The Vigilante: Ever Vigilant!
By Lawrence liberty
1
The 853th century
A handsome dark haired man with gleaming silvery skin and a colorful costume dominated by a large star emblazoned on his chest checked his appearance in one of several mirrors and smiled as he adjusted his hair.
He was standing in a futuristic lab full of odd scientific devices but the walls were covered with murals depicting himself in various heroic poses. Shelves held awards he had won and the only artwork in the room featured his own silvery face and form.
“Diva, play the holographic recording of the death scene from the August 1987 Alien Invasion of Earth once more. I want to make certain I am aware of every detail I can’t mess up my big moment!” he said.
A small hovering computerized device replied in a sultry female voice and said, “Affirmative, Peter. As requested here are the final moments of the heroic Greg Sanders also known as the cowboy hero the Vigilante! As you recall he died during the alien invasion and gave his life to save several children from menacing aliens. The threatening aliens were a Khund, a Kraalian, and a Gordanian. Note the fourth being at the scene was in fact an Earth scientist transformed by chemicals into what resembled an alien or monster. This Dr. Dorn was merely posing as an alien to bide his time and find a way to stop the murderous aliens. The Vigilante arrived in the abandoned tenement in which they were hiding in time to save the children from their attackers!”
Peter Platinum nodded and raised one finger to shush his robotic aide as its holographic projector displayed the final moments of the battle after the Vigilante had killed the lizard-like Gordanian and had himself been wounded by laser fire.
A burly Khund warrior and a metallic-looking Kralian were looming over a group of frightened children while the green hued Dorn stood nearby. Platinum knew their names and natures from watching the events over and over but it was the final moments of the battle that occupied his attention today. The alien were stopped by a man in blue jeans, a blue shirt, a white cowboy hat, and a red bandana across his lower face. He was the heroic Greg Sanders a.k.a. the Vigilante and according to history he was moments away from his death.
The Vigilante tackled the Khund as the brute wrapped his powerful arms around him and strained furiously. The Vigilante felt his bones crack, and the room began to spin before his eyes. He recalled his heroic life as Greg Sanders, singer turned hero. He dropped his now-empty six-shooters and thought for a moment about his heroic grandfather, who had passed the weapons on to the boy when he was merely an admiring youth not much older than the kids who cowered at the foot of the steps.
Can’t let the kids get hurt. Got to play the cavalry one last time, the Vigilante vowed. He slammed his elbow into the Khund’s head and twisted the heavy helmet the Khund wore until it shifted and blinded the alien. The Vigilante felt the pain from the blaster fire that hit his side, but he fought onward and broke free from the brute’s hold. He saw Dorn knock the Kralian out, and he smiled slightly as he tossed himself across the room, grabbed the fallen blaster, and aimed the alien weapon with his unerring accuracy. The laser struck the Khund in the face, and he fell with a thud.
Dorn ran to his side, as did the children. “You saved us! You were awesome!” cried Roy.
“Yeah!” said Roger. “I never saw anybody fight or shoot like that!” The little girl began to cry as Harold held her hand.
“Don’t cry, missy. Y’all will be safe now. That alien’s on our side!” said the Vigilante as he lay at their feet.
Dorn changed form and became a thin human with brown hair and a mustache. “I’m Dr. Dorn, and I’m from Gotham City. (*) Don’t let my alien alter ego frighten you. I took that monster form to help our heroes. I never thought it would be a blessing for me. I fooled them by getting a fallen translator and making them think I was an alien and not just a scientist who turns into a big green monster.”
[(*) Editor’s note: See “The Strange Experiment of Dr. Dorn,” Batman #154 (March, 1963).]
The Vigilante smiled and said, “Thanks, pard. A hero comes in many forms. I sure met some real fine ones in my time. Never was more than a singing cowboy with a desire to help folks out. Guess I did some good in my time.” He touched the little girl’s hand and closed his eyes silently. In a moment, he was gone.
Dr. Dorn said, “I’m afraid he’s dead.”
