Rick Sheridan removed his jacket as he returned home from class. Pouring himself another cup of coffee as he muttered about the late October winds, he shook his head and hit his answering machine. Four messages…
"Ricky, honey, it's your mother," the first message began. "You haven't called us in weeks. Is something the matter? That nice Alyssa girl told us about the problems you've been having with your marks. Your father and I aren't angry, we just want to know-"
Rick promptly hit the Delete button.
He sighed-his parents were just worried about him-but what could he do?
He could hardly tell them he was fused with an alien from another world.
"Dammit Rick, where the hell were you?" Red's angry voice came in on the next message. "You promised to meet me after the game, and we'd go out for beer. You just blow me off like it was nothing! Give me one reason why I shouldn't put my foot--"
Rick promptly hit the Delete button.
He shook his head-Red had every right to be angry, and he could have sure used that beer-but what could he do?
It didn't help his guilt.
"Mr. Sheridan, I'd like to know why you did not make our appointment to discuss your Chemistry homework," Professor Warren's raspy, jackal-like voice came through on the answering machine. "You know very well that I do not make such appointments lightly, and I am very disappointed that-"
Rick promptly hit the Delete button.
He rubbed his temples-he had trouble concentrating on his chemistry homework, when he was able to remember it, and now he'd forgotten a major appointment-but what could he do?
It didn't improve his headaches or dizziness.
"Rick, something's wrong," Alyssa said calmly on the last message. "I know there is. Please, can't you just tell-"
Rick promptly hit the Delete button.
At first he wanted to scream-he had been ignoring her-but what could he do?
Alyssa was…well…what was she anymore?
Rick just slumped down in a chair, picking at his nails. He lay there for some time, his mind wandering aimlessly, before he remembered about the readings he had to do. Forcing himself to his feet, he hobbled off to get his notes, before flopping down on the couch in front of his TV, leaning back, and beginning to read.
He yawned loudly, his mind continuing to wander.
He got about ten pages in before he simply tossed the book aside, wondering why exactly he was supposed to care about something by Kenneth Grahame, who was supposed to have hated writing anyway.
Rick continued to work throughout the evening, until he finally yawned and fell asleep. Had he been more apt to concentrate, he would have known about the assignment on Kenneth Grahame due tomorrow, or the chemistry mid-term he was supposed to be studying for. His humanities classes at ESU had midterm essays instead of exams, but the science courses went with exams all the way.
This, of course, was lost on Rick as he fell asleep.
SLEEPWALKER #7
"POLICE BRUTALITY"
Sleepwalker's nightly patrols had been uneventful, until sometime after eleven o'clock, when he passed through a mostly darkened suburb. One house was lit up, its door wide open. Curious, the alien descended to investigate, already suspicious and on alert.
He floated into the home, hearing muffled screams, laughs and curses. There was broken and upturned furniture, with wall pictures hanging cracked and lopsided. Blood was visible on the floor and walls. Sleepwalker finally came into the back den, where he found a grisly scene: a family of four, the husband and son tied and knocked senseless, broken and bleeding, and the wife and daughter bound and held down. Standing over them were five punks, some them greasy hoods, others well-dressed young preps who no doubt thought their parents would buy them out of any trouble they got into. The punks were masked, holding knives, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. They were standing over the daughter, about to…she glared defiantly at them, thrashing hard and refusing to scream. It was taking four of the five men to pin her down.
Sleepwalker seethed inwardly. Of all the criminals he had come to know during his short time in the world of humans, home invaders had become the ones he hated the most. Robbing a bank or place of business was one thing-usually all that was lost was money and possessions. But when criminals attacked and invaded someone's home, they invaded that person's personal space. It was about power as much as money-they not only took control of the person's home, but also, on another level, their very lives.
Home invaders reminded Sleepwalker of the scum he fought and captured in the Mindscape-monsters that attacked a person's mind to try and drive them mad, or feed on their mental energies. Whether it was the home or the mind, it was the same thing: the animals who did these things attacked a person in the one place they truly had sanctuary, when the person had done nothing to them and could not resist their attack.
They attacked innocent people who couldn't fight back.
The thugs looked up in amazement at Sleepwalker.
"You are all very strong and brave, I must admit," Sleepwalker addressed them sardonically. "Attacking a suburban family that cannot fight back must take a great deal of courage."
The punks looked at each other.
"Since you have all proven your bravery, why not come to a new challenge? Test yourselves against someone who can fight back. Or are you too frightened? Too weak?" Sleepwalker's eyes gleamed.
Angrily, four of the thugs leapt up and charged Sleepwalker, enraged by the alien's taunts.
