Chapter 11: Almost Makes You Cry
A cacophony temporarily consumes Julia Carpenter.
An instant ago, crashing rains contacted fickle cargo upon AIM's barge base. Below decks, mad MODOK condemned two Avengers and his AIM crew to certain destruction. Desperate Spider-Woman shot a strand through the ship's exploded ceiling, and the webbing grabbed the gunnel outside. Julia had already snagged friend John Walker. The line acted like a bungee cord—catapulting the couple—when the craft went kablooey.
The walloping concussion was so wicked that it rapped U.S. Agent from Arachne's wrapped arm. The explosion knocked her high into the thunderous sky. Cumulonimbus clouds cast coruscating lightning current into the unbridled chemical combustion below. The duo deafening dins clashed and complemented creating an incomparable auditory chaos countrywide.
Dazed, dizzy Carpenter dropped back down. She careened directly toward the calamitous conflagration on the Mississippi's caliginous expanse. Thunder crackled and clapped all around her.
Suddenly, the blazing barge exploded a second time. The air quivered. Carbon steel sprayed in a dicey quarter-kilometer cone. Carpenter conjectured correctly that Chemistro and AIM crew had curious contraband cached within the boat. Ever cool-headed, the Avenger curved this way and that way to avoid being cut. She circumvented the shrapnel.
Cacophonous noise conquers all quarters. Keeping her wits, Spider-Woman spins a parachute that catches the whipping westerly winds carrying all eastward. She wends a course for a well-lit locale on the Mississippi's Illinois bank. Crashing waves conduct her to the clanging cables lining a broad concrete dock. Calescent lightning illuminates concerned, curious soldiers investigating the unnatural explosions on the river. The army men can tell that those blasts ain't thunder. Each has an ear for it.
Arachne alights ashore amidst an Army Corps of Engineers outpost at Alton, Illinois. She immediately explains, "Hi, you had AIM terrorists operating just outside your front door, believe it or not. That blown barge over there was their mobile base."
"No s***?" says a surprised sergeant. Black smoke billows past the bewildered man.
Beside him, a cognizant corporal inquires, "Do we have any survivors to save?" The tempest tosses tall waves inland like tide.
A perceptive private purposefully points, "What about that singed skinny-dipper over there? Is that bare-assed guy an unfortunate AIM agent?"
Spider-Woman and the soldiers survey the turbulent Mississippi. They anon espy Chemistro, sans costume. The explosion must have obliterated his apparel. Upon the bucking waves, buff Carr floats face-down and flaccid. Carpenter considers whether Chemistro might be dead or not, for she might or might not risk rescuing a carcass. The roaring rain patters upon the poor duck.
Suddenly, U.S. Agent surfaces beside the bad guy. Walker robustly waves to the bank. Then, he checks unconscious Carr for breath. With one arm treading rough water, the Captain squeezes the rogue with the other. Dirty drink disgorges from Chemistro's mouth, and he weakly gasps for air. Immediately, vigorous, strong U.S. Agent spurts the two for shore. Spider-Woman tosses him a line taken from the aiding engineers. Hand-over-hand, she hauls the hero and wretch to safety.
"Thanks, sweetie," Walker whacks Carpenter on the back. He salutes the soldiers and smiles satisfied after showing all present "how it's done".
"Sorry for dropping you," Spider-Woman says, "Did you see anyone else down there in the depths? For example, did you meet Grey Gargoyle or MODOK, dead or alive? Preferably perished."
U.S. Agent shakes his head, "Nah, a person can't see s*** in the Mississippi during a storm. They were nowhere in sight."
Spider-Woman shrugs, "May they both have sunk to the muddy bottom."
U.S. Agent acknowledges, "MODOK sits in a steel seat, and Gargoyle is sometimes stone. So, you might have gotten your wish."
Just then, bloody beekeeper bits and bloating bodies race past on the rolling river. The sight bugs Spider-Woman a bit. MODOK slaughtered his staff.
