Special Delivery – Flash Mob

Lawrence Gustafsen scanned his monitors. After working for Special Delivery for a few months, he developed a habit of checking every few seconds instead of relying on alarms.

“A half hour before my shift is over,” Lawrence said as he glanced at the digital read out of his shift time. “Nothing crazy, please.”

His current read out had only Flash Mob on mission. Flash Mob’s status was stable and not even close to trouble. Out of reflex, Lawrence pulled up the map of Flash Mob’s current location.

“Downtown on the Northside. Close to the projects.” Lawrence’s lips moved as he mentally calculated the number of hops he would need. “Two should work.”

Lawrence shifted to move his lunch cooler to the top of the desk. Next, he checked the mini-fridge’s stock of beverages and snacks. “Need to make a run tomorrow or so.” Closing the fridge his computer monitor blinked.

Flash Mob Status Critical. Then the beeping kicked in.

“CRAP!”

Lawrence stood and moved his bulk from his workstation. A quick tap on his wrist panel and he said, “EMT Lawrence Gustafsen responding to alarm for Flash Mob.” As he entered the walkway, he disappeared.

Lawrence appeared over the Hines building. He tumbled a few feet, then disappeared again.

Reappearing on the top of the building, Lawrence lurched as his momentum carried him a step. “OK. Not close to the projects. In the projects.”

Lawrence’s wrist panel showed a general location of himself and his patient. He followed the map and moved through the door.

Taking a step on the landing, Lawrence saw a body. He moved closer and his map reflected he was on top of his patient. His wrist panel map updated, and he found a string of his patients.

“What,” Lawrence’s loud voice echoed in the switch-back stairwell.

Leaning down, Lawrence checked pulse and general condition. He saw another body on the next landing. Staring over the hand rail, he saw more bodies on the stairs, another landing, and one or two draped over the railing. Each body dressed like the ones near him.

“Uh…control,” Lawrence said, holding a finger to his earbud. “I have multiple…Uh…bodies.”

“EMT, this is control,” the rapid speech of the voice of control said. “Clarify.”

“I have,” Lawrence pointed to the bodies he could see, “25 bodies. They all show on my monitor and they are all dressed as Flash Mob.”

“Then bring them in,” the voice of control said.

“They are all showing critical status.”

“Move fast.” The sound in Lawrence’s ear went quiet.

Lawrence checked on the closest body. He saw a wound on the leg and shoulder. Moving to the next body, Lawrence saw that both arms were broken. Over the next five bodies, Lawrence noted different wounds on different body parts. After ten bodies, Lawrence noticed none of them was dead, but some were close.

“I need to get these guys to a hospital,” Lawrence said as he grabbed two arms.

Disappearing, he reappeared on the roof of the building and placed the bodies on the gravel. Going as fast as he could, he repeated this process until all 34 bodies were on the roof. Lawrence managed to lay each person so that they were touching the next person. Once all the bodies were situated, he contacted control.

“I have the bodies ready for transport. Notify Angel of Mercy. Large group in coming.” Lawrence squatted and gripped a hand.

“Understood EMT. Good luck,” the practiced voice of control went quiet.

“Here goes everything,” Lawrence breathed out and shut his eyes.

Lawrence disappeared from the dilapidated building’s roof. In rapid succession, so did each of the Flash Mob bodies.

He reappeared, several miles away and a few of the bodies appeared over him. Falling, he watched as the train of bodies appeared over him. After ten seconds, the last one appeared.

“Oh man!” Lawrence screamed as he closed his eyes again and repeated the process.

It took Lawrence nine more jumps to reach his destination. He appeared over the hospital and shouted over his earbud, “YOU’RE GONNA NEED MORE GURNEYS!”

Disappearing again, he reappeared next to several gurneys. In turn, each body appeared over a gurney. An attendant moved the bed away as fast as they could. As one was removed, another took it’s place.

Sweat beaded on Lawrence’s face. “Come on. Hurry up.”

Every one of the bodies landed on a gurney. As the last one appeared, Lawrence caught himself on a nearby orderly.

“I’m EMT,” Lawrence huffed, “Lawrence,” more huffing, “damn my name is long.”

“Hey,” the orderly smiled at him. “We got it from here. Just sign.”

Lawrence reached forward with a sweaty hand and scribbled his name.

Putting a hand to his ear, Lawrence said, “Control. Patient delivered. Call me a cab.” Lawrence plopped down on the curb to wait.

