Disclaimer: This is the seventh chapter in a story about an "other world" based on the Arrowverse, the CW shows that focus on DC superheroes. I am writing this as my way of paying homage to my fandom for the Arrowverse. The character names Supergirl, Green Arrow, The Flash, Canary and Brainiac are trademarks of DC Comics. These chapters are free to read, they will not be published in book format, nor will any revenue be generated from the chapters. If there are legal issues involved with the usage of these characters, please email me at bwmorris at mail dot com and I will cease with the writing. Critiquing of my writing is welcomed and may be left in the comments.
So many nights I've spent running around familiar territory but having no idea where I might be headed. Tonight, I know where I'm headed, but it's into unfamiliar territory.
I've heard a lot about Hub City but, even when my parents were alive and we traveled once in a while, they never took me here. My father visited it a few times but never said it was anything special.
At the pace I'm going at, I don't get to catch much of the sights -- it's late at night and everything goes by in a blur. But I'm not here to see the sights. I'm here to find out more about why Warren Hosills is working with Intergang.
I've already raced down the long stretches of road leading out of Central City, past multiple locations, to the east side of Hub City. Though I don't know much about Intergang, I studied enough to know that this band of criminals frequent the run-down warehouses that comprise this part of the city. And at my speed, I'm able to check one after another until I find the one in which they are hiding
After about a dozen checks with nothing found, I come to another dilapidated building, phase through a metal door and the illuminated lights tell me all I need to know.
I hear sounds coming from beyond the stacks of boxes on pallets that line the walls of this giant building. Zipping around corners, I come upon what appears to be the loading area, and that's where I find Intergang.
These men are dressed the way you would assume most criminals would be -- mostly in black. They are unloading boxes from a large truck. A couple of the men open one box up and pull out smaller boxes, while a couple others are packing firearms of different sizes into other crates and boxes.
I size them up, feeling an electrical jolt within my body. It's what I've come to call the Speed Force, the energy that flows through my veins and allows me to do what I do best -- run.
Off I go, swooping around the loading area, my fist extended and connecting with one Intergang member after another. Their bodies fly about, some sprawling over tables, some crashing into boxes, some slammed against the walls. I come to a halt, shifting my gaze about the warehouse. Figure it's best to take them down first, ask questions later.
I don't have time to count how many there are, much less ask a question, before two members get to their feet, their faces filled with surprise that's replaced with anger in mere seconds. One raises a finger toward me. "Where the heck do all you freaks come from?"
My response is to charge the Intergang member, driving my shoulder into his chest and knocking him toward the shelves. He collapses to the ground and a box falls upon him from above.
His cohort takes a swing at me, but he can't match my quickness. I duck and slide to my knees, extend my arm and topple him over.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. Three more members near the truck rush toward me. How foolish of them to think that the odds favor them.
They each take their best shot, but I duck and dodge their attempt, all while keeping them off balance with jabs to the ribs and kicks to the knees. With each of them staggered, I focus on one member, drilling repeated fists into his midsection, then finish him off with a blow underneath the jaw, delivered with such speed that he flies into the truck and crashes into the boxes piled inside.
The other two think they have their chance, but I grab them by the heads and ram them togethr twice in rapid succession. Down they both go.
That's when I hear the bang and feel a sharp pain in the back of my right knee. I cry out and stagger. Turning my head, I notice an Intergang member moving away from the tables where they were packing firearms. He holds a small pistol in his hand.
"You're pretty fast." He has a wicked smile on his face. "But that doesn't mean you can't be stopped."
I stumble about, unable to keep my balance, and fall to the ground. The pain in my knee worsens. My hand reaches toward it, my fingers searching for wherever the bullet penetrated. Though I have rapid healing ability, it won't do me much good with a bullet wedged in my skin.
The Intergang member advances and I can see two others walking behind him, each with a pistol. The first one chuckles. "Can't run any more?" He spreads his arms to the sides, like the fight is already won. "Too bad. A moving target is more of a challenge."
I crawl along the ground. Digging deep, I try to tap into the Speed Force, hoping that I might find the spark I need to counter the odds.
That's when I hear a piercing scream. The three Intergang members fly backwards, pushed back by some kind of force in the air. The loud noise that accompanies it makes me wonder if it's a sonic wave. But where did it come from?
