January 1983

“It’s a metahuman event. That’s all I’m prepared to say right now.”

“Soldier Boy,” one of the reporters interjected, “can you tell us the source of that light show? Exactly how dangerous is this event?”

“I’ll tell you afterwards. How about that?”

“Provided the world is still in one piece afterwards,” another reporter offered. Soldier Boy joined the press corps in a laugh even though the remark was entirely too close to the mark.

“Like I said: metahuman event. I’ll talk to you later.”

The press was not willing to accept such a vague explanation just as Soldier Boy knew would be the case. He turned away from them as they pressed for more details. With a quick wave he disappeared behind the police cordon.

He never enjoyed speaking to the press, but this was one of those cases that needed a lot of planning and set-up of which he could take no part. All he could do was keep the barking dogs at bay while the other two members of the DC3 set themselves to the task of saving the world.

The Chief of Police intercepted Soldier Boy. The man was just a hair’s breadth from all-out panic. “Soldier Boy, we’re running out of time. I hate to say it, but I think we should give more thought to using Plan B.

“We made it Plan B for a reason, Chief,“ Soldier Boy said. “Remember?”

“Yes, of course, but we’re running out of time.”

“There’s plenty of time.”

“We just have a few minutes left.”

“Plenty of time.”

The Chief looked like he could burst into tears. “But there are so many lives at risk. Plan B would be so much safer for everyone.”

“You mean everyone else.” Soldier Boy stabbed a finger in the Chief’s face. “We still have plenty of time for Plan B, but we’re going to try Plan A first. We owe her that much.” Soldier Boy stormed off to ensure having the final word.

Maiden America was nearby tinkering with her high tech thingamajig. “How’s it going?” Soldier Boy asked her. “This thing going to work?”

She gave him a pre-programmed smile. “Yes, the trans-dimensional vortex is ready to return the entity to its home dimension, provided Citizen Arcane successfully removes the entity from the host.”

“He’ll get it done,” Soldier Boy said as he gave his robotic teammate a quick up and down look. When the DC3 was being formed focus groups complained that there was no female member of the team, so the powers that be came up with the brilliant idea of turning the robot into a female. She was given a wasp waist, a breathy voice, a wiggle in her walk, and most importantly chrome plated tits. Soldier Boy thought the whole thing was ridiculous.

“That remains to be seen,” Maiden America replied. “I can not accurately predict the success of my mystical counterpart’s work, but we have four minutes and 27 seconds until we reach the point of mission failure.”

“Plenty of time,” Soldier Boy said.

It had been over an hour since the inter-dimensional entity took over its carefully selected host. Since that time it had been building in strength. Soon it would be powerful enough to make a psychic connection with every human being on the planet and devour all of that psychic energy in one gulp.

Having checked on Maiden America, Soldier Boy went to touch base with Hamilton Hudson. Hamilton was a legacy hero working under the name Citizen Arcane, just as his grandfather had done years before. That was where the similarities ended. While the first Citizen Arcane was a hardcore patriot to the point of being a reactionary, his namesake was more of an incense and crystals new-age guru. Soldier Boy got along well with Citizen Arcane who was often gracious enough to share his weed. Not Soldier Boy’s drug of choice, but he figured it doesn’t hurt to be sociable, especially when he can get fucked up in the process. Soldier Boy found Citizen Arcane surrounded by magical paraphernalia and seated in the lotus position in front of the entity.

“How we doing, Ham?”

“We do well, Soldier Boy,” Citizen Arcane said, his eyes closed and a relaxed smile on his face. “My preparations are complete, and I’m ready to start as soon as you give the word.”

“The word is given.” Soldier Boy gave Maiden America the stand-by signal while Citizen Arcane regulated his breathing and began speaking words from a language created by beings that were not remotely human.

Soldier Boy looked at the glowing mass that was the entity. He had to squint to make out the human form of the host floating inside.

“Hang in there, sweetie,” he mumbled to himself. “Just a couple more minutes.”

“Damn,” Citizen Arcane said.

