Dane Curse

DANE CURSE

A BLACK CAPE CASE FILE

By: Matt Abraham

Copyright © 2015 by M.A.Schnetter
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2015

Cover art by Daniel Strange 
www.thinkstrange.co.uk

Acknowledgments

I would like to offer a sincere and humble thanks to the following people who helped make this book a reality:

My beautiful wife Jenny for her support.

My mother Charen for introducing me to the power of words.

Alice, Magali, and the entire Singapore Writers’ Group for their guidance and encouragement.

And a very special thanks to Sarah Carlson who put far more effort into this novel than any unpaid editor should, which is why she is to be made an Honorary Citizen of Gold Coast City, entitled to all the rights and benefits this title grants. Which right now isn’t much.

But give it time.

Chapter 1

Nobody sheds a tear when a black cape catches one in the back. In fact, discovering there's one less villain in the world is how the citizens of Gold Coast City prefer to start their morning. It doesn’t matter if the body’s found floating in Bittenbach Bay or dumped down Grime Alley, they’ll eat those details up like butter and toast, then head out to face the day like they put some comfort, instead of cream, in their coffee.

It’s not so rosy for the black cape though. Guy or gal, they’re quick shuffled through an autopsy, and if the body isn’t claimed, as almost none are, it’s up to Ayers Hill with no one there to see them off save the man who dug their hole. I was headed for that fate myself, back when I ran with bad men and threw Buicks at heroes. I didn’t carry business cards, but if I had they’d have read: Dane Curse-Super Powered Villain-Dark Deeds Done Daily. But that’s not me, not anymore, and not for a long time now. I wised up and took the cape off my back, and the bull’s eye off my chest, and while I’m not proud of my old life I’m not ashamed of it either. It gave me one hell of a skill set, and a unique point of view.

See, behind their masks and hoods and threatening names, behind the powers and pulse cannons, black capes are people like everyone else. And like everyone else they have children and spouses and parents and friends who love them a whole lot, and miss them just as much when they meet the big goodbye. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not the best people in the world, but that doesn’t mean each one deserves the death penalty. And for those that get it, well, not every one of them dies clean.

But when that fate befalls regular people there’s the system to turn to. With just a phone call the police leap into action practically falling over themselves trying to catch the killer. But for those other people, the ones unlucky enough to love a black cape, when they lose that someone special there’s no one to get to the bottom of the who-did-what-happened. When they need a hand there’s no one to help.

So if you lose a black cape, and can’t go to the cops, then you come to me because that’s what I do. I’ve been in the game for years, I know all the curves and all the angles, and if it gets rough then so be it… I got plenty strength, I’m double tough, and I never quit. And if need be I’ll pull my artillery to get you some answers, because I don’t care about the mistakes you’ve made or how you chose to live your life, sometimes even the unjust deserve a little justice.

At least that’s how it was before the call.

It caught me in bed around four in the morning.

“Dane Curse?”

“It depends who’s asking,” I said, trying to sound sharp.

“No one specific. I represent the Sindicate.”

“The Sindicate?” I sat up and turned on my lamp. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No joke Mr. Curse, I’m calling to offer you a job.”

“No thanks slick, I’m not in the club. Why not use your own boys, and keep me out of it like always?”

“Because this is a special case Mr. Curse, and we require special help. You’ve been asked for by name.”

“So?” I said. “Who did the asking?”

“You know I can’t tell you that over the phone.”

“Really? Well let me-”

“But, what I can tell you is that if I used this name, you wouldn’t put up a fight. You’d just go. No matter where I pointed, you’d just go. It’s that kind of a name. So pretend like I used it, and ask for the address.”

Not many people fit that description. Actually there was only one, and he was the apex predator who ran every dark deed in Gold Coast City, the head of the Sindicate himself; Lynchpin.

He’s not a man you turn down.

“Okay then,” I said, “what’s the address?”

“You got a pen?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

“No,” the voice said, “you don’t.”

He must have been a cognitive. Some can read your thoughts even over the phone. “Ok,” I said, grabbing one. “I do now.”

“Good. Fourth and Bismuth.”

