H.E.R.O. - Metamorphosis Page 16

I watched Rael chase Stephanie down the corridor. He moved so fast it almost appeared like he just appeared over by her. Speed would be a cool power, but I was happy with the idea of being super strong and armored. I wondered how I compared against the big dogs in town, such as Gatecrasher, Zonk, or Big Man.

  I thought about costume designs for a while, and pulled out my collection of comic books to peruse them for more ideas. I held them very carefully, fearful that I would tear them apart.

  Stephanie stopped out to wish me good night. I smiled and just sat for a moment feeling good after she kissed my cheek and headed off. Her fragrance lingered for a moment, like a handful of flowers.

  Then, I noticed the plastic cup with my water was bent in far more than normal as I gripped it. I need to watch my grip on everything for a while, I think. I'm not really tired, and I'm sure the meteor shower is still affecting people. People who need help. I can be a hero. I can be a hero now. I've got the power to save people now. Forget wearing an official costume, there are problems happening all over right now. I looked at Stephanie's purse … the cell phone was in there.

  I muttered, “Yeah, baby!” Then, I accidentally crushed the cup. I quickly moved my comics out of the way of the water, and cleaned up the spill.

  Time to act.

  No idea how long I'll be out, so I'll cheat a bit tonight. I stepped over to the cabinet and drank a bottle of 5-hour ENERGY. Maybe someday I can get an advertising gig for something like this, that’d be cool. I rushed to my room, changed out of the hospital gear and put on a clean white Under Armor form fitting t-shirt with a dark gray pattern on the shoulders down to the elbows. A pair of black jeans and boots completed the getup. The jeans barely fit in the thighs. Holy cow, I'm bigger, and these were loose before. Ripped hardcore now – I like this. The shirt almost looks like a costume top. The jeans were slightly short now as well, but wearing boots forgave that look. The boots felt tight as can be as well, but didn’t hurt, so I ignored the feeling. Worst case I'll look super and nerdy.

  I grabbed a belt cell phone case and the phone from Captain McCain out of Stephanie's purse. He seemed cool enough to us, even if he did stay very businesslike. I carefully pushed the option for 'on duty' on the phone. Man, I need to hold every darn thing like they are eggshells now. Almost instantly, three incidents appeared. The screen appeared to sort them from highest priority to lowest, and within each level by distance from the phone.

  The first of the three showed a Critical severity to it. The other two were Severe. I pushed on the Critical task first.

  The text listed:

  Super fight, likely new mutants or bricks. Civilians injured. Building partially collapsed. Need assistance to stop fight and rescue buried people.

  The distance was 4.2 miles away.

  Perfect for me. I clicked the 'accept' button, and headed out of the house. I figured I would drive my mustang, rather than try this jumping thing. Knowing my luck I’d plow into the side of a building and do more damage than the bad guys. It's after midnight, so I probably wouldn’t be seen. Of course, flying into a building during the day doesn't sound any less embarrassing.

  The drive was uneventful; I even sped to arrive at the location faster. The only patrol cars I saw were one set of flashing lights off in the distance, until I arrived at the incident location. Traffic seemed light for late Saturday night, probably due to the meteor news.

  I quickly parked the car, opened the door ... and ripped off the interior door handle. Aw, man. Here’s where it all starts. I threw the handle on the seat, and jogged toward the police at the scene. They were watching the corner of a four-story building. Several stories had collapsed in the corner, with the bar at the bottom taking the brunt of the damage, along with the level above it. Not good, a bar collapsed on a Saturday night after midnight? Speaking of ... crap! I missed my shift tonight. John's going to be pissed at Score! Score! was the bar I bounced for at night.

  The building appeared to have been mostly a four story office building, with a large chunk of the first level devoted to a bar. The corner where the entrance of the bar was located had caved in from the third floor down to the first, along with massive wall damage all along the outer walls of the bar. All those huge windows had given under the stress the super fight had caused the building. Windows were missing in places on each of the levels; apparently the fight had included much of the office area.

  A small crowd had gathered behind the officers, watching for anything exciting. A loud thumping sound could be heard from one of the upper stories, and a bestial roar followed. Several people commented on it. Fight sounds like it is still in progress, and these people are enjoying it. That's messed up. I jogged around the crowd to get to the police.