A double punch with both fists knocked out the two knife-wielders who charged. The bat-wielder charged at Sleepwalker, but he merely flashed his warp vision and peeled the baseball bat back like a banana skin. The thug gawked, and Sleepwalker punched him out. The alien caught the crowbar of the last thug and wrenched it out of his grip. His eyes flashed purple as he bent the crowbar as if it were a piece of tinfoil. The thug began shaking with fear, as Sleepwalker tossed the crowbar aside and knocked him out.
The last one had tried to hold onto the daughter, fear giving him strength as she struggled. He held his knife to her throat as Sleepwalker finished with the last of his buddies.
"Don't come any closer, freak," he warned.
Sleepwalker promptly responded by warping the knife so it became rubbery, slipping off the girl's throat like a toy.
"The hell-?" he said in confusion and loosening his grip, before the daughter recoiled, smashing her head into his and breaking his nose. The man howled in pain and fell back on the ground before the daughter jumped up skillfully, landing with her knees onto the thug's crotch. He howled in pain and rose up, only to have the daughter head-butt him again and knock him senseless. Her eyes narrowed at her assailant before Sleepwalker came up to her, untying her hands.
"That knife wasn't the only thing of his that was limp and floppy," she said calmly as she untied her feet, before helping Sleepwalker release the rest of her family.
"What do you mean by that?" Sleepwalker asked, before realizing what she was saying.
The girl merely raised an eyebrow at him.
The mother and daughter brought smelling salts and ice-packs for the father and son, calling the police as Sleepwalker kept an eye on the injured thugs, tying them up with their own rope. The police swiftly arrived and took the thugs into custody, letting Sleepwalker go after the family vouched for him.
"We've been looking for these guys for a while," one of the officers told Sleepwalker as he and another officer hauled away one of the unconscious thugs. "Too bad we didn't get Jeremy along with them-"
"Jeremy?" Sleepwalker asked.
"Jeremy Roscoe. Sort of the leader of these punks' gang," the officer informed him. "Got them connected to the organized crime in this city. He's worse than all his stooges put together-a real psycho."
"Why are you telling me this?" Sleepwalker asked as he left the house, following the officer.
"I just figured you costumed guys might need a bit of help, as payback for all the help you give us," the officer answered. "We have enough trouble keeping a lid on the crime in this city without super-powered nutcases like the Green Goblin or the Absorbing Man trying to tear it apart. I think you guys do a lot of good, whatever the Daily Bugle might say. Just thought that might be a tip about Roscoe-he's one to look out for-hell, I'd tell Spider-Man or Daredevil the same thing, if I came across them."
"I've got a lock on him," a young, auburn-haired man who had been scanning the police band using specialized equipment that the Department of Homeland Security had acquired for him. The man known as Wiretap was highly skilled in the use of surveillance equipment to track down potential targets. Clad in a blue uniform with gold shoulders and arms, he typed away eagerly.
"They say he is headed for Bryant Park," a slim, sharp-faced woman standing behind him noted. The arms of the uniform of the woman known as Cuffs seemed to be covered with hoses and tubing that connected a pair of devices mounted on her wrists with another device on her back.
"Then let's be there first," a tall, powerfully muscled black man said slowly. Nightstick was the leader of the Thought Police, a group of agents given a special mandate and equipment to subdue and capture anyone who might be required for capture and interrogation by Homeland Security, the FBI, or SHEILD. The "Thought Police" was not their official name, but Colonel O'Brien used it because he thought it matched quite well the group's mission.
Nightstick had always found it strange how the Colonel laughed sardonically when he said that.
Bryant Park was quiet this time of night, and so far Sleepwalker had not seen any other crimes of interest. He had, however, seen the strange superheroes known as Spider-Man and Moon Knight pass by tonight, although he had made no contact with them. He did not know what they would do if they encountered him…and he had little idea what to do if he encountered them, either.
He saw several groups of people gathered around, some drinking, others walking, some curled up on benches as they tried to shield themselves from the night breeze. He also saw the majestic architecture of the New York Public Library set against the New York skyline at night.
That was one of the strangest mysteries Sleepwalker had pondered since coming to the human world.
How can beings simultaneously be capable of such destruction, hatred and violence, and of constructing something so beautiful, or of producing such great works of art, or showing such kindness and compassion to one another?
The more he learned about the world of humans, the more Sleepwalker was confused.
Sleepwalker flew to a copse of trees and sat down for a moment to rest, taking care to conceal himself from anyone who might chance by. Fortunately, there were few people in that section of the park, save a trio that were passing down the sidewalk, and turning into the woods.
Sleepwalker stood bold upright and spun around, looking at the strange trio that were coming through the trees towards him. Wiretap had adjusted his cloaking device, changing them from appearing to be ordinary passers-by to projecting an illusion of the copse, completely concealing anything said or done within the radius of its effects.
