The Shit-Town Saga:

Epilogue…

There was a time in the 90s when Arthur Hawkwood was a member of a team called The Street Force. The members were some of the more violent New York heroes of the time, and while it was short lived, it was often remembered, though not fondly. As the third Cavalier, Arthur was the de-facto leader of the team as well as the one to ultimately disband it. While he was known as a darker and grittier version of the ‘Shining Knights’ who came before, he could not abide the brutal methods employed by his teammates.

The final straw happened during a raid in a tent-city that some of the city’s mutants took refuge in; this was at a time that many of them were banding together in pockets across the city and it would be some time before the founding of the underground city known as Agartha. When the Cavalier and his team arrived at the tent-city to investigate, they were met with hostility.

A large mutant with four arms held a chainsaw, a machete and two uzis simultaneously as he launched himself into the air. A cloaked figure raised his hands and a black mist appeared that soon turned into shadowy snakes. As the mutant had a particular fear of snakes, he froze in terror. Soon, a katana swung down, severing the arm holding the machete. Simultaneously, a large canon shot off one of the hands holding an uzi. Finally, a figure in a gray bodysuit grabbed the mutant by the back of the neck and flipped him onto the asphalt before removing his remaining weapons. The mutant flailed about before rising to his feet and retreating. The team began to go after him but Arthur Hawkwood stood in their way, “Jesus, he’s had enough.”

The cloaked figure pointed to some of the tents set up nearby, “I sense fear in those tents.”

“No shit, they’re afraid of us,” Arthur barked.

“If they’re afraid, it means they got something to hide,” the muscular man with the large canon pulled the tent open violently.

“Don’t shoot!,” the woman inside pleaded.

Aside from the third eye, the mother seemed normal and the two children she had huddled in her arms likewise seemed normal with the exception of scaly flesh or extra appendages. The muscular man stood dumbfounded but never lowered his weapon.

“Put that thing away,” Arthur shoved the canon aside and addressed the mother, “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you. You got a place to stay tonight?”

“No.”

“Listen, there’s a guy called Raphael in the abandoned subway tunnels. He’s looking for people like you and your family. He’ll take you in.”

The mother thanked him and quickly went on her way; once there was enough distance, Arthur addressed his team for the final time, “I’ve had it with you absolute psychopaths,” he roared, “We were supposed to be taking down the mutant gangs, not scaring women and children. This is-this is beyond the pale. I’m tired of having to deal with you people every night,” with the team huddled close, he decided to air his grievances one by one, “I’m just gonna down the line here.” First, he faced the Asian woman who held two katanas in her hands, “Nodachi, I get it that you have a war against the Yakuza but these people aren’t Yakuza! Bullying them won’t bring your dad back!” Next, he pointed at the muscular man with metal coils running through his body that connected to the large canon on his back,“Blood-Gun, you’re a roided up nutcase. And don’t give me that ‘My old boss turned me into a killing machine’ bullshit again. That’s no excuse to be a dick. Also, your name’s stupid!” Then he turned to the figure in the tattered black cloak and hat who had a face that resembled a scarecrow, “Straw Jack… you’re just creepy as hell.” Finally, he came to the short man in the gray bodysuit and goggled mask. “Gatorback,” Arthur’s voice seemed to be slightly less angry when he addressed him, “You’re probably the most normal guy here. You’re a good dude and I know you’re trying to atone for the past but this isn’t the way to go about that. You can do much better than these guys.” He turned and walked away, “So that’s all I have to say. From now on, you guys can do what you want but I won’t be a part of it.” They would all agree to go their separate ways that night but Gatorback was the only one that regretted what had happened.

Danny Slade wanted to be a stuntman and an action star in the film industry but when his career didn’t have the trajectory he wanted, he turned to the Power Grid for a Neutronium upgrade: superhuman strength, speed, and agility. He thought the increased stats would give him an advantage but when he nearly crippled a stuntman while filming a movie, he was wracked by guilt. As atonement, he became a costumed crime fighter and soon joined Street Force. While the team didn’t last long, he felt a great deal of admiration for the Cavalier as he didn’t seem to have quite as many hang-ups as his other teammates.