  A shattering sound came from the third floor, and a file cabinet flew toward the squad car closest to the building. I sprinted out in front of the car, putting my arms up to catch the flying object. It's kind of like catching a kickoff, but bigger....

  The file cabinet arced toward me and the squad cars. I could tell the angle was off just before the file cabinet impacted me. The file cabinet had been rotating slightly as it flew, and slammed into my face. The thin metal of the cabinet folded as it met the unmoving object my face consisted of. About halfway through the compaction process I got a hold of it, and its movement stopped.

  Yeah, I’m sure that looked wonderful to the crowd. Comedy Guy is here!

  I pulled the dented metal off my face and dropped it to the ground. Wait, that didn’t hurt. I touched my face a few times to verify the thought. I grinned. Well, there's yet another reason I didn't play that position in football. Dang, no more football for me.

  I walked over to the nearest officer, pulled out the cell phone and handed it to her. “Would you please mark me as 'on scene' and keep the phone safe until I'm done?”

  She looked up at me and said, “Umm, okay.”

  “Thanks. Is everyone up there considered a criminal?”

  “Well, we need to stop the fighting supers. We can't help the people down here until they stop. They've moved up and down levels several times already. Who're you?”

  I put my hand on my chin, and thought for a moment, “Hmm, call me ... Spartan.” I'm just not about to run around in a loincloth and sandals.

  “Thanks for helping, Spartan. Good luck up there; be careful of civilians.”

  “Will do.”

  I jogged up to the building and jumped toward a broken third story window. Hope this jumping thing is controllable....

  I flew through the open window, but my jump didn't stop at the floor. My path carried me up through the tiles making up the ceiling. I held up my forearm in front of me, and smashed into the hidden ceiling above that. Metal ties from the ceiling tile hangers tore into my shirt as I crashed lengthwise through more of them, and finally fell out of the ceiling and crashed into cubes below.

  I lay there for a few seconds, trying to determine if I'd injured anything, but nothing seemed damaged other than my pride. Yet again, a bonehead move. I hope there aren’t security cameras here. I climbed out of the mess of furniture and equipment covering me and looked around.

  Yup, that could go on a Superhero Blooper reel....

  I heard swearing and jogged toward it. The floor was slanted in areas toward the corner of the building that had caved in. There were several large holes in the floor, approximately human sized. Debris was scattered everywhere, and many cubes in the office were knocked down. Walls had severe damage, and a few doors hung off their hinges.

  Furniture moved, and I spotted a head moving. The head had horns attached. A crashing sound erupted, the head and all furniture in the way moved backward about twenty feet before the horned person raised their arm and swiped down. The guy had long claws on the hand. I hereby dub thee, mutant.

  The combatants swung at each other, and the horned man grabbed his smaller opponent. Suddenly, a man was f
lying toward me. I swung at him, hoping to take down one of these combatants quickly.

  My fist solidly connected with the lower back of the super. I was sure the boom from my fist meeting the body would be heard down by the crowd. The person flew back in the opposite direction. He crashed through several sets of cubes before coming to a stop. I looked at the horned man.

  The horned man just looked back at me and growled. Light’s on, nobody’s home. His eyes had a red glow to them, and horns also came out from his shoulders.

  I said, “Come on, man. Give up now.”

  The horned man growled again, and froth ran down from the corner of his mouth.

  Hoo boy. Yep, this dude's gone. Nobody home, methinks. Guy has fangs too, I'd like to avoid another poisoning.

  The horned man slowly walked toward me, clasping and unclasping his claws. I waited for him, and he leapt at me from only eight feet away. I stepped into it and tried to shoulder bash the mutant. One claw sliced into my left shoulder, but his face had an untimely meeting with my shoulder.

  The mutant stumbled backward. I grabbed one of the large horns on his head and swung around in a circle, spinning several times at high speed.

  I said, "How are ya feeling this one, huh, Horny?" I yanked the mutant's head to an abrupt stop. The mutant was obviously disoriented as he tried to get his footing.

  I grabbed his left arm with my left hand and stepped behind the mutant, as I’d do to help control a drunk in a bar. He's not going to just stop with the way he's all beat up and frothing.

