Yesterday's Heroes (Consortium of Chaos Book 1) (57 page)

Stacy smiled broadly.  “I totally
saved the day!”

Poacher leaned around her to look
at Harlot.  “No, seriously.  How’d we do?”

She shrugged.  “Haven’t heard back
from everyone, but it looks like most of us made it.  It’s going to be bad
though.”  Her voice cracked.  “We’ve lost some friends tonight, Syd.  Brett for
sure…Gia…Maude…maybe Vinny…Probably others…”  She swallowed, trying to keep
herself from losing it.  “…
Definitely
others…”

Poacher spit a mouthful of blood
out onto the street.  “
Shit
.”  He looked down at the street for a long
moment, and then glanced over at Wyatt.  “How come that bastard gets a gurney
and I don’t?”  He raised his raspy voice.  “Hey!  Hey, fucker!  It’s YOUR fault
we’re in this mess in the first place, Mr. Big-Time-Hero-man! 
YOU
made
us come here and stop your little friends!  Saving the city was just
sooooo
goddamn important to you. 
SO GET OUTTA THAT BED!
  I’m more hurt that
YOU
are! 
I
should get the bed!”

Wyatt raised a shaky hand to flip
him off.  Poacher’s swollen, twin black eyes narrowed, and he reached behind
himself to pull out the oversized weapon again…then simply tumbled over
unconsciousness in the middle of the street.

Harlot sat down on the curb,
waiting for more team members to meet back up with them here.  The fighting was
mostly done now, and people were trickling back here.  All of them looked
pretty beat to hell though, and…

A manhole cover in the middle of
the street shot high into the air and a tower of water flew out of it.  Liquid
Asset loomed above them and crashed one of her huge watery hands down, splashing
several people away.  She lunged for the rest of the survivors, as all manner
of villains instantly attacked her.  Their efforts did no good though, and
merely passed through her huge liquid body.  She smacked several more away; the
back of her hand forming a tidal wave.  She raised both of her fists above her
head and prepared to hammer them down on the group. 

Harlot took a deep breath, and wrapped
an arm around Wyatt, preparing to have to swim for it...

The monstrous watery heroine suddenly
stopped short, her face becoming concerned for some reason.  She opened her
mouth to say something, but froze in place before she could get the words out. 
Harlot’s eyes widened in disbelief as Pakkanen Hiemal AKA “Congelatio,” stepped
from behind the frozen hero, casually wiping his icy hands.  The prodigal had
returned after all. 

He glanced around and then focused
on her.  “Oh, hey, Harl!  My mom and dad say hey.”  He ran a hand through his
short ice blue hair.  “Caught a ride here with the Sandersons.  Cool folks.” 
His eyes narrowed.  “By the way, what’s this I hear about us being
heroes
now?  I sure as hell didn’t vote for that.  It’ll be a cold day in hell and a
warm day at home before I EVER turn to heroics.”

Harlot laughed in relief and looked
around at the devastation.

Holy shit.  They’d actually won.

An
old woman found an empty jar which had once been full of wine and which still
retained the fragrant smell of its former contents.  She placed it several
times to her nose, and drawing it backwards and forwards said, "Oh!  How
nice must the Wine itself have been, when it leaves behind so sweet a
perfume!"  The moral of the story?  The memory of a good deed lives.

Fabricator stood on the top of the
mountain looking out over the city…which was odd, as there were no mountains
near the city, and certainly none that had a grove of snow covered redwoods. 
He turned to look at ace reporter Peggy Pendelton.  “No, you belong with
Dauntless.  He loves you so.”

Peggy shook her head.  “Yes.  I do
belong with him.”  Which COMPLETELY went against the fact that she had JUST
shook her head NO!  “But that’s no reason why you have to leave like this Ywatt.” 

Ywaat?  What the hell? 
That
wasn’t even a name!

