Inertia

Inertia felt the ground before the impact. The fall was relatively pleasant from his perspective, or as pleasant as falling 40 stories and face-planting into the city street could be. He may have landed softly, but he definitely didn’t enjoy being surprised by some low-level grunt who shoved him off of the roof. He should have heard the brute approaching.

Dusting himself off and giving a wave to the concerned citizens that had formed a circle around his craterless impact zone, Inertia bent his knees and leapt up off the ground. He ignored the pop in his left knee and the sun blinding him as he rose 10…20…30 stories…

The grunt was still boasting about how he got the drop on the famous Inertia when he saw the iconic silver and cerulean-colored hero shoot back up into the sky and land effortlessly upon the roof. The lackey was joined by a few other lowlifes who brandished pipes or pistols. Inertia couldn’t help but smirk as the first few bullets hit his body and fell harmlessly to the ground. Spectactors always loved when he weaved in between the bullets like a ballerina, but he found, in recent years, his back preferred it when he stood there and let the gunmen waste their shots. 

Inertia ran forward and threw a controlled punch into the gut of his shover, who fell to his knees retching. He was about to leap over to his next target when he felt the equivalent of a red hot dagger stabbing into his brain. 

“Damn it, not now…” he coughed out, staggering. The three remaining criminals lifted their weapons, ready to take advantage of the opportunity. Inertia rubbed the sweat off his forehead and used every ounce of power to quickly knee one criminal, slam another into the ground, and finally deck the last one in the face. 

Inertia hunched over, hands on his knees as he took deep breaths. He wiped more sweat off his brow as his hand grazed over his domino mask. Looking down at his unconscious foes, only one thought was on his mind: “When did this become so hard?”

***

Neil Novak fiddled with his shirt as he walked into his local coffee shop. After nearly five decades, his costume still felt uncomfortable under his civilian clothes. As much as he hated to admit it, he wished he had one of those newfangled nanocloth suits the kid heroes were all wearing these days. Of course, that meant having actual money instead of the bare minimum to get groceries and feed his coffee fix.

Neil got in line behind five people, most of them mindlessly scrolling on their phones. He looked up at the menu even though he knew he’d get the same thing as always, yet his mind was focused on the conversation between the two teenage boys in front of him. 

“I’m tellin’ ya man, Red Hot is the best hero out there right now! She’s takin’ down baddies left and right, plus she just got that big brand deal with Victoria’s Secret. I’ll take a hero and a hottie over some of those old stiffs too stubborn to retire,” the kid on the left said.

“I know you don’t care for the classic heroes, but you got to have respect for these guys who have been fighting crime since the ’60s and ’70s. Hell, heroes like Nightlight and The Hammer are still out there, and they’ve gotta be old as shit,” his friend responded as they stepped forward.

“The Nightlight running around now is definitely not the same Nightlight from the ’70s, and The Hammer is like an immortal god or some shit. They don’t count.”

Neil couldn’t help but chuckle. These “hero debates” that civilians always had never ceased to amuse him. 

“Okay, well what about Inertia? That guy’s been going since the ’70s, and he’s definitely the same dude.”

Neil perked up. This hero debate suddenly got very interesting. 

“Yeah, he’s been going since the ’70s, and it shows. You see clips of him on the news lately? Guy’s gotten super slow. He’s lucky those bullets just bounce off him ‘cos he ain’t dodging them anymore. My cousin told me she was at that bank heist that went down on South Street. Inertia showed up, and she swore she saw the guy keel over after taking out the robbers. He just don’t get it anymore.”

The boys moved to the counter and gave their orders to the café worker while Neil looked down at the floor, the words repeating over and over in his head: He just don’t got it anymore. 

***

“What do those kids know?” Neil whispered sharply to himself for what had to have been the fifth time as he walked into his apartment building. He still had his coffee in his hand, though by now it had cooled and was still mostly full.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Novak,” the front receptionist said as he walked by.

“Afternoon, Charlie! Hope you’re doing well.” Neil could remember when Charlie was just a little kid, standing behind his father, Martin, who owned the building. 

“I am, thank you! I hope the same goes for you, sir.” As Neil walked past he heard Charlie fumble for something before calling out, “Oh sir, I almost forgot! My dad gave me this to give to you.” Charlie handed a sealed envelope to Neil with his name written finely across the back. 

