Tracking told me the thin guy was Crankchain, a techie with a semi-suit that allowed him Class-B strength and toughness. Unfortunately, I had nothing on the girl, but instead of introductions, I fired a pair of flash-bangs in their direction and turned my attention back at Rockhead who was unaffected by the tear gas. He was tearing huge chunks of wall from the back of the bank and hurling them at me. I turned and twisted, avoiding each, rising higher in the air to add distance, when a huge metallic hand flew hard into me, knocking the air out of my lungs, and the bow out of my hands.
“Bring him back, Crank,” the woman shouted, and I started flying back toward the rear entrance to the bank, held aloft by the metal fingers clasping my body. The device was magnetic somehow, or anti-grav, and while it moved slowly, I was in a bad position to escape.
Crankchain held his handless arm in my direction, controlling my movement, apparently unaffected by my flash-bangs. His face was a twisted rictus grin, insane and rabid, eager to inflict pain. As I came closer, I also got a good look at the unidentified girl, whose doe-like blue eyes, soft lips and pale face were completely out of place beside the insane lunatic Crankshaft.
I strained against the fingers, breaking one open.
“He’s breaking out!” she said.
“That’s impossible,” Crankshaft spat, firing the other hand at me. I had enough leverage to destroy the first projectile hand, ripping it apart and falling to the ground.
Right into Rockhead’s grasp.
He caught me as I fell and I was back in trouble. Crank’s second hand held off, floating near us, ready for anything.
“Fuck this asshole up,” Rockhead said, spurring his partners on, though I was pretty sure he meant that more for the girl.
“I’ll hit you too,” she said, moving closer, but Crankshaft followed his companion’s advice, slamming his fist into my grappled form.
The construct was so big the blow struck both Rockhead and I, with me bearing the brunt of the shot. Still, it hurt the big guy more than me. I felt his footing fail, and he staggered a half-step back, loosening his grip slightly.
I fired off the smoke system, surrounding us both in a special formula that concealed us from even infrared and ultraviolet scanning, and forced myself out of his grasp. He was fast, though, and came back at me. I caught his wrists mid-pummeling blow, and held him.
Then my legs failed.
At first it was a twitch, then the right knee buckled. A second later, the agonizing pain swept upward from the joint into my hips, and I collapsed to the floor. The worst part was realizing it wasn’t because of a strain from catching Rockhead’s powerful blow. I had done that easily, almost without effort, but my new found body wasn’t responding as I wanted, and there was nothing I could do about it. The pain was reminiscent of Lord Mighty cracking my bones apart, and I fell to the floor, clutching my injured joint.
Rockhead misunderstood what was happening, thinking his blow had felled me, and continued pummeling me with abandon. I barely felt his blows against my back and head, more aware of the tears flowing down my face, the slow quivering of my body, overwhelmed with pain, unwilling to cooperate.
“Rock, you’ll kill him, dammit!” the girl shouted, but the big guy was having too much fun pounding away. He followed his bosses’ instructions, but only after another half-dozen punches, that made the ground crack beneath me.
“Fuck you up, motherfucker,” he shouted, putting his foot on my shoulder like a big-game hunter gloating over a kill. “Crank, take a pic, bro.”
“This guy ruined my hand!” Crankchain was complaining, standing over the damaged appendage.
“Forget him,” the woman continued. “Let’s get out of here!”
The pain in my leg was starting to settle, reaching a crescendo that I was slowly becoming accustomed to. Rockhead took his foot off me, taking a step towards Crank.
“Oh, fuck this guy. You fucked my boy’s hand, you know that?” he said, stomping on my head. It was a tickle against a flood, it was a scratch while being drawn and quartered. I almost laughed, if not for a lack of control of my body.
Rockhead punched me in the head and tried to pick me up, throwing another blow into my stomach. I was doubled over, making a hard target so he ripped at my arms, punching me in