#136: Coup Détente

Mr. Megaton, Kozmik Kat, and I—followed by the chopper with Gene, Stella, and Avie—returned from Liberty Island to the Doomsday Factory. As we approached the roof, I noticed a caravan of headlights sweeping down the promontory’s gravel path; they were white vans from an ICHHL front company dubbed Incarcertory Consultants for Hardened, Lawbreaking Louts. They were whisking off Rose Shark and the Megatown Mobsters, presumably to the Civilian Reality’s version of the Criminality Clinic which, for all I knew, may have also been called the Criminality Clinic, too.

#135: Night Flight

“Hey, wait a minute!” Kozmik Kat protested, his paws flailing about, as he tried to wriggle free from my grasp. “My powers are no good in a fight scene, Ms. Megaton.” But it was too late; we were already far out over water and ascending rapidly in the frigid night air.

#130: Slaughter on Tenth Avenue

“I’ve heard of political assassinations,” I said. “But a politician having a private citizen whacked—that’s crazy. You really think Bad Guy will try to have me rubbed out?”
        “Bart Gamble predicated his presidential campaign on Ms. Megaton as a menace to society,” said Glenn. “He’s already framed you as Public Enemy Number One, Clarissa, and he’s determined to get you out of the way long before he’s sworn in come January.”

#127: Return to Doomsday

Sunrise beat us to Bayonne, New Jersey the following morning, but only slightly. It was already daylight as Gene drove the white van up a gravelly path up Constable Hook, the promontory Avie and I had visited once before back in our reality. That time, we approached by air and from the east, in the flying Q-Mobile piloted by old boyfriend, Bing Gloom, also known as Yarn Man. This time, of course, we were climbing up the hill from the west. The sun seemed to rise anew as we reached the crest of the hill, casting the hulking old building in stark silhouette.
        “The Doomsday Factory,” I said.

#126: Docs and Cats

“I have a vehicle waiting outside,” said Grandma Seedy in a commanding voice to me. “There isn’t a moment to lose, Clarissa.”
        It crossed my mind that elements within the government might be using my grandmother as a ploy to kidnap me, but that seemed unlikely—and just plain paranoid. And yet, how could I be sure who was friend or foe in this alternate, Civilian Reality?

#111: I Was a Graduate-School Sex Addict!

“Where were you all night?” asked Avie, as I bounded into the kitchen. She was already cooking scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast. “Want some? You hungry?”
        “No thanks,” I said. “I just gave Gene a knob-job.”
        “Ew, please! Not before I’ve eaten!” said Avie, making a sour expression and grabbing her midsection while still stirring the eggs. “Not on an empty stomach.”

#110: The Criminality Clinic

The van raced down empty Second Avenue under a succession of street lamps illuminating nothing at this hour. We came to Cass Park at the foot of the avenue and made a sharp left in front of Masonic Temple. Turning right down Cass, we crossed the Fisher Freeway toward Downtown.
        “You’re actually going to try to take extralegally procured prisoners across the border to Canada?” I asked. “I’d like to see how you’ll manage that.”

#85: Who Watches the Watchmen?

I’d been haranguing Avie for twenty minutes with my theory about the Multimensions, and my suspicions concerning Reverend Enoch, while she went through her workout in the basement of our apartment.