The River King 13

The River King 13

Taylor Hebert

Purity was dead. That wasn’t what I’d set out to do last night, but that was how things worked out. I saw my chance and took my shot. I wasn’t sure what to feel about this.

On one hand, this was partially what I wanted. I wanted to clean up my city. Purity was scum. Being a retired Nazi didn’t make her less scum. Hell, her appearance tonight proved that “retired” was just a matter of her mood. She was a threat; now she was no longer a threat.

It was something to be celebrated. The Empire lost their heaviest hitter, best flyer, and one of their highest-ranking lieutenants, all at the same time. Given I’d also killed Hookwolf, Krieg was the only lieutenant Kaiser had now. They’d never been this pressed by a single cape, not since the last time the Slaughterhouse paid Brockton Bay a visit.

On the other hand, this was the first time I’d willingly killed someone for zero personal gain. Cricket and Stormtiger had died because I needed to forge a new contract with Tahm to empower myself. Hookwolf died because I needed my arm back.

Purity? Her death meant nothing to me. I didn’t get any stronger, nor did I glean new insights beyond a newfound appreciation for rifles. It was disconcerting. A part of me felt it was wasteful.

I supposed that most people would be broken up about deriving personal gain from murder. The way I saw it, the villains needed to disappear if I ever wanted the city to be at peace. So long as that was true, I figured I may as well gain something from it. Getting even better at disappearing villains could only be a good thing. 

A part of me understood that I was losing myself to this “kill villains to be better at killing villains” business. This wasn’t how a hero behaved. Even if I considered the Protectorate naive and overly optimistic, I could acknowledge that I was perhaps going too far in the other direction.

The impression I gave, at least according to PHO, was that I was cold, heartless, brutal, and inflexible. They said that I ruled with intimidation, both with my constructs and the implication of a watcher with billions of eyes. They said that I was little better than the gangs, or even worse considering my actions incited violent responses in turn.

Truth was, I knew all of this already. Those were things I told myself in the mirror every night. What they didn’t understand was that I was my own biggest critic.

Yet, I couldn’t stop. If a kinder touch worked, then the gangs surely would have been rooted out by now. I didn’t become a hero because I enjoyed violence. I didn’t kill because murder amused me. I just… I didn’t see another way. Wars didn’t stop because everyone magically developed a conscience. Wars stopped when everyone got sick of drowning in blood.

So, with a heavy but determined heart, I resigned myself to watching the city implode overnight. It was a bit like how forest rangers sometimes started wildfires on purpose, a controlled burn to prevent a bigger disaster.

X

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be. Individual cells of ABB thugs pressed into Empire territory, eager to take advantage of the damage I’d done. They forgot that, even down four capes, the Nazis had more than enough capes to outnumber most Protectorate rosters.

The Empire responded, of course. They couldn't be seen as weak, especially not now. Crusader literally impaled some Thai kid in a red and green scarf. Fenja threw a car so hard that it wrapped around a telephone pole like a scrunched up aluminium can, people still inside. Kaiser made a personal appearance, just long enough to skewer the feet of an entire ABB squad to the ground. Half of them bled to death on the street, still standing.

This dragged out Oni Lee, who naturally went on a bombing run in Empire territory. The news said it appeared indiscriminate, but I knew those businesses to be Empire fronts. It didn’t have to be a German bierhaus to be a Nazi hotspot.

When he was confronted, it ended up with Victor and Crusader being ferried away by Rune on the back of a floating truck. All the stolen skills and ghosts in the world didn’t mean anything before infinite grenades and teleportation, especially not when those projections phased through shrapnel. He was eventually driven off by Fog, who reduced his visibility range and zoned him out.

Plenty died even though capes tried to stick to countering each other because idiots with guns could pull triggers just as easily as anyone else. Still, it wasn’t that bad. The worst case scenario had not come to pass. Never once had Lung made an appearance. That confused me at first.

Upon reflection, it really shouldn’t have. Lung was a great many things. He was a murderer, tyrant, rapist, and sex trafficker. But more than that, he was passive. 

Ever since he first arrived in the Bay and united the Asian gangs, this had been his modus operandi. He moved swiftly to redress perceived wrongs, but did not go out of his way to conquer more territory. He reminded me of Smaug from The Hobbit, a dragon sitting on a pile of treasure.

From what limited intel I had on the ABB, the gang’s territory was divided like a fiefdom. Unpowered officers ruled like minor lords, kicking up tribute to the dragon who granted them authority and protection. And, so long as his core territory, his treasury, was undisturbed, he typically sent Oni Lee to handle affairs.

Through it all, I began to keep tabs on the city religiously. During the day, I worked on the assignments I’d missed in school, or rather, the shit the bitches ruined. I took the rest of the year off, but dad managed to get me the curriculum.

