This story is one chapter ahead on my Patreon!

---

Part One

Zinda didn’t like having no back-up. 

Yes, she was a capable woman - a formidable woman - the kind that could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the toughest of men. But still… going off without someone to watch your back?

That’s just how stretched thin the good guys are these days, Zinda thought as she took slow, easy steps down the sidewalk.

The cabbie had outright refused to take her into the neighborhood, telling her it gave off bad vibes. So he dropped her off right at the edge, where the Hub City suburbs turned into… whatever this commune called itself. Leaving the blonde superheroine to hoof it the rest of the way.

It isn’t even getting dark yet, for Christ’s sake…

Zinda gave a derisive snort. She’d faced some - a lot - of pushback as Lady Blackhawk from pigheaded men, the sort who didn’t like seeing women doing “men’s work”. But even the chauvinists of decades past would have had the decency to show a lady all the way to her destination. But that was the future for you. Times and attitudes changed, but not always for the better.

So there was an extra bit of bravado in her step. Her black, pleated skirt swished and swashed around her thighs. The cold air nipped at her bare thighs, but the blonde fought back a shudder. It was the price of staying true to the classics. Another holdover from her own time, her uniform from the Blackhawks. All the superheroines these days liked to wear skin-tight suits. A few even went into a fight wearing what could only be described as battle-bikinis! The only other heroine that wore a skirt was Wonder Woman - and she was supposedly hundreds of years old!

Zinda Blake may have been a forward-thinking woman, but she’d be damned if she was going to give up the uniform she fought so hard for. The fact that she looked damn good in her Blackhawk get-up was just a nice bonus.

The outfit may have made her a walking target in a pigsty like Hub City, but with Dinah’s hand-to-hand training Zinda knew there wasn’t a meathead in the whole town who could touch her. That… and the fact that this neighborhood wasn’t much of a pigsty. In fact, the further she ventured into the cabbie’s no-go zone, the more it looked like the exact opposite.

Zinda’s walk slowed to a snail’s crawl. The blonde couldn’t help but stare. Compared to the rest of Hub City, this neighborhood looked like a paradise.

It was so clean. There was not a stitch of garbage or waste anywhere. The grass that had been wild and overgrown just a few blocks back had disappeared, replaced with neatly trimmed lawns. Where there had once been abandoned husks of wood and brick, there were now homes, re-painted and refurbished. The few dilapidated buildings that Zinda could see were clearly undergoing repairs, with men and women shuffling around to make it livable again. The people were working together like a well-oiled machine.

The whole thing would have been impressive, inspiring even, if not for the fact that it was clearly a commune sprouting up in the middle of an American city. Even with the cleanliness and social cohesion, there was something off about it all. It didn’t resemble a normal suburb at all, especially not with the small crops being grown right on some of the front yards. There was a market set up in the middle of the road, with people trading and bartering for food and goods. It was like something out of the past, happening now in suburbia.

Oracle had warned Zinda that magic might have been involved. The gun-toting heroine had rolled her eyes at first. But now, seeing it with her own eyes, seeing how off it all looked, the blonde couldn’t dismiss that theory anymore.

Whatever this place was, it was weird.

Zinda really didn’t like having no back-up.

She had only been sent in as a scout. And now she’d scouted the place. There was definitely some strange, magical buffoonery going on, at least as far as she could see. Lady Blackhawk didn’t have any powers. Only her guns and her moxy. If the threat was indeed magical, Zinda wasn’t equipped to deal with it. She had done her job. Now it was time to report in and debrief.

Zinda turned to leave… and gave an involuntary shout as she nearly collided with someone.

That someone was an older lady, short and plump and appearing very harmless. She gave Zinda a warm smile.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” The older woman said in a kind tone. “You must be new.”

The old woman had come out of nowhere. Zinda hadn’t even heard her approach. It was a rare thing for a superheroine to be caught off guard, even a non-powered one like herself. And that just made this older woman all the more unusual.

“I’m just passing through. Seeing the sights.” Zinda answered quickly - but still politely.

The other woman brushed some silver-gray hair out of her eyes, chuckling. The laugh didn’t seem forced or otherwise insincere. It was genuine and hearty. But Zinda remained wary all the same. The blonde fought back a frown. She didn’t enjoy being so put off, especially by an older dame.

