Got Gal, Issue #004

Issue #004 – – – – – controlled by Keith Nixon – – – – – Credits 111

She’d thought about returning to the sewers, but given that some of his wounds were open she decided that adding severe infection to the fallen man’s problems was probably stretching how brutal she was prepared to be.  Having found an alcove behind a Szechuan restaurant beyond the site of nosy bystanders, Got Gal checked over the fallen man’s wounds.  She splinted his arms with her steel batons – which was fine.  They’d been useful, but she was Got Gal, not Baton Girl.  The unwritten superhero rules were very clear on this subject – you can’t just permanently adopt a new weapon that’s never been part of your public persona before.  It’d be like Superman started to carry an uzi – made no sense.  Of course, she thought ruefully, Superman is just a fictional character.  Real life doesn’t always play by the rules.

First things first she checked him for tracking devices.  He was wearing a weird metal belt, which she removed and deposited at the far end of the alleyway.  Then she took his wallet and threw it over the roof.  She had a good arm.  It probably landed in the next state.  After some fairly basic first aid, Flying Guy regained some of his colour and his breathing became less laboured.  Satisfied that she’d done her duty as a card-carrying Good Guy, Got Gal shook him awake.  “Hey there, fella,” she said.  “Time you and I had a chat.”  The man’s eyes opened and filled with fear.  He tried to struggle, but his splinted arms and her knee on his midriff made that difficult.  “Stop messing about.  You can’t get away.  Time to talk.”
“What?” the man asked, sullenly.  There was a mixture of anger and terror in his eyes.
“Who are you and who do you work for?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” the man said.
“No?” Got Gal asked, pressing her knee into his stomach with just a touch of her massive enhanced strength.  He gasped.  “How about now?” She asked.  “Or perhaps you’d prefer I drop you down a manhole and leave you to the rats?”
“Okay, okay,” he relented.  She eased off the pressure.

“I’m Officer Philip Lawrence.  I’m a Special Operations And Patrols officer for the City Department of Justice.
“Is that acronym S.O.A.P?” Got Gal asked, amazed.  “That’s the best they could come up with?”
“I didn’t choose it,” He complained.
“So what do you Soapers do?” she asked.
“We deal with Abnormal criminal activities and apprehend unlicensed vigilantes and superpowered individuals.”
“So how did you find me?”
“Just luck.  We were heading back to base and we saw you zoom up into the sky.  You were hard to miss.”
“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Got Gal protested.  “Don’t you have real criminals to chase?”
“All Abnormals must report to the state and be licensed.  It is a serious offense to fail to do so.”
“Maybe in Soviet Russia,” she told him.  “But this is America.”
“Did you just wake up from a coma?” the officer asked.
“Something like that,” Got Gal admitted.

“Tell me about The Institute.   One of you mentioned it earlier?” Got Gal asked.
The man frowned, as if he couldn’t believe she didn’t know this.  “It’s where all the government science geeks work,” He said.  “High-powered Abnormals, what are known as Type As, are taken there for research and investigation.  Sometimes Type Bs and Type Cs too, but not so often – it just depends what sort of powers you have.  If you’re a flip-n-kick, or a blockbuster, they aren’t so interested.  But any of the weird stuff, you know, magic and psionics and all that strange shit, they love all that.”
“What do they do to people there?” She asked.
“No idea,” he replied.  “I’ve never been inside.  Dropped a few off.  Must be pretty grim, since not too many come back out again.  Those that do are either working for the state or are no longer a threat to society.”
“No longer a threat?  What do you mean?” Got Gal growled.
“Sometimes they haven’t got powers anymore.  Sometimes they scoop ’em.”
“Scoop them?”
“You know,” the officer said, “A little surgery on the brain.  Make them docile.”

Got Gal controlled her anger.  She needed information and now wasn’t the time to lose her cool.  Maybe later.
“How long has the city been like this?” she asked.
“Like what?” The officer looked bemused.
“Like this?  Dark.  Messed up.  All different.”
“This is how it’s always been.  Nothing wrong with it.  What are you talking about?” The man replied.
“What heroes are still around?” She demanded.
“A handful of licensed heroes.  Captain Courage.  The Midnight Runner.  Wild Thing.  A few others.  Some Type Bs are still on the loose.  Lots of Dregs which the city tolerates unless they make too much of a spectacle or are too obvious.  Loads of Subnormals that nobody much cares about as long as they stay out of the way and don’t try to fit into decent society.”
“Have you ever heard of Got Gal?” She asked, curious.
He shrugged: “Nope.  Should I have?”

“Okay, one last question,” She said.  “How do you fly?”
“The belt,” he said.  “Coded to my DNA so there’s no point trying to steal it.  Special equipment for S.O.A.P. agents.”
“Can it be tracked?” She asked.
“What do you think?” He asked slyly.  “When we don’t check in they’ll come looking for me.”
“Good,” Got Gal said.  “That means I don’t have to worry about getting you medical attention.  Good luck with those broken arms.  Multiple fractures I think.  I doubt you’ll be playing racketball any time soon.”  He swore at her.   She just laughed.
“Oh,” she added.  “You tell your bosses Got Gal’s back and I’m going to clean up this town! The way Wild Bill did Abilene! And I’ll come for anybody that tries to stop me!”
Then she was gone, her lithe form shooting straight up into the sky.

Now what?  Got Gal hovered just above the low clouds where she couldn’t be easily seen.    She used to have a nice apartment somewhere in the city, she knew that.  But try as she might she could not remember where it had been.  Which also meant she had no civilian clothes, no belongings.  Where and how was she going to rest?  And eat?  Surely she wasn’t the only one to find this new reality strange and jarring?  What she really needed was a few dependable allies.  What heroes had he said were still active?  Captain Courage?  She seemed to remember he was quite a bigwig.  Was he worth checking out?