Fabricator/Ywatt shook his
gray-toned bald head.  “I must return to Venus.  The Venusians need me.”  He
mispronounced the word, so that it sounded like venetian blinds.  “But I want
you to be happy, Peggy.  I realize that no one could ever love a monster like
me when there’s a paragon of manhood…a glowing bastion of freedom and hope…a
glorious cauldron of heroic ideals, like Dauntless around.”

Cauldron?

Peggy nodded.  “Yes.”

Fabricator looked out over the
computer generated cityscape, again.  “He is the hero in your life.  I am
merely his loyal sidekick.”  He turned back.  “But, know that on Venus there
lives a sidekick that loves you.  And should the J’muzxy fleet return to
endanger Earth, I
too
shall return.”

Dauntless strolled up in an open,
strangely puffy shirt and waved a hand at Fabricator.  “Ywatt, my good friend! 
Where are you going?”

Fabricator looked out over the
digital scene, again.  “Home.”

Fabricator nodded.  “Okay.  Goodbye.”

Harlot’s eyes narrowed at the
screen as it went to commercial.

God, the dialogue in original
Freedom
Squad
movie was just terrible.  In retrospect, it was actually WORSE than
the sequel.

She glanced around the room.

Harlot was
not
a fan of
hospitals.  She’d never liked them, but in the past few days, she had been to
more hospital rooms than she could count.  Their victory had been a costly one,
and there simply weren’t enough beds in the Consortium Volcano Crater Lair for
everyone.  As such, several members had to receive treatment at civilian
hospitals.  Wyatt was only too happy to volunteer, saying that although he
trusted the Mortician immensely,
no
.  Harlot thought he just didn’t
trust anyone named Mortician to look after him.  As such, she was sitting in a
chair in his room, waiting for him to wake up from a nap.  They still kept him
drugged a lot of the time, but he was improving rapidly.  He was out of ICU
within a day or two, and was now set for release.  A truly remarkable man.

The TV had been showing clips of their
fight with the heroes as part of the station’s all day long salute to them
continued.  Sadly, there wasn’t really a whole lot of footage of them doing
anything but getting arrested and terrorizing people, so the station was
improvising.  They were simply airing Freedom Squad stuff instead, and were
apparently hoping that no one noticed.  The program was switching back and
forth between the various movies, TV shows, and live reports on Wyatt and the
Consortium.  A lot of members were downtown still trying to help clean up the
mess, and she was REALLY hoping they knew better than to do any interviews. 
She figured it was only a matter of time before a reporter grew brave enough to
ask them though, and then they were all doomed.  She said a silent prayer.

Please don’t interview Cynic or
Meg…please don’t interview Cynic or Meg…

Julian’s face filled the screen,
and he started yelling at the reporter about aquariums, or as he seemed to be calling
them, “
Personal fish prisons for consumers.
”  The reporter was nodding,
as if agreeing with his insanity, while Jules launched into an explanation of
how he was able to rise above the
many
injustices done to his aquatic
brothers, and
single-handedly
save the city from destruction.

Wyatt’s eyes fluttered open and he
groaned.  “
WHAT!?!
  He wasn’t even THERE!!!  He’s was probably faxing
off death threats to the ‘Gordon’s Fisherman’ again.”  He threw a pillow at the
screen as the picture changed to show mug shots of various Consortium members.
“God, I wish they’d give that a rest already.  I’m so sick of hearing about how
awesome we were.”

She put down her apple juice which
she’d stolen from his lunch tray.  “Oh, hush.  I LIKE hearing how awesome I
am.”

He kicked the covers off of his
legs.  “Yeah, yeah.  They love you right now, but they’ll forget all about this
soon.  Mark my words.  They…”  He trailed off.  “…Why is that guy who’s
supposed to be me, glowing?”

“It’s that whole subplot where he
has the skin thing where he…”  She waved a hand.  “…Oh forget it, it’s stupid!”

He picked up a folder sitting on
his end table.  “By the way, I read your screenplay.”

