Myke Phoenix 4: Night of the Superstorm

Act 4: Day break

"One for you, one for me. Two for you, one, two for me. Three for you, one, two, three for me." With a broad grin on his face, Jennings was motioning with his hands as if doling out cash.

"What in Sam's hill are you doing?" Pookie asked, not at all amused.

"Haven't you ever seen that movie? It's hilarious."

"Jennings, you mean to say you saw a movie where they hid the loot in a moosehead, and you didn't think to look until the broad did?"

"I –" The underling's face sank as he realized he'd goofed rather badly. "No, sorry."

The moosehead itself was bolted to the wall much more securely than need be, indicating that the millionaire always intended for the dead animal head to double as his cash stash. Once the head was emptied, Dr. Skull and his now-cheerful minions had taken possession of $770,000.

"Not bad for a single night's work," the little man with the thick glasses chirped. "All right then, let's pack up and get to the boathouse."

The refugees' clothes had dried by the fire, and they were dressed or in the process of getting dressed with the exception of the professor, who lay on the couch alternately glaring at the criminals and clenching his fists in pain.

The exotic blonde walked up and knelt beside him.

"Thank you for trying to stop them, that was very brave," she said, and placed a hand on his.

His grimace softened considerably. "Well. You're welcome. I – ow! – do wish I had thought it through a little more."

"I need you to know," she said, lowering her voice. "You saved my life. I've been thinking of killing myself, but this has showed me how much there is to live for."

"Killing yourself?" His eyes widened. "Why?"

"People think being beautiful is a wonderful thing," she said. "Well, of course it is, but the way I look is only part of who I am. And so many men think they can just – never mind. It's – it's complicated. I just needed you to know. I don't know how I can ever thank you."

"Dinner? A cup of coffee? And I promise not to mention that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She smiled sheepishly, a quick smile that faded when she looked over his shoulder. Dr. Skull stood over them with the broad grin that seemed never to leave his face.

"I do want to apologize for the knee. I believe this will make your medical expenses a bit more manageable," he said, tossing two of the $10,000 packets onto the professor's chest.

A jumble of emotions and possible rejoinders rippled across the professor's face, and all he managed to say was, "Go to hell."

"Been there, done that," the cheery villain said, turning and waving a hand. "Hell is not at all what everyone says it is."

He gathered his henchmen at the door to the great hall and looked at the seven bedraggled shipwreck survivors.

"It has been a charming night, and thank you, Mrs. Phillips, for finding our earnings," he said. "The storm has subsided, and since you have all lost your phones, I believe it's safe for us to assume you won't be discussing this with the authorities for a little while. Have a lovely life."

And with that, the bad guys departed.

A few minutes passed, and in the distance they heard the sound of a boat motor starting. It was the mighty roar of a powerful speedboat clearing the mansion's boathouse. By dawn's early light they could see a number of trees that had been toppled and standing water in large puddles everywhere. Across Astor City, and the entire region, no doubt downed trees and power lines and high water were causing havoc.