Peter Platinum interrupted the sad scene and said, “And cut! I mean stop! I keep forgetting that this isn’t one of my action holos! However, I think I am ready! I’m going back in time to the moment before Vigilante met his death. The greatest hero of the future will now display his awesomeness in the ancient past although no one will ever know just what I did!”
He blinked out of sight and left the small robot in an empty lab. He reappeared centuries earlier in the crumbling old building and stopped time for a few seconds. Then, he disappeared with the Vigilante’s body seconds after the fallen hero had closed his eyes.
The children and Dr. Dorn did not notice the nearly instantaneous removal of the hero’s body because of Peter’s use of advanced technology. They also stood over what appeared to be the Vigilante’s now lifeless body just as they had originally.
Back in the futuristic lab, Peter Platinum placed the dying Vigilante within a large medi-device and smiled in a cocky manner.
“Got him! The lifeless but identical protoplasmic body double I left in Vigilante’s place will fool everyone into thinking the real human died while in fact my machines will heal him completely in minutes!” he said.
Diva said, “Excellent work, Mr. Platinum. So you’ve saved a life without really changing recorded history. To all appearances the Vigilante died that day and was eventually buried in his Greg Sanders identity and yet from our future perspective we know his story didn’t end that day. He lived on for many years and had many adventures in his costumed role.”
Peter said, “And most importantly of all from what my sources indicate he eventually married and one of his descendents eventually became the founder of the Carter line that produced Michael “Booster” Carter the Corporate Crusader whose career… paltry as it was… inspired me to become the legend in the making you see before you!”
Diva said, “Indeed, sir. Had Booster Gold not existed you would never had had the idea to use his gear and emulate his heroic identity for your own enrichment!”
Platinum frowned and said, “I owe him something. I admit it. I could not risk letting his ancestor the Vigilante die before having kids that would be Booster’s own ancestors. The Vigilante’s own nephew the so-called Swashbuckler was even named Michael Carter but that proved to be a popular family name in their line and it was in fact Sanders who was Booster’s direct ancestor and not the lesser known Swashbuckler!”
The medi machine hummed and a now fully healed Vigilante groaned. Platinum hit a dial and the hero vanished.
“Now, he is back in his own era and he may resume his heroic career which will include an eventual marriage and the continuation of his family line that will lead to Booster Gold who will play a small role in my own development since I did base my career on his own more humble efforts centuries ago!” smirked Platinum.
Diva said nothing but the little robot thought, “I do hope Peter was careful in using our time travel device to return the hero to his proper era. He has erred more than once in determining such precise calculations!
2
Moments later, the Vigilante gasped as he saw a strange new environment all around him. He recognized the sounds and smells of a city. He also knew that he was not anywhere near the tenement in which he’d just battled the aliens.
“I don’t know what rightly happened. I was hurt by those aliens. They were even worse than those Doomsters I fought with the JLA a few years ago. I thought I was a goner for sure. Now, I feel as fit as a fiddle! I don’t even have any burn marks on my shirt from where that Buck Rogers laser gun hit me!” he mused.
He stepped back and felt smooth, cold stones and realized he was on a construction site. He frowned as he gazed around him and recognized some of the nearby landmarks from his touring days.
“Boston! This is Boston and these granite slabs are going to be used to construct what was called the McKim Building but now days is the site of the Boston Public Library. This is the past! I’ve gone back in time!”
A sign proclaimed that this was indeed the site of the McKim Building and gave the date construction had started as August 1888!
The Vigilante pressed his hands against those blocks and drew some reassurance from the fact that they were solid, ordinary granite. He needed something so mundane to help him come to terms with all the weird things that had happened!
He blinked a few times and then once more he recognized Boston from the many times that he had played there in the past as a country and western singer but what made the whole thing even weirder was the date on a newspaper he picked up from a passing newsboy. It confirmed the date he had read on the construction sign.
“Somehow, I’ve traveled from 1987 to 1888 and of course the city is full of horse drawn wagons instead of cars! The clothes are different too but my cowboy duds make me look somewhat normal although most folks here are dressed like city slickers!”