“I needed a pen for that? Wait, Fourth and Bismuth, really?”

“You heard me. And Mr. Curse…”

“Yeah?” I tossed the pen back on the nightstand.

“Step lively.”

I hung the phone up hard. The Sindicate, God damn black cape mafia. I’ve avoided them for years, and thus far they’ve returned the favor, so what did they want with me now? There was only one way to find out. I tossed the covers aside, got up, and slipped on a white shirt along with one of my gray suits. Each one’s been cut special to conceal a pair of shoulder holsters and the cannons they held, and once that artillery was firmly in place I threw on a black overcoat and hat, then hoofed it outside, pausing on my stoop to take in a sweet and salty lungful of the cool, night air.

The garage that housed my car was twelve blocks away, and for the first half of the walk there I was making swift time, but that came to a stop courtesy of a river of tourists in my path. They won’t see the Outskirts, or even heard of Tunnel Town, but every person who visits our city will move heaven and earth for a glimpse of Culver and 188
th
, better known as Four Corners. It’s where derring-do was born, and the only place in the world that never stops shining, even in the small hours.

I slid behind the nearest group and together we moved like a logjam to the end of the block where a red light barred our path. I settled in. We’d be here for a tick. The city kept the traffic slow so our guests could take their time to enjoy whichever white cape was performing there. Tonight it was the big bearded strongman himself, Al Mighty, doing his normal trick of single handedly hoisting a ten-ton platform above his head while families posed for pictures on top of it.

I pulled my hat down low. It had been over a decade since Al and I had last thrown hands, and while my caveman face can blend right in, some heroes have long memories. The effort was wasted, though. Al was far too busy mugging for the cameras to notice me.

After a handful of folks took their turn saying cheese the light finally turned green, and I crossed the street with a thousand other people, but we weren’t halfway there when everyone stopped, pointed up, and let out a cheer. I didn’t even slow down. The blue flame trail, and the fact that the dames were the loudest, told me everything I needed to know. Pixius, voted World’s Sexiest Hero for three years running, was blazing overhead. I wonder if the ladies would yell so loud if they knew he was gayer than a Fire Island Pridefest? I don’t see why not, that cape’s so handsome he has arches who avoid hitting his face.

While Pixius usually flies solo tonight he was flanked by two members of the Special Powers Extraction Commission. They’re regular non-powered lawmen who sport head-to-toe silver armor with fight and flight capability, a necessity in the field of policing super crime. On any other night I’d have dwelled on why that was, but I had someplace to be, so I ducked down an alley, and put the neon, noise, and crowds behind me.

#

When I got to Roy’s garage I gave my car, Jane, a quick once over. Her default setting was an old Jalopy, matte black, but with one flip of a switch she would change her color, shape, and tags to look like any other vehicle on the road. Her electronics system has autopilot navigation, and a comms unit capable of decryption, there’s a cannon between a pair of jump jets hidden in her trunk, and all of it’s wrapped in bulletproof armor. She’s one of the only two women who have never let me down and tonight was no different. We got to Fourth and Bismuth in ten minutes flat.

I parked on the corner, got out, and looked around. Aside from a pair standing guard there wasn’t a soul for five city blocks. This isn’t a nice part of town on the best of nights, but it’s never this dead, and when I got close to the boys I saw why. The guy on the left, the bald one with the scar across his forehead, was a repeller. That meant he could control people’s emotions, a skill he used to push them away from sensitive areas. I didn’t recognize the one on the right, but he had strawberry blond curls, a baby face, and the look that says he thinks life’s an adventure. Time, or the city, would take all three.

“Hey Temper,” I said, shaking the bald one’s hand, “what’s the ruckus?”

“Search me, Dane.” He jabbed a thumb towards the top floor. “The juice is five flights above my pay grade.”

I looked up. “Just five? You get promoted?”

“Could be,” he said, “they don’t tell me nothing.”

“Nothing’s more than I got now. What you reading?”

Temper pulled a copy of the Gold Coast Chronicle from under his arm. The headline read: PINNACLE’S COVERT MISSION - Exclusive Info On Our Hero’s Secret Activity.

