A heavy boot kicks me in the gut, shocking me back to consciousness. “Get Up!”
“Wha?” The last thing I remember was telling a police officer we had to get everyone out of the building.
“I said, GET UP!” The boot again.
I finally manage to roll over despite having my arms bound painfully tight behind me. My feet are bound too, plus straps tightly wound over most of my body. If not for my training I’d probably be suffocating: as it is I look like a bondage model.
Constrictor looks me in the eye. A rope grabs me and hauls me up so I’m facing him. That’s his power. He’s a B-list supervillain with the ability to control cords and ropes of any kind. I haven’t been rated because I’m not out of high school yet.
“Hello Vixen. Or should I call you Victoria?”
Why is he using my civilian name? I decide to bluff since it’s obviously personal.
“Is this how you show a girl a good time?”
“Ha ha. I don’t care about you, girl, but my boy does. Why did you ditch him at the Homecoming Dance?”
Ditch who? Oh no, he’s Max Polen’s father. Max, a.k.a. Max Power is a junior super like me and the guy who tried to rape me at the Homecoming. And he had the help of my ex-BFF Psyche; I only barely got away.
“Ditch him? I ran for my life!”
“You shoulda stayed and took it, girl. What my boy wants, he gets. He wants you.”
That’s what this is about? Max wants to get his willie wet?
“I don’t have time for this! I’m on a real mission! Madman has put a nuke under this police station; if it goes off half the city will be vaporized.”
“You snubbed my boy. That comes first.”
He pulls out a knife, and I’m pretty sure he’s not going to cut me free.
I spot a subtle movement behind him, then a black plastic garbage bag goes over his head. It’s Wallflower, my partner and new BFF since Psyche went villain. She has super-camouflage powers, and with combat training from me she’s learning to fight.
She pulls the bag tight over his face and around his neck. He drops the knife and tries to grab the bag away, but Wallflower has leverage. Half a minute later he drops to the floor unconscious.
“Was that good, Vix?”
“It was perfect, girlfriend. Now can you help me down?”
She takes the knife and starts cutting away the restraining cords. “Do you want a picture to show Iron Maiden?”
This again. Sigh. “She’s not like that, Flower, that’s just her shtick to keep guys from trying to peel her out of the armour. The only thing I do with her is train.”
She gives me a half-smirk. “That’s not what I heard.”
“But it is the truth. Now cut me down, please; we’ve got a bomb to defuse.”