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Issue #19 by Steve Crosby
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“Small Town Anger”
Fire consumed their home.
In the dead of night they were visible in shadow, set against the blaze they ran from. Across the field they fled, these two who had struggled to build a life. An engine roared, and the pursuers appeared from the other side of the ruined life.
A shot rang out, and one fell to the ground with a cry. The other knelt over him, relieved to see the hip wound was only a graze. But he couldn’t run, and couldn’t be carried, and so they were caught.
The run-down truck halted a short distance away, and a half-dozen men disembarked. They all wore body armor, their features hidden behind helmets. The only identifying feature was on each chest plate, and insignia resembling a dog’s head. As one, the men drew up into formation, their rifles raised.
“Damn you all to hell.” She rose to her feet, her husband of three years leaning against her. Illuminated by the headlights they could be clearly seen, a clash against the black and white views of their attackers. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?”
“Watchdogs,” their leader, known as Watchdog-1, shouted out. “Open fire!”
# # # # #
“These stops are really getting on my nerves,” Cathy Webster said. She was leaning against the parked car, looking at her phone. “According to this, we should have made it by now.”
Steve Rogers was running toward her, finishing his third lap. “And each time you’ve defeated the purpose by standing around. Come on, Cathy. We can talk and run at the same time.”
Rolling her eyes, the woman also known as Free Spirit tucked away her phone and easily fell into place alongside Captain America. “This five-minutes-for-each-hour rule is ridiculous. Let alone your insistence we stop for each meal when the point of drive-thru is we don’t have to. Lunch took longer than it should have, with you chatting with everybody.”
“Those were volunteer firemen, and it was a chicken barbecue benefit,” Captain America said. “For one so intent on not wasting time, this is a conversation we could have had in the car, hours ago, when you weren’t staring at your phone. People talk all the time about time being saved, but what is actually done with that extra time? At least when children ask if they’re there yet, it’s because they want to be out of the car running around.”
Near where they were running, Free Spirit saw a large, shuttered building. “What is this, an old industrial park?”
Half-a-step behind her, Captain America nodded. “When the company moved on, this community lost hundreds of jobs. It’s the beginning of an old pattern, and I thought we could see about halting it at the start.”
“Stopping people getting their unemployment checks?” Free Spirit snorted. “Whatever you might see happen in other impoverished areas, it won’t happen in America. Our government pays a lot to keep it peaceful.”
“All the handouts won’t salve a man’s pride,” Captain America said. “People feel worthless and angry and eager to blame other for their lot in life. Usually the easy targets; people just a little worse off. I just want to get a sense of things around here.”
“And if you’re right, then what?” The car was back in sight, and Free Spirit ran towards it. “This doesn’t sound like a problem you can just throw a shield at. Or worse, throw them in jail where they lose all hope and just give in to the anger completely.”
Reaching the car, Free Spirit stopped. She expected Captain America to be next to her, or just behind her. But she turned to find him a dozen yards away. He stopped on the other side of the car, a grin on his face.
“Maybe I can help someone run toward a solution, instead of away from a problem.” He opened the door. “Break’s over, you can get back to your phone.”
But after several minutes on the road, Cathy still hadn’t looked at her phone. She was looking at Steve, wondering. Finally, she said it. “Okay, let’s not pretend that didn’t just happen. I out ran you.”
Steve sighed. “Cathy, I’m not super-human. You, Jack, Jessica, Sam and…and Jack, you all are, but I’m peak human. I recently met a young man who’s my equal thanks to diet and exercise. Well, and probably an application of eugenics. The point is, I may be more capable than most people, but it is achievable by most people. And being surprised that you’re capable of more, you do yourself a disservice.”
Up the road was a line of cars. Armed men were on the road, checking with drivers. It looked to be a standard police check, except none of those men wore uniforms. Cathy quickly checked her phone.
“There doesn’t appear to be any local emergency that would require armed volunteers.”
