Continued from Part Sixteen

A force far more powerful than the Human Muscle grabbed Commander Jus-tice and threw him down a spiraling vortex.

What had hit him?

Mystic screamed, “Get back where you belong!”

Commander Justice broke through the vortex. He hurtled from the sky on a collision course with a sulfuric sea of sand.

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Continued from Part Fifteen
Captain Justice tried to mouth. “I’m sorry,” to his grandson for getting him into this, but the words wouldn’t come.

“God,” he managed.

A light flashed in the room.

It couldn’t be.

But it was. Commander Justice, an avenging ghost, grabbed their attacker’s neck so tight that the Human Muscle’s grip began to loosen. Justice Junior kicked the Human Muscle in the stomach. Muscle released both Captain Justice and Junior.

“Dad!” Junior screamed. “Are you a ghost?”

Commander stared at his son and then glared at his father.  “I’ll explain this all as soon as I take out the trash.”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” The Human Muscle writhed in an effort to break Commander’s grip and elbowed him in the face. Commander popped like a bubble.

“Now, it’s just you two!” The Human Muscle shook his finger. “Play fair. No more phantoms.”

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Continued from Part Fourteen

In the vortex, Commander Justice fought Dark Mystic  through a transparent tunnel. Dark Mystic hovers towards the por-tal. Commander Justice’s furious fists pummeled Dark Mystic. “Sorry pal, you’re going to have a good night’s sleep.”

“No, you can’t defeat me. I’m the champion of hell.”

Commander Justice karate chopped Mystic’s exposed neck. Mystic crumpled beneath him like a cheap suit.

“Unfortunately, you chose to inhabit a human being I could beat the snot out of.”

Even with all the force of hell raging inside Mystic, a well-trained Justice could overpower the comparably-frail Mystic quite easily.

Commander Justice threw the uncon-scious Dark Mystic over his shoulders and entered a hall of two-way mirrors. Each showed a random place on Earth. He walk-ed past one house where the calendar read, “May.”

May? We left in December. We’ve been gone six months, but it only seems like six days.

If he tried to exit this thing, he wanted to be sure it was somewhere familiar. He didn’t want to end up in a hostile country.

He walked further down and stopped. The Human Muscle was choking his dad and a guy in a suit like theirs, but with “JR” rather than rank insignia on his head.

Commander slipped his hands in the transparent film and pushed on through.

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Continued from Part Thirteen:

Captain Justice and Commander Justice Jr. faced the Human Muscle in Jesse Miller’s hospital room.

The Human Muscle laughed. “Does the old folks home know you’re gone?”

Captain Justice smirked. Water off a duck’s back. “Muscle, I busted you thirty years ago. I’ll do it again.”

“Oh how I’ve missed our little battles. The Sword was so professional, so neat, always in a good camera angle for pictures he’d give the comic artists. You were just so …old school. I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

In a Wrestle-mania pitch, Commander Justice, Jr. said, “We’re gonna mess you up. Nobody messes with the Justice family.”

Captain Justice slapped his forehead.

The Human Muscle asked, “Who’s the chubby kid?”

“Junior, get the lady out. I’ll handle the Human Muscle.”

“But Grandpa—”

“Go!” This guy will have you for breakfast, and I’m not losing both of you.

The Human Muscle lunged at Captain Justice. Captain Justice jumped out of the way. “Still as agile as a freight train, I see.”

The Muscle ripped the headboard off the Hospital bed and threw it at Captain Justice.

Captain Justice watched it sail right past him and out the window.  “Look out below!” He turned back to the Human Muscle. “Nice aim.”

The Human Muscle ripped the bed frame apart and wielded half the frame like a baseball bat. He swung and scraped the wall paper. He swung again and hit a book shelf.

Captain Justice leapt at the Human Muscle. The Human Muscle grabbed him and spun Captain Justice around like a pro-wrestler. He got a grip on the other half of the bed frame and landed a solid blow to the Human Muscle’s back.

“Put Captain Justice down.”

“No problem, pee wee.” The Human Muscle flung Captain Justice at Junior.

 The impact sent them both sprawling to the ground. The Human Muscle picked up both heroes by the neck.

Captain Justice gasped for air. It felt like his whole chest was caving in.

“Let’s see who dies first.”

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Continued from Part Twelve

Small Packages grabbed Captain Revolution by his shoelaces and spun him in the air. Captain Revolution screamed. “Let go of me you comic fool. You’re ruining everything.”

“Huh?”

“Let me down and you’ll see.”

Small Packages dropped Captain Rev-olution, who stood up and whistled.

Tarantula King jumped Dark Mystic and bit his leg. Dark Mystic screamed and threw Tarantula King off. “I thought you were on our side.”

“There’s been a change in the line-up.”

“And a few players added,” Captain Revolution said.

