Part III
The meeting, organized via phone by Dean Toopermann and Oscar Ungtjur,
was held that evening in the board room of the Lackanooka National Bank. The
topic, of course, was what to do with "Sallie Gale."
Though Toopermann and Ungtjur had only a nodding acquaintance and didn't
particularly like one another, they recognized that they shared an urgent need
to get rid of this troublesome young woman. Louie's Uncle Smithson, the county
commissioner, was there, too -- along with the police chief, the local circuit
court judge and an emissary from Metropolis who owned a paving firm in
Lackanooka. The firm had several country contracts and was useful in laundering
money generated by less reputable business operations in the big city.
"Let's get right to the point," said Ungtjur. "This Sallie Gale, or
whatever her name is, has created a difficult situation. Miss Toopermann has
been reluctant to discuss her reasons for wanting to eliminate this problem, and
I respect her wishes to keep whatever it is that bothers her confidential. But
let me be perfectly frank about myself. The young woman has injured my nephew
Louie, physically, and has hurt his reputation. Louie is not a bad boy. Just a
bit rambunctious."
"She ain't been good for my reputation and the reputation of my force
either," said the police chief.
"And I don't relish having to deal with the charges and countercharges
arising from this afternoon's fracas," said the judge. "If I don't dismiss the
laughable assertion that Miss Gale and her friend initiated the assault on your
nephew and his buddies, I can forget about re-election -- no matter how much you
and the bank invest in my campaign."
"I understand," said Ungtjur. "So we all have our reasons for wanting
Miss Gale to disappear. The problem is, how do we go about it? The doctor in the
emergency room says that the other girl, Estelle Baroque, suffered several
broken bones and lost a few teeth, but our remarkable Miss Gale suffered no
visible injuries. And X-rays showed no bone fractures. Yet Miss Gale was much
more severely beaten."
He paused, momentarily flustered as he realized what his words
suggested. "Beaten as a result of her unprovoked attack on my nephew, of
course."
"Of course," said Toopermann, with a wry smile. "I can't believe I find
myself in the same camp as your nephew, Mr. Ungtjur, but war creates strange
alliances, and this is war. Miss Gale is a formidable enemy. While she does not
appear to have powers at anywhere near the level of Superman, I believe she was
telling the truth when she said she was sent here by him. And I believe we
cannot do her serious and permanent harm by the usual means. I can testify that
what would kill a normal girl -- or even a normal very strong man -- is not
going to work for her."
"I think I know what will," said Silvio Mozzarella, the road contractor.
He spoke quietly but with authority.
"Miss Gale, as you call her, was not exaggerating when she said she has
superhuman powers," he continued. "We know her. We've had unfortunate dealings
with her in Metropolis. And we know that Superman sent her here."
"To break up a minor drug ring?" Toopermann asked skeptically.
"To get her out of Metropolis," answered Mozzarella.
"Why?"
"She was getting a lot of attention in the newspapers," Mozzarella said
with a shrug. "It makes sense that Superman was jealous. She's just a kid, but
she was putting almost as many of my associates behind bars as he was. And she
pulled off some pretty spectacular rescues, like saving an entire village full
of people from that volcano in Nicaragua."
"An intriguing theory," said Toopermann. "Now, let me suggest another,
based on my academic training in psychology and long years of watching
interactions between men and women. I think Superman wanted to get this young
woman far away from him because she presented a sexual temptation he found very
difficult to resist. What I learned about Miss Gale during my evening of
interrogation suggests that she is, quite simply, a nymphomaniac. And she has a
predilection for situations in which she is powerless and vulnerable. I would
not be surprised if she seduced Superman and was sent here as punishment."
"Maybe so," said Ungtjur impatiently. "But I'm less interested in
Superman and his motives than in how to get rid of this bitch. Pardon my
French."
Toopermann chuckled. "You think I don't use such language myself, Mr.
Ungtjur? Yes, she is a bitch. She roughed up my sister this morning, in my very
own house. But excuse me. I believe we interrupted Mr. Mozzarella and his
thoughts on how to eliminate this 'bitch' of a problem."
"Yes," said Mozzarella. "Well, eliminating her permanently -- killing
her -- is beyond the capabilities of my organization, at least at the moment.
But we know how to incapacitate her for a long, long while. And while she's out
of commission, maybe we will develop the means of finishing her off -- her and
Supreman."
