Got Gal, Issue #005

Issue #005 – – – – – controlled by Keith Nixon – – – – – Credits 109

It did not take Got Gal long to decide what she wanted to do.  After all, it wasn’t as if she had a whole lot of options.  In the old days she was pretty sure she’d have gone and met the public – put them at ease.  That didn’t seem a good idea given what things appeared to be like now.  She thought that finding Captain Courage was an idea that had some legs, but it was also potentially disastrous.  After all, he was working with the authorities here.  The same authorities whose agents she’d just delivered a severe beating to.  Her encounter with them hadn’t filled her with confidence that there was much help to be had there.

“What’s the best way to contact a superhero?” She mused aloud as she cruised over the city.  A light wind had picked up and the new moisture in the air suggested rain wouldn’t be far behind.  She quite enjoyed flying in the rain, but the fact is she needed some clothes and somewhere to crash down and think about her next move.   She was over the suburbs right now and could see a great many examples of exactly what she was looking for.  Clothes.  On washing lines.  This wasn’t going to be her proudest day – but needs must.  This was an emergency situation.  She needed to get to it too, because those drying clothes weren’t going to be hanging outside for long if the weather turned.

A little later she felt nearly human again.  She was dressed in some tight blue jeans, a snug white T-shirt that accentuated her figure and a light blue shirt tied at her waist.  She could do with a bath and some sleep, but at least her super-heroic nature was no longer obvious.  Which was lucky because several police helicopters had passed overhead.  She imagined that news of her fight with the special ops guys was spreading fast.  Instead of flying, she was walking, and although it had spat a little the rain had not yet really materialised.  She pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and slipped them on.  She’d spotted them on a small table by a cook-out grill.  She felt a little guilty.  It hadn’t taken much to turn her into a petty criminal.  She sighed.  There was probably going to be more of this while she got her bearings.  She’d have to do some really, really good deeds to make up for it.

Walking the streets of the suburbs she thought that of all the parts of the city she’d seen, this area was least transformed.  The strong bond of families and neighbours meant that the darkness she’d noticed elsewhere was held, at least partially, at bay.  There were too many shady characters in doorways selling illicit packets of some sort of drug or another to youngsters.  Where run-down houses and unmowed lawns had used to be rare, there were rather more now.  The creeping hand of decay could be seen – but its reach was limited here.  It gave her hope.

She didn’t really know what she was going to achieve by wondering aimlessly.  The Suburbs had always been her haunt.  The maze of streets all looked quite similar with the flowerbeds and the automated watering systems and the Jerrys and Maggys and Peggys who called this place home.  It was comfortably bland and deceptively quiet.  She knew that much more went on behind these walls than people could imagine and that even here trouble and danger lurked where you least expected it.  She was worried about her predicament, but her mood was buoyant.  It usually was.  She was a happy sort of person.  And it had been several hours since she’d had to crawl in a sewer pipe.  This may be a new record.

“Miss?” A voice called out.  She glanced across and saw an elderly man walking a small dog.  The mutt was a mongrel, so mixed in lineage that no trace of any discernible breed remained.  “Hello?” She replied.  Unsure why he was hailing her, but ready for trouble.  She couldn’t really see how this old fellow was going to be any trouble, to be honest, but she had learned not to judge a book by its cover.  “Are you lost?” The man asked.
“Lost?  No.  Why would you think that?” She asked.
“I don’t mean lost, geographically,” He said.  She thought that an odd comment.  Was he some kind of nut?
“I’m sorry,” She said, “I don’t understand.”  While thinking: don’t mess with me, my friend.  I can kick balls into space.
“Sometimes,” The Old Man said, “You have to just trust in a stranger.”  He smiled.  It was a kindly smile.
She smiled back: “Are you hitting on me?” She laughed.
“Maybe thirty years ago,” He said.  Then smiled again: “Or forty.  I have a knack of finding people who need help.  It’s been with me a long time.  If you’d like, you can come back with me and share a cup of coffee and a cheese sandwich.  You look like you need it.”
She eyed him cynically: “No offence, but I don’t know you and you don’t know me.  You shouldn’t make assumptions about people.”  Though a cheese sandwich really did sound good.

Just then the air filled with the sound of a helicopter again.  Only, unlike the earlier sweeps, this one was much lower.  Odd.  Why?
“You should come with me,” The man said, more urgently now.  “They’re looking for you and they have a Brain with them.  She’ll be able to detect you.”
Got Gal strode across the road and grabbed the old man by his lapels.  “How do you know?” She demanded.  Obviously, he was not what he seemed.
“No time to explain,” He said.  “I’m not with them.  You can trust me.  Let me take you somewhere safe.”
Well, she thought, I am a fugitive desperado.  She grinned a little at the idea, realising that it wasn’t something that she should take pleasure in, but taking pleasure in it anyway.  It was kinda cool.  “I’ll come with you,” She said, “But any funny business and I’ll put the beat-down on you.  Old or not.  Don’t think I wont.”
“Don’t worry,” He said, hurrying on and beckoning for her to follow.  “No funny business.  I am fairly sure that even at my age, particularly at my age, having tender parts of my anatomy propelled into space is not something I want to experience.”
“Good,” She nodded, following close behind.

That helicopter was way too low.  She suddenly wanted out of here quite badly.  She could almost feel somebody prodding about with their mind.  It was creepy.  “Oh,” She added as an afterthought.  “If you know anything about Captain Courage, that would be useful too.”
The old man stopped.  “Captain Courage?  Why?”
“I want to meet him,” She said.  “Do you have information?”
“Oh I know plenty about Captain Courage,” The Old Man growled.  “That bastard killed my wife.”