Chapter One
November 10th, 8:25 AM
She heard... pounding. She smelled a faint, mildewy smell. She felt cold metal through her white latex gloves. And everything she saw-- yellow walls, chairs and tables, a man in black behind a towering lectern, human faces-- was in a haze.
"Blue Lynx," a voice intoned. "You are charged with four counts of murder in the second degree. What say you to these charges?"
She tried to respond, but her mouth had been sealed shut. Duct tape.
"You have nothing to say?"
"MMMMPH," she replied, trying to find the outlines of her surroundings. It was a courtroom. There were men, definitely large men, holding her arms to her sides. She recognized the metal feeling on her wrists: she had been handcuffed. She was standing a few yards away from a judge's bench. She could see the wavy contours of the judge, but not his face, which was covered in shadows. He was wearing an old-fashioned white wig, and the pounding sound was coming from his gavel, slamming again and again into the surface of the lectern. BAM. BAM. BAM. Each BAM seem to loosen her grip on reality. The walls tilted, the floor shook, the face of the judge seemed to expand and contract.
She needed to say something in her defense. She howled against the tape:
"MMMMMM!"
The judge shook his head and continued. "We'd like to call to the stand our only witness. Blue Lynx's partner, Margot."
A woman in black leather and bleached blonde hair emerged from a dark corner of the room. It was Sunny, the insane woman from the factory. She held in her hand a long, heavy looking chain. At the other end of the chain, connected by large metal brace secured around her neck, was Margot, dressed in a tight orange jumpsuit. A prisoner's outfit.
"Come on, sweetie," Sunny said, yanking the chain, forcing Margot toward the judge. "Take a seat." She pushed Margot down into a folding chair behind the judge's bench. Margot looked ahead into the courtroom, an expression of pure desperation on her face.
BAM. BAM. BAM.
"Margot. Where were you on the night of the 27th?"
Margot's voice came out in abrupt squeaks. "I... Was... In... A... Factory."
"With the Blue Lynx?"
"Yes," Margot sighed. "With the... Blue Lynx."
"You're her partner, then?"
"Yes."
"So who is the Blue Lynx, really? What is her real name?"
Margot gulped. "Erin Steele."
The room shifted again. The judge, the bench, Margot and Sunny blurred together. The floor seemed to drop from under her, but the hands on her arms gripped her more tightly than ever. The gavel pounded its steady, menacing rhythm. And from the massive, blurred shadow facing her, there was a voice, a bizarre hybrid of male and female, calling out in loud, unmistakable tones.
"TAKE OFF HER MASK."
Suddenly, hands. On her arms, on her legs, on her chest, on her butt. Hands holding her in place, hands preventing even the slightest movement. Hands wrapping around her every muscle. Hands around her throat. Hands on her face. Fingers prying beneath the fabric of her blue mask. Fingers peeling the mask off of her face, hands lifting the mask in the air, hands on the back of her head and her chin forcing her to look straight.
"MMMPH!" she said. "MMMPH!"
"So it is true," the voice said. The shadow in front of her churned. A block of something seemed to push out from the massive cloud, eventually began taking shape, finally settling as a face, a face she had seen before, a clean-shaven male face with cold dead eyes and slicked-back hair.
Hammerson's face.
"Erin Steele, for your crimes as the Blue Lynx, you are sentenced to life... in the stocks."
The gavel pounded. The cloud dissolved. And then, there were more hands. Hands lifting her up overhead. Hands carrying her out of the dark, blurry courtroom and into blinding sunlight. Hands holding her up by her ankles, thighs, butt, back, upper body. Hands bringing her down, hands undoing her cuffs, hands bending her over, hands placing her wrists in wooden semi-circles, hands placing her neck in a larger semi-circle inbetween. Hands clapping a wooden board over her neck and wrists.
She was on a wooden platform in the middle of a town square. She looked out and saw very little: the bright sun whited out her surroundings, made her feel like she was trapped in a void. She could feel the heat on her maskless face. Her boots were firmly on the ground, but her body was bent over into the stocks, pushing her butt into the open air She shook her hands in their wooden restraints, tried to roll her neck around. She couldn't break free.
And then, more hands. Hands on either side of her backside. Hands shifting her lower body this way and that. Fingers tracing devious paths up her thighs and around the seams of her spandex costume. Hands that had voices. Familiar voices.
"Say the second time's charm," Jackson said from behind her, as Clayton chuckled.
She felt her costume pulled from her skin, heard it rip and tear, felt fingers on her skin, heard cackling laughter, felt the sun beating down on her naked back, on her naked legs, felt her legs being kicked apart.
She looked ahead. Everything was white. She screamed.
"MMMMMPH!"
And then she woke up.
On to Chapter Two
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Two
Chapter Two
November 10th, 8:30 AM
Slender, striking Erin Steele sat on her bed in her pink pajama shorts and top, her head bowed into her hands, her long black hair flowing through her fingers.
"Ugh."
Another nightmare. Another reminder of all the horrible mistakes she had made as a crimefigher. Another flashback to the bizarre perils that had visited her and Margot in the past month: the unmaskings, the beatdowns, the traps, the imprisonments. Another icky, slimy vision of gross, leering men, their hands running over her body, their horrible laughing and grinning and taunting.
"Why?" she wondered. "We're winning. We've got Hammerson on the run. We're taking down his operation little-by-little every night."
It was true. Since that night at the factory, Blue Lynx had been on a tear. She'd successfully infiltrated another drug house, this one in an apartment complex on the south side of the city. She'd brought photos and documents to the media, had helped them craft a story about the nature of the city's drug operation. She'd taken out dozens of Hammerson's goons. And through it all, she hadn't been captured. They'd been careful, Blue Lynx and Margot: they didn't want a repeat of the factory situation, where they'd been mere seconds away from obliteration. They had meticulously plotted their nights, scoped out their environments, and kept in constant contact. And for the past two weeks, they couldn't be stopped.
But it was had to forget those weird nights of peril. For some reason, those moments of pain and humiliation and dread-- those points when it looked like her true identity had been revealed-- were more vivid than the rest. And there was something about Hammerson's face especially, that blank, clean-shaven face, topped with ridiculous slicked back hair, that face she had invited into her house for a drink, that face she might even have a secret, tiny, horrible crush on... There was something about that face that haunted her.
"I can't let him get to me," she thought. "Not when we're this close."
She hopped out of bed and stretched. She felt her muscles pop. Might be a good day for a long workout. Or maybe a good day for nothing. "Whatever," Erin thought. "I'll just take it easy and relax."
"Erin!"
It was Margot's voice, calling from outside the bedroom door.
"Erin! Hurry up!"
Erin walked to the door and opened it. Margot was standing there, already dressed in jeans, boots, a light green sweater, and her signature large-framed glasses. She tapped her toe and stared at her friend.
"You're not even dressed yet?"
Erin looked at her. "I just got up."
"Erin!" Margot said. "That thing is today! The flu shot thing!"
Margot's words hit Erin like an electric shock. Oh shit. That thing!
"Oh God, I forgot!" Erin said. "Can we just cancel it, or something?"
"No, we can't," Margot said in a peeved voice. "This is an incredible opportunity for us. This city loves the Blue Lynx. This is our best chance yet to show everyone that we love them back."
Erin scratched the back of her neck. "But they already know. Can't we..."
Margot frowned. "No, Erin. It took a lot to set this up. Go ahead, you try putting on a media event starring someone with a secret identity. You scramble the phone lines. You..."
Erin shook her head. "Okay! Okay!" she said. "I'll get ready. Just give me five minutes."
She shut the door on Margot, who was still frowning in her direction, now tapping her toe. She could hear Margot's voice mumble through the door. "I can't believe you forgot," she said. "All this planning, and I have to come wake you up. Erin, Erin, Erin. Come on."
So much for a day of relaxation.
On to Chapter Three
November 10th, 8:30 AM
Slender, striking Erin Steele sat on her bed in her pink pajama shorts and top, her head bowed into her hands, her long black hair flowing through her fingers.
"Ugh."
Another nightmare. Another reminder of all the horrible mistakes she had made as a crimefigher. Another flashback to the bizarre perils that had visited her and Margot in the past month: the unmaskings, the beatdowns, the traps, the imprisonments. Another icky, slimy vision of gross, leering men, their hands running over her body, their horrible laughing and grinning and taunting.
"Why?" she wondered. "We're winning. We've got Hammerson on the run. We're taking down his operation little-by-little every night."
It was true. Since that night at the factory, Blue Lynx had been on a tear. She'd successfully infiltrated another drug house, this one in an apartment complex on the south side of the city. She'd brought photos and documents to the media, had helped them craft a story about the nature of the city's drug operation. She'd taken out dozens of Hammerson's goons. And through it all, she hadn't been captured. They'd been careful, Blue Lynx and Margot: they didn't want a repeat of the factory situation, where they'd been mere seconds away from obliteration. They had meticulously plotted their nights, scoped out their environments, and kept in constant contact. And for the past two weeks, they couldn't be stopped.
But it was had to forget those weird nights of peril. For some reason, those moments of pain and humiliation and dread-- those points when it looked like her true identity had been revealed-- were more vivid than the rest. And there was something about Hammerson's face especially, that blank, clean-shaven face, topped with ridiculous slicked back hair, that face she had invited into her house for a drink, that face she might even have a secret, tiny, horrible crush on... There was something about that face that haunted her.
"I can't let him get to me," she thought. "Not when we're this close."
She hopped out of bed and stretched. She felt her muscles pop. Might be a good day for a long workout. Or maybe a good day for nothing. "Whatever," Erin thought. "I'll just take it easy and relax."
"Erin!"
It was Margot's voice, calling from outside the bedroom door.
"Erin! Hurry up!"
Erin walked to the door and opened it. Margot was standing there, already dressed in jeans, boots, a light green sweater, and her signature large-framed glasses. She tapped her toe and stared at her friend.
"You're not even dressed yet?"
Erin looked at her. "I just got up."
"Erin!" Margot said. "That thing is today! The flu shot thing!"
Margot's words hit Erin like an electric shock. Oh shit. That thing!
"Oh God, I forgot!" Erin said. "Can we just cancel it, or something?"
"No, we can't," Margot said in a peeved voice. "This is an incredible opportunity for us. This city loves the Blue Lynx. This is our best chance yet to show everyone that we love them back."
Erin scratched the back of her neck. "But they already know. Can't we..."
Margot frowned. "No, Erin. It took a lot to set this up. Go ahead, you try putting on a media event starring someone with a secret identity. You scramble the phone lines. You..."
Erin shook her head. "Okay! Okay!" she said. "I'll get ready. Just give me five minutes."
She shut the door on Margot, who was still frowning in her direction, now tapping her toe. She could hear Margot's voice mumble through the door. "I can't believe you forgot," she said. "All this planning, and I have to come wake you up. Erin, Erin, Erin. Come on."
So much for a day of relaxation.
On to Chapter Three
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Three
Chapter Three
November 10th, 9:43 AM
"It's probably best if I don't drive you up there."
Margot put the car in park. They were still a mile from the news station, off the beaten path in the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store. She looked at Erin, watching her unbutton her shirt. Slowly.
"Go ahead, take your time," Margot said, sarcastically.
"What?" Erin said.
"You're supposed to be there at 10."
"Jesus, Margot, I know," Erin said. She tugged off the shirt to reveal her shiny blue spandex outfit. She then unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her legs, exposing her bare legs and white knee-high socks.
"You think this is stupid," Margot said.
"Yeah, I do," Erin said, pulling on her white rubber boots. "It's a waste of time."
"It's half an hour, Erin," Margot said, drumming the steering wheel. "You'll have plenty of time to go bowling or whatever later on."
"Margot, listen," Erin said. "I had another nightmare."
Margot stopped drumming. She looked at Erin. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah. You were in it too. We were on trial. And you testified against me."
Margot giggled. "Wow. I sold out? Wild."
"It was scary," Erin continued. "Hammerson was there. Sunny was there. And they unmasked me and they put me in the stocks, like it was medieval times. And then those hillbillies ripped off my clothes and..."
"It was a dream, Erin," Margot said. "And I know they're horrible. But they're not real."
Erin pulled her rubber gloves on her hands. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one on the front line."
Margot stared at her. "Hey, if you really don't want to do this, we can turn around, Erin. We can stop this whole Blue Lynx thing right now." A note of anger had crept into her voice. "But the reason we're doing this is so that we don't have to go out every night. We can win if we have allies in the community. We can stop Hammerson if the people are on our side."
"I know, I know," Erin said, adjusting her utility belt. "But can we trust anyone, yet?"
Margot sighed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, that dream I had. It was a sign. A message. And it said that the law is not our friend, Margot. We're vigilantes."
"You're right," Margot said. "But we're not dealing with the law today."
"But they will be there," Erin said. "And it makes me nervous."
"Oh come on. You're just camera shy."
Erin placed her mask on her face and straightened it.
"No one else knows about this, alright," Margot said. "Just my contact, her crew, and the doctor who'll be giving you the shot."
"Fine, okay," Erin said. "I'm going now."
Margot nodded. "Alright. I'll pick you up here in a bit."
Erin took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped out of the car. She shut the door. As Margot sped away, Erin stuck out her tongue and stamped her foot.
"This is so stupid," she thought. She didn't want to do it. But Margot kept insisting. Kept going on and on about good relations with the community, the power of the press, all that bull. They were on a winning streak, taking down Hammerson's drug houses, doing things perfectly, being real superheroes, and now Margot wanted to go all social media on her ass. And for what cause? Getting a frickin flu shot.
They had fought about the event for days. "I know people," Margot said. "We can set something up." Erin had just shrugged. "What does it matter?" she said. "We're doing what we want to do." Margot had clicked her tongue. "We don't beat Hammerson by just beating up his goons. We have to think about the big picture."
But Erin hadn't wanted to be a superheroine for the "big picture." She didn't have a larger goal for the city; she wasn't a political person like her dad. Honestly, she'd just wanted to beat up rapists and muggers. She had wanted to leap from buildings and rescue people from fires and spar with supervillains. You know, the fun stuff.
Margot had different ideas. Erin obviously owed her big: she had saved her life on the Night at Hillbilly Manor. She was willing to indulge her friend on the smaller points of superheroine life. But events with the press? It all seemed so silly, even old-fashioned. Especially this event. A PSA for getting your flu shot? "Who cares?" Erin had said.
"It'll show people in the city that we care," Margot had replied. "That we are on their side. In the fight..."
"Against germs?"
"No! In the fight for their safety!"
Same difference, Erin had thought. And pointless and dumb either way. But if made Margot happy...
She was running now, taking the city's back alleys, trying to keep a low profile in route to the news station. It did feel good to run like this, to let her hair fly in the cool November wind. When she ran, she was invincible. She could forget about her past failures, her nightmares, this stupid news event, and let herself become engulfed in the moment. It was comparable to the feeling she had in the middle of a fight, a high you could only fully experience as a superheroine.
"It's worth it," she thought. "The bad stuff is worth it for this incredible feeling." She saw the news tower come into view, and knew she was just blocks away. "Though this event is definitely bad stuff."
It was 9:59 when she arrived in the station's back parking lot. It was Saturday, and there were just a few cars around. "The doctor should meet you in the back," Margot had said. "And they told me he'd be wearing a labcoat."
Erin looked around. There was no doctor in sight. No person at all, actually. Just a massive, tan-bricked building with a single ground floor entrance.
"Huh," Erin thought. "Maybe they cancelled?"
Erin crept toward the entrance, looking around her. The parking lot was eerily quiet. "Slow news day?" Erin thought. She arrived at the door and peered through its large pane of glass.
Suddenly, she heard a car door slam. And then a voice calling out across the parking lot.
"Blue Lynx! Over here!"
Erin turned around. A small man in a labcoat was waving his arms. He was bald with a brown mustache and glasses. He stepped away from a large green van bearing the station's logo. A cute little doctor. The man Erin was looking for.
"Hi," Erin said, walking toward him. "You're the doctor?"
"I am," the doctor said. "Nice to meet you."
They met each other in the parking lot between the station building and the van. The doctor put out a hairy hand and Erin met it with a rubber glove. The two strangers shook hands. Erin stood at least half a foot taller than he.
"I'm Doctor Gregory Todd," he said, looking into her eyes and smiling. "I'm a big fan of yours."