“And?”

“Actually…it’s not too bad.”  He
flipped through it.  “Needs a few tweaks, but…”

 “TWEAKS!?!”  Her voice became
indignant and she grabbed the pages from his hand.  “What do
you
know
about writing screenplays, huh!?!  Is that a super-power that your biographies
all missed!?!  My text is perfect the way it is.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Now I
know why Jamie stopped writing and became a super-villain; people like YOU
trying to destroy his work!”

He laughed.  “Well, there’s too
much action, the love scenes are too graphic, and the ending is weird.”

She glanced down at the folder, her
smile widening.  “I don’t think the love scenes are too graphic.  The problem
is you’re just not seeing them in
context
.  Want me to show you?”

 “Absolutely.”  He winked at her.  “We’ll
run through those scenes a few times, I’ll do some
re-writes
, and then I
think it will be
magic
.”  He reached for a pad of paper.  “And as per
your
insistence
, I’ve been working on my new villainous catchphrase.”

“Oh!  Okay, what are you thinking?”

He held up the notepad to his face
like a great orator about to deliver the speech of his life, and then cleared
his throat.  “
FREEDOM POWERS…”
  He paused because he started laughing
too hard.
“…ACTIVATE!”

 She giggled.  “You’re just never
going to let that one go, are you?”

“Probably not, no.”

 “Oh hey!  Got something to show
you.”  She reached down to a bag at her feet, and pulled out its contents. 
“Check it out!  The Cockrum diamond!  I told you I’d steal it eventually.”

He blinked down at the gem as it
sparkled on his dining tray.  “Um…Angel?”  He looked up at her.  “Should you
really be…you know…stealing things, if you’re a hero, now?”

“Well, if I’m GOING to be a hero,
I’d better get all my planned thefts out of the way, right?  Otherwise, I’d
NEVER be able to go on the straight and narrow.”

“Umm…so what are you going to do
with it?”

 “Beats me.”  She started tossing
the stone from hand to hand.  “Figure I’ll play around with it for a few days,
and then I’ll send it back to them with a donation or something.  They probably
won’t even realize it’s gone.”

“Yes, I’m sure they’re glad to be
rid of it.”  He stared at the TV.  “…Why am I suddenly on fire?”

She looked over at the TV.   “You
do that whenever you time-travel.”

“Why am I time-traveling?  I
thought I was going back to Venus?”

“You need to go back in time to
stop the robots from killing Peggy’s dog and…”  She stopped.  “…you know?  It
doesn’t matter.”

“But what does that have to do with
Venus?”  He squinted at the TV in confusion.  “What robots?  Now I’m going to
go save her dog?”  His eyes narrowed.  “I go back in time to save her puppy,
and she
still
chooses Dauntless over me?”

“’Fraid so, honey.  The woman’s a
bitch and a cheap whore.  You died for her TWICE during the course of the film,
and are now using your soul as an energy source to travel back in time and save
Fuffles the dog.  But she’s just going to leave you high and dry, like it’s
your DUTY to throw your life away for her or some or something.”  She turned to
look at him, her face becoming serious. “Just a little insight into the female
mind for you?  In a contest between the tortured and dark but surprisingly kind
alien, who would do ANYTHING for you, and the BLONDE guy who’s always at his
job and never ONCE offers to damn himself to an eternity in Venusian hell so
that your dog can live?  Women are going to go with the alien…even if it’s
soooooo lame that he’s not you and doesn’t have your cool hair.”

 “Good to know.”  He nodded.  “I’ll
make sure not to let you around any bald gray-skinned Venusians ,now.”  His
brow compressed in thought.  “See?  If I were in ANY way smooth, I’d remember
what that TV me said to that blonde girl after she got those disgusting scars? 
And it would be so romantic.  I think it was something about how he loved being
inside her?  And that she was a good person and he loved her beyond anything. 
Something like that.  I don’t remember, because I hate that show.  Because it’s
stupid.”