“Not unless you count that raid by federal authorities on a clinic,” Captain America said. “I know Excalibur was shutting down a resource for super-criminals, but the clinic’s lawyers used the news to spin a very different tale. These people could be reacting to perceived government overreach or a dozen other things. Just stay calm and we should make it past okay.”
But when they neared the end of the line and an armed man asked for their ID, Free Spirit responded with, “Where’s your badge?” She burst out of the car and got into the man’s face. “What gives you the right to disrupt traffic? To ask me for papers?”
Instinctively, the man raised his rifle sideways between himself and Free Spirit. A few of the other armed men also raised their guns. They were beginning to feel threatened by this woman that appeared to be 90 pounds, soaking wet.
“Shut up, you.” Coming up from behind with fantastic speed, Captain America smacked Free Spirit across the face. As she was momentarily stunned, he pulled her back and against the car. To the man he said, “Sorry, sir, she’s gotten to be a pain since going off to college. I wouldn’t be breathing the same air as her, ‘cept our mom wants her at dad’s funeral. Here’s my ID.”
Steve Rogers held up his actual ID, which the man briefly glanced at but couldn’t do anything else with. “Fine, go on now. And keep that sister a’your’s in line!”
“You got it.” Dragging Cathy back into the car, Steve speed off. When the armed men were dots in the rear-view, he said to her, “That was a stupid thing to do.”
Cathy was still rubbing her face. “Dammit, that hurt! What, you’re suddenly fine with gunmen terrorizing innocent people?”
“A fight with that many guns and that many innocent people in cars would have been a bad idea. People would have been shot, we’d have been outed and those men would have been painted as victims. If anything, their organization would have gained sympathy and more members.”
“What organization?” asked Cathy. “Aside from some bumper stickers, they just looked like some local nuts.”
“One of them was wearing a hat, with a hand-stitched decal,” Steve said. “Let me tell you a little about the Watchdogs.”
# # # # #
Then sun was low on the horizon when they parked outside the house, though sunset was still some time off. Steve was first out of the car, and he asked Cathy, “Please get the beer.”
Cathy did as he asked, but made a face. “Ugh, this garbage is worse that I was served in college.”
She was closing her door when the house door slammed open. A man about her age burst out, pulling along a kid of eight of nine. Behind them were an older man and woman. Voices were raised, and the argument was heated. Free Spirit looked to Captain America, and he motioned for her to stay behind him as he stepped off the walkway.
After a couple minutes of yelling, the fight was dying down. The younger man let go of the kid - from what Cathy had gathered, his son - and stormed off. He didn’t spare a glance at the two guests as he walked by, making for a run-down truck.
Acting as though he didn’t just witness a domestic incident, Steve Rogers approached the old man. “Mike? Hi, I’m Steve, please to meet you.”
Mike accepted Steve’s hand and shook it warmly. “Steve, it’s great to put a face to the name. That old newsman Keen’s been talking you up for months. Come on in. This is my wife, Sybil.”
“How was your drive?” she asked.
“There was a weird roadblock some miles back,” Steve said.
Mike nodded. “Yeah, bunch of paranoid loons. Not sure how they’d find someone dangerous, if even what they’d do if they did. To be honest, we worried you’d be a bit late, just with how that’s slowing traffic.”
“We had hoped to drive around town,” Steve explained. To the kid he said, “Hello,” but the boy ran off without a word.
“That’s Chad, my nephew’s boy. Sorry you had to see that. Drew’s been hostile ever since he moved in, angry over losing his job. With all those wind mills, it was decided the power plant wasn’t necessary, and that was over a dozen jobs. He’d just gotten it too.”
“Drew worked so hard, learning all he could,” said Sybil. “Well, you don’t want to hear about our troubles. Come in, freshen yourselves up. Dinner’s about ready.”
“Actually, ma’am, I would like to hear about it.”
Cathy was introduced, and the beer was turned over with polite thanks. At dinner the conversation continued, and became a lively discussion. The boy, Chad, was quiet, and aside from being told several times to eat was largely ignored.
