First time reading? Start at the beginning here.
Moreen crouched next to Allen, a burnt smell reaching her nose. Taking cover in the alcove by the restroom entrance, she could only see the small section of hallway directly in front of her. She had no idea what the supervillain was doing, or if the other agents had survived his attack. She waited, her legs cramping beneath her, unwilling to risk making a sound by adjusting her position.
The supervillain walked into her line of sight. He noticed them and turned, the odd animal face of his mask grinning disconcertingly. Moreen didn’t move or even dare to breathe loudly. Her gaze went to his hands, watching them for any sign that he would conjure that strange white fire again. Beside her, Allen whimpered.
The two of them couldn’t possibly look threatening. They were a short woman with a broken arm and an overweight man bleeding from the gut. The supervillain should dismiss them and move on, unless he was the type who liked to toy with his victims. Moreen didn’t recognize him, so she didn’t know. She debated attacking him, but that couldn’t possibly end well. He would blast her with that fiery energy, and she would…what? Hit him with her one functional arm? She wouldn’t stand a chance even if she wasn’t injured. No, her best strategy was to look as pathetic as possible and hope he passed them by.
Apparently, she looked pretty pathetic, because the supervillain kept walking. She nearly snarled at his back before reminding herself that she should feel relieved, thank you very much. She grabbed Allen under the shoulder and pulled him into the restroom, not wanting to present an easy target if the supervillain came back. They weren’t alone, and Moreen struggled to remember the name of the woman hiding in one of the stalls.
“Debra,” she snapped. “Grab some paper towels and put pressure on his wound. I’m going to get help.”
The woman peeked cautiously out of the stall, saw Allen, and rushed to the paper towel dispenser. Moreen stayed just long enough to make sure Debra could handle the situation then slipped out with a promise to return soon. Back in the alcove, Moreen tried to listen for a clue if the supervillain was still close, but she couldn’t hear anything over the damn alarm. She peered around the corner.
The supervillain was only a few feet away, his back to her as he stood over an agent—a living agent. The man was lying on the floor covered in red burns, but he was alive. The supervillain lifted his right hand, and white flames sprang to life over his fingertips. Moreen couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she didn’t need to. She’d heard the gloating villain speech a dozen times before.
She could run the other way. With his back turned to her, the supervillain probably wouldn’t notice her sneaking down the hall. Or she could stay right where she was until it was safer to venture out. She could do a lot of things, but honestly, none of those options occurred to her until after she’d pulled out her taser and shot the supervillain in the back.
He dropped to the floor, and Moreen rushed forward. As nice as it was to watch him scream and twitch, tazing him wasn’t a permanent solution. Standard DSA procedure was to sedate supervillains until a way to neutralize their powers could be found, but Moreen didn’t have the sedative on her. She didn’t even have a pair of handcuffs. True, everything she needed could be found in the building, but by the time she finished that scavenger hunt and got back here, the supervillain would be on his feet and angry. She couldn’t leave him here, not with helpless people nearby.
The supervillain had stopped screaming, and he wasn’t twitching as much. All too soon, he’d be up and ready to roast her. Moreen looked frantically around for something that could help and spotted a handgun on the floor by a fallen agent. Moreen snatched it up and aimed at the supervillain.
He didn’t notice. His eyes were clenched shut in pain.
“Hey, jackass,” Moreen said.
His eyes flew open. His mask was askew, the eyeholes off center, but he could see her—and more importantly the gun.
“If I see so much as a spark, I’m going to shoot,” she warned. “Got it?”
“Good. On your feet.”
That proved to be a hard order to follow, since his body was weak and trembling. Moreen scowled at the time it was taking, knowing it would take even longer to escort him downstairs and presumably find some help. There was nothing else she could do, but she didn’t like the idea of being tied up with one task for so long.
Whatever was going on, she had a feeling it wasn’t over yet.
Poor, dumb Leo. So much for his supervillain career.
We are soooo close to the end of this serial. If you guys have predictions about how it’s all going to turn out, now’s the time to leave a comment. Then, a few weeks from now when it’s all over, you can prove to the world that you were right (or wrong, haha).
I don’t know what I’m going to do with this blog when Fight Crime! is over.