Simms kept his promise. A ride on the Green Line and a short walk later, he stood with Hunter on a grassy expanse overlooking the bay in Talos Island. He hadnt told Hunter where they were going, nor had he hinted at the story yet to come. With Hunter already angry at not being trusted by the Geezers, Simms had jokingly asked the doctor to "Just trust me."
He led Hunter to the top of a small hill, then stood silent for a few long minutes, his gaze searching the bay for
something. He bit his lip more than once, hoping the younger man wouldnt notice his attempt not to form tears in his eyes as his thoughts drifted back to "the story." A calm bay became storm tossed, the grassy park became a battleground, cries of seagulls and laughter of children became the sound of gunfire and screams of pain. And for just a while, a missing friend lived again. Simms began to speak.
" It was a skirmish with those half-***** Nazi Fifth Column. They had snake snuck into Talos in a sub, hoping to get in and out without anyone noticing they were press-ganging folks. I suspect it didnt dawn on them red and black bowlheads arriving in a sub might cause a bit of a stir. So, someone called the cops. That was real useful." Simms paused, chuckling to himself. He spit on the grass.
"Well, after the cops ran- cant blame them, they were normies. I woulda ran too- one of "our kind" thought to give us a call. We werent the Geezer Squad back then. No, back then we called ourselves The Vigil. A uppity name to mean that we were always watching. Always. Simms paused again. He bit his lip and didnt care if Hunter saw him. "So, we went after them. We were a pretty big group of folks. They called me Rockslide back then; Hothead and I were the oldest, so we led. We figured this would be an easy asskicking
we should have been more careful.
The blast knocked me *** over teakettle into the mud. I spit the dirt out, and turned to face the ******* that got a lucky shot on me. Not your brightest move, ya Nazi jackass; me and the mud, were old friends.' Im sure the rock forming around him hurt like hell, but the dipshit should have known better than to knock a mudslinger like me into the dirt and not expect bad things to happen. Hothead was taking it to another group of guys; he LOVED throwing that damn fireball. They would scatter, some would run off burning. We figured we had this one sewn up. But then, that big ******* Suggs saw something down on the beach.
Simms stopped speaking. He didnt bother to bite his lip this time, but instead waved a hand over the ground. As if from some hidden elevator, Simms stone golem emerged out of the grass, then stood next to the old farmer. Wordlessly, Simms embraced the golem and wept softly. He whispered words to the silent guardian, then stood up straight. And slapped the stone figure. The golem bent slightly toward Simms, who laughed softly. "Memories are a *****, old friend., he said to the golem, wiping at the track of his tears on the stone "face" He turned to Hunter. " I aint ashamed to cry, Mike. But if you blab this around, Ill slap you like I did
He paused, the smile leaving his face. "Mister Suggs here. Then Ill make ya a statue and let pigeons **** all over you. Understood ?
Hunter wanted to laugh, but didnt. He could see the pain in the old mans eyes as he relived the battle. He understood why the stone golem was a frequent companion to Simms. It didnt go away. It listened. It didnt die suddenly. Hunter nodded. "Yes, sir", he answered. Simms smiled. "Sir, is it ? Sounds like your mama raised you right. Maybe you can learn something from an old man after all.
Simms walked to the cliff edge. "It was down there, he pointed."A hatch on the sub had opened, and those fascist bucketheads offloaded their Plan B. It was a large robot
I think they called it a Wulfpack or some such. Suggs was closest to the edge, and he saw em doing it. Being young and about as bright as a burned out match at midnight, he figured hed pound the robot and keep it from getting up to us. He always was a helper. So, he took his barn-sized butt over the cliff- the fall wasnt gonna hurt him anyway- and started to whup on them.
"Suggs was a big boy. About seven foot, pale as a freshly washed lamb, but thick as a damn brick wall. Some people called him "Chalkie". That didnt last real long, Simms laughed."So, heres this big white goofball, pounding on a robot, the soldiers around it, anything he could reach. He figured he was saving us. But
there wasnt just one robot. By the time we realized he had gone down there, they had turned out six on him. It was too many, but he always was a stubborn kid, didnt want to give up. So, he fought em. They started to drag him into the bay
and he fought them. They went deeper
and he fought them. Finally, all of them went under. Nothing came back up.
Hothead and I ran down to the beach, screaming Suggs name the whole time. We couldnt get down there fast enough to stop the robots from getting him. We ran into the surf, hoping to grab his dumb butt out of the water. But he never came back up. Bullets and blasts zinged past us, and we never knew it. We just knew the kid was dead, and somehow we were to blame. Hothead didnt take it well. Our rallying cry was "FORM UP, VIGIL ! and he screamed it as loud as he could. Our teammates came pouring down the hillside. SUGGS IS GONE !, Hothead screamed at them, MAKE THESE BASTARDS PAY ! Simms paused, pointing to the sands below. "Lets go down there.
Simms stood at the surfs edge. "I honestly hope you never see a battle like what came next. There are extreme examples of every metas powers, acts that bring horrible devastation, things that rend metal
and flesh. He paused, turning to Hunter. And we used every goddamned one of them, Hunter. Every last thing we had in us. We all loved Suggs, he was a good kid who died keeping us from dying. And we took his death hard, and hit the Fifth Column even harder. Fire
explosions
energy
radiation
we gave it all to them. I pulled down a lightning storm, and while that worked, I spun a tornado inside their sub. Hothead screamed for us to get down, and threw an inferno down the hatch. The flames flared back, swallowing him, but he didnt flinch. I think it was sheer hate that kept the fire away from him. There were kids with claws
kids with swords
even a kid that sprouted bony spines. Anything that came out of the sub was theirs. Nothing made it past them. They looked like butchers on a bad drunk when they got done.
When it was done, we cried, Hunter. We sat on this beach and cried our eyes out. Salvation of this damn town, and we cried like babies pulled off a mamas tit. Most of us swore wed never do it again. A lot of the Vigil kept that promise. Theyre still here, in Paragon. But they dont have the stomach for it anymore, so they just blend into the woodwork. Theyre not cowards; a lot of em just lived a lifetime of terror and hate that day and didnt want no more. Somedays, I want very much to be one of them.
Simms faced Hunter again. "Paragon needs its heroes, Mike, but it damn sure has seen enough bloodshed. These metahuman kids are who they are, and we need to teach them not to be ashamed of it. But
they gotta know it comes with a price sometimes. And we need to try our damnedest to make sure they never have to pay it."
I wonder what I should name my new character over on triumph?
, I would love to support this, even if for only one mission/TF. I'm starting to "dig" my Stalker more, so I'm sure she'll have at least a few more levels before showtime 