The Vigilante nodded slowly and pushed his white cowboy hat up and away from his face and lowered his bandana. He had no need to protect his secret identity in this era. Secret identity! He had adopted the role as the Vigilante in 1959 to avenge the murder of his lawman father. Prior to that pivotal moment in his young life he had been a country and western singer in New York who seldom used the Western skills he had been taught by the elder Sanders. From that moment in 1959 onward, he had led a double life as a Prairie Troubadour and a crime fighter!
“Pop hasn’t even been born yet. I guess Grandpa is alive somewhere out West. He was a sheriff too and a scout for the Army!”
He moved swiftly away from the street and ducked behind the construction site and leaned against a narrow fence out of public view.
He had barely glanced around the city and looked at the paper when he heard a voice in his head. It was unsettling to say the least. Greg sort of “saw” the fellow who was talking to him in his thoughts. He visualized a powerful looking man dressed like some kind of noble king from some African nation! Something about him calmed Greg down and made what he’d experienced seem like just another ride through the park!
“Vigilante! I am known as Dr. Mist! I know of your plight and will return you to your proper era; however, I have need of your services! I need you to join some others with gifts of their own in a crusade to eliminate a deadly evil being that stalks these streets and kills as he pleases!”
The Vigilante said, “I’ll do what I can to help! I always have tried to do the right thing. I’m not going to stop now! How did I end up here though?”
Dr. Mist said, “It is sufficient for me to say that you were revived from near death and brought here by someone who had the means to do so but he is of no significance to either of us. You should consider yourself fortunate enough to have a second chance at life! Some would say this means this means you should give back more to the living than those less blessed!”
The Vigilante frowned as he recalled a time in the late sixties in which he had given up his heroic role out of despair that his personal fortune had been tied up in a complicated lawsuit necessitated by the dealings of a crooked manager. He had also felt useless in a world that contained beings like Superman and the Green Lantern! He had taken a job as a night watchman and had assumed his days of heroism and of musical fame were behind him.
“Never gonna give in to those feelings again! I’m going to fight for justice as long as I’m breathing!” he vowed.
He gasped as a vivid image filled his thoughts. He saw a Boston neighborhood and the front of a stately building and realized the mysterious Dr. Mist was directing him to go there at once!
“I saw the First Reformers Bank and some fancy houses. I saw a distinguished looking black man but I can’t say I recall ever seeing his picture in the history books!” he thought.
He knew the historic bank was located near Beacon Hill where many prominent families had luxurious homes.
“I guess he wants me to stop some kind of bank robbery but then again he surely didn’t seem like the kind of fella who would bother with something like an ordinary hold-up!” he thought.
He hesitated for a moment and made his way toward one of the first banks in America to be chartered entirely by former slaves. It was late afternoon and business seemed brisk as customers arrived and exited.
“Folks are eager to get their errands done and get home before closing time. I guess things never change!” he said.
As he approached the steep steps that led upward to the bank, shadows lengthened as the sun slowly went down.
He watched for a few minutes and then he spotted the respectable looking man from his vision. He was a tall black man with graying hair and a slight limp. He wore a dark suit made of a coarse but well-made material. A gaunt looking younger man who clearly worked as his assistant or secretary followed him closely and the Vigilante heard him address his employer as Mr. Chappelle.
“Chappelle? I just don’t know that name but if he needs my help he’ll get it!”
“I’m drawing too much attention gaping at everyone! I suppose I can follow them without being seen once we get into the more rural area!” he mused.
He relaxed slightly as the old man and his aide entered a carriage and drove off toward a more leafy and rural part of the old neighborhood. Fine houses rose up on each side and narrow streets led off from each side to more secluded private gardens.
The Vigilante slipped through the night and approached one particular home as the two men left their carriage in the hands of a stableman and entered the residence.
The Vigilante stepped closer to the large window that dominated one side of the house and peered into a well-decorated sitting room lined with books and well-cared for furnishings.