“It seemed to start as hunters spending more time hunting,” Mike said. “A lot more people had the time for it, after all. Quiet time, with little game caught. Even when something was bagged, the time after, at the bars, was complaining. Mainly about news outside the state, even outside the country, but they’d act like it was just over the hill. Soon men were carrying their guns everywhere.”
“Making themselves feel useful, I suppose,” Sybil chimed in.
“I noticed a man on the road had a symbol stitched on his hat,” Cathy said. “When did that start?”
“A few weeks ago. One of them picked it up from the library. That’s when it got bad, men talking about morality and purity.”
“There’s a big farm not far from here, uses migrants during the season.” Sybil shivered. “Decent people. I’ve made cakes for some. But these men are making a fuss, going on about jobs being taken, used some terrible words. I’ve never see any of them out in the field, working the land. When those folks come by this year, I’m worried what’ll happen.”
“Is it most of the town that feels this way?” Steve asked.
“Oh no,” Mike said. “Most are positive, waiting things out. It’s mainly a couple dozen men making the trouble. But as time goes on…yeah, I’m worried too. The area needs something to keep us positive.”
“There is that town meeting in a few days,” Sybil said.
“Oh, right,” Mike nodded. “Another energy company, wanting to check the ground for gas.”
Steve pursed his lips. “Roxxon, I’ve heard they got into fracking. You know there are risks involved, and Roxxon’s safety record isn’t exactly comforting.”
“It’ll all be discussed at the meeting, I suppose,” Mike said.
As Cathy was facing the window, she saw it first. In the fresh night, a light had appeared in the distance. “Fire!” she cried out.
That started a flurry of activity. Mike and Sybil knew which house it was, home to a couple they knew. They wanted to rush right over.
“I’ll go,” Steve insisted. “Mike, you should get to the fire house, let the know if they don’t already. Cathy, go with him. Sybil, you should stay here with Chad.”
“It’s Daddy,” Chad said. “He said they were gonna get it.”
# # # # #
Captain America grabbed his bag from the car before running across the fields. While running at a speed no normal man could maintain for long, he removed the bag’s contents. The costume and the shield, both of the colors red, white and blue. In smooth, graceful motions he removed the normal cloths and clad himself in the colors, all while keeping a grip on the shield. Somehow all the normal cloths, even the socks, made it into the bag, which he tossed beside a fence post even as he cleared the wire with a mighty leap.
The fire had grown in size and more than that, Captain America could smell the burning and hearing the sizzling. He could also hear the desperate cries of those in flight, and the truck engine of those in pursuit. In great leaps and bounds he crossed one field after another, and soon the involved parties were in sight.
The man was pale and bleeding, the woman dark and defiant. Facing them were more than a handful of men, each with a rifle raised and ready to-
“Fire!”
“No!” Still have a football field away, Captain America threw his mighty shield. Against the first rifle barrel it struck and kept going in it’s flight, knocking each askew and ruining the shot. Such was the momentum slowed that against the last rifle it bounced down, caught the top of a man’s boot and gained momentum on the backspin. It flew back into the air as Captain America leaped, and it found his hand moments before he found the Watchdogs.
With this free hand Captain America grabbed a rifle and wrenched it away from the man. Swinging it around the rifle butt caught another man on the arm and his rifle was dropped from numb fingers. Tossing the stick aside, Captain America brought a man to the ground with a kick and smashed his shield down against the barrel of his rifle. The open end went several inches into the ground, and with a twist of the shield the barrel snap.
“Stand down,” Captain America told the few remaining armed men. “This doesn’t have to go further!”
“Kill them!” said the man that had yelled “fire!” even as he fired his rifle point-blank at Captain America.
With impossible speed and well-honed skill, the shield went up and caught the shot. Against the vibranium alloy all impact was absorbed, and the projective fell harmlessly to the ground. Forward Captain America went, the shield still going up until it caught the man under the chin. He fell to the ground, harmed unconscious.
With similarly swift motions the other three men were disarmed. Behind him, one of those first disarmed drew a pistol and raised it. His target wasn’t Captain America, but the couple that had barely moved during the conflict.