On shore, station security carries semi-conscious Carr toward the brig, and tornado sirens begin to keen across the Alton area. With recent weather, the tornadic activity is not a surprise. Hustling, army personnel seek shelter, and they solicit the Avengers to do the same. Battle-sore, Spider-Woman slinks after everyone toward the base's buildings. To show-off for the soldiers, super-soldier John sprints swiftly past them. After Johnny, Julia limps to a cement tunnel. There, an officer offers her a towel and a cola. After drying a few dabs, the heroine says "Hey, captain" and tosses the towel to her attendant. She chugs the soda. She considers the mean green gone to St. Louis.
She inquires of the staff around her, "Do you know where the other Avengers are?"
"Actually, I do. One is on the phone," comes a surprise answer, "A Ms. Tigra in Elsah would like to talk to you."
Arachne acts nonchalant, "Well, I am not totally surprised. I do sometimes get catcalls." Within, Julia compliments herself on navigating the unexpected well. She takes the receiver.
From Elsah, Tigra updates Julia about events on her harried end. From Alton, Spider-Woman informs Greer of the activities of U.S. Agent and Julia. And then, curious Carpenter inquires how Nelson knew where to call currently. How did Elsah know to call Alton? The clever Cat simply claims that she is a strong sleuth and conjectured where her colleagues would end up after invading AIM's barge. Also (Tigra admits), the Elsah sheriff and the head Alton sergeant have communicated during the storm, so each "common man" connected the Mighty Avengers with one another.
Arachne chuckles, "God bless everyday heroes."
"Amen," avers Tigra, "Now, how do we help those everyday heroes? Local news reports battling super-beings in St. Louis. How do we get from western Illinois to there?"
"Do we still have a Quinjet parked in West Alton's Confluence Point Park?" American Eagle asks over Tigra's shoulder.
"We do," Julia affirms.
"Could it pick-up two compadres in Elsah, Illinois?" a werewoman wonders.
"It could" Carpenter confirms, "Then, it could soar south through a gale to another upheaval." Aptly, emergency sirens sound in the background.
Substantial miles south, Speed is face-down in a gushing gutter flowing toward a large storm sewer grate. The great grate even has an adequate aperture to dump a slim speedster into the subterranean spillway under a street. Cascading current carries an unconscious kid toward the chasm beneath Cherokee Street. Zzzax zapped Speed but good.
The green-garbed lad gurgles as he goes lugubriously to his fate. But, from nowhere, some strong green-haired guy grabs his girdle and hoists the helpless hero from the gutter. A friendly glove kindly wipes the grit from Tommy's goggles and the goo from his shirt. Doc Samson shakes Shepherd slightly to perhaps stir him. However, the Young Avenger remains insensible. The psychiatrist sets Tommy gently on the drenched sidewalk.
From the side, an old Avenger states, "Well, Wanda's son looks a bit beaten and bedraggled." Giant-Man, at six-foot size, gazes concerned.
Physician Samson assesses patient Shepherd. He checks the pulse. He pinches for pain reaction. He borrows a pen light from Pym and examines the teen's pupils.
"What do you see?" Pym asks. The rain pours. Reaching into his sidebag, Giant-Man produces an umbrella and greatly expands it—a little late. All three supermen are already sopping.
"I suppose that Zzzax got him. Wasp warned that the Living Dynamo was here," Samson scratches his chin, "The creature did his mind-zap which is a mind-sap that leaves victims catatonic. I have seen Zzzax's work before back in New Mexico. Aptly, the amped adversary abducted 'Thunderbolt' Ross' mind [see Incredible Hulk #326]."
"And, where do you suppose Zzzax is now?" Hank hawks into the streaming street slop.
To the east, massive fulguration illuminates the early evening like the dawn.
"I suppose there," Leonard points.
Forthwith, a big explosion occurs. Fire jets sky-high, and ordnance booms over the vicinity. Ship shrapnel shoots throughout the Marine Villa neighborhood shattering windows, severing powerlines, and spearing cement facades. An iron boat aft arcs through the ebony sky and approaches the heroic trio. Samson one-hand grabs the assailing quarter-ton and examines the escutcheon.
"It is from a Coast Guard cutter," the Doc states.
"Yeah, they and the Army Corps of Engineers operate right over there," Pym's pointer indicates the east, "We should assist them."