Out of a cave on the opposite side of the Peninsula, emerged the Defender in a black trench coat instead of his white one, Revelator, Lord History, and Skyscraper, all none the worse for wear.

Small Packages ran to his brother.  “Bro, you had me scared.”

Skyscraper scooped Small Packages up and placed him in his pocket.

Small Packages said, “All right bro, let’s level them.”

Pantheon shouted, “This isn’t poss-ible! I killed Lord History and Defender. I remember hiding the bodies.”

“A drug induced false memory,” Cap-tain Revolution said. “I mixed up a cocktail, gave you a post-hypnotic suggestion, and made you believe you had killed them. And we were able to get Dark Mystic to believe they were dead too, and thus keep them safe.”

Pantheon laughed.

“Lady, you’re outnumbered hopeless-ly!” the Tarantula King said.

“One woman with the right power can do anything. Lightning bolt of Zeus!”

A lightning bolt zipped out of Panthe-on’s fingers and struck Tarantula King in the chest. Tarantula King fell limp.

The heroes all took cover behind rocks and boulders.

“Rocks won’t save you!” Pantheon fired a blast at one of them. “I’ll destroy you.” She laughed. “Starting with the one who spurned my love. Lightning Bolt of Zeus!” She fired another blast at the rock.

The Sword stood up behind where the rock had stood, his blade drawn.

“Your blade can’t defeat me.”

A short heroine in white face paint and a black shirt and black pants shoved the Sword aside.

Small Packages said to Skyscraper, “Is that who I think it is?”

Pantheon cracked up. “The Mine. The Mine goes against the almighty Pantheon.”

“Oh brother,” said Small Packages.

The Sword said, “Surrender now and you may survive.”

“I have no fear of the Mime!” Panthe-on pointed towards Mime’s steady advance. “Lightning bolt of Zeus!”

The Mime pressed her hands along the boundaries of an imaginary wall.

The lightning bolt dissipated.

Pantheon’s jaw dropped.

The Sword laughed. “You should have read her comic.”

Pantheon sneered. “Her shield won’t hold.”

She pointed her arms towards the Mime. “Lightning bolt of Zeus.”

The lightning bolt deflected.

“Lightning bolt of Zeus!”

The ray bounced back at Pantheon and knocked her flat on her rear end. The Mime advanced ever closer. The Sword and the other heroes joined the Mime behind the forcefield.

Pantheon ran to Dark Mystic. “Please, help me!”

The Dark Mystic loosed an inhuman laugh. “Help you! You will pay the price of failure. To the pit with you!”

The ground gave away beneath Pan-theon, who sank into the Earth. “Help!”

The Sword jumped on his blade and tapped it. “Blade, expand.”

The Blade expanded to surfboard-size, and the Sword rode to Pantheon, up to her waist in the sand. He reached, grabbed her glove, and pulled. “Skyscraper!”

Skyscraper stretched across the ex-panse and grabbed the Sword’s torso. Small Packages said, “Come on, bro, pull for all you’re worth.”

They pulled.

Almost up to her shoulders

And pulled.

Pantheon put her head back in an effort to keep her airways above the sand.

And pulled.

The Sword and Skyscraper fell back-wards as Pantheon disappeared from sight. The Sword stood up with Pantheon’s gloves in his hands.

The Dark Mystic laughed. “Never fear, your turn is coming.” He ascended in the air towards a portal above him.

“Hold on, pal!” Commander Justice leapt on Dark Mystic’s back. “Land now.”

“Never!” screamed Dark Mystic, throttling through the sky into the portal.

Dark Mystic and Commander Justice continued to struggle.

The portal closed behind them. Small Packages stared. “Commander!”

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Continued from Part Eleven

Sariah Miller sat beside her husband’s empty hospital bed. “Jesse, what would you do?”

“How touchingly melodramatic,” a raspy voice said.

Sariah turned. The Human Muscle stood in the door, a whole 600 pounds of bone-crushing power. His emblem, a large bicep, flexed on his red spandex leotard.

Sariah stood. “How did you get in?”

“Oh please. I’m the Human Muscle. How do you think?” He threw two pieces of twisted metal on the floor. “Those used to be guns.”

“What do you want?”

“I have what I want. The Sword’s secret identity. I became suspicious when I read about Jesse Miller having a heart at-tack and going into a coma. Jesse Miller having a heart attack? The picture of good health? Didn’t seem believable. I asked my-self, what really happened? And then I real-ized what a perfect illusion he had. Miller was agent to every costumed hero on the planet. Who better to be their leader? And competing with himself for your affections, what better way to throw his enemies off?”

“What do you want?”

The Human Muscle clinched his fist. “To make the Sword suffer. To destroy him and so avenge the years I spent in that rat-hole.”

“Too late. He’s dead.”

