Grand Wall

“Gran, Jess and me have powers.” Matt jumped on the overstuffed chair and threw his legs over an armrest.

“Jess and I have powers.” The elder woman walked by the side table placing a glass of milk for the youngster.

“Ugh! Fine!” Matt rolled his eyes. “Jess and I have powers. We got them from Mom and Dad. Right?”

“That is correct.” The grandmother smiled as she sat in the chair across from her grandson.

“But Dad isn’t a superhero. And neither is Mom.”

Ethel, the grandmother, tilted her head to one side. “Well, that isn’t exactly true.” She took a bite of her pie and sipped her mil. “Your dad, bless his heart, made a valiant attempt at being a superhero.”

“Really?” The young man snapped to a seated position and leaned forward. “Who was he? Was he a sidekick for Grandpa?”

Ethel chuckled. “Nothing as glamorous as you might suspect. He was a teenager, and he called himself Rapid Rabbit. He is still fast, but back then he tried to be a speedster.”

“Awww! Not Rapid Rabbit.” Matt slapped his hand to his forehead. “I have seen the old videos of him and read a few of the stories. He caught three bank robbers and stopped a runaway baby stroller. That’s not a superhero.”

“He saved that baby’s life, and that baby went on to become an EMT who has saved several peoples lives.” Ethel tsked her grandson. “And those robbers were armed. They shot at him. Your dad isn’t bulletproof.”

“Grandpa was, though.  Wasn’t he?”

“Yes. Your grandfather was. Still is, in fact. He was called Taurus. He would be classified as a strongman / tank now a days.”

“Yeah!” Matt did a fist pump. “That is where I get it from then.”

“We don’t really know how the traits are passed on, Matt.” Ethel took another bite of pie, finishing it off. “Your mother is a blaster and can fly. Right now, you sister can fly but can’t send out a blast for anything.”

“She’s still young.” Matt nodded his head.

“And so are you. You might keep your strength, but develop blasting abilities when you mature.” Ethel pointed at Matt. “Don’t underestimate the powers of others, or even the ones you have. Your power does not define you, it’s what you do with it.”

“Is this where you tell me how you beat up Brahma Bull?” Matt smiled wide and his eyes twinkled.

“No. This is where we run our errands.” Ethel stood and carried the dishes to the kitchen. “Put on your shoes. Grandpa will watch Jess.”

After the short car ride into town, Ethel stopped at the grocery store, the dry cleaners, and then the bank. Here she checked on the status of her accounts.

Finishing with the teller, Ethel took Matt’s hand and turned for the door. Those same doors were kicked open by three masked men that fired shots into the ceiling. A fourth man stomped into the bank and destroyed the front counter with a single punch.

“I am Brick and I’ll be your robber today.” Brick strode the length of the teller line tossing bags to each person on the other side. “Fill it up with the good stuff and no one gets hurt.”

An armed security guard went for his weapon and was shot by a mask wearer.

“The instructions are simple. Do it now!” Brick punched the teller counter again, destroying another section.

“Gran, we gotta do something.” Matt tugged at his grandmother’s arm.

“No. I gotta go something. You stay put.” Shifting behind a table and keeping her movements subtle, Ethel pointed at one of the masked men. The air shimmered as the object she created flew towards her target. The masked man dropped where he stood.

“Jimmy!” One of the other masked men dashed over to his fallen comrade. Ethel repeated the maneuver and that man dropped too.
Brick shouted, “It looks like we have a hero in our midsts! Jack, do the honors.”

The third masked man leveled his rifle at a group of people. The weapon made an audible click then burped for a few seconds. The group cringed and flattened on the floor. All the bullets stopped inches from the group and fell to the floor.

Ethel, unable to keep her movements subtle, waved at the masked gunman. The force wall she had created collided with her new target and spread him against the wall. The masked man fell forward when the obstruction was removed.

“Yeah! Way to go, Gran!” Matt jumped and threw both fists over his head.

“Yeah. Way to go, Gran.” Brick ran the few steps and snatched Matt by the scruff of the neck.

“Matt!” Ethel extended both hands. One ball of force went for her grandson and enveloped his torso. The other sphere of force spread out to a narrow edge and connected with Brick’s gut. A woof of air escaped Brick’s mouth as he bent over, released Matt, then fell to his knees.

Matt traveled several feet away and was deposited near a group of people who pulled him in.

