Issue #22: "Survivor"
The following is a pure work of fiction. None of the following events ever occurred, either in the history of the world or the history of the author. Any similarity to real life persons or events is purely coincidental. Enjoy!
Shortly after the funeral of Franklin Burke, the team assembled at their offices to help Jill Burke clean her desk for her sabbatical. After all of Jill's things were placed into her mother's car, she came back into the office to say goodbye to the team she had assembled over the past two years.

As they sat at their desks, some separate (Cutup, Paragon, and C.aT. at their own spaces), some together (Sonic Boom and Ramm sat at his desk), Jill came around to everyone in the office, to give a personal message to each.

She came to Laura Ells with this message: "I didn't work with you for long, but I will miss your resourcefulness. You will make a fine detective, Laura. I'm sure of it."

She came to Meredith Burke and Jack Porter with this message: "You two deserve each other. When I return, I won't be too surprised to see a diamond on that finger, Jack. Keep the faith, both here and in your relationship, and you'll go far."

She came to Shelley Marcust with this message: "You have been an asset to us all, both helping us with the cadets and giving us an extra dimension. If only you would take things more seriously, you would be a captain by now."

And finally, she gave this message to Jasmine Chin: "I know you can never forget your pain and anguish. I would never want you to. Rather, use that experience to help you. They're your team now. Make me proud."

The entire team tightly embraced Jill before she left the office, perhaps for the last time.

ONE MONTH LATER ...

Slithering home after a long day at the 7th Precinct, Paragon looks up at the sky, watching the moon just crest. Smiling, she slides into a small grocery store, where she's quite well known, especially to the owner, who's an old friend.

"Shelley, my girl, how's it been?"

"All right, Gus. You got my special order here?"

Gus turns behind the counter and pulls up a large jar, filled with a strange amber liquid.

"Right here. Tell me you don't eat this crap, Shell."

Opening the jar, Shelly pulls out part of the contents, revealing what's in the liquid: raw chicken livers.

"Unfortunately, I have to. This is the only way I get halfway decent nourishment anymore." Tossing the one she pulled out into the air, she catches it in her mouth, swallowing it whole. Gus looks a little ill.

"Oh well, to each her own. Twenty six, Shell."

At the other end of the street, the resident street gang is on the march, picking up its members as it goes. Relatively cordial greetings are given between them. As new people join the march, both men and women, they slide on their colors, covering their heads with colorful bandannas, primarily in the colors of the gang.

They continue a steady march, ultimately headed for Gus's shop.

Paragon, carrying her fresh jar of chicken livers, slides out the door of Gus's shop, continuing up the street toward her apartment building. She has an air of confidence about her, positive that nobody, not even in this tough part of the city, will challenge her or harass her.

Then she sees the gang.

She ducks into a shallow alley, peeking her head around the corner to carefully watch the group.

The gang continues heading for Paragon. One catches a glance at her.

"Whooee, look at that fine piece o' tail!"

"In your dreams, man, she's mine!"

The entire gang starts running toward Paragon.

Having noticed them running toward her, Paragon ducks further into the alley, probably a dumb move. Definitely a dumb move.

The gang finally reaches the alley, and start moving toward Shelley. She's backed against the dead end of the alleyway, and the gang starts harassing her.

"Hey, baby, what's up?"

"Wanna go for a ride, honey?"

"Yeah, we can show you a fine time, just give us a shot"

Paragon coils her tail, baring her fangs and hissing at the gang.

"She got fire in her, man!"

"Get away! I'M WARNING YOU!"

"Ah, I see you don't quite understand, do you?" The leader of the gang approaches Paragon. She responds by uncoiling her tail toward the man, wrapping it around his ankle and pulling.

He doesn't move.

"Oh crap ..."

"Crap is right, ho. You're neck deep in it! They don't call me Statue for nothin'!!"

The leader picks up Paragon by her neck, lifting her above his head. She struggles against him, gasping for air.

"You don' cross the Street Princes! We rule the streets!"

Statue flings Paragon against the dead end of the alley. She falls in a heap on the street, and the rest of the gang bum-rushes her, kicking her while she's down. Statue gets some order over the Street Princes.