"Thanks," Erin said. He was a strange looking man. His glasses seemed almost painted to his head, which was small and shaped like an almond on its side. His smile was dotted with a few blackened teeth. He didn't look a whole lot like a doctor. But what did Erin really expect?
"Ready for your close-up?" Todd laughed.
Erin nodded. "Just not too close," she couldn't help but say.
The doctor smiled. "Oh I know," he said. "Protective of your identity and all that. Don't worry, Blue Lynx. This will be short and sweet. And for a good cause."
Erin put her hands on her hips. "Right. So where's the film crew?"
"Oh," Todd said, rubbing his mustache. "They're back in the van. We're going to film it back there. In the van."
Erin blinked. "In the van?"
Todd nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty spacious. You'll like it."
Who filmed a PSA inside a van? "I guess it'll be more secretive that way," Erin thought. But it still seemed far from right. It seemed like a trap.
She fingered the flaps of her utility belt absently. "Well, I'll follow you, then," she said.
The doctor smiled and turned around. He walked with a small limp, and Erin had to reduce her normal foot speed to maintain a safe distance behind him. As they came up to the van, Erin looked through the windshield. No one in the front. She noticed Todd watching her, and she turned back to him to see him smiling and beckoning toward her.
"Back here," he said.
Erin turned the corner of the van to see that its doors were wide open. She looked inside and saw a man attending to a camera, a man sitting on a bench carrying a boom microphone, and a woman in her thirties looking in a mirror and adjusting her hair. They didn't look comfortable, per se, but the van was more spacious on the inside than it appeared from the outside, just as the doctor had said.
"Blue Lynx," the woman said. "So glad you could make it. I'm Evelyn. Ready to get a flu shot?"
On to Chapter Four
November 10th, 9:43 AM
"It's probably best if I don't drive you up there."
Margot put the car in park. They were still a mile from the news station, off the beaten path in the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store. She looked at Erin, watching her unbutton her shirt. Slowly.
"Go ahead, take your time," Margot said, sarcastically.
"What?" Erin said.
"You're supposed to be there at 10."
"Jesus, Margot, I know," Erin said. She tugged off the shirt to reveal her shiny blue spandex outfit. She then unbuttoned her pants and slid them down her legs, exposing her bare legs and white knee-high socks.
"You think this is stupid," Margot said.
"Yeah, I do," Erin said, pulling on her white rubber boots. "It's a waste of time."
"It's half an hour, Erin," Margot said, drumming the steering wheel. "You'll have plenty of time to go bowling or whatever later on."
"Margot, listen," Erin said. "I had another nightmare."
Margot stopped drumming. She looked at Erin. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah. You were in it too. We were on trial. And you testified against me."
Margot giggled. "Wow. I sold out? Wild."
"It was scary," Erin continued. "Hammerson was there. Sunny was there. And they unmasked me and they put me in the stocks, like it was medieval times. And then those hillbillies ripped off my clothes and..."
"It was a dream, Erin," Margot said. "And I know they're horrible. But they're not real."
Erin pulled her rubber gloves on her hands. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one on the front line."
Margot stared at her. "Hey, if you really don't want to do this, we can turn around, Erin. We can stop this whole Blue Lynx thing right now." A note of anger had crept into her voice. "But the reason we're doing this is so that we don't have to go out every night. We can win if we have allies in the community. We can stop Hammerson if the people are on our side."
"I know, I know," Erin said, adjusting her utility belt. "But can we trust anyone, yet?"
Margot sighed. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, that dream I had. It was a sign. A message. And it said that the law is not our friend, Margot. We're vigilantes."
"You're right," Margot said. "But we're not dealing with the law today."
"But they will be there," Erin said. "And it makes me nervous."
"Oh come on. You're just camera shy."
Erin placed her mask on her face and straightened it.
"No one else knows about this, alright," Margot said. "Just my contact, her crew, and the doctor who'll be giving you the shot."
"Fine, okay," Erin said. "I'm going now."
Margot nodded. "Alright. I'll pick you up here in a bit."
Erin took a deep breath, exhaled, and stepped out of the car. She shut the door. As Margot sped away, Erin stuck out her tongue and stamped her foot.
"This is so stupid," she thought. She didn't want to do it. But Margot kept insisting. Kept going on and on about good relations with the community, the power of the press, all that bull. They were on a winning streak, taking down Hammerson's drug houses, doing things perfectly, being real superheroes, and now Margot wanted to go all social media on her ass. And for what cause? Getting a frickin flu shot.
They had fought about the event for days. "I know people," Margot said. "We can set something up." Erin had just shrugged. "What does it matter?" she said. "We're doing what we want to do." Margot had clicked her tongue. "We don't beat Hammerson by just beating up his goons. We have to think about the big picture."
But Erin hadn't wanted to be a superheroine for the "big picture." She didn't have a larger goal for the city; she wasn't a political person like her dad. Honestly, she'd just wanted to beat up rapists and muggers. She had wanted to leap from buildings and rescue people from fires and spar with supervillains. You know, the fun stuff.
Margot had different ideas. Erin obviously owed her big: she had saved her life on the Night at Hillbilly Manor. She was willing to indulge her friend on the smaller points of superheroine life. But events with the press? It all seemed so silly, even old-fashioned. Especially this event. A PSA for getting your flu shot? "Who cares?" Erin had said.
"It'll show people in the city that we care," Margot had replied. "That we are on their side. In the fight..."
"Against germs?"
"No! In the fight for their safety!"
Same difference, Erin had thought. And pointless and dumb either way. But if made Margot happy...
She was running now, taking the city's back alleys, trying to keep a low profile in route to the news station. It did feel good to run like this, to let her hair fly in the cool November wind. When she ran, she was invincible. She could forget about her past failures, her nightmares, this stupid news event, and let herself become engulfed in the moment. It was comparable to the feeling she had in the middle of a fight, a high you could only fully experience as a superheroine.
"It's worth it," she thought. "The bad stuff is worth it for this incredible feeling." She saw the news tower come into view, and knew she was just blocks away. "Though this event is definitely bad stuff."
It was 9:59 when she arrived in the station's back parking lot. It was Saturday, and there were just a few cars around. "The doctor should meet you in the back," Margot had said. "And they told me he'd be wearing a labcoat."
Erin looked around. There was no doctor in sight. No person at all, actually. Just a massive, tan-bricked building with a single ground floor entrance.
"Huh," Erin thought. "Maybe they cancelled?"
Erin crept toward the entrance, looking around her. The parking lot was eerily quiet. "Slow news day?" Erin thought. She arrived at the door and peered through its large pane of glass.
Suddenly, she heard a car door slam. And then a voice calling out across the parking lot.
"Blue Lynx! Over here!"
Erin turned around. A small man in a labcoat was waving his arms. He was bald with a brown mustache and glasses. He stepped away from a large green van bearing the station's logo. A cute little doctor. The man Erin was looking for.
"Hi," Erin said, walking toward him. "You're the doctor?"
"I am," the doctor said. "Nice to meet you."
They met each other in the parking lot between the station building and the van. The doctor put out a hairy hand and Erin met it with a rubber glove. The two strangers shook hands. Erin stood at least half a foot taller than he.
"I'm Doctor Gregory Todd," he said, looking into her eyes and smiling. "I'm a big fan of yours."
"Thanks," Erin said. He was a strange looking man. His glasses seemed almost painted to his head, which was small and shaped like an almond on its side. His smile was dotted with a few blackened teeth. He didn't look a whole lot like a doctor. But what did Erin really expect?
"Ready for your close-up?" Todd laughed.
Erin nodded. "Just not too close," she couldn't help but say.
The doctor smiled. "Oh I know," he said. "Protective of your identity and all that. Don't worry, Blue Lynx. This will be short and sweet. And for a good cause."
Erin put her hands on her hips. "Right. So where's the film crew?"
"Oh," Todd said, rubbing his mustache. "They're back in the van. We're going to film it back there. In the van."
Erin blinked. "In the van?"
Todd nodded. "Yeah, it's pretty spacious. You'll like it."
Who filmed a PSA inside a van? "I guess it'll be more secretive that way," Erin thought. But it still seemed far from right. It seemed like a trap.
She fingered the flaps of her utility belt absently. "Well, I'll follow you, then," she said.
The doctor smiled and turned around. He walked with a small limp, and Erin had to reduce her normal foot speed to maintain a safe distance behind him. As they came up to the van, Erin looked through the windshield. No one in the front. She noticed Todd watching her, and she turned back to him to see him smiling and beckoning toward her.
"Back here," he said.
Erin turned the corner of the van to see that its doors were wide open. She looked inside and saw a man attending to a camera, a man sitting on a bench carrying a boom microphone, and a woman in her thirties looking in a mirror and adjusting her hair. They didn't look comfortable, per se, but the van was more spacious on the inside than it appeared from the outside, just as the doctor had said.
"Blue Lynx," the woman said. "So glad you could make it. I'm Evelyn. Ready to get a flu shot?"
On to Chapter Four
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Four
Chapter Four
November 10th, 10:20 AM
She had been standing perfectly still for just five minutes, but it had seemed like an hour. She was in the back on the van now, looking out through its doors into the parking lot, watching the camera man and audio guy make their final preparations. Evelyn, the news reporter and apparently Margot's contact, was dabbing something on her face with a makeup brush.
"I don't mean to be rude," Evelyn said. "But you have such a beautiful face, and we really want it to pop on camera."
"Just watch the mask, okay?" Blue Lynx said for at least the third time in the past two minutes. For the most part, Evelyn was discreet, but Erin could occasionally feel the brush pull up on the strings of her mask.
"Of course," Evelyn said, standing back from Blue Lynx, scanning her from head to toe and back again. "We're on your side, babe."
Erin hoped so. Once she had gotten in the van, things had seemed normal. It was just a small film crew setting up. That was all. Her sense of peace might have been helped by the absence of Dr. Todd, who Erin hadn't seen since he'd led her through the van's back doors.
"This is good for us, good for you, and good for the city," Evelyn said. "Now could you turn around, please?"
"What?" Erin said.
"Just turn around for a second."
"Okay," Erin said, turning so that she faced the back of the van. She heard a small titter from one of the men, followed by a two-note wolf whistle.
"Okay, you can turn back," Evelyn said.
Erin turned around and looked at her, then at the cameraman and audio guy, both of whom were grinning. "What was that for?" she stammered.
"Oh, Mark just wanted to check out your ass," Evelyn laughed.
Erin's face flushed red. She scowled as the men burst out laughing.
"Consider it a deleted scene," the cameraman said.
"That's not funny," Erin said. "You're disgusting."
"Oh lighten up, princess," Evelyn said. "It's the news." She stepped toward Blue Lynx with the makeup kit. "If you can't handle that..."
Erin snatched Evelyn by the wrist. "Film the PSA. Now."
She squeezed Evelyn's arm. The reporter cried out and stepped back.
"Jesus," she said. "Fine. Bitch."
Erin shook her head. "Just film it. So I can get out of here."
"You know, bitter's not a good look for you," Evelyn said, stepping back toward the van's entrance. "Doc! She's ready now."
Doctor Todd stepped up and into the van. He seemed to lose his footing, and the audio guy had to help him up by the arm. Todd signaled that he was fine and looked at the Blue Lynx. He smiled.
"You look great. Now. Let's do it."
The doctor stepped to a tray with a few medical implements. Evelyn found a place near Erin and stood up straight. She turned her face back toward Erin and sneered, and then faced the camera. She put four fingers in the air.
Erin inhaled. And exhaled. "Here we go," she thought. She watched the audio guy position his microphone over her head, saw the cameraman stationed behind his instrument. Evelyn dropped her fingers one by one, and then, she began to speak.
"We're here with the city's new superheroine, Blue Lynx, to talk about the importance of getting a flu shot. As you know..."
Erin tuned out Evelyn's speech, which she had already heard the reporter practice multiple times. She focused her attention on Todd, who was examining a syringe in the light of the van. He gazed at the needle with a curious look, and then at Erin. He smiled broadly. "Ready?" he mouthed.
"So now Blue Lynx will receive her flu shot," Evelyn said. "She's such a brave little girl."
For a moment, Erin glared at Evelyn, then quickly resumed her the pleasant, closed-mouth smile she had worn since the camera started rolling. Margot's contact was a real bitch.
Todd had stepped toward Erin, close enough so that she could hear him breathing. "I'll have to roll up your sleeve to find a vein," he said, loud enough so the camera could hear.
"Wait," Erin said. "Is that really necessary?"
Evelyn laughed. "Who's the doctor here, Blue Lynx? The guy in the labcoat? Or the girl in the blue spandex?"
Once again, Erin couldn't help but flash a look of pure fury at Evelyn. "Stay calm," she told herself, silently. She felt the doctor's hairy hands on her wrist.
"Alright, if you say so," Erin said, forcing a laugh. "It's for my health, right?"
"Exactly," Todd said, his eyes glimmering as he pulled Erin's blue spandex sleeve from under her glove and began rolling it up her arm. Erin felt the hairs on her arm prickle as they were exposed to the cold air of the van. The doctor rolled her sleeve up to her shoulder so that a large wad of blue fabric seemed to double her shoulder's size.
It all felt wrong, almost inappropriate for television. Erin tried to remind herself that it was for the best. "For Margot," she said. "If for nothing else."
Todd now brought the syringe up near her face. "Ready, dearie?"
Erin nodded. And in a fast, abrupt motion, the doctor plunged the needle into Erin's upper arm and pushed the pump.
"Oww!" Erin cried out. Sharp pain flooded through her arm. Erin had gotten shots before, but they usually weren't that bad. "Right?" she thought.
Todd removed the syringe and smiled. "There."
He went to fetch a band-aid, but Erin shook her head and starting pulling down her sleeve. "Thanks Doctor, but I don't think superheroines need band-aids."
Evelyn giggled. "That sounded like it hurt, Blue Lynx! Are you going to be okay?"
Erin tucked her sleeve back into her glove and tried to suppress a glare. "I'll be fine. I'm better now that I'm safe from the flu."
Evelyn turned back to the camera. "So there you have it. Thank you for being with us today Blue Lynx. And remember folks: get your flu shot!"
The cameraman said "Cut." The audio guy set the microphone down. Dr. Todd fiddled with his instruments on the metal tray. And Erin let her smile relax. She rubbed her arm. It still hurt like hell, far more than any other injection she'd ever received.
Evelyn turned around to face her.
"You want a sticker? You did so good!" Evelyn said, with a high-pitched, mocking voice.
"No thanks, I'm leaving," Erin said. She looked away from the reporter and walked toward the van doors. She jumped from the van onto the asphalt of the parking lot, feeling her arm throb as her boots met the ground. Just as readied herself for a sprint back to the other lot, she heard snickering, followed by the voice of the doctor.
"Please be in touch if there are any side effects," Todd said, with a smirk that was practically audible.
And Erin took off, running as fast as she could, trying to clear her mind of this odd, uncomfortable morning, and trying to not focus on the immense, growing pain in her upper arm.
On to Chapter Five
November 10th, 10:20 AM
She had been standing perfectly still for just five minutes, but it had seemed like an hour. She was in the back on the van now, looking out through its doors into the parking lot, watching the camera man and audio guy make their final preparations. Evelyn, the news reporter and apparently Margot's contact, was dabbing something on her face with a makeup brush.
"I don't mean to be rude," Evelyn said. "But you have such a beautiful face, and we really want it to pop on camera."
"Just watch the mask, okay?" Blue Lynx said for at least the third time in the past two minutes. For the most part, Evelyn was discreet, but Erin could occasionally feel the brush pull up on the strings of her mask.
"Of course," Evelyn said, standing back from Blue Lynx, scanning her from head to toe and back again. "We're on your side, babe."
Erin hoped so. Once she had gotten in the van, things had seemed normal. It was just a small film crew setting up. That was all. Her sense of peace might have been helped by the absence of Dr. Todd, who Erin hadn't seen since he'd led her through the van's back doors.
"This is good for us, good for you, and good for the city," Evelyn said. "Now could you turn around, please?"
"What?" Erin said.
"Just turn around for a second."
"Okay," Erin said, turning so that she faced the back of the van. She heard a small titter from one of the men, followed by a two-note wolf whistle.
"Okay, you can turn back," Evelyn said.
Erin turned around and looked at her, then at the cameraman and audio guy, both of whom were grinning. "What was that for?" she stammered.
"Oh, Mark just wanted to check out your ass," Evelyn laughed.