At the same time, I multitasked. Schoolwork was a trivial concern compared to the city at large. I used my bugs to map out a circle around my house. My range had improved since my trigger, covering roughly four blocks now. It was but a small slice of my total territory, but I could intervene within this range with my constructs even during the day.

I found it funny that I was doing geometry exercises while occasionally tossing a crab into a portal. So long as dad never checked the bottom drawer of my desk, we were good.

A few days passed this way. My house wasn’t in a wealthy neighborhood, but it was largely considered safe, safe enough for a teenage girl to go jogging at the crack of dawn.

Not a whole lot of crime happened in my immediate vicinity. In the past three days, I stopped a single mugging, one fight between drunk college boys, and a highschooler breaking car windows for things the owners left inside. Had it not been for my nighttime excursions, I would have gone mad with boredom.

On the fourth day, I told dad I’d head out to the library again. He wanted me to stay inside, but acquiesced when I told him I’d be at the one near city hall. It was safer, more heavily patrolled, and far from the fringes of gang territory. I didn’t expect to see much crime on this route, but I had to get out of the house, physically move my body.

I walked slowly, looking like any other schoolgirl. In my backpack was a set of textbooks, but also a plastic bag filled with briny seawater and crabs. With my hydrokinesis, holding it without getting my books wet was child’s play.

Surprisingly, my impromptu patrol led me to a rather conspicuous crime. There was a bank robbery nearby, that most classic of supervillain heists. I didn’t have the right kinds of bugs there to get a good look yet, but there were four villains, with three, large, dog-like beasts. That made them the Undersiders, the “Masters of Escape” according to the Brockton Gazette.

I wondered what the fuck they were thinking. A bank robbery was a supervillain classic, but it’d fallen out of style for good reasons. Not only was it highly public, banks were some of the most well-prepared for a robbery, with a dozen-odd ways to slow down the perps. Even when the villain got away, they typically didn’t leave with more than a few grand. It just wasn’t worth the trouble.

Were they trying to use the brewing gang war as a distraction? Or did it bruise their pride that no one was paying attention to them now? I would have thought no one could be that egotistical, but what did I know? I wasn’t a supervillain.

I stopped by a bus stop and took a seat on the bench. Pretending to text someone, I reoriented more bugs to the bank so I could see what exactly was happening. Some insects had better eyesight than others, or at least, sight that was better matched with my own senses.

I pursed my lips in annoyance. Three of the Undersiders were inside the bank. Bitch waited outside, leaning on her dogs. They were the size of SUVs so couldn’t fit inside the bank lobby.

Inside, Regent had piled the two security guards on top of each other and was now sitting on them. PHO said his power was to jerk people’s limbs around. It must have been humiliating to lose to a guy like that. Or maybe he had a secondary power he never told anyone about.

Meanwhile, Grue loomed over a group of hostages in the corner. Smoke wafted from him as he dictated terms. Though he made no threatening movements, his presence alone was enough to cow them. I saw eleven people. Most were adults but one was a year or two older than me, a waifish, brunette girl with freckles that looked oddly familiar.

Then there was Tattletale, their thinker. I couldn’t hear her, but she stood in front of the teller, no doubt trying to get access to the safe. She was the one who made me the most cautious. I didn’t need to see to take out Grue. Regent probably couldn’t control crabs. Bitch’s dogs were just Hookwolf, but worse. But I had no idea what Tattletale’s power was.

As I watched, the authorities arrived. I saw four cop cars and a single SWAT van, but not one hero in sight. The response was downright anemic compared to what I’d normally expect for such a conspicuous crime. Usually, the heroes cracked down hard on stuff like this, if only to discourage copycats and preserve the notion that they were still an effective peacekeeping force.

I shrugged. They must have been stretched thinner than I’d expected. The Undersiders were probably checked off as problems that could be dealt with after they got the city under control again. I couldn’t fault their logic exactly, but this did leave me as the only cape who was likely to respond in any reasonable timeframe.

Getting up from the bus stop, I walked to the library and checked in. Public libraries did have security cameras, but it wasn’t as if they were closely monitored. With so many shelves and nooks, it was easy to disappear. I found a quiet corner, made sure I wasn’t followed, and changed before diving into the River.

I had twenty crabs, just a third of what I’d used to take down Hookwolf. Then again, these guys weren’t Hookwolf. With my swarm as support, twenty was overkill.

X

Lisa Wilbourn

“Tats, we’ve got company,” Regent called. He looked outside, watching as the cops surrounded us.

“So what? Any heroes?” I asked, already knowing the answer. Odds were good that we wouldn’t be seeing any capes for another six minutes, at least.

“Nope”

“Then we’re good. Come on, Grue, help me load the bags. Regent, keep the hostages quiet.”

