The Red Notebook 3

The Red Notebook 3

This was from a Utter! workshop with Richard Tyrone Jones where the brief was to write about disabled superheros.

Captain De Vere surveyed the city from the rooftop wheezing as he took it in all awful concrete beauty of the megalopolis. He had resigned himself to the fact that it would be a quite night when his pager vibrated. A robbery in progress. Smiling he leapt off the building, these brief moments of almost flight made his mutation worth it. Any “normal” person diving off a mile high building  without a parachute would end up smeared on the pavement.  De Vere smashed into the asphalt hard, it hurt, but the pain was worth it. As he tried to get up he hacked up some phlegm. He moved the slimy mucus around in his mouth before he spat it out.

He had to be quick. He quicker he moved, the quicker he would trip and fall.  Falling at maximum speed would get him towards the crime scene.

People in the city used to stare but they had long grown used to the sight of the Captain. The crowded streets  politely ignored the Captain as he made his way.

He arrived at the scene of the robbery. The rush to get there had exhausted him. He resisted the urge to clear his lungs. Criminals had to be stopped.

He rarely captured criminals because he was weak and easily tired. But he was nigh on invisible  and even if he only slowed them down a little till his fellow police officers arrived it was worth it.

The robbers burst out from the buildings carrying out small boxes. The Captain ordered them to stop in the name justice! They kept moving and Captain Diving dived towards them with his mightiest leap and knocked one of the robbers to the floor. They grappled, the criminal started pounding away at the Captain with fists and elbows. They had no effect on the Captain. The other criminals stopped and dropped their boxes. They screamed something and pulled out guns and blasted away.

“Holy fuckin’ Nora”  yelped the Captain as the robber on top of him went limp. Dead limp. Guns were serious, time to break out the Jackie Chan prat falls. Captain hacked up more phlegm, he kipped up to his feet and spat the mucus in their faces of the gun wielding villains who were still firing away.

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