Just Cause Universe 3: Day of the Destroyer

Day of the Destroyer

A
Just Cause Universe
novel

by Ian Thomas Healy

Copyright 2013 Ian Thomas Healy

Local Hero Press Edition

Local Hero Press Edition – License Notes

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and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover design by Jeff Hebert

The
Just Cause Universe
Novels

Just Cause – Revised & Expanded Edition

The Archmage

Day of the Destroyer

Deep Six (Fall 2013)

Other Novels

Blood on the Ice

Hope and Undead Elvis

Pariah's Moon

Rooftops

Starf*cker

The Milkman: SuperSekrit Extra Cheesy Edition

Troubleshooters: The Longest Joke Ever told

Collections

Tales of the Weird Wild West, Vol. 1

The Bulletproof Badge

Short Stories

Just Cause Universe series

Graceful Blur

The Scent of Rose Petals

The Steel Soldier's Gambit

Just Cause 2012 Holiday Bundle Pack

Weird Wild West series

The Mighty Peculiar Incident at Muddy Creek

Posse

Professional MotorCombat series

Last Year's Hero

Rookie Sensation

Harry Blaine series

Bulletproof

Young Guns

Tuesday Night at Powerman's

Standalone titles

In His Majesty's Postal Service

Bread and Circuses

Footprints in the Butter

Upon A Midnight Clear

Dental Plan

1001001

Nonfiction

Action! Writing Better Action Using Cinematic Techniques

All titles and more available wherever books and ebooks are sold.

Introduction: Making it Real

When I was growing up, Spider-Man was my favorite hero. It wasn’t just because I’d seen him from my early days watching
The Electric Company
(ah, Spidey, how I remember you and your dialog balloons). And it wasn’t because of his awesome 1970s animated series (“…does whatever a spider can…”). It was because to me, Spider-Man was real.

Oh, I knew he was a fictional character. But he didn’t come across as
just
a hero; there was always more to him than that. He had girl troubles (whether they were Gwen or M.J.). He had to deal with bullies, both at school (hey there, Flash) and, when he was older, at work (J.J.J., you sly dog). He had to have a day job, not as a cover for his secret identity but to pay the rent. There were times when he’d have doughnuts for dinner. And he experienced grief, whether it was the death of his beloved uncle, or of the girl he loved, or of a colleague: When Mar-Vell was dying of cancer in
The Death of Captain Marvel
, Spider-Man was overwhelmed and said that superheroes are supposed to go in battle, while taking down a villain or saving the world; they aren’t supposed to die from cancer.

He was real.

That’s what makes the most interesting—and the best—superheroes and supervillains: they have to be real. We have to be able to relate to them, not just understand them but sympathize with them. Under their masks, they should be people, just people—people we want to know better. Yes, these people have fantastic powers and use them to save (or possibly attempt to take over) the world. But despite the costumes, they’re just like you and me. They have dreams. And they have pain. That pain can take many shapes. It can be as subtle as temptation, or as blatant as a punishment. It can be the sting of unrequited love. It can be the horror of abuse. All of these things turn characters from two-dimensional notions of good and evil and transform them into characters with depth.

And that’s what the heroes of Just Cause—and the villains they fight—bring to the table: depth. It’s their human flaws that make them real, and make them so much more than their parahuman powers—which, admittedly, are very cool. It’s what makes us want not just to be them but to hang out with them (whether or not it’s a Wednesday night). It’s what makes us root for them during the fight scenes, or when they’re trapped in a burning building. And it’s what makes us care about the bad guys too.

Because let’s face it: it’s not as simple as good versus evil. The best stories never are.

—Jackie Kessler, co-author of
Black And White

January, 2013

• Title Page
  
• Chapter One
  
• Chapter Two
  
• Chapter Three
  
• Chapter Four
  
• Chapter Five
  
• Chapter Six
  
• Chapter Seven
  
• Chapter Eight
  
• Chapter Nine
  
• Chapter Ten
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
• About the Author
  

Chapter One

July 13, 1977, 9:00 AM

Faith smiled as she awoke, despite the jangling alarm clock on her bedside table. She had been dreaming of Rick, his soft fur caressing her skin, a rumbling purr emanating from his thick chest. The clock drove away the last remnants of golden mane and liquid amber eyes from her mind, leaving only warm fuzzy feelings lingering inside her as she opened her eyes. The lion-faced superhero had starred in many of her dreams of late, and more often than not, she found herself watching him when they were together in headquarters, careful never to let anyone notice her attentiveness. Especially not Bobby.