At that moment he was struck from behind by a lovely black woman who had approached him without making a sound. He was surprised for more reasons than one since he was a skilled tracker and had uncanny hearing. It was very hard to sneak up on the Vigilante.
He rolled forward from the impact and frowned again as he wondered just how strong this seemingly delicate beauty was. She had large expressive eyes and a confident manner. Her dress was made of an expensive fabric and the style was elegant.
“You have no business here! You have no lawful business here!” she said.
Her voice was clear but accented and he realized she was one of the many immigrants who lived in this 9th ward of the exclusive neighborhood.
“I don’t mean any harm! I can explain!” he said but she suddenly leaped through the air and connected with a kick that knocked him backward.
He noticed she wore no jewelry except for a small amulet around her neck. It was shaped like the head of a small animal- possibly a fox.
“You are not the first white man to try to kill Representative Chappelle! It pains you to see an African-American hold such a high office in your American government!” she said.
“Or have you been hired by the Zambesi rebels who would stop my people from their progress. You are too late. I have already given the money we raised to invest and Julius Caesar Chappelle is a wise and careful businessman. He will help our nation grow in many ways with his shrewd investments!”
The Vigilante jumped back to his feet and whirled his lasso in one swift movement. He snared the agile woman but she laughed and dodged the rope in moments.
Before he could do more than dodge her next attack, the Vigilante saw a newcomer through the window. A tall, balding man with gray hair on each temple and a strange expression of malice on his face moved into the sitting room and casually caught the secretary from behind and snapped his neck with one sickening motion.
As Julius Caesar Chappelle gasped in shock and dropped a silver wine decanter from his hand the eerie men drew closer and smiled in a cruel manner.
His clothing was elegant if old fashioned and he wore a brown topcoat over his suit. He moved gracefully but his movements also seemed predatory in nature.
The Vigilante moved closer but the woman he had been battling moved faster. She crashed through the window and rolled acrobatically to block the newcomer’s path!
He did not seem overly concerned about her obvious skills but his smiled grew broader and his eyes gleamed with a malevolence that the Vigilante could feel even from out on the lawn.
“My name is Judge Kobold and I am afraid I must end your illustrious career Mr. Chappelle. You have made enemies and while it pains me to admit it, I am in need of funds. They have paid me to kill you!” he announced as calmly as if he was merely ordering a meal.
Chappelle stared at the weird figure in horror but made no effort to escape. He was frozen in fear.
The woman charged at the mysterious villain who moved slightly faster and knocked her across the room with an astonishingly swift blow.
As the Vigilante jumped through the broken window the grinning man turned toward him to reveal a pair of fangs.
“You’re a vampire and not the first I’ve fought either!” declared the Vigilante as he whirled his lasso at the monstrous killer.
The balding vampire laughed as the rope sailed to one side and snagged on something.
“My aim is better than yours!” he said as he reached out one hand toward the cowboy hero.
The Vigilante strained and pulled the lasso toward him even as the vampire closed in on him.
His strength was amazing and the Vigilante had little hope of breaking his powerful grip as his hand closed around his throat.
Still, the Vigilante struggled with his lasso and sighed in relief as the vampire suddenly stiffened and released his hold on the hero.
Splinters of wood protruded from his chest as he collapsed at the Vigilante’s feet.
“You impaled him with the stairwell spokes!” said a suddenly alert Julius Chappelle.
The Vigilante nodded and said, “Like I said, he wasn’t my first vampire!”
He turned to help the woman to her feet and she thanked him profusely.
“I misjudged you! My name is Awari Jiwe and I came here on a mission for the people of Zambesi. We wish to invest with Mr. Chappelle and we knew he would act with honor for our small nation. I knew some would oppose my efforts but in the past the Tantu totem I wear has always been enough to protect me. It gives me the powers of the animal kingdom!” she said.
Mr. Chappelle said, “I shall do my best for you! I was born into slavery but have achieved some success as a state legislator and investment banker. You may rely on me. I also owe you my thanks!”