Advertisements

Rogue Telekinetic – Cowboy Cadillac

Jack Davis slowed his car to a stop at the red traffic light. He spotted the elderly woman as she pushed her walker into the street. Her foot shook as it left the sidewalk and she stepped on the first of several white stripes of the crosswalk.

The low rumble rose from behind Jack, and he shifted his eyes to the rear-view mirror. He spotted the large red pickup truck as it loomed next to him in the adjacent lane. Jack pivoted his head to look in the cab at the large driver with a shaved head.

Jack noted of excessive use of chrome on the outside of the vehicle. He saw the gun rack with a two-by-four nestled on one set of hooks. The red fabric of a rebel flag draped over the head rests of the seat. Jack also made out the heavy beat of loud music.

With a heavy sigh, Jack turned his attention back to the old woman crossing the street.

The old woman progressed to the halfway point of Jack’s car. The white walking figure on the sign shown bright on both posts. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed the driver of the pickup truck turn and look at the old woman. A smile spread across the fat face of the truck driver. That smile shifted a laugh and finally a guffaw.

Jack raised an eyebrow.

The older woman inched further along her path. The woman paused in her palsied journey for a few breaths when she passed Jack’s car.

Jack spotted the shoulder of the truck driver twitch. It twitched again. A loud sound, reminiscent of a train horn pierced the air. Jack jumped in his seat and he turned to look at the old lady.

The old lady slumped on her walker, her shoulders heaving. Jack saw the head of the old woman look at the truck driver. The old woman’s legs flexed and then her feet gripped the asphalt as she moved forward.

The timer displayed on the crosswalk poles. It blinked the last of the double digits.

The old woman started her journey once again.

Watching the fat man in the truck laugh, Jack breathed in deep and let it out slow. He focused on the large, shiny, passenger-side mirror. With a swift nod, the mirror separated from the truck and crashed to the ground. Next Jack shifted his gazed to the two hubcaps he could see. In unison, they collapsed on themselves, then fell off the wheels.

Jack’s next focus point was the rear-view mirror in the truck. It fell without making a sound. The truck driver pivoted his head from the old lady, to his fallen mirror. He leaned down, and Jack target the other side mirror. As if in a movie, the mirror fell as the truck driver sat up holding the rear-view mirror in multiple pieces.

Jack saw that the old lady finished her journey across the road. She hadn’t stepped onto the sidewalk, but the lights shifted to allow the drivers to progress.

Jack winked at the windshield of the truck. Spiderweb cracks appeared, making the entire screen opaque.

Seeing the elderly lady on the sidewalk, Jack inched passed the unmoving pickup truck. With a sideways glance at the front grill, Jack pictured the wench and chrome brush guard on the ground. The clang of metal on asphalt echoed in the downtown area.

Jack drove through the intersection and turned into the parking garage. The truck driver stood outside of his vehicle shaking and scratching his head.

With a nod from Jack, steam erupted under the hood of the once impressive pickup truck. Jack continued on into the parking garage and headed to work.

Twinsies

“Now,” David asked. “You need me to do this now?” David rolled his eyes, as he activated his turn signal. “I’m gonna be late.”

“Late for what,” Daniel asked. “You’re on your way home.”

David let out an exaggerated sigh. “I have a date,” he glanced at his dashboard clock. “In twenty minutes.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Daniel said. “I just have to be seen walking out of my office and into the elevator.”

“Fine, but it’ll cost ya,” David turned again and zoomed through the yellow light. “I figure a c-note should cover it.”

“What! That’s highway robbery.”

“No, that’s paying for services rendered.” David pulled into the parking garage, handed the attendant a ten, then continued driving. “Deal, or I turn around and leave.”

“Fine,” Daniel sighed. “Right hand drawer. Just a hundred.”

“Good. I’m parked.” David pressed the hang-up button and got out of his car. Standing the parking garage made him uncomfortable.

“You ready,” David jumped as Daniel appeared next to him.

“I hate it when you do that,” David reached for the bundle in Daniel’s hands. “Just the shirt and tie. The rest won’t be noticed.”

“What ever. Just change,” Daniel said and pulled his dark-green cowl over his head. “It shouldn’t take more than three minutes.”

David pulled his shirt off and swapped it with the one he was handed. The tie was still looped, but he tightened it around his neck. He held his hand up to stall Daniel. David shoved his hands into the waist of his pants, pulling the shirt-tails with it. David nodded when he was ready.