“Ah, thank you! Been a while since I got a letter from him. Have a great night, Charlie. Good luck with your college exams coming up,” Neil said as he made his way to the elevator.

“Thank you, sir! Have a good night!”

***

Neil placed his key into his apartment door and unlocked it, stepping in as he fumbled with the letter in his other hand. He shut the door, placed his keys in their wall nook and tried to tear open the envelope. His hands shook, and it took him a few slow breaths to concentrate. He pulled the letter out, realized he hadn’t turned on the light, and groaned at how little the illumination helped with trying to read the letter.

Dear Neil,

How are you doing, old man? I hope the apartment’s still treating you well! Don’t be afraid to let me know if there’s anything you need, you can always run requests through Charlie. Kid still thinks the world of you, and he doesn’t even know that you saved his dear old dad all those years ago! Anyhoo, don’t be a stranger. I know you refuse to get a phone, but you can always use the landline downstairs to give me a call. 

Your friend, 

Martin

Neil placed the letter on his small dining table and reread the words. Old man. He knew Martin meant it in jest, but the phrase couldn’t help but feel like more salt in the wound caused by today’s events. Still, he would always be appreciative of Martin’s insistence that he provide Neil with a place to live, free of charge. He saved Martin’s life during a major car chase ages ago, and Martin made it clear just how grateful he was. Thank goodness for Martin’s kindness, otherwise Neil would have been out of a home a long time ago. All these modern age heroes were picked up by sponsors and corporations, running around wherever their bosses told them to go. Neil swore he’d never sell out like that, even with his old job as a 911 dispatcher paying peanuts. 

Sitting down in his recliner, Neil rubbed his temples as he felt his body deflate. He looked around his very white walls with photos that hadn’t been updated since the early 2000s. He glanced through the images of his friends and comrades, many of whom were no longer around. Neil let out the breath he was holding and turned on the TV. As he watched his nightly game shows, he felt his eyes droop, and the world around him quickly drifted away. 

***

He rose with a start, nearly toppling out of his recliner, as the words “Breaking News” zipped across his television screen.

“This just in! It seems the villain called ‘Blastwave’ has escaped police custody after being defeated by Amazon’s very own hero, Stardust, earlier today. Blastwave has taken a hostage and is reported to be hiding out at a nearby construction site. Police are asking for citizens to remain indoors and not engage, though both they and any hero that’s attempted to get close to the construction site have been sent flying by Blastwave’s shock waves. This is Rishi Oak with Channel 11, and we will keep you posted as this story develops.”

His civilian clothes were off before the reporter even finished her description. The news had cut to a shot of the construction site that Neil instantly recognized. His costume was still a bit sweaty from his earlier escapades, but he figured the hostage would prefer a smelly hero saving them versus none at all. 

He peered at himself in the mirror as he moved towards his window. For the first time ever, Neil didn’t recognize himself as he stared at his own silver and cerulean costume with its giant “I” emblazoned right smack in the middle of his chest. Neil didn’t see Inertia, a veteran superhero who had saved thousands of people over the years. He just saw an old man in a funny looking outfit, with hair too gray and skin too saggy. Neil knew there was a decision hanging in the air, but it would have to wait because right now someone needed him. He focused on his own inertia, willing it to slow as he leaped out of his window and made his way toward his quarry, ignoring the migraine that seemed to plague him every time he used his abilities.

***

The construction site was lit up like a Christmas tree by police lights. A ground force, along with several helicopters, circled the site and formed a perimeter, staying far enough away that they wouldn’t be hit by Blastwave’s attacks. Inertia had gone up against Blastwave a couple of times, though she wasn’t part of his normal roster of dumbasses playing supervillains. She wasn’t all that bright, but her ability to generate shock waves out of thin air helped make up for that. Getting close to her was incredibly difficult, unless of course you could control your own inertia and resist the force of the shock waves. 

Inertia settled on top of one of the beams on the 22nd floor of the construction site. The new building still had another 6 or 7 months before it would be completed, assuming it survived the upcoming battle with a person who could destroy it with a thought. Inertia still hadn’t seen Blastwave, but he did see a young man tied up and gagged. The news report had only mentioned one hostage, and it made sense that Blastwave would only have time to grab one if she was hightailing it here. There was something oddly familiar about the hostage. Regardless, he had to set eyes on Blastwave before he made an effort to rescue the hostage, otherwise the young man could get hurt in the crossfire.