Erin's face flushed red. She scowled as the men burst out laughing.
"Consider it a deleted scene," the cameraman said.
"That's not funny," Erin said. "You're disgusting."
"Oh lighten up, princess," Evelyn said. "It's the news." She stepped toward Blue Lynx with the makeup kit. "If you can't handle that..."
Erin snatched Evelyn by the wrist. "Film the PSA. Now."
She squeezed Evelyn's arm. The reporter cried out and stepped back.
"Jesus," she said. "Fine. Bitch."
Erin shook her head. "Just film it. So I can get out of here."
"You know, bitter's not a good look for you," Evelyn said, stepping back toward the van's entrance. "Doc! She's ready now."
Doctor Todd stepped up and into the van. He seemed to lose his footing, and the audio guy had to help him up by the arm. Todd signaled that he was fine and looked at the Blue Lynx. He smiled.
"You look great. Now. Let's do it."
The doctor stepped to a tray with a few medical implements. Evelyn found a place near Erin and stood up straight. She turned her face back toward Erin and sneered, and then faced the camera. She put four fingers in the air.
Erin inhaled. And exhaled. "Here we go," she thought. She watched the audio guy position his microphone over her head, saw the cameraman stationed behind his instrument. Evelyn dropped her fingers one by one, and then, she began to speak.
"We're here with the city's new superheroine, Blue Lynx, to talk about the importance of getting a flu shot. As you know..."
Erin tuned out Evelyn's speech, which she had already heard the reporter practice multiple times. She focused her attention on Todd, who was examining a syringe in the light of the van. He gazed at the needle with a curious look, and then at Erin. He smiled broadly. "Ready?" he mouthed.
"So now Blue Lynx will receive her flu shot," Evelyn said. "She's such a brave little girl."
For a moment, Erin glared at Evelyn, then quickly resumed her the pleasant, closed-mouth smile she had worn since the camera started rolling. Margot's contact was a real bitch.
Todd had stepped toward Erin, close enough so that she could hear him breathing. "I'll have to roll up your sleeve to find a vein," he said, loud enough so the camera could hear.
"Wait," Erin said. "Is that really necessary?"
Evelyn laughed. "Who's the doctor here, Blue Lynx? The guy in the labcoat? Or the girl in the blue spandex?"
Once again, Erin couldn't help but flash a look of pure fury at Evelyn. "Stay calm," she told herself, silently. She felt the doctor's hairy hands on her wrist.
"Alright, if you say so," Erin said, forcing a laugh. "It's for my health, right?"
"Exactly," Todd said, his eyes glimmering as he pulled Erin's blue spandex sleeve from under her glove and began rolling it up her arm. Erin felt the hairs on her arm prickle as they were exposed to the cold air of the van. The doctor rolled her sleeve up to her shoulder so that a large wad of blue fabric seemed to double her shoulder's size.
It all felt wrong, almost inappropriate for television. Erin tried to remind herself that it was for the best. "For Margot," she said. "If for nothing else."
Todd now brought the syringe up near her face. "Ready, dearie?"
Erin nodded. And in a fast, abrupt motion, the doctor plunged the needle into Erin's upper arm and pushed the pump.
"Oww!" Erin cried out. Sharp pain flooded through her arm. Erin had gotten shots before, but they usually weren't that bad. "Right?" she thought.
Todd removed the syringe and smiled. "There."
He went to fetch a band-aid, but Erin shook her head and starting pulling down her sleeve. "Thanks Doctor, but I don't think superheroines need band-aids."
Evelyn giggled. "That sounded like it hurt, Blue Lynx! Are you going to be okay?"
Erin tucked her sleeve back into her glove and tried to suppress a glare. "I'll be fine. I'm better now that I'm safe from the flu."
Evelyn turned back to the camera. "So there you have it. Thank you for being with us today Blue Lynx. And remember folks: get your flu shot!"
The cameraman said "Cut." The audio guy set the microphone down. Dr. Todd fiddled with his instruments on the metal tray. And Erin let her smile relax. She rubbed her arm. It still hurt like hell, far more than any other injection she'd ever received.
Evelyn turned around to face her.
"You want a sticker? You did so good!" Evelyn said, with a high-pitched, mocking voice.
"No thanks, I'm leaving," Erin said. She looked away from the reporter and walked toward the van doors. She jumped from the van onto the asphalt of the parking lot, feeling her arm throb as her boots met the ground. Just as readied herself for a sprint back to the other lot, she heard snickering, followed by the voice of the doctor.
"Please be in touch if there are any side effects," Todd said, with a smirk that was practically audible.
And Erin took off, running as fast as she could, trying to clear her mind of this odd, uncomfortable morning, and trying to not focus on the immense, growing pain in her upper arm.
On to Chapter Five
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Five
Chapter Five
November 11th, 4:02 PM
Margot stood at the stove, hovering over a large pot. She felt the warm steam rising from the stew, invading her nostrils. It fogged up her glasses, made her skin tickle with warmth. She smiled. And she tried to tune out Erin, who had been ranting for more than a day now.
"You still don't understand," Erin said. She was pacing in and out of the kitchen, wearing an over-sized white sweater and black leggings. "They're going to put it on TV. It's not a good look for me. It's humiliating."
She coughed. She had been coughing a lot since yesterday.
"You feeling okay?" Margot asked, stirring the pot with a large wooden spoon.
"I'm fine," Erin said. "It still hurts though." She rubbed her upper arm and winced.
"Sorry," Margot said. She hadn't looked at Erin in a while. She didn't want to do anything to set off another screaming fit.
"And that's the best you can say," Erin said. "Sorry."
"What else is there to say?" Margot asked. She tried to focus on the stew. Beef and potatoes and corn. The simple pleasures.
"You don't get it, Margot," Erin said, moving toward the stove. "You're always just sitting in the car. You don't know what it's like to be out there. To have all those men staring at you. To put your life on the line."
Margot now turned toward Erin with a glare. "You weren't in danger. You were shooting a PSA."
"It was so POINTLESS," Erin said. The last syllable was cut off abruptly by a round of hacking coughs. Erin bent over and put a hand on her chest, hoping to settle herself down.
"You need to lie down, Erin," Margot said. "You're not looking good."
Erin stood tall. "Don't tell me what to do."
"It was a mistake," Margot admitted. "Okay? I messed up. I didn't know Evelyn was such an awful person..."
"Understatement of the year."
Margot frowned. "Will you let me finish?"
"No. I won't," Erin said. "I'm the superhero. You listen to me."
Margot set the spoon down on the counter and locked eyes with her roommate. "What the hell is this? We're a team, Erin. I'll admitting that I messed up. I made a mistake. Now please, sit down. We'll have some stew and forget about this."
"I don't want to sit," Erin said, turning away from Margot. "I want to go out and fight."
Margot watched as Erin bent over again and emitted a series of coughs.
"You're clearly in no condition to do that."
"That's funny," Erin said, twisting her head around to give Margot a scornful look. "Because I just had my flu shot."
"Erin," Margot said. "Enough of this."
Erin bent to pick up a duffel bag, the one containing the pieces of her Blue Lynx costume. She walked toward the door of their apartment, waving her free hand.
"See you later, Margot. I'm off to do my job."
She marched through the door and slammed it shut. The force of impact rattled the pictures on the friends' wall.
Margot sighed. She was sorry. She had said so to Erin multiple times. It had been a dumb idea, and the news crew and that doctor... What was his name, Todd?... had been completely inappropriate.
She looked down into the stew, stirring it mechanically. Dr. Gregory Todd. Evelyn hadn't said his name when she and Margot had communicated over the phone. It was an odd name, and everything Erin said about him had been equally strange and, well, kind of creepy. What was that comment Erin said he had shouted at her? Something about "side effects"?
Margot set down the spoon and pulled out her phone. She typed "Gregory Todd" into Google. There were no results for local doctors. She checked the image search for a picture of a small man with a mustache and missing teeth. Still nothing.
"Who is this guy?" Margot wondered.
It was hours later, sitting at the table in front of her stew, her phone in her hand, that Margot found out. "Gregory Todd," it appeared, was not a real name. But "Grigory Todorov" was. He had been a doctor, until a series of malpractice suits forced him to surrender his license.
"So why is he giving out flu shots?"
Margot couldn't find the answer to that question. But she did find a photograph of a small man with a mustache grinning a big toothless grin. He was wearing scrubs and a stethoscope. And he was being embraced by a taller man in a suit. A familiar, clean-shaven man with dead eyes and unmistakable slicked-back hair.
Margot dropped the phone and almost spat out her stew.
"Oh no."
On to Chapter Six
November 11th, 4:02 PM
Margot stood at the stove, hovering over a large pot. She felt the warm steam rising from the stew, invading her nostrils. It fogged up her glasses, made her skin tickle with warmth. She smiled. And she tried to tune out Erin, who had been ranting for more than a day now.
"You still don't understand," Erin said. She was pacing in and out of the kitchen, wearing an over-sized white sweater and black leggings. "They're going to put it on TV. It's not a good look for me. It's humiliating."
She coughed. She had been coughing a lot since yesterday.
"You feeling okay?" Margot asked, stirring the pot with a large wooden spoon.
"I'm fine," Erin said. "It still hurts though." She rubbed her upper arm and winced.
"Sorry," Margot said. She hadn't looked at Erin in a while. She didn't want to do anything to set off another screaming fit.
"And that's the best you can say," Erin said. "Sorry."
"What else is there to say?" Margot asked. She tried to focus on the stew. Beef and potatoes and corn. The simple pleasures.
"You don't get it, Margot," Erin said, moving toward the stove. "You're always just sitting in the car. You don't know what it's like to be out there. To have all those men staring at you. To put your life on the line."
Margot now turned toward Erin with a glare. "You weren't in danger. You were shooting a PSA."
"It was so POINTLESS," Erin said. The last syllable was cut off abruptly by a round of hacking coughs. Erin bent over and put a hand on her chest, hoping to settle herself down.
"You need to lie down, Erin," Margot said. "You're not looking good."
Erin stood tall. "Don't tell me what to do."
"It was a mistake," Margot admitted. "Okay? I messed up. I didn't know Evelyn was such an awful person..."
"Understatement of the year."
Margot frowned. "Will you let me finish?"
"No. I won't," Erin said. "I'm the superhero. You listen to me."
Margot set the spoon down on the counter and locked eyes with her roommate. "What the hell is this? We're a team, Erin. I'll admitting that I messed up. I made a mistake. Now please, sit down. We'll have some stew and forget about this."
"I don't want to sit," Erin said, turning away from Margot. "I want to go out and fight."
Margot watched as Erin bent over again and emitted a series of coughs.
"You're clearly in no condition to do that."
"That's funny," Erin said, twisting her head around to give Margot a scornful look. "Because I just had my flu shot."
"Erin," Margot said. "Enough of this."
Erin bent to pick up a duffel bag, the one containing the pieces of her Blue Lynx costume. She walked toward the door of their apartment, waving her free hand.
"See you later, Margot. I'm off to do my job."
She marched through the door and slammed it shut. The force of impact rattled the pictures on the friends' wall.
Margot sighed. She was sorry. She had said so to Erin multiple times. It had been a dumb idea, and the news crew and that doctor... What was his name, Todd?... had been completely inappropriate.
She looked down into the stew, stirring it mechanically. Dr. Gregory Todd. Evelyn hadn't said his name when she and Margot had communicated over the phone. It was an odd name, and everything Erin said about him had been equally strange and, well, kind of creepy. What was that comment Erin said he had shouted at her? Something about "side effects"?
Margot set down the spoon and pulled out her phone. She typed "Gregory Todd" into Google. There were no results for local doctors. She checked the image search for a picture of a small man with a mustache and missing teeth. Still nothing.
"Who is this guy?" Margot wondered.
It was hours later, sitting at the table in front of her stew, her phone in her hand, that Margot found out. "Gregory Todd," it appeared, was not a real name. But "Grigory Todorov" was. He had been a doctor, until a series of malpractice suits forced him to surrender his license.
"So why is he giving out flu shots?"
Margot couldn't find the answer to that question. But she did find a photograph of a small man with a mustache grinning a big toothless grin. He was wearing scrubs and a stethoscope. And he was being embraced by a taller man in a suit. A familiar, clean-shaven man with dead eyes and unmistakable slicked-back hair.
Margot dropped the phone and almost spat out her stew.
"Oh no."
On to Chapter Six
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Six
Chapter Six
November 11th, 8:25 PM
The blustery night air whipped Erin's hair around her face. It was cold up here, on top of a four-story campus housing development, with the sun already set and much of her skin exposed, but the Blue Lynx, with her gloved hands perched on her belted hips, gazing out onto the dazzling cityscape, barely thought about that. Her body was hot with expectation, with the sense that the night promised the thrills that a girl could only experience as a superheroine. But it was hot in another way, too, an uncomfortable way that made her spandex outfit feel clammy and brought beads of sweat to her brow.
She coughed. "Ugh," she thought. "Maybe I should've had some of Margot's stew."
Whatever. It didn't matter. As soon as adrenaline kicked in, Erin knew she'd stop feeling so ill. Once she was in the middle of things-- sneaking around, kicking ass, discovering hideouts, the works-- she might as well be in another world.
So where was the crime?
Erin had been searching around, moving from post to post, leaping from building for building, for at least an hour. But she hadn't caught wind of a single infraction. Typically, weekends around campus were goldmines for basic superheroine action. But tonight, she'd hadn't even seen a jaywalker. It was strange.
"Maybe they get it," Erin mused. "Maybe they've figured out that if they want to do evil, they have to reckon with the Blue Lynx."
Suddenly, a shriek. Erin turned her ear toward the direction of the sound. Silence.
She ran toward the edge of the complex and, in a single titanic movement, vaulted off its ledge, springing through the night air and landing yards away on another rooftop. She poked her ear out again, trying to pick up any other noises.
She heard something. A peep. Scuffling sounds.
She ran to the far edge of the new building and peered over. There, in the dark of an alley, she could see them. Human figures. Four large ones and one smaller one. Two of the bigger bodies seeming to grip the smaller body, from which the peeping sounds continued. The other two large bodies looked onto the scene, mostly motionless, but clearly gearing up for something.
"I've seen this before," Erin thought. "I've got to hurry."
She located a ladder on the roof and quickly shimmied down. The ladder ended at a second story balcony, from which Erin leapt into an open, mostly full dumpster. The garbage cushioned her landing, and she jumped from the receptacle to the ground with a minimum of wasted movement. She pressed herself against brick wall bordering the alley and spied around the corner.
The alley was filthy, mostly empty, far away from the main streets of campus. Twenty yards from the cornered where Erin looked, there were two young men, probably college students, holding up a struggling young woman by her arms. Two additional young men looked on with broad, menacing smiles. None of the men appeared to be armed, but they were all of decent height and build. They could've been athletes, maybe just obsessive weight lifters. The two holders gripped the woman, a fraction of their size, so that she could only kick her legs around wildly.
"I could take them out one-by-one," Erin thought. "But where's the fun in that?"
She walked from behind the corner and stood at the entrance of the alley, her hands on her hips. She whistled. All four men turned around to look at her.
"Hello boys."
One of the men gripping the woman spoke up. "It's the Blue Cat... Lady!"
Erin shook her head, taking calm, slow steps toward the group. "Blue Lynx," she said.
"Get out of here, bitch," one of the witnesses yelled. "This isn't your place."
Erin smiled. "Wrong. This is exactly my place. Taking out garbage like you. Now let--"
Erin erupted into a series of coughs. She brought her glove to her mouth, trying to stifle the sounds. "Not now," she thought. "Not right now."
A few of the men giggled. "You feeling okay, Blue Lynx?"
Erin got a hold of her coughing and tried to stand as straight as she could. "Let her go," she said.
There was more laughter. And then, the other man gripping the woman spoke up. "I don't think so, babe. I think she's staying with us tonight. But there's no reason why she should be alone."
Another voice. "Yeah. We could probably get something going, Blue Lynx. A threesome."
Erin scoffed. "I'll pass."
"That wasn't a request, superheroine," the first man gripping the woman said. "It was a demand." He gestured with his chin at the two free men. "Get her."
The two bystanders rushed passed the struggling young woman and toward Erin, their arms swinging through the air, looks of ugly animal lust on their faces. They always ran toward her, like moths to the flame. She could work with this, especially in this cramped alley. She could use their weight against them, have them bouncing off the walls in seconds,
"Silly boys," Erin said, striking a fighting pose.
