The Last True Hero
by Amanda Rohrssen
Chapter Six
Darkwing’s head throbbed angrily as he slowly regained consciousness. A blurry tapestry of color stretched across his vision and he blinked grudgingly. Each time his eyelids opened, more of the scene came into focus. It wasn’t until he could make out a beak and purple hair that he shot up and across the room, a threatening stare aimed at the form that had been bending over him.
“Back off, Bushbrain! Or I’ll trim your hedges like a French poodle!”
“Hey! I didn’t do anything! Is that any way to talk to someone w-who saved your life?” stammered the plant-duck heatedly.
Darkwing frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m the one who started the fire, and I pulled you and Negaduck out before the building collapsed.”
“How long have I been here, you sniveling simpleton?” Darkwing demanded firmly.
“You slept for ten hours,” Bushroot replied and crossed his arms.
Darkwing glanced around for a window to confirm this, but finding none he turned his attention back to the mutated criminal.
“What are you plotting this time, Petalhead?”
“If you’re going to call me names I might have to get rough with you.”
Darkwing raised his hands in mock-fright. “Ooo, I’m scared! The mutant flower’s gonna pollinate me!” Reaching inside his vest, he smiled arrogantly. “It’s weed killer for you, Reggie!”
Suddenly, his smirk dropped from his face and he looked inside of his pocket. It was empty. Patting himself all over, he frantically searched his person. Bushroot sneered and held up Darkwing’s gas gun and canister of weed killer.
“Looking for these? I knew you wouldn’t believe me, so I took them before you could use them on me.”
“Well I don’t need my gas gun to get rid of the likes of you, you villainous vegetable!”
He sprang toward him for a heroic web-kick, but was grabbed from behind by large, bear-like branches. Bushroot sighed with relief and wiped his brow.
“Thanks, Douglas.” He turned to Darkwing, his deep blue eyes fixed in a cold glare.
“Call off your mutant army, Bushroot!” warned Darkwing before Bushroot could speak. “Or I’ll lock you up where even air can’t reach you!”
The introverted scientist frowned. “My army? I’m trying to stop those things, not help them! I’ve spent the past few days studying them so I could find their weakness.”
“And why should I believe you? How do I-“ A bushel of pine needles clamped his bill shut.
Bushroot took a deep breath. “Now hear me out. We’re the only three left in St. Canard. We have to stop those aliens!”
Negaduck stirred. He sat up stiffly and rubbed his neck, unnoticed by Darkwing and Bushroot. Darkwing stopped struggling against the large fir tree that held him captive and glowered at the plant-duck. Douglas tentatively removed his branch from the hero’s bill.
“Aliens?! That’s ridiculous! It’s preposterous! It’s…it’s…it’s happened before… How do I know you’re not one of them?” he countered.
Bushroot faltered, then bowed his petaled head toward the vigilante.
“They can’t keep their shape once they’re broken, right?”
Darkwing recalled the way Morgana’s body had sunk back into its true form after Quackerjack had shattered it.
“Pluck one of my petals and see for yourself,” the plant-duck added, lowering his head.
Darkwing considered this and seeing no alternative, yanked out one of the small purple leaves.
“Ouch!” cried the sensitive scientist. “You didn’t have to pluck so hard.” He rubbed his head tenderly.
Darkwing stared at the petal intently, but its delicate form never wavered. He gazed doubtfully at Bushroot.
“Why would you help me save the city?”
“I’d like to see them suffer the way they made me suffer…but not like this. No one deserves this.”
Darkwing shook off his look of pity and replaced it with one of irritation. “What are you talking about?!”
“This is my chance to set things right! Maybe if I help save the citizens of St. Canard they’ll look at me in a different light!”
“They’re still alive?! And just how are you going to save them?”
“I know where they’re being held. All I need is some help.”
“You know where they’re base is?! How?”
“You forget, I can communicate with all the plants in the city! They’re my personal grapevine of information!” Bushroot smiled proudly.
Darkwing’s eyes grew wide with a new respect for the plant-duck, then narrowed suspiciously. “Why do you need me? Why don’t you get your plant pals to help you?”
Bushroot’s eyes lowered with a pained look.
Before he could reply, a third voice rasped abruptly from the corner. “I don’t know what you stupid knobs are babbling about, but I’m outta this loony bin!” Negaduck dashed to his feet and stormed from the room.