But out of the corner of his eye Captain America had seen the murderous act. With a flick of his wrist the shield went flying. The gun was sent flying from a broken wrist, and the shield shifted course to the truck. It bounced, returning to Captain America’s arm as he leaped at the Watchdog. He slammed against the man’s head shield first, knocking off the helmet.
Captain America stood over the unconscious man, not surprised to see Mike’s brother Drew. But there was no time to reflect on the matter. After determining all the Watchdogs were beaten, Captain America turned his attention to the couple.
“Here, let me take a look at him.” Captain America took the woman’s burden that was her husband and made a quick examination. “This isn’t serious, as long as a doctor treats it soon. I’ll get him in the truck. Are you okay the drive.”
The woman nodded. Her initial steps toward the truck were unsteady, but she soon righted herself and got into the driver’s seat with no trouble. Captain America helped her husband into the passenger’s seat, fastened his seat belt and directed him to keep pressure on the wound.
“I’ll stay here until the authorities arrived,” Captain America told them. “Good luck.”
The truck drove off, and Captain America turned around in time to see the handgun raised.
“It’s getting late, Chad. You should be home.”
“S’not my home,” said the boy holding the gun aimed at his unconscious father’s head.
“You’re wrong about that,” said Captain America. “A safe place, with family that care about you, is a home. Just like that man is your father and, however misguided, he feels that his actions are in your best interests.”
Tears were coming down the boy’s face, but the gun didn’t move. Captain America took a step forward, his hand out.
“Anger causes people to do bad things, Chad. That’s why your father tried to hurt people tonight, it’s why you’re thinking of hurting him. This anger is the worst kind, borne of desperation and a loss of self, when people don’t really know what to do when something happens. We want to let that anger out, and find someone easy to blame. A simple but irrational target for simple but irrational acts.”
Chad nodded, still crying. “Have you ever been this angry.”
“When I was younger, it was an anger that lasted for years,” said Captain America. “I was angry with my father, my mother, a different thing almost every day. That was when I learned to draw, to show the world what I saw. Eventually I found…a lot of people thought it was something to fight against, but I found something to fight for. To fight for what had was being taken away in other countries, for what was being forgotten in our own nation. It’s something I continue to fight for.”
Captain America had continued forward, and his hand was now just below the gun, though not touching him.
“I’m fighting for you, Chad.”
The gun shook, then dropped into the waiting hand. The boy fell, sobbing, into the waiting arms.
# # # # #
The sun was beginning to rise and Cathy Webster hadn’t slept a wink. It had been a hectic night. She’d gone with the firemen as they’d battled the fire. Long after it’d been extinguished, Steve Rogers had joined them. Apparently Captain America had been in the area, saving lives and locking people in jail. If anybody had made the connection between the super-hero and newly arrived strangers from out of town, nobody said anything.
Cathy desperately wanted to close her eyes, but they were fixed on Steve. He was talking with Mike, just outside the man’s home. She hadn’t had a chance to talk with him, and wanted a few words. Then she would nap in the car while he drove.
“It’ll largely be up to them, but I understand Captain America suggested leniency,” Steve said. “Your brother and the others should get minimal time, provided they cooperate and serve their time well.”
“Thank heaven for small favors,” said Mike as he shook Steve’s hand. “And thank you, Steve, for getting the ball rolling. Work on the new house will start tomorrow, with plenty of hands willing to help. You sure you can’t stay a day or more?”
Steve shook his head. “No, we need to move on. But be sure to call those numbers I gave you. There’s a lot of state and local help to be accessed.”
After finishing the goodbye’s, Steve Rogers got into the running car. To Cathy he said, “It’s been a long night. I’m good for a few hours while you rest.”
“Under some circumstances I would enjoy hanging out with firemen,” said Cathy. “But not while you’re off fighting armed men by yourself. Were you trying to prove you could handle things without me?”
“Yes, it’s a relief to know I’ve still got it,” Steve laughed.