Ethel moved closer to Brick as he got to his feet. “Old woman, you are gonna pay big time for that.” Brick charged three steps and swung a wild punch at the older woman. Her eyes darted to the moving appendage and an invisible wall interceded with the fist. A hallow sound rang out in the bank, and Brick pulled his fist back with a quick shake.

Brick jabbed in on Ethel with his free hand. Ethel just tilted her head back ever so slightly. Another hallow sound rang out. Brick sucked in air as he shook both fists.

“You don’t even know what you are doing. Snot-nosed, brat, punk kid.” With her arms hanging loose, Ethel flexed both wrists. A shimmer in the air rocked Brick’s head back, which staggered him a few steps.

Ethel then brought both hands together, clasping them. The next shimmer doubled Brick over taking the wind from him.

Just as Brick straightened, Ethel swung both hands up to her head as if she where praying.

The shimmering force connected with a solid thump. Brick’s knees slammed together, his hands darted for his crotch, and his eyes crossed above his puckered mouth. Every male within sight did a sympathy flinch and a few even grunted. Brick emitted a squeak then slumped to the ground.

From outside sirens were heard.

“Matt. Let’s go.” Ethel held her hand out for her grandson. Matt ran and took the older woman’s hand. “Do you see what I mean about how you use your powers?”

“Yes Ma’am!”

Advertisements

Clean Up

David entered the High Five bar and walked to his normal spot on the far end. The bartender placed a beer and a shot in front of him. In a smooth motion, David had half the beer  gone, then sucked the shot down in one gulp. The bartender, being quick, had a second shot to replace the empty glass. David sighed, placed his elbows on the bar, then looked at the TV.

“Glory hounds and sell outs.” His lips moved, but his voice didn’t carry far.

On the screen several members of Atlanta Justice dashed around. Two shot blasts, while another swooped in with a car, smashing it into the hulking figure they were fighting. Behemoth had decided to destroy part of Atlanta and the cops could’t touch him. This meant Atlanta Justice would receive a fat paycheck from the good citizens of Atlanta and the surrounding areas.

This was when the voice kicked in.

Hey! We were offered a spot on their team. You turned them down.

David turned his head from the TV. “Quiet you.” The mutter carried about three feet, but no further. The bartender had just stepped away to give a server her drinks, so no one heard a word.

Turning back to the news broadcast, David saw the end of the fight. Dandelion had gotten close enough to employ her scent powers and knocked Behemoth on his rear end. The rest of the team followed up with restraints. The news reporter went on to congratulate the team and noted that minimal damage was caused by the team itself. In the background David saw the Howard Clean-up trucks pull in.

“That is where the money is. Clean up.”

You have that job. You just don’t want to clean up after supers.

“It takes too long to pick their mess up,” David muttered into his beer mug.

Instead you work on the toxic wastes and other messes that cause more harm.

“I’m immune to that stuff. Besides, if I do it, no one else gets sick.”

A few seconds went by.

“That shut you up.” David grinned and sipped part of his second shot.

That wasn’t your fault.

“Shut it.” David’s tone progressed from a mutter to a quiet growl. A server looked at him as she passed by. He glanced at her, then turned back to the TV.

It wasn’t. You did everything you could. You’re not like me, you need to use equipment and tools.

David finished his beer then singled for another.

Stop beating yourself up over that. It was twelve years ago.

“You could have helped.” David finished his remaining shot.

I was young, inexperienced. We didn’t know what we know now.

“See where that got us?” David swallowed a mouth full of beer. “A one bedroom on the outer area of the ghetto. An ex-wife with my two kids, that I’m not allowed to see. And alimony that takes a third of my paycheck.” David’s voice rose enough that several people looked at him. He coughed to cover it, then hunched over his drink.

Look. I have already apologized for that. I can’t keep apologizing. I also can’t fix it.

“Yeah. No one can.”

The sound of tires screeching, then a high rev of an engine carried into the bar.

Several people outside screamed.

David looked at the door. We should check that out.

“No.”

Gunshots erupted followed by more screaming. The patrons in the bar cast wary glances at windows and the door. The bartender was talking into the phone.

David felt the familiar tingle. Checking his hands, he saw they were expanding.

“I said, no!” David slammed his fist on the bar. A good dent appeared in the hard wood surface.

Tires squealed outside. The sound of a speeding car faded then was replaced by a crashing sound.