"And what is this incapacitating agent?" asked Ungtjur.
"Kryptonite," answered Mozzarella.
Toopermann snorted derisively. "You sound like a comic book villain, Mr.
Mozzarella. My area of expertise is psychology, not chemistry. But I've studied
the physical sciences enough to know that krypton is an inert gas, and you
cannot make a mineral out of something inert."
"Maybe you should stick to her area of expertise," Mozzarella said
icily. "You are incorrect when you say krypton is inert. Three labs in America
have found ways to coax it into combining with other elements. One of those labs
is owned and operated by my business associates in Metropolis. As for the
efficacy of our kryptonite, let me simply point out that it has several times
been used to foil and temporarily disable Superman."
"I stand corrected," Toopermann said apologetically.
"No hard feelings," said Mozzarella. "In fact, to show my good faith and
my commitment to our project, I have brought with me six vials of krypton gas.
Each of you will get one, and I'll hang on to the sixth. They will provide us
with protection from Miss Gale until a special shipment of kryptonite arrives on
Thursday."
"And when that shipment arrives, who will bell the cat, so to speak?"
asked Ungtjur.
"My men and I will handle that," said Mozzarella. "It would make our job
easier, of course, if one of you had the opportunity to gas her first, if she
shows up. But in any event, we'll find her. And then I'll switch hats from
big-city gangster to respectable small-town road contractor."
The others looked puzzled, but Mozzarella just smiled mysteriously and
handed out the vials of krypton gas.
# # #
Oscar Ungtjur gave his vial to his nephew. Louie was more likely than he
to run into Sallie Gale, and after their last encounter, he'd need something for
self-defense.
SG, meanwhile, had been released from the hospital and had moved back
into the dorm. Miss McIllhenney, Marston's president, paid her a personal visit,
to console her for the recent attack by the Lackanooka bullies -- and also to
inquire delicately about Sallie's whereabouts for the past few weeks.
SG thanked her for her interest but refused to explain her month-long
absence. The right time would come to expose Toopermann and her sister, but for
now silence was the best policy.
Julia, who hadn't seen SG and Estelle get beat up but who had heard
several first-hand accounts, had some questions for SG, too. After Miss
McIllhenney left, she said, "Sallie, I don't want to pry, but I've got to ask
you something."
"Sure," said SG.
"How come you don't look beat up? I mean, Estelle is in the hospital
with a broken jaw and one eye swollen shut, and you look like you just won the
Miss America pageant."
SG smiled. "Thanks for the compliment. There's an explanation, but I
just can't get into it right now. I'm sorry. Everything will become clear in a
few days, after Estelle gets out of the hospital." She didn't tell Julia, but
she wanted Estelle there when she got even with Toopermann and Regina and forced
everyone who lived in this town to see what a shabby place it was.
The next morning, Julia left for class, but SG slept in. Because of her
long absence, she was no longer enrolled in any courses, but Miss McIllhenney
said she could remain on campus until the next semester started.
She lay in bed, thinking about all she had been through. After a while,
she began feeling sexy. She couldn't help it. The memories of being roughed up
and humiliated -- by Louie and his friends and by Toop and Regina -- filled her
with shame and lust. She thought about the chair with the iron dildo. And she
thought about making love to Estelle.
Gently she began stroking her pussy. In no time, she was wet. Then she
remembered that Julia had received a food package from home, and that it
contained a thick salami sausage.
For half an hour she raped herself with the sausage and imagined it was
the biggest dick in creation.
Her date with the salami was cut short when she heard a key in the door.
She hid the sausage beneath the covers and pretended to be asleep.
"Sallie, wake up. I've got big news." It was Julia.
SG opened her eyes, sat up and stretched. "I was just having a wonderful
dream," she said.
"It can't be any better than this," said Julia. "Louie Ungtjur stopped
me between classes and gave me a note. He said to give it to you. And he said he
was really, really sorry for all the trouble he's caused. He wants to apologize
to you personally."
"It's got to be a trick," said SG.
"Maybe so," said Julia, but Trish said he went over to the hospital
today to apologize to Estelle. But she wouldn't let him into the room. Too
scared."
SG examined the envelope Julia had handed her, weighing whether to open
it.
"Go ahead," said Julia. "If he wants to make amends, it would be wrong
not to at least respond."
