Lionheart Chronicles, Issue #005

Issue #005 – – – – – controlled by Fraser Machin – – – – – Credits 2

The inside of the industrial complex was a ruin.  Some of the halls and rooms were empty, others were full of smashed and broken furniture.  The place smelt odd, a cross between a garbage dump and a old hospital, the combination being fairly unpleasant.  Nevertheless, it proved to be as useful as Lionheart had hoped.

The group were gathered in a large room that had once been a canteen.  Lionheart had split them into teams and sent them out to search the complex.They had light thanks to Fe Guerrero who had secured a small generator and fuel during their brief search of the building for useful items and had turned out to be quite an experienced electrician while connecting it all up.  Truck and Neanderthal had returned with heavy wheeled gurneys and bedding which meant that they all had something comfortable to sleep on.  Man Mountain found some food – though it was limited to some dried and tinned goods he’d turned up in an old store room.  They weren’t going to be dining fine with powered custard and milk, chunks of fruit and tins of stewed steak in gravy, but neither were they going to starve.

“Anybody see any weapons?” Lionheart asked.
“Nothing boss,” Sally Slab confirmed.  “But this place is immense.  We’ve barely seen a fraction of it.”
“We’ll explore more later,” Lionheart said.  “Right now I want to talk to you all.”
“What about?” Neanderthal rumbled.
“We’ve got a safe place to hole up,” Lionheart said, “But what do you all want to do next?  What’s the plan?”
“If we had a plan,” Fe Guerrero said bitterly, “We wouldn’t have ended up fighting in the Gentleman King’s arena.”
There were nodded assents from around the table.  Then Truck said: “What do you want to do?”
Lionheart frowned a moment and then said:  “Something weird is going on with me.  I don’t know what it is.  But at the same time I don’t like what you are telling me about the city.  I don’t like it at all.”
“Who does?” Sally asked.
“So I think we need to try and shake things up a bit.  Stop some of the crime, both that committed by the bad guys but also the crimes committed by the authorities.  I guess what I’m saying is that we have a team here.  We’ve all been through the ringer.  I think there is safety in numbers and it’s good to have friends.  So why not stick together and try to do something good?  We’ve got a lot of combined power here in this room.  Others have not.  Maybe we have a responsibility to help those who can’t help themselves?”
For a moment the others said nothing.  But then Truck said: “You got my vote, buddy,” and Sally Slab clapped his shoulder and suddenly the whole group were cheering.

Another few hours and the canteen was looking more homely.  They’d found a radio and an old TV, a bit more food, blankets and chairs.  At Lionheart’s instruction, Truck and Sally Slab had set up some basic traps through the building so that they might at least hear if anybody was approaching.  A system of watches was set up at the front of the complex to keep an eye out for intruders.  Man Mountain and Area51 were tasked with searching deeper into the many rooms and corridors that had not yet been investigated.  Fe Guerrero had gone out to try and “secure” some more fuel and had returned with a large metal drum full of it.  Nobody asked where he’d got it.

Lionheart had spent his time mapping out the parts of the building they were using.  He had four alternate routes of escape from the canteen – which was a useful base of operations since it had access to several areas and it was difficult to get bottled up if enemies tried to trap them there.   He had seen that this group, while powerful and dangerous, genuinely had no Alpha personalities to lead it, which is why they had so comfortably defaulted to him.   He’d made some notes about each of them.  Neanderthal was almost child-like, quick to anger, quick to forgive.  He was happiest when he was simply doing as he was told.  Sally Slab was clever and friendly and seemed to have fallen into a second-in-command position with casual ease.  Fe Guerrero was very smart and practical, though he had no time for bullshit whatsoever.  Area51 was something of a mystery, keeping to himself most of the time.  Nevertheless, he was perfectly reasonable and easy enough to get along with.  Man Mountain was the most problematic of the group.  He had a bit of a mean streak and could be surly and difficult.  But he generally did as he was told.  Truck was the most affable of the group, with a very positive attitude.  But he was also somewhat naive.  Lionheart imagined people had been taking advantage of that his whole life.

“Hey look,” Neanderthal looked pleased with himself, “Look what I found!”  He had in his arms a huge pile of old materials.  Curtains, linen and the like.
“Great,” Man Mountain scoffed, “Some old cloth.  The world is saved.”
Neanderthal frowed at that but then said: “Boss said to find this stuff.”
“I did,” Lionheart confirmed.  “We are going to need costumes.  Can’t make costumes without cloth.   But we need other materials too.”
“There’s loads of it where this came from,” Neanderthal looked very pleased with himself.  “A whole big room full.”
“Any leather?” Sally Slab asked, hopefully.
“There’s old clothes too.  Some leather jackets,” Area51 confirmed, walking in behind Neanderthal and sporting a biker’s jacker.  “It’s a storeroom, but it looks like it was also some kind of lost property.  There’s plenty in there.  We should be able to do a lot with it.”
“Great!”  Lionheart nodded.  “Well done.”

“Hey!”  Fe Guerrero interrupted them.  “Listen to this!”  He’d been tinkering with the radio and trying to tune it to a station.  Apparently, he’d been successful because a news reporter was crackling out of the speakers.

“Breaking News!  The City Center has been brought to a standstill by the appearance of what appears to be a flying pirate ship.  The police confirm this may be the same ship that was responsible for the murders yesterday.  Individuals dressed in pirate costumes had dropped down on ropes and are presently ransacking the City Mutual Bank.  Police had secured the area but have not approached due to the apparent presence of a number of super-powered individuals.  The cities licensed Abnormal operatives have been contacted but none are as yet on scene.  If they do not arrive soon, these villains may escape with their Pieces Of Eight.”

“Pirates?”  Man Mountain said.  “Really?”
“Apparently,” Lionheart agreed.  “What do you all think?”
“What do you mean what do we think?”  Fe Guerrero asked.
“There’s an old truck at the back of the parking lot.  I found it earlier while I was mapping our escape routes.  It’s in poor condition, but it runs.  Do we want to get involved? We could be there in ten minutes.”
“Get involved?” Area51 tasted the words, like some new delicacy.
“We have to start sometime,” Lionheart said.  “But it’s up to you.”
“No boss,” Sally Slab told him, accenting the word deliberately.  “It isn’t.  It’s up to you.”