The first man arrived, taking a big swing at Erin's face. Erin ducked the punch and sank her elbow into the man's stomach, pushing her body into his, and forcing him against the wall of the alley. He hit the wall hard, and his arms raised up in pain as he slumped toward the ground. Erin swiftly turned around to face the second man, who was winding up a punch of his own. Erin countered with a sudden jab to his chin. The speedy hit knocked the man's head back, and Erin used the moment to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to his upper body. The kick sent him back against the other wall, so that the two men now sat on the ground, plastered to opposite walls and facing each other, their bodies flushed with surprise and pain.
"Shit!" one of the holding men yelled. "We gotta get out of here!"
"No you idiot!" the other screamed. "We gotta get her!"
He dropped his hold on the young woman, who fell to her knees before quickly getting up and scrambling away. Erin eyed the scene from afar, still primarily occupied with the first two men, both of whom were getting to their feet. She kicked the first one back into the wall, then spun around to face the second. And she pulled her arm back to punch...
And was gripped by incredible pain. It started in her stomach-- he brought her hands immediately to her abdomen, wincing-- and then surged into her upper body and arms. Aching pain, all over her body, and sharp twinges of pure agony at isolated points. Her legs buckled, and seconds later he knees were on the damp, dirty pavement, her head bowed, her body drawn up into a tight blue ball.
"What?" she thought. "What's... (she had to struggle to think through the pain)... happening?"
She could sense that the second man was up on his feet, and that he was now looming over her, probably wondering what the hell was going on, too. She heard the clopping of the other men's feet stop just a few yards away from her down the alley. They too were looking on in amazement.
Erin gripped her stomach with her gloves, trying to extract the pain from her insides with tense, scrabbling fingers. But waves of torment flooded through her system, making her muscles throb, tightening her face into a rictus of confusion and discomfort. She began to cough, and then coughed again and again, her head shaking with each explosive hack. What the men planned to do was now irrelevant to her weakened mind and body. All she could concentrate on was her pain.
"Is this... a trick?" one of the men said.
"Only one way to find out."
One of men dashed over to Erin. Before she could react, or even think about reacting, the man's shoe had been lifted up and into her face. The kick took her out of her crouched position and onto her back, where she groaned in pain and shook her extremities weakly.
"Oh..." she said. "Oh..."
They were attacking her again. They would kill her if she didn't get up. But--
More pain flared up, in her legs, in her neck, in her head. She couldn't get up. She could barely breathe. If she could reach something in her belt-- a Lynx dart-- she could maybe fend off a few of the men and escape. She brought a glove to a belt pocket with halting, obvious movements. She had unbuttoned the flap when she felt a man's hand grip her wrist.
"Not so fast, Blue Lynx."
The man pulled her arm up from her body, yanking Erin up to her feet. She could barely stand-- her toes pointed in at each other, and her knees shook-- and if hadn't been for the man's hand, raising her arm up high above her head, she would have just as easily fallen back to the wet, black concrete. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth half open. She could hear small snickers, and one voice cutting through the darkness.
"Take the belt off."
A man's rough fingers patted their way around her waist, looking for her belt buckle. They eventually found their target in the snap against Erin's lower back. Erin heard a "click," and then felt a weight lifted off her hips. The pain blurred out everything, so that she barely knew what it meant to have her belt taken from her. She barely cared when she felt the rough fingers again, this time in the form of soft but firm slaps on her ass. There were more voices.
"A girl like you shouldn't go around with weapons like these. Too dangerous."
A shaking sound, and then the sound of her tools-- the darts, the bombs, the rope, her phone-- shaking in their pockets in a clinking echo.
"A girl like you-- with an ass like that"-- she felt the slapping hand spread its fingers, grip her buttock, and pinch-- "Should be with us."
She tried to look ahead through the red, torturous waves that had rendered her helpless. Squinting and wincing, she could see the outlines of man holding her up by the arm. He was one of the bystanders from before. Tall. White. Crew cut. Flecks of acne. She could beat him, easily, if not for this incredible agony. She tried to say so.
"You... You won't..."
Speaking required too much effort. She hesitated, coughed, then stopped completely, and then heard the men laugh together.
"Can I rough her up a little bit before, you know?"
More laughter. "Sure Jimmy. I guess you're looking for a little payback after she kicked your ass a minute ago."
Erin heard a grunt, and then felt the grip on her wrist relax. She fell backward into the arms of another man, who immediately pulled her in close. She felt his biceps crushing her upper body, and could sense his hands wandering up from her stomach toward her chest. She tried to kick out of the bearhug, but even at full strength, she would've had trouble with this massive frame. And she was about as far from full strength as she had even been.
Suddenly, she felt movement. Her boots her clattering along the ground. The man was dragging her, rushing her along the alleyway. She couldn't see ahead; she couldn't see anything except the outline of the man's arms. "Off you go!" the man bellowed, and Erin abruptly felt his arms drop. She was spinning, flying, tumbling through the air. She was weightless. And then she slammed against a group of trash cans, crushing one of them from the side, blowing the lids off, throwing trash into the alleyway.
She could see the stars now. Stars and the parallel bars that were the blue-black buildings rising four stories up above her. It would have been peaceful but for the metal and garbage that had been piled beneath, on, and around Erin's body. It would have been peaceful but for the fact that every part of her ached.
Her head lay on the ground, and she could feel her hair being soaked in a puddle. "I must... escape," she thought. "But I can't even move." She had to do something. She could launch her grapple hook up to the roof. "Yes. The hook!" And then she remembered that the hook was in her belt. And she remembered that her belt was in the slimy hands of one of her attackers.
Before she could think of any more plans, she was being wrenched to her feet again, this time by both wrists. The rough hands dropped her gloves, and her arms swung lazily to her sides, until a heavy blow to the stomach had her doubled over, her arms around her abdomen once more.
"Bitch!" a voice croaked. "How do you like it?"
A quick shove to her shoulders pushed over back, and she waved her arms wildly as she lost her balance, finally toppling over onto the heap of trash and busted trash cans. She seemed to rest on a toppled throne, her arms and legs drooped nonchalantly over piles of black garbage. She coughed multiple times, each hack sending ripples through her torso.
"I'm not done with you," the same voice said. A hand now snatched the angle of blue spandex that formed a "V" near the cleavage of Erin's breasts. The hand pulled the fabric back so that it first separated from Erin's chest, and then pulled Erin herself up and off of the garbage, so that she now sat awkwardly between the ground and the man, hanging in the air on a several inch line of stretchy blue spandex.
This moment continued a while longer, and Erin assumed it was because the man was looking inside her top, was ogling her ample breasts hemmed in by a sexy black bra with light pink polka dots. "I've got to get... a sports bra..." Erin thought.
The man giggled, and then, still holding Erin by the edge of her outfit, pushed her toward toward the ground and released, so that she sprang back-and-forth like a wet blue superheroine yo-yo. The giggles grew into hearty guffaws as Blue Lynx bounced around helplessly, completely in the grip of pain.
"Alright, that's enough," another voice said. "You've had your fun."
Erin felt the spandex snap back against her chest as she plunged down into the garbage heap. She coughed, winced, moaned and groaned. It couldn't end here, could it? It couldn't really end like this. Why was she so weak?
"Let's get the main event going."
Hands grabbed her again, pairs of hands lifting her by her biceps. She was in the air for a moment, and then pushed to the ground so that she sat of her knees. She heard whispering among the men, two of whom were now each pulling an arm out from her, as if she were being crucified. While her arms were being held steady, another pair of hands gripped her by the head, forcing her face up in the air. She so had a trio of large, muscular men keeping her locked to the ground and almost completely still. A fourth man stood in front of her with his hands on his knees, gazing into her eyes, grinning.
"There are two parts to the main event," the man said. "Want to guess what they are?"
Erin didn't want to play along, and the intense pain meant that she couldn't even if she had wanted to. Her face seemed frozen; she had lost her tongue. She tried to do something, to spit in the man's face, but it only came out as another round of hacking coughs. The man gripping her head tried to hold her jaw shut against the expulsions. She could feel his body bracing against her back, his feet edging underneath her legs. There was no way out.
"Alright then, I'll tell you," the fourth man laughed. "The first part is where we unmask you."
In a moment, Erin's eyes emerged from their agonized daze, bright and shining.
The man laughed. "Don't like that idea much, do you? Good."
Erin tensed up. These men, these boys, these college students, these idiots-- they might not know who Erin Steele was. But they would surely have phones on them, and they would surely take pictures. It would take just seconds for those pictures to spread all over campus via social media. And there would be thousands of people who'd recognize Blue Lynx's secret identity. She tried to shake her head, but the strong fingers of her holder kept her skull immobile. How could she stop them?
"You're not going to like the second part much either."
The men all chuckled together. They had her here, the Blue Lynx, in this dark alleyway at night, with nobody coming to save her. Their collective grip on her seemed to tighten as the fourth man brought out his phone and pressed its touchscreen.
Erin's eyes widened even more. There was finally something cutting through the pain, something tying her to her current prediacament. Unfortunately, that thing was... This second part... Which was... Oh God...
"Let's just say we lost one fuck buddy tonight, and I'm not losing another."
The man held his phone up to Erin's face. "Smile, Blue Lynx."
He put his fingers on Blue Lynx's mask, and peeled.
On to Chapter Seven
or
On to Chapter Seven (Explicit Ending)
November 11th, 8:25 PM
The blustery night air whipped Erin's hair around her face. It was cold up here, on top of a four-story campus housing development, with the sun already set and much of her skin exposed, but the Blue Lynx, with her gloved hands perched on her belted hips, gazing out onto the dazzling cityscape, barely thought about that. Her body was hot with expectation, with the sense that the night promised the thrills that a girl could only experience as a superheroine. But it was hot in another way, too, an uncomfortable way that made her spandex outfit feel clammy and brought beads of sweat to her brow.
She coughed. "Ugh," she thought. "Maybe I should've had some of Margot's stew."
Whatever. It didn't matter. As soon as adrenaline kicked in, Erin knew she'd stop feeling so ill. Once she was in the middle of things-- sneaking around, kicking ass, discovering hideouts, the works-- she might as well be in another world.
So where was the crime?
Erin had been searching around, moving from post to post, leaping from building for building, for at least an hour. But she hadn't caught wind of a single infraction. Typically, weekends around campus were goldmines for basic superheroine action. But tonight, she'd hadn't even seen a jaywalker. It was strange.
"Maybe they get it," Erin mused. "Maybe they've figured out that if they want to do evil, they have to reckon with the Blue Lynx."
Suddenly, a shriek. Erin turned her ear toward the direction of the sound. Silence.
She ran toward the edge of the complex and, in a single titanic movement, vaulted off its ledge, springing through the night air and landing yards away on another rooftop. She poked her ear out again, trying to pick up any other noises.
She heard something. A peep. Scuffling sounds.
She ran to the far edge of the new building and peered over. There, in the dark of an alley, she could see them. Human figures. Four large ones and one smaller one. Two of the bigger bodies seeming to grip the smaller body, from which the peeping sounds continued. The other two large bodies looked onto the scene, mostly motionless, but clearly gearing up for something.
"I've seen this before," Erin thought. "I've got to hurry."
She located a ladder on the roof and quickly shimmied down. The ladder ended at a second story balcony, from which Erin leapt into an open, mostly full dumpster. The garbage cushioned her landing, and she jumped from the receptacle to the ground with a minimum of wasted movement. She pressed herself against brick wall bordering the alley and spied around the corner.
The alley was filthy, mostly empty, far away from the main streets of campus. Twenty yards from the cornered where Erin looked, there were two young men, probably college students, holding up a struggling young woman by her arms. Two additional young men looked on with broad, menacing smiles. None of the men appeared to be armed, but they were all of decent height and build. They could've been athletes, maybe just obsessive weight lifters. The two holders gripped the woman, a fraction of their size, so that she could only kick her legs around wildly.
"I could take them out one-by-one," Erin thought. "But where's the fun in that?"
She walked from behind the corner and stood at the entrance of the alley, her hands on her hips. She whistled. All four men turned around to look at her.
"Hello boys."
One of the men gripping the woman spoke up. "It's the Blue Cat... Lady!"
Erin shook her head, taking calm, slow steps toward the group. "Blue Lynx," she said.
"Get out of here, bitch," one of the witnesses yelled. "This isn't your place."
Erin smiled. "Wrong. This is exactly my place. Taking out garbage like you. Now let--"
Erin erupted into a series of coughs. She brought her glove to her mouth, trying to stifle the sounds. "Not now," she thought. "Not right now."
A few of the men giggled. "You feeling okay, Blue Lynx?"
Erin got a hold of her coughing and tried to stand as straight as she could. "Let her go," she said.
There was more laughter. And then, the other man gripping the woman spoke up. "I don't think so, babe. I think she's staying with us tonight. But there's no reason why she should be alone."
Another voice. "Yeah. We could probably get something going, Blue Lynx. A threesome."
Erin scoffed. "I'll pass."
"That wasn't a request, superheroine," the first man gripping the woman said. "It was a demand." He gestured with his chin at the two free men. "Get her."
The two bystanders rushed passed the struggling young woman and toward Erin, their arms swinging through the air, looks of ugly animal lust on their faces. They always ran toward her, like moths to the flame. She could work with this, especially in this cramped alley. She could use their weight against them, have them bouncing off the walls in seconds,
"Silly boys," Erin said, striking a fighting pose.
The first man arrived, taking a big swing at Erin's face. Erin ducked the punch and sank her elbow into the man's stomach, pushing her body into his, and forcing him against the wall of the alley. He hit the wall hard, and his arms raised up in pain as he slumped toward the ground. Erin swiftly turned around to face the second man, who was winding up a punch of his own. Erin countered with a sudden jab to his chin. The speedy hit knocked the man's head back, and Erin used the moment to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick to his upper body. The kick sent him back against the other wall, so that the two men now sat on the ground, plastered to opposite walls and facing each other, their bodies flushed with surprise and pain.
"Shit!" one of the holding men yelled. "We gotta get out of here!"
"No you idiot!" the other screamed. "We gotta get her!"
He dropped his hold on the young woman, who fell to her knees before quickly getting up and scrambling away. Erin eyed the scene from afar, still primarily occupied with the first two men, both of whom were getting to their feet. She kicked the first one back into the wall, then spun around to face the second. And she pulled her arm back to punch...
And was gripped by incredible pain. It started in her stomach-- he brought her hands immediately to her abdomen, wincing-- and then surged into her upper body and arms. Aching pain, all over her body, and sharp twinges of pure agony at isolated points. Her legs buckled, and seconds later he knees were on the damp, dirty pavement, her head bowed, her body drawn up into a tight blue ball.
"What?" she thought. "What's... (she had to struggle to think through the pain)... happening?"
She could sense that the second man was up on his feet, and that he was now looming over her, probably wondering what the hell was going on, too. She heard the clopping of the other men's feet stop just a few yards away from her down the alley. They too were looking on in amazement.
Erin gripped her stomach with her gloves, trying to extract the pain from her insides with tense, scrabbling fingers. But waves of torment flooded through her system, making her muscles throb, tightening her face into a rictus of confusion and discomfort. She began to cough, and then coughed again and again, her head shaking with each explosive hack. What the men planned to do was now irrelevant to her weakened mind and body. All she could concentrate on was her pain.
"Is this... a trick?" one of the men said.
"Only one way to find out."
One of men dashed over to Erin. Before she could react, or even think about reacting, the man's shoe had been lifted up and into her face. The kick took her out of her crouched position and onto her back, where she groaned in pain and shook her extremities weakly.
"Oh..." she said. "Oh..."
They were attacking her again. They would kill her if she didn't get up. But--
More pain flared up, in her legs, in her neck, in her head. She couldn't get up. She could barely breathe. If she could reach something in her belt-- a Lynx dart-- she could maybe fend off a few of the men and escape. She brought a glove to a belt pocket with halting, obvious movements. She had unbuttoned the flap when she felt a man's hand grip her wrist.
"Not so fast, Blue Lynx."
The man pulled her arm up from her body, yanking Erin up to her feet. She could barely stand-- her toes pointed in at each other, and her knees shook-- and if hadn't been for the man's hand, raising her arm up high above her head, she would have just as easily fallen back to the wet, black concrete. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth half open. She could hear small snickers, and one voice cutting through the darkness.