Next Issue: It’s a race against time when an old enemy rears his ugly head!
In the dead of night they were visible in shadow, set against the blaze they ran from. Across the field they fled, these two who had struggled to build a life. An engine roared, and the pursuers appeared from the other side of the ruined life.
A shot rang out, and one fell to the ground with a cry. The other knelt over him, relieved to see the hip wound was only a graze. But he couldn’t run, and couldn’t be carried, and so they were caught.
The run-down truck halted a short distance away, and a half-dozen men disembarked. They all wore body armor, their features hidden behind helmets. The only identifying feature was on each chest plate, and insignia resembling a dog’s head. As one, the men drew up into formation, their rifles raised.
“Damn you all to hell.” She rose to her feet, her husband of three years leaning against her. Illuminated by the headlights they could be clearly seen, a clash against the black and white views of their attackers. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?”
“Watchdogs,” their leader, known as Watchdog-1, shouted out. “Open fire!”
# # # # #
“These stops are really getting on my nerves,” Cathy Webster said. She was leaning against the parked car, looking at her phone. “According to this, we should have made it by now.”
Steve Rogers was running toward her, finishing his third lap. “And each time you’ve defeated the purpose by standing around. Come on, Cathy. We can talk and run at the same time.”
Rolling her eyes, the woman also known as Free Spirit tucked away her phone and easily fell into place alongside Captain America. “This five-minutes-for-each-hour rule is ridiculous. Let alone your insistence we stop for each meal when the point of drive-thru is we don’t have to. Lunch took longer than it should have, with you chatting with everybody.”
“Those were volunteer firemen, and it was a chicken barbecue benefit,” Captain America said. “For one so intent on not wasting time, this is a conversation we could have had in the car, hours ago, when you weren’t staring at your phone. People talk all the time about time being saved, but what is actually done with that extra time? At least when children ask if they’re there yet, it’s because they want to be out of the car running around.”
Near where they were running, Free Spirit saw a large, shuttered building. “What is this, an old industrial park?”
Half-a-step behind her, Captain America nodded. “When the company moved on, this community lost hundreds of jobs. It’s the beginning of an old pattern, and I thought we could see about halting it at the start.”
“Stopping people getting their unemployment checks?” Free Spirit snorted. “Whatever you might see happen in other impoverished areas, it won’t happen in America. Our government pays a lot to keep it peaceful.”
“All the handouts won’t salve a man’s pride,” Captain America said. “People feel worthless and angry and eager to blame other for their lot in life. Usually the easy targets; people just a little worse off. I just want to get a sense of things around here.”
“And if you’re right, then what?” The car was back in sight, and Free Spirit ran towards it. “This doesn’t sound like a problem you can just throw a shield at. Or worse, throw them in jail where they lose all hope and just give in to the anger completely.”
Reaching the car, Free Spirit stopped. She expected Captain America to be next to her, or just behind her. But she turned to find him a dozen yards away. He stopped on the other side of the car, a grin on his face.
“Maybe I can help someone run toward a solution, instead of away from a problem.” He opened the door. “Break’s over, you can get back to your phone.”
But after several minutes on the road, Cathy still hadn’t looked at her phone. She was looking at Steve, wondering. Finally, she said it. “Okay, let’s not pretend that didn’t just happen. I out ran you.”
Steve sighed. “Cathy, I’m not super-human. You, Jack, Jessica, Sam and…and Jack, you all are, but I’m peak human. I recently met a young man who’s my equal thanks to diet and exercise. Well, and probably an application of eugenics. The point is, I may be more capable than most people, but it is achievable by most people. And being surprised that you’re capable of more, you do yourself a disservice.”
Up the road was a line of cars. Armed men were on the road, checking with drivers. It looked to be a standard police check, except none of those men wore uniforms. Cathy quickly checked her phone.
“There doesn’t appear to be any local emergency that would require armed volunteers.”
“Not unless you count that raid by federal authorities on a clinic,” Captain America said. “I know Excalibur was shutting down a resource for super-criminals, but the clinic’s lawyers used the news to spin a very different tale. These people could be reacting to perceived government overreach or a dozen other things. Just stay calm and we should make it past okay.”
