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HK Lune
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“Clockpunk and the Vitalizer” draws from the Irish legend Táin Bó Cúailnge, also known as The Cattle Raid of Cooley. I originally planned to use another Irish myth as inspiration, but the Táin’s themes of greed, sacrifice, and heroism made it too good to pass up. Despite trading a queen for a supervillain and a cow for a superweapon – not to mention a mighty hero for a heroine way in over her head – I hope readers enjoy the story this iconic tale inspired.
~~~
Usually she was just Dolores Veta Garza, exhibit designer at the Cooley Museum of Art and everyday citizen of the mountainside city. She spent most of her time alone, enjoyed her work, and had plenty of time for her hobbies. Her family lived a few short hours away, and while Cooley had its problems, Dolores made a comfortable living within its borders.
When the time came to protect the city, though, she became Clockpunk! Defender of Cooley, Time Jumper/Slower! Beloved hero and superperson! With a black and silver suit fashioned by Dr. Awesome himself, two silver gears “jutting” from her back, Clockpunk kept evil great and small at bay. Her identity hidden safely behind a one-way visor covering her eyes and hoodie over her head, she feared no one and protected everyone.
Well, at least that’s how it started. Being the newest superhero in the seven-state region came with a lot of different requirements, not least of all execution. Dolores needed to prove her grit to the others, the more experienced heroes busy defending their own home cities. She had every intention of doing so as she sat in traffic, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to keep herself composed. Did I lock up my office? Is the curator’s new assistant cleaning up the old weapons corner tonight? The museum wasn’t the real problem, of course. Nor were the glassy skyscrapers and frantic people rushing past her as her car stood nearly still. Remember: seven seconds of slowdown, seven seconds of future sight. Everyone knows. Ha, ha. Even The Vitalizer knows...
The news came earlier while she drew out floor plans for a new exhibit: hated supervillain The Vitalizer had entered the city. Dolores knew why: he wanted the Bull, a weapon only known to Dr. Awesome and its other builders. He nearly destroyed two other cities over the weekend for whatever the weapon was, and while Dolores didn’t think it was in Cooley, she couldn’t let him waltz in and trash the place to find out. He’s just as crazy and has the same exact powers as last time, Dolores thought as she crept closer to downtown. Be smart about your powers, because he’ll be waiting for you to slip up. The real problem is whether you can keep it together and not act like a damn loser again. Every single time with you—it’s a good thing he isn’t quite in a killing mood.
As she moved closer to his location, she took deep breaths. Dolores had a little...problem about this whole affair. She casted her gaze to her dashboard, the streets, the people, but the sunny city gave her no relief. The Vitalizer wasn’t far.
Dolores took the nearest turn and headed down a tiny street devoid of life. She parked behind a hardware store; only screams further into the city met her ears. Regular clothes off, she dug her mask out of the trunk and headed off.
Dr. Awesome has that helicopter, she complained as she froze time in seven-second gaps, quickening her run. Bloodwoman gets the tricked-out muscle car. I get to run, and I’m not even that great a runner. People’s screams blurred into formless howls in between the seven seconds of slowdown and charge-up. Their panic lost all its energy. All Dolores knew was that she’d be exhausted by the time she reached her opponent.
Before long, past restaurants and insurance centers, she could spot The Vitalizer floating high up, ripping up sidewalks or something below. She tried not to stare at him—the thought of him spotting her pumped jitters into her legs.
She slowed down time twice more while she hid behind an acrid dumpster and wiped away the sweat on her chin. The city needed her ASAP.
Once she regained some of her breath, Dolores peeked out into the four-way intersection over which The Vitalizer hovered. Citizens scrambled behind cars and into storefronts as he watched cement and asphalt tear itself apart before flying everywhere. If only one of the other heroes could swing by...This is going to be ridiculous...
With him in midair, Dolores pulled out the Kick-Gun Dr. Awesome had given her. It was weak enough to not kill its target, but still packed a decent...kick. She slowed down time again and sprinted into the street.
There he drifted, arms crossed, staring down at his disarray. Dolores had him right in line with the muzzle of her gun. The Vitalizer’s slo-mo laughter echoed all around the trees and cars flinging themselves back and forth. That was his power, after all: anything inanimate (plus the occasional plant) close enough came to “life” at his command, acting upon his discretion. The Vitalizer left little but chaos in his wake every time he attacked something, and Cooley suffered the same. He was the bane of every superhero in a 350-mile radius. He stopped at nothing in the wake of his greed. He
was
the
most gorgeous creature Dolores had ever seen! That black longcoat! That evil-smiled metallic mask! That laugh! That charm! Just the sight of him made her knees weak. She lost control little by little every time they’d met for battle, no matter where they met or when. Even now it took her half the seven seconds to fire.
The effect of the little projectiles wouldn’t take real form until the slowdown ended; when it did, The Vitalizer lurched back from the force and fell halfway to the ground. Dolores kept the Kick-Gun pointed his way, even when he finally gave her the attention she so feared and desired. “So we meet again, Clockpunk,” he called to her in that rich, perfect voice. “Took you a while to get here.”
She felt her cheeks light up. “Uh, y-your destruction comes to an end here, Vitalizer! The Bull isn’t here, so search elsewhere before I have to kick your ass!”
Ohhhhh, no. Look at the way the sunbeams fall behind him. Damn, he’s pretty. “You get less and less composed every time,” the Vitalizer remarked, aware of her discomfort—though probably not aware of where it sourced. “Traffic got you unsettled today? It’s a shame those ‘associates’ of yours are barely more competent. Oh, well. The answer’s no!” He whipped his hand to the left; five cars rushed towards her.