Sleepwalker could sense changes in the air. He knew something was wrong.
"What…do you want?" he asked slowly, as the Thought Police resumed their true forms.
"We're from the Office of Interrogative Requisitioning," Nightstick answered coldly. "You're to surrender peacefully and come with us."
"For what reason?" Sleepwalker demanded.
"Our superiors want to talk to you," Nightstick said with icy calm. "That's all you need to know."
Sleepwalker considered the Thought Police for a moment. He didn't like the looks in any of their eyes. He looked back and forth to each of them; they all seemed tensed and ready to spring.
"I do not wish to surrender tonight," Sleepwalker said warily. He had a feeling that wherever they were taking him, it wouldn't be pleasant.
Nightstick merely charged at Sleepwalker, swinging heavy steel batons in either hand, as Cuffs and Wiretap fell into fighting stances. Sleepwalker ducked under Nightstick's initial swings, warping the greenery around him to entangle Nightstick. The big man was slowed down, but he simply tore up the warped bushes and bulled through Sleepwalker's barrier, pounding him once and twice with his batons, before hitting Sleepwalker a third time and sending him flying. The alien crashed heavily on the grass outside, as the Thought Police followed him out.
Sleepwalker was temporarily confused. There were people all around-couldn't any of them even notice the battle going on? Wiretap, now free of the trees, blasted Sleepwalker with several thousand volts of electricity, causing the alien to scream in pain.
Sleepwalker couldn't have known that Wiretap's cloaking device broadcast a powerful illusion over an area of several meters, masking the sights, sounds and even the sensations coming from the battle, and making it resemble deserted parkland. It was a handy tool for attacking people in public places while trying not to attract unnecessary attention.
A blast of warp energy deflected Wiretap's electric blasts, as Sleepwalker fired back. Their energies pressed against each other for a moment, before Sleepwalker was forced to dodge another assault from Nightstick. Sleepwalker ducked Nightstick's first swing and then leapt up, kneeing Nightstick in the face before seizing one of his batons and raising it for a strike.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, a powerful fist came and caught Sleepwalker in the face, sending him stumbling back and allowing Nightstick to recover. Cuffs had entered the fray, her equipment allowing her to generate a jelly-like ooze that she could control and shape according to her own desires. Sleepwalker blasted the gel and warped it himself, sending back flying over the temporarily shocked Cuffs, before Wiretap blasted him again. Nightstick immediately followed, lunging at Sleepwalker.
Sleepwalker took to the air, determined to meet Wiretap head-on. He warped away the next blast that Wiretap fired at him, flying in and kicking the young man in the stomach, before elbowing him in the back as he buckled over and sending him falling back to the ground. Sleepwalker flew back to the ground and warped the ground, sending a wave of earth flying at the Thought Police.
The Thought Police were more than ready. They had trained together as a well-oiled unit for months, learning to complement one another's abilities and tactics, two of them attacking a foe while the third distracted him. Cuffs caught Wiretap with her jelly, putting him down safely in front of them. Wiretap quickly grasped the hands of his colleagues, before generating a field of energy that blocked the dirt coming at them. Holding their hands, Wiretap led Cuffs and Nightstick through the earth, right into the path of Sleepwalker's warp vision.
Sleepwalker immediately stopped-the Sleepwalkers had vowed never to use their warp energy on living things, unless those things were demons of the Mindscape-but the energy that encased the Thought Police seemed to shield them completely. Wiretap suddenly broke off the energy shields as Nightstick charged at Sleepwalker yet again. Sleepwalker was ready at first, seizing Nightstick's batons and pulling them out of his grip before swinging them back at their owner, who leapt out of range.
Before Sleepwalker could react, Cuffs suddenly unleashed a wave of jelly, slamming into Sleepwalker and encasing his lower body. The alien tried warping his way out, but Cuffs simply opened a hole in the ooze for the energy to pass through, leaving it unaffected. She applied more pressure as Sleepwalker struggled to free himself, before Wiretap began generating a field of energy that coursed up the jelly and began electrocuting his victim. Sleepwalker screamed and gave up the struggle, his muscles becoming flaccid and limp.
Nightstick advanced and picked up his fallen batons. He picked them up and glared at Sleepwalker, before swinging them hard, knocking the alien unconscious.
The gouged earth and trees would reveal a horrible scene several hours later, but at that moment, Wiretap's cloaking effect made the whole area seem calm and peaceful.
Just the way the Thought Police liked it.
(Next Issue: Sleepwalker is defeated and brought back to the Thought Police's hideout beneath a bustling casino for interrogation. While he is being tortured, the criminal revolutionary Spectra returns, attacking the Thought Police to destroy them and Sleepwalker! All this and more in Sleepwalker #8: Color Blinded!)
