4.1 The Awesome Titan!

Johnny B. Goode felt like he was flying. It was like all the movies of the cool metas on TV, only way faster. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the power of the air currents all around him, and the freedom of soaring though the sky. It was like heaven. Johnny had just one problem.

He couldn’t actually fly.

Johnny struck the earth at several hundred miles per hour. Dirt and rock exploded beneath him and created a storm of dust around him. Slowly he rose from the hole his fall had made. He brushed the dirt from his remaining clothes as he cleared his head.

The area around him looked utterly barren. Dirt, some stones, an occasional patch of grass, but nothing more than that. It reminded him a bit of the parks when he was a kid, back before the destruction, but way less cool. No jungle gyms at all; he couldn’t even find a slide.

He did see a massive wall though. It stretched as far as the eye could see, taking time only to curve to cover both his right and left as he followed its trail. He couldn’t remember ever being this close to the dividing wall before. Jack was always warning him, telling him again and again, “Stay away from there,” or “You could get hurt in the…” What was it? The DMZ, that’s what he called it.

He didn’t see what was so bad about this DMZ place. It seemed sort of nice, quiet.

“Unidentified metahuman!” Johnny looked up from the dirt and back to the wall where the voice was being projected over loud speakers. He wondered if they were talking about him, so he pointed at his chest. “You have entered the line of demarcation. Withdraw immediately or we will open fire.”

Fire? The word reminded him of his battle with Mister Mayor. Sure, Jack used it too, but he was nice enough never to keep it away from him. Not like that other guy back in Downtown. He was mean.

“I don’t like fire.” He spoke the words softly. Jack always told him that he needed to make sure people could hear him when he talked. “No fire!”

They didn’t throw fire at him, but they did start shooting his guns. Johnny scrambled away as bullets rained down around him. He knew they couldn’t really hurt him, but he still didn’t like them. They stung.

“Hold your fire, men!” Johnny looked for the fire again, but he only saw a red, yellow, and white streak descend from the sky. At least the soldiers stopped shooting their guns.

The metahuman did several full circles over Johnny’s head as the young man watched in awe, before he slowed and alighted on the ground just in front of Johnny. Johnny recognized the slicked back black hair, the white costume with its gold logo, the red boots and capes. He would recognize Titan anywhere. He remembered reading the legendary metahero’s comic book back when he was just a kid.

“You’re Titan!” Johnny jumped up and down and clapped. “You’re so awesome! I used to have all your stuff. The toys, the lunchbox, even your movie on videotape! You’re the coolest ever!”

Titan arched one prominent eyebrow. “Er… yes, son. That is me. What are you doing in the demilitarized zone?”

“The whatsit?”

“You are from inside the Divide aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, sure, but I just—”

“You are not allowed in this area, son. The demilitarized zone is the line of demarcation between the Divide and the United States. No one is allowed to enter or leave through it. Any trespassers are to be shot on sight.”

“Oh, that explains the guns.” Johnny shuffled his feet like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I didn’t mean it or anything. It was all an accident.”

Titan patted Johnny on the shoulder. “I’m sure it was, son. This Divide business is a dirty sort, but you and I both must follow the rules of law.” He glanced back at the wall. “If you allow me to escort you back to the boundaries of the Divide, we can end this without any further violence.”

“Are you going to fly me?”

Titan looked at the gleeful excitement on the face of the nearly seven foot tall man in front of him. “I suppose that can be arranged. Turn around and raise your arms up a couple inches. Keep them locked there, okay?”

Johnny nodded. He felt Titan’s hands touch the back of each of his upper arms. Less than a second later, Johnny felt his feet leave the ground.

“Woo hoo! Thanks, Titan, this is great!”

“What’s your name, son?”

“Johnny. I don’t really have a last name no more, but my friend Jack calls me Johnny B. Goode.”
Titan curved in a half-circle in the air before suddenly starting a zigzag motion. Johnny again whooped with joy.

“One more question, Johnny. How old are you?”

“Uh… well…” Johnny fell silent.

“What is it, Johnny?”

“Well, Jack told me never to tell anyone I don’t know really well how old I am.”

Titan gently descended to the ground at the edge of the DMZ. Johnny clapped with joy at his ride and Titan gave him a broad grin.

“Now who do you know better than me, Johnny? Didn’t you say you owned all my toys and read all my comics?”

“Well, yeah, I guess so.” Johnny scratched the whiskers on his chin. “I just don’t want to make Jack mad. He’s been a real good friend to me.”