Dolores slowed things down and then tapped into her other gift, future sight. Focusing on her enemy still suspended in the air, she caught a vision of him about to tear up the street just a bit in front of him. That is, where she’d run after dodging the cars. She only had seven seconds for these sights, as well, so she ran backwards and fired at him again.
Just one of the shots hit him, somewhere in the upper arm. The ground nonetheless tore up beyond her, cracks and chunks of asphalt appearing where they weren’t seconds earlier. He’d misjudged, but The Vitalizer rebounded with a storm of the same asphalt flying her way. Dolores slowed down time and removed herself from the assault; out of harm’s way, she fired as many times as the Kick-Gun allowed. The step-by-step process of these battles didn’t escape her, and she thought, This is how it is. Each sequence is seconds long: seven slow, seven normal, and repeat. Different day, same routine. At least it elongates the time I get to f—
“Come now, Clockpunk!” the Vitalizer called as the slowdown came to an end. Cars behind her roared to life. “Are we going to spend the whole afternoon playing games? Tell me where the Bull is!”
“It’s not here!” she replied as she took to the sidewalk, running ahead of the vehicles charging after her. “Let’s be reasonable, shall we, Vitalizer? Continue your search where the thing might actually be. Leave Cooley at peace.”
He started laughing again. Despite being one of those villainous, ridiculous, boisterous things that nobody took seriously, it sent lightning through Dolores’s limbs. She wanted to put it on repeat as much as she wanted to shove her fist into his ribcage. “Sweet, stupid Clockpunk,” the Vitalizer cooed, “why the hell should I believe you? You hero types will say anything to get rid of me.” Trees along the path uprooted themselves. A falling streetlight missed Dolores by inches. “I’ll ascertain where the Bull is for myself, thank you.”
Ugh. She saw into the future and caught them both having not moved much. I need to get him out of the air, or at least lead him from the main streets. How many pellets do I have left? Dolores slowed everything down to check the Kick-Gun’s magazine. Not much.
She spared a glance across the street and noticed how close The Vitalizer hovered to a ten-story hotel. Glass walls decorated each floor, so if she could get to a high-enough floor in good time...“What’s ticking along in that head of yours?” the Vitalizer shouted from above a set of six palm trees. Another seven seconds gone. “Thinking of ways to stall?”
“Nope.” Dolores bolted back the way she came, headed for the flock of mindless vehicles, and cut across the pavement. He has to know I’m running low. Dr. Awesome seriously has to give me more to work with, lest this...this ne’er-do-well pound me into the concrete.
Hm. Not the best choice of words.
The Vitalizer started to say something, but Dolores didn’t hear it as she booked into the hotel's front doors. He had to know what she might plan from this, so she had to act fast. Into the nearest elevator she sprinted, past gold-tile floors and plush pink sofas that’d be trash if the supervillain caught her.
She guessed his approximate height in the air and jammed her fingers on the Floor Four button. Then she leaned against the dark wood panels of the chamber as the doors closed, soft electro-pop playing overhead. “Well, this is horrible,” she muttered as she shook her legs. Sweat collected underneath her protective suit, and while there wasn’t any blood lost, Dolores wanted to drop on the elevator floor for a good three hours. Why can’t I have super strength, or fly, or breathe acid, or something more active? It’s all a roulette, and it sucks. I’m beat, but The Vitalizer’s been in the same place since I got here.
No more time to complain, though. An LED number display pinged when “4” showed up. I hope I’m not far from the wall.
When the doors split open, Dolores mustered all her strength into running at the glass across the hallway. Blue carpet and beige walls faded past her eyes, her vision myopic—the man in black outside, the bright blue and gray surrounding him, were all that mattered.
She put her arms up as the glass came close. The world decelerated around her. Head down, but focus on point, she crashed through a cloud of glittering shards.
Unfortunately for her, shards had nothing on The Vitalizer. When she pulled out her fist, thinking herself secure in her superpower, time ran out. A palm tree to her side struck her like a baseball into the ground.
Thunderous force smothered half her body in pain, the other half scraping against concrete that left cuts on her suit and skin. Dolores let out a cry—she hadn’t been hit this hard in, well, ever. “So predictable,” the Vitalizer said, now inches above the street. Blinking light circled the fighting pair, Dolores too overwhelmed to notice the cars themselves. “Your kind always is. One last time, Clockpunk: where’s the Bull?”
She couldn’t answer, save for with tears and sharp breaths. Her back felt like it might shatter, even with the suit’s protection. “Considering that I’ve given you a good beating,” the Vitalizer remarked, “take a moment to answer. You aren’t getting any safer.”
Dolores cracked an eye open. Even as The Vitalizer stood over her, having put her in this spot, few spots looked sweeter in Cooley...
A blast of blue-white fire plumed behind them both. Beyond the smoke, the blades of a helicopter hummed. The Vitalizer sighed. “Well, there are your buddies. I’m not interested in a four-way, so until later, Clockpunk—that Bull still needs finding!” He took to gliding down the street, out of Dolores’s weak sight. Getting up to thank the other superheroes for intervening was out of the question.
Staying awake, as she discovered in the next minute, also proved too strenuous.
~~~
Next thing she knew, Dolores stared up at a dark wall. A computer on a shelf hummed nearby, its screen light revealing a table populated by three other bodies. Wherever the door was, she couldn’t make it out.
Bloodwoman, Dr. Awesome, and Purple Quetzal stood staring at a remote on the table. The rest of the room, metal walls enclosing dusty floors, lay empty. Superheroes to the rescue, Dolores thought while she regained her senses. How long have I been out? I should really carry a watch, being “Clockpunk” and all...
“¿Está despierta usted?” Purple Quetzal asked without looking her way.
“I told you I didn’t speak any Spanish,” Bloodwoman said instead.
“S...Sí,” Dolores, the actual intended, said. She breathed in, ready to be reamed out for her failure by the others.