She kissed his forehead.  “Close
enough.”

Poacher swore from the bed next to
him.  “Would you two shut the fuck up!  God, I’m so SICK of listening to you!” 
He turned up the volume on the TV.  “I’m TRYING to hear about what an awesome
hero I am, and I don’t need to hear you two talking each other off, okay?”

Wyatt turned to glare at him.  “I
should have asked for a
private
room.”

Poacher rolled his eyes.  “You
didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter since you fainted like a
total pussy.  Personally, I think they just stuck you in MY room hoping that
being around me would make a MAN out of you.”  He pushed a collection of
balloons out of the way, which he had OBVIOUSLY stolen for himself from the
other rooms in the hospital, unless he was expecting a baby boy or was retiring
today, and absently tossed a large box at Wyatt’s bed.   “By the way, Pro
dropped that off for you while you were getting a sponge bath.  Said he was
holding it for you.”

Wait…sponge bath?  She glared at
Wyatt and he tried to look innocent.

“I have no idea what he’s talking
about.”

She swatted his arm.  “You tell
that bitch nurse that no one gives you a sponge bath but ME from now on.”

“I’ll tell that to Jake, my nurse,
if it makes you happy.  I’m sure he’d be only too happy to pass off the duty
onto someone else.”  He paused.  “I think we both would, actually.”

He frowned as he saw that the box
had already been helpfully been opened by Poacher, no doubt in search of cash
or drugs, and pulled out its contents.  Letters.  LOTS of them.  He opened the
first one in the stack and read it for a long moment.  Smiled.  Then handed it
to her.  She looked down at the handwritten text: 

Damn.  Wish I were getting a
sponge bath from Harlot.  Lucky bastard.  The living get all the chicks, man.  Anyway,
thought I’d drop off some more letters for you.  Lord knows you’d be shit outta
luck without ME there to keep you from doing stupid, stupid things.   Enjoy
your moment, Rabbit.  You’ve earned a nice rest and the tortoises of the world
can wait for the time being.  Oh, by the way…Peter’s always a nice name.  Just
saying.  See you soon, P.

She folded the letter up and placed
it at the bottom of the pile.  “That’s sweet.”

He nodded, lowering his voice to a
whisper. “You know…I could drop a $50 to the nurse, and she could drug Syd out
of his mind, or take him away somewhere for an hour or two…and you could start
on my sponge bath.”  He smiled.

Her eyes drifted over to the
curtain between Wyatt’s bed and Poacher’s, and she tried to casually pull it closed. 
“Hit the call nurse button.”

“I’m going to
miss
being a
bad guy so much.”  He grinned.  “We have ALL the fun.  And we…”  He paused as
he was distracted by something else on the TV.  “Wait…actually, that’s a
beautiful scene.  Yes.  Look at that!  Fabricator has found love and…  Nope. 
Forget it.  They screwed it up that fast.  STUPID.”

She finished whispering to the
nurse, and walked back to his bed.  “Would you
forget
that stupid movie? 
That’s not you, and you’re not him.  You’re BETTER than him, and always will
be.”  She hopped up onto his bed.  “Besides, you have more important matters to
attend to.”

He nodded and started to slowly
unzip her costume as the sound of Poacher’s drug induced snores filled the
room.  “You sure you won’t get bored with me, and start stalking someone else?”

She glared at him as his hands
slipped inside her clothes.  “I’m NOT a stalker!  I’m a
collector.
”

“Stalk me, collect me, plot world
destruction; I don’t care.  I love you anyway.  You’re amazing.  But I still
don’t think you were ever
really
villainous.”

She leaned down to kiss him and
reached for the sponge.  “Oh, now you’re just daring me to show you how
BAD
I can be.  Is that what you want?  Huh?  Put yourself in that kind of peril?”

“Anything for a fan, Miss. 
Anything
for a fan…”