“How long’s he been undercover, three days?” I said, and handed it back.

“Yeah.”

“That’s no big deal. Besides, it’s not like he won’t be back before next Hero’s Day.”

“Team Supreme’s saying half a week more, tops. That’s still plenty of time for something really, really big to go down.”

“Yeah.” I looked up at the fifth floor again. “You know why it’s so quiet, right?”

“Because Glory Anna is-”

“Nope.”

“You don’t think because the SPECs?” Temper said. “Director Humphries-”

“Wrong again. The white capes and silver clad coppers are clearly tighter than ever, but for my money it’s respect. The black cape community may talk a mean game about Pinhead, but each and every one owes the Toast of Gold Coast in one way or another, and everyone’s a little off without him here.”

“Maybe you’re right. He saved my cousin way back when.”

“That’s a popular tune,” I said.

“Jeez, if you like Pinnacle so much why not marry the sop?” It was the kid.

I turned to him and said, “Who’s this?”

“This here’s Rush,” Temper said. “He’s a speedster. Rush, meet an old friend, Dane Curse.”

“You’re Dane Curse?” Rush extended his hand. “The Coconut Swindle Dane Curse?”

I shook it, and said, “Yeah, that’s me.”

Temper laughed.

“Wow. Nice to meet you,” Rush said. “Hey, so uh, you still carry that thing around?”

“What thing?”

“You know what thing. The Kapowitzer.”

“Lois?” I pulled back my jacket revealing the pistol beneath. “Always.”

“Can I see it?” He asked like it was candy.

“Never on the first date, and besides, you didn’t say please. Hey!”

The kid lived up to the speedster rep as he reached towards Lois faster than I followed, but before I could stop him he leapt back screaming, cradling his hand as it started to smoke. “What the hell was that?”

“I tried to tell you, she don’t like getting pawed by strange men. Anybody touches her but me…”

Temper chuckled as he pat the young man’s shoulder. “They’re like puppies at this age. They shove their noses everywhere.”

I nodded. “You alright?”

“Ha ha, yeah, fine. Got a fast system, I’ll heal quick enough.”

“Glad to hear it.” I turned to Temper. “Hey, I can’t help but notice how dead it is out here. How many they got on repeller duty tonight?”

“How should I know? Why don’t you get upstairs already, Gravel’s been waiting.”

“What? They got Gravel out of bed for this?”

“Apparently. He’s been up there for over an hour with Hoarfrost and Sledge.”

“Ok, thanks. And keep in touch, will you? Nice meeting you, Rush.” I meant it, too. The kid was cocky but who wasn’t at that age, and if Temper liked him that was good enough for me. He’s always been a straight shooter, even after he joined the Sindicate. To prove it once more he’d given me the heads up: there was a high ranking board member with two other investigators already here. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate it, but he shouldn’t be so sweet, it’ll doom him to lower management.

#

From outside the building looked like it may’ve been nice once, but I could see one step in that day had long passed. Water stains like liver spots dotted the floors, ceiling, and walls while the smell of warm wood rot hung in the air thick like an old whore’s perfume. Of course the elevator was busted so I took the stairs, and if there was one that didn’t creak I didn’t step on it.

When I got to the fifth two heavies were guarding a door at the end of the hall. I walked past them and into a room where the only furnishings were a beat up chair and a turn-of-the-century television lit by a lone, naked bulb that was hanging by its neck.

In the middle of the room were two snoops, altered humans who have extra large mechanical eyes that can see down to the cellular level, cybernetic noses that make bloodhounds jealous, and amplified ears so sharp they can hear you change your mind. They were using all three to look, feel, and sniff for evidence.

It was a job I didn’t envy.

A deep, booming voice said, “You’re running late.” Gravel was standing in the bedroom doorway, his white on white eyes staring out from a face of living, gray stone. I peeked over him, and saw a clean, white sheet covering what had to be a body. On the wall behind it was a lot of blood.

“Hey Gravel,” I said, and shut the door behind me. “I’m doing good, thanks for asking.”

“No one cares.”