chapter 9.2

It had been back in January. Eddie was standing at a wet bus stop in the torrential Northwest coast rain while his car was in the shop after someone rear-ended him while he was parked at a meter. He knew he should've felt lucky he hadn't been in the car at the time.

He didn't.

All of the sudden, a silver Honda Accord pulled up by the curb. The window rolled down to reveal one of the pen-test analysts from work. "Are you crazy?" she shouted over the rain. "You'll freeze out there! Come on, I'll give you a ride."

"I don't want to soak your upholstery," he replied. Unsatisfied, she took some of the plastic Taco Shack bags strewn about the floor and lined the passenger's seat with them.

"Now, for the last time, get in."

Clearly, she wasn't going to take no for an answer. He walked around the car and got in, taking care to sit on the edge of the seat so as to leave the interior as dry as he could.

"So where we headed?" asked the analyst. He gave her the name of his apartment complex and she grinned. "Sweet! I'm on the way. If you want, we can swing by mine and you can dry your clothes off in the dryer. I can lend you a tracksuit… you'd be swimming in it, but at least it'd be warm."

"That's really okay. I can't impose more than I already have."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I'm making jambalaya tonight."

"Is that like an arts and crafts thing?"

She laughed. It was musical, carefree...what he would have given to be quite so carefree. "It's food."

Was...was she asking him to dinner?

Her words echoed in his mind: 'You'd be swimming in it…' It was a longshot for sure, but what of the possibility that behind her playful smile was a conspiracy to change that? What if she was brewing a plot to ply him with luxurious meals until his body swelled with excess adipose? Addicted to her sweet attention and a continuous onslaught of food, he would be helpless to escape her hospitality, a mere plaything in her hands…

Goddammit, he cursed himself internally. He didn't even know this woman's name.

"Please, just take me home," he said, not daring to defile her table with his immodesty. He didn't deserve her kindness. He didn't even deserve the roof over his head in the rain.

"If you say so."

She weaved effortlessly in and out of traffic, which was astounding to him: in the continuing downpour, he could barely see forty feet ahead. "You drive like you want to test fate."

"In a way," she said, "I feel like the city is my lover. I trust the streets to take care of me."

"That's a high-stakes gamble. I was only going to take the bus because of a hit-and-run."

"When was this?"

"Yesterday, downtown."

"That'll be downtown for you."

"It was the strangest thing, too," said Eddie. "Whoever did it didn't leave insurance information. Just a promise that I'd get fixed up for free if I went to Go Fork Yourself Forklift, Machine and Truck Rentals and showed this to the owner. Apparently, whoever hit me has some sort of deal with them." He shifted in his seat, pulled out his wallet, and dug out the business-card-sized note the other driver had left under his window wiper.

"Let me see that?" said the analyst when they reached a stoplight. She took the note, turned it over and gasped. "Damn, boy! Looks like you had a close celebrity encounter! Hold on to that, it's probably worth money!"

Indeed, Vinny Contini from the machine shop had turned the card over, too, and immediately put his best mechanic on the job, free of charge. Somehow, it hadn't occurred to Eddie to check the reverse side, but as the stranger handed the card back to him, his heart raced at the sight of a phone number below an emblematic 'BS' in deep, bright orange font.

"Well, here we are," said Whatsername as she pulled up on Eddie's building. "Which one's yours?"

"I can walk from here."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

&q uot;Well, aight. I'm Oriana, by the way. I work upstairs."

"I knew that. That you work upstairs, I mean, not your name. I--" Why did he always have to be so awkward? "Eddie, I'm Eddie."

"Well, Eddie, swing by my cube if the car still ain't fixed tomorrow."

"Sure thing, thanks!"

He ran into his unit and slammed the door behind him, clutching the calling card to his chest, the anticipation building.

Bombshell: Blackwater City's fattening femme fatale herself.

Why hadn't he thought of her in the first place?

Because it was ambitious, that was why. How would he get the attention of a vigilante crimefighter?

Well, Mom was always saying he could do anything he set his mind to…

He knew how he was going to make his grand exit.

***

Studying him, Oriana read the signs. The lack of a struggle. The close range. The change in his tactics immediately following her statement of solidarity on Fredo Flores in the Morning. Finally, it dawned on her. “Wait. Did you do all this just to make yourself cum?”

“I'd be sorry I'm so transparent if you weren't so shameless," said Eddie. "Disgusting, aren't I? Repulsive.”

“I would go more with...desperate? I'm almost flattered. You coulda just swung by my cube. You know I'm the one that leaves the snacks in the break room, yeah?"

But they both knew that wasn't true, didn't they? Everyone knew the way Bombshell handled feedees on Twitter. 'Sorry, dude, but my life's too dangerous. Great gut though, 11/10!'

“Desperate, that's the word! I made you come all this way...and doesn't that make you angry? Doesn't it make you want to ruin me?"

