Supervillainess (Part One) (15 page)

Kimber’s heart began to race at the sight of
them, and all traces of his exhaustion melted beneath the fire of
adrenaline in his blood. His skin crawled with awareness of the
weapons pointed at him.

“My name is Doctor Kimber Wellington,” he
said, automatically raising his arms to show he wasn’t armed. “I
believe your boss is looking for me.”

“Follow me,” one of them ordered him.

Kimber lowered his arms and obeyed. Four of
them escorted him through the vacant hallways. He peered into
offices and patient rooms as they passed. He was relieved to see
all the rooms empty. At least some people had already been
evacuated or escaped.

The moment he stepped into the emergency
room area, his hope the situation wasn’t as bad as he imagined
plummeted. The department was jammed with the suffering and staff
members alike. They were huddled on the floor, everyone seated or
lying down. There was hardly room to move from the sheer amount of
people crammed into the ER. It was eerily quiet, aside from the
occasional moan and stifled sobbing. The tension and body heat
combined to render the large area uncomfortably hot and the air
charged.

All eyes turned to him, and Kimber’s breath
caught. He had never wanted to be the center of attention anywhere,
and the way the people regarded him – with a combination of hope,
gratitude, and fear – left him feeling sick to his stomach. Did
they look at him as if he were their savior, because of his antics
after the fire last weekend? Or because, now that he was present,
they would be set free?

Behind the nurse’s station, he saw several
bodies laid out under white sheets.

There was no worse death than to go out
feeling hopeless, powerless and afraid.

Fury originating from a place too deep for
him to identify filled him. The idea people had died because some
psychopath decided to take the most vulnerable people imaginable
hostage filled him with more emotion than he had experienced in
years.

“Where is he?” he demanded of one of the
henchmen.

“Busy. He’ll be with you –”

“No. Now.”

The beefy man glanced at him then back. He
lifted his chin to another of the men, who trotted away, down the
hallway leading to the first floor emergency operating suites and
ICU.

Seething yet calm, Kimber waited to meet the
brother of Keladry.

Jermaine Savage didn’t keep him waiting
long. The moment the tall, athletic man entered the ER, Kimber
almost cursed. He had treated too many people during his twenty
four hour shift to recall anyone’s face with clarity – except for
the first man.

Cleaned up with no sign of a head wound, the
patient who had snagged his coat as he crossed the floor of the ER
the day before still wore his bloodied clothing and a smile.

“Hey, Doc,” he said. “I’m all nice and
healed.”

Kimber was not amused. “I’m here, Jermaine.
Let these people go.”

“It’s not Jermaine. It’s Thunder,” Jermaine
corrected him.

“I don’t give a fuck what you call yourself!
Your issue is with me, so let’s deal with it!”

“That’s no way to talk to the future
supervillain of Sand City.” Jermaine tilted his head and took a
step back, remaining a solid five yards away.

“Villains aren’t real. You’re a criminal
whose father tortured you into believing you had superpowers and a
purpose to justify your own fucked up upbringing,” Kimber retorted,
warmed by anger. “You’ve held the city in fear long enough. It’s
time people saw you for what you are.”

Silence. Even the moaning stopped.

Jermaine’s features turned scarlet, and his
smile faded. “Careful, Doc,” he warned. He closed the distance
between them and paused, toe to toe with Kimber. “I’ve rigged this
place to blow.” He pointed to the walls and the blobby blocks of
gray material Kimber assumed were explosives. “You piss me off, I
kill everyone here.”

Kimber glared at him, unafraid. “You’re a
coward. Hurting innocent people because why? Your daddy didn’t love
you? This makes you feel like you have some sort of control?”

“Enough, Doc.” Jermaine snapped.

“Let’s finish this. Just you and me.”

“There’s nothing I’d like better than to
peel your skin off and listen to you scream,” Jermaine said with a
mirthless smile. His eyes were cold. “I have a feeling fucking up a
few of these people would probably knock that defiance right out of
you.”

