Almost Infamous: A Supervillain Novel Read Online Free Page B

counter before I was jerked off my feet and slammed to the floor on my back.
Pro-tip, kids: If you’re going to dramatically toss your cape over your shoulder, make sure you’re not tossing it onto the metal spokes of a magazine rack that’s bolted to the floor.
    I got back to my feet and was about to free my cape from the magazine rack when the first liquor bottle shattered against my helmet.
    I couldn’t see where it came from, not with the damn helmet cutting off my peripheral vision, and probably looked like an idiot darting my head from left to right.
    I expected it was the mop guy, probably trying to play superhero.
    Instead I saw the clerk behind the counter. She had undone her massive ponytail, which now writhed around like a mass of gnarled pythons, grabbing liquor bottles and hurling them at me.
    She’s super, too. Shit!
    Bottle after bottle smashed around me before one shattered against my helmet, then another in the chest.
    “Get the hell out of here!” she shrieked. “Jimmy, get my gun!”
    I didn’t see Jimmy run for the gun, and I didn’t want to. I ripped a large portion of my cape away, finally freeing myself from the magazine rack. I waved a hand at the rack of liquor bottles behind her, shattering them all and taking away her ammo.
    Instead of throwing bottles, now she started throwing the larger shards of glass my way. One of them bit into the left arm of my jacket and I screamed in pain as I felt it slice at my elbow.
    No, this wasn’t working out at all.
    I couldn’t get to the register without this crazy bitch slicing me to ribbons. Now if I could only get it to come to me…
    I hadn’t made any attempts at grabbing objects when testing my powers, but there was a first time for everything.
    I reached out, again focusing on the register. It rattled, and even crushed inward some, but didn’t move from the counter. The plastic jar that sat next to it, however, flew right toward me. It was full of odd bits of change and crunched up dollar bills, with a sticker on it saying that all donations would go to the Lemurian Civil War Orphans Fund. There had to be at least seventeen dollars inside.
    Jar in hand, I ran for the door, trying to push my way out, but it wouldn’t budge.
    I placed my hand against it, focusing on the glass and metal frame, and exploding it outward into the street.
    With one last thought, I turned back to the clerk and raised my helmet’s visor. “Remember to tell people that Apex Strike did this!”
    She shrieked, “You crazy motherf—!”
    I ran away, smiling and scared out of my mind with the hope that I could get out of there before Jimmy found that gun.
    As I headed for my bike, I turned to the sound of a car horn blaring. Not taking traffic into consideration, I stopped in my tracks as the truck bore down on me, slamming on its brakes.
    Before I could think, I put my hand out in a desperate attempt to stop the truck that was now inches away.
    I didn’t stop it.
    I did, however, rip it in half down the middle. Each half rolled around me, falling on its sides in twin twisted heaps.
    Everything went silent. People on the street mostly stopped and stared, though some had the presence of mind to pull out their phones to take pictures or call for help.
    I should have tried to make my escape, but I couldn’t help myself. With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I raised the visor and yelled, “Remember, today you saw the birth of Apex Strike! A-P-E-X, STRIKE! When posting about me, remember to hashtag it, or I will destroy you!”
    I smiled, dropping my visor back down and feeling pretty damn proud of myself.
    Then I saw the money.
    Dollar bills of all denominations rained down around me and coins jangled as they rolled down the street at my feet. For the first time, I got a good look at the truck I’d torn in two.
    It wasn’t a truck, it was an armored van.
    “Sweet!” I exclaimed, cramming handfuls of cash into the orphan jar. I must have grabbed a couple thousand