"Boy, you done ruined your own self when you threatened poor Craig over there."

"Then finish the job!"

Her breathing quickened, her head spinning unpleasantly. “Woah woah woah, slow down, you asking me to kill you?”

“It's just role play,” Eddie protested, “I’m a pervert! A worthless perverted freak, I deserve it.”

"If this is role play it's the most convincing acting I've ever seen from you."

“You don’t know me!”

“I’ve seen you on TV. Sweet baby Jesus, you been in my car!"

“That’s not who I am!”

“Clearly.”

“I’m not an activist, I’m an opportunist, subverting a social movement for my own selfish sexual ends…”

“I’m not going to kill you, Eddie.”

“Why not? I deserve it, it’d be mercy, I only wanna go out swinging--”

“I won’t be part of the first suicide-by-superhero."

“But I need this…”

“What you need is help!" she tried to plead with him.

One of her phones buzzed. It was Jasmine.

'you said fifteen minutes'

"Look. Eddie. I have to go."

"Please--"

" ;Absolutely not. And for my conscience's sake, try not to get arrested."

"But Bombshell--"

She got back into her car. “You know, I expected better. Or I wanted to. I did hope the flowers were from you.”

To think: all those months ago, when she'd asked him upstairs on a rainy day, it was because she assumed nothing would come of it. He wasn't her type. There was no way he'd get pulled into the depths of her crazy, dangerous life. It would just be a night of no-strings-attached conversation to break up the monotony of the isolation that came with the lifestyle of rogue vigilantism. Then he had to go and construct some supervillain alter-ego and get all mixed up in her business on purpose…

And yet, she couldn't say she was blameless. She had taken the bait, all because of the lure of excitement of facing off for once against an equal…

And now he stood to be arrested…

She pulled up at the prestigious Westpark Hotel, parked, and made her way up the stone steps, through the marble atrium, and into the back courtyard where the press conference was taking place.

"Councilor Freeman, can you tell us a little more about your involvement with Bombshell?" one reporter from Channel 5 had just asked.

"Certainly!" said Jasmine on the podium. "In fact, I was actually going to have Bombshell address the press herself today. She should be here any minute; she's gotten herself caught up in a little last-minute day-saving--oh, here she is now!"

Taking her cue, Bombshell stepped up to the podium.

"Bombshell, it seems you've had an eventful afternoon!" said another reporter. "For those in the audience who aren't on Twitter, care to walk us through?"

"Well, to make a long story short," said Oriana, conflicted, her voice trembling, "I have good news for the people of Blackwater City: Big Tech has been neutralized."

A chorus of thunderous applause ensued, the cheers and cries of people who'd never spent a day in their lives wondering where their next meal was coming from. She wanted to be sick.

He was just a guy. Just a guy who worked downstairs, who was feeling so low and depressed that he cooked up a whole elaborate scheme to get himself ghosted.

"And how do the casualties number?" asked Jasmine, off to the side.

"Zero. He's alive."

Only one set of hands clapped now: Jasmine's. "Isn't that the way it should be done? Thanks to Bombshell, a dangerous thief can now be brought alive into police custody."

Oriana would have recommended psych eval instead.

"Ladies and gentlemen--"

"And in-betweens and neithers!" piped up Fredo Flores into his mic down below.

"This--this is the future. If I'm elected, vigilantes who are still aligned rogue will be given a new career opportunity, working alongside the police force to subdue crime in a nonviolent fashion while an aggressive push towards disarmament comes underway."

"Ms. Freeman!" said Sophie Klaus from TNN, "Will Bombshell be part of the grand experiment?"

Oriana held her breath.

"Bombshell has expressed an interest in remaining a rogue for the time being. However, under my administration, if she ever changes her mind, she'll be welcomed with open arms."

Sighing in relief, Oriana stepped offstage to join the inquiring minds in the audience.

About six feet away, a phone conversation caught her ear.

"I'm not going through with it, Leo," a man was saying into his receiver. "Why? Because she's here! Literally almost next to me, in the front row! You told me she'd be busy! Well, apparently your man didn't do a good enough job distracting her. There's no way I'm pulling a gun in front of Bomb--"

Before she could process the sudden revalation that there was an assassination attempt underway, a powerful explosion ripped through a sizeable chunk of the brick fence enclosing the courtyard. The next thing she knew, she was knocked onto her back, winded from the unexpected blow and choking on blast debris.

When at last she opened her eyes, she saw that the force keeping her pinned was some sort of clawed metal hoof, pressing down on her chest with the force of a vice. Satyr-like steel legs led to a recognisably human torso, albeit one penetrated with a number of pulsating tubes.