When she tried to sit up, fresh pain attacking her torso, Dr. Awesome walked around and pressed her back down. She realized she lay in a stretcher, but she didn’t care where it came from or why they had it here. “You’re pretty banged up, Clockpunk,” he said. “I don’t want to say your back is bruised to hell, but...it’s bruised to hell. Fortunately the rest of you seems all right. No major breaks or anything. I’m guessing the painkillers haven’t kicked in?”
“Not really, sir,” Dolores snuck out of her mouth.
“I half-expected The Vitalizer to go for the kill,” he continued. “Bloodwoman, Purple Quetzal, and I couldn’t have been defeated so easily, you understand, but it’s good that you made it out alive. Not that The Vitalizer’s gone to killing lengths, of course.”
“He might for...for the Bull.”
Dr. Awesome and Purple Quetzal nodded. Bloodwoman said, “Then we’re in some shit. The Bull is here.”
“What?” Dolores’s eyes popped open. “Since when?”
“It hasn’t been long, but it’s been on a bit of tour lately in order to keep it safe. It’s a matter of circumstance that our cow coincided with a jackass.”
“Can’t we smuggle it out? Like, before the Vitalizer gets to it?”
“Kind of hard to do when he’s scrawling all over the city for clues. If we try moving it, who knows what’ll get destroyed if things go awry.”
Dolores slowly raised her hands to her cheeks. Well, this got waaaay worse. My city’s getting ripped to shreds, and here I am with a bad back. “See for yourself,” Purple Quetzal said, interrupting her thoughts. “The computer screen.”
Dolores turned her head to the monitor. With its light so glaring, she took a moment to focus. Dr. Awesome turned the volume up in the meantime. “...the current situation being of The Vitalizer trashing MacGuinness Park in search of what Dr. Awesome referred to as ‘The Bull,’” a blonde-haired news anchor stated behind her desk. In the corner of the screen, a blue-orange sunset curled over a park trail; downed branches lay scattered everywhere in view. “Authorities believe Clockpunk, or perhaps other superheroes, are on the way; at the rate the madman is uprooting trees and dismantling park fixtures, though, they need to be here yesterday.”
The camera zoomed in on The Vitalizer sending two benches across a patch of grass to smash a small information booth. Someone recorded the vent from their phone several yards away, so The Vitalizer sent the benches at the kid next. Dolores felt sick watching it.
Then the criminal turned slowly towards the news camera. Hoodied and smiling as ever from the mask, he shamed Dolores into biting her lip without ever knowing his influence. “It’s well-known how to identify The Vitalizer by his getup,” the reporter said, “but if anyone has tips as to his alter ego, please alert authorities immediately by the number on-screen.” 552-1838 on a black strip. Above the strip, people screamed for salvation.
Dolores turned away from the computer. Dr. Awesome turned the volume down and said, “We’re thinking of some other diversion to get the Bull out of here, Clockpunk. The Vitalizer’s looking in the wrong spot...for now.”
“Clockpunk could make a great diversion,” Purple Quetzal said. “Send her back out.”
“The Vitalizer will make quick work of her in this state,” Bloodwoman replied. “Have those painkillers even started to work, kiddo?”
“I guess.” Dolores stared back up at the wall. “You said no major damage, Dr. Awesome?”
“That’s right.”
She nodded as the other three discussed some possible options. All she knew was this: she said she’d protect Cooley, yet here she reclined with no idea where she was and Cooley under serious attack. In the three months since she took up the mantle of Clockpunk, Dolores realized she hadn’t done any real saving. She didn’t have any special gifts well-suited for this kind of work; she survived off the help of the people standing around her. Help’s all fine and well, she thought, but what happens when they can’t come? Are we doomed?
On the second level of the shelf rested the gears usually attached to her back. Silver with black edges, the accessories were a gift from Bloodwoman to tie the suit theme together. She and the men didn’t need themes or anything. Dr. Awesome had been a Navy physician and could conjure up the hottest fire; Purple Quetzal’s resplendent armor reflected his light control; Bloodwoman wore red, for when she inflicted control over criminals’ self-control, forced bloodletting was a favorite tactic. Clockpunk needed something more to tie it all together, but so far the look didn’t quite do it.
So Dolores relaxed against the stretcher to fill the void. A crisis still stormed in the city. “What are we doing right now?” she said, although she didn’t expect an answer.
“Besides trying to move the Bull?” Purple Quetzal said. “Nothing yet.”
All right, Dolores said while she folded her hands. Perhaps they’re better left to stew over this. I have no clue what the thing is, and I know Cooley the best out of this group. Bloodwoman suggested a “civilian vehicle,” only for Dr. Awesome to say that the Bull wouldn’t fit. If anyone needs to be up there...it needs to be...this girl!
She slowed time in a sequence: seven slow, seven normal, for a total of three minutes. Despite not being much, it allowed her extra room for brainstorming. The computer’s constant light alone kept her company through the stiller time, the voices of her compatriots too slow to register in full. Now, we know The Vitalizer’s wrecking everything. We know the Bull needs to go. It’s apparent a distraction would be a decent bet. Me going out to fight him won’t be effective, given the shape I’m in; it appears that my “coworkers” won’t be heading to battle. Hmph.
During one of the lapses in her power, she watched Dr. Awesome try – and fail – to sell the other two on giving The Vitalizer a fake location. The Vitalizer isn’t an idiot, so no. Frick me, he’s cute. I can only wonder if he meant to put together the image he has instead of just cobbling together whatever worked. Either way, he’s got good stuff going on.
He mauled me, though. I’m lucky my spine didn’t snap and kill me. I should hate him, hate him, for all this. Maybe I’d feel better giving him a swift kick up the ass...