But when they neared the end of the line and an armed man asked for their ID, Free Spirit responded with, “Where’s your badge?” She burst out of the car and got into the man’s face. “What gives you the right to disrupt traffic? To ask me for papers?”
Instinctively, the man raised his rifle sideways between himself and Free Spirit. A few of the other armed men also raised their guns. They were beginning to feel threatened by this woman that appeared to be 90 pounds, soaking wet.
“Shut up, you.” Coming up from behind with fantastic speed, Captain America smacked Free Spirit across the face. As she was momentarily stunned, he pulled her back and against the car. To the man he said, “Sorry, sir, she’s gotten to be a pain since going off to college. I wouldn’t be breathing the same air as her, ‘cept our mom wants her at dad’s funeral. Here’s my ID.”
Steve Rogers held up his actual ID, which the man briefly glanced at but couldn’t do anything else with. “Fine, go on now. And keep that sister a’your’s in line!”
“You got it.” Dragging Cathy back into the car, Steve speed off. When the armed men were dots in the rear-view, he said to her, “That was a stupid thing to do.”
Cathy was still rubbing her face. “Dammit, that hurt! What, you’re suddenly fine with gunmen terrorizing innocent people?”
“A fight with that many guns and that many innocent people in cars would have been a bad idea. People would have been shot, we’d have been outed and those men would have been painted as victims. If anything, their organization would have gained sympathy and more members.”
“What organization?” asked Cathy. “Aside from some bumper stickers, they just looked like some local nuts.”
“One of them was wearing a hat, with a hand-stitched decal,” Steve said. “Let me tell you a little about the Watchdogs.”
# # # # #
Then sun was low on the horizon when they parked outside the house, though sunset was still some time off. Steve was first out of the car, and he asked Cathy, “Please get the beer.”
Cathy did as he asked, but made a face. “Ugh, this garbage is worse that I was served in college.”
She was closing her door when the house door slammed open. A man about her age burst out, pulling along a kid of eight of nine. Behind them were an older man and woman. Voices were raised, and the argument was heated. Free Spirit looked to Captain America, and he motioned for her to stay behind him as he stepped off the walkway.
After a couple minutes of yelling, the fight was dying down. The younger man let go of the kid - from what Cathy had gathered, his son - and stormed off. He didn’t spare a glance at the two guests as he walked by, making for a run-down truck.
Acting as though he didn’t just witness a domestic incident, Steve Rogers approached the old man. “Mike? Hi, I’m Steve, please to meet you.”
Mike accepted Steve’s hand and shook it warmly. “Steve, it’s great to put a face to the name. That old newsman Keen’s been talking you up for months. Come on in. This is my wife, Sybil.”
“How was your drive?” she asked.
“There was a weird roadblock some miles back,” Steve said.
Mike nodded. “Yeah, bunch of paranoid loons. Not sure how they’d find someone dangerous, if even what they’d do if they did. To be honest, we worried you’d be a bit late, just with how that’s slowing traffic.”
“We had hoped to drive around town,” Steve explained. To the kid he said, “Hello,” but the boy ran off without a word.
“That’s Chad, my nephew’s boy. Sorry you had to see that. Drew’s been hostile ever since he moved in, angry over losing his job. With all those wind mills, it was decided the power plant wasn’t necessary, and that was over a dozen jobs. He’d just gotten it too.”
“Drew worked so hard, learning all he could,” said Sybil. “Well, you don’t want to hear about our troubles. Come in, freshen yourselves up. Dinner’s about ready.”
“Actually, ma’am, I would like to hear about it.”
Cathy was introduced, and the beer was turned over with polite thanks. At dinner the conversation continued, and became a lively discussion. The boy, Chad, was quiet, and aside from being told several times to eat was largely ignored.
