on me. “Give me those brain words about today’s trauma instead.”
[Hmm.]
While I had intended to be a bit more tight-lipped over how my skeletal arm made me feel, something about the way she erased the tension out of my back with her strong hands cracked me open like a walnut.
[I’m unsure if this element of my past was meant to be found at this stage. It is unlikely the shack would have been removed under any other circumstance. Considering the length of time it had been there… it wouldn’t have been foresight, but perhaps an eventuality.]
“You think Boss might have told you to look under there if a certain situation came up?”
[Possibly. I’m not sure why my arm needed to be saved… unless…]
Her hands paused. “Unless it was… being hidden from someone else finding it? Like how your face might have been taken to mask your identity?”
I considered this for a few moments before shrugging my very relaxed shoulders. Her fingers continued once more, pressing down beside my spine. Would a shattered and split arm really give a clue to my identity or survival to a third party? Or was there a more insidious reason for keeping the severed limb so close to where I lived?
Any further thoughts popped like the bubbles in this bath, as the sound of the front door closing drew our attention.
Soft footsteps ran up the stairs - Clara at speed.
Before either of us could make a comment on what she might be up to, the bathroom door flung open at the request of the techies foot.
“Clara! What the fuck!” Roxy pulled herself up against me to hide her modesty. It wasn’t unpleasant.
A grimace was the first given response. “I thought you bathed in your swimwear. You’re both naked?”
“I swear to the gods, what do you want?”
Clara now switched to a look of giddy anticipation, probably an expression held as she ran her way up to us. “It’s the League. They have approved Gunquake’s application, as well as certified me as his sidekick!”
[That’s fantastic, Clara - although could have waited till we were out of here.]
“Apologies to you both.” She bobbed up and down, unable to contain her excitement. “But they want you to see your designated manager tomorrow, and your first trial is going to be a live exercise against a villain!”
The fresh promise of violence.
Despite not being able to show it, I grinned from ear to ear.