"Take the belt off."
A man's rough fingers patted their way around her waist, looking for her belt buckle. They eventually found their target in the snap against Erin's lower back. Erin heard a "click," and then felt a weight lifted off her hips. The pain blurred out everything, so that she barely knew what it meant to have her belt taken from her. She barely cared when she felt the rough fingers again, this time in the form of soft but firm slaps on her ass. There were more voices.
"A girl like you shouldn't go around with weapons like these. Too dangerous."
A shaking sound, and then the sound of her tools-- the darts, the bombs, the rope, her phone-- shaking in their pockets in a clinking echo.
"A girl like you-- with an ass like that"-- she felt the slapping hand spread its fingers, grip her buttock, and pinch-- "Should be with us."
She tried to look ahead through the red, torturous waves that had rendered her helpless. Squinting and wincing, she could see the outlines of man holding her up by the arm. He was one of the bystanders from before. Tall. White. Crew cut. Flecks of acne. She could beat him, easily, if not for this incredible agony. She tried to say so.
"You... You won't..."
Speaking required too much effort. She hesitated, coughed, then stopped completely, and then heard the men laugh together.
"Can I rough her up a little bit before, you know?"
More laughter. "Sure Jimmy. I guess you're looking for a little payback after she kicked your ass a minute ago."
Erin heard a grunt, and then felt the grip on her wrist relax. She fell backward into the arms of another man, who immediately pulled her in close. She felt his biceps crushing her upper body, and could sense his hands wandering up from her stomach toward her chest. She tried to kick out of the bearhug, but even at full strength, she would've had trouble with this massive frame. And she was about as far from full strength as she had even been.
Suddenly, she felt movement. Her boots her clattering along the ground. The man was dragging her, rushing her along the alleyway. She couldn't see ahead; she couldn't see anything except the outline of the man's arms. "Off you go!" the man bellowed, and Erin abruptly felt his arms drop. She was spinning, flying, tumbling through the air. She was weightless. And then she slammed against a group of trash cans, crushing one of them from the side, blowing the lids off, throwing trash into the alleyway.
She could see the stars now. Stars and the parallel bars that were the blue-black buildings rising four stories up above her. It would have been peaceful but for the metal and garbage that had been piled beneath, on, and around Erin's body. It would have been peaceful but for the fact that every part of her ached.
Her head lay on the ground, and she could feel her hair being soaked in a puddle. "I must... escape," she thought. "But I can't even move." She had to do something. She could launch her grapple hook up to the roof. "Yes. The hook!" And then she remembered that the hook was in her belt. And she remembered that her belt was in the slimy hands of one of her attackers.
Before she could think of any more plans, she was being wrenched to her feet again, this time by both wrists. The rough hands dropped her gloves, and her arms swung lazily to her sides, until a heavy blow to the stomach had her doubled over, her arms around her abdomen once more.
"Bitch!" a voice croaked. "How do you like it?"
A quick shove to her shoulders pushed over back, and she waved her arms wildly as she lost her balance, finally toppling over onto the heap of trash and busted trash cans. She seemed to rest on a toppled throne, her arms and legs drooped nonchalantly over piles of black garbage. She coughed multiple times, each hack sending ripples through her torso.
"I'm not done with you," the same voice said. A hand now snatched the angle of blue spandex that formed a "V" near the cleavage of Erin's breasts. The hand pulled the fabric back so that it first separated from Erin's chest, and then pulled Erin herself up and off of the garbage, so that she now sat awkwardly between the ground and the man, hanging in the air on a several inch line of stretchy blue spandex.
This moment continued a while longer, and Erin assumed it was because the man was looking inside her top, was ogling her ample breasts hemmed in by a sexy black bra with light pink polka dots. "I've got to get... a sports bra..." Erin thought.
The man giggled, and then, still holding Erin by the edge of her outfit, pushed her toward toward the ground and released, so that she sprang back-and-forth like a wet blue superheroine yo-yo. The giggles grew into hearty guffaws as Blue Lynx bounced around helplessly, completely in the grip of pain.
"Alright, that's enough," another voice said. "You've had your fun."
Erin felt the spandex snap back against her chest as she plunged down into the garbage heap. She coughed, winced, moaned and groaned. It couldn't end here, could it? It couldn't really end like this. Why was she so weak?
"Let's get the main event going."
Hands grabbed her again, pairs of hands lifting her by her biceps. She was in the air for a moment, and then pushed to the ground so that she sat of her knees. She heard whispering among the men, two of whom were now each pulling an arm out from her, as if she were being crucified. While her arms were being held steady, another pair of hands gripped her by the head, forcing her face up in the air. She so had a trio of large, muscular men keeping her locked to the ground and almost completely still. A fourth man stood in front of her with his hands on his knees, gazing into her eyes, grinning.
"There are two parts to the main event," the man said. "Want to guess what they are?"
Erin didn't want to play along, and the intense pain meant that she couldn't even if she had wanted to. Her face seemed frozen; she had lost her tongue. She tried to do something, to spit in the man's face, but it only came out as another round of hacking coughs. The man gripping her head tried to hold her jaw shut against the expulsions. She could feel his body bracing against her back, his feet edging underneath her legs. There was no way out.
"Alright then, I'll tell you," the fourth man laughed. "The first part is where we unmask you."
In a moment, Erin's eyes emerged from their agonized daze, bright and shining.
The man laughed. "Don't like that idea much, do you? Good."
Erin tensed up. These men, these boys, these college students, these idiots-- they might not know who Erin Steele was. But they would surely have phones on them, and they would surely take pictures. It would take just seconds for those pictures to spread all over campus via social media. And there would be thousands of people who'd recognize Blue Lynx's secret identity. She tried to shake her head, but the strong fingers of her holder kept her skull immobile. How could she stop them?
"You're not going to like the second part much either."
The men all chuckled together. They had her here, the Blue Lynx, in this dark alleyway at night, with nobody coming to save her. Their collective grip on her seemed to tighten as the fourth man brought out his phone and pressed its touchscreen.
Erin's eyes widened even more. There was finally something cutting through the pain, something tying her to her current prediacament. Unfortunately, that thing was... This second part... Which was... Oh God...
"Let's just say we lost one fuck buddy tonight, and I'm not losing another."
The man held his phone up to Erin's face. "Smile, Blue Lynx."
He put his fingers on Blue Lynx's mask, and peeled.
On to Chapter Seven
or
On to Chapter Seven (Explicit Ending)
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
November 11th, 8:42 PM
Margot raced from behind the corner to see it all: the dark alleyway covered in grime and trash; the white utility belt lying inert on the pavement; the three big men holding Erin to the ground, clenching her arms and head; the fourth big man squatting down with one hand on Blue Lynx's mask, the other on his phone, which was cocked menacingly at Erin's clearly distressed, clearly pained face.
"Hey!" Margot shouted. "You idiots!"
The fourth man let the mask fall back onto Erin's skin. He and the other three turned in Margot's direction. They saw a young, demure looking woman with reddish-brown hair wearing a black costume cut very similarly to Blue Lynx's, with a black mask (curiously ringed with large eye holes) and purple utility belt to boot. They saw her unbutton a flap on her belt and pull a small pellet out with purple latex gloves.
"Who the?--"
"Take this!" Margot screamed, chucking the pellet at the four men. There was a small explosion followed by huge plumes of smoke. Coughing, swearing, and a mad waving of arms ensued, and Margot dashed into the clouds fumbling at her belt, looking for Lynx darts to stick to the baddies. She found one, and quickly found a man's neck to stick it in. There was a shrill cry, and then the sound of a large body hitting the ground. Margot heard more coughing, and underneath, the smaller, feminine coughs of Erin. Margot found her friend and crouched down, trying to pull Erin up by the arms.
"Come on, Blue Lynx," Margot said. "We gotta get out of here!"
A man suddenly ran out of the smoke at Margot. Margot squeaked, but was able to sidestep the advance. She then plunged her ready Lynx dart into the attacker's back. He howled out, and then, he too fell to the ground.
"Margot, what?" Erin whispered. "What is this?"
"Let's go!" Margot implored. She gripped Erin by the glove and pulled her away from the center of the smoke bomb. They had moved several yards when there was a startling pull in the other direction, one dragging Margot backward a few feet. She looked behind to see one of the men grabbing Erin by the waist, hoping to yank her struggling body back into the smoke.
"Not done with you yet, babe!" the man shouted. Erin whimpered as his hands pushed up into the underside of her chest, dragging her backward.
"No!" Margot yelled. She pulled out a Lynx dart and hurled it toward the man. The dart whizzed past Blue Lynx's face and struck the man in the forehead. With a terrifyingly loud yowl, the man released Erin and fell back into the smoke. Margot once again grabbed Erin by the glove.
"My car is just a few blocks from here! But we've gotta move!"
Margot ran along, practically hauling Erin's limp, weakened body along with her, Blue Lynx's boots clunking along the ground with leaden steps. She saw Erin's white utility belt and swiftly scooped it up. The girls rounded the corner into another alley, then took a right into another alley, and then followed that alley back to a parking lot uninhabited but for a familiar vehicle.
Margot opened up her passenger side door and plopped Erin into the seat. She sat there, almost unconscious, coughing, almost oozing off of the chair onto the floor. Margot stepped around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. She stuck the keys into the ignition.
"Margot... Your costume..." Erin muttered.
Margot started the car. "Call me the Black Bobcat."
Erin tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. Margot shifted the vehicle into drive and sped off into the night, leaving at least three fraternity brothers moaning and groaning, waving their hands around clumsily through still puffy plumes of smoke.
On to Chapter Eight
November 11th, 8:42 PM
Margot raced from behind the corner to see it all: the dark alleyway covered in grime and trash; the white utility belt lying inert on the pavement; the three big men holding Erin to the ground, clenching her arms and head; the fourth big man squatting down with one hand on Blue Lynx's mask, the other on his phone, which was cocked menacingly at Erin's clearly distressed, clearly pained face.
"Hey!" Margot shouted. "You idiots!"
The fourth man let the mask fall back onto Erin's skin. He and the other three turned in Margot's direction. They saw a young, demure looking woman with reddish-brown hair wearing a black costume cut very similarly to Blue Lynx's, with a black mask (curiously ringed with large eye holes) and purple utility belt to boot. They saw her unbutton a flap on her belt and pull a small pellet out with purple latex gloves.
"Who the?--"
"Take this!" Margot screamed, chucking the pellet at the four men. There was a small explosion followed by huge plumes of smoke. Coughing, swearing, and a mad waving of arms ensued, and Margot dashed into the clouds fumbling at her belt, looking for Lynx darts to stick to the baddies. She found one, and quickly found a man's neck to stick it in. There was a shrill cry, and then the sound of a large body hitting the ground. Margot heard more coughing, and underneath, the smaller, feminine coughs of Erin. Margot found her friend and crouched down, trying to pull Erin up by the arms.
"Come on, Blue Lynx," Margot said. "We gotta get out of here!"
A man suddenly ran out of the smoke at Margot. Margot squeaked, but was able to sidestep the advance. She then plunged her ready Lynx dart into the attacker's back. He howled out, and then, he too fell to the ground.
"Margot, what?" Erin whispered. "What is this?"
"Let's go!" Margot implored. She gripped Erin by the glove and pulled her away from the center of the smoke bomb. They had moved several yards when there was a startling pull in the other direction, one dragging Margot backward a few feet. She looked behind to see one of the men grabbing Erin by the waist, hoping to yank her struggling body back into the smoke.
"Not done with you yet, babe!" the man shouted. Erin whimpered as his hands pushed up into the underside of her chest, dragging her backward.
"No!" Margot yelled. She pulled out a Lynx dart and hurled it toward the man. The dart whizzed past Blue Lynx's face and struck the man in the forehead. With a terrifyingly loud yowl, the man released Erin and fell back into the smoke. Margot once again grabbed Erin by the glove.
"My car is just a few blocks from here! But we've gotta move!"
Margot ran along, practically hauling Erin's limp, weakened body along with her, Blue Lynx's boots clunking along the ground with leaden steps. She saw Erin's white utility belt and swiftly scooped it up. The girls rounded the corner into another alley, then took a right into another alley, and then followed that alley back to a parking lot uninhabited but for a familiar vehicle.
Margot opened up her passenger side door and plopped Erin into the seat. She sat there, almost unconscious, coughing, almost oozing off of the chair onto the floor. Margot stepped around the car and climbed into the driver's seat. She stuck the keys into the ignition.
"Margot... Your costume..." Erin muttered.
Margot started the car. "Call me the Black Bobcat."
Erin tried to laugh, but it came out as a cough. Margot shifted the vehicle into drive and sped off into the night, leaving at least three fraternity brothers moaning and groaning, waving their hands around clumsily through still puffy plumes of smoke.
On to Chapter Eight
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
November 12th, 1:25 PM
Rapid coughs woke Erin up. Rapid coughs, pain, a splitting headache, pain, throbs in her arms and legs, pain. A whole body throttling that went way beyond the flu.
She opened her eyes and sat up. She was lying on her apartment couch with a couple of blankets covering her body, naked but for last night's polka dot lingerie. On a heap on th floor was her blue spandex, white boots and gloves, mask, and utility belt. On the table in front of her was a tall glass of water.
She ran her fingers through her hair, which felt dirty and wet. She hadn't taken a shower since the alley ambush. She smelled a little. But all that was secondary next to the pain. She placed her hand on her forehead and breathed in and out, trying to center herself.
"How are you feeling?" said a small, calm, pleasant voice: Margot's voice. Erin saw her in the kitchen in her pajamas, fiddling over the stove.
"Like shit," Erin coughed. She laid her head back against the pillow and pulled the blankets up to her neck. "I am so, so sick."
"You're more than that," Margot said, scooping some eggs from a pan onto a plate. "You've been poisoned."
Erin looked at Margot. "What?"
Margot brought the plate of eggs over to Erin and set it down on the coffee table. "Eat those. And drink lots of fluids."
Erin sat up. "I've been poisoned?"
"I think so," Margot nodded, pulling up a chair next to the couch. "It looks bad, Erin."
Erin gulped. "Well, it feels worse." She tried to sit up on the couch to eat her eggs. The effort made her wince, bringing her back to a laying position.
"It was that doctor, Gregory Todd. Or as his friends like to call him, Grigory Todorov," Margot said.
Erin shook her head. "That injection."
Margot nodded. "Yes."
Erin thought about making a point, a sort of "I told you so." But she couldn't make Margot feel bad. Not after what she did last night. If Margot had been just a minute late, it would have meant the exposure Blue Lynx's secret identity. And if she hadn't come at all, it could have meant things far, far worse. So she just sighed sadly, and brought the glass of water to her lips.
"I'm so, so sorry, Erin," Margot said. "After you left yesterday, I started doing research. This guy, Todorov, he was stripped of his license years ago. No one really knows what happened to him since then. But I saw old pictures of him when he was actually working. Pictures of him with Brent Hammerson."
Erin stared at Margot. "Oh shit."
"Yep," Margot said. "I called Evelyn last night, too. And she said she'd never heard of the guy, had never seen him before."
"It was a trap," Erin said, with a harsh cough.
Margot nodded. "Somehow, Hammerson got wind of our project. And he got his favorite doctor to inject you with some kind of poison."
"That's why I was so weak last night," Erin said. "I've never been in so much pain."
"I know," Margot said. "As soon as I started reading about this doctor, I knew I had to come get you. I knew you'd be in trouble. So I tracked you down with your phone tracker."
"And you fought off four men," Erin said, with a weak smile. "You're a true sidekick."
Margot blushed and looked away from Erin. "Yeah, I figured it would be a good time to try on the costume I've been working on."
"Margot, you saved my life," Erin said. "How many times is that, now?"
Margot shrugged. "I don't know, Erin. But you never would've got there if I hadn't make you do that stupid PSA. It was careless." Her face reddened. "I'm just so, so sorry."
"It's okay, Margot," Erin said, placing a shivering hand on her friend's knee. Margot seemed on the verge of tears now. Erin felt deeply for her brave, loyal partner. She'd made a mistake, and it had put Erin in danger. But Margot had no way of knowing about the doctor in advance. Every other time Erin needed information, Margot had it, no questions asked. Erin smiled.
"It's okay, seriously," she said.
Margot sniffed. "I'm going to make it right."