David. We need to check that out!”

A young girl’s voice screamed. “Daddy! Daddy!” The sound of loud wails and sobs slammed into David’s ears.

“Damnit!”

Yes!

Getting to his feet, David fished out a twenty, a five, and tossed them on the bar. The tingle started again and spread over his body. When he turned to the center of the room, his hair went from black to light brown and lengthened. His body grew six inches by the time he pushed the door open. The jacket was no longer loose on him. Outside, his grey eyes changed to deep blue.
“Don’t worry David. I got this.” The man, wearing David’s clothes dashed for the crashed car with gunmen climbing from it. He fit a mask over his head as he ran.

Just don’t make a mess. I hate cleaning up after heroes.

Switch Sides

“Get the lead out Shield Bearer. There isn’t much time.” Aegis slid down the line he anchored in place. His sidekick, Shield Bearer, followed.

Both executed identical, and perfect, landing rolls on the roof of Quentin Tech rising to their feet with running strides.

The double doors from the maintenance area exploded open. Aegis and Shield Bearer skidded to a halt, then shifted to ready stances and put one hand on their equipment belt. Aegis peered one way and Shield Bearer the other.

Boom! The roof under their feet shook. Boom! The roof shook again, this time with more force.

“Well, well, well. The information I received was accurate.” The metallic, electric, amplified voice rolled over the roof. “Perhaps the other information will be, too.” The metal form leaned into the silver moonlight. Aegis extended a hand with a jerk. The small sphere cleared the distance between the metal man and the two heroes.

A flat black fist encompassed the bullet causing it to pop. Brilliant light escaped between thick fingers, dulling the effect of the sudden light.

“Typical.” The electronic voice chuckled. “You are so predictable. Aegis does not kill and does not even carry a lethal weapon.” The electronic voice snorted. “This is why you have never taken over Quentin Tech, Richard Grant.”

Aegis shifted again from a defensive posture to that of surprise. “Once again, it seems that my information is accurate. I have you outclassed and outmatched, Richard. Just give it up. Make it easier on yourself for once.”

The armored man pointed a hand at the feet of Aegis and let the constraint foam cover the hero from floor to waist.

Both Aegises’ hands went to his belt. A sharp instrument sliced into the foam at the same instant a device connected to the chest of the metal man. The device emitted a single beep, and then the metal flashed with spider-webs of lightning.

Shield Bearer moved away from Aegis and closer to the sparkling armored man that was now prone. Like his partner, his hand went for his equipment belt pulling a device from it. The item expanded in his hand and he placed it over his mouth and nose.

The foam encasing Aegis spewed smoke, filling the area with a noxious, thick cloud. Aegis moved a well-practiced hand to his belt. However, the tremor set in as soon as he touched his device. It spread from his face, down his neck, and then to his arms. After his body twitched, he slumped forward at the waist and stopped all movement.

“What did he hit me with?” The voice was muffled, but audible. “You didn’t mention he made a way to disable my equipment.”

“I didn’t say a lot of things.” Shield Bearer leaned over the metal man while removing his breathing. “Besides, he didn’t make it. I did.”

“What?”

“I made it. Why is that so hard to understand?”

Shield Bearer moved over to Aegis. A quick movement and a red light ignited on Aegis’ belt. “You see Quentin, I have been a sidekick for several years.” Shield Bearer moved back to the metal encased man. “I have learned many things directly from Rich, here. I learned a lot more by just watching and keeping my mouth shut. For example, you are powerless at the moment and can not open that tin can.”

Shield Bearer pulled at a metal plate, making a gap the width of a little finger. “I have also learned, like you have, that you have to make your destiny.” Shield Bearer pulled a device similar to what Aegis pulled to cut the foam. With a rapid thrust, the armored man jerked. “The last thing I learned is make sure your secret is a secret.”

Wizard Smith

Kent hunched over the workbench and put the last touches on the device held in place by the clamps. Using special pliers of his own creation, he pressed the top back on the slim, metallic device and sealed it together. From there he spit out the SCUBA respirator and removed the clothespin from his nose. With the device closed up, breathing in the chemical explosive that lined this device was impossible.

“There. All complete. That Bruce guy wants these things tomorrow.”