The Vigilante shook hands with him and said, “I am glad I was here. You pack quite a punch, Miss Jiwe!”
As they talked, they failed to notice the vampire remove the wood from his heart and rise to his feet. As moonlight bathed the room, he transformed into a hairy creature and howled in rage.
He pounced at the others in his werewolf form and the Vigilante switched loaded and fired his gun!
The startled creature fell to the ground in shock!
“Silver bullets. I always carry a few. You see I fought a couple werewolves in my time too. Sure never ran into a polecat who was both a vampire and a werewolf though!”
At that moment the Vigilante vanished from the room and found himself drawn back to the year 1988! He chalked up the jump from is last known day in 1987 to another weird cosmic effect he might never understand.
He realized he was home and thought, “I guess my work was done. I don’t know if that Judge Kobold was truly destroyed or not. His kind have a way of coming back but I suppose Doctor Mist didn’t need me for anything else. True to his word, he sent me back to my own time. Something tells me I was sent there more to keep Mr. Chappelle and Miss Jiwe alive. Both of them may have some right important things to do with the rest of their lives or maybe their young’uns will do big things!”
After a heartfelt reunion with his nephew Michael “Swashbuckler” Carter in his Texas mansion, Greg Sanders told his story to the amazed young man.
Swashbuckler said, “I have to stop you for a minute. I’m thrilled that you’re alive. You know when some of us that you’d trained over the years thought you were dead, we planned to use the fortune you’d left us to set up a team of Texas based heroes and train young would be heroes. We formed the team but gave a lot of the money to the Guardian who was planning to open his own school for heroes in New England. See, Bat Shaman, Mighty Eagle, and the others didn’t exact gel as a team. All of them were loners!”
Vigilante said, “I should have known that. I’m still proud to hear my money will be used for what I wanted. I wanted to help the next generation of “white hats” become heroes. The Guardian is a good man and a friend of mine. He’ll do right with the cash!”
Swashbuckler said, “We can still get your money back. I mean you’ve got estate royalties from your music coming in annually!”
The Vigilante took his nephew by the arm and said, “It’s okay. Mike, I don’t need all that stuff. A while back I had a crooked manager and my money got tied up in a lawsuit. I even had to find work as a night watchman. I was low and gave up my crimefightin career for a time too. The JLA met me and kinda motivated me to give it another try. Eventually, the court business was resolved and I got my money back but I never really was in the music business for money or fame. I just liked singing and playing my guitar. Truth is, none of that show biz stuff meant as much to be as being the Vigilante! I can keep on doing that and see some of country anew with an occasional check or two from those royalties you were talking about! If folks ask, I’ll tell them I’m a Greg Sanders impersonator!”
Swashbuckler said, “I don’t get it. You just got back through some miracle and you want to leave again?”
Vigilante said, “It ain’t exactly like that. I’m real glad to see you. I’m proud of the man you’ve become. We’ll have plenty of time together too but I do have a craving to ride around on my cycle and help folks out when I can. I feel like I’m one of them Challengers of the Unknown fellas in the sense that I’m living on borrowed time. I got another chance to do something with my life and I can’t sit around this mansion.”
He said, “Plus, there’s something that’s been troubling me ever since you told me about how you and my other protégés tried to carry out the terms of my will. What about Stuff Jr.? I named him in the will too!”
Mike Carter said, “I don’t know. I mean I know your first sidekick back in the fifties and sixties was nicknamed Stuff and after his murder, you took in his son Daniel Leong Jr. but like you said, he didn’t turn up for the reading of the will. It was like he just vanished. We tried to find him but had no luck at all!”
Vigilante said, “I know he can take care of himself but I’m going to look for him. I owe him plenty and I want to make sure he’s okay!”
Mike Carter said, “I can hardly believe you’re alive and well! What other plans do you have?”
Vigilante grinned and said, “Well, like Elvis put it, “I got a lot of livin’ to do!”
The End