Next thing I know, somebody dressed in yellow steps in front of me and says, "Well, I'm here. You can try me on for size."
I manage to drag myself toward shelves and pull myself to a standing position. My eyes switch toward the loading area, where I see this new individual -- a man with short, blond hair -- taking on the first Intergang member who gets to his feet. This man in yellow matches punches and kicks with the Intergang member, delivers an uppercut that sends the Intergang member backwards and right into another one who is standing up.
While I should be grateful for this man's intervention, I can't help but wish that he wouldn't get involved in my business. How else can I learn more about the connection between Intergang and Frontier Technologies if he keeps intefering?
This man stays focused on the Intergang members, leaping toward the remaining member as he gras a table to pull himself up. The Intergang member takes a foot right to the jaw, courtesy of the man in yellow. He then assumes a defensive posture, his head moving around, like he expects another foe to charge him any minute now.
The first two Intergang members get to their feet and rush toward this man in yellow. He avoids a punch from one, but the other catches him with a shot to the midsection, grabs him by the arm, spins him around and pulls him close to his chest. The first Intergang member, the one who shot me earlier, curls his fists, that wicked smile returning to his face.
I take a deep breath, sizing up the Intergang members, let the energy flow through my body, and feel the rush of the Speed Force. Ignoring the throbbing in my knee, I charge forward, lean my right shoulder forward and drill it into the Intergang member. My shoulder catches him right in the jaw and he flies several feet into the air, slamming into boxes.
When I turn my head, it appears the second Intergang member loosened his grasp, perhaps stunned by my presence. And that allows the man in yellow to rear his elbow back into the Intergang member's ribs. The man in yellow swing his left leg and his foot smacks into the Intergang member's chest. Before the criminal can react, the man in yellow opens his mouth and I notice that sonic wave comes from his mouth, an amplified scream that sends the criminal flying backward into a set of shelves.
I stagger for a moment and have to prop myself against a table for support. My eyes lock with those of the man in yellow. What could have brought him here and why? It's not like this was any of his business.
He cast a wry smile and says, "Nice outfit."
After what we went through, that's the first thing he'd say to me? "What are you doing here?" I vibrate my vocal chords rapidly, lowering the tone of my high-pitched voice.
He raises his eyebrows and his blue eyes widen, like he thinks this is all fun and games. "I was going to ask you the same question."
I jerk a finger toward him. "This isn't your concern."
He shakes his head. "I'm afraid it is. This is my turf -- my city. Meanwhile I've never seen you here before."
So he lives in Hub City. I can't argue with him on that point. Not that I will admit he's right that what goes on in his city is his concern. "I had this under control."
"I'm sure you did." He jerks a thumb behind him. "Like you did when you were down on the floor a few minutes ago." That cocky smile never leaves his face -- and that bothers me. "Still, I have to say I'm impressed with what you can do."
I'm about to respond, but I hear moaning behind me. My body pivots and I see, rolling on the ground, the Intergang member who first drew his pistol on me. In the blink of an eye, I rush toward him, grab him by the collar of his shirt and shove him against the wall. Vibrating my body rapidly, my left hand tightens around his collar and I thrust my right hand up, pointing my fingers toward his heart. "What are you doing working for Warren Hosills?" I growl.
This Intergang member, whose tone earlier dripped with arrogance, now stumbles over his words as he talks. "What are you so concerned with that guy for?"
I draw myself closer to him, my eyes fixed on his. "What does he want with you?" My right hand inches toward his chest. "Start talking now."
The next voice I hear is the man in yellow's. "Hey, what are you doing?" I turn my gaze away from the Intergang member and the other man steps toward me. "Why are you holding your hand near his heart like that?"
I don't have time to explain myself, but it's clear the man in yellow isn't going to leave. "I'm getting information I need," I grunt.
The man in yellow holds up his hands. "Look, I need information, too, but I don't have to act like the bullies they are to get it."
I suppose I should be grateful for this man coming to my aid. But my patience is wearing thin. Ever since I gain superspeed two years ago, I've been trying to get into Frontier Technologies, but I set off alarms on my first attempt to check things out. Later, I discovered somebody set up additional security systems around the perimeter. Almost like Warren knew who I was all about.