  I used my right arm to wrap around the mutant's neck and put him in a strong sleeper hold, trying to close off his airway in the neck. Go to sleep, dude, I don’t want to hurt you.

  The mutant clawed at my stomach with the arm trapped between us. I growled, “Knock it off or I hurt you.” I pulled slightly on the guy's arm as I said it, so he’d get the point.

  The mutant didn't listen, and gouged his claws into the heavy muscle in my torso. I growled back at him and yanked the guy's arm up hard. The sound of snapping bone came from the elbow, and then the shoulder in rapid succession. Ooh, that’s going to leave a mark. Sorry about that. The arm went limp. The mutant grabbed at my sleeper hold arm with his right claw, cutting into my forearm. The claws dug in deeply, and that hurt. I grimaced in pain.

  With the left arm non-moving, I released it, reached around and grabbed at the mutant's right arm to prevent him from tearing too much into my sleeper hold arm. He gashed my left arm several times as I attempted to grab the arm, and used my other hand in an attempt to prevent it. Finally I acquired a hold on the mutant’s hand, locking his fingers with mines. The mutant's claws dug into the back of my hand, and I snapped the man's wrist back because he just pissed me off. There was a cracking noise, and the clawing stopped. He howled loudly in pain.

  The mutant struggled for several dozen seconds, his reactions slowing over time. Then a small, yet burly form barreled down the aisle in the room. As he approached, I likened him to a four foot tall steroid taking body builder.

  He slowed down slightly before reaching me and the mutant, and then slugged the mutant in the stomach. The impact shuddered through the mutant into me. The blow had to have exceptional power behind it from that tiny frame. He's a brick, a small brick. Holy cow.

  The small brick punched several more times against the helpless mutant's stomach before I pulled the mutant back several steps from the small brick. The mutant slumped in my arms. The brick screamed incoherently at the mutant the entire time I held the mutant. He's really pissed. Something about trying to have a drink when one of “you freaks” show up and start shit, if I'm understanding his babbling. The brick stomped on the mutant's foot in a continuing fit of rage. Their feet smashed through the thin carpeting into the wood sub layer of the floor, and the mutant's foot made a crunching sound.

  I said, “Hey, he's out cold....”

  “Screw you!”

  “You need to turn yourself in, the police are outside.” I gestured over my shoulder with my free hand.

  “I said, screw you. He started this entire thing, trying to eat people downstairs, and then me. I am not about to go to jail because I defended myself!”

  I was about to say something next when the small super turned and ran the opposite way. I said, "Hey, where the heck are you going?" When he reached the window he leapt ... up. He looked like he jumped at the next building top. I shook my head. I could go after him, but the fight's done, and from the sound of it, this is the instigator.

  I walked to the opposite outer wall, where I’d leaped into the building. I looked down at the drop and debated. If I can jump half a mile, then I ought to be able to land on my feet without killing myself. Only one way to know for sure, I guess. If the mutant was taking a bunch of hits from a brick, even a small one, a fall's not going to do much to him. A light flashed over in the crowd, but I didn't see what caused it. I jumped down, holding the mutant around the neck. Landing was far easier on a jump down, it seemed. The fall felt more like a jump down from a few feet than two stories up. Now to dump him off and see to the trapped people....

  I dragged the mutant over to the police officers. More lights flashed. I glanced up and saw some people with cell phones held in the air. Cell phone cameras, Steph would do that sort of thing. I stood up straighter and spoke to the officers, “It sounds like this mutant attacked the place and started a fight with a four foot tall brick. The brick ran off, but this one's down, so the fight is stopped. I'm going to see if I can get into the bar. Can I get my phone back please?”

  The officer holding it held it in the air, “Here!”

  “Thanks much.” I pushed the button for 'super paddy wagon' and put the phone back on my waist.

  I jogged back to the building and looked for a good spot to pull out debris. I could probably bash in a wall, but wanted to avoid damage to the building's infrastructure any further.

  I pulled some rubble aside, and two of the police officers joined me. I said, “If either of you know the best places to take debris from safely, I'm open to suggestions.”

  The woman officer stated, “Let's call to the people inside, and see if we get any responses. If we do we can focus on that location.”