Standing from the stool, Kent stretched and worked the kinks out of his spine. He groaned a contented sound as he relaxed into his normal posture. He added the last item of three dozen to the box of odd-shaped items at his feet. Kent then moved himself and the full container to the delivery table and taped it shut. He also made sure the mailing address was visible. New York wasn’t that far away, so it should arrive on time, he thought.

“Where is Greg?” This question fell on emptiness as he looked around for his son, who was supposed to be his assistant.
Kent went down the hall, checking various storage rooms. It was the third room that gave him the clue he needed. There was an open slot in the weapons rack in a personal storage room. This could spell trouble for Kent if the weapon was broken. A custom-fitted and weighted bow – not to mention colored in patented dark green – was not a toy.

Kent marched down the hall and flung the large double doors on the far wall open. Inside the expansive experimentation room, he saw Greg running across the floor shooting arrows from the missing bow. The target was a training dummy used for targeting and damage assessment. As Greg approached his target, he slung the bow across his back and pulled two red billy clubs from the belt at his waist and pummeled the mannequin. After a few solid, but poorly executed hits, Greg jumped back and pointed a hand at his target.

This was when he noticed the bracer on Greg’s wrist. It spit out several darts and other projectiles each one going wide of the intended target. From here Greg somersaulted towards a pile of martial art weapons. These weapons had precise measurements that put them out of use for the average human. There were two katana swords, a set of sai, a bo staff, and two pair of nunchaku. The four reptilian looking brothers that always wore backpacks requested these designs.

“GREG!” Kent bellowed as he darted down the stairs towards the boy. “What have I told you about using we make? They are not toys, no matter how much you might want them to be.”

Greg halted in mid action. He dropped a sword and a nunchaku to the ground, causing Kent to wince. Turning, Kent made out the wrap around visor with a single, blood-red line running the length of it.

“Dad, I can explain,” Greg said, as his father reached for him. Greg looked at the pile of equipment and weapons at his feet, the ones attached to his belt, and the box closest to the wall. “OK, I can’t explain. But there is no way these people will notice anything missing. They have lockers and storage rooms full of them.”

“That is not the point, son.” Kent reached forward and clamped a hand on Greg’s shoulder. “They pay us for our work. Not to mention for their anonymity. On top of that, they pay us for our workmanship. They depend on these items to not only save their lives, but the lives of others.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Greg shook his head as he stared at his feet. “It’s just so cool to use their equipment.”

“I know,” Kent grinned. “Trust me. Sometimes I want to get in the floating wheelchair I made for that gentleman who runs a school in New York. And just imagine how cool it would be to fly around a transparent plane.”

“That would be cool.”

“Yes. It would. But we can’t and you know that.”

“Yeah.”

“Besides.” Kent bent to pick up a piece of equipment. “You can make your own equipment. Just use their ideas and tweak it. You could make it better or even less powerful. Our clients can be particular.”

“I know that. But tweaking, or even copying, isn’t the same.” Greg mimicked his father and gathered the items he acquired. “I mean, sure we can say we made those items. Especially when we see them in the news. But we don’t do the things they do.”
“Exactly. We are meant to be behind the scenes. Now let’s get this stuff picked up and stored away.”

Kent did his best to make sure that each item was undamaged. If there were any, he would have to fix it or make a new one. Greg already volunteered to reload the bracer and rebuild the arrows he shot.

After each item was stored and Greg started on the reloading process, a chime sounded. Kent fished the data pad out of his work vest and looked at the image on it. He saw a man, possibly late thirties, standing at his office door staring at the camera. The man glanced momentarily at the expensive watch on his wrist then shifted his feet.

Kent tapped an icon on the pad as he walked to the customer’s entrance.

“What do you want?” The emphasis told Greg this was a competitor, and he tried to get a peek at the data pad his father held.
“This is embarrassing, but I need some help.” The man held up a gauntlet for the camera. Greg snorted as he saw the item.

“You know I am not obligated to help you. Especially after what you did to me in New York.” Kent shook his head as he tapped the release button on his data pad, which opened the door allowing the visitor to enter.

The man in the custom tailored suit walked to the counter. His head swiveled from left to right as he looked for items on benches or stored on shelves. When his lips twisted, Kent new he had scored a point. The workbenches were vacant, except for the one where Greg was working. Greg knows to pull the guards down to keep prying eyes away from his work, Kent thought.

“Finally. I am in the holy of holies.” The slim man approached the desk. His strong jaw pulsed as he clenched his teeth. His clear eyes stopped scanning and fixed on to Kent.

