BVLJ #6: Venting

***Bill Wade is trapped in a Cintrano nightclub following a raid by the Vagrant. The police are closing in, along with Lea Extra - on the trail of size-changing tech. Worst of all, Wade's only 4 inches tall...how will he escape?***

Bill Wade was hiding in an air vent. Not a big, person-sized vent like people crawled through in the movies, but a letter-box-sized vent, buried in the nightclub walls. He was able to fit, with plenty of space, because he was four-damn-inches tall. He had been for two hours, since those two crazy women arrived. Now, everything normal was huge and dangerous.

Once he’d escaped to the vent, he’d trekked in three directions away from the club floor, out to an alleyway where there were rats lurking, through to a set of toilets where the opening was too high to jump from, and out to an opening by the main entrance, which sat close to a busy sidewalk. Rats, toilets or oblivious pedestrians, it wasn’t much choice. He’d returned to the club floor, and the original vent he’d crawled in, and considered sneaking back out to find a phone. There wasn’t much danger there now. There were upturned tables, broken chairs and smashed glass, but no people. No sign of a phone, either, but he might be able to reach his own cell in the locker rooms out back. Though who he’d call, he didn’t know. His closest friends had just been killed. His ex Chrissy would probably flush him down a toilet at this height.

Just as Wade was deciding to head out, he heard sirens outside. Cars pulled over, doors opened and closed. People talked loudly outside, giving orders. Shit, the cops had arrived. They flooded into the nightclub as Wade took shelter in the air vent, just above floor level. Big black boots stomped about, men and women in uniforms sweeping through the room, aiming guns under tables as if the rest of the Cintrano gang were waiting to pounce out.

Idiots – there was obviously no one left. Only Wade.

He watched the giants anxiously. Even the female officers were monstrously huge, capable of squishing him flat if he crossed their path. They probably would, too; mistake him for a bug and stomp him on instinct. If they didn’t, his options weren’t much better: Bill Wade was a career criminal and the cops wouldn’t go lightly on him just because he was the size of a doll.

Wade listened as the cops calmed down and some detectives instructed a perimeter be set up around the property, so that every inch could be searched. Officers were already coming back to report there was no sign of anyone. They knew something was up, though; there were cars parked in the lot, clear signs of a struggle, and a few small blood splatters. The splats were too singular and too dense for gunshot wounds or cuts, so forensics guys in plastic overalls came in to figure them out. Wade knew well enough how they’d been created – mostly by a big, ugly boot.

Detective Paxon, a mean-looking guy in a beige duster with a shaved head, known to everyone in Orias City, shouted for information on one particular goon. He gave the name Ashford, which wasn’t familiar to Wade. Then he gave a description: slim build, parted blond hair, scar below his left ear. This Ashford was Joey Morello, a guy Wade had shared more than a few drinks with. Friendly, charming, Wade saw it now. Morello, AKA Ashford, was a snitch. He must’ve hit a panic button when the lunatics started shrinking everyone. Wade had seen him die, though; his cop pals weren’t going to find the remains.

There was a brief commotion and hushed comments went through the room as a newcomer arrived, and Wade shifted in his vent to get a look past the giants. A stunning woman walked in, Lea Extra, wearing a tight superhero one-piece suit, this one with knee-high blue boots, a cape, blue pants and a utility belt at her waist. She had shoulder-length dirty-blonde hair and a grim expression. Unusual for Lea, who was usually seen beaming smugly for the papers.

“Is it what it sounds like?” she demanded of Paxon, who immediately offered caveats about how they couldn’t draw any conclusions yet. As he laid that out, one of the forensics guys came away from a blood smear announcing he’d found tiny bones.

“They could’ve been murdering rodents, or . . .” He let them draw their own conclusions. Paxon swore and Lea Extra issued orders of her own.

“Check every little hole in this place. Under the furniture, behind cushions, in the vents. Imagine we’re looking for lost keys; if anyone survived, they might be small, but we’re gonna find them.”