The plan had gone off without a hitch. We entered through the back door. I guessed the passkey based on the oils left behind on the electronic lock’s number pad by employees. It gave us the time we needed to secure the building and take hostages before the cops arrived.

Now, the vault was wide open. The bank manager had been marginally harder to intimidate than I’d expected, but he caved in the end. After all, none of this was his money. He wasn’t being paid to risk his life, certainly not for shit that was insured in the first place.

The only hiccup was Panacea, Amy Dallon. I’d seen her among the hostages. Of course I recognized her; she was arguably the most famous face in the city, the only one with real, national renown.

She said nothing, but I could see her glaring mulishly up at us. We were lucky that she didn’t have a panic button. Glory Girl would probably hear about the robbery and come flying over in short order, but at least she wasn’t directly being summoned.

It was just my luck, proof positive that the universe had it out for me. It wasn’t like we could withdraw, either; our shitty boss needed the bank robbery to happen today, at this exact time. I hadn’t figured out what for exactly, but we were obviously a distraction for something else. Knowing that bastard, he did this on purpose to pull New Wave on our heads.

I didn’t bring it up. Why bother? There was no point mentioning it to Grue. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it at this point.

The best thing for us to do now was to just take the money and get out as fast as possible, preferably before her sister dropped in. No casualties, just a small inconvenience to Panacea’s day.

Grue and I did our best to clear out the vault. The bills went into several duffel bags. They were about half full when the room filled with the stink of stagnant water. It was like a swamp, or a fish tank that hadn’t been cleaned in too long.

I whirled immediately and began running for the exit. Bundles of hundreds fell from my half-closed duffel bag, but I couldn’t be bothered. “Fuck! Monarch incoming! Grue!”

“On it!” he shouted back. He didn’t hesitate; he’d admitted that Monarch scared the piss out of him. His smoke poured out behind us as we stormed into the lobby. “Regent! We’re leaving!”

He heard the panic in Grue’s voice and shot to his feet. “What? Did Tats fuck up a plan again?”

“Not now! Monar–Behind you!”

He wasn’t fast enough. The stale stench of swamp water was noticeable in the enclosed space of the vault, not so in the spacious lobby. I should have known, though. Coil had me study her for long enough. 

Monarch was the newest heavy-hitter in the Bay. She won the fucking power lottery, with a decent brute package, regeneration, bug control, and hydrokinesis. She was the mother of all grab bags that had the Empire running, the girl who broke and seemingly decided to make it every Nazi’s problem.

Worst of all, she even had some protection against thinker powers. That had been annoying to find out. I could guess at her personality, draw conclusions about which Empire stashes she was about to hit, or figure out the full length of her territory. But for whatever reason, the exact limits of her powers were a mystery. It was like my power didn’t understand what it was looking at. The only saving grace there was that Coil didn’t seem to know, either.

That, and her apparent grudge against the Empire. Never once had she hit an ABB stash or safehouse. She didn’t go hunting down Skidmark or look for Squealer’s workshop. I knew she’d happily fight any villain if they appeared before her, but as far as targeted strikes went, she hyper-fixated on the Empire as if they killed her parents.

And now, today of all days, she’d decided to break her pattern. Here she was, intervening in a crime far outside her stomping grounds. I wanted to tear my hair out. Or shoot someone.

Regent went down when a crab the size of a small child leapt onto his back. He flailed, power no doubt lashing out to grab at a nervous system that didn’t exist. Those things were mostly water. Even if he reached for the crab inside, its body was too foreign for him to control. 

A pit formed in my stomach. Monarch didn’t show mercy. Her crab sat on his back and grabbed either arm with its pincers. With a deliberate twist, it pulled and twisted, wrenching his arms from their sockets.

I whirled as my teammate screamed. All around, more and more crabs appeared. Twenty in all, hilarious overkill to deal with us. I’d seen these things take hits from Hookwolf. Bitch’s dogs were the only ones who could even break one of those constructs and we’d left them outside for a faster getaway.

The hostages were a lost cause. I was tempted to make the bitch pay, shoot a hostage and try to get her to back off, but I knew better. She had enough crabs here to babysit each hostage while still leaving plenty to deal with us. I decided then; I fucking hated masters.

The darkness flooded the lobby. I felt a hand on my shoulder, dragging me along. It was Grue, not that I needed my power to tell me that. I let him lead me towards the exit.

“What’s the plan? What do we do?” I heard. He sounded muffled, as if he was speaking underwater. 

“Out! We can get Regent later,” I shouted back. Honor among thieves was well and good, but I wasn’t about to fight a doomed battle just so crab-girl could twist my arms off, ironically like a steamed crab.

Monarch was probably around here somewhere. Her range was annoyingly large for a master, but she had a lot of ego. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have taken territory like a warlord; heroes had no need for that sort of thing.