  The other officer agreed, and they moved near the wall and called at it, then waited a few moments to listen for responses. Shortly they found a position where someone yelled for help. Nice idea, guys.

  I moved there and removed large chunks of brick and concrete blocks. My hands were not bothered by the rough concrete, and weren't cut from anything I handled. The concrete felt extremely lightweight to me, as though it were made of painted styrofoam.

  In short order I cleared an entryway into the establishment. “Officer, mind if I borrow your flashlight? I'll climb in – with how light everything is to me, I don't believe it'll hurt me if something shifts or falls on me.”

  The woman handed me her large flashlight, and I crawled into the hole. I called out for people, and through the dusty haze found several people caught partially under a table when the walls collapsed. Two of them crawled out on their own, but the remaining man I carefully picked up to carry out. I was cautious on the way out with him. I hadn't cleared a wide tunnel out of concern for a collapse, and the tight space was not conducive to carrying a person.

  I made it out with the man only taking a few extra cuts and scrapes on the damaged wall, and gave him to the officers to care for.

  I crawled back into the debris. When I bumped my shoulder against the wall the building groaned. I glanced up as dust fell into my face and blinded me. I wiped off my eyes when a slew of concrete bricks crashed on top of and around me. The blocks banged off me, though none fell hard enough to be harmful. I dropped to one knee by reflex. It felt like being in some kind of toy pen. Stuff falls on you, but was so light that none of it hurt, barring the annoying dust in the eyes. Building material continued to rum
ble as the area shifted and settled until I was buried in concrete, insulation, plastic and wood.

  I knew it ought to be a dangerous situation, but when all of the blocks just bounced off from me as though they were lightweight toys I hadn't felt the need to move.

  Interesting sensation, being buried alive. Even stranger still feeling concrete and brick, and yet not feeling the sharp edges of the corners, or the rough edges. Or the weight!

  I could probably make some wild tossing motions behind me to get rid of the material fast, but who knows how far I'd fling this stuff – or onto whom. Since I was still facing in toward the building, I gently pushed the cement blocks away behind me. In short order I pushed enough blocks clear to get back outside the building. I coughed a few times as I edged back out of the collapse.

  The woman officer asked, “Are you all right?”

  “What? Yeah ... yeah I'm fine. The dust was worse than anything that fell on me.”

  She pointed at my forearms. Blood stained them, mixing in with the dust from the concrete.

  “No, the guy with claws did that to me.” I’d been trying to ignore the stinging pain in my arms. Her reminding me of the cuts didn’t help. I grabbed a concrete block, lifting it like an empty carton of milk, and ran the edge along an undamaged area of my left arm. The concrete crumbled along that edge, but my skin was undamaged, if somewhat dustier. I showed my arm to the officer.

  “Back inside for me, there have to be more people in there.”

  I cleared the entry path yet again, and then headed in one more time. Dust floated heavily in the air. Coughing led me to the next group of people. Two people were stuck under a pool table, a leg had collapsed and caught them tightly underneath. I lifted the table off them and helped them to the exit. It was such a rush lifting a large, heavy pool table with one hand as though it weighed nothing.

  Once inside again, I wandered through the dust until I found two people lying on the ground bleeding. Both had nasty gashes on them, and one had what appeared to be a bite mark on his shoulder. They were both severely injured. I weighed the idea of bandaging them here, but decided that the officials outside would have more appropriate equipment. I picked up the girl first. I dislodged a few pieces of wall rubble on my way through the makeshift hole as I hurried to get her outside. Officers immediately took her from my arms and I ran back inside.

  As I picked up the man I wondered at his weight. He was a good sized guy, at least 6’ tall, though he was a bit out of shape. He still had to weigh well over 200 pounds, and yet it felt like I was carrying a balloon animal.

  I re-entered again after dropping him off, and the room opened up past that, and I found some people hidden in an office, the rest were secluded in the bathrooms. One woman cried and hugged my torso when I opened the door. I gave her a minute to calm down before leading the people to the impromptu exit, gently speaking calming words to her. No injuries were greater than a few cuts and bruises.

  As I guided the group out, I noticed two large holes gaping in the ceiling of the bar. Debris lay about the floor under the holes.

  Once they were safely out, I spent more time looking around inside, in case someone was unconscious and unable to call for help. After minutes of walking around the ruined bar, I couldn't find anyone else remaining inside.