Years later, he would learn the fourth Cavalier “left his post” during the Resurgence, betrayed Rex Robinson, and supposedly attacked police officers several days later. He was furious that this rookie brought shame to the title of the Cavalier and set out to find allies willing to rebuild the city properly. New York had been hit worse than any other city during the Resurgence. Buildings and lives were lost, the economy took a massive hit, homelessness and drug-addiction were on the rise, and people were hopeless enough to start calling it Shit Town. As far as Gatorback was concerned, the city needed a new class of heroes, preferably those interested in dealing with social issues as he felt the situation extended beyond fistfights with aliens. When he began recruiting, he started with his former teammates.

“Are you seriously trying to get the band back together?,” Jackie Kamiya, once known as Nodachi, sat behind her desk at her security firm. It had been years since she took revenge against the Yakuza and retired; now, she had silver streaks in her hair and no longer wore the permanent scowl Danny was more familiar with.

“No, the band’s not together so much as I thought you might be interested in helping our city get back on its feet,” Danny looked slightly older than he did in the 90s but his powers afforded him more youth than most people his age, “I know we haven’t spoken in a long time but I thought I should start by asking some of my old vigilante buddies.”

“I retired a long time ago, you know that. And honestly, the Cavalier was right when he said the whole ninja-thing wasn’t working. I wasn’t in the right mindset back then, always going out half-naked to fight bad guys. Remember that skimpy little thing I wore? I’m surprised I never had a wardrobe malfunction.”

“Me too,” then Danny added under his breath, “And a little disappointed.”

“What about Blood-Gun?,” Jackie suggested, “Last I heard, he was still doing mercenary work.”

“Oh, he passed away a while back,” Danny shrugged, “Medical issues.”

“Not surprised. The blood-powered gun thing never looked healthy,” she tapped the pen in her hand against the desk, “I’m guessing the Cavalier’s out of the question? The new guy?”

“Whoever he is, he’s a shit-show.”

“Ever met ‘im?”

“No and he better hope that never happens.”

“Well, if we’re still talking about our old team, I guess that just leaves Straw Jack.”

“Y’know, me and him kinda teamed-up during the Resurgence? He still creeps me out.”

“Worth a shot if you’re trying to bring Street Force back.”

“Street Force isn’t coming back,” Danny reminded her as he began to leave, “See ya around, Jackie.”

New Agartha part 1

The building was one of many scheduled for demolition as there was a risk of it collapsing. The inspectors came to determine the structural integrity of the former apartment complex, one of many scheduled for the day. They wore hard hats as they entered the debris-scattered lobby, making sure to step over the mortar from the collapsed ceiling. “The second floor seems to be mostly gone,” the head inspector stretched his neck to peak into the massive hole above their heads, “There’s a good chance the top floors are ready to go if they haven’t gone already. We’re gonna need someone to -”.

A large shadow fell over them, drawing everyone’s attention to the figure standing at the foot of the stairs. He had large spikes running up his arms and his enlarged bottom jaw contained a set of tusks jutting over his flattened face. “The top floors are just fine,” he growled, “Thanks for the assessment.”

The inspectors raced out the door to the utility trucks parked outside while Tusk, the self-appointed leader of the “pure-blooded” Agarthans, stood in the doorway and watched. The inspectors stopped a few feet from the door as they noticed someone standing in their way; in front of the trucks was a naked man who appeared to have been severely burned from head to toe, barely resembling a human at all but what was more disturbing was that he stood upright without trouble despite sustaining what should have been life-threatening injuries. The flesh on his face was charred and his lips were mostly gone so when he spoke, it sounded like gibberish to the inspectors. Despite the severe speech impediment, however, the inspectors got the gist of his statement by the hoarse laughter that followed. In Agartha, he was known as Hot Mess: a man who could generate flames but was not fully immune to his own powers, resulting in severe burns across his body.