“It seemed to start as hunters spending more time hunting,” Mike said. “A lot more people had the time for it, after all. Quiet time, with little game caught. Even when something was bagged, the time after, at the bars, was complaining. Mainly about news outside the state, even outside the country, but they’d act like it was just over the hill. Soon men were carrying their guns everywhere.”
“Making themselves feel useful, I suppose,” Sybil chimed in.
“I noticed a man on the road had a symbol stitched on his hat,” Cathy said. “When did that start?”
“A few weeks ago. One of them picked it up from the library. That’s when it got bad, men talking about morality and purity.”
“There’s a big farm not far from here, uses migrants during the season.” Sybil shivered. “Decent people. I’ve made cakes for some. But these men are making a fuss, going on about jobs being taken, used some terrible words. I’ve never see any of them out in the field, working the land. When those folks come by this year, I’m worried what’ll happen.”
“Is it most of the town that feels this way?” Steve asked.
“Oh no,” Mike said. “Most are positive, waiting things out. It’s mainly a couple dozen men making the trouble. But as time goes on…yeah, I’m worried too. The area needs something to keep us positive.”
“There is that town meeting in a few days,” Sybil said.
“Oh, right,” Mike nodded. “Another energy company, wanting to check the ground for gas.”
Steve pursed his lips. “Roxxon, I’ve heard they got into fracking. You know there are risks involved, and Roxxon’s safety record isn’t exactly comforting.”
“It’ll all be discussed at the meeting, I suppose,” Mike said.
As Cathy was facing the window, she saw it first. In the fresh night, a light had appeared in the distance. “Fire!” she cried out.
That started a flurry of activity. Mike and Sybil knew which house it was, home to a couple they knew. They wanted to rush right over.
“I’ll go,” Steve insisted. “Mike, you should get to the fire house, let the know if they don’t already. Cathy, go with him. Sybil, you should stay here with Chad.”
“It’s Daddy,” Chad said. “He said they were gonna get it.”
# # # # #
Captain America grabbed his bag from the car before running across the fields. While running at a speed no normal man could maintain for long, he removed the bag’s contents. The costume and the shield, both of the colors red, white and blue. In smooth, graceful motions he removed the normal cloths and clad himself in the colors, all while keeping a grip on the shield. Somehow all the normal cloths, even the socks, made it into the bag, which he tossed beside a fence post even as he cleared the wire with a mighty leap.
The fire had grown in size and more than that, Captain America could smell the burning and hearing the sizzling. He could also hear the desperate cries of those in flight, and the truck engine of those in pursuit. In great leaps and bounds he crossed one field after another, and soon the involved parties were in sight.
The man was pale and bleeding, the woman dark and defiant. Facing them were more than a handful of men, each with a rifle raised and ready to-
“Fire!”
“No!” Still have a football field away, Captain America threw his mighty shield. Against the first rifle barrel it struck and kept going in it’s flight, knocking each askew and ruining the shot. Such was the momentum slowed that against the last rifle it bounced down, caught the top of a man’s boot and gained momentum on the backspin. It flew back into the air as Captain America leaped, and it found his hand moments before he found the Watchdogs.
With this free hand Captain America grabbed a rifle and wrenched it away from the man. Swinging it around the rifle butt caught another man on the arm and his rifle was dropped from numb fingers. Tossing the stick aside, Captain America brought a man to the ground with a kick and smashed his shield down against the barrel of his rifle. The open end went several inches into the ground, and with a twist of the shield the barrel snap.
“Stand down,” Captain America told the few remaining armed men. “This doesn’t have to go further!”
“Kill them!” said the man that had yelled “fire!” even as he fired his rifle point-blank at Captain America.
With impossible speed and well-honed skill, the shield went up and caught the shot. Against the vibranium alloy all impact was absorbed, and the projective fell harmlessly to the ground. Forward Captain America went, the shield still going up until it caught the man under the chin. He fell to the ground, harmed unconscious.
With similarly swift motions the other three men were disarmed. Behind him, one of those first disarmed drew a pistol and raised it. His target wasn’t Captain America, but the couple that had barely moved during the conflict.