Audible automatic weapons fire impotently upon the elemental. An enormous, iridescent Zzzax streaks into the skyline and unleashes devilish direct current upon the unfortunates below. He bellows with unmitigated ire, and his ululation echoes throughout the entire area.
Stoically, Leonard acknowledges, "Incorporeal opponents are always tough, but we heroes had better engage ASAP."
Suddenly, emergency air sirens accompany Zzzax's wild shrieks, and the wind howls a bit more than it already has been. Hank looks at his wrist computer and frowns. "Incorporeal opponents are tough indeed. We actually have a damn cyclone headed our way, headed for St. Louis. We might get to wrestle the wind itself as well as Zzzax."
"When it rains it pours," Doc Samson sighs.
Suddenly, ambulance sirens accompany the air sirens and Zzzax's vociferations. A rescue wagon wheels through the waters covering Cherokee Street. EMS personnel pull-up. As lightning and Zzzax zaps flash, the driver divulges, "Dispatch said that there was a super battle going down hereabout. We'll take care of your buddy. Howabout you take care of the bad guy." A latex link points to the dazzling daemon.
"Will do. Thank you," Giant-Man grows fleetly twenty-seven feet. He strides boldly toward brouhaha.
Doc Samson wrings his wet locks. "I am a physician," he informs the pair of paramedics, "Keep Speed, your charge, stable. He has received a cerebral shock that I can help repair later after opposing yon angry titan."
"TTFN then," a terse tech tips her hat.
On the horizon, thirty-three-foot Pym hurdles elevated I-55 and heads for towering Zzzax. Behind Hank, Leonard leaps seven stories high and hurtles past his partner. Humbly, the soaring strongman shakes his head. Here, he is in St. Louis to head-shrink Hulk as he routinely does, but he is helping Giant-Man charge the Living Dynamo instead. With purpose, the intrepid powerhouse lands at Zzzax's feet and immediately groundstrikes the earth—unbalancing the creature onto his ass.
Elsewhere, over at Busch Stadium, Wasp fights Hulk alone. The little lady hovers in the inclement air over the Hulk's head. Over her, soaking rain falls. It undoes the pixie's dainty 'do and inundates her cute costume. Jan shivers in the storm, but it is not the relentless rain that rattles her nerves and bones most. Rather, Wasp beholds the belligerent behemoth before her, and she feels chills even after all of these years around Banner. Hulk makes Wasp feel small. The veteran heroine can encounter gods and monsters all she wants over the decades. None of them quite equal the personification of a gamma bomb before you stomping across the shaking earth, roaring above the thunder, waving enormous limbs as though all were his domain.
Wasp apprehensively descends to her unstable old acquaintance. She prays that she does not startle him. At his shoulder, her wings bombinate quietly near his ear. Wasp whispers "Hulk" gently. The giant jerks his gaze around to glare. His surly snort shoots her back.
The Green Goliath growls, "Does puny girl come to attack Hulk? I could gulp her down for grub!"
Jan van Dyne grows to her full size and sucks in some air. Wasp wants to assuage Hulk's rage. And, she might achieve that by suppressing her powers to make her look vulnerable and non-threatening. She does not appear to be a Wondrous Wasp but rather a regular gal and familiar pal.
Plus, 5' 4" Jan figures that her larger self is less likely to fit Hulk's gullet than her smaller self. She would prefer avoid a gruesome, ghoulish fate greasing Greenskin's guts.
"I admit to being outmatched. You have the power, big guy," the proud woman slicks back her sopping hair. Within, Wasp hopes that the right words give her the power to calm her colossal colleague and quickly have him under her control.
Hulk grunts and grins ogling Jan. He studies her like a great, skittish beast assessing her trustworthiness. The Incredible one inquires, "What does girl want?"
"To be friends like we always are," the Winsome one replies. Van Dyne winks and smirks slyly.
The brute unceremoniously clamps a huge hand over the schmoozer's shoulder and briskly brings her to his stern stare.
"Wasp," the giant pronounces.
"Yes," the dangling dame hangs in there. She anticipates possible amity.