“What’s the matter, Ham?”

“I screwed up the incantation, SB. Its cool. I just have to start over.”

“Plenty of time,” Soldier Boy said. “Just don’t dawdle.”

Citizen Arcane nodded, took a moment or two to regulate his breathing again, and began his incantation.

“One minute, thirty seconds until mission failure,” Maiden America called out helpfully. It was exactly the wrong thing for Citizen Arcane to hear. The enormity of the moment struck him. He swallowed hard and stopped incanting.

“Ham?”

“It’s cool, SB. I got it. I got it.”

“Plenty of time,” Soldier Boy said, but he was unable to mask the urgency he was feeling. Citizen Arcane began incanting for the third time.

“One minute until mission failure.”

“Jesus!” Citizen Arcane cried out. “Can’t you make that damned thing shut up?”

“Shut up,” Soldier Boy screamed at Maiden America who dutifully obeyed.

Citizen Arcane was not looking good. He was pale and agitated as he tried to return to a placid state.

“You can do this, Ham,” Soldier Boy said. “I know you can.”

But he couldn’t, and he succumbed to a full scale panic attack, wild eyed, sweating buckets and hyperventilating.

Soldier Boy grabbed Citizen Arcane by the shoulders. “Ham!”

There was no possibility of Citizen Arcane pulling himself together in time for the plan to work, and in that moment he stopped being Soldier Boy’s friend and instead became the sorriest son of a bitch on a planet full of sons of bitches.

“Fuck you!” Soldier Boy said as he slapped Citizen Arcane across the face.

The Chief of Police stood nearby staring at the entity as tears ran down his face. He held his gun by his side. Soldier Boy marched over and took the gun from his hand.

Facing the entity as it neared critical mass Soldier Boy tried to find another way out. There had to be another way.

No time.

Soldier Boy fired five rounds into the host’s chest. Center of mass. Tight grouping. Clean kill. Plan B.

The host’s body fell to the ground, and without that powerful mind to contain it, the entity emerged with a burst of energy that was spectacular, but harmless. The creature hovered before Soldier Boy in it’s original form, an angry, amorphous cloud of energy.

It attacked Soldier Boy and tried to enter his mind. It wasn’t as ideal a home as the one it just left, but the entity could not afford to be picky. Soldier Boy could hear the alien thing screaming in his head. “Damn you. Damn you. Break you. Hurt you. Fuck you. Take you. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“Stay the fuck out of my head,” Soldier Boy screamed stubbornly even though he knew he could not hold out very long.

There as a whine like a jet engine on steroids. The entity became a thin stream of light as it was sucked into Maiden America’s inter-dimensional vortex. The robotic hero powered down the machine, trapping the entity on the other side.

“Our mission is completed successfully,” Maiden America said with a voice programmed to sound victorious. Otherwise there was an empty silence as the participants and witnesses came to grips with what happened. That silence was pierced by the animal sound of a woman reduced to crushing grief.

She rushed forward and threw herself on the host’s bloody body, sobbing deeply. In time a couple of government agents came forward and led her from the scene. They spoke soothing words and appeared compassionate, but Soldier Boy knew better. Even now they were starting to work her. It was part of the process of making the bad go away.

Somehow they would find some way to win her silence, and a cover story would be draped over the truth. Nobody would have to know about the ugly thing that happened here.

But Soldier Boy knew.

He stood there over Jenny Pate’s body until she was carried off by the coroner. Something inside him wanted to look away, but he refused. He etched every detail into his mind. Jenny's pink pajamas with the feet in them. The cheerful cartoon character on her shirt peeking from behind the gory mess that Soldier Boy made. The vacant stare on the little girl’s face. For years to come this grisly scene would be what he saw every time he blinked. Every year he would observe her birthday and keep track of the milestones that she would miss. He would try to keep a running tab of what he owed the damn swear jar, and when he lost track he had his first nervous breakdown. Of all the ugly things that Soldier Boy had to live with this would become the worst.

This would become the wound that never healed.