"Hold her down! Hold her down!"

Seven Princes hold Paragon down: two on each arm, one pinning down her neck, and two holding her tail.

"Now, you wanna know what we do to stupid hos who try to face down the Princes? You really wanna know?!"

Shelley hisses again, writhing under the Princes' hold in vain, only to have the one pinning her neck push down harder. Statue is seen undoing his pants.

"You'll find out soon enough!"

Shelley struggles again. One of the Princes grabs a rock off the street and knocks it over Shelly's head, knocking her out.

And all goes black ...

Half an hour later, two young black boys ride their bikes down the same street, toward the lone alley. Suddenly, three Princes are seen to run out of the alley. One kid turns to the other.

"Those're Princes, man! Let's blow!"

"Not so fast, Kamil. There's only three, they won't hurt us."

"You so sure of that, Jimmy?!"

"I'm sure." Jimmy slowly coasts his bike toward the alley, with Kamil keeping his distance behind. Suddenly, Jimmy hears soft moaning coming from the alley. He turns around toward Kamil.

"There's somebody in there!"

"I'm gone!" Kamil turns tail and pedals away. Jimmy, after calling for him to wait to no avail, turns his bike into the alley and approaches the end.

What he sees makes him angry.

Paragon is lying under a mess of garbage thrown on her from the nearby garbage cans. Her shirt's in shreds, nearly torn off. Her costume underneath is also shredded. She's bleeding from several cuts all over her body, including a large wound on her head where she was hit by the rock. A crudely placed sign on her body boasts "Statue was here." A graffito on the back wall of the alley proudly presents the name of the gang.

Paragon is coming around. She looks toward Jimmy, pulling the sign and the garbage off of her and crawling toward him.

"Help .... me ..... please ...."

She collapses just in front of Jimmy. He carries her to his bike, laying her across the seat and the handlebars, wheeling her to his home.

In a small apartment, Paragon is laid out in the living room, on the couch. She's been bandaged up, and she's now wearing a black T-shirt which reads, "DETROIT -- where the weak are killed and eaten." Jimmy sits by the wounded woman, watching over her while she sleeps.

Finally, she rouses. Jimmy looks down upon her.

"What happened?"

"You got mugged and gangbanged by the Street Princes, lady."

Paragon looks up at Jimmy in confusion. "Where am I?"

"We're at my place. You asked me for help, and I brought you here and patched you up."

Jimmy walks over to the refrigerator, pulling out a can of soda and opening it. He sits looking at Paragon, sipping.

"I know who you are. You're Paragon. You're a cop. A hero."

Paragon sits up on the sofa. "Being a hero isn't all fights and such. We can be victims, too. As you've seen."

"It's the Street Princes. They did it to you."

"Who are the Street Princes, anyway? They seem like just a gang of punks."

"I saw the sign they put on you, marking you as Statue's victim. Statue put them together. He's a superhuman. If he doesn't want to move, he doesn't move."

"So I noticed."

"He put the Street Princes together. He used to be some small-time pimp and drug pusher until he got those powers of his. He got the others to fear him, and now he lords it over them, and they in turn rule the streets."

Paragon looks intently at Jimmy. "You seem to know a lot about the Street Princes. Too much for a little kid, if you ask me."

Jimmy stands up, walking over to Paragon. "I hate the Street Princes. They turned my mother into a whore. They forced us to live in this slum. My mom used to be the best data processor at Dix Technologies ... now she's a fifteen dollar hooker out the window. Anybody with the cash, she's an instant date." Jimmy turns his back to Paragon, looking out the window. A sour look appears on his face. "This neighborhood makes you grow up too soon. I didn't want to grow up so soon."

Paragon turns to him. She slowly rises up off the couch, wavering a bit, then slithering over to Jimmy.

"It's not your fault, Jimmy. Look, a lot of us grow up too soon. I know I did."

Jimmy turns and looks up at Paragon.

"Jimmy, when I was growing up, I lived on a farm. A farm where I was my father's only hand. I had to work from dusk to dawn, and it didn't help that my father was a bit on the abusive side.