Wait. Time resumed as normal. Wait, there’s an idea.
“Doctor?” Dolores said.
“Yes, Clockpunk?” he answered.
“I have something.”
“What do you have?”
~~~
Cooley stretched ahead like a disappearing act, the surviving streetlights waning as the roads fled into darkness. Not even the crescent moon did much to illuminate Dolores’s way, scattered with chunks of metal and asphalt from one end of the way to the other. Car horns sounded elsewhere; nobody wanted to be here anymore, and she didn’t blame them. She hardly wanted to be back aboveground at all.
The super team of superhero superbuddies planted a camera on her waist, streaming whatever might happen next to a storage room below a parking garage. They probably saw complete darkness as she jogged along the way. Her bones felt heavy, her muscles dull with ache, but life went on. No rest for the weary, she thought.
She could just make out the Cooley Museum of Art’s light beams several miles out and up a rocky hill. What with The Vitalizer not being an idiot, it made sense that he’d head there; the museum stored all sorts of things, so why couldn’t it house a secret weapon?
According to Dr. Awesome, The Vitalizer traveled this route going on six minutes ahead of Clockpunk’s return to the surface. He moved faster than her, but Bloodwoman started arranging a news bulletin about Dolores being out and about—he might fancy “toying” with the superheroine again. She hoped so. I bet he would if he liked me, she thought as she forced her legs forward. Or maybe not, depending on the Bull’s allure. Since this is reality, it doesn’t seem like anything matters to him besides the damn thing. Who knows what he’d do upon getting it? Supervillain greed, ha ha. Ugh...
Dolores heard smashing noises ahead. Oh, crap, that can’t be anyone else. Here’s hoping he falls for it...
“Hey, Vitalizer!” she shouted.
A hot dog cart whizzed past her head from the black. Yep. There’s my man. “Is that you, dear Clockpunk?” he yelled back.
A lone streetlight cast white curves against his longcoat after a few seconds. He skulked closer in the slowest of power, ready for a beatdown—dark, cool, badass, and oblivious. How could he realize she’d left her Kick-Gun behind, or that the Bull might be in his hands before long? “Am I wrong in presuming Dr. Awesome gave you something to put you back on your feet?” he asked her.
“You’re correct,” she answered.
“How nice. I’d hoped you wouldn’t be back to distract me for at least a week.”
“Yeah, uh, you hoped wrong.”
“If you are, for whatever reason, trying to stop me, let’s get this over with.” A couple of crickets chirped somewhere as The Vitalizer rolled his neck. Dolores thought of Cooley’s people, either on the outskirts or outside the city in fear of their lives, lest she get distracted by her enemy’s appeal. Why did he have to be hot?
“I’m not here to fight you,” she said. “I’m here to bring the destruction to an end.”
“One thing kind of leads to the other.”
“They don’t have to.” She put her hands up. “I surrender.”
“Okay.” The Vitalizer turned around to leave.
Dolores chuckled, hoping it sounded real. “You don’t get it, do you?”
“I don’t care.”
“If I told you where the Bull was, would you stop terrorizing Cooley?”
That made him snap back. “That might persuade me.”
“So long as you leave Cooley alone, we’re good.”
He stared at her for a while. To her slight indulgence, she entered one slowdown to make it last longer. At last, he said, “Don’t ever say ‘we’re good’ again. However...” The Vitalizer crossed his arms. “Give me the Bull, and I’ll relent. I didn’t come all this way to goof around.”
This is what you consider “goofing around”? Damn. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Dolores put her hands down. “It’s me. I’m the Bull.”
The Vitalizer stared longer, arms drifting to his sides. “No.”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Then, “You’re just using that as a ploy to get me out of Cooley.”
“I wish it was.” It totally is. It couldn’t be ploy-ier. “I have to protect this city, and if surrendering myself is what it takes...” She slowed time again to sort her words. “I’ll go with no regret.”
She didn’t know whether he believed her, so she stood still in wait of a response. Good thing slowdowns are not in his repertoire. He could come up with a million different scenarios; on the field, though, he knows the moment could be gone with a snap of my fingers. The pressure’s on.
The Vitalizer put his hands on his hips, cocking them ever so slightly. Clockpunk thought her cheeks might burn bright enough for him to see. “No shit?” he asked.
“Would I come out here without my gun if I was shitting you?”
“Well, when you put it that way, this makes it all the easier!” The one streetlight near them went out before slamming the ground before her; as her sight plunged into blackness, metal squealed against blacktop before wringing itself around her chest. She stifled a scream—the painkillers weren’t perfect. She stifled even harder when the ache and the weight of the streetlight pulled her down. This is overkill! Holy—
Once the screeching frame made its last revolution around her, Dolores heard something that made it worse. The camera on her waist snapped in half like a bitch. Combined with the pole’s weight, she thought maaaaybe she was doomed.
Plastered in place, she had no choice but to wait for The Vitalizer to walk over. Is this what an animal being constricted to death by a boa feels like? I need space. I can’t move. “One more thing, Clockpunk,” the Vitalizer said. A wave of his hand brought the twisted pole – and Dolores – a few inches from his head. Face to face. “In light of your...status, if you try anything, you’ll watch Cooley burn into rubble. Understood?”
“I got it,” she said after a wheeze.
He took her chin in his hand, turned her head left and right, and let go. She didn’t know what to make of it. “Off with you, then,” he said, and Dolores went flying (yelling) into the air. He followed suit, and they shot off into the night.
~~~
Dolores got nothing out of him—where he planned to take her, what he’d do next, or whether he had some sort of schedule for the next chain of events. Not that she had the nerves (or breath) to ask. The other superheroes out of the loop, Dolores possessed nothing short of her wits for this.