“But Negaduck, they’ll get you if you go out there!” Bushroot’s shrill voice called warningly as the menacing mallard slammed the door with a booming clang.
“Caught? Bah! That bumbling buttercup’s still jabbering about aliens!” he muttered spitefully under his breath. His webbed feet clapped the moist pavement fiercely as he made his way through the dusky streets in dark solitude. No sound could be heard throughout the deserted city save for his purposeful footfalls echoing endlessly down the alleyways. The desolate quietness didn’t bother Negaduck. He was used to being alone and was quite content with it. Lost in his moody thoughts, he did not even glance at the shadowy form emerging from the corner ahead of him until he nearly ran it over.
The sneering duck halted his dogged pace and glared at the looming form barring his path. “Outta my way, you big ape!” he ordered, tightening his fists, “Or I’ll rearrange your face!”
The shadow took a creeping step forward. “Well,” it replied calmly as it leaned toward Negaduck, “if you’re offering…”
The waning sunlight barely revealed the figure’s features, but Negaduck recognized him almost immediately.
“Hey! Aren’t you that sappy do-gooder’s sidekick?”
Launchpad’s face grinned back at him mischievously. “Not for long.”
Negaduck frowned in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Suddenly, the pilot’s muscular form burst, flinging yellow slime all over the villain’s body. Frantically, Negaduck thrashed about, trying to free himself from the creature’s clinging grip. The golden goo flattened and spread across his limbs, engulfing him. He quivered with disgust and screamed as he felt it sink slowly beneath his skin and course through his veins. His last thoughts were of Bushroot and Darkwing. Suddenly they weren’t so crazy after all.
“How do I know you won’t turn on me once we’re inside?” Darkwing argued pointedly, hands on his hips. Douglas had long since let him loose.
Bushroot folded his stem-like arms and gazed piercingly at the crime fighter. “You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
Darkwing threw his arms in the air and headed for the door. “Forget it! I’m a hero, you’re a villain! Heroes and villains don’t work together!”
“You’re just like everyone else, never giving me a chance! All I ever wanted was a friend. Someone to understand me. And every time I tried to get one, you had to show up and ruin everything!” Bushroot declared hotly.
Darkwing turned, his hand on the doorknob, and glowered. “Your friends attacked the city! What was I supposed to do?”
“I know I made some bad decisions before, but this time I want to help!”
Darkwing narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need help from a felonious fruit to save the city! I’ve handled aliens before, and this time will be no different! Now go find some other sap to take the fall for you. I’m outta here!”
A resounding boom thundered through the tiny room, leaving Bushroot in silence with Douglas, angry tears sprouting in his clear blue eyes.
“Well,” he announced resolutely, “who needs him anyway? I’ll save St. Canard on my own!”
Though the number of people he knew of that were left in the city was dwindling, Darkwing was still too proud to accept help from a criminal. St. Canard was his responsibility, and he was determined to bear the burden alone.
“Now to find LP and get to that base…” he faded as he made his way down the darkening streets.
Abruptly a raspy shriek grated through the air, breaking the stillness. Darkwing raced toward the sound in a fury, recognizing the voice as Negaduck’s. Another one bites the dust… he thought wryly. Maybe I can follow his alien assassin back to its headquarters!
As he charged down the street a robust form rounded the next corner, and Darkwing couldn’t stop in time to avoid slamming into him. Both of them hit the pavement with a loud thud and struggled unsuccessfully to rise. Darkwing rubbed his pounding head as his vision cleared.
“Launchpad?” he asked in disbelief as the figure opposite him sat up, grimacing. “Boy, am I glad to see you! Come on, I think Negaduck was just captured which means-“ he leapt to his feet, “-one of those avaricious aliens is nearby!” He pulled out his magnifying glass excitedly and strode up and down the sidewalk like a child searching for fallen coins.
Launchpad’s twisted expression returned, contorting his bill into a threatening scowl as he crept behind the elated crime fighter. Inch by inch he gained on Darkwing with his arms outstretched, his menacing features shrouded in the deepening shadow of night. Only a few scattered and dying street lamps illuminated the desolate street and Darkwing frowned in the fading light.
“I must’ve really been out! It’s night already, and I can’t see anything!” He halted in his tracks and was nearly bowled over by his sidekick. Expectantly he raised his hand, still frowning through his magnifying glass. “Got a light, LP?”
Without warning, a blaring clang resounded repeatedly from a stately building across the lackluster road. A caped figure raced out of the glass doors, a large and extremely full bag flopping awkwardly over its shoulder.