"My senior year in high school, the government repossesed the farm, and we were forced to move to the city. When my father died, it wasn't anything like disease, as much as I think it was a broken heart. He really loved that farm. It'd been in our family for years. As it was, after his death, I supported myself for years, until I decided to become a cop."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Shelley lowers herself to eye level with Jimmy. "What I'm trying to tell you is that circumstances sometimes deprive us of our childhoods. It's not just you, it's happened to a lot of people, having to grow up before they're ready. You just happened to get a raw deal out of it, but if I know my friends on the team, we'll try our damnedest to get both you and your mother out of this hellhole."

"Promise?" Jimmy smiles for the first time.

"Promise." Jimmy embraces Paragon. The door suddenly opens behind Paragon, and soon she finds herself at the business end of a .357 Magnum.

"All right, snake woman. Who are you, what are you doing with my son, and why are you wearing my shirt?!"

The phone at the 7th Precinct office of Motown Heat rings twice before someone finally answers.

"7th Precinct."

"Laura, it's Shelley."

"Detective, nice to hear from you. What do you need?"

"I need you to pull up the file on a superhuman gang king, named Statue. If you can't find him, look up the Street Princes."

"Accessing ..." Shelley hears C.aT. jacking into her computer. A short time later, she returns. "I've got it. No file on Statue, but he's mentioned in the Street Princes file. They specialize in drug trafficking, prostitution, and general jackassery. They present themselves as the rulers of the streets, and they back up their words with violence. What's your sudden interest in the Street Princes?"

"Ohhh, nothing much. I just have to know what I'm up against. Tell me about Statue."

"Superhuman gang king, only listed power is the power of immobility. When he uses the power, he also becomes bulletproof, and immune to any superhuman attack. His power allowed him to rise to the top of the Street Princes in a heartbeat. The Princes' gang color, to differentiate them, is, surprisingly enough, royal blue."

"Thanks, C.aT. You've been a big help."

C.aT. hangs up. Paragon turns to Jimmy's mother, now more civil. Jimmy is already in bed.

"I'm sorry again, Detective Marcust. I didn't realize who you were when I came back."

Paragon nods. "I understand." Getting up, Paragon's back cracks. "Aw man, I feel like hell. Anyway, I understand from what Jimmy's told me that you've been forced to become a hooker by the Street Princes."

"That's right. It's an unfortunate situation, believe me. If I had any choice in the matter, I'd get out of the business quickly. But, if whoring for the Princes keeps them from butchering my little boy, I'm willing to keep at it."

"You shouldn't have to, Naomi!" Naomi (Jimmy's mother) walks over to where Paragon is.

"And what do you suggest I do? I don't have any kind of powers, like you or your team. And for that matter, they may not help you, either. You know what Statue and his bunch can do."

Paragon comes closer to Naomi. "We may not have enough power physically to defeat Statue, but I have a feeling that if the fight turns against the rest of his brood, we'll see how much of a coward Statue can be. I don't care what anyone has threatened you with, there's no way you should be forced into becoming a whore to protect your family."

Naomi, for the first time, smiles. "You're right, Detective."

"Please, Naomi, as long as we're on a first name basis, call me Shelley."

In Jimmy's bedroom, Jimmy peacefully sleeps, near a window with bars over it. However, they are removable bars, in case of a fire.

No fire comes, but the bars are removed from the outside. A shadowy figure climbs into the room, coming full form at the foot of Jimmy's bed. Feeling the shadow over him, Jimmy rouses.

"Huh? What ..."

The shadow figure wraps Jimmy in his blanket, slinging him like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and carrying him out of the room. In the pale light of the moon, the assailant is seen: Statue.

"Your mom the 'ho owes me big, little punk. We'll take you as the down payment."

In the living room, Paragon perks her head up. "I heard something."

"Oh, God ... JIMMY!" Naomi runs into the hallway. A loud scream is heard shortly thereafter. Painfully, Shelly slithers down the hall to see what's happened.

"He took him! He took my boy!" Naomi is becoming incoherent, collapsing in the doorway. Shelly's expression fills with rage.

"No! NO! YOU'RE MINE, STATUE!!"

To Be Continued ...
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