"No, don't worry about it," Erin said.
"I'm going to find Todorov. And I'm going to get a cure for the poison."
Erin coughed and brought her hands to her chest. "No, Margot."
Margot stood up. "I know where he lives, Erin. I'm going to find him and make him pay."
"Margot, you can't," Erin said, her voice interrupted by coughs. "Stay here. We'll find him when I get better, I promise."
"I have to do this on my own," Margot said. "And you have to rest."
Margot pulled a pill from her pocket and brought it near Erin's face.
"This will help you sleep, Erin. Open wide."
"Margot! Don't!" Erin cried. But it wasn't difficult for Margot to pull away Erin's weakened arms and pry open her jaws. Erin felt the pill on her tongue, and then cold water rushing the tablet down her throat. She swallowed and coughed, looking at Margot in shock.
"Margot..." Erin mumbled, pointing her finger at her friend's face. "You..."
Her hand fell to her blanket with a soft thud. Her neck went slack, and her head turned slightly into her pillow. Her eyes closed. And then, after just fifteen seconds, Erin was snoring peacefully, completely unaware that Margot was leaving her, duffel bag in hand, the costume of the Black Bobcat tucked carefully within.
On to Chapter Nine
November 12th, 1:25 PM
Rapid coughs woke Erin up. Rapid coughs, pain, a splitting headache, pain, throbs in her arms and legs, pain. A whole body throttling that went way beyond the flu.
She opened her eyes and sat up. She was lying on her apartment couch with a couple of blankets covering her body, naked but for last night's polka dot lingerie. On a heap on th floor was her blue spandex, white boots and gloves, mask, and utility belt. On the table in front of her was a tall glass of water.
She ran her fingers through her hair, which felt dirty and wet. She hadn't taken a shower since the alley ambush. She smelled a little. But all that was secondary next to the pain. She placed her hand on her forehead and breathed in and out, trying to center herself.
"How are you feeling?" said a small, calm, pleasant voice: Margot's voice. Erin saw her in the kitchen in her pajamas, fiddling over the stove.
"Like shit," Erin coughed. She laid her head back against the pillow and pulled the blankets up to her neck. "I am so, so sick."
"You're more than that," Margot said, scooping some eggs from a pan onto a plate. "You've been poisoned."
Erin looked at Margot. "What?"
Margot brought the plate of eggs over to Erin and set it down on the coffee table. "Eat those. And drink lots of fluids."
Erin sat up. "I've been poisoned?"
"I think so," Margot nodded, pulling up a chair next to the couch. "It looks bad, Erin."
Erin gulped. "Well, it feels worse." She tried to sit up on the couch to eat her eggs. The effort made her wince, bringing her back to a laying position.
"It was that doctor, Gregory Todd. Or as his friends like to call him, Grigory Todorov," Margot said.
Erin shook her head. "That injection."
Margot nodded. "Yes."
Erin thought about making a point, a sort of "I told you so." But she couldn't make Margot feel bad. Not after what she did last night. If Margot had been just a minute late, it would have meant the exposure Blue Lynx's secret identity. And if she hadn't come at all, it could have meant things far, far worse. So she just sighed sadly, and brought the glass of water to her lips.
"I'm so, so sorry, Erin," Margot said. "After you left yesterday, I started doing research. This guy, Todorov, he was stripped of his license years ago. No one really knows what happened to him since then. But I saw old pictures of him when he was actually working. Pictures of him with Brent Hammerson."
Erin stared at Margot. "Oh shit."
"Yep," Margot said. "I called Evelyn last night, too. And she said she'd never heard of the guy, had never seen him before."
"It was a trap," Erin said, with a harsh cough.
Margot nodded. "Somehow, Hammerson got wind of our project. And he got his favorite doctor to inject you with some kind of poison."
"That's why I was so weak last night," Erin said. "I've never been in so much pain."
"I know," Margot said. "As soon as I started reading about this doctor, I knew I had to come get you. I knew you'd be in trouble. So I tracked you down with your phone tracker."
"And you fought off four men," Erin said, with a weak smile. "You're a true sidekick."
Margot blushed and looked away from Erin. "Yeah, I figured it would be a good time to try on the costume I've been working on."
"Margot, you saved my life," Erin said. "How many times is that, now?"
Margot shrugged. "I don't know, Erin. But you never would've got there if I hadn't make you do that stupid PSA. It was careless." Her face reddened. "I'm just so, so sorry."
"It's okay, Margot," Erin said, placing a shivering hand on her friend's knee. Margot seemed on the verge of tears now. Erin felt deeply for her brave, loyal partner. She'd made a mistake, and it had put Erin in danger. But Margot had no way of knowing about the doctor in advance. Every other time Erin needed information, Margot had it, no questions asked. Erin smiled.
"It's okay, seriously," she said.
Margot sniffed. "I'm going to make it right."
"No, don't worry about it," Erin said.
"I'm going to find Todorov. And I'm going to get a cure for the poison."
Erin coughed and brought her hands to her chest. "No, Margot."
Margot stood up. "I know where he lives, Erin. I'm going to find him and make him pay."
"Margot, you can't," Erin said, her voice interrupted by coughs. "Stay here. We'll find him when I get better, I promise."
"I have to do this on my own," Margot said. "And you have to rest."
Margot pulled a pill from her pocket and brought it near Erin's face.
"This will help you sleep, Erin. Open wide."
"Margot! Don't!" Erin cried. But it wasn't difficult for Margot to pull away Erin's weakened arms and pry open her jaws. Erin felt the pill on her tongue, and then cold water rushing the tablet down her throat. She swallowed and coughed, looking at Margot in shock.
"Margot..." Erin mumbled, pointing her finger at her friend's face. "You..."
Her hand fell to her blanket with a soft thud. Her neck went slack, and her head turned slightly into her pillow. Her eyes closed. And then, after just fifteen seconds, Erin was snoring peacefully, completely unaware that Margot was leaving her, duffel bag in hand, the costume of the Black Bobcat tucked carefully within.
On to Chapter Nine
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
November 12th, 7:30 PM
November 12th, 7:30 PM
Dr. Todorov lived out in the suburbs, in a house that was in no way distinctive from those surrounding it. Medium-sized, with a medium-sized yard full of trees, a garage facing the street, a couple windows, none lit. Just another simple, two-story stuccoed thing in a line of simple, two-story stuccoed things. A boring house for a man who was anything but.
Margot stared at the house from her car, which she had parked across the street in between a pair of SUVs. She hated the suburbs, and she wouldn’t have gone out here if she didn’t have a good reason. Tonight, she had one: Todorov had poisoned Erin. Margot needed to find a cure, and she needed to get some payback. She needed to atone for getting Erin into so much trouble.
The question was: How? She couldn’t just knock on the door. She had to sneak in some how and get the drop on her prey. But she didn’t have any kind of experience doing that, not like Erin.
“Wait,” Margot thought. “I do have experience.” She had rescued Erin from those hillbillies, hadn’t she? She had snuck around and taken two men out. And just last night, she had done it again. She couldn’t fight like Erin, that was true. But with the element of surprise on her side, she could be a force. “You are a force,” she told herself. “You are the Black Bobcat.”
She strapped her mask to her face. She had been tailoring the outfit in secret for the past couple of weeks. If she was going to be Erin’s tech support, then why not also be her sidekick? There had been several months in the past few months where she had been captured, too. Keeping her identity secret now seemed just as important as keeping Erin’s, even if people weren’t likely to recognize Margot’s face the way they might recognize the Mayor’s daughter’s.
She liked the name, too. “The Black Bobcat.” It was a perfect match for the Blue Lynx. She liked her the name, and the color: she liked how she looked in black, liked the purple accents. She loved how her outfit hugged her curves, made her hips and chest and legs really pop. She didn’t have Erin’s athletic build, but she was sexy in her own way, and she knew it.
“Don’t get too cocky,” she reminded herself. “This is incredibly dangerous.” She had never done anything like this on her own before. If she got into trouble, there’d be no one to help her: Erin was probably still unconscious. Still, it all felt less like danger and more like adventure when she was wearing a sexy mask and costume.
She stepped out of her car, shut the door, and hid behind the SUV. She had decided to head in through the back. There had to be a door there that she could jimmy into, or maybe an open window she could crawl through. She ran across the street, her heart thumping, and jumped behind one of the many trees in Todorov’s front yard. She peeked from behind the tree at the front porch. A rocking chair, a window, the door. No light from the house. Which was somewhat odd. The sun had set, but it wasn’t late. Margot had been sitting in her car, observing for hours. She had seen him come home, seen the car park in the garage, knew that he was still in there.
“Unless he left through the back?” Margot thought. “Who knows?”
She had to press on, regardless. She sprinted from tree to tree, then from the closest tree to the backyard fence. The fence was about six feet tall, made of spiked wooden slats, and it took Margot a minute to find a way over it. She scrabbled up one side, awkwardly put her legs over to the other side, one-at-a-time, and then slid down into the backyard, hitting the grass in a somewhat stealthy crouch.
She was already breathing heavily. “Come on, Black Bobcat,” she thought. “You can do this.”
The backyard was large and mostly empty, a large expanse of grass contained by a towering rectangle of wooden fence. In the corner furthest from her, she saw a small shed with a pointed roof.
“Probably where he conducts his mad experiments,” Margot thought.
She could see a semi-circle of light on the simple patio near the back of the house. Margot stepped toward it, trying to peek into the glass-pane door from where it emerged, and stopped when she heard a small popping sound. She pressed her body against the outer wall of house, her heart racing in her chest.
“Oh God,” she thought. “What the hell…”
The sound stopped. After taking a minute to collect herself, Margot continued moving slowly along the wall. She could now stick her foot into the aura of light if she wanted (she didn’t). She turned her face to look in through the window, sticking her head just inches past the solid brick.
Inside, there was a brown couch, an ugly rug, a TV illuminating the whole scene with colorful streaks of light. A normal family room, except that a small, bizarre-looking man with an almond-shaped head was sitting on the couch, giggling, a bowl of popcorn sitting to his left.
Todorov.
He looked even more tiny and more pathetic than he was in the pictures Margot had scrolled through online. Wimpy glasses, wimpy brown mustache, crooked smile with missing teeth. He probably weighed less than she did. Margot's blood boiled as she watched him crack up. This little twerp was the guy who poisoned Blue Lynx? It didn't seem right.
"He's going down," Margot thought. And with that, she pulled open the glass-pane door and stepped into Todorov's family room.
"Todorov," she intoned in her best superheroine voice. "You poisoned the Blue Lynx. Where's the antidote?"
Todorov glanced lazily from the television to Margot. He scanned her up and down, tiny eyes darting through his thick lenses, and finally smiled a patient, toothless smile. He picked up the remote and turned the TV off.
"Well?" Margot asked. "Tell me where the antidote is. Or I'll make you tell me." She stamped her black boot on the wooden floor for emphasis.
"Who are you?" Todorov asked, in an almost disinterested way. He was still eating popcorn as he eyed Margot.
"I'm the Black Bobcat," Margot said.
"Oh," Todorov said, a mocking tone in his voice. "So you're Blue Lynx's partner, huh? The boss told me she had a partner."
"Hammerson told you that, did he?" Margot said, crossing her arms.
Todorov's glasses flashed, and he smirked. "Clever girl."
As inconspicuously as she could, Margot looked around the room. It was curiously undecorated: not a single painting on the plain white walls. Aside from the couch, rug, and TV set, there was just a bookcase in the corner, its shelves sagging with the weight of heavy, ominous-looking medical textbooks.
"There's no antidote," Todorov said, sleepily.
Margot blinked. She locked eyes with Todorov and frowned. "What?" she asked.
"I didn't make an antidote," Todorov said. "The Blue Lynx will be dead in a matter of days."
"That's not true!" Margot yelled, baring her teeth.
Todorov smiled. He still hadn't stop crunching popcorn. "I know what I'm doing, honey. When the boss asks me to go somewhere and do a job, I do it right. My former employers could never appreciate that."
Margot's thoughts were spinning in her head, branching out in wild directions. There had to be an antidote! There just had to be! They always make one.
Todorov picked up the final piece of popcorn with his hairy, bony fingers. "I imagine it was you who set up that PSA. Good work." He placed the kernel on his tongue and chewed with smacking, scornful sounds.
Margot had had enough. She stomped over to Todorov, picked up the popcorn bowl, and chucked it across the room at the bookcase. She then socked Todorov in the face with a cross that sent the doctor's head twisting on its skinny axis. When Todorov tried to look at Margot again, he received a second cross, this one twisting his head in the other direction.
"Ouch," Todorov said, bringing his hands to his face. He re-situated his shaken glasses, rubbing his cheeks and his nose. "What the hell was that for?"
Margot reached down and snatched Todorov by the front of his shirt. With her free hand, she pulled a Lynx dart from a belt pocket and brought the pointed end to Todorov's throat. She pressed the edge into Todorov's skin so that a tiny stream of blood trickled down his neck.
"Make an antidote," Margot growled. "Or I'll cut your throat."
Todorov made small, pathetic sounds as Margot pressed the dart a millimeter deeper into the doctor's skin. He cried out in fear.
"Stop!" he screamed. "Please stop!"
Margot now had her face just inches away from her opponent's. "Make an antidote."
"Okay, okay," Todorov said, feeling the point dig further into his neck, "I'll do it!"
Margot released Todorov's shirt and let him fall back to the couch. He wiped the blood off his neck and shirt with frantic, pained gestures. Margot looked at the frightened creature and sighed. This wasn't so hard after all.
"All my tools are in the shed," Todorov said, pointing out the glass door into the backyard. "You can follow me out there. You can watch me do it. Just don't hurt me again."
"Hurry up," Margot said, placing the bloodied Lynx dart back in her belt pocket. Todorov quickly got to his feet, and Margot gestured toward the door. "Move."
She followed the doctor's odd, limping gait as he proceeded out of the door. They walked across the backyard together, Margot with her hands near her belt in case he tried anything. The night was cool and crisp, the sky lit up with beautiful dots of celestial light. A great evening for crimefighting.
They arrived at the shed, a simple, wooden, 8 x 12 foot rectangle. Todorov hunched over a lock on the door and plugged in a four digit code. The lock beeped, and Todorov opened the door. He flicked on a light and beckoned Margot inside.
"This will take ten minutes or so," he mumbled. "Make yourself comfortable."
There wasn't any place to do that. There wasn't a single chair in the shed, just a long white table running across the shed's length, a table covered with beakers, test tubes, vials, clipboards: the tools of an amateur chemist. On the other side of the room was a small desk with a computer, plus a rack full of garden implements. Minimal, austere, almost threatening stuff. The light wasn't exactly welcoming: a single fluorescent length ran four feet across the shed's ceiling, filling every cranny of the room with harsh whiteness.
"This is where you do your experiments," Margot mused.
Todorov had his back facing her, with his hands working along the table, pulling materials this way and that, but she could see him nod. "Yes," he responded.
"This is where you invented that poison that you gave to the Blue Lynx."
Another nod. "I work from home now."
Margot tapped her toe. "And Hammerson pays you." She was enjoying this, this slow interrogation process. She had the doctor in her clutches, and there was no way out. She almost started laughing.
"Yes, quite well," Todorov said.
"Is it really worth it?" Margot asked. "You almost killed my friend. That's wrong."
Todorov nodded. "I know. I don't think about things."
Margot placed her hands on the long table and tried to look into Todorov's eyes. "Don't think about things? I'll say. How many times have you done this, poisoned people for Hammerson?"
Todorov shrugged. "I don't know."
"You could put your talents to good use, you know," Margot said. "You seem like a smart guy. Why don't you try to help people?"
"I did, once upon a time," Todorov said. He was sticking a syringe into a larger vial, extracting a blue liquid.
"Well, why don't you start again, tonight?" Margot said. "Save the Blue Lynx. And then save other people."
Todorov smiled. "You mean... You won't turn me in?"
Margot shook her head. "I won't. Not if you pledge to do better." This felt so good.
"Well, I pledge to do better, then!" Todorov exclaimed. He was fumbling with beakers, moving the syringe back in forth between his hands.
"Great!" Margot cried out. Had she really done it? Had her pep talk convinced Todorov to give up crime? It seemed to good to be true. Had Erin ever tried this tactic before? She remembered her task. "How's the antidote coming?"
"Good," Todorov said. "Could you do me a favor though? Turn around and get that, uh, rake from the rack. I need it real quick."