“Villain or criminal, if you hurt these
people, you will answer for it. If not to the police, then to
someone else.”

“Daddy pays the cops enough to keep them
away.”

“You’re used to working in the shadows,
Jermaine. This is broad daylight. What do you think will happen if
the footage from the ER cameras is posted online and aired by the
media? Seems like it’d be bad for business. Will your daddy applaud
your efforts or cut you loose?” Kimber had no idea if what he said
was true, but he hoped the business side of being a villain would
be enough to force Jermaine into sparing the lives of the innocent
people trapped in the ER.

“Smart.” Jermaine backed away and turned. “I
can see why my sister likes you.”

You have no idea what that
woman thinks of me,
Kimber answered
silently. After their heated exchanges, he had a feeling Keladry
hated him.

“You’ll leave here and accept what I have
planned for you without resisting?” Jermaine asked, glancing over
his shoulder at Kimber.

“I will,” Kimber replied.

“This might be fun.” Jermaine motioned to
the guards across the room from him. “Very well. I’ll let these
people go.”

The phone in his pocket vibrated, and he
pulled it free. Placing the phone against his ear, he went still,
listening.

Kimber waited, irritated by the villain. The
resemblance between brother and sister was evident in their
features, from the large, dark eyes and chiseled jawbones to the
shapes of their noses.

Jermaine lowered the phone with a scowl.

“Seems I’ve got bigger fish to fry,” he said
and pushed the cell back in his pocket. He made the sign for his
men to rally and exit. “I’ll be in touch, Doc.”

Kimber watched, startled, as the villain and
his henchmen filed out of the ER, exiting through a side door.

“Umbrella!” Jermaine called before stepping
outside. “I can’t risk sunlight!”

Uncertain why Jermaine was leaving without
him, Kimber waited for the Savage twin to turn around and return
for him or order one of his minions to gun him down.

The phone in his pocket dinged, and Kimber
reached for it absently, eyes on the men in black making their way
out of the hospital.

Evacuate. Now,
read the message. The number was identified only
as
unknown.
Kimber’s gaze returned to the retreating villains and then
went to the plastic explosives along the walls.

Kimber looked around at the amount of people
crammed in the room. “We all need to leave. Exit through the main
doors.”

No one moved.

“Now!” he shouted.

The people around him jerked in response and
began moving. Kimber motioned Gary over.

“Good to see you.” Gary forced a smile.

“Thanks. We need to get these people out of
here immediately. Ask staff members to help those who can’t walk
for themselves.”

“Got it.” Gary moved away.

Kimber spun and raced down the hallway to
the consultation rooms. These rooms, and the two offices in this
hall, were packed. He began shouting for everyone to move and to
help those who couldn’t walk for themselves. The ensuing frenzy of
activity swarmed from the corridors into the ER and out into the
crescent shaped driveway reserved for ambulances.

He pulled the fire alarm to alert anyone
else in the building and then bent over to help carry an
unconscious man out of the ER. He hadn’t walked two steps into the
driveway before an explosion ripped through the ER. Heat rolled
over him, and debris pelted his exposed skin. Kimber was flung to
the ground by the force and lay still, momentarily stunned and
breathless. His ears rang, and smoke blinded him. Cuts and bruises
stung from points all over his body. As far as he could tell, they
were the worst of his injuries, aside from bruised ribs from his
impact with the ground. A police officer shouting through a
megaphone somewhere was soon drowned out by cries of fear and
panic.

Coughing from the smoke and dust, Kimber
waited for his senses to stabilize. Scared and angry, he couldn’t
help thinking about the Savage twins and how his life had gone to
shit since he met one of them. People died every time his path
intersected with one of the twin’s – or whenever they decided to
seek him out. They were too selfish, too damaged, to understand
their impact on the world or perhaps, they just didn’t care.

As he lay still, recovering, he couldn’t
help the dread settling into his stomach as he realized he was in
the middle of the twin’s war. Whether or not he belonged in it, he
had become as dangerous as the twins. Wherever he went, he would
draw them and their danger to him and those around him.