“You know my fee.” Kent stood close to the counter both hands resting on his hips.

“I do and you know I can pay it.” The visitor placed the gauntlet on the table. “I just need to know that you won’t copy it or make a knock-off.”

Kent made a rude noise. “Take your erector set and get out of my lab.”

“Come on. You have got to be kidding me. I will double your rate.”

“No.”

Greg stood next to his father and picked up the device. “Triple it and I will fix it for you.”

Kent reached for his son, “Put that down or he might sue you.”

“Yeah, kid. Besides I want pops here to do the work, not an apprentice.” The visitor reached for the metallic glove-like item.

Greg backed up from both men. Rolling the device over, Greg flipped a small tool out of a pocket. A quick pop and a small device was in Greg’s hand. Using another tool, Greg shifted pieces of the device around, then blew on it. As fast as it came out of the gauntlet it was replaced.

“Fixed.” Greg looked at both men. With a smirk and wink, he stuck his left hand into the gauntlet.

“Hey, don’t. Don’t do that.” The well groomed man yelled as he stepped behind the counter and towards Greg. Kent put an interposing arm between the visitor and his son.

“Greg, stop it.” Kent’s eyes widened at the actions of his son.

Greg extended his covered hand, flexed the fingers into a fist then opened them with a snap. Then he rolled his arm over and the palm of the glove glowed with a sphere of electricity and hovered there.

“You fixed it.” The dapper man said, dropping his hands to his side.

“Greg! That was fast.” Kent’s jaws flexed open as he stared at his son.

“At this point, I believe I have a mechanics lean on this device.” Greg nodded towards the visitor. “So if you would be so kind as to authorize triple our rate, you can have your toy back and be on your way.”

With rapid jerky motions, the visitor tapped on the data pad that Kent handed him. “This is highway robbery.” The man winked at Greg.

“Cheaper at twice the price,” Kent said as he took the pad from the man.

With a nod from Kent, Greg tossed the gauntlet back to the visitor.

The man snatched the item, turned on his heels and left.

“See dad.” Greg smiled at his father. “Sometimes it is good to play with the items we work on here.”

“OK, son. Let’s not make this a habit.”

Facsimile

Vim jumped down from the one story building, landing on the sidewalk, and darted across the dark street. He had followed the three thugs for several blocks and now they entered Joe’s Grocery. Since the toughs had robbed two vehicles that night, Vim figured they would hit up a convenient store. Joe’s was the closest one and here they were. Not tonight.

A quick check through the front window, then Vim pushed through the glad door. Two thugs restrained the struggling cashier while the third grabbed the cash from the till.

Stop evil doers. Vim is here to put an end to your dastardly ways. That won’t work.

Keeping it simple, Vim shouted, “Stop!” He stood with fists clenched at his side and a menacing glare on his face. “This store is under my protection. Now drop the cash and get out or you will have to deal with me.” Vim cracked his knuckles.

“Shit! It’s him!” The robber with the cash stood slacked jawed.

All the robbers, and the cashier, looked at the dark-red costume with bright yellow trim. All of their eyes zipped to the yellow and blue Yin-Yang emblem in the center of his chest.

“That’s right!” Vim took a step forward. “Now – -”

The three would-be robbers dropped and let go of the cashier in unison, then jammed for the door.

Vim slid his foot back and blinked several times as his head turned to follow each thug out the door. He turned back and stated at the cashier with his mouth open.

“Joe is not going to believe this.” The woman shook her head as she massaged her arms. “He says he pays you protection money, but that you never really protection anything.” She collected the loose bills and out them back in the register. “I don’t believe it and I watched it.”

Raising his eyebrows and shrugging, Vim said, “First time for everything.” Vim ran from the store.

Charlie didn’t know what to think. He had worked for two years to get in shape to look like a super hero, and with the help of his new costume, he was one. Tonight was his first time on patrols and he stopped a store robbery. The cashier was probably saved too. He would count it to be sure.

It took Charlie an hour to drive home and another ten minutes to sneak back into his house. His sister, Vanessa, waited for him in his room. She had a large emergency first-aid kit at her feet. Charlie turned on his light and Vanessa stood.

“You aren’t cut, bruised, or beat up! What gives?” She approached him with a pout on her lips and disappointment in her eyes.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis.” He sighed and plopped on his bread. “I am better than anticipated. I scared them.” Charlie smiled. “Anyway, I can handle street punks. I take out the first one that steps up. The rest will pause enough for me to knock out the second one. After that, the rest will run.” The logic behind rid was simple and would work on kids or those without enough experience.