Hers was an ego born of desperation, the kind that came about only when broken people found a purpose. She needed to matter, needed to see with her own eyes that she was making a difference. Everything I knew about her said she’d want to be here in-person, or at least close by. She tended to be more cautious with real threats, but… we weren’t threats.

Our best bet was to divide her focus. If we left Regent and the hostages, then disappeared in the smoke, she’d have to choose between trying to follow us or securing the bank. And since her bugs’ senses would be muted in the smoke, odds were good that she’d choose the bank over us.

Then, I felt it, a prick on my neck. Another, then a third and fourth. More, because the crazy bitch didn’t know the meaning of restraint. The stings trailed down my spine, leaving behind a constellation of burning agony.

I couldn’t help it; I thrashed in place, reacting on instinct as my body felt like it was being cremated from the inside out.  I screamed, my voice joined by Grue’s.

Yellowjacket, my power informed me.

Fat lot of good that did. It was like being told lava burned before being tossed into the heart of a volcano anyway. 

There was an impact, a dull thud. Something flew past me. Judging by the muffled grunt, it was Grue. I didn’t have time to worry about him because a heavy boot collided into my ribcage. I felt a dull crack inside as I was skipped across the bank’s marble floor like a stone.

Slowly, the smoke cleared. Monarch loomed over me. She looked like something that crawled out of the bayou, with damp hair and a faceless mask that reminded me of a pale corpse.

I knew then that it was over. If she was here, looking downright lazy, then Bitch had already gone down, and without me ever finding out about it. But would have made her dogs rage.

Dogs are dead. Bitch unconscious. Dogs no longer controlled. Put down. Feels nothing for them.

I shivered at the cold glare in her eyes. “You’re a monster.”

“Am I?” she asked, shrugging ambivalently. “I’m not the one taking hostages.”

“Only one of us has a body count and it’s not me.”

“If that’s what it takes to clean up this city, so be it. I’ll be the monster.”

I laughed, hollow. “You think that’s what you’re doing? What happens when you’re done? When you’re the only monster left?”

“Sounds like a good day. I’ll look forward to it.”

“You… You really don’t care, do you? You ripped Regent’s arms out of their sockets. You broke Grue’s ribs. You killed Bitch’s dogs. None of it bothers you because you’re a fucking monster.”

“Because you’re criminals.”

“This was a victimless crime,” I shouted, before the cracked ribs reminded me that I wasn’t exactly doing so hot, either. “The bank’s insured, you crazy bitch. We could’ve gone in and out and–hrk!”

Monarch kicked me in the gut again. When the world stopped spinning, I curled up onto my side and vomited on the marble floor. I laid there on my own, cooling vomit, trying to form words from breath I didn’t have. My power was on the fritz trying to read her.

There was something wrong with her. This girl wasn’t neurodivergent. She wasn’t a sociopath. Regent, the son of motherfucking Heartbreaker, was my teammate. I knew what those looked like.

She was something else, something empty inside. There was a cold callousness that even my power couldn’t put to words. It was almost as if she wasn’t even human.

“What the fuck are you?” I croaked out.

“Like you said, a monster.”

Her boot smashing into my head was the last thing I saw.

X

Taylor Hebert

I stood over Tattletale’s unconscious body. Her hair was damp with sweat and vomit. That made two down.

I headed over to Grue. He was nominally their leader, but I had my doubts. His power wasn’t much and it sounded like Tattletale was the one with all the intelligence. Was he a patsy then? A reasonably intimidating sock puppet for her to talk through?

It didn’t matter. Smoke began to curl around him. I sent my hornets in his biker jacket. They wriggled against his collar, far too deep for him to remove easily.

“Try to hide in your power and you die here and now,” I said, voice steady. Murder, or threat thereof, got a lot easier. I wasn’t sure what to feel about that.

He stilled. Two of my constructs scuttled over to him and Regent. They curled their eight legs together, forming a compact straitjacket that forced their arms to their sides.

Things moved quickly after that. The cops came inside. They looked at me like I was no better than the villains, as if I’d snap and attack them the first chance I got.

The hostages weren't any different. Their eyes were filled with fear barely covered by fragile smiles. Truthfully, it stung more than I cared to admit.

I was strong. I was swift. I was efficient. Not a single one of them had even a scratch.

Wasn’t that enough?

Author’s Note

Crusader’s clones/projections phase through inorganic matter. This lets him hit people regardless of armor, or through walls, but also provides zero protection. Oni Lee can just tele-bomb his whole squad.

Welp, bank scene. You know, I think this is only the second time I’ve ever written it.

Animal Fact: Toads and frogs are considered some of the better indicator species for environmental and ecological health. This is because they don’t drink water like we do. Instead, they absorb it through their skin.

Because of this, a toad or frog doesn’t really have a way to stop drinking. This makes them very susceptible to pollutants so they’re often some of the first to die out.