"Bah!" Hulk blurts brusquely, "You hurt Hulk as often as you buddy with him,"
The Green Goliath forcefully flings the wee woman like a Frisbee through the falling rain. Wasp cannot correct her flight. Fifty-five feet away, she flops and flips through the right field mud. At the foul line, she stops, and she raises her face from the filth. Both furious and fearful, van Dyne ejects fetid foam from her mouth into a broad frothy puddle beneath the flickering lightning light.
Far away, Hulk roars echoically throughout Busch Stadium. The monster fixes a maleficent (male) gaze upon the madam in the mud. Bugged, Jan worries that Bruce might bounce to her and then literally take her to first base—or wherever. She can't have that. She swiftly shrinks to superpowered size.
But, the menacing brute surprises her with a different gift instead. He throws the entire pitcher's mound. Enveloping the four-inch idol, it buries Wasp beneath about three hundredweight of dirt. Damnably, she doesn't deftly dodge the hefty dollop.
Fists raised, Hulk squalls to the tempest overhead. In savage frenzy, he kicks about the field sending soil explosively upward. In catharsis, he sends saturated, soggy turf seventy-feet into the surrounding stands. In vicious victory, he bellows at the burial mound in right field. There, regrown Jan raises a mass of muck with all of her strength. The rampaging wight roars again in terrible fury. In a tantrum, Hulk tromps forth to maybe rip Wasp in twain.
But, a roar and a rumble answer Hulk from overhead. And, they do not originate from the passing storm. Rather, a Quinjet arrives above Busch Stadium. Hulk balks a tick before bounding to the bullpen where a golf cart is parked. Childishly, he chucks that aluminum and steel all the way up to the Avengers' craft. It impotently impacts Tony Stark's well-designed plane without hurting anything. Teeth grinding, legs bent, Hulk prepares to powerfully propel himself at the hovering, harassing hazard hassling him.
But, before Hulk does, a hatch opens, and a shrieking American Eagle comes flying intent on attack.
Elsewhere nearby, Doc Samson hurls heaps of sand over huge Zzzax. In each hand, Samson holds a truck hopper of dirt that he hopes might stifle the Living Dynamo. Dirt is dielectric. It insulates. A dielectric could kill Zzzax's current rampage.
But, the tossed non-conductor only totally ticks-off the towering terror. In a flash, two fulgent fingers fire twin bolts that melt the steel containers to slag. Then, arm elongating, the titan punches Doc Samson rearward a furlong, bopping him through brick buildings bordering the battle.
Undeterred, Giant-Man blitzes Zzzax from behind—with a burgeoning blanket. Ever brainy, Dr. Pym has thought to carry with him an insulating tarp—for trapping threats from Electro to the Eel. Pym particles have enlarged the "stuff" out of the sheet so that it may contain Zzzax. The massive mantle wraps the mammoth monstrosity soundly, and the Living Dynamo wails and flails in protest. Grinning, Giant-Man cinches the titan sharply at the shoulders. He cries "Gotcha! Give it up!" to the sizable specter in the sheet. Perhaps, this dielectric will make Zzzax give up the ghost.
But, spirited Zzzax stabs his exposed feet into the ground, and his foundation expands throughout the underlying earth. The Living Dynamo unreservedly shocks the rain-saturated soil, and a galvanic glow permeats the ground. The juice should jolt the assailing Avenger.
However, unshaken Pym brags, "My boots protect me from electrocution. Practice better execution."
Emulating Eve (Necker), the eidolon utters, "Ach, I shall. I've found a gasline"
Perplexed Pym loosens his grip, "Really? There shouldn't be one there. That's bad engineering."
"Sucker," says the sizzling scoundrel.
Pods firmly planted, Zzzax jerks joshed Giant-Man in a judo flip. Tall tons crash atop uneven Coast Guard junk and unforgiving ground.
Zzzax out-grapples the tremendous tarp too. He balls it in one hand and aims the other at military ordnance. In a Gaelic brogue, Necker-Zzzax needles, "Oh, ken da. We can have a fiery explosion after all."
A broad brilliant bolt blasts some of the artillery arsenal of Arsenal Street. Warning plaques deter the mayhem-maker not a bit. Protector Pym steps his super-sized form between some station personnel and peril. He shields several coastguardsmen. But, Zzzax's big bad intentions actualize anyway. Instantly, fire and force assault the Avenger, barrage America's best, obliterate equipment, incinerate structures, set boats ablaze, and raze the local region. Violent chaos consumes all before anyone can possibly react.