The Vitalizer found a ten-story condo building and picked an apartment on the highest floor. Went through the balcony’s sliding door no problem. Dumping Dolores in the corner of the living room, he nodded at a computer against the wall and waited for it to respond to his control.
While he did that, she looked around. Despite the lack of lighting, Cooley’s skyline allowed her a view of white carpet and blanched walls through the glass leading to the balcony. A white sofa faced a wall-mounted TV; behind those stood black shelves lined with indistinguishable trinkets. Art of wine bottles served as decoration. It might've been cozy if Dolores hadn't been kidnapped. Her stomach growled.
Wonderful. I have no clue what's happening outside, and neither do my cohorts! She folded her legs before they got stiff. I really hope they’re moving the Bull faster than The Vitalizer does whatever he’s doing. Even if he catches on, he’s gotten me out of the way...
Her stomach grumbled again. “Hungry?” the Vitalizer asked. With the computer presumably functioning to his pleasure, he turned the TV on next.
“Sort of.”
He crossed the living room and disappeared behind a door. Dolores guessed it led to the kitchen. Is he grabbing me something from the fridge? That’s so sweet! I mean, I’m sure he wouldn’t want “The Bull” to starve, but it’s not like it’s been weeks or anything. What a gentleman! He’s so pure and—
The Vitalizer came back with something soft. “I hope you like donuts,” he said and left the chocolate-covered pastry floating right next to her mouth.
“I love donuts,” she said and took a bite. Eeeee! He got me a donut! I’m so glad his superpower isn’t mind-re—Oh. What if he can?
He nodded and turned the TV volume up. She heard the news reporting on their little flight, though trackers lost them after a few moments. Dolores wouldn’t care unless they offered an update on the Bull, which would either mean the plan worked or the news blew her cover. Since neither happened, she took another bite and wondered about her captor. Was he hungry? Not hungry, too hyped up on this heist to care? Did he expect Cooley to offer money for her return? When was he going to take off that coat and/or hoodie? Mmmm.
Three fourths through the donut, she got bored. Her bound arms and back hurt. Surely The Vitalizer didn't just plan on watching the tube all night. “Part of your powers lets you make things levitate?” she ventured to ask, since fighting was out of the question. Talking could buy her decent time.
Not that she didn't want to hear his voice, of course.
“It does,” he said as the news glared off his clothes and mask.
“Ha. That’s pretty cool.” Now why did you say that? He’s going to think you’re some weak superhero loser impressed by any stupid thing! He’ll think you’re trying to schmooze him up! You damn nerd...
The Vitalizer turned away from the TV but rested his gaze on the floor instead of her. “The real question is, Clockpunk, what are your powers as the Bull?”
“That’s classified.” Dolores slowed down time, her heart thumping against her ribcage. Am I playing this too close to the chest? Too close to the fire? She finished the donut. Time resumed.
“Ahhh. I guess that was the wrong question.” The news reported on the mass exodus happening on the western end of Cooley. When The Vitalizer lost interest in the stream and faced her, her heart pounded faster. “What matters here is how we activate and use them.”
He walked over and squatted a foot away from her, that electric smile even more menacing in the gloom. Well, half-menacing, half-pleasurable. She felt hot everywhere, her blood alive and heavy, and couldn’t look straight at him. At least he couldn’t tell with her face mask. “Admittedly,” he said, “this could all be a ruse. I thought about that. You might not be the Bull; you might be the Bull and destroy my prospects.” He put his thumb and index finger on her chin. She couldn’t breathe. “Let’s have a look at your powers.”
“I, uh, really wouldn’t. This condo might not be able to handle it.”
“This isn’t my condo, so that’s irrelevant.”
Maybe now is the time I should start looking for a way to escape...Dolores couldn’t see past The Vitalizer’s head, though, which didn’t give her much to work with. But what works against this guy? What angle will trip him up? Nothing came to mind. Bartering? Intimidation? (Yeah, okay.) Payment?
...Flirtation?
“I hope you aren’t stalling,” the Vitalizer said before she had anything at disposal. “I will beat your powers out of you if the need arises.”
“It’s...”
“Come out with it, Clockpunk.” The Vitalizer dropped his hand; the metal around her tightened. Dolores winced. “The way I see it, I’ll either have the Bull or one less superhero bothering me. If not one, the other will do.”
Come on come on COME ON. You’re going to be pinched into two pieces!
“W-Well...” she started.
“What?”
Dolores sighed. At the end edge of her sigh, she slowed time again. Something that’ll take time. I need t—I know. When time carried on, she bit her lip.
Looked right at The Vitalizer.
“I need to be in a...certain frame of mind for it to work.”
“And what frame is that?”
“One I get from being with other superheroes, not from being tied up: calm.” She allowed herself a little grin for coming up with something so clever. “Much as it breaks my heart to say, I’m not getting that sensation here.”
The Vitalizer stared at her. It started to creep her out, insofar as she wasn’t kind of into it. His chest is right there. His crotch. Somebody help me. I’m trapped in here. Aren’t the authorities looking for me?
Dolores braced herself for anger whenever he answered. Instead she got: “All right.”
“What?”
“All right, I said.” The Vitalizer stood and snapped his fingers. He walked back to the white sofa; the streetlight dragged her along with him. “If we sit here long enough, you’ll get there.”
He’s getting comfortable, the asshole! Dolores thought while she watched him sit, cross his legs, and flip through the channels. Channel surfing! “What do you like, Clockpunk?” he asked.
O-Oh my gosh...He’s interested in what I enjoy...NO! No! You know better! “Murder investigation documentaries.”
“I’m not convinced that’ll make you calm.”
“Sure it will.”
He put on a documentary about birds instead. “Now, Clockpunk, I’m still left with what you actually do with your particular gift.”