Lea stopped in the middle of the room as the officers went back to work scouring the nightclub, notably rather sceptical. Wade backed up uneasily. The vents – she’d explicitly said the vents. Time for him to bail. Better to take his chances with the rats.

“He barely got a word in,” Paxon was saying to Lea, explaining the contact they’d had from Ashford. “Only that they were under attack, someone making them smaller. If you can find my man –”

“I will,” Lea said, determinedly looking away from him. She was focusing her super-senses, listening through the walls. Wade inwardly cursed: she’d probably hear his footsteps through the vent. Maybe her hearing was even good enough to hear him breathing? Screw it, he figured, he needed to get out of there.

Wade hurried through the vent, leaving the sounds of the search behind, until he saw the opening into the alleyway. He froze, as a big shadow moved the other side of the slatted covering. A creature sniffed determinedly around the exit. It got a scent of him and pressed closer, snuffling excitedly. Bigger than a rat, maybe a dog. Trembling, Wade backed up and went another way. It’d been bad enough seeing the women attacking his miniaturised friends; he could imagine a dog would be even nastier.

Unthinking, Wade moved up a slope and climbed rivets that took him back to the toilet vent. At least it was further from the club floor and Lea’s senses. The vent opened near the ceiling, overlooking three toilet cubicles and a row of sinks and mirrors. A relatively clean room compared to the rest of the club, with dark blue tiles and brass fixings. The ladies’, he realised now.

The door opened and a woman walked in as though his thoughts had conjured her. She was an officer in full uniform, dark blue pants and tactical vest, and a cap with the city logo on it, brown hair poking out in a ponytail. She called over her shoulder to another officer as she entered, joking about checking this room on her own. The door swung shut. The officer scanned the sinks, then under them, checking in between the pipes, then all around a toilet, being exactly as thorough as Lea said. She was young and pretty – too pretty for a cop, Wade thought. And alone in here.

He weighed up his options again. Wait out the investigation, if he could stay hidden, and then what? Hope someone else came by who could help him? What if he tried his luck with this woman instead? He might persuade her to keep things quiet. He could offer her cash to take him out of here; half the cops in Orias were on the take anyway. Or, even better, what if he just caught a ride with her unawares. No one was going to search her, and Lea wouldn’t hear a separate heartbeat near hers. With all that equipment on her, he could find a pocket and wait until she got home, then figure something else out.

She started crouching along the skirting beneath him, following another pipe at floor level, humming distractedly to herself. Any second she’d look up and see the vent; this was his only chance. Wade slipped out between the slits, braced himself and waited. She stood up, bringing her head just below the vent. He jumped.

Wade judged it perfectly: he landed feet-first on the cop’s cap, almost at the centre. But his knees buckled and he fell into a roll. He couldn’t catch hold of the material and slipped with a cry, falling into space. He landed on his back, on the peak of her cap, and rolled again with a grunt. She was moving, tilting her head up, which made him roll faster – right off the edge. Wade dropped into free fall but got one hand onto the edge of the cap’s peak. He swung out and the cop gasped and stepped back. The movement shook him and her intake of breath breezed past his legs. One of her hands reached up to swat him off or grab him, but she managed to stop before striking him.

Wade hung stiffly as he saw the drop beneath his feet, past the cop’s massive body to a hard tile floor. Just as disconcerting, the woman’s face filled his vision ahead. Her big eyes stared wide at him, mouth slightly open, and her fingers, each bigger than his legs, hovered to his right.

“Holy shit,” the cop whispered. She glanced to the door, considering calling for backup.

“No, wait!” Wade cried. “Don’t tell them I’m here, not yet! Please!”

The woman paused, thrown by the weirdness of the situation. She turned her hand and held her palm under Wade. It was a safe platform, big enough to hold him, but a living platform of lined flesh with small callouses by the fingers. Wade cringed, no choice but to submit, and let go. Her skin was spongy, making him sway to keep his balance as she slightly lowered him.