Hot Mess turned toward the trucks and opened his palms to release horizontal pillars of flames. The trucks went up in massive fireballs and the sound was almost deafening. The force of the explosions pushed the inspectors to the small patch of unkempt grass outside the apartment building and as they lay on their backs, they noticed several figures in the windows above. The twisted and deformed faces of the Agarthans peered down from the windows, mocking and cackling. The burnt man smiled through massive scar tissue and missing flesh, unbothered by the flames that were engulfing what was left of the trucks. Tusk remained at the doorway of the building, his wide frame filling the space quite easily.

“You’re trespassing,” he barked, “This is the extent of our mercy. You or anyone else gets this close again, it’ll be a death sentence.” The inspectors shot to their feet and raced down the sidewalk, quickly clearing the demolition zone and as they fled the area, the Agarthans jeered and clapped enthusiastically. Hot Mess joined Tusk at the front entrance and sputtered something that would be incoherent to most people but since Tusk had spent a lot of time with him, he understood completely. “They’re dumb enough to do it,” Tusk responded, “And we’ll be ready when it happens.”

Elsewhere in the city, people with ventilation masks mixed chemicals in beakers along a broken conveyer belt. The abandoned buildings made it easier to find locations for drug production and the current state of New York created more clientele for the drug trade. The Hell’s Trespassers motorcycle club moved into Chinatown after Triad leaders had been assassinated by the Horseman and they knew there were certain risks with the relocation. Then again, everything in “Shit Town” brought risks.

The Cavalier burst through an overhead window, dropping down into a roll before launching a series of shield-discs into the bikers standing guard. The workers scrambled to the large garage door to flee while more bikers flooded the area to take down the interloper. The Cavalier shot to his feet to meet them; the first punch thrown resulted in metal gauntlets catching the arm before a knee was slammed into the biker’s chin. Cavalier leapt and spun into a hook kick that took out the biker trying to sneak up behind him. Then two more Trespassers came on either side. The knight ducked under a swinging chain and swept the legs from under the biker. While on the ground, he rolled back onto his shoulder to give a kick to the second attacker, then performed a kip up to bring himself back to his feet. The biker held his ribs with one hand and reached for a weapon in his jacket with his free hand. Before he could produce the gun, a roundhouse kick across his cheek halted any further aggression.

There was one biker still conscious, albeit in a weakened state and as he pulled himself up to his knees, he found the Cavalier’s sword across his shoulder which gave him pause. “This is Triad territory,” Cavalier’s voice came from beneath his dark helmet, “What are the Hell’s Trespassers doing here?”

“The Triads are busy looking for new leadership. Horseman took out the OGs,” the biker told him reluctantly, “They can’t do shit right now.”

“I get that, but your club disappeared from your old neighborhood. Now, all of a sudden, you set up shop over in this burrough. You didn’t expand. You moved. Why?”

“This is Shit-Town, man. Ain’t nothing what it was.”

“It’s more than that. Someone kicked you out and I wanna know who. Was it the Costa Tristens?”

“No, it was the freaks! Who do ya think?”

The Cavalier knew the biker meant the mutants of Agartha. There were rumors some of them had moved topside but outside of a few cryptic sightings in random buildings across the city, there was nothing concrete up until that point. With the current state of the city, everything was indeed changing and if Agarthans were taking over sections of the city, it could only make things worse. Tensions between Agartha and New York authorities were bad enough that it wouldn’t take much for a full-blown war to occur and he was one of the few people who could potentially bring peace. He decided to visit the Trespasser’s old territory to see if the rumors were true.

In the meantime, he chained the final biker to the broken conveyor belt and sent the address to Commissioner Reins via burner phone. As he was still wanted by the authorities, the two men were not allowed to have open communication as they once had. Randomly texted addresses from temporary phone numbers had to suffice.

When the Cavalier ventured to the Trespasser’s former neighborhood, he took his grappling hook gun along with him. He was familiar with the area so navigating the rooftops without being seen was easy enough. Once he came to the old garage that once belonged to the biker club, he crept along the roof and used the grappling line to lower himself through a sky light. The garage was spacious and once housed muscle cars and motorcycles but it was now empty with a queen-sized mattress on the floor along with some furniture, cooking utensils, and other items. It was clear someone was living there but he had to make sure they were Agarthans and not simply homeless people looking for shelter. The main garage was connected to a hallway that led to a reception area and offices so that’s where he began his search. He didn’t make it far before he was hit from behind and thrown back into the garage area. Whoever attacked him was incredibly strong and when he rolled onto his back, he saw two familiar figures exiting the hall.