I have to fix this.
Kimber tried to push himself up. He knew where to
find Keladry. He could start there. As he moved, he became aware of
the thick, warm rivulet of blood traveling down the back of his
neck and soaking his clothing.

A wave of darkness swept over him, and he
tumbled into unconsciousness.

Kimber recognized the scent of disinfectant
before his eyes opened to confirm he was in a hospital. He was achy
with muscular pain, and his chest hurt to breathe deeply. The back
of his head was numb. He stretched back to feel the numb spot. His
fingertips met the roughness of a bandage stretched across his
skull.

Assessing he’d been hit by debris, his eyes
snapped open, and he sat up, assessing the bag connected to the IV
in his hand. He read the contents – nothing more than a standard
saline solution – before starting to relax. His mind wasn’t woolly
or his senses dulled; they hadn’t given him painkillers, just local
anesthesia.

The hospital room didn’t resemble any place
he had seen in Sand General. The walls were a calming shade of
blue, the bed too comfortable, and the big screen television across
the room nowhere near as small as those at his normal workplace.
The floors were carpet, too. There were other signs he’d been taken
to an upscale clinic instead of being treated at Sand General.

His clothing was folded on a dresser. He
sat, tested his body, then swung his legs off the bed.

Kimber removed the catheter in his hand and
stood. Aside from remaining dizziness, and the tightness of his
chest, he felt rested and well. A quick self-examination revealed
nicks and bruises covering his body. He crossed to his clothing and
changed out of the hospital gown into his jeans. Tugging on a
t-shirt, he paused when the scent of freshly laundered clothing
reached his nose.

It wasn’t his brand of detergent or fabric
softener. He pulled the shirt the rest of the way down and looked
around briefly for more belongings, namely his phone, before
reaching back to feel his head again.

He had around eight stitches. The fact they
let him sleep indicated no concussion, and the lack of painkillers
meant it was likely a superficial wound. Satisfied his well being
was in no real danger, Kimber checked the room for any sign of his
shoes without finding them or his phone.

He opened the door and stepped into a
hallway very unlike those of the hospitals and clinics he had
worked in. It resembled the hall of an expensive hotel with plush
carpet, stone walls, antique furniture, paintings with heavy golden
frames and doors similar to his lining each side. Doorframes were
thick oak, and the lighting thirty feet overhead wrought iron.

“Hello?” he called.

No answer.

Puzzled as to where he was, Kimber started
down the hallway. Another hall intersected with this one. It opened
into a waiting area and nurses station – both of which were
furnished with antiques, oil paintings, lead crystal bowls and
other displays of wealth. One of the nurses stood when he entered
the area.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Private clinic.”

No shit.
No charity hospital had this kind of
money.

“If you’ll follow me.”

His gaze went from what appeared to be a
genuine Picasso hanging on the wall of the waiting room to the
nurse in purple scrubs walking down another hallway.

Kimber trailed her as requested. This hall
was short compared to the one with all the rooms and emptied out
onto a wide veranda containing a fire pit and several seating
areas. Only one other person was present, a man with salt and
pepper hair. Kimber’s gaze was drawn to the spectacular view over
the railing. The setting sun had painted the sky in brilliant
orange, pink, purple, and yellow.

Where the hell am
I?
He thought, mesmerized by the scenic
view of Sand City at sunset from a high enough elevation, he was
able to see the river that wound through the city. He had never
paid much attention to the surroundings of the city, never noticed
this tree-covered mountain overlooking it.

“Have a seat, Doctor Wellington,” said the
gentleman whose back was to him.

Kimber went to the chair beside the stranger
and tensed.

General Savage was even more imposing in
person. A bear of a man with harsh features and a mask covering the
upper half of his face, the alleged supervillain was gazing out
over the city he controlled through a combination of fear and
crime.

“What do you want from me?” Kimber asked
quietly.