“See you next crime!” it shouted with a smirk and took off in the opposite direction.
Darkwing crammed his magnifying glass back into its hidden pocket and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind that, LP! There goes Negaduck!” He charged after the criminal just before Launchpad could snatch him into his grasp.
Negaduck cackled evilly as he headed for his hideout bordering the Audubon Bay, the sack full of money still clutched greedily over his shoulder.
“A few more banks, then the old folk’s home and I’ll be public enemy number one for sure!” His grin curved cruelly across his long beak. “And then the real fun begins!”
“Don’t celebrate yet, Negaduck!” A booming voice thundered heroically through the evening air.
Negaduck grimaced and rolled his eyes. “Not that buffoon!” he muttered as a voluminous puff of blue smoke appeared out of thin air, barring his path.
“I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the flat tire on the vehicle of crime! I am…Darkwing Duck!”
The mist faded as the masked mallard struck a daring pose. Negaduck frowned and tightened his grip on the loot.
“Beat it you hackneyed hero! Or I’ll send you back to the mental institution you broke out of!” He shook his fist threateningly in Darkwing’s face.
The hero narrowed his eyes. “Not until you hand over that money, Negaduck!”
The villain grinned slyly. “With pleasure.” He swung the moneybag powerfully into Darkwing’s beak, sending him careening into a nearby wall.
The crime fighter sat up and rubbed his bill. Negaduck towered over him and laughed menacingly.
“I’m not through with you yet, you hideous hyena!” Darkwing declared.
Using his hands for support, he kicked both feet into Negaduck’s chest, catapulting him across the black pavement and into the opposite wall. With a loud grunt, the villain’s body sank into a silhouetted heap, and the money plopped limply at Darkwing’s feet. The hero rose and brushed himself off with a satisfied smile spread across his feathered features.
“Yup, yup. You see, Negaduck, I’ll always have the upper hand…or foot, as it were.”
He turned as the sound of approaching footsteps met his ears.
“Well, nice to see you, sidekick! Here,” he hefted the sack laboriously into Launchpad’s arms, “return this to the bank and tell them it’s compliments of Darkwing Duck. I’ll take care of Negaduck.”
Without a word, Launchpad turned toward the bank and sauntered toward its doors, the bag slung effortlessly over his shoulder. Darkwing turned his attention back on his arch nemesis. Cautiously, he approached the lifeless form and bent over him, studying his still form intently. He appeared to be unconscious, but one could never be sure. Darkwing frowned, deep in thought, as he slowly stretched a hand toward the crumpled fedora covering Negaduck’s face.
So, he is unconscious, he thought with relief as he slid the long crimson hat from his enemy’s peaceful face and placed it on the sidewalk. Thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance and Darkwing took a glimpse of the overcast night sky before reaching for Negaduck’s flaccid wrist to snap a handcuff over it. Nonchalantly he flicked open one of the silver rings and grabbed hold of Negaduck’s wrist when suddenly the villain’s hand clamped fiercely over Darkwing’s and yanked him to the ground. Darkwing slammed into the pavement with a loud grunt that knocked the wind from him. As the hero gasped for air, Negaduck pinned his wrists and ankles to the ground and grinned.
“Time for round two,” he rumbled as Darkwing struggled both to breathe and to get out from under him.
Desperately, the protagonist searched the street for anyone to help him, and it wasn’t long before his eyes met Launchpad’s as he emerged, whistling, from the bank.
“Launchpad, help!” Darkwing screamed, his voice tight with panic.
The pilot, however, kept his steady pace as if he didn’t notice Darkwing’s predicament. Suddenly, Negaduck’s arms gelled and melted around Darkwing’s arms and chest, crushing him to the sidewalk. The vigilante turned his attention back to his look alike and winced in pain, his bones threatening to give way under the intense pressure. The remaining portions of Negaduck’s triumphant form liquefied around the rest of Darkwing’s body, trapping him completely. A smug expression filled Negaduck’s face as he leaned forward and stared Darkwing straight in the eyes.
“Nighty-night!” he rasped as his features sank into the golden liquid Darkwing knew so well and plunged into his face. The creature molded to him, covering him in blackness, and seemed to breathe his life into itself as Darkwing, shuddering and wheezing, frantically tried to hang on to consciousness.
But in the end, the blinding pain won over and the hero faded into oblivion.