“Well you won’t see much in the rest of Hub City, I’m afraid.” The woman shrugged. Her smile widened as she nodded towards the bustling market in the middle of the street. “At least, nothing like our little slice of heaven right here!”

There was a small voice in Zinda’s head telling her to just turn and walk away. The blonde ignored it. Whether it was out of pride or just her everyday sense of politeness, the pilot-turned-superheroine returned the older woman’s smile. What hurt could there be in some smalltalk? Zinda was sent here to gather some intel, wasn’t she? And when was Lady Blackhawk the type of gal to quit a mission?

“It’s nothing like any neighborhood I’ve ever seen, I’ll give you that.” Zinda replied, setting her hands on her hips as she once more surveyed the strange commune. It did look like it was a booming little town, she had to admit. “Everyone’s working. Everyone’s pitching in. It’s strange to see these days.”

The older woman gave a snort, her smile dropping into a small frown.

“That certainly says something about the sorry state of the world, doesn’t it?” She said to Zinda, her brow tightening into a thick line. “That it’s strange for people to do their part?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, ma’am.” Zinda told the woman. The last thing she wanted was to get into a scene right in the middle of the street.

But Zinda needn’t have feared. A smile was back on the older woman’s face in an instant, her eyes lighting up happily.

“Oh, no offense taken.” She said, waving off Zinda’s apology with a short laugh. “We know there’s nothing normal here. But we take pride in building up our community. Everyone has a place - and a purpose - here in Savagetown!”

“Savagetown?” Zinda repeated bemusedly. She couldn’t help but give a snort of her own. It was an odd name for a peaceful little commune to have. The blonde took a quick glance towards the bustling outdoor market, the front-yard crops, the home repair teams working in perfect sync. There was nothing savage going on that Zinda could see.

“I know what you’re thinking. A bit of a misnomer, right?” The older woman gave a soft chuckle, patting Zinda on the arm. “But it’s named for the man who made all this happen.”

The founder, Zinda realized. And possibly their leader…

The blonde put on a friendly smile. 

“Sounds like quite the fellow.” She said to the older woman. “What can you tell me about him?”

“I can do you one better: I can take you to meet him!”

In her mind, there was a debate unfolding. The rational side was telling Zinda to do as she decided moments before, turn and leave. She was sent as a scout, not to tackle the problem herself. There were other heroes who were better equipped to handle situations of… stranger natures. But so too did another voice speak. The daring Lady Blackhawk urged her to press onward. To learn more. After all, a scout’s job was to gather as much intel as possible. And she was a superheroine, wasn’t she?

In the end, Zinda’s ego edged out for the win. But just barely.

The older woman seemed to sense Zinda’s mental conflict. Again, she set her hand gently on the younger heroine’s arm.

“You won’t be disappointed, sweetie.” She said warmly. “I promise.”

Any other time and alarm bells would have been going off in Lady Blackhawk’s head. But Zinda couldn’t help but admire the woman’s matronly nature. It reminded her of the women from her hometown neighborhood, back in her own time. Bygone attitudes, Zinda felt with a sliver of bitterness.

“Are you sure it won’t be any trouble?” Zinda continued to pry. “If he’s the one in charge, then he must be a busy man.”

A bemused look fell over the older woman’s soft face. She turned and looked Zinda up and down, almost in disbelief. For the briefest moment, the blonde felt a pang of self-consciousness. Was her skirt showing off too much leg?

“Jeez Louise, it’s like you’ve never looked in a mirror.” The older woman muttered, incredulous. She broke into a low guffaw, hooking her arm around Zinda’s. “Honey, he’s definitely going to make time for you.”

The compliment was loud and clear. Zinda didn’t blush - she was not the blushing type - but the implications of the other woman’s words were nice to dwell on all the same.

“Alright. I’m convinced.” Zinda lied, putting on a beaming smile. “Let’s go meet the boss man.”

It was a risky move. But superheroines were always taking risky moves. And it couldn’t hurt to catch a glimpse of this town’s top dog. 

Could it?

---

The “boss man” turned out to be none other than Vandal Savage. And as Zinda scrambled up the stairs to the second floor of his house - really a small mansion - she mentally kicked herself for not figuring it out sooner. A name like Savagetown was as subtle as a brick to the face. 