“What happened to you?” the officer asked, quietly.

“Those two women were out of their minds,” Wade replied, the words ready to burst out now he had an audience. He caught himself from getting into it, though. “Lady, you’ve gotta help me. Don’t tell the others I’m here; look at the size of me, I can’t have people prodding at me and caging me or whatever. You look like a decent sort, I’m begging you.”

The cop frowned, conflicted. He was tiny enough that his pathetic show was keeping her sympathetic. Then he figured an angle.

“Listen, I’m a pig, like you,” Wade insisted, then paused. “Cop, I mean – shit, I’ve been hanging around these guys too long. Ashford? I was a plant. But with half the department corrupt, how easy do you think it’d be for someone to do away with me now? Paxon’s out bandying my name about so everyone knows it, shit. You’ve gotta protect me, keep me hidden until we can figure out a way to restore my size.”

“How did you shrink?” the woman asked. That being her question, Wade breathed relief. She was buying it, ready to help; he just needed to keep her distracted long enough that she didn’t pick at the details. Like how he looked nothing like Paxon’s description of Ashford.

“You know the Vagrant? That psycho clown of a woman. She’d been going to war with Cintrano, and we thought – the Duke thought she was on the ropes, but she marched in the club this evening, just her and that thief who thinks she’s a cat.”

“Ali Cat,” the cop said.

“That’s the one. Before anyone knew what was happening, they were popping off this light gun that shrank people in seconds. They shrank everyone – had to be thirteen guys in the club, mostly out on the floor. I guess they got the guards outside, too. It was like a game to them, after that. I made it into a vent, kept hidden, but I saw the lot, I did.”

“What did they . . .” The woman hesitated, and chose a more optimistic question. “Did anyone else survive?”

Wade glared unhappily. “Not that I saw. These broads came in with murder on the mind. The Vagrant straight up stomped on a couple of guys. Splatted them under her boots like damn roaches.” He sniffed with anger and grief; they were his friends. Remembering his role, he said, “Sorry. I’ve been with this outfit for a while; I know they were crooks, but we got close all the same.”

“I understand,” she said softly. “Look, I’m sure Detective Paxon –”

“No!” Wade said, louder. “No one else, are you listening to me? If you’d seen what happened, shit. The Cat, she started throwing guys about; she flicked them in the air or tossed them with her teeth. I saw her pull one guy apart, pinched an arm and a leg and just ripped them off. The Vagrant squeezed a guy in her fist till he popped. If you’d seen how easily they hurt everyone, these two girls, you wouldn’t want me anywhere near anyone that could pose a risk. You look like a good girl, I trust you. Paxon, he’s a hot-head, and those other guys out there, if just one got wind –”

The door swept open and the cop turned with surprise, almost throwing Wade off her palm. He fell to his hands and knees, pressing into her skin to keep steady. Lea Extra stood before them as the door closed behind her. She regarded Wade with fierce eyes, frighteningly huge as she loomed over him.

“They won’t find out,” Lea said.

The cop stuttered. “Ms – Ms Extra, I was about to –”

“It’s fine,” the superhero said. “I heard what he was saying. I’ve come to help.”

Wade sat back, sure her help wouldn’t be anywhere near as simple as the cop’s might’ve been. She must’ve picked up their conversation from across the club and rushed straight here. But she was alone and hadn’t alerted anyone else.

“You said they had a size gun?” Lea asked. “What did it look like? Did they give any indication where it came from or what it could do?”

It took another moment to recover from her scrutiny before Wade realised she had a personal interest here. Of course, her brother had died recently, with size-changing nonsense responsible. Wade managed to weakly reply, trying to be helpful, to pull off this snitch persona. He described the strange pistol Ali Cat held, and the rapid shrinking effects, but said it looked homemade. From the way the Vagrant laughed and made comments about how she wished they could do more, he figured Ali Cat had stolen it from somewhere.