“I promise not to tell if you promise not to tell.”

“Okay, Titan, as long as you can keep a secret.” Johnny leaned in close to Titan’s ear. “I’m fourteen,” he whispered.

“How is that possible?”

“I’m a little big for my age.”

Titan glanced back at the border wall only a few hundred yards away. He turned back to Johnny. “It is a travesty you’re forced to stay here, Johnny. But I can’t do anything to change it, at least not right now. I promise that I will find away to make this blasted place whole again. I swear it.”

“Gee, that’s mighty cool of you, sir.”

“Will you be able to get home all right, Johnny?”

“Sure. I’ve done it a lot of times. I mean, I’m fourteen, not eight.”

“So you are. Farewell, Johnny. Be careful and I am certain we will see each other again.”

“I sure hope so, Titan. You’re the best.”

Titan only smiled as he rose in to the air. He shot off a quick salute to Johnny which Johnny quickly and excitedly returned. Then he disappeared in a flash of movement.

Johnny couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he headed back to home.

3.4 The Battle for Downtown

“This ain’t right, Jack. I think I’m hurtin’ him!”

Johnny B. Goode paused for a moment from the smoldering ruin of a city street as he looked up at Jack Flash. Steam and smoke rose up from damaged pipes somewhere far below. Imbedded in the cement beneath him was the limp form of Mister Mayor.

“No, don’t stop, Johnny!”

Johnny couldn’t hear Jack as Mister Mayor shot upright and threw the massive young man off of him. Johnny crashed to the ground landing hard straight on his blond head. He groaned and rubbed at his head as Mayor turned his focus back to Jack Flash.

“Now that wasn’t playing very nice was it, Jack? It isn’t like you to play dirty in our little games.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m getting over that.” Jack lit up again and propelled another wave of fire in Mister Mayor’s direction.

“You know you can’t hurt me with that, Jack. Your fire won’t do anything to me.”

Jack gave Mayor a wry grin. “Who said I was aiming for you?”

The natural gas in the air suddenly ignited in an explosive burst. Jack braced himself and closed his eyes, but Mister Mayor had no such luck. He cried out at the sudden blinding flash of light all around him.

Jack opened his eyes to see Johnny strike out at their metallic foe again. “Don’t let up this time,” Jack yelled. “You have to keep him down if we’re going to have a chance at this!”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny said. “I won’t let you down, Jack!” Johnny rained blow after blow down on Mister Mayor. Mayor struggled to fight back, but the blows drove him to his knees.

A flash of flame shot down from the skies above and engulfed Johnny. The young metahuman cried out as his skin and hair instantly started to burn. Jack looked up to see a short-haired Caucasian drop from several floors up in the building before him. He wore matching sweatpants and sweatshirt, but both were burning away from the halo of fire surrounding him.

Jack cursed under his breath. Another flame-wielder, could this day get any worse? He hurled a pair of fireballs towards the newcomer, but he deflected them away from him with bursts of his own fire.

Mister Mayor turned and delivered a massive blow to Johnny B. Goode as Johnny still struggled to put out the flames burning him. The blow caught Johnny unaware and sent him flying several stories skyward. He crashed down several blocks away.

Jack backed away from the other fire-guy and Mister Mayor. He knew when he was in trouble.

An engine revved some distance away. All three faces turned as Skull Solo flashed in to view on the back of his Harley. The bald, tattooed biker sneered at all three men as he kicked the bike in to gear. Jack cursed his luck at the arrival of another Cabinet member.

But Solo went straight for Mister Mayor. He let his bike slide out from under him and as he flew through the air, he raised both hands towards his former commander-in-chief. The skin around his face, hands, and arms went translucent as he activated his acid touch. Mayor cried out as Solo’s hands wrapped around his shoulders and melted the metal beneath them.

“Go!” Solo yelled.

Jack wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He turned and ran. He caught Chihuahua’s eye in the middle of the Dogpack’s forces. He gave a nod, which the Dogpack’s leader returned.

“Pull back!” The call rose up over the gang. Some confusion ran through the rank and file, but they all quickly turned to leave.

Jack cursed himself again and again. The fight was over today, and they had lost.

*****

Mister Mayor roared in pain at the turncoat’s touch. He had given Skull Solo everything, and now the bastard stabbed him in the back.

“I’m tired of being your sycophant, you psychotic bastard!” Mayor could see Solo’s clenched jaw through his translucent face. The skull seemed to glow brighter as Skull renewed his attack. “You’re going to die, you big metal fuck!”