The streetlight tightened again. Oh, shit. He’s giving me a countdown. “Are you going to tell anyone my secret?” she toyed. OKAY! What’s the most outrageous extension of your current powers? Hurry!
“You know I wouldn’t, sweetheart.”
Hee, hee...Oh, stop! Focus. “When I’m in my zone, I can stop the entire city for an hour. I’ve tried it out on Cooley a few times. It’s cool.” She looked to the documentary for a moment and watched a blue heron stroll through a stream. Grass swayed behind it in the sunshine. “Couldn’t let Dr. Awesome and the others have access to me?”
The Vitalizer paused, perhaps more into the TV than she thought. “No,” was all he said.
Once more, the light pole tightened. Jackass...like I don’t know he’s doing it...Dolores needed something more: time. The one thing that made her “famous.”
They sat around a little while longer, Dolores pretending to be captivated by the bird onscreen. She was more interested in scanning her surroundings, hopeful that something could deliver her from The Vitalizer, but she couldn’t let him see that. As far as she knew, he’d be content with her death—better now to be quiet.
It didn’t last. The Vitalizer exhaled, Dolores’s bonds at their most constricting. She sucked sharply for air. “Clockpunk—” he began.
“Th-There’s something else.”
The streetlight squeezed her so tightly, she felt like her lungs would shoot out of her mouth. It burned, burned her muscles and skin. Perhaps, in any other context, she thought, one might call this “kinky.” However, I can’t stall much longer. I know he’s considering just ending me.
“And here I thought we’d be honest with each other,” the Vitalizer said. “Cooley can’t mean that much to you if you’ve just been lying.”
“No, no! It’s about my ‘Bull’ gift. If—If I’m really happy, that works, too. Gives me the energy to go for it, y’know.”
The Vitalizer leaned over, elbows on his knees. “Something tells me you aren’t going to find such delight where we currently are.”
“No, but it’s the truth.” He stared at the wall in response. “Could I get another donut? I’m still hungry.”
Her captor stood and walked around her. As he walked across the carpet, she slowed time and whipped her eyes back and forth. Damn it. Nothing I can use. There’s one last thing I can try...Time went on; so did The Vitalizer. She slowed time again as soon as she could.
She bent one leg. The streetlight pinning her to the floor made it near unbearable to move, but with labored breaths she got on her knees. She initiated another slowdown cycle and, her body threatening to break down, got to her feet. Not supposing she had more opportunity to experiment (nor that The Vitalizer wouldn’t try to get back ASAP), Dolores sat back down. I can’t screw this up. I have to be fast, clever—better yet, both. How tall is this sofa?
Dolores had a concept brewing in her brain. Whether or not she could do it was the question, but she had to try. Maybe The Vitalizer wouldn’t immediately off her if she messed up—a huge risk, though sitting around waiting for him to hear of the real Bull’s departure at any moment worried her more. I got myself standing, she thought, so if I seriously push myself, maybe I can...
He came back with another donut, this one with the added treat of sprinkles. Flicked it near her face before retaking the sofa. Put the news back on. Dolores’s heart threatened to burst out of her chest, but no updates came. Nothing about the Bull surfaced. She got to eating.
Part of her wanted conversation, but The Vitalizer wouldn’t care. She bet he had all sorts of stories to tell, plus a story might calm her down to unleash her “Bull powers.” On the flip side, she appreciated thoughtful men; a brief image of them cuddling in silence almost made her choke on the donut. “Don’t tell me you’re going to choke yourself,” he said while she coughed.
“No.” A little donut chocolate spread on the skin by her lips. “There’s a learning curve for eating levitating food.”
He cocked his head in agreement. As she got the donut into her stomach, she let chocolate spread further over her mouth and cheeks. “I can’t finish the damn thing, Vitalizer,” she complained. “If I had my hands—”
He put his hand out to telekinetically shove the remaining donut into her face, not bothering to look away. Some old white journalist on a panel insulted The Vitalizer, a “sociopath unchained” and “greed-driven asshole,” so the insulted party watched to hear what else. Adorable, Dolores mused. The Vitalizer thinks this is funny, huh? What a chill guy.
Her donut gone, the moment had arrived. She looked at the villain a while longer, resolving not to hurt him too badly, and set her plan in motion. “Can I sit on the sofa?” she asked.
“I guess.” The wound-up streetlight took her up with it to the couch cushion.
She relaxed her neck and butt. The Vitalizer sat a few inches away, but this arrangement wouldn’t work. She kept what calm she could. “Thanks.”
“Uh-huh.”
“One more thing.”
“What is it?” he asked flatly.
“My face is a mess.”
“You want me to clean your face?”
“I mean, it doesn’t have to be you. Just tell a wipe or something to do it.”
The Vitalizer groaned and got up again to find a wipe. He looked back at her while he headed for the kitchen a third time; she smiled back but got no response. All right, she told herself. He’ll cross the living room as normal and come around the left here. So long as my balance is good, I think I can get the advantage. He can probably tell I’m up to something—be smart, Dolores.
Right as The Vitalizer went through a little hallway, Dolores froze everything and got back on her knees. Time let up, but she grunted her way to a squat. Come on, come on, she pleaded with her body. I need to get on top.
Footsteps sounded in the kitchen, followed by some appliance scraping the counter. He’s kind of accommodating for a superhero hijacker. He’s cute! But he isn’t stupid. Dolores stood up straight, one foot on the sofa’s arm. I’m quite obvious coming out of the kitchen, so if I squat here...
With one more slowdown, she judged the height and power needed to get up. Content as possible in her situation, she crouched a second time and stared at her legs until her unsuspecting not-boyfriend returned.
The Vitalizer showed. She watched him walk halfway, and then turn left, and then...
While he rounded the way back to his seat, Dolores sent everything into slowness. Hold, she asked her powers. Please hold.