Though I learned more about my powers over time, each time I investigated his business, he seemed to have another system in place to counter any tactic I gained. This may be my best chance to learn more about Warren and his plans. Last thing I needed is somebody getting in the way of that, even if he's not one of the criminals.
That's when the Intergang member starts talking -- but not in that fearful tone. It almost sounds devoid of any emotion. "You organics shall be terminated."
My attentions are drawn back to the Intergang member. I move my hand closer to his chest. "What did you say?"
His eyes are glazed over, his face stiff, as if he's no longer bothered by my tactics. "You organics shall be terminated. The damage you caused to your planet is the same as the damage others caused to their planets. It must be stopped."
My left hand remains clutched around his collar and my right hand vibrates but I move it no closer. For a moment, I forget about what I came here to learn and wonder what prompted him to say this. It doesn't sound like the way any person would talk. Also, why would his expression would change from fear to emptiness when I'm right in his face like this?
I hear the man in yellow, "Wait -- that's not the first time I heard one of these guys talk like this."
Not the first time? Part of me wants to ask the man in yellow more about this. But I notice the Intergang member's eyes blink. The fearful gaze he once had returns and he's stuttering again. "What the heck just happened? What did you do?"
I raise my right hand toward his face. "I haven't done anything -- yet. Start telling me what you know about Warren Hosills."
He holds up his hands and stammers, "We've been shipping weapons to Frontier Technologies in exchange for these technological gadgets."
"What technological gadgets?"
He flails his right hand to the side. "In those boxes in the truck. You can see for yourself."
My face draws closer to his. "Where can I find Hosills?"
"I don't know where he is." The Intergang member's lips quiver with each word. "I've never been in direct contact with him. Just with people who work for him. All they tell us to do is get weapons transferred to him while he ships tech to us."
That's when I notice, out of the corner of my eye, the man in yellow standing next to me. "Well, since you have his attention, I'll ask something. Heard that Intergang is going after Mark Gregory. What for?"
I recognize that name -- Mark Gregory is a member of Congress. And he's someone I know has issues with the work Frontier Technologies has been doing as of late.
The Intergang member's eyes dart toward me, then to the man in yellow. "Intergang is planning to attack Mark Gregory when he makes his visit to Hub City in two days. We were told by someone that it would help generate sympathy for Warren Hosills as he's trying to push for this artificial intelligence he wants. I swear I don't know more than that!"
The man in yellow grabs my right hand. "All right, that's enough. We need to get out of here -- it won't be long before the cops are here and it's not a good idea for us to be here when they are. They aren't exactly fond of vigilantism."
I jerk my head to the side. How dare he touch me like that. I'm ready to tear him a new one, but notice his eyes -- the carefree look is replaced with one of concern. Almost like he's worried about me. It's enough to make me pause while I reconsider what I want to say to him.
He pulls his hand away from mine. "Look, I'm sorry I grabbed your hand, but I can tell you're hurt." He gestures toward my knee. "And I see enough to know you're bleeding. Why don't you come with me -- my partner can fix you up."
I stare at the man in yellow. The pain in my knee worsens and I know he's right. But it's been a long time since I've been around somebody who I could trust. Always seemed like nobody had my best interests in mind. I'm not sure if this man does, either. But whatever faults he may have, his expression suggests he wants to do the right thing.
My right hand curls into a fist and connects with the Intergang's member's jaw. A grunt is the last thing I hear from him and his head slumps to the side. I release his collar and he falls to the ground. That's when my right knee buckles out from under me. It's clear I need medical attention.
The man in yellow helps me stand and throws my right arm over his shoulder. "Come on, I'll help you get to my car. I promise my partner can help you." He guides me along through the warehouse, toward the door I passed through earlier. The man pushes it open. I think I see the lock and handle dangling loose from it. The way my knee feels right now, I'm not prepared to argue with his man.
We make our way along the alley and cross the street. In the distance, I hear sirens wailing. The man guides me towards a small, black car and gestures toward the passenger door. "I imagine you like to use your feet to get around, but I figure this might be easier on you."
I open the door and slump into the seat. The pain in my knee grows worse -- I wonder if the bullet is preventing me from healing. Perhaps it is for the best that I let this man in yellow help me, at least for now.
Whether I stick around with this man in yellow for long remains to be seen. But one thing I do know is my mission against Frontier Technologies has grown beyond just Central City.
To be continued in Chapter 8.
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