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Rampage

  Quintin Fortune

  Copyright 2014 Quintin Fortune

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  Late nights in New Tao always mean one of two things: Someone's trying to cast an unnatural spell, or someone's trying to steal something. The shrill alarm coming from the Second Sol Bank in the East End meant that someone had succeeded in the latter.

  A mountain of a man stepped out from the wrecked front doors of the bank, a giant sack strapped to his back. He was dressed like a football player, with football inspired armor made of black metal. He looked around for a moment as he heard the sound of police sirens. A police car swerved around and sat between him and any avenue of escape. The officers jumped out of the patrol car and placed their hand on their guns.

  "Put the bag down and your hands in the air," one of the officers commanded.

  Underneath his helmet, the man gave a snide smile. "You want to stop me," he taunted. "Then come try it." He took a step forward, his foot slamming into the street. A few cracks crawled out from the spot.

  "Stay where you are and put your hands where we can see them," the officer repeated.

  The man slid his other foot behind him, taking a stance that one would take if they were about to charge at something.

  "I don't think he's going to listen," the other officer said, starting to draw his gun. "We might not have a choice in this matter."

  The first officer sighed and pulled out his gun as well. "This is your last warning. Put the sack down and your hands up."

  "Nothing can stop a Rampage," he growled. He let out an unholy bellow as he started to charge at the police. They opened fire, but the bullets just bounced off his armor like rubber bands. He smashed through the police car as the first officer barely jumped out of the way. Rampage continued on his path, smashing into the building on the opposite side of the street. The officers looked on in astonishment as he ran through the building like it was paper.

  The Heroes sat in Jill's living room, trying to sort through the information. Deadguy and Valkadaidan were reading through every newspaper, magazine, and tabloid that New Tao had to offer. Jill was checking several news feeds on her smart tablet. "Says here he calls himself 'Rampage'," Jill commented.

  "Can we get away with that name," Deadguy asked, flipping through one of the papers.

  "What," she asked, annoyed.

  "What," he asked back.

  She just shook her head. "Anyway, he dresses up like a football player and can smash through any and all forms of defense."

  "Then we'll get a team of attorneys," DG remarked, throwing the paper aside. "Let's see him get through a defense like that."

  "How many attorneys can you think of that will take on an indestructible football player," Valk asked.

  "I can think of three," he answered. "Due to legal reasons, I can't name them, but I can think of three."

  "Which means that also due to those legal reasons, we can't get them," Jill replied. "Which means we need another plan."

  "There has to be a pattern," Valk suggested., thumbing through one of the tabloids. "Universal One, Vantage at Terrance, and now Second Sol. What's the connection?"

  "They all have a lot of money and very crappy security systems," Deadguy replied.

  "Valkadaidan might have a point," Jill said. "If we can determine a pattern, maybe we can figure out where he's going to strike next and take him out."

  "How, exactly," Our Hero questioned. "Didn't they just say he was indestructible? That's kinda translates into 'a little hard to stop'."

  "Yeah, and you can't die," Valk said.

  Deadguy slowly turned to look at him. "Oh hell no," he exclaimed. "I am not getting hit by that guy. You've seen what he's done to everything that got in his way."

  "That's not important right now," Jill said, looking at her watch. "We need to get to the bank."

  Rampage barely fit into the small hospital chair. His football armor took forever to take off, so most of the time he didn't bother to remove it when his brother called for him. He hid the armor under a bulky, rumpled brown trench coat and stored the helmet in a backpack.

  In the darkened hospital room, a frail bald man dotted over a figure in the bed. Various monitors and machines were hooked up to whomever was lying there. "Mother's happy you're here, Marshal," the bald man said. That made Rampage smile a bit.

  "How's mom doing, Ethan," he asked, rubbing his buzzed head.

  "She's doing much better," he answered, not taking his eyes off of their mother. "I think she actually responded to my voice this morning." He finally turned to his brother. "I have planned out your next target." He walked over to a small table and grabbed a folded piece of paper. "Follow this to the letter."

  Marshal slowly stood and took the paper from his brother."How much longer do I have to do this," he asked. He was tired. Frustrated.

  "Not much longer, my dear brother," Ethan answered. "Just a few more high valued targets and we'll have enough money for Mother's treatment." The frail man gripped the broad shoulder of his younger brother. "I know it may not seem like it, but what we're doing is right."

  Marshal thought this over. "You're right," he said finally, grabbing his backpack. "You're always right."