Seconds one and two: she stood.
Three: one foot landed on the arm.
Four and five: she balanced both feet. I need more time! She strained her brain to keep things still. They call me a superhero, and it takes all I have to put seven seconds on hold!
Six and seven: aware she’d run out, she forced herself onto the back of the sofa and hopped into the air—at The Vitalizer.
She saw time sink in and his head shift in her direction.
When Dolores thought he’d snap those beefy arms and fling her against the wall, he stopped. Her head hurt, more than she thought it would for a few seconds’ strain, but she got herself one more second. In that eighth second, the two came together.
As in, she dropped him. Aching all over, she pinned him to the floor in one fell swoop.
They both shouted from the impact, The Vitalizer having the stronger reaction. He kicked, he groaned, he tried to shake Dolores off, but to no avail. She didn’t know what she did – broke his ribs, broke nothing – but when he tried pulling at the light pole wrapped around her, she felt nothing but a tug. He couldn’t lift her off, and as The Vitalizer gasped for air, Dolores understood. “Y...You can’t use your powers!” she said, as if reconciling the notion to herself. “You’re under too much stress, aren’t you?”
He growled and kept fighting, failing to knock her off along with lifting the sofa beside them. Dolores wrapped her legs around him to make sure she didn’t slip. “This is four, five hundred pounds on your chest. You aren’t going to be shaking me off.”
“Sh-Shut up,” the Vitalizer snapped between sucking in air.
It’s weird, having his lower chest and back so close to my skin, Dolores thought. Hm. Okay, stop, need to negotiate. “So,” Dolores said right before another slowdown. She lifted herself up and slammed herself back on The Vitalizer’s chest.
He cried out, although it sounded like he tried to stifle it to save face. Now he’s in pain like I am. Vengeance satiated. “Here’s what we’ll do, Vitalizer,” Dolores said over his groans—resisting her own urge to groan. “I’m going to keep beating you with my binds. It will be agonizing. The only way to lessen it up will be to get this pole from around me.”
The Vitalizer coughed some more before saying, “As if there’s only one solution to—”
Dolores went into another slowdown before crashing into him again. “It’s your only solution,” she said as he writhed in utter distress. “I might not have the strongest or most efficient superpowers, but you’re operating on my time now.”
It annoyed her a bit when he tried sitting up. She knew he was tough, willing to fight through the pain to get what he desired, but why wouldn’t he stay down? “Stop it!” she said in spite of herself, slowing time again to keep The Vitalizer incapacitated. With another slam, he cried out even louder. “We are both tired and battered. Don’t make me h...Don’t make me kill you.” She stopped herself before she said the damning words: Don’t make me hurt you anymore. He would’ve heard all the reluctance he needed to get over on me.
The Vitalizer stopped moving. He couldn’t even take a decent breath. Nonetheless, a wheezing chuckle escaped his throat. “You aren’t going to kill me. Anyone with...with eyes could see that.”
“Smart.” Dolores allowed herself a grin. Resilient bastard. Every time I ask, “Why you?” I stumble upon a good explanation. It’s reaffirmed whenever my mind locks on you. “I don’t have to, though. One good knock to the head will do well enough.”
She didn’t commence another slowdown just yet. The Vitalizer didn’t fight back, and neither did she. They stared at each other for a bizarre moment in time, the quiet tones of the TV the only noise besides their strenuous breaths. What did he see when he looked at her? What did he feel? She knew she couldn’t let him lie here, recovering from the trauma with every passing moment, but it could be so nice to rest against him in a friendlier context...
Sigh. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to eat 80 loaves of garlic bread and watch Netflix for two days. No rest for the weary. Here came the next slowdown, Dolores forcing herself up—she had less motivation for this pummeling than the others. She quite relished gravity’s pull when she landed back on The Vitalizer.
With one last loud grunt, he yielded. “All right!” he spoke, panting. “All right, Clockpunk.”
“Great. Release me.”
The Vitalizer’s hands drifted to her metal-bound back. He took the deepest breath possible, and at once the streetlight drew away.
Dolores stayed on edge as her body came free. She anticipated a fight as soon as things looked relieved, leading her to take a quick glimpse seven seconds into the future.
In that gloom, he grabbed her neck. Dolores came back to the present and, as soon as she could move her pounding arms, jumped off him into a slowdown.
The streetlight thudded against the ground when it slid down her body. She had two options, the front door or the balcony. Since she assumed the door locked, she charged to the balcony and slid open the glass exit. Three seconds went to climbing onto the railing, but she needed at least seven to recharge. She waited a couple more in real time.
The Vitalizer yelled her name – her superheroine name – and gave her the motivation to jump.
I think this is my first time jumping off a building, she thought in freefall. Should I be excited or terrified? The wind feels amazing. The Vitalizer had better not fall after me. All she heard was wind, the dark city cool around her limbs. Only a hot bath could feel better.
As the ground closed in, Dolores heaved a long, proper sigh. She’d tried this before, but never from such heights.
She slowed time. The rushing buildings around her, the soothing gusts, inched like cold honey past her eyes. Though she still descended, she met Earth at such a slow rate that she landed on both feet without added injury—much as she needed to check into a hospital, Dolores still had her will. She booked down the street, past the condo complex into the streets.
Right before time resumed, she made out a humming sound somewhere ahead. Please tell me that’s Dr. Awesome’s helicopter searching for me, she thought as she ran. Every inch of her screamed to pass out on the pavement, but it was either the other heroes or The Vitalizer.
Cracking, crushing noises sounded behind her. She threw one glance over her shoulder and saw The Vitalizer hot on her trail, ripping up everything he could throw at her. He’s up and after me already?! Damn, he’s fast! She turned forward and pressed her body further. What’s more is that he’s mad as hell. I can’t let him reach me.