Daniel grinned and grabbed his identical twin and zipped up to his open window.

David plopped into the soft leather chair and ran a hand through his wind-swept hair. “I’m leaving in three minutes.”

“Fine,” Daniel said. “I’m off, and thanks.” He waved to his brother and jumped from the window. His power kicked in and he flew out towards the danger he was called for.

“Twins my ass,” David said. “He got the power and the attitude. I got the brains.” He reached for the right hand drawer and pulled. Inside were papers, small trinkets, and a manilla envelope. Taking the envelope, David pulled a hundred-dollar bill out and folded it into his pocket. “Plus tip,” David repeated the process with a twenty.

After counting to one hundred, David stood from the chair. He grabbed the leather valise and walked out the door.

“See ya tomorrow, Marie,” David said to Daniel’s secretary.

Marie looked up from her computer and did a double take. Her lips moved but carried no sound, “David.”

“OK, Mr. Tabbert,” Marie smiled to herself.

Gargantua

“You big meany,” the little girl with pigtails said as she stuck her tongue out. “You should stop right now.” Her rosy cheeks matched the pink in her jumper. “If Gargantua shows up, you’ll be sorry.” She leaned forward waggling a finger with her other fist on her hip.

“Hahaha. Little one, you should worry about yourself.” The hulking figure of Brute approached the little girl, a feral smile on his lips. “Gargantua isn’t here to protect anyone.” Taking in the crowd of cowering people, Brute bellowed, “You know the drill. Cash. On the table. Now.”

Several people moved to comply.

Brute stormed into the Golden Stork Casino ten minutes earlier. After he had knocked out the three armed security guards, Brute smashed open their money cart and dumped it over. With a thundering bellow, he collapsed a pillar after he saw the cart was empty.

Now, he was going to rob the patrons to make up for his loss. He knew better than to tangle with the vaults. They were triple protected and beyond his ability to break open.

“Gargantua!” The little girl screamed.

Brute jerked back to face her. “Stop that.”

“Why,” the little girl asked. “Are you afraid she will hear it? If she does she might show up.”

“She’s tall and strong,” Brute snorted. “She won’t hear you. Besides, she would never be in a place like this.”

“Gargantua!”

Brute looked around. Several people stopped moving to place their money on the table. Looking left, then right, Brute added to the shout. “GARGANTUA!”

He waited again.

“See. Nothing.” Brute let out a belly laugh that rattled the nearby glass.

Seeing that he was right, the patrons began to pile their money on the table again.

The little girl let out a humph and stomped over to Brute.

“Ohhh…You are so cute when you’re mad.” He reached down and patted the three foot tall girl on her head.

She kicked him in the shin. Brute didn’t even flinch.

“Look, kid. I don’t really want to hurt you. You’re feisty, and I like that.” Brute kneeled down and placed a card-table sized hand on her shoulder. Her knees flexed, but she remained upright. “But if you don’t stop bothering me, I’m gonna have to spank you.”

A collective gasp escaped several people, and some moved to grab the child. A glare from Brute froze them all in their tracks.

“You wouldn’t.” The little girl screwed up her face and narrowed her eyes.

“Yes, I would.” Brute’s shoulder jumped, and the girl flew several yards. Her limp body collided with the wooden teller booth. Her small form cratered the wall, bringing the marble counter on top of her.

Brute’s face flattened and his eyes narrowed. Standing up in a smooth motion, he shouted. “Anyone else?” Several people visibly shook, and a few had wet spots on their pants. “I didn’t think so.”

Brute moved to the table where all the cash laid in a flat pile. He raked it into a large bag he carried.

The rubble of the teller bank shifted and a grumble came through the dust and splintered wood.

“You forgot about me.”

The voice was loud and low, but no mistaking the feminine edge it carried.

As the debris shifted and fell to the side, a statuesque woman, replete with mask stood in the wake of the destruction. Her head brushed the cathedral ceiling as she extended to her full height.

“Brute. I gave you a chance. Now it’s my turn.” With strides the length of banquet tables, she cleared the distance to the muscle bound thug. Her oven sized hands encased Brute, pinning his arms to his sides.

“But…but…but…The little girl.” Brute’s mouth moved and his eyes opened to the size of dinner plates.

Gargantua smirked and shook her head. The swaying pig tails caught his attention.

“Mother fuc-”

Gargantua twitched her wrist, making Brute’s teeth click. “You kiss your mother with that potty mouth?”