  As I climbed back out through my rough exit, I coughed again. I’d never considered the mess the debris from a building would make. Several more small flashes went off as I stood outside the gaping wound into the building. I dusted off what I could from my clothes, face, arms and hair when I walked toward the officers. At least the claw marks had stopped bleeding, though the gashes looked nasty.

  The officers listened to the stories from numerous people. It appeared that everyone was accounted for, barring the small man that fled. Ambulances had already been on scene and taken away the most severely injured.

  I was talking with the woman officer when a man in a suit walked up to us. “You answered the call for H.E.R.O. assistance?” He looked pointedly at me.

  I replied, “Yes sir, that would be me. Going with the super name of Spartan.” I realized then that I’d forgotten to push the button for 'resolved' at that point, and quickly took out the phone to push it.

  The man interrupted me. “The situation has already been closed, and the ambulance called. Can I get a quick rundown of the sitrep, officer?” He looked at the woman I’d handed the cell phone to before I’d entered the building.

  Officer Coyle quickly ran down what occurred from before I arrived to just then. She made me sound very favorable, even making the file cabinet catch with my face more about protecting the squad car and officers than about the humor of me missing the catch. I appreciated that.

  He looked at me and asked if I had anything to add. “Just the fact that the four foot brick was here before the fight, and claimed that the mutant started the fight before fleeing the scene.”

  He clicked a few times on his phone, and said, “I don't have a Spartan in my system. Are you registered?”

  “Not yet. Name's Lance Casey. Captain McCain spoke with me and my two partners at the hospital tonight. He told us to get the paperwork into him Monday, but to feel free to mark ourselves as 'on duty' and help out tonight, what with all the strangeness from the meteors occurring.”

  “Are they here?”

  “No, they had other issues going on tonight. I figured I'd get out here and help out where I could.”

  “All right. I'm going to forward this case to the Captain, so he can mark it complete once you are in the system. You can't get a reward from the system without that paperwork in.”

  The man continued, “So this is your first ... situation ... as a super? Or at least as one trying to work with the H.E.R.O. program?”

  “Yes.”

  “So how much of the damage up there happened once you joined the fight?”

  Where was he going with this? Was he trying to stick me with a bunch of the damage? “A small amount of ceiling damage on the ... third floor. Some furniture landed on during the fight. It was pretty short for me. The small brick and the mutant had been tearing it up for what sounded like some time.”

  “All right. You can head out now.”

  “Thanks. What was your name again, sir?”

  “Agent Carson. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon, I close a fair number of these cases on the west side of Metrocity.”

  “Good to meet you, Agent Carson.” I held out my hand to the man. Agent Carson hesitated a moment, then shook my hand. I made sure not to close my hand in case the man wasn't a super.

  “By the way. Nice work ... Spartan. I look forward to working with you in the future. You may want to get a real costume, or you'll be going through a lot of shirts and jeans like that.”

  Woohoo! Close enough to a 'job well done' line! I looked down, and sure enough, between my jump into the third story, the clawing, and the concrete falling on me, my shirt and jeans had small tears all over.

  Agent Carson walked off, continuing to tap on his tablet as he walked.

  I looked at an officer. “Any last things you need help with before I go?”

  They looked at each other, back at me and shook their heads.

  “Hey, thanks again for holding my phone so it didn't get damaged, Officer...?” I held out my hand to her.

  The woman officer said, “Officer Coyle. Anne.” She looked at my hand, looked at my face, looked back at my hand and slowly took it. Officer Coyle was a pretty 5'8' woman, extremely fit with long dark brown hair in a long braid down her back. She had dark blue eyes, and looked young for an officer.

  I gently shook her hand. What, don't people shake hands or say thanks anymore? I've seen at least two super heroes on the news shaking the Mayor's hand before. It's not like it's hard to just not squeeze someone's hand when you shake.

  “You're welcome ... Spartan, right? Your skin is softer than I
thought it would be.”

  “Umm, thanks?”

  I shook the hands of several more officers nearby, and noticed more cell phone camera flashes as I did. It was great, being on the same side as the law, helping out people. I felt awesome.

  Chapter 17 – New Fame

  Lance's Perspective