But out of the corner of his eye Captain America had seen the murderous act. With a flick of his wrist the shield went flying. The gun was sent flying from a broken wrist, and the shield shifted course to the truck. It bounced, returning to Captain America’s arm as he leaped at the Watchdog. He slammed against the man’s head shield first, knocking off the helmet.
Captain America stood over the unconscious man, not surprised to see Mike’s brother Drew. But there was no time to reflect on the matter. After determining all the Watchdogs were beaten, Captain America turned his attention to the couple.
“Here, let me take a look at him.” Captain America took the woman’s burden that was her husband and made a quick examination. “This isn’t serious, as long as a doctor treats it soon. I’ll get him in the truck. Are you okay the drive.”
The woman nodded. Her initial steps toward the truck were unsteady, but she soon righted herself and got into the driver’s seat with no trouble. Captain America helped her husband into the passenger’s seat, fastened his seat belt and directed him to keep pressure on the wound.
“I’ll stay here until the authorities arrived,” Captain America told them. “Good luck.”
The truck drove off, and Captain America turned around in time to see the handgun raised.
“It’s getting late, Chad. You should be home.”
“S’not my home,” said the boy holding the gun aimed at his unconscious father’s head.
“You’re wrong about that,” said Captain America. “A safe place, with family that care about you, is a home. Just like that man is your father and, however misguided, he feels that his actions are in your best interests.”
Tears were coming down the boy’s face, but the gun didn’t move. Captain America took a step forward, his hand out.
“Anger causes people to do bad things, Chad. That’s why your father tried to hurt people tonight, it’s why you’re thinking of hurting him. This anger is the worst kind, borne of desperation and a loss of self, when people don’t really know what to do when something happens. We want to let that anger out, and find someone easy to blame. A simple but irrational target for simple but irrational acts.”
Chad nodded, still crying. “Have you ever been this angry.”
“When I was younger, it was an anger that lasted for years,” said Captain America. “I was angry with my father, my mother, a different thing almost every day. That was when I learned to draw, to show the world what I saw. Eventually I found…a lot of people thought it was something to fight against, but I found something to fight for. To fight for what had was being taken away in other countries, for what was being forgotten in our own nation. It’s something I continue to fight for.”
Captain America had continued forward, and his hand was now just below the gun, though not touching him.
“I’m fighting for you, Chad.”
The gun shook, then dropped into the waiting hand. The boy fell, sobbing, into the waiting arms.
# # # # #
The sun was beginning to rise and Cathy Webster hadn’t slept a wink. It had been a hectic night. She’d gone with the firemen as they’d battled the fire. Long after it’d been extinguished, Steve Rogers had joined them. Apparently Captain America had been in the area, saving lives and locking people in jail. If anybody had made the connection between the super-hero and newly arrived strangers from out of town, nobody said anything.
Cathy desperately wanted to close her eyes, but they were fixed on Steve. He was talking with Mike, just outside the man’s home. She hadn’t had a chance to talk with him, and wanted a few words. Then she would nap in the car while he drove.
“It’ll largely be up to them, but I understand Captain America suggested leniency,” Steve said. “Your brother and the others should get minimal time, provided they cooperate and serve their time well.”
“Thank heaven for small favors,” said Mike as he shook Steve’s hand. “And thank you, Steve, for getting the ball rolling. Work on the new house will start tomorrow, with plenty of hands willing to help. You sure you can’t stay a day or more?”
Steve shook his head. “No, we need to move on. But be sure to call those numbers I gave you. There’s a lot of state and local help to be accessed.”
After finishing the goodbye’s, Steve Rogers got into the running car. To Cathy he said, “It’s been a long night. I’m good for a few hours while you rest.”
“Under some circumstances I would enjoy hanging out with firemen,” said Cathy. “But not while you’re off fighting armed men by yourself. Were you trying to prove you could handle things without me?”
“Yes, it’s a relief to know I’ve still got it,” Steve laughed.
Next Issue: It’s a race against time when an old enemy rears his ugly head!