The humanoid salamander-like Agarthan was called Hellbender. As he climbed along the surface of the wall, he was joined by a large, muscular women whose wrinkled flesh and gray hair gave her the appearance of being far older than she was. Grandma Punch cracked her knuckles, “Don’t you know how to knock?”

“Just welcoming you to the neighborhood,” Cavalier stood to his feet and readied himself, “Considering I helped you two patch things up when you had your little lover’s spat, I think we can talk this over.”

“We got a new place to stay and that’s all there is to it,” Hellbender somersaulted off the wall and landed in front of the Cavalier, “There’s lots of buildings no one’s using ‘cause they got blown up by the aliens. We didn’t do nothing wrong.”

“You took this one from the Hell’s Trespassers.”

“They were assholes!,” Grandma Punch snapped.

“We can just go down the block to some other place no one’s in,” Hellbender negotiated, “What difference does it make?”

“Look, I’m not concerned about the squatting. I got worse things to worry about, but we all know they won’t let you stay here. From what I’ve heard, there might be a few other places your friends are staying at too. I just wanna make sure there won’t be any more conflicts.”

Hellbender’s stubby snout spread into a grin and he shook his head, “Tusk was right, Punchy. This clown just ain’t gonna let it go.”

Cavalier was familiar with the name. Tusk was one of the more disenfranchised Agarthans. When he first went to their city, Tusk attacked him and their leader, Raphael. On that day, he learned that some of the citizens of Agartha were less enthusiastic about the alliance between the surface and the underground. If they were following Tusk’s orders, then the situation was as dire as he feared.

“So Tusk is moving you guys out of the tunnels?,” Cavalier asked, “What does Raphael have to say about this?”

“It’s funny you ask,” Hellbender’s tone was sarcastic and annoyed, “See, I talked to him about it the other day and he said…”

Hellbender spun in a 360 degree twirl, his long tail slamming against a black chest plate and sending Cavalier sliding along the concrete floor. “Kick his ass, Bendy!,” Grandma Punch shouted as her lover shot up to the ceiling for a moment before diving into a leg-drop. Knowing the Agarthan had regenerative abilities, Cavalier raised the grappling hook gun and fired. The harpoon shot through Hellbender’s chest and pushed him across the room where he was impaled on the wall. “Ow, what the shit?,” Hellbender attempted to remove himself from the spike while pinned but it only caused more discomfort. Cavalier disconnected the chord and stood to his feet, only to have a wrinkly fist launch him into the air. Grandma Punch’s attack sent him across the room and through a garage window. “Dick!,” she snarled before turning to assist Hellbender.

Cavalier landed outside and thought his enemies would pursue but when he peered through the shattered window, he saw Grandma Punch trying to free Hellbender from his current predicament. “Agh!,” he groaned as she began to pull the projectile out of his chest, “Godammit, Punchy!” She brushed him off as she continued to free him, “Stop moving”. “I’m not,” he responded angrily. With the two distracted, the Cavalier decided it was best to leave as he got the information he came for. Tusk was sending his followers into abandoned buildings in New York, likely in an attempt to set up a new community. It wouldn’t bother him except he knew it would lead to conflict and Tusk was not the forgiving type. He knew he needed to go to Agartha and speak to Raphael as quickly as possible.

At the police precinct, Commissioner Reins received word regarding Tusk and his followers chasing off building inspectors and destroying their trucks. “The Agarthans aren’t hiding,” he thought to himself, “They’re openly daring us to do something.” Getting permission from the mayor to send a SWAT team to the previously-abandoned tenement building was easy enough, but he knew it would take much more than that to bring the situation to an end, peaceful or otherwise. He closed and locked the door to his office and produced a burner phone before sending a quick message along with an address to the Cavalier. Then he hoped for the best.

Continued…