SG ripped open the envelope. Inside, on a sheet of lined loose-leaf
paper was a brief message, written in a childish scrawl: "I'm very sorry for
beating you and Estella up. I shouldn't have picked on you two, since you're not
nearly my size and besides you are girls. I want to apologize to you publicly.
Please meet me at O'Malley's this afternoon."
Julia, who had been reading over SG's shoulder, said, "Great. I'll go
with you."
"I'm not sure I'm going," said SG.
"Oh, you've got to go. I want to see him grovel. Someone must be putting
a lot of pressure on him. His uncle, maybe. Come on, you gotta go."
SG smiled. Julia's enthusiasm was hard to resist.
"Okay, but I don't think you should go. It could be a set up, and you
could get hurt."
"Oh, I've got to go," said Julia, pleadingly. "I really want to see
this. And besides, you may need a witness."
SG smiled and stroked Julia's cheek.
"You've been a good friend," she said.
Then, so suddenly neither was fully aware of what was happening, they
were in one another's arms, kissing passionately. They fell into bed, and Julia
began sucking SG's nipples. As they rolled over, Julia felt something hard. She
paused in her lovemaking, reached under the covers and drew out the salami.SG
blushed scarlet.
"Oh, that's okay," Julia laughed. "I hate salami. I mean I hate eating
it. Fucking it is a much better idea."
# # #
At 3:30, they dressed and set off for the malt shop. Julia seemed very
nervous.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all," she said.
"No," said SG, "you were right to begin with. I ought to give the
bastard a chance to admit what a shit he's been."
They walked on in silence.
Julia suddenly stopped and said, "Sallie, whatever happens, I want you
to know I love you."
SG held her hand and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth. "I love you,
too, but let's not get everyone thinking we're lesbians."
At O'Malley's the blinds had been lowered, which was unusual. SG felt
wary, but she opened the door with a show of confidence.
There was a small crowd, and she didn't see anyone she recognized --
except Louie. He was sitting at the counter, and when he turned to her she saw
that he had a cast on his right arm from the elbow down. He smiled a sheepish
grin.
"Hi, Sallie. Hi, Julia. I wasn't sure you'd show up."
"Well, why not," said SG. "It's not often that an asshole like you tries
to do something decent."
Louie flushed but struggled to maintain a conciliatory tone.
"Come sit by me," he said. "I want to buy you a malt or a sundae,
whatever you want. And I've got a present for you, too."
SG glanced at the man behind the counter. It wasn't Tucker. This guy was
older -- and tough looking. She looked at the others in the shop. There were
eight or nine of them, all men, all older than Louie's crowd, all unfamiliar.
"Who are your friends?" SG asked.
"They're from the police department and the prosecutor's office. They
want to watch me apologize."
So that was it, SG thought. Louie wasn't really sorry, he was just
trying to avoid prosecution.
"What'll you have?" Louie asked.
"A chocolate malt with chocolate ice cream," said SG. "How about you,
Julia?"
Julia was glancing nervously around the shop. "Nothing," she said,
almost in a whisper.
The man behind the counter started making a malt.
Louie reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small,
gift-wrapped box.
"It's for you," he said. "Sort of to make up for me being so mean and
all."
SG started unwrapping the package.
"It's perfume," said Louie. "I hope you like it."
She removed a small bottle made of frosted glass and held it up to the
ceiling light.
"It looks like there's nothing in it," she said.
"Oh, yes there is," answered Louie. "The lady at the perfume shop said
you'd love it. It's supposed to pack quite a wallop."
SG smiled grimly. "I've had enough walloping lately," she said.
Then she pulled out the stopper and sniffed. Her reaction was
instantaneous and dramatic. She gasped and dropped the bottle. Her eyes widened.
She tried to stand, but Louie clubbed her between the eyes with his cast and she
fell backward, against the counter.
The man who had been pretending to make the malt was ready for her. He
slipped a thin wire around her neck and pulled it tight with two wooden
handles.Two other men rushed up and grabbed SG's wrists, so she couldn't relieve
the pressure of the wire. Another pulled out a knife and stabbed at her exposed
belly.
"Oh, my god," Julia screamed. "What have I done?"
Silvio Mozzarella emerged from a back room. "Shut up," he snapped.