Margot shrugged. "Okay," she said, turning around to inspect the other wall.
Suddenly, there was a small, sharp twinge in her buttock. She yelped, and then spun around to see Todorov holding an empty syringe in his hand. A dark, evil smile danced across his face.
"What?" Margot said. "What was that?"
"Just a little shot to the butt to placate you, honey," Todorov giggled. "You looked like you were getting restless."
Instantly, waves of fatigue coursed through Margot's body. She fell, first to one knee, and then to the other, finally placing her gloved hands on the ground in front of her. She crawled toward Todorov's shoes with slow, clumsy motion.
"No," she thought. "He... got me..."
Seeing an opportunity, Todorov brought his shoe up into Margot's defenseless stomach, flipping her from her knees and hands onto her back. Margot splayed out on the floor, breathing slowly, her face grimacing. The white light of the shed fuzzed out the edges of the long table and Todorov, who stood over her calmly, his dark, evil smile seeming to grow.
"Todorov," Margot whispered. "You bastard."
"You're not quite as smart as the Blue Lynx, are you?" Todorov crowed. "Not that she's exactly a Rhodes scholar."
Margot breathed in and out. She could feel each inhalation take longer, could hear the sound of each exhalation blot out her consciousness little by little. Her eyelids began to close. The room dimmed until it was pitch black, until only Todorov's voice remained.
"I'll let the boss know you stopped in," he said. "I'm sure he'd love to have a talk with... What was your name again? Oh yeah. The Black Bobcat."
Todorov's laughter grew to a fever pitch, and carried Margot horribly into unconsciousness.
On to Chapter Ten
On to Chapter Ten
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
November 12th, 9:05 PM
Margot felt her body shake. No, felt it being shook. There were hands on her shoulders. She could feel the icy cold skin. She felt cold up and down her body. So she opened her eyes.
The light was blinding. It was directly above her, a rectangular fixture on the ceiling. She recognized it. She had seen it inside that doctor's shed...
She was still in the shed. And the doctor was still there too. It was his hands that were on her shoulders. It was his face, his ugly mustache and tight glasses, that she saw against the intense glow of the light. It was his voice she now heard.
"You better wake up. The boss will be here soon."
Margot tried to pluck his the doctor's hands from her shoulders, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't move her hands at all, and when she looked down her body to see why, she saw coils of thin rope binding her wrists together. She also saw that she was wearing no clothes except for her matching lacy flesh-colored bra and panties and her plain white socks. She tried to stand, only to learn that her de-booted ankles had been bound, too. She tried to speak, but it only came out as "MMPH." A gag.
Margot squirmed, "mmphed," tried to thrash her bound legs around. She was laying on the floor of the shed, almost perfectly straight, so that she resembled a sort of tied-up awards statue. Todorov was standing above her, his shoes resting on either side of her waist. He was smiling, seeming to delight in his ropework. She was bound and gagged and without her superheroine outfit. She felt the bare skin of her back of her thighs prickle against the ground, and the bare skin of her chest burning within the harsh white light.
"You're probably wondering why I've divested you of your clothes," Todorov said. "And why I've divested you of this."
He held Margot's black mask out in front of her face. Margot howled into her gag. Her identity had been revealed!
"The reason is because I don't think you're a proper superheroine. And I don't think a young lady should go around pretending to be she's something she's not." Todorov slipped the black mask into the side pocket of his coat. "So I took off your boots and gloves and belt and everything else. You can thank me later."
Margot glared at Todorov, who's face was silhouetted by the shed's fluorescence. Todorov grinned back. She tried to separate her hands, only to feel the thin ropes cutting into her soft skin. She closed her eyes. "He's right," she thought, sadly. "I'm not a superheroine." She felt exposed underneath the light; her underwear couldn't save her from the feeling of total nakedness in front of this insane sociopath.
"Don't fret, though," Todorov said. "Because I'm giving you some hope. You like that, right, hope? It's what caused you to foolishly believe you could change my ways."
He pulled a syringe out from a different pocket of his coat and showed it to Margot. "This is the antidote, right here. A real antidote for your friend the Blue Lynx."
Behind the gag, Margot sighed. What was this?
"I'm showing it to you because it's yours to take, on one condition."
Margot blinked at Todorov rapidly. "What?" she wondered. She let a big "MMPH" into the cloth. "What do I have to do?" she begged, with no words.
"It's simple, honey. Just tell me the secret identity of the Blue Lynx. Tell me where she lives and how I can get to her. So that after you've administered the antidote, we can continue to have fun."
Margot instinctively shook her head. "MMPH!" she said. "No!" she thought. "Absolutely not! I would never sell out my friend!"
Todorov dropped his gaze in response, laughing quietly. "You sure?" he asked. "This is a once in a night-time opportunity."
Margot paused. She needed to think, really think, for a second. She didn't have to give Todorov a real name, or a real address. And what could he do about that? She'd escape with the antidote, and she'd come back later with Erin, and then the doctor would really be in trouble. She started nodding at Todorov, trying to let him know that she was reconsidering. She felt the toes of his shoes tapping at the her naked hips.
"You want me to take off the gag, so you can tell me?"
Margot nodded. Todorov smiled, and then bent down. He stuck his hands behind Margot's head, running his fingers through her hair before finding the knot of the bandana gag. He struggled with the knot for a minute, then finally pulled it from Margot's mouth. She coughed as the fabric left her lips, feeling spittle run down her lips and toward her jawline.
"So," Todorov said, putting the bandana in yet another pocket, "Who is the Blue Lynx?"
Margot coughed. "Umm."
Todorov snapped his fingers. "Now!"
She needed a name, an address, anything. But it was impossible to think with the light, and the cold floor on her naked skin, and the sensation of ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, and the knowledge that she wasn't like Erin, that she wasn't a proper superheroine, that she had been tricked and captured and was now bound on the floor of a madman's shed in just her bra and panties.
"Her name is, umm, Yancey..."
"Not true," Todorov said, bringing the gag back from his pocket. "Back on you go."
He bent down and speedily knotted the gag around Margot's mouth, this time even tighter than before. Margot struggled and "mmphed" as she felt his hands on her neck and head. She had blown her chance.
"It doesn't matter," Todorov said. "The boss will be here any minute now. I couldn't let you go now. He said he wanted to talk to you."
Margot closed her eyes. She replayed the last couple of days in her head. Driving Erin out to do that horrible PSA. Talking with Erin, yelling at Erin, trying to convince her that it was all for their own good. Erin storming off into the night, and Margot coming to her rescue at the last moment. Erin sick, passed out on the couch, and Margot driving out to the suburbs to apprehend the man who had poisoned the Blue Lynx. And now her, Margot, alone, on the floor of this shed, waiting for Brent Hammerson to arrive and do God knows what. She felt tears welling up in her eyelids. How could all this happen? How could she have been so stupid?
She heard three slow, almost uncertain knocks on the door of the shed. She opened her eyes. "Oh no," she thought. "He's here."
Todorov stepped around Margot's bound, nearly naked body and walked to the door. "Guess that's the boss," he said. "I can't wait to see what we wants to do with you."
He laughed and pulled the door open. Suddenly, there was a sound, and Todorov stumbed back into the shed, his head bent, his hand clutching his cheek. "You!" he muttered.
Margot struggled to raise her head and she what was going on. From her floor-bound position, she could only take in Todorov's back, which was cautiously stumbling her way still. But she the voice she heard next was warm, rich, and utterly recognizable.
"That's right," Erin said. "Me."
"But... how?" the doctor asked, still attempting to find his bearings.
"We look out for each other, me and the Black Bobcat," Erin said. She coughed but quickly resumed speaking. "I knew where to find her, and where to find you, Grigory Todorov."
Todorov laughed. "You're weak as a kitten, Blue Lynx. I know what I put in that poison. It won't be long before you've lost your the last of your... Nine lives."
"I'm down, but not out," Erin replied. And Margot watched as Todorov flew across the room, over her bound and gagged body, with loud screams and flailing arms, into the far end of the shed, where Margot heard the loud crash of medical equipment shattering.
She heard Todorov's sobs of pain and then, at long last, saw the Blue Lynx come into view. She was walking carefully, resting one hand on the long side-table, her other hand on her abdomen. She coughed as she looked into Margot's eyes and smiled.
"Black Bobcat," Erin said, her eyes glimmering with sympathy and affection.
"MMPH!" Margot replied, ecstatically.
With evident pain, Erin crouched to the ground, reaching her hands around Margot's head. She removed the gag from Margot's mouth and let it slide down her neck.
"How," Margot coughed. "How did you---"
"I took the bus," Erin said. "It took a while, but I got here."
She began to unwrap the ropes from Margot's wrists. Margot leaned up to look Erin in the eyes, and found that the Blue Lynx was completely focused on the task at hand. "Because... She's a true hero," Margot thought. She smiled.
"I'm so proud of you, Margot," Erin whispered into her ear. "I'm so proud. But you really can't do this on your own."
Margot nodded sadly. "I know," she whispered.
"We're a team," Erin said. "We're only good if we both work together." She had freed Margot's wrists and had moved on to her ankles. "Otherwise we get stripped and tied up."
Margot giggled. Erin was right, was so completely right. Whenever they were apart, bad things seemed to happen. But whenever they were together, working on a case as a team, they were indestructible. How foolish she had been to come out here alone. In trying to make things right, she had almost gotten herself killed. How was that good for the Blue Lynx, or for the city?
Behind her, Margot heard Todorov groaning, and she watched as Erin got up from the ground and slowly meandered toward the back of the shed. Margot picked at her ankle bonds with her free hands as she listened in to their conversation.
"How are you feeling, Blue Lynx?" Todorov cackled in a broken cadence.
"Not great," Erin admitted. "No thanks to you."
Todorov laughed. "It was nothing personal."
"That's nice to hear," Erin said. "But it doesn't change the fact that you're a horrible douchebag."
She coughed. Margot could tell that it was taking every ounce of the Blue Lynx's strength to even stand up and talk. She had to help somehow. And then she remembered the syringe.
"Blue Lynx!" Margot cried out. "There's an antidote! In his pocket!"
Erin turned back toward Margot, and then once more toward Todorov. "Okay," she said.
Margot heard the sounds of Erin pushing away Todorov's hands, of the Blue Lynx peeking into the pocket's of the doctor's labcoat, of a a superheroine having her way with a prone, useless, contemptible nothing of a man. They were wrestling, Erin and Todorov, and Margot tried desperately to free her legs so that she could turn around and help. But just as she unspooled the final roll of rope from her ankle, the shed door opened. And into the room, carrying a pistol and pushing his fingers through his slicked back hair, strolled-- who else-- but Brent Hammerson.
On to Chapter Eleven
November 12th, 9:05 PM
Margot felt her body shake. No, felt it being shook. There were hands on her shoulders. She could feel the icy cold skin. She felt cold up and down her body. So she opened her eyes.
The light was blinding. It was directly above her, a rectangular fixture on the ceiling. She recognized it. She had seen it inside that doctor's shed...
She was still in the shed. And the doctor was still there too. It was his hands that were on her shoulders. It was his face, his ugly mustache and tight glasses, that she saw against the intense glow of the light. It was his voice she now heard.
"You better wake up. The boss will be here soon."
Margot tried to pluck his the doctor's hands from her shoulders, but found that she couldn't. She couldn't move her hands at all, and when she looked down her body to see why, she saw coils of thin rope binding her wrists together. She also saw that she was wearing no clothes except for her matching lacy flesh-colored bra and panties and her plain white socks. She tried to stand, only to learn that her de-booted ankles had been bound, too. She tried to speak, but it only came out as "MMPH." A gag.
Margot squirmed, "mmphed," tried to thrash her bound legs around. She was laying on the floor of the shed, almost perfectly straight, so that she resembled a sort of tied-up awards statue. Todorov was standing above her, his shoes resting on either side of her waist. He was smiling, seeming to delight in his ropework. She was bound and gagged and without her superheroine outfit. She felt the bare skin of her back of her thighs prickle against the ground, and the bare skin of her chest burning within the harsh white light.
"You're probably wondering why I've divested you of your clothes," Todorov said. "And why I've divested you of this."
He held Margot's black mask out in front of her face. Margot howled into her gag. Her identity had been revealed!
"The reason is because I don't think you're a proper superheroine. And I don't think a young lady should go around pretending to be she's something she's not." Todorov slipped the black mask into the side pocket of his coat. "So I took off your boots and gloves and belt and everything else. You can thank me later."
Margot glared at Todorov, who's face was silhouetted by the shed's fluorescence. Todorov grinned back. She tried to separate her hands, only to feel the thin ropes cutting into her soft skin. She closed her eyes. "He's right," she thought, sadly. "I'm not a superheroine." She felt exposed underneath the light; her underwear couldn't save her from the feeling of total nakedness in front of this insane sociopath.
"Don't fret, though," Todorov said. "Because I'm giving you some hope. You like that, right, hope? It's what caused you to foolishly believe you could change my ways."
He pulled a syringe out from a different pocket of his coat and showed it to Margot. "This is the antidote, right here. A real antidote for your friend the Blue Lynx."
Behind the gag, Margot sighed. What was this?
"I'm showing it to you because it's yours to take, on one condition."
Margot blinked at Todorov rapidly. "What?" she wondered. She let a big "MMPH" into the cloth. "What do I have to do?" she begged, with no words.
"It's simple, honey. Just tell me the secret identity of the Blue Lynx. Tell me where she lives and how I can get to her. So that after you've administered the antidote, we can continue to have fun."
Margot instinctively shook her head. "MMPH!" she said. "No!" she thought. "Absolutely not! I would never sell out my friend!"
Todorov dropped his gaze in response, laughing quietly. "You sure?" he asked. "This is a once in a night-time opportunity."
Margot paused. She needed to think, really think, for a second. She didn't have to give Todorov a real name, or a real address. And what could he do about that? She'd escape with the antidote, and she'd come back later with Erin, and then the doctor would really be in trouble. She started nodding at Todorov, trying to let him know that she was reconsidering. She felt the toes of his shoes tapping at the her naked hips.
"You want me to take off the gag, so you can tell me?"
Margot nodded. Todorov smiled, and then bent down. He stuck his hands behind Margot's head, running his fingers through her hair before finding the knot of the bandana gag. He struggled with the knot for a minute, then finally pulled it from Margot's mouth. She coughed as the fabric left her lips, feeling spittle run down her lips and toward her jawline.
"So," Todorov said, putting the bandana in yet another pocket, "Who is the Blue Lynx?"
Margot coughed. "Umm."
Todorov snapped his fingers. "Now!"
She needed a name, an address, anything. But it was impossible to think with the light, and the cold floor on her naked skin, and the sensation of ropes biting into her wrists and ankles, and the knowledge that she wasn't like Erin, that she wasn't a proper superheroine, that she had been tricked and captured and was now bound on the floor of a madman's shed in just her bra and panties.
"Her name is, umm, Yancey..."
"Not true," Todorov said, bringing the gag back from his pocket. "Back on you go."
He bent down and speedily knotted the gag around Margot's mouth, this time even tighter than before. Margot struggled and "mmphed" as she felt his hands on her neck and head. She had blown her chance.
"It doesn't matter," Todorov said. "The boss will be here any minute now. I couldn't let you go now. He said he wanted to talk to you."
Margot closed her eyes. She replayed the last couple of days in her head. Driving Erin out to do that horrible PSA. Talking with Erin, yelling at Erin, trying to convince her that it was all for their own good. Erin storming off into the night, and Margot coming to her rescue at the last moment. Erin sick, passed out on the couch, and Margot driving out to the suburbs to apprehend the man who had poisoned the Blue Lynx. And now her, Margot, alone, on the floor of this shed, waiting for Brent Hammerson to arrive and do God knows what. She felt tears welling up in her eyelids. How could all this happen? How could she have been so stupid?
She heard three slow, almost uncertain knocks on the door of the shed. She opened her eyes. "Oh no," she thought. "He's here."
Todorov stepped around Margot's bound, nearly naked body and walked to the door. "Guess that's the boss," he said. "I can't wait to see what we wants to do with you."
He laughed and pulled the door open. Suddenly, there was a sound, and Todorov stumbed back into the shed, his head bent, his hand clutching his cheek. "You!" he muttered.
Margot struggled to raise her head and she what was going on. From her floor-bound position, she could only take in Todorov's back, which was cautiously stumbling her way still. But she the voice she heard next was warm, rich, and utterly recognizable.