Relishing his ruinous work, Zzzax twirls and tosses the tarp onto a zonal inferno in disdain. From ground zero, Zzzax zips upward to a zenith over the Mississippi River. Zestfully, the titan emulates Zeus and ejaculatorily energizes the air from the overhanging thunderclouds to the top troposphere. Zzzax emblazons the heavens with lightning.
With a lightning bolt on his torn T-shirt, Doc Samson bounds the flickering firmament to the fiery dock and Doc Pym. "Hank, get smaller please," Leonard requests reduction.
Hank complies. But, he queries, "Why?"
Samson replies, "Because, we are leaving this sordid scene to St. Louis emergency services and the stifling storm rains." Unceremoniously, the strongman seizes the physicist. And, they bound from the widespread blaze.
They alight upon a building's rooftop at the city's preeminent brewery, arranged over ample acres. Pym surveys the flash-flooding facilities, "So, are we going to drown our troubles? What is the plan here?"
Samson is blunt, "We are here to rethink our approach—lest we get our asses continually kicked."
"Let's not linger too long," Pym points to the stellar luminosity lighting Missouri from the Mississippi to the city's center. Zzzax illuminates a zip code.
"Very well. Let us expeditiously do some analysis amidst the zymolysis, some cerebration near the fermentation. Let us improve our attack plan," Doc makes clear.
"Maybe you need to," Hank muses, "I am a superb physical scientist. So, I shall solve the Zzzax puzzle soon enough. However, you are a social scientist, so you may need psychoanalyze the Living Dynamo—while St. Louis burns."
"Don't be a prig, Pym."
"Don't be a lump, Leonard."
Samson shakes his chin. Then, he scratches stubble, "Typically, Zzzax absorbs a zany mix of minds into his own. How many do we know that he has presently?"
Pym nods and sighs, "Well, Zzzax has his Zen plus Tommy Shepherd plus even Eve Necker, who I encountered. Theoretically, he could contain. . . . ."
BOOM! THOOM! FOOM! Vicinal explosions interrupt an Avenger. Aloft Zzzax zaps targets far and wide. KA-BOOOSH! Cargo combusts across several Mississippi barges. KRRAAKAKK! Concentrated current cracks the landmark MacArthur Bridge. PZZTT! BLAM! KA-BOOOOM! R-R-RUMBLE! A blazing, blitzing bolt blasts an East St. Louis chemical plant—erupting an Illinoisan immolation. Then, like a sore Thor, Zzax zealously zings sizzling streams of scintillating destruction throughout St. Louis to his sinister side (i.e. the left). CRASH, SMASH, CRASH! Skyscraper glass shatters zippily into a zillion pieces. ZOOT! South Pond at the Arch evaporates in a split second. KAZART! Kosciusko Industrial Park explodes from its southernmost storage units to its northernmost machine shops.
"Zounds! Such sounds!" shouts Samson.
"Chaos abounds when mad science visits towns," Pym "insanely" steps off the roof. In a jiffy, Giant-Man is big. Samson sets himself on a sizable shoulder.
"Things always get more complicated," Hank restates.
"Isn't that true," Leonard allows.
Suddenly, Pym's wrist widget rings. An emergency broadcast alerts all of an imminent cyclone. The immense scientist scans the skies and his computer accessory. He sees a funnel cloud fortuitously arriving in about four minutes. The old-hand Avenger states, "I have a plan for annihilating Zzzax. But, we need to pull him into an incoming tornado."
"Well, that sucks," Samson says, "Good thing that we're superheroes."
"Can you be a decoy?" Hank dares ask.
"I can do better than that. I can be the Dynamo's doctor—deviously deceiving him to his doom. Due to our deliberation, I have a scheme to dupe him," the psychiatrist states.
"Ducky," Pym comments.
"But, how do I reach my patient?" Samson points out, "He hovers perhaps too high for you to reach without strain."
"Another Avenger plans to be here pronto," Giant-Man explains, "She radios my headset that she hastens to help. Hopefully, she arrives soon. The twister arrives really soon too."