Metallic tentacles erupted from a spine that looked somewhat artificially-distended, each one ending in a snapping snake-like jaw. Even more menacing were the needle-like talons extending from the cyborg’s outstretched hands, tearing open his fingernails as if they were mousetraps. Every muscle bulged with bioengineered brawn, every bone looked sturdy and unbreakable; his body had been enhanced beyond its reasonable restraints, and the resultant mass of flesh and metal was a monstrosity.

"You were meant," he said, "to be occupied." Staring sadistically into her eyes through blank blue pupils, he cocked his head, smirked, and said, "Shoulda known. Want something done, gotta do it yourself. So sorry you had to become collateral damage."

"Was anyone finna tell me," she said between fits of coughing, "that supervillains was on two for one special today? Or was I supposed to just find that out when I came here?"

It'd be fine, though, she convinced herself. She had already fattened up one guy in a robot suit today. What was one more?

Gathering her superhuman strength, she swept one of his ironclad legs. He fell upon her, landing with a hand on either side of her shoulders, his smirk remaining. She was determined to wipe it off his face.

"Go head and stay on top of me, honey," she teased, regaining her voice as she steeled herself against the impending onslaught of gravity. "Missionary's my favorite position anyway." With that, she gave him everything she had.

Only...nothing happened.

Oh. Fuck.

She had thought she was up against some sort of Big Tech copycat, but she was facing a whole different animal this time. If she couldn't biomanipulate him, that meant…

That meant he was inorganic.

That wasn't metal plating covering his legs and lower torso. That was pure machinery.

The game had changed. Her strategy, now, was to hold him at bay. With everything she had, she pushed herself out from under his grip. He grappled for her, moving in for the attack, and she kneed him in the face. He recoiled, but didn't take enough damage for her to create distance. Before she could stand, one of those snapping titanium tentacles wrapped around her waist and threw her into the brick wall surrounding the courtyard. She hit the fence and fell on her side, tasting blood in the back of her throat.

He advanced on her as she staggered to her feet. She barely had time to take a breath before his tentacle wrapped around her once more and slammed her to the bricks again. "What a fascinating specimen," he drawled, low and slow, fixing her with a cold, unblinking stare. "You know, humanity is by and large a communal species. People make friends, value family...but not you, Ms. Taylor-Moore. Or should I just call you Bombshell? After all, you've all but forsaken your life in favor of this flimsy alter-ego. Oh, sure, you've had a few tumbles in the sheets. A one-night stand with a stranger on vacation, a quickie with your old computer programming professor, but nobody you could keep, nothing meaningful…you call a fetish sex line more frequently than your own mother, for fuck's sake."

"What do you want from me?!" she screamed.

"It's not a question of 'want', Bombshell. I simply need you out of the way." He held up one claw, threatening to slash her to shreds. "But of course, I wouldn't think to send you to the ferry man without knowing the name of the man who put you down. So, in your final moments, Bombshell: goodbye, and goodnight. Much love: Chimera."

She struggled and flailed. "That's imposs--that's imposs--Big Tech dug bits of you out lf a dumpster!" Wasn't that what Ben had found out?

"Big Tech?" laughed Chimera. "Who do you think hired the gullible sap? He'll be on his way here any minute now to help me incinerate your remains!"

With an expression of absolute relish, he pulled back his fist, aiming right for her throat. She focused all of her biomanipulative energy into making herself impenetrable. The blades connected with her skin but didn't pierce her…

But she knew she could only last for so long.

So this was how it ended.

Not with a bang, but a pathetic little choked-off noise, held six inches above the ground against a wall by a fucking cyborg.

Oh God, Oriana thought to herself. It was all so much. There was all this life she still wanted to live, and it wasn't much of a life, but what of that? She'd never watch another trashy stuffing video. She'd never spend another Valentine's day alone, drinking a whole bottle of champagne by herself while School of Rap played in the background.

Ben and D'von would cry over her, for sure, but they'd be the only ones. No one else knew her that well. Mom and Dad would chalk up her silence to a promotion at work and a busy schedule, if the cousins kept her secret.

And what was going to happen to Eddie?

But no. No! There was more! She had done some real good, dammit! She was meaningful!

But that was gone now.

She'd never visit another kid with cancer on behalf of the Last Wish Foundation. Not that she knew why some of these kids wanted to meet her anyway; she was the least family-friendly superhero she knew, but she'd brightened their days and that was important!

Was being the operative word.

It was time to say goodbye to the beautiful, merciless, complicated, and so, so sadly unexplored-to-her world. She just wished she could have said goodbye on Twitter.

She took another good look at her self-declared killer. His yellow eyes were wide and cruel, and the flowing mane of his hair: oh God, was that electrical wiring?

'Concentrate,' she told herself. 'Hold strong.'

Every second, a battle in its own right.

Every second, a small victory.

She'd never meant to get into the world of fighting big-time bad guys, and yet…

Earlier, she'd finally faced off against Baby's First Supervillain.

And now, she was almost certainly up against her last.