Superpowers In A World Gone Mad
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Countdown, Issue #006

July 25, 2013 in Countdown Tags:

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Issue #006 – – – – – controlled by Rene Sawatzki – – – – – Credits 58

“Listen bitch,” The bearded biker roared at the smartly-dressed casino woman.  “You’re gonna pay out.  We all won fair and square.”
“We’ll see,” The woman said with a cold smile.  “What made you all bet on the same number?”
“We wanted to,” Another man, his arms a mass of tattoos, told her.  “Is there a law against it?”~
“There is a law against using super powers to interfere with our equipment,” She replied, smoothly.
“We ain’t Abnormal,” Beard said, pointing a finger at the woman.  “We play straight.  Lucky Sevens don’t cheat.”
The woman turned her gaze on Countdown, who was trying to avoid any attention.  “What about you?” She asked.
“What about me?” Countdown shrugged.
“On the security monitor it looked like you were central to this.  You were talking to the girl when the others joined her for the bet.”
“So?”  Countdown frowned.  “Are customers not allowed to speak to one another?”

“You gonna pay up, or is there gonna be trouble?”  Beard asked.  The other bikers, more of whom were arriving from other corners of the casino by the minute, muttered and cheered and shouted support for their leader.  The two casino guards either side of the woman in white drew paired fighting batons from inside their expensive jackets.  They did look ready to fight.  “How about this,” The Woman said.  “We’ll scan you all for extranormal abilities.  If nobody has them, we’ll pay you plus an extra fifty percent for your trouble.  If one of you is an Abnormal, then you must all leave immediately and no winnings will be paid out.”  Countdown expected the bikers to agree to this and was preparing to make his getaway when, abruptly, all hell broke loose.  The trigger for the massive melee that was to follow was Hell Bitch’s call to arms: “They’re on to us!”

The next thing he knew, Countdown was in the middle of a spectacular fight.  Punches (and glasses) were thrown.  Somebody arrived with a pool cue and bust it over somebody else’s head.  Bullets whined through the air.  People shouted, and bellowed and screamed.  Four bikers had one of the security men by the arms and legs and literally ran him through one of the huge plate glass windows head first, to tumble broken and bloody on the street outside.  The other guard was a blur with his battle batons, striking bikers on all sides (and at least one ordinary punter who was just trying to escape the chaos.)  Hell Bitch’s hands burst into flame and with a gesture of her wrists the carpeted floor in front of her burst ablaze.  Above, automatic sprinklers clicked on, showing everybody below with icy water.

Beard tried to grab the women in white, his arms splitting the sleeves of his black shirt as the biceps and triceps swelled to ridiculous proportions.  But she was quicker, dodging agilely to one side and turning a cartwheel while firing purple energy from her eyes.  All around people were being hit by super-powered attacks.  More security guards arrived, firing bullets into the bikers.  One guard was equipped with a samuri sword, one sweep of which took a biker’s arm off at the elbow.  It was all Countdown could do to reverse so that his back was against an enormous slot machine.  One Millions Chance To Win One Million Dollars the enticing legend above his head promised.  (Ridiculous odds were printed in tiny text on the switch plate of the machine, which Countdown estimated to be inaccurate by a fairly substantial amount.  He then decided he would be better concentrating on not being killed than analysing the mathematical claims of the game.)

To his left Countdown saw a small group of well-armed guards peppering a handful of bikers that were charging them with bullets.  The missiles bounced off the lead biker’s chest, but two others went down with bloody wounds in their chests.  Glancing to the side, Countdown noticed that a guard was coming at Beard at an oblique angle.  The biker couldn’t see his assailant and was about to be shot in the face.  This, Countdown considered, would really ruin his day.  “No!” The hero said and reached back into his fast-depleting energy well to hold time again.  Carefully, so carefully, Countdown plucked the bullet from the air and placed it tip-first against the wall.  Then he let time speed up again and the bullets whine was followed by a cloud of dust as it struck the solid surface it had been placed against.  The guard looked astonished that he had missed.  Countdown was standing behind him, where the timeslip had left him standing.  He struck the guard over the back of the head and watched him slump to the ground.

“Come on!” Hell Bitch grabbed him by the arm and Countdown could see the Lucky Sevens were making their escape.  A number of them had grabbed items of value including armfuls of chips.  (Not much use to them, Countdown thought, but now didn’t seem the time to point this out.)  Nodding, he followed the woman out into the night.  A number of the gang’s members did not emerge to climb aboard their bikes.  Fallen to bullets or still fighting, Beard didn’t seem to care.  As soon as he was astride his mechanical behemoth he signalled that the others should follow and accelerated down the street.  Hell Bitch grinned at Countdown.  “Coming?” She asked.
“Where?” Countdown wanted to know.
“The open road,” Hell Bitch laughed.  “Or stay!”  She pointed at the armed guards which were spilling out onto the street.  “And have them shoot you because they think you have superpowers.”  But I do have superpowers, Countdown wanted to say.  But this was another thing now probably wasn’t the time for.
“Okay,” He said, climbing onto the bike behind the girl.
“Hold tight,” She said.  He wrapped his arms around her waist and then the engine was roaring and the wind was blasting into their faces and the bikers – Countdown included – were screaming off into the hot city night.

For about an hour, the Gang roared along roads.  Out of the city and onto the main interstate towards San Francisco, with the traffic parting before them as though the very presence of the gang were like a hot knife and the other road users merely butter.  Finally, when it was clear they weren’t being followed by casino security or by the police, the gang slowed and pulled off the highway and into a rest stop parking lot.  Above, the moon shone between the clouds and lit the area with its baleful silvery luminance.  When they had stopped, Countdown climbed off the bike and watched as Beard approached him. The other bikers fell in around what definitely seemed to be their leader.
“You saved my life back there,” Beard said.  Countdown was surprised the biker knew that he’d done anything at all.  “I know a thing or two,” Beard explained.  “I’ve been fighting Abnormals all my life.”
“But you are an Abnormal,” Countdown said.  “I saw your arms grow.  You’re really strong.”
“Not really,” Beard grinned, “Poundcakes is much stronger than me.”  He indicated a woman biker.  Not Hell Bitch.
“You all have powers?” Countdown asked.
“No,” Beard laughed.  “Only a few of us.  But Douglas over there, the one with the brown goggles?  He makes super gadgets.  So even those without powers can be pretty effective in our gang.”
“The security thought you were cheating” Countdown said.
“I know,” Beard laughed.  “And it was you!  But don’t worry, we were cheating too!  Had been all night.  We’ve got two clairvoyants in the gang.  Though we only have one now,” He said sadly.  Countdown remembered the dark haired man who’d gone down in the first burst of bullets.
“Well, I saved you then you all saved me by helping me to get away,” Countdown pointed out.
“Fair enough,”  Beard nodded.  “Well, we’re heading South after we’ve grabbed a bite and some shut eye.  You’re welcome to travel along with us if you want to.  Anybody who fights by our side is welcome.”


2 Responses to “Countdown, Issue #006”

  1. Keith Nixon Says:

    Getcha yer motor running,
    Head out on the highway!

  2. False Bill Says:

    Road trip for countdown!!!

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