"That's right," Erin said. "Me."
"But... how?" the doctor asked, still attempting to find his bearings.
"We look out for each other, me and the Black Bobcat," Erin said. She coughed but quickly resumed speaking. "I knew where to find her, and where to find you, Grigory Todorov."
Todorov laughed. "You're weak as a kitten, Blue Lynx. I know what I put in that poison. It won't be long before you've lost your the last of your... Nine lives."
"I'm down, but not out," Erin replied. And Margot watched as Todorov flew across the room, over her bound and gagged body, with loud screams and flailing arms, into the far end of the shed, where Margot heard the loud crash of medical equipment shattering.
She heard Todorov's sobs of pain and then, at long last, saw the Blue Lynx come into view. She was walking carefully, resting one hand on the long side-table, her other hand on her abdomen. She coughed as she looked into Margot's eyes and smiled.
"Black Bobcat," Erin said, her eyes glimmering with sympathy and affection.
"MMPH!" Margot replied, ecstatically.
With evident pain, Erin crouched to the ground, reaching her hands around Margot's head. She removed the gag from Margot's mouth and let it slide down her neck.
"How," Margot coughed. "How did you---"
"I took the bus," Erin said. "It took a while, but I got here."
She began to unwrap the ropes from Margot's wrists. Margot leaned up to look Erin in the eyes, and found that the Blue Lynx was completely focused on the task at hand. "Because... She's a true hero," Margot thought. She smiled.
"I'm so proud of you, Margot," Erin whispered into her ear. "I'm so proud. But you really can't do this on your own."
Margot nodded sadly. "I know," she whispered.
"We're a team," Erin said. "We're only good if we both work together." She had freed Margot's wrists and had moved on to her ankles. "Otherwise we get stripped and tied up."
Margot giggled. Erin was right, was so completely right. Whenever they were apart, bad things seemed to happen. But whenever they were together, working on a case as a team, they were indestructible. How foolish she had been to come out here alone. In trying to make things right, she had almost gotten herself killed. How was that good for the Blue Lynx, or for the city?
Behind her, Margot heard Todorov groaning, and she watched as Erin got up from the ground and slowly meandered toward the back of the shed. Margot picked at her ankle bonds with her free hands as she listened in to their conversation.
"How are you feeling, Blue Lynx?" Todorov cackled in a broken cadence.
"Not great," Erin admitted. "No thanks to you."
Todorov laughed. "It was nothing personal."
"That's nice to hear," Erin said. "But it doesn't change the fact that you're a horrible douchebag."
She coughed. Margot could tell that it was taking every ounce of the Blue Lynx's strength to even stand up and talk. She had to help somehow. And then she remembered the syringe.
"Blue Lynx!" Margot cried out. "There's an antidote! In his pocket!"
Erin turned back toward Margot, and then once more toward Todorov. "Okay," she said.
Margot heard the sounds of Erin pushing away Todorov's hands, of the Blue Lynx peeking into the pocket's of the doctor's labcoat, of a a superheroine having her way with a prone, useless, contemptible nothing of a man. They were wrestling, Erin and Todorov, and Margot tried desperately to free her legs so that she could turn around and help. But just as she unspooled the final roll of rope from her ankle, the shed door opened. And into the room, carrying a pistol and pushing his fingers through his slicked back hair, strolled-- who else-- but Brent Hammerson.
On to Chapter Eleven
The War on Drugs: In Sickness and in Health: Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
November 12th, 9:17 PM
"Grigory," Hammerson growled in his deep, flat voice. "What the fuck is this?"
Erin had turned away from Todorov to look at the new intruder, who of course she recognized. At this point, she and Hammerson had a long history. They had met a few times during her father's events... And then they had met again when she was tied up in that hillbilly shack. They had gone on a strange "date" at her apartment just weeks ago... And then he had tried to blow her and Margot up in that factory. The two of them were practically inseparable, these days. Star-crossed lovers who were constantly trying to kill each other.
"Hammerson," she said, trying not to cough. "I figured I'd see you here."
She watched as Hammerson stopped and grinned. He looked at Erin, then down at Margot, and then back at Todorov, who was lying almost unconscious in a heap behind Erin. He lifted his gun in the air, and seemed to be trying to decide who best to aim it at.
"Blue Lynx," Hammerson said. "Not dead yet, I see."
Erin coughed. "No." She had found the doctor's syringe and was holding it in her gloved fingers. "And it looks like I found a cure."
Hammerson stepped further into the shed, so that he was now just inches away from the soles of Margot's bare feet. He seemed to eye Margot intently, lingering on her bare white flesh shining in the harsh fluorescent light. He licked his lips.
"Hammerson!" Erin cried out. "Look at me!"
But Hammerson now seemed completely engaged in Margot, and pointed the pistol at her head with a shaky hand.
"You look at me, Blue Lynx," he sneered, lowering the gun even closer to Margot's forehead. "You surrender now, or I put a bullet in your partner's brain."
Erin couldn't believe it. This situation again? Wasn't she here less than a month ago? A goon pointing a pistol at her friend's head. It was so easy, so obvious, so uncreative. What could she do, though... The pain still coursing through her body prevented any thought other than...
"Fine," Erin muttered, raising her hands in the air. "Come on and tie me up."
Hammerson laughed. "It doesn't take much, does it?" he said, stepping over Margot's prone body and waving the gun in Erin's direction. "Todorov, tie her up."
Erin turned her head around to look at Todorov. He wasn't moving. His flight through the shed had apparently done him in.
"Fuck, Todorov," Hammerson stammered.
"Looks like you'll have to tie me up yourself," Erin said, slightly twisting her hips. She didn't know what she was going to do. But she knew that as long as Hammerson's gun was off of Margot, that things would turn out alright. She could deal with whatever this creep had to throw at her. What she couldn't deal with was the thought of Margot being hurt.
Hammerson sighed. "Well then," he said, stepping around Margot, seeming to forget that her arms and legs were no longer tied. "I guess I will--"
Margot's fist shot up into Hammerson's groin, and Hammerson crumpled immediately, falling to the floor with a dramatic, high-pitched wheeze.
"Blue Lynx, get him!" Margot yelled, clambering to her feet. She was reaching toward Hammerson's gun, pushing his elbows out of the way. Erin moved over to the the pair of grapplers as fast as she could, which still wasn't nearly as fast as she wanted: every step still required complete concentration. She arrived near Hammerson and began to wind up a punch. But as she brought down her fist toward Hammerson's face, her rival's gun hand stretched out and clocked her in the cheek, sending her spinning around into the shed's long side table.
"Blue Lynx!" Margot screamed, and then she too was off her feet, pushed by Hammerson into the opposite wall, where she collided with hanging farm implements before dropping to the ground.
Erin brushed at her cheek, wincing and moaning. She placed her elbow on the side table and attempted to pull herself to her feet. But just as she found solid ground she felt Hammerson's hand around her throat, and felt her back being pushed against the table. Hammerson forced Erin's head down toward the table, pushing her spine back in an uncomfortable arc and lifting her kicking boots from the floor.
"This plan was too good for you to ruin, Blue Lynx," Hammerson sneered, his face inches away from Erin's. "You were supposed to die."
Erin wriggled in Hammerson's grasp, desperately kicking her feet. She felt Hammerson's fingers tighten around her throat. Her coughs became short and sporadic. Her face began to turn blue.
"I suppose I can kill you yet," Hammerson grinned. "But before that, I have to know who you really are."
Hammerson placed his palm on Erin's mouth, stifling her breathing for a second. He seemed to delight in this moment, watching the Blue Lynx suffocate, but eventually moved on, sliding his hand up Erin's face and flitting his fingers around her mask.
"Finally," Hammerson said, resting his other hand on Erin's spandex-clad stomach. "Finally I'll know."
He brought his thumb underneath the Blue Lynx mask, and Erin gasped.
And, instantly, Hammerson gasped too. He released Erin's throat and stumbled away from the table, his frantic hands pawing at his upper back. As he turned around, Erin saw Hammerson's problem: there was a screwdriver sticking out of him, a blotch of dark red blood already puddling underneath his grey suit.
"Bastard," Margot said, wiping her hands together, watching Hammerson yowl.
Erin coughed, wheezed, held her stomach in pain, but finally pushed herself up from the table. She watched Hammerson, waiting for him to dance her way, and then met his face with an uppercut that sent him to the floor. The screwdriver flew from his back, clattering against the ground in the corner of the shed. Hammerson screeched as Erin had never heard a man screech before.
"GOD," he said, reaching his hands around his back, kicking his legs around, shaking. "GOD. GODDDD. GOD."
Erin moved her poisoned, battle-worn body toward Hammerson's prone figure. She leaned down and looked him in the face. His eyes were shut, still deep in the realm of pain. Erin could relate. But she couldn't sympathize.
"We've got to go now, you slimy bitch," she said, giving him a final kick in the side for good measure.
She put her arm around Margot's waist and the two friends walked toward the door of the shed. Margot spotted something on the corner of the table and picked it up. "My costume!" she cried out.
"Can't forget that," Erin coughed. The girls walked through the shed door and closed the door behind them. They could hear the faint sounds of Todorov whining, of Hammerson screeching. Erin looked at Margot, still dressed in just her flesh-colored bra and panties, and smiled.
"You want to put you clothes back on?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," Margot said. "But first, Erin, you need to give yourself the antidote."
"I know," Erin said, staring at the syringe in her hand. She gulped. "Do you think it will work?"
"Just try it," Margot said. "We can wait. If it doesn't work, we can always go back and rough up Todorov some more."
Erin laughed, and then coughed. "You're talking like a superheroine."
Margot blushed. "I'm not a superheroine."
Erin looked up into the starry sky, and then around at Todorov's backyard, and then finally back into Margot's eyes.
"Yes you are, Margot," she said, in her best superheroine voice. "Yes you are."
END OF PART THREE
Back to the Table of Contents
November 12th, 9:17 PM
"Grigory," Hammerson growled in his deep, flat voice. "What the fuck is this?"
Erin had turned away from Todorov to look at the new intruder, who of course she recognized. At this point, she and Hammerson had a long history. They had met a few times during her father's events... And then they had met again when she was tied up in that hillbilly shack. They had gone on a strange "date" at her apartment just weeks ago... And then he had tried to blow her and Margot up in that factory. The two of them were practically inseparable, these days. Star-crossed lovers who were constantly trying to kill each other.
"Hammerson," she said, trying not to cough. "I figured I'd see you here."
She watched as Hammerson stopped and grinned. He looked at Erin, then down at Margot, and then back at Todorov, who was lying almost unconscious in a heap behind Erin. He lifted his gun in the air, and seemed to be trying to decide who best to aim it at.
"Blue Lynx," Hammerson said. "Not dead yet, I see."
Erin coughed. "No." She had found the doctor's syringe and was holding it in her gloved fingers. "And it looks like I found a cure."
Hammerson stepped further into the shed, so that he was now just inches away from the soles of Margot's bare feet. He seemed to eye Margot intently, lingering on her bare white flesh shining in the harsh fluorescent light. He licked his lips.
"Hammerson!" Erin cried out. "Look at me!"
But Hammerson now seemed completely engaged in Margot, and pointed the pistol at her head with a shaky hand.
"You look at me, Blue Lynx," he sneered, lowering the gun even closer to Margot's forehead. "You surrender now, or I put a bullet in your partner's brain."
Erin couldn't believe it. This situation again? Wasn't she here less than a month ago? A goon pointing a pistol at her friend's head. It was so easy, so obvious, so uncreative. What could she do, though... The pain still coursing through her body prevented any thought other than...
"Fine," Erin muttered, raising her hands in the air. "Come on and tie me up."
Hammerson laughed. "It doesn't take much, does it?" he said, stepping over Margot's prone body and waving the gun in Erin's direction. "Todorov, tie her up."
Erin turned her head around to look at Todorov. He wasn't moving. His flight through the shed had apparently done him in.
"Fuck, Todorov," Hammerson stammered.
"Looks like you'll have to tie me up yourself," Erin said, slightly twisting her hips. She didn't know what she was going to do. But she knew that as long as Hammerson's gun was off of Margot, that things would turn out alright. She could deal with whatever this creep had to throw at her. What she couldn't deal with was the thought of Margot being hurt.
Hammerson sighed. "Well then," he said, stepping around Margot, seeming to forget that her arms and legs were no longer tied. "I guess I will--"
Margot's fist shot up into Hammerson's groin, and Hammerson crumpled immediately, falling to the floor with a dramatic, high-pitched wheeze.
"Blue Lynx, get him!" Margot yelled, clambering to her feet. She was reaching toward Hammerson's gun, pushing his elbows out of the way. Erin moved over to the the pair of grapplers as fast as she could, which still wasn't nearly as fast as she wanted: every step still required complete concentration. She arrived near Hammerson and began to wind up a punch. But as she brought down her fist toward Hammerson's face, her rival's gun hand stretched out and clocked her in the cheek, sending her spinning around into the shed's long side table.
"Blue Lynx!" Margot screamed, and then she too was off her feet, pushed by Hammerson into the opposite wall, where she collided with hanging farm implements before dropping to the ground.
Erin brushed at her cheek, wincing and moaning. She placed her elbow on the side table and attempted to pull herself to her feet. But just as she found solid ground she felt Hammerson's hand around her throat, and felt her back being pushed against the table. Hammerson forced Erin's head down toward the table, pushing her spine back in an uncomfortable arc and lifting her kicking boots from the floor.
"This plan was too good for you to ruin, Blue Lynx," Hammerson sneered, his face inches away from Erin's. "You were supposed to die."
Erin wriggled in Hammerson's grasp, desperately kicking her feet. She felt Hammerson's fingers tighten around her throat. Her coughs became short and sporadic. Her face began to turn blue.
"I suppose I can kill you yet," Hammerson grinned. "But before that, I have to know who you really are."
Hammerson placed his palm on Erin's mouth, stifling her breathing for a second. He seemed to delight in this moment, watching the Blue Lynx suffocate, but eventually moved on, sliding his hand up Erin's face and flitting his fingers around her mask.
"Finally," Hammerson said, resting his other hand on Erin's spandex-clad stomach. "Finally I'll know."
He brought his thumb underneath the Blue Lynx mask, and Erin gasped.
And, instantly, Hammerson gasped too. He released Erin's throat and stumbled away from the table, his frantic hands pawing at his upper back. As he turned around, Erin saw Hammerson's problem: there was a screwdriver sticking out of him, a blotch of dark red blood already puddling underneath his grey suit.
"Bastard," Margot said, wiping her hands together, watching Hammerson yowl.
Erin coughed, wheezed, held her stomach in pain, but finally pushed herself up from the table. She watched Hammerson, waiting for him to dance her way, and then met his face with an uppercut that sent him to the floor. The screwdriver flew from his back, clattering against the ground in the corner of the shed. Hammerson screeched as Erin had never heard a man screech before.
"GOD," he said, reaching his hands around his back, kicking his legs around, shaking. "GOD. GODDDD. GOD."
Erin moved her poisoned, battle-worn body toward Hammerson's prone figure. She leaned down and looked him in the face. His eyes were shut, still deep in the realm of pain. Erin could relate. But she couldn't sympathize.
"We've got to go now, you slimy bitch," she said, giving him a final kick in the side for good measure.
She put her arm around Margot's waist and the two friends walked toward the door of the shed. Margot spotted something on the corner of the table and picked it up. "My costume!" she cried out.
"Can't forget that," Erin coughed. The girls walked through the shed door and closed the door behind them. They could hear the faint sounds of Todorov whining, of Hammerson screeching. Erin looked at Margot, still dressed in just her flesh-colored bra and panties, and smiled.
"You want to put you clothes back on?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah," Margot said. "But first, Erin, you need to give yourself the antidote."
"I know," Erin said, staring at the syringe in her hand. She gulped. "Do you think it will work?"
"Just try it," Margot said. "We can wait. If it doesn't work, we can always go back and rough up Todorov some more."
Erin laughed, and then coughed. "You're talking like a superheroine."
Margot blushed. "I'm not a superheroine."
Erin looked up into the starry sky, and then around at Todorov's backyard, and then finally back into Margot's eyes.
"Yes you are, Margot," she said, in her best superheroine voice. "Yes you are."
END OF PART THREE
Back to the Table of Contents
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)