The fight was on the moment she laid eyes on him. She had been waiting to meet the mysterious leader of the commune, sitting pretty in a shockingly well-restored living room when the towering supervillain stepped through the door. 

A wall of muscle he was, with dark hair swept back away from his hard face. His jaw like an anvil and his brow heavy over his sharp eyes, Savage was every bit as intimidating as his reputation made him out to be. Even when wearing a red turtleneck.

Zinda didn’t give him the chance to speak.

In an instant, Lady Blackhawk had her pistol drawn. She missed half her shots. And the ones that hit home, Savage shrugged off like they were nothing. He was an immortal, Zinda remembered only after emptying her gun. She may as well have been throwing pillows at him.

With no spare ammunition - she never thought to bring extra magazines on a scouting mission - and no superpowers to put her on even footing, Zinda did the only thing she could think of. She hurled her empty pistol at Savage’s head and bolted out of the room. With the walking slab of muscle blocking the front door, her only option was to head upstairs.

She could hear his voice booming behind her, rumbling like a boulder rolling down the side of a mountain.

“This is entirely unnecessary, Miss Blake.” He knew her name. Of course he knew her name. Vandal Savage may have looked like a lumbering brute, but he had thousands and thousands of years of knowledge and wisdom in his brain. “To react so violently is unbecoming.”

“Unnecessary?” She blurted out, almost shrieking. She paused near the top of the stairs, clutching the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. “You think I don’t know magical malarkey when I see it? You’re controlling those people somehow!”

It had to be magical. Savage was known for dealing in the mystical underground of the world. Unless he borrowed brainwashing tech from Lex Luthor. But they seemed to be on the outs as of late. Vandal Savage using advanced tech was unlikely.

Zinda’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as she reached the second floor. Turning tail wasn’t heroic at all, but what could she do? Savage was taller and stronger and quite literally unkillable. And if he caught her… 

A shudder went down Zinda’s back. She didn’t want to think about what would happen to her if she fell under Savage’s thrall, the same way all those other people did.

“Yes, I am controlling them.” Savage boomed again, his words echoing through the house. Even upstairs, the heaviness of his voice sent a tremble through Zinda’s belly. Then came his footsteps. She could hear them, thumping loudly against the wooden floor. “And they are all the better for it.”

He was coming after her, she knew. Zinda’s heart raced, her whole body going tense. Her eyes darted around the second floor, a lengthy hall with half a dozen doorways on either side. Doorways but no doors, oddly. Perhaps the refurbishing wasn’t entirely complete in Savage’s home. Zinda didn’t care about the particulars though. She darted into a room at random.

To her dismay, the windows were still boarded up. And there was hardly any furniture. A bare bed. A dresser. A mirror. A round stool. Her eyes centered on the stool. For a moment, she felt hope. Then she picked it up and her heart sank.

Too heavy, she realized. It would make a poor weapon.

She let it drop to the floor and darted back out into the hall. Still she could hear Savage’s heavy footfalls. He was coming up the stairs now. Zinda’s heart was hammering in her chest now. She didn’t have a lot of time. 

Zinda dipped into another room. Savage’s study from the looks of it. And much more decorated than the room she had just been in. A large, wooden desk, carved from dark oak. A bookshelf along the far wall, lined with all sorts of books and trinkets. But what could she use? Was there anything that could give Zinda an edge?

Then she saw it. A bronze paperweight resting on the desk, molded into the shape of an oval with a flat bottom. Small enough for her to use, but also big enough to hurt. Savage’s footsteps were growing louder, approaching from just down the hall. The paperweight would have to do.

Zinda gripped the cold metal in her hand, ready to strike. It was only then that she saw a major problem. The study had two entrances. The open doorway she just entered through and another just off to her right, connecting the study to the next room over. Her stomach sank. She wasn’t safe there.

The chill of fear stabbed through her body. And it only got worse when she realized how quiet it was.

Savage’s footsteps had stopped. And Zinda didn’t know where he was.

“These people were living in squalor before I arrived.” Savage spoke again. His voice came suddenly, shocking Zinda out of her fear. But only for a moment. The blonde felt dread settle in her gut when she realized she couldn’t place him. Here, there, it was like his voice was all around her. 