The Toddler

The toddler let go of the stroller. His short legs, hampered by the thick diaper, carried him several steps from the reach of his mother. A mother with her head bowed over a phone. “Boy, you better get back here,” the mother growled. She moved her blood-shot eyes to look at the kid.

The toddler giggled. He let out a gurgle making several other passengers smile as he stumbled about. The train jostled, tossing the already unstable child towards the closed doors. The toddler’s feet danced several steps, keeping the tyke up right. The distracted mother kept her head and shoulders hunched over her phone. She didn’t flinch when her son lost his balance. Her fingers tapped on the phone when the child lunged for the doors.

Tiny fingers gripped the seal between the sliding doors. His small weight shifted with the rolling floor. The doors slammed open, taking the small body into the air.

Five adult passengers clambered for just a finger hold on the child. None made it.

The sixth arm wriggled through legs, the tangle of arms, and encircled the child’s torso. A swift tug and the toddler was back in the train.

All heads turned; following the arm back to the body it was attached. A tall woman blew out a breath and placed the toddler in front of his mother.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The mother dashed to her feet with a disgusted look on her face. “You’re a Meta-Human! Don’t you dare touch me!” With her phone put away, she looked at the crying child. The mother kept a distance from the child, while the child extended arms and tiny, grasping hands.

Several faces turned to look at a man wearing a dark suit with a gold MWG pin on his lapel. The man had a hand-sized detector out and scanned the area. When he put it away, he looked over his dark shades and cocked an eyebrow. “You know it’s against the law to display your abilities in public?”

“Except in self-defense or other dire situations.” The woman glanced at the toddler and his mother. “I think this counts.” A smile creased her face as she stepped towards the door.

A consenting murmur came from the surrounding people. Several backed away from the surrounding group.

“I’m that child’s mother and I wouldn’t have consented!” The mother leaned forward, but pointed a hand at the wailing child.

Heads turned to stare at the mother with wide eyes, and mouths open. Someone gasped.

The train pulled into the station and the intercom blared the garbled stop name.

“Call it in if you are so inclined.” The tall woman moved for the opened door, hitching her bag on her shoulder as she stepped on the busy platform.

“Don’t you walk away,” the mother stomped towards the leaving woman. The crying child grabbing at the legs of his mother.

The MWG member shook his head and walked away. “There is no accounting for class.”

The Dancer

“Tasha this isn’t a good idea.” Marie looked through the gym door. “The stands are packed!”

“Good.” Tasha let out a heavy sigh. “If I’m coming out, it might as well be big.” She shook her hands and paced in a tight circle. “I need to do this, Claire.”

“You’re on deck,” the dance competition official said. “This way, and wait at the door.”

Tasha winked at Claire and walked to the spot designated by the official.

“You got this,” Claire said, giving a thumbs up.

Tasha gave a quick finger wave and grin.

The final strain of the previous dance team’s music faded. Tasha saw them dash to the far end of the gym floor, file out to the side.

“Up next Central High school.” An official pulled the door open for Tasha, ushering her in.

“Where is the rest of your team?” This was the announcer.

“I’m a team of one.” Tasha shrugged and moved to the edge of the dance area.

“The next school up is Central High.” The amplified voice reverberated throughout the gym.

Tasha walked to the center of the gym.

“Central High you have the floor and your music is on.”

The second of silence stretched. The sudden blast of the bass note sent a jolt through the crowd. A gasp that changed barometric pressure of the room came next.

Tasha held hands over had, fingers dangling towards her head. Another set of arms were overhead, palms out. A third set splayed from her shoulders pointing to the rafters. The fourth set stuck out from here body forming a cross. Another set pointed to the ground and behind. The final set extended forward with fingers curling in a come hither.

The entire front row of the bleachers showed large amounts of white in their eyes.

Tasha’s choice of music changed to a steady rolling rhythm. A body detached, taking a set of arms with it. This process repeated for each set of arms with another five more bodies appearing. Each body’s appearance was identical to Tasha. The only difference, though no one in the stands could tell, were the eyes. Only one dancer had normal eyes, the rest shared milky white, hazy eyes.

Every dancer moved in perfect timing with the driving music blaring over the sound system. Spins ended with crisp precision, flips and leaps cleared the exact distance needed. Each dancer’s hips swayed in unison.

The entire gymnasium sat in graveyard silence. Jaws slacked and eyes widened. Every spectator watched as the identical dancers completed their complex gyrations and intricate choreography.

