Mod Superhero

Chapter 4.13 - Patrol

Thankfully, Mod and Arsenal weren't given time to chat. A guard ushered them through to the main building. Mod half-expected to go back to the presentation room from yesterday, but instead, they were ushered to the corner of the lobby.

McGuire was slumped in a chair, head laying back against the wall. Sleeping.

Arsenal cleared her throat.

"Huh?! I'm up! I'm..." McGuire adjusted his mask and glanced up at them. "Oh, hey. You made it."

Mod chuckled. "Did Marlene keep you up?"

McGuire groaned. "Me and half the building. If I'm lucky, someone will feed her to the fish-men—"

Arsenal tossed a small cloth bag to McGuire and hit him in the face. "Brought you something. Don't say I never did anything for you."

McGuire opened it and held up the contents triumphantly. "Earplugs! Alright, I've decided: We can be friends. Did, uh, the Doctor make these?" Clara nodded. "Oh man, these are probably the best earplugs known to man."

~

Before McGuire could test his earplugs, the three of them were escorted back outside to a Summit helicopter. Mod and McGuire sat across from each other in the passenger compartment, while Arsenal insisted on flying beside them.

It was eerie having so much room in the helicopter. Just yesterday, they'd been packed in like sardines.

Serenity's voice came through their headsets.

She explained that they would meet the previous patrol group on the Northern outskirts on the East side of Belport. Then Mod's group would patrol a loop around Eastside. At the same time, two other groups of Summit capes would patrol downtown and the West End. That way there would always been three teams keeping an eye on the city.

Serenity stressed using their best judgment when it came to engaging any enemies they encountered. There were reports of small groups of Deep Ones pushing into the city—thought to be scouts. Mod's group was free to engage these and Serenity stressed the importance of putting the creatures down quickly.

If they encountered any large groups, they were to call for backup before engaging. The three of them were each given an emergency grenade—a combo of bright smoke and GPS signal. They were supposed to call for backup on their radio and use the grenade.

"Sounds easy enough," McGuire said. "No one be a hero and we'll be fine."

Mod pretended not to hear. He looked out the window at the flooded city.

~

Mod leapt from building to building. McGuire followed close behind using a mix of his spring-loaded boots and grappling hook. Arsenal flew overhead.

It was an eerily familiar feeling, except for the waves lapping at the second-floor windows. The smell of salt spray and oil lingered in the air. Streetlights protruded above the water like the masts of sunken ships.

Their path meandered across Eastside, sticking to the offices and parking garages that were closer together. Occasionally, Arsenal had to carry McGuire across wider streets.

Meanwhile, Mod stretched his legs. He hurtled over gaps with borderline Class 3 strength—his prosthetic legs further bolstered by his implanted batteries and Gait Enhancement. On the larger gaps, Mod's jumps were so violent he had to tuck his arms and tighten his entire body. When he pushed his limits, he made sure to only leap from the corners of reinforced structures like parking garages. Otherwise, he might've caved in a roof.

Mod was so strong that he rarely needed his whip to help him traverse rooftops. Now he only used it to slow down and stay close to McGuire.

The hardest part was keeping an eye on the waves while he was jumping and swinging.

Every few minutes, Mod would glimpse shadows or movements beneath the waves.

"See anything?" Mod asked.

Arsenal replied, "Still nothing. Trust me—I'll call out when I see something."

It felt like Mod's eyes were playing tricks on him. Even with his enhanced vision and Arsenal's reassurances from above, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched.

The feeling that the Deep Ones were lurking just beneath the surface.

Movement in a nearby building caught Mod's attention.

"I think we got one. Follow my lead."

Mod was already leaping off his roof. He lashed out with his whip and swung wide, then tucked just before he hit the glass. He burst through, tumbled across the office floor, and rose to face his enemy.

But he was alone.

Mod skulked around the room, his fists clenched and whip snaking through the air.

The office was open and most of the furniture was undisturbed. The carpet was wet though... Completely soaked through. The air was thick and stagnant, the smell of mildew bordering on mold.

McGuire asked over the comm, "Mod, what's going on?"

"I don't see anything... Arsenal, I need your eyes."

She flew in a moment later, twisting gracefully through the broken pane of glass. Her exosuit boots squished on the soaked carpet.

Together, they swept the room.

And found absolutely nothing.

"I'm telling you, I saw something in here."

"We've all been on edge," Arsenal replied. "It could've been the light or the waves playing tricks on you."

"What about the floor?"

TINA replied, "The carpet seems equally saturated throughout the floor. Even though this is the third floor, it's likely from storm surges or even burst piping."

Mod groaned in frustration.

Arsenal added, "If there was something here, it's gone now. Let's keep patrolling."

Mod turned, scanning the room quickly, but it was just as empty as before. Finally, he relented.

Maybe his brain really was playing tricks on him.

~

Around noon, the group stopped on the edge of a parking garage for a snack. The boardwalk was all but gone, save for the Ferris wheel and tower swing sticking out above the water. When the waves ebbed, they could just make out the roofs of old shops. Cloaked drones floated overhead.

Mod and McGuire sat on one of the concrete barricades, while Arsenal flipped open the lower half of her helmet.

McGuire pulled out a packet of trail mix and dumped the entire thing in his mouth.

Mod pulled out two Mighty Munch bars. "What flavor do you want, Arsenal? Cranberry or... Banana?"

"Cranberry," she replied without hesitation.

McGuire's eyes widened. "Venture had those? No way. Let me see that... Holy shit, they—'' McGuire snorted a laugh. "They expired three years ago!"

Arsenal took a bite of her cranberry bar and chewed slowly. Even with half her face hidden, it was clear that cranberry wasn't a winning flavor.

McGuire tossed the banana-flavored bar back to Mod and pulled out another packet of trail mix. He chewed and his face suddenly went pale.

"What?" Mod asked, thinking his friend was choking.

McGuire swallowed. "Oh, man... I hope he's got better taste in earplugs than he's got in snack bars."

~ ~ ~