“My leadership was a gift.” The immortal continued. “I gave these people direction, purpose. I gave them the tools and the drive to improve their lot. And now they’re flourishing. Compared to the rest of Hub City, Savagetown is a paradise. There’s no distrust here. No crime.”

“No crime except for yours.” Zinda bit back, only to wince an instant later. She had just given away her position. Her eyes darted from one doorway to the other, waiting for Savage to make his move.

She waited. And waited. And waited. But his attack never came.

Seconds ticked by, feeling like an eternity. Zinda’s nerves, once thought to be as steely as any man’s, were unraveling. Until finally there was a snap.

Lady Blackhawk broke rank and ran. She bolted through the doorway to her right…

And cried out in shock as she ran right into the towering Vandal Savage.

On instinct, she swung the bronze paperweight right at his head, hoping to strike him across the temple. But even with all of her strength behind that swing, Savage was faster. And stronger. He caught her arm by the wrist, squeezing tight until the paperweight fell from her numb fingers.

No weapon. No chance. Defenseless. 

Zinda howled and shrieked as she thrashed in Savage’s iron grip, hoping that she’d somehow make herself more trouble than she was worth. But Savage held firm.

Her mind was ruled by panic and fear. Her blood was up, her heart pounding against her ribcage. But soon there came a sense of bewilderment and anger as Savage threw a fistful of something right into her face. It felt like dust but smelled far sweeter. Tasted sweeter, too. A clump of whatever was in Savage’s hand collided with Zinda’s nose and open mouth, exploding into a pinkish cloud of particulates. 

They filled her nostrils, settled on her tongue, sticking to the roof of her mouth. Zinda retched and sneezed and coughed, staggering on shaky feet. She was so busy wiping the stuff from her face that she didn’t even realize Savage had let go of her arm.

“Wha- ach- w-what did you-?” She attempted to ask, doubling over to spit the damned stuff out of her mouth.

“A simple concoction I picked up over the millennia.” She heard Savage explain. His voice was calm and measured, as were his footsteps as she heard him circle around in front of her. He continued on, his words cool and blunt. “You will lose consciousness in a moment. Do not fight it.”

No, Zinda thought. It can’t end like this!

But Savage was right. She could already feel herself losing strength in her arms and legs. Her vision was becoming hazy, her eyelids becoming heavy. 

Zinda was on the verge of tears - though that may have been the doing of the pink dust Savage had thrown in her face. 

This was supposed to be a simple scouting mission, Zinda bemoaned silently. She wasn’t supposed to be dealing with a high level supervillain, not on her own! But alas, luck was just not on Lady Blackhawk’s side.

“Y-you… bastard…” Zinda slurred. The room was starting to spin. The blonde tried to take another swing at Savage’s stupid face, only for her weak punch to throw her off balance. She stumbled right into Savage’s broad chest, groaning. “Can’t… stop…”

Zinda tried, tried to regain her balance. But her legs felt heavy like concrete. Her whole body felt like it was sinking to the floor.

“Please, take a seat.” Savage urged her. With her cheek pressed against his chest, she could feel his voice rumbling low and deep. The villain almost sounded concerned for her. He eased her gently into a cushioned chair, continuing on. “The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

Too weak to move, all Zinda could do was loll her head to look at the man standing over her. The turtleneck was tight on his body, she realized then. Well fitted to his thick arms and his broad chest. It would have been a pleasing sight in any other circumstance - especially with the front of his sweater marred by bullet holes. The bullet holes she had put there.

No, Zinda mentally chided herself. That’s not how Lady Blackhawk operates. Drooling over the bad guy…

“Gonna… stop… you…” Zinda murmured weakly, defiantly.

But it was clear on Vandal Savage’s face that he was unconvinced.

“When you wake up, you will be made to understand.” He told her. “Though I must admit, I am pleased you arrived. Every king needs a queen, so they say. And my scout was right. You are lovely.”

Zinda felt dread at his words. Or at least she should have. She felt a warmth color her cheeks as Savage mentioned her beauty. A part of her was furious that such thoughts even existed in her mind. But another part of her…

He really does have a nice voice.

That was the final thought that swam through Zinda’s mind before her eyelids became too heavy to bear. 

Sleep claimed the lovely Lady Blackhawk. And so too did the villainous Vandal Savage.