Bobby rolled over and mumbled something in his sleep before his snores filled the air once again. She watched the rise and fall of his chest beside her, smooth and hairless, unlike the wild-maned torso of her crush.

Faith loved her husband, but he was so… tame.

She and Bobby had been together since ’69, and the last exciting thing he’d done was to steal his father’s car so they could go to Woodstock together. Since then, he’d been a comfortable but mundane husband. Even his parahuman ability of enhanced hearing could never be considered the least bit flamboyant. They’d been married since ’72 and he was the only man she’d ever slept with. It made her feel both old-fashioned and at times, disappointed. At twenty-three, she wasn’t the oldest member of the Just Cause superhero team, but she’d been with them since she was sixteen—much longer than anyone else—and some days she felt like the only adult surrounded by petulant teens.

She didn’t want to stay in bed any longer. Superheroes didn’t punch a time clock, but it bothered her to lounge around instead of being responsible. The least she could do would be to honor the heroic tradition set by her parents, the founders of Just Cause, and drag her sorry self into headquarters, at least to give the illusion that she was doing something to better the city and state of New York.

The morning had already grown hot. New Yorkers could expect more triple-degree temperatures with no relief in sight, the radio announcer warned. Bobby had been talking about installing central air conditioning in their brownstone, but until that actually came about, they slept in the miserable heat and humidity, windows open and fans fighting a losing battle against the merciless daytime sun and stagnant nighttime air.

Faith took a fast shower, not bothering to wait for warm water. She soaped away the night sweat and the smell of Bobby on her skin. The metaphor wasn’t lost on her, as she remembered snippets of her dream, the feel of Rick’s claws gently pricking against her skin. She shivered, and not from the cool spray.

Wrapped in one towel and another around her blonde hair, cut in the feathered style Farrah Fawcett had made famous, she headed for the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee. Halfway down the short hall, she stopped to gaze upon the photo montage of her fellow heroes and friends. Her eyes lingered longest on the picture of Rick, dressed as Lionheart, mugging for the camera next to a real lion that day the team had gone to the circus. In comparison to the great cat, he looked much more human than feral, but the similarities were unmistakable. If King Richard from Disney’s furry-animal version of
Robin Hood
had been real, he’d have been the spitting image of Rick Lyons.
Faith reached up to touch the picture.

Bobby stirred in the bedroom and Faith drew her hand back in a guilty blur as if the picture had scalded her.

She retreated into the kitchen. Although she had little skill in the art of cooking, she did lay in a supply of expensive African coffee. Bobby drank the stuff like it was water.

Rick had likewise acquired a taste for it after Faith brought him some to try one day. Ever since then, she made a point to bring him fresh coffee when she could.

While the coffee percolated, Faith returned to the bedroom to dress. She kept three complete costumes in rotation, so while one was at the Chinese laundry up the street, she still had a spare in case the one she wore got torn or dirty enough to necessitate a change. She pulled on the cropped crimson t-shirt with the yellow horse-head logo emblazoned across the front. Her mother had worn the same logo as Colt, one of the founders of Just Cause. Faith’s own take was far more revealing than her mother Judy had ever dared to be in the Forties and Fifties. Where her mother’s outfit had been demure and conservatively cut, Faith as Pony Girl was a symbol for the sexy, liberated women of modern times. Her low-cut red stretch-denim jeans with the yellow piping showed off her legs all the way down, as her mother liked to say.

She debated whether or not it was too hot to leave her lightweight fringed leather jacket behind, but common sense won out. It wasn’t so much for protection from criminals, because there weren’t any who would dare take on a parahuman anymore. One slip-up at super-speed and she’d give herself a nasty case of road rash without the jacket to protect her. She pulled on her soft leather boots with the heavy steel-belted dual-ply radial soles. They were weighty, but her legs were fast and strong enough that it didn’t matter.