You want to get back to the enclave to get patched up. What you would give right now for a hot meal, a comfortable bed, and maybe some alone time with someone with a warm smile and a fondness for criminals. However, you need to play this smart: you can’t run straight home, nor can you really know what sort of powers this pack has behind it. You already know one of them can throw energy. Then there was the winged freak you blew up and Rubber Gut - the now bisected circus act. These were small players when it came to Super Zs, but all it would take is one to have the ability to sniff out footprints, and you’d lead them back to the encampment.
“Dog house,” you mutter into your walkie talkie.
After a few seconds, with a heavy sigh, Rubia responds. “Right. That’s how we’re playing it. What next?”
Rubia knows what the words mean: Ignore what I’m about to say and run. So when you tell her you’re going to meet the civilian family you left at the National Paradigm Bank, she plays along like a good soldier with moderate acting skills. You tell her you’’ll see her and Stevens shortly, and then you click off the radio.
You head out the door and through the building. It’s starting to get dark outside, so the limited light through the windows make it easy to stealth out and into the streets. You keep to the shadows, running as fast as your wounds will allow you to go. And by the time the sun is just starting to slip down past the skyscrapers overhead, you’re in front of the bank.
Nation Paradigm Bank was built a decade ago with what was then considered ‘advanced technology.’ Even if you took the thing off the grid, the windows and walls actually collected enough solar energy to keep the building powered. Some of the security and secondary systems wouldn’t remain on forever, but the essential things keeping the vault securely sealed were powered indefinitely.
The bank’s front door is locked and sealed, but someone threw a car through the nearby window at some point, allowing you to enter. As soon as your feet connect to the marble floor, the lights begin to flicker on, a few terminals humming to life. You look around the lobby, everything just like it had been in the blueprint you studied years ago. You can’t help but smile as this is a welcome reminder of how you use to spend your nights. You hear sounds of static before a flickering probe of light escapes from a small plate on the check counter next to you and a small hologram of a smiling woman in business casual greets you.
“Welcome to the National Paradigm Bank: Banking made easy. I’m your -”
You pluck up the holographic disc, the woman fizzing out, and pocket it as you make your way toward the back of the bank. You catch yourself plunging back into the role of the cat burglar, your mind warning of things such as pressure plates and sensors - yet those sorts of things don’t matter anymore. They were used merely to alert the authorities while the vault’s security was only meant to delay the thieves long enough for the police to arrive. Now that Johnny Justice wasn’t answering the phone, you don’t even bother avoiding the sensors. You march towards the vault in the back, pause at the still glistening steel of the door, and rub a hand along the curve of the metal.
You had always wanted the opportunity to rob the National Paradigm Bank. It was time to see if you still have what it takes to be the legendary Cheshire
*
Felix Uvery, formerly Platemail, had never made it into the big leagues of super heroics. He had tried and failed to secure a mentor in his early days,but no one seemed to care for the young hero with the ability to turn his skin into thick slabs of porcelain. Yet, ever the dreamer, Felix had fought during the undead uprising along side of the likes of Titan and Liberty Belle. He also died along with them.
When Felix awoke, he tried his best to sate his hunger, yet the heroes of old had risen with him. They had chased him off, stolen kills that were rightfully his, and had nearly ripped him apart twice just for their sick pleasure. Felix had learned early into his undead state that he needed a group. So he had found Gargoyle - a hero who looked more scary than he actually was - and then Rubber Gut. Along the way, he picked up Transistor, a boy who could detect radio waves, and then finally Canary, a teen side kick who could shape sound waves and throw them back at people as energy. All in all, a solid pack that eventually followed his lead.
Yet packs are fickle things. One slip of strength was met with violence and betrayal, and with the hero already killing Rubber Gut and Gargoyle, he could feel the eyes of his pack on him. They were evaluating if he had grown too weak to lead, too weak to lead them to warm flesh and screaming bodies.
So when Transistor had picked up the hero’s call, he was delighted to hear that the hero was heading off alone to pick up an entire family from where they were hiding.
Canary pulls back her lips, dried skin cracking at the motion as she spoke harsh words into her hands before redirecting it towards the door of the bank. The energy smashes into the wood and metal of the door, the material whining before buckling inward. Another blast follows before the door finally gives, crashing down into the lobby of the bank.
“Something is transmitting in the back,” Transistor hisses, his jaw coming unhinged at the end. He works the bone back into place as Platemail pushes him out of his way, moving into the bank. His porcelain-lined feet crunch down on the marble, echoing across the empty lobby.
“Going to send us in first, Captain?” Canary challenges. A swift backhand from Platemail is all the answer she gets before the man begins walking toward the doors in the back, both opened wide and welcoming.
“I smell flesh,” Platemail whispers before turning his focus towards the opened vault ahead. The soft whisper of a voice is heard, the smell of living blood causing his mouth to water. The others behind him must have sensed it as well because Platemail could hear their excited breath that none of them truly required. The growl from his empty intestines tugged at his mind, and the three of them charged the metal door and into the vault.
Platemail took another whiff of air, spinning around as the murmur of voices continued behind a stack of bank bags. Transistor was at his side. “Transmission!” he said as he thrust a partially bitten off finger toward the hiding spot. Canary didn’t even bother waiting for Platemail’s command. She whispered into her hands before releasing a burst of energy into the bags
A cloud of red smoke exploded outwards, caking the walls and surrounding area with red dye. Platemail stumbled back, his own undead eyes obscured by the smoke. The zombies next to him choked, Canary releasing another blast of energy blindly into the room resulting in something exploding.
“Welcome to the National Paradigm Bank: Banking made easy.”
Platemail collapsed to a knee, trying to avoid the rising cloud and spot the source of the voice. A holographic woman smiled towards the undead brute, a cut open blood packet resting beside it.
The voice and the smell.
And that’s when the vault behind the three was sealed shut.
***
You move from the bank, the cries of the undead mostly muffled as they beat at the vault door. The door was built to withstand super strength, giant lasers, and all sorts of different tricks that come with meta-human criminals so you’re not worried about how long it will hold the three. Long enough for their hunger to turn them against each other.
You step over the crushed door and out into the streets of Paradigm City. Zombies mull, hands outstretched and mouths hung open in long forgotten screams. Some of them spot you as you exit and turn to face you, but by the time they begin taking a step your way, you’re on the move again. You keep it at a leisurely pace, moving through alleys and shops. You run by the forgotten refugee camps that turned into undead prisons eventually for those that kept their faith in the government. You just continue running until you make it back to where your team had left the four-wheelers. Two of them have already been taken by your team. You slip onto the seat of the remaining vehicle, lets out a shuddering breath, and toss one last glance over your shoulder towards the dead city.
Titan had saved your life as a kid, and you rewarded his bravery with becoming a villain. You had robbed museums, helped bad men if they paid enough, and even delayed Titan once from foiling an operation resulting in possibly some embarrassment to the man. It isn’t that you don’t miss the excitement that came with being a cat burglar, but part of you has to acknowledge that you aren’t that same person from before the fall. You didn’t sacrifice your friends, you didn’t endanger your enclave, and you risked your own life for the good of your group.
As you start the ATV, you can’t help feel like a hero.
As corny as that sounds.
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