Fire engulfed both of them. Solo screamed in pain as he panicked and threw his clothes away from him. He dropped to the ground and rolled to put out the flames.

Mister Mayor capitalized on Solo’s sudden distraction with a brutal kick to the head. Solo’s head snapped back with a brutal crack. Solo lay silent on the ground. Mayor turned to the new arrival. “Who are you?”

“My name is Able. I apologize for forcing myself in to your affairs, but it seemed like you needed the assistance.”

Mayor gave the man a lopsided grin. “I suppose so. Welcome, Able, rest assured you have made a friend today.”

“I don’t seek friends, only allies. I was hoping we could help each other, sir.”

Mister Mayor laughed. “A man after my own heart. I like you, Able. What is it you want?”

“Just to get to know this city better. I have come to the realization that without that knowledge, I will never find that which I seek.”

“So be it. You take a position with my Cabinet, and we will teach you the who, what, and wherefore of our little country. Who better than the mayor, eh?”

“Agreed.”

Mister Mayor gave him a broad grin as he let his massive metal form shed away from his skin. He shrank several inches down to his normal size. “Come on then. We have a victory to celebrate today.”

3.3 A Piece of A

Everyone called her A. Mostly ‘cuz of her most obvious feature, but A liked to think it also stood for attack. She was the baddest bitch in all of Gold-Digger’s. And damn if this honky bastard wasn’t going to make her show it.

She took him for an easy mark when she first saw him. He seemed like the type of cat who would either cave and pay a little for the show or go down with little fight. Instead the pot-bellied redneck wanted to scrap and she was more than willing to oblige.

A knew this shit. She had been in scrapes and brawls since she was a kid. Growing up on the streets she learned how to fight at the same time she was learning to make money from her other assets. Now she could hold her own with the best of them. Nobody could match her with her ‘chuks or the rest of her arsenal, and she fought as dirty as the minds of Gold-Digger’s clientele.

She whipped the nunchuks around and straight at white-boy’s head. He threw his already injured arm up. A sharp crack radiated through the room as the bone shattered in a second place. White-boy shrugged off the injury without even a wince. He pushed forward and drove a shoulder straight in to her gut.

A stumbled back at the blow. She struggled to keep her footing and by the time she regained it, the honky had retrieved an aluminum baseball bat from the floor beside him.

With the bat in hand, she recognized him. They called him The Everyman. He protected a small district a couple blocks north of here. She knew he was a meta, knew he was tough, but now she planned to find out just how tough.

She twisted and threw a blow out with the nunchuks. They struck against Everyman’s bat as he parried. At the same time, A reached for her bracelet and yanked another charm free. Seconds later, she held a full sized scimitar in her other hand.

Everyman swung his weapon. A deflected it away with a stroke of the blade, and then brought the nunchaku up and around the bat’s base. The chain wrapped around the bat, and she yanked back to pull it away from her foe. Everyman’s hands slipped away, but as they did he flipped an almost invisible switch on the handle of the bat.

Electricity raced out the bat, through the nunchuks, and straight in to A. She shook and shuttered as time seemed to stop. After an interminable five seconds the bat clattered to the floor and A dropped down to one knee beside it.

She started to pull herself up, but Everyman’s boot caught her across the right side of the face. She dropped down on her hands and knees. He landed another foot to her gut. A dropped to the floor as she gasped for breath.

Everyman reached down and yanked her up by the red extensions weaved in to her hair. “Bitch, next time you pick a fight make sure it’s one you can win.” He shoved her face back in the floor and A could only hear his feet as he walked away.

Everything went black.

“A! A, wake up!” She opened her eyes. Another woman stood over her in a camouflage tank top and matching cap. Her reddish brown hair was pulled back in to a ponytail. Her large chest stretched the shirt to its limits as the woman stroked a stray hair out of A’s face.

“T?”

“Yeah it’s me, baby girl. What did you go and do to yourself?”

A looked around. They were backstage at Gold-Digger’s. She realized she was on the dressing room couch as a pair of half naked women walked past. She rubbed her aching cheek as she sat upright.

“I picked a fight I wasn’t ready for. That’s all. Next time though I’ll make sure the bastard burns for hurting me.”

T leaned in and kissed her. A sighed as T’s hands ran down her body. The pain seemed to melt away from her as T pulled back and gave her a smile.

“Don’t you worry,” T said. “The bastard will get his. All of the misogynistic bastards in this city will.” A couldn’t help but smile back.