The Super Killer

Ch.10

The man talking to Heather was short and stout with fat lips and orange, tar-stained fingers. His face was dotted with many blemishes, and a hairy skin tag grew from his neck. When he spoke, he did so with a deep and tender infatuation with the sound of his own voice. He thought he was important, so Heather called him the important man. Heather stood because that's what the important man expected of her. She followed him out of the brightly lit room and into a hallway where an even brighter light stung her eyes. She dodged a secretary and rounded a sharp corner before she stopped and was met by another self-appointed important person.

Mrs. Stone spoke to the important man, and the important man said something to Mrs. Stone, who quipped back, "You must've lost a lot of money because of me." They spoke quickly while smiling like children playing a game—that Mrs. Stone won—and Heather was handed off like a prize. Heather followed her boss out of the police station and into the rain. A long, black limousine pulled up to the curb. Heather followed Mrs. Stone inside. The door closed and the rain beat down hard on the car's rooftop. For a moment, the downpour was all Heather could hear.

Mrs. Stone snapped her fingers. "Hey, you there?"

A fog lifted and Heather asked, "Where am I?"

"Apparently not. Do you have any idea how much trouble you just caused me? They were going to arrest you."

"For what?" she asked docilely.

"Conspiracy. They had your posts about Superman's death, the text messages with the killer, and...how they found you. They thought they caught you in the act, but it was all circumstantial bullshit that would never hold up in a legitimate court."

Heather flashed back to the dungeon. The wall pads and the odd shower. The pool of blood in the basin. The blood in her mouth. She closed her eyes and asked, "Why am I not at the hospital?"

"Excuse me?"

She shouted, "Why am I not at the hospital!"

Mrs. Stone grabbed a prescription bottle from the empty seat next to her. "You've been at the hospital all day. They cleaned you and stitched your chin. Here." Mrs. Stone took a green pill from the bottle and handed it to Heather. "Take this. Kevin said it would help you."

Heather swallowed the pill without needing water and ran her hand across the fresh bandage under her chin, as if needing confirmation that what her boss said was true. Heather sat back in the seat and closed her eyes.

"You'll need a visit to the hospital in a couple weeks to get those removed."

Heather was silent and breathed for several minutes until the benzo worked its chemical magic, and the memories of blood and waves were replaced by the lights in her mind. Didn't he call them phosphenes? She opened her eyes, and for the first time, she noticed that her white sneakers were replaced with cheap plastic sandals. "What happened to my clothes?"

"They were destroyed as per hospital protocol, even though everyone knows a super's blood doesn't affect normal people."

"My children! Kevin!"

"They're fine. Your children are with your mother-in-law and will stay with her for the night, and Kevin is on his way back from Shanghai. His flight gets in tomorrow morning, and there will be a car waiting for him."

"But how?"

"I took care of everything. It's the least I could do. It was stupid of me to use tough love and push you into a dangerous situation that almost took your life. I'm sorry. No medal is worth that price."

Heather sunk into her seat and admitted, "I'm not strong enough to last."

"Well, start doing your push-ups because you're not going anywhere."