“And you can rest assured Mystic will pay for what he’s robbed me of, but mean-while, I’ll take what I can. I know quite a few who’d pay handsomely for the oppor-tunity to extract the price of meddling from the Sword’s family. Who should I sell your secret to? A kidnaper who will raise your son to be a villain? A sex offender? Or a serial killer?”

“Leave my baby alone!”

“Well, there’s one way you could save him. Kill the Sword.”

Sariah laughed. “How can you kill a man twice?”

“When he’s still alive in a comic book. Kill the Sword off and give me the honor.”

Sariah stopped laughing.

Human Muscle continued, “Further, I want my own comic book to cover my heroic exploits. Advertise me as the new Payday.”

“It’d be a worse betrayal to Jesse than actually killing him.”

“Darling, you leave me no choice.” The lumbering pile of muscle stepped to-wards her. He moved closer. Closer.

Close enough.

Sariah yanked pepper spray from her pocket, sprayed it in his eyes, and dashed for the door. The Human Muscle pulled a spray from his belt pouch and sprayed it in his eyes.

Almost there.

A green knee-high boot kicked the door open.

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Continued from Part Ten

The Sword tapped his blade on the yellow sand as the entire surviving pop-ulation of the hero colony stood at the pen-insula five miles from camp. “All right, Revolution, you told us that you and Pan-theon had figured out where everyone had disappeared to. So let’s have it.”

“Tarantula King, come here,” Captain Revolution said.

The man mutated into a giant six-armed spider joined Captain Revolution and Pantheon. 

Captain Revolution said, “It’s quite simple. We made them disappear.”

The Dark Mystic flew out of a nearby cave entrance. “And we shall make you all disappear now that your strongest members are gone.”

A bullet whizzed through the air and hit Dark Mystic in the arm.

“Not if we can help it,” cried the big voice of the Guild’s littlest member.

The Sword grinned. “Small Packages! I was afraid you were dead.”

Dark Mystic growled. “I thought you were. But you’ll all be dead soon.”

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Continued from Part Nine

The motorcycle sputtered and died.

It’d been a few days since DJ had completed his hero basic training and to show him he was part of the team, Captain Justice had decided to let DJ pick out their vehicle.

Big mistake.

Captain Justice said, “Okay, I’m tak-ing this back to the dealership.”

Commander Justice, Jr. whined from the sidecar. “But this is good for the earth, Grandpa. It is a fully electric motorcycle.”

“Yes, and it runs out of battery life every fifty miles.”

“We just need to find a plug-in.”

Captain Justice stared at Junior. “Have you ever been in a high speed chase?”

“No.”

“The crooks don’t let you stop and recharge. This is not a comic book. I am not looking for our version of kryptonite. Soon as we get back to New York, we’re trading this is for a good old fashioned petrol vehicle. Now let’s find a plug.”

Junior coughed. “The air stinks. New York smells much better than Pittsburgh.”

“You should’ve been a rose gardener if you cared about smell. If we’re going to fill in for every lost superhero, we’ve got to visit some of their cities.”

“Hey, there’s a plug by that street light.”

They pushed the motorcycle to the street light and plugged it in.

Junior rubbed together his navy blue gloves. “Now, we just wait six minutes, and we’ll be ready to roll again.”

“Another thing that crooks won’t let you do in a high speed chase.”

“I know what type of car you want.” Junior pointed across the street to a red 1970 Pontiac GTO parked in front of the hospital. “You want a muscle car like you and the Admiral drove back in the ‘70s.”

Captain Justice stared at the flexed muscle hood ornament on the Pontiac and raced for the hospital. “We don’t have a moment to lose.”

Junior dashed after him. “What is it?”

“I’ll explain on the way up.”

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Continued from Part Eight

An acrid burning scent prodded Small Packages. “Is this Hell or just purgatory?”

“Neither,” a feminine voice replied.

Small Packages opened his eyes. Across from him sat that maniac Payday tied up.  The Empress stood over a campfire roasting a spit of Proto-cabbage, the one edible plant on this rock.

Small Packages rubbed his eyes. “Empress, what am I doing here?”

“I brought you after those three left.”

“Oh. Guess Captain Revolution’s pres-sure points weren’t as good as he thought.”

The Empress laughed. “No, he let you live. If he’d wanted you dead, that wouldn’t be a problem for him.”

“Why are you sticking up for him? You’re not his biggest fan.”

“No, but I can’t deny reality.”

Small Packages looked over at the tied-up psychopath. “What’s Payday doing here?”

 “He tried to hang himself. I cut him down and tied him up so he couldn’t try again.”

Small Packages stared at Payday. “You, commit suicide? Why?”

Payday shrugged. “I told the lady if she knew me, she’d help me die, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Oooh-kay,” said Small Packages.