"Here's your $500. Now scram. And keep your mouth shut if you want to live to
spend it." He glanced at Louie. "You'd better clear out, too. This is a job for
professionals."
The men were crowded around SG, but she was putting up a fierce fight.
The one who was trying to garrot her yelled at the others to hold her down.
"Can't kill the bitch," he said, breathing heavily. "This fucking wire
should have taken her head off by now."
"Shiv don't work, either," said the one with the knife.
"There's only one thing that works on this cunt," said Mozzarella. He
pulled a vial of krypton from his pocket. "Our friend Louie just gave her a
whiff. Now we're going to let her have a real dose. Hold her nose."
One man held her nose, and when she opened her mouth to breathe,
Mozzarella stuck in the open end of the vial.
SG sucked in the gas and went limp.
"Okay, take over to the equipment barn," said Mozzarella. "She'll be out
for at least eight hours. You boys can do whatever you want with her. Just
remember to give her another dose around midnight and have her at the cut in
Doberman Road by 7 o'clock tomorrow morning."
After Mozzarella left, the men hauled the unconscious SG out the back
door and loaded her into a panel truck. Two men got in with her, two others got
into the cab, and a car followed.
"She's fucking amazing," said the man driving the car. "I jabbed her as
hard as I could and it didn't leave a mark."
"You was using the wrong implement," said his partner. "You was using a
knife, in her belly. When we get to the barn, I'll show you the proper
procedure. What's she needs is a prick. In her pussy."
They laughed.
In the van, meanwhile, the two men with SG had gotten a head start. They
fucked her ass and her pussy serially and simultaneously. They decided serially
was easier and more fun.
# # #
It was cool and blustery, and the sun was still low on the horizon when
SG's nemeses gathered beside the big rectangular hole in Doberman Road. The
surface had been stripped away, and even some of the bedrock beneath had been
drilled, hammered and removed. What was left, nearly two feet below the surface
of the surrounding road, was a 28-square-foot patch of jagged, corrugated rock.
Several in the small gathering were drinking steaming coffee from
cardboard cups. They talked quietly, awaiting the guest of honor.
Soon, a panel truck pulled up. The driver and a passenger went around
the back and opened the door. Two men inside were holding SG upright. She was
naked, except for a steel collar around her neck, and her wrists were tied
behind her. Her head lolled back and forth as the men handled her.
"We'll take her," said the driver.
"Why bother?" said one of the men holding SG. "Step back." He and his
companion gave SG a shove, and she fell with a thud face forward onto the road.
"Time for farewells," said the driver, lifting her to her knees by a
ring attached to her collar.
The little group gathered round her. Toopermann slipped a hand under
SG's chin and lifted her head.
"Are you awake, dear?" she asked. "What a shame, I do think she's
unconscious and will miss the festivities."
"I can take care of that," said Mozzarella. He stuck a small bottle
under SG's nose and her eyes suddenly flickered open.
"It's a powerful stimulant," he explained. "She'll be conscious til we
put her under."
Oscar Ungtjur reached out and brushed her hair from her face.
"She's quite beautiful. I can see why she got you so excited, Louie."
Louie grunted. "I wish I'd never met her," he muttered.
"And I'm sure that, by now, she sincerely wishes she had never met you,"
said the police chief.
Regina, who had held back when the others crowded around SG, now pushed
her way forward. "I hate you," she cried, kicking SG savagely in the groin. "You
seduced me."
"Now, now," said Toopermann, gently pulling Regina away. "She seduced so
many of us, with her beauty and vulnerability. But the fact is, she's only a
common little trollop, superpowers or no."
"Okay, we've got a job to do," said Mozzarella, "and if we keep this
road closed too long, people are going to start wondering."
He gestured for all but the road crew to pull back. Then he nodded to
his men. One cut the cords that held SG's wrists. Others moved in big power
tools and drilled into the exposed rock. Within a few minutes, four strong steel
bolts had been driven deep into the rock. To each bolt was attached a short
length of chain and, at the end of the chain, a steel shackle.
Two men dragged SG to the edge of the cut in the road. She looked down,
realized what awaited her, and struggled to break free.
She almost succeeded. One of her captors toppled backward and fell onto
the rock. The other could barely keep his hold on her wrist.
But the odds against her were overwhelming, and Mozzarella himself
tipped the balance, yanking her head back while others held her, and sticking a
vial of krypton into her left nostril.