“Yeah, you said that before.” Vanessa hefted the backpack kit to a shoulder. “The guru at the gym told you that.” She slumped down the hall and into her room.

It took Charlie another hours to come off the high from the evening.

Two nights late, Vim traveled the rooftops of the same party of the city. It was a rough post, seedy, and had a high crime rate. This evening was productive as well. He stopped three muggings, a car jacking, and was following a purse-snatcher now.

Vaulting an alley, Vim shifted to the fire escape and descended to the asphalt. The thief turned down this alley and was hiding in the dark recesses. The sound of a garbage can banging pulled Vim further into the darkened areas. With the dim moonlight, he spotted the thief.

“Give me the bag and I will let you go.” Vim had given up on the snappy sayings and witty banter. Keeping it simple worked best for him.

“What the fuck are you supposed..to..be..Oh shit!” The thief flung the large purse at Vim then ran further into the alley.

Vim took the bag the five blocks where the woman was calling the police. She looked at the muscles man in his costume.

“You ain’t gonna believe this. I got the purse back. Yeah. It’s right here. I know. But it’s who brung it back.” The woman took the purse from Vim’s hands.

“Have a good night.” Vim ran from the scene as a police car came into view. If the cops caught him, it would not be good. He didn’t have any powers, just the gym-built muscles and some basic fighting he picked up from the self-teaching DVDs. A single cop could arrest him no problem.

Once again, Charlie drove home with a sense of accomplishment and that of bewilderment. Guys, the old guy at his gym, told him it would be hard work and take time to establish himself. So far, Guys had been correct. Charlie liked what he was doing. But it was going faster than expected.

At home he sneaked in again. After stashing his costume in his closet, Charlie tried to focus on his homework. He was falling behind in his second year of college, and that was not good.

A month went by as Charlie, in the guise of Vim, patrolled his new favorite part of the city. Eventually Vim had to fight. Not just once, a few different times. So he followed his plan. He wasn’t fast enough to verbally fight, do he just punched of kicked anyone that got rough. This brought in a second person, do Vim put that one down too. The rest, following his theory, ran.
On patrol, Vim spotted a young couple approaching an ATM. Judging by their style of dress, and their constant head turning, they didn’t belong in this part of the city. When the couple pulled away from the ATM, a dark figure peeled away from a wall and approached. The couple stopped and Vim went into action.

Sliding down a downspout, Vim dashed the two blocks where the mugging was happening.

“Stop! Get away from those two.” Vim shoved the mugger back several paces, knocking him to the pavement. He looked at the couple. “Get in your car and get out of here.” The couple took Vim’s advice.

The mugger scrambled to his feet and then shouted, “Hey! He’s here.”

Vim scanned the immediate area to see who the mugger was calling. He couldn’t make out the recipient of the call.

“I’m right here.” Vim stepped closer to the mugger. “I would leave if I were you. While you still can.” Vim tightened his fists and set his jaw.

“Whoa.” The mugger held up his hands. “Save it. Wreck will be here shortly. Then he will deal with you.”

“Who is Wreck?”

“You’ll see.”

The mugger looked up then pointed. “Yup. There he is. I want front row seats.” The mugger moved several steps away, with a wide grin.

Vim followed the where the mugger pointed. A darker shadow floated overhead, blocking out some stars. Then the shadow got bigger. It was a full twenty seconds when the shadow landed in front of Vim.

Both costumed individuals stared at each other. It was like looking into a mirror, or a duplicate. The costumes were the same color scheme and even the same emblem. The masks matched down to the stitching, even the small tuft of hair that stuck out. The men were the same height, build, and even the same eye color.

A scar on the newcomers chin was a visible difference. Then there was the power thing that separated them. The newcomer could fly. Finally, there was the fact that people knew Wreck by name. No one had bothered to get Vim’s name.
Vim’s Adam’s apple bobbed rapidly and he sucked in a sharp breath through his mouth.

“So, you want in on my territory.” Wreck folded his arms across his chest. “You’ll have to earn it.” Wreck’s grey eyes glowed a deep orange color and smoke issued from them.

Vim crossed his arms over his head, let out a blood-curdling scream, and feel to the road.