The Empress shook her head. “He’s not the only one acting peculiar. I’ve been feeling very different since I came here. In Japan, I’m known for my virtue, but it’s been much harder here.”

“Now, that you mentioned it, Sky-scraper and I have thought about trying to kill Payday, but we never tried it until we got here. It’s as if this place is bringing out the worst in us.” Small Packages paused. “Why didn’t Captain Revolution kill me?”

“I’ve been wandering the woods ever since Defender disappeared, and I’ve seen things that indicate there’s a larger plan. This camp is only a short distance from the Peninsula. I think we can rush in behind them when they lure the others here.”

Small Packages arched an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t we warn the others?”

“Sometimes, you’ve got to let the game play out.”

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Continued from Part Seven

“History!” Small Packages shouted in the woods. He could only see three feet ahead of him. The search party trudged through the fog. “Commander Justice, do you see anything?”

“No! Zion?”

 “Negative! With fog this dense, we could wander around forever and never find him.”

Commander Justice sighed. “All right, let’s get back to camp. We’ll search more in the morning.”

“Come on, bro.” Small Packages turned around looking for his seven foot tall brother. “Bro?”

Captain Zion shouted, “Come here, I found something!”

“Where’s here?”

A light came on in the forest.

Small Packages raced to the cigarette lighter’s gleam. Captain Zion and Comman-der Justice stood over Skyscraper’s over-alls. Small Packages screamed. “No!”

Captain Zion said, “Seems they snuck in, killed him in the fog, and took away the body.”

But took his pants off first? Small Packages sniffed them. Skyscraper hadn’t been killed here.

“What are you doing?” Commander Justice asked.

“Looking for evidence. They couldn’t have got out. This happened within the last few minutes.” Small Packages grabbed a six inch twig off the ground. “Zion, give me a light.”

“We can’t go on.” Commander Justice said. “We can barely maneuver without running into something.”

“Wrong, you can barely maneuver. The fog’s not as dense at my height.  If I don’t have to worry about you guys, I can go fine.”

“I’m not letting you go in alone.”

Captain Zion knelt down and lit the stick. “Shalom, little brother.”

Small Packages smiled. “Shalom, Zion. Thanks for understanding.”

Small Packages raced through the forest dodging trees, he stopped at a giant’s footprint. A size 8 ½ women’s boot.

It wasn’t the Impress, Data Bank, or the Mime. Their feet were way too small to wear that size. Elephant Woman’s exo-skeleton left bi-pedal elephant tracks. Speed Skater might be about this size, but her boots had a lot of tread and the tracks didn’t. That left only one person with the right size and type of shoe that could have made this track.

Pantheon.

Small Packages followed the tracks.

 It’s funny how Walt never worked my ability to identify shoe tracks by sight into any of the comics. Guess they didn’t think it was a very exciting power.

Pantheon shouted, “You and your theatrics! You’ve put that little idiot right on our trail.”

“I’m not the one who used a signa-ture arrow to shoot Revelator. Hmm. Who did that? Oh yes.  That would be you.”

Captain Revolution. He’d pegged this right the whole way. The two of them were in cahoots.

A whoosh spliced through the forest. Dark Mystic landed behind the two. “Are all of them out of the way, finally?”

“I took care of Skyscraper,” Captain Revolution said.

“Splendid.” Dark Mystic frowned. “Do you see that light?”

“What light?”

Uh oh.

Small Packages extinguished the torch and dashed through the forest. He had to get back to camp and warn the others.

Flame flew over his head and through the fog. Dark Mystic looked to be aiming for Small Packages flambé.

Normal giants would be no problem in this weather, but no weather suited taking on one Demon-possessed madman and two genetically engineered superfreaks.

A pink gloved hand reached towards him and Small Packages sped up.

“You cannot escape me!” Pantheon shouted. “I am Artemis the huntress.”

Tree branches broke above him in the distance. Crack, crack, crack.

Captain Revolution jumped out in front of him. Small Packages took a sharp curve. Captain Revolution lunged for him, but missed. Like Tom vs. Jerry here.

Small Packages raced through the trees. Dark Mystic appeared in front of him. He turned. Pantheon was to the side with Captain Revolution closing in.

Only one thing to do. Fight.

He grabbed Pantheon by the boot and picked her up.

“What are you doing, you vermin?”

He tossed her into Dark Mystic, who threw her back at Small Packages. He ducked.

A red glove grabbed him. Small Pack-ages struggled against the hand, but it might as well have been made of titanium. All he was doing was wearing himself out.

Captain Revolution smiled. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Pressure points are a fine oriental art that you will appreciate.” He turned to Mystic and Pantheon. “No one will come here before we lead the rest to the Peninsula. We can leave his body like a dead rat.”

No! It couldn’t end this way.

The nimble hands applied pressure to the back of Small Packages neck.

Fade to black.

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