“It had limitations?” Lea asked.

“The Vagrant mentioned that a few times,” Wade said. “She was thrilled at feeling big, kept saying so. She – she picked up Duke Cintrano and dangled him over her mouth. Paused to tell the Cat she wished she could put on a show like this for everyone. She’d climb a building and eat the mayor, she said. Then she just dropped Duke in her mouth like a fucking cherry. She chewed him up.”

Wade choked on the memory, but saw Lea wasn’t really listening, processing the other information. She drew quick conclusions. “It can’t make things bigger. It’s not the same tech as the others. Darcy has competition in town.”

“Darcy the Destroyer?” the cop asked. “You think this is related?”

“No, that’s the problem,” Lea said. “But it’s in the same ballpark. Maybe public knowledge about this would help draw Darcy out. Never mind.” She refocused, parking whatever plan she was concocting. “We’ll keep this man’s involvement quiet, at least. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

The cop shook her head earnestly; she wouldn’t dare say no to Lea Extra.

Without warning, Lea reached up to take Wade. He backed up, but there was nowhere to go. He wavered at the edge of the cop’s palm as Lea’s hand closed over him. He heard her say she’d take care of him as the cop offered quiet agreement. Wade squirmed slightly against her big fingers as he was lowered into a tight space. As she released him, he tried to climb back out, but Lea closed a flap on him, trapping him in a pouch. She gave a few more assurances to the officer then started walking, making Wade bounce in his confinement. He had to be at her hip height, swaying with every step.

Wade held himself in place and kept quiet, as he heard her comment to other officers, then Paxon himself. She was walking through the club, and told them she’d seen enough but she’d be in touch later. Then she went outside and shot skyward. Wade screamed as he lurched in the pouch, the hero flying through the city. His heart beat madly against his chest, and had barely calmed when they descended again. Then Lea was walking, entering another building, and finally she stopped and the pouch opened.

Wade retreated into a corner as Lea’s fingers reached in. She pinched him at the waist and lifted him into blinding light. His eyes cleared to reveal a maisonette, minimally decorated, big windows looking out over the city skyline. He barely had a second to take it in before he was swung through the air and lowered into a glass chamber. Lea let go and her hand retreated. Wade stood up and turned on the spot, glass surrounding him in a cylinder. It was a jar, she’d put him in a damn jar! As he looked up to protest, a lid came down on top, which she quickly turned. Four big holes pierced it.

Shouting, Wade ran at the wall and banged with his fists. “What are you doing? You can’t keep me in here, I’m an undercover cop!”

Lea crouched before him, her face swollen through the glass to make her look even more enormous. Her fingers closed on the jar and she gave him a slight shake, demonstrating how easily she could pick him up. Do anything to him. Satisfied that he was quiet, Lea smiled unpleasantly. She said, “You’re Bill Wade, one of Cintrano’s lieutenants. I know the gangs, Bill. But don’t worry, I’m not going to hand you over to anyone.”

Wade wanted to ask why not, and what the hell she was planning instead, but he was afraid to know the answer. She turned away, losing interest, and walked off through the apartment. Wade paced a circle. There was no way to climb and no chance to remove the lid if he did. Besides which, how would he escape an actual superhero?

He stopped pacing as he spotted an object to the right. There was another jar, a short distance along the shelf. In it stood a woman, about the same height as him, dressed in a shirt and skirt. Wade moved closer to the glass to get a better look and as she did the same. She looked dishevelled and desperate. What the hell? Was Lea collecting miniaturised people?

“What does she want with us?” Wade called out.

The shrunken woman shook her head and backed off again. He wasn’t sure if she was saying she didn’t know or warning him that he didn’t want to know.

***Next time on Big Villainy, Little Justice: Coming July 25th, 2022.