Mailboxes, benches, and small trees whooshed past her arms and ears. She slowed time to take a turn, both dodging the hail and leaving The Vitalizer’s sight, but knew this path led to exhaustion. Once the slowdown let up, the shops around her fractured off their foundations in pursuit of her. Is he going to try crushing me or something? Dolores kept her ears perked for that humming noise, despite the rumblings of brick-wood-plastic at the edge of her back. Burying me in rubble? Please let that be the helicopter coming towards me.
Oh, hey, if The Vitalizer’s causing all this havoc...maybe they’ll see it from above.
They could not miss it. Cooley lay quiet besides the storm in Dolores’s wake; she didn’t know where all its people fled, simply that they weren’t here to take from the display. While she slowed time again, the relative silence struck her. I did it. Cooley’s citizens got away. My plan worked! Yeah, Cooley’s sustained grievous damage, but not its people! Not its people.
She had to stop running for a bit, so tired she thought she’d collapse. Her hand rested against a tree, and though The Vitalizer demolished a bus up the street, she had to dig deep. That humming came into clarity as she wiped the sweat off her lip. It is the ‘copter. Where...? She looked through the canopy for it.
A searchlight beamed into view. Finally I’m at the end. No stopping now. With another slowdown, Dolores pressed on towards it. She didn’t care to judge how far the light strayed, for as long as The Vitalizer didn’t beat her to it, no problem!
Failing to give him due notice did her no favors, however. While sprinting across a boulevard, the tree she’d just left caught her on the calf. Dolores grunted and stumbled but kept going. A yield sign jabbed at her thigh, breaking enough skin to make her pants damp. He’s catching up! I can’t get a break!
The third slowdown, started on the brink of a spinning traffic light grazing her back, lasted five seconds. She felt the difference; she wanted to panic. Not good not good NOT GOOD. “Clockpunk!” The Vitalizer shouted over the screeching roar of half a bus—Dolores turned back to see it driving up the rightmost lane with him on top. “Mind yourself! You’re a valuable commodity, remember?”
She ran down another boulevard at the limit of her strength. He followed. Her vision grew spotty, her legs shaking. Her mouth was dry; her lungs shriveled beneath her ribs. She had one more slowdown in her—
Heat licked up her entire body from behind. A blue-white tower of flames crash-landed between her and The Vitalizer, and when she revolved to take it in, she fell to her knees. She sucked in all the hot air she could handle, unconcerned with the megalomaniac on the other side. The helicopter hovered a little ways away.
When the tower disappeared, The Vitalizer looked ready to attack. Fortunately for Dolores, Dr. Awesome appeared between them. Bloodwoman and Purple Quetzal walked up beside her. Aware of the blood, sweat, and chocolate frosting still on her, Dolores let the cleaner-kempt heroes do the energy-wasting. “It’s been a while, Vitalizer,” Dr. Awesome said.
“So it has,” the Vitalizer said with a cough. He drifted down off the bus. “Pleasantries aside, I’ll take the woman back.”
“No, you won’t.” The doctor put his fists on his hips and said, “Clockpunk comes with us.”
The Vitalizer clutched his gut but kept his ground. “The Bull comes with me.”
Dr. Awesome leaned his head up. “Ahhh. The Bull. As a matter of fact, the Bull is already out of Cooley; it’s not going with any of us. Clockpunk’s never even seen it, villain.”
Once more, The Vitalizer stared everyone down. Dolores got the sense that he really kept his gaze on her, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t reach her with the other three there.
Instead, he let out a soft laugh. “I figured. I should have gone ahead and killed her—”
“You won’t be killing anyone,” Bloodwoman interrupted.
“I suppose I won’t.”
Relief flooded Dolores at those words. She was done. She could rest. “Leave Cooley,” Bloodwoman said. “If you stay, you deal with us. What you came for is gone, so consider this an act of mercy.”
Another lapse of silence passed. The Vitalizer ended it with a series of coughs before lifting his hands. “An act of mercy, then. I concede.”
He turned to the city’s other end. Dolores knew he still wanted the Bull, even if none of them knew where it ended up. In the very least, she found solace in knowing he wouldn’t return to her home for it anytime soon. “Another time, heroes,” the Vitalizer said as he walked away.
“One thing, though, before I forget.” He cast his masked face to Dolores. “I’m impressed, Clockpunk. You might be my new favorite of this pathetic bunch.”
She blushed like crazy. In fact, she had to fight off a smile as he shot off in the night air—good thing her body crumpled up into a ball, too worn out to do anything else. Bloodwoman picked her up for extraction in the helicopter, but Dolores chose sleep over everything else.
~~~
Dr. Awesome, being the sole superhero who knew her everyday identity, tended to her injuries with a nurse they both trusted. She recuperated over the next few days in peace.
She recuperated further at home once released. First thing she did was hop in the tub, the steaming water eking out every last ounce of soreness left.
Next she cried for a minute over The Vitalizer, at how she’d brutalized her crush despite him deserving it. Remembering the newfound respect he showed her before disappearing helped calm her down, but she never wanted to hurt anyone that badly again.
Then she called her mom, updated the museum on her “car crash injuries obtained during the rush out of the city,” and got back to her normal life. She ate, played video games, slept, and worked as she typically did. In spite of the Cooley destruction, she commended the other heroes for removing the Bull. In spite of her life’s duality, she found no need to complain. And, in spite of The Vitalizer’s chaotic deeds, she still giggled when she saw his picture on the news.
When Dolores saw herself, though, she smiled more. She saw a hero more suited to the job than maybe anyone, even Dolores, originally believed. The next time Cooley called for Clockpunk, they’d get her—happier and proud of herself, as she should have always been.