Then, when she again went limp, they laid her on her belly on the rough
rock and spread her arms and legs. The rock under her pelvis was slightly
elevated, tilting her pudenda upward. The men secured her wrists and ankles with
the shackles.
"Don't all these restraints seem like overkill?" Oscar Ungtjur asked.
"I know my business," Mozzarella said sharply. Then one of the men
handed him a wooden box. He opened it and took out a large, studded dildo. It
was made of an almost translucent green material. He knelt, and as two men
pulled the lips of her pussy apart, he shoved it in. Her body trembled.
"We're not taking any chances," explained Mozzarella.
"What's that supposed to do," asked Louie, "give her an orgasm til she
breaks free or dies?"
"No, Louie, it's supposed to keep her from breaking free," Mozzarella
said, with a note of growing impatience. "The device I inserted into her vagina
is made of kryptonite, the substance Miss Toopermann was so skeptical about. It
will be slowly absorbed by her body. Our technical people estimate it will last
17 years."
Heavy equipment had moved in. A layer of gravel was dumped over SG by
truck.
Then came a layer of hot asphalt. Finally, a big roller smoothed out the
new patch until it was level with the rest of the road.
SG was now bolted to bedrock beneath a foot of paving material.
"Will she feel anything?" Louie asked. "I'd like her to feel pain."
"You're quite a guy," said Mozzarella. "A real credit to your family and
your college. How the fuck do I know what she'll feel? Kryptonite doesn't do a
thing for me."
"I'd like to think she'll be conscious," said Toopermann. "At least part
of the time. I'm sure she'll feel something when big trucks pass over her body,
pressing that poisonous green phallus deeper inside her."
"Perhaps so," said Mozzarella. "I just hope she stays out of our way for
17 years."
Toopermann gave a sudden, cruel laugh.
"Seventeen years," she said. "I knew that sounded familiar! Little
Sallie Gale has become a blonde cicada!"
"What the fuck's a cicada?" asked Louie.
"A bug that lives most of its life underground," said his uncle. "And
emerges after 17 years to mate."
"And to die," Toopermann added mirthfully.
Louie thought this over, then said, "I hope I'm around to accommodate
her on both counts."
The laughing band dispersed to their cars, leaving only Mozzarella and
his closest lieutenant, Guido, standing beside SG's temporary grave.
"These college types are a strange, cold-hearted breed," said Guido.
Mozzarella lit a cigarette. "Yeah. We're supposed to be the hardened
criminals, but we've got nothing' on them when it comes to sadism."
"You went to college, didn't you, boss?" asked Guido.
"Yeah, for a few years during the Depression. It was a high-class
college, too. I worked hard and got good grades, but they didn't want some wop
from the wrong neighborhood in Metropolis on campus. I ended up in an
altercation with an upperclassman. I broke his kneecaps, and that was the end of
my adventures in the Groves of Academe."
Guido never understood his boss when he talked this way, so he decided
to change the subject. "Is that true, about this cunt staying underground for 17
years and then coming out looking for a fuck?"
"No, Guido, that was just a sour old dyke's idea of a joke. But speaking
of fucking, how was Miss Superslut last night?"
"Oh, we had a great time at the barn. We fucked her when she was out
cold, and we fucked her even harder when she started to come to. For a while,
she was conscious enough to give us blow jobs. And guess what, we got pictures.
Frankie brought an 8-millimeter movie camera, and Dago Pete borrowed a Speed
Graphic from a photographer at the local paper."
Mozzarella was delighted. "Guido," he said, "you're a goddam genius.
Make an extra set of prints of the movie and the still shots. I'm sending them
on to Superman."
"Geeze, boss, won't that just piss him off? He'll come down on us like a
ton of bricks."
Mozzarella flicked his cigarette butt onto the fresh paving and snuffed
out the embers with his shoe.
"Not necessarily, Guido," he said. "Superman might even be grateful."
"I don't get it, boss."
"I'm not sure I get it, either," said Mozzarella. "Call it my feminine
intuition." He laughed and slapped the puzzled Guido on the back.
They walked away to their car, a sleek black Cadillac, leaving SG in a
deep and dreamless sleep. In a few hours, heavy trucks would rumble along this
farm-to-market road, bringing loads of livestock to the slaughterhouse just east
of Lackanooka.
THE END