“Looking for someone?” 

Inertia attempted to protect himself from the shock wave but was a second too late as he fell off the beam and landed hard on the cement floor. A woman decked out like an ’80s biker, with her ripped leather jacket, stepped in front of the fallen hero. Damn his hearing– he should have heard her coming. With the ringing in his ears, hearing in general wasn’t really an option at the moment.

“I’ll give you props for getting past my shock waves to get up here, but come on, old man…did you really think you’d get the drop on me?” Blastwave cracked her knuckles and pointed her open palm at Inertia. “Now be a good little hero and die.”

The ringing faded as Inertia managed to leap up, landing on his feet and activating his powers just in time to shield himself from the compressed air shooting at him. “Give it up, Blastwave. The police and other heroes will be here soon! Just let the hostage go.”

Her response came in the form of two more quick blasts shot at his head and legs, though he managed to stand his ground as he took several steps towards her. The stabbing in his head was intense but manageable. He could do this. 

“You think you can stop me? All you did was kill that kid I kidnapped.” With that declaration, Blastwave ran towards her frightened hostage who struggled against his bindings unsuccessfully in an attempt to get away from her.

Inertia doubled his efforts, focusing all his willpower on racing in front of Blastwave. The shock wave aimed at her hostage hit Inertia as he stepped in front of her, his powers mitigating its effect. In one swift movement, Inertia pushed Blastwave to the ground a few feet away from him and made his way over to the hostage. 

Inertia ripped the bindings free and took the gag out of the young man’s mouth. It was in that moment that Inertia realized he did recognize the young man: it was Charlie, Martin’s son who worked at his father’s building. He had a bloodied lip and some light bruising but, otherwise, wasn’t worse for wear. 

 “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Just like that, Inertia thought to himself proudly. Still got it. The bad guy was down, the hostage was free, and Martin was going to jump for joy after hearing Inertia saved his son, followed by a probable panic attack after the shock of his son being kidnapped hit him. Yet, after taking just a few steps, Inertia fell on all fours, the contents of his stomach forcing their way up and out as he vomited. His migraine had gone from intense to agonizing as it felt like dozens upon dozens of claws ripping into his head. He had used his powers too flagrantly and was now paying the price. 

“Come on Inertia, you got to get up!” He heard Charlie say as the young man knelt next to him, trying to help the downed hero to his feet. Before Inertia could even attempt to stand, he felt himself being pushed out of the way, a bit roughly, but just in time to avoid being hit by a surprise shock wave attack. Blastwave was standing again, her palm facing out towards her target.

Inertia looked back to his original spot and saw Charlie’s body lying prone on the ground. His head was twisted to the side, his eyes lacked any spark as they stared unblinking. The shock wave had killed him instantly. His last action was to save Inertia’s life, only to suffer a horrific end. 

He felt Blastwave’s throat in his hand before he registered what was happening. The supervillainess struggled in his grip, not strong enough to do severe damage but definitely firm enough to hold her in place. Inertia looked into the eyes of this stupid woman playing dress up, playing with people’s lives as if they were insignificant pawns on a chess board. Yet, even as the adrenaline and anger flowed freely through him, one thought stopped him from breaking a code he swore he never would: I could have saved him. 

Correction, his mind said: you could have saved him ten years ago. But now? 

Inertia gave a quick chop to Blastwave’s neck, knocking her unconscious as he laid her on the ground. He looked back to the broken form of the young man who had saved his life. The man who had looked up to him for years. The man whose father had graciously given Inertia a place to call home for decades. Now, Martin would never get to speak to his son again.

People died, he knew that. He had seen plenty of people die in front of him, whether they be close friends or complete strangers. Yet he had known that he wasn’t directly responsible for their deaths: he had the ability to save them, just not the opportunity. But this death, this senseless, needless demise could have been stopped. 

Inertia took one final look at Charlie’s limp body, closing the man’s eyes before turning his attention to the night sky. He could hear the sirens of the police coming closer as they realized the shock waves keeping them away had ceased. When the police finally arrived, they came upon the unconscious form of Blastwave and the corpse of her hostage with no hero in sight.Though the news would only report one death from the incident that night, a lone domino mask left at the scene revealed the truth: two people had died, one too early and one long overdue.