The music built up in volume and cadence. The movements of the dancers picked up in time. As the final notes carried, Tasha stood in the center of the dance area. Each of the clones were away from her, but turned to face center. At a single step interval, each dancer darted toward their creator. As they approached to an arms distance, each dancer leaped and collided with the host, melding with Tasha.

As the last body disappeared from view, Tasha stood in perfect on point stance.

The music faded and the audience’s breathing returned. Tasha walked with the poise of a prima Dona and left the dance area.

As Tasha strode past the announcer, she said, “Not bad for a Meta-Human, huh?” Tasha kept walking, even with the dark clad person detaching from the stands.

Kopy Kat

“Ladies, this is no way to meet me.” The figure stepped through the door and put his hands on his hips. He wore a plain white t-shirt tucked into well worn and faded blue jeans. There was no emblem, no utility belt, and no cape. His feet were clad in ankle high chuck Taylor’s. The only thing hiding his identity was the domino mask.

“What do we have here?” The short woman turned to face the man. “Must not be much, because he ain’t got a costume.”

“Red Racer, it takes more than a silly costume to be a hero.” The young man smiled at the short red dressed woman.

“You must be one of them over all types. Decent strength, toughness, reaction, flexibility.” The woman stepped forward placing her hands on her hips. “Jack of all trades, no specialty.” She smirked and glanced back at Crag, who carried a large ATM on her shoulders.

“You have no idea.” The man shook his head slowly then tilted it forward. “All that matters is I am going to stop you.”

Red Racer let out a sharp HA and zipped forward. Her fists darted in on the plainly dressed man, but not a single one landed. The man either shifted out of range or deflected the blows to the side.

A quick change of his feet, and the man sent a triple punch that landed on Red Racer’s face. Bruises and a cut showed when he stopped.

Red Racer fell with a moan and struggling to get up.

The ATM clanged to the ground.

“You should’t hit girls.”

Crag stomped forward, her fists curled and rising.

“Look, Crag. You don’t want to do this.” The young man held his hands up and stepped back a few paces. “You can just surrender and make this easier on yourself.” The cocky smile never left the man’s face.

“Shut up!”

Crag brought a fist down with blinding speed. The only resistance she felt was the ground and left a beachball sized crater.

“I warned you, Crag.” The youth’s fist connected with Crag’s chin and she staggered back.

“How?” Her features suited the question as she rubbed where he hit her.

“It’s my ability.” He stepped in, and pivoted his hip as he delivered a hard, fast right to her midsection.

She swatted the punch away like an annoying gnat. Countering with a hook to his face, he went sprawling across the open expanse of the mall atrium to collide with the marble wall.

“OK.” He shook his head as he scrambled to his feet. “You’re faster than you look.”

“I’m a lot of things that I don’t look.”

The young man took the full body of Crag into his eyes. She was taller than he, well muscled, and he could see her feminine features.

“I’m not just a muscle bound clod good at knocking down doors and heavy lifting.” She leaned forward as she closed the distance between them. When she planted a hand on the ground, the young man stagger-stepped to the side. Crag completed her cartwheel and landed close enough to grab the plainly dressed hero. “I’m a lot smarter than people give me credit for.” She yanked up and grunted with the effort.

The young man didn’t budge.

“This right here, is where we are alike.” The hero reached out, grabbed bunches of Crag’s costume, flexed his knees and lifted. To finish the maneuver, he leaped into the air and spun, putting Crag’s body beneath him.

The boom echoed throughout the mall, shattering glass, knocking over planters, and setting off burglar alarms.

Crag looked into the masked eyes of the hero. “Copy cat.”

“Well, well, well. Brains to go with that brawn.” He locked his lips on hers. She struggled and then gave in and returned the kiss.

“I take it you aren’t going to let me go.”

“No. But I will visit.” The young man stood up as the police arrived. “There is no way I am letting you get away. You’re the first.”

Crag blushed as she stood up. Her long, unkempt hair covered her face and her smile.

The cops restrained Red Racer as she struggled to get away. Crag simply went peacefully.

The cop that stepped forward and took charge asked, “So you must be new and haven’t gotten your costume worked out.”

The young man looked at the floor then raised his head showing dazzling white teeth. “Sergeant, this is my costume. I wear this because I can. I’m KopyKat.” Shaking the police officer’s hand, KopyKat moved to the truck they stuck Crag in. He winked, then ran off.