Hero Force United Boxed Set 1

by Baron Sord

  I cringed, “I’m not doing that.”

  “Are you kidding?” Arnold laughed. “Of course you’re doing it! Don’t you see? It’s a coffin for a fire vampire, and that fire vampire is you, Doug!” He grinned, clearly in love with the idea.

  Him saying that reminded me of Ice Statue Sully. I had heat-vampired him to death. Calling this a fire coffin was apt, but I wasn’t calling it that. Bad memories. I said, “Heph, did you build this?”

  “Yeah. You were talking about wanting something better than the oxy-fuel torch to cook yourself. This is it.” He whacked the side of the huge steel tube and it reverberated with a hollow ringing. “Fabricated it from a 500 gallon propane tank.”

  “The tank looks brand new,” I said. “How much did it cost?”

  Heph shrugged, “$250. Got it from a buddy of mine. Never been used.”

  “I don’t have any cash to pay you back right now. It could be a while until I do.”

  Heph waved a hand, “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you climb inside? See if it gets the job done.”

  Despite my invulnerability to fire, the idea of crawling into a crematorium furnace made my skin crawl, no matter what Arnold called it.

  “Don’t worry, Doug,” Arnold said. “If Heph tries to burn you alive, I’ll shoot him with my Glock.”

  “You didn’t bring your Glock,” I grumbled.

  “Yeah I did. It’s in the car. I want to do some target practice while we’re out here.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…” he rolled his head like I was an idiot, “I need to be sharp for our next mission.”

  “You’re not going on my next mission.”

  “Our mission. After I heal up, of course.”

  “Sure,” I lied. Now that I’d had some time to think about it, and had watched Arnold crutching around like an invalid for weeks, I had no intention of bringing him back into the middle of danger. Never again.

  Heph thumped the tank ominously, “Care to step inside?”

  I chuckled nervously, “Why not? What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Arnold said, “You could lose your powers while you’re inside and turn into Doug-burger.”

  “Really?” Heph chuckled. “Could that happen?”

  “Nah,” Arnold said.

  What did he know? There was no telling when I might lose my powers. It could happen any time, same as how I’d gained them. I glared at Arnold, “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

  Arnold chuckled, “You won’t lose your powers. You won’t. Promise.”

  I scowled, “Saying it twice and promising doesn’t mean it won’t happen.”

  “Would you relax?” Arnold groaned. “You’ve been super-powered for like two months with no sign of slowing down.”

  “Okay, but you both better be ready to shut this thing down and open the hatch if I start screaming.”

  “We will,” Heph said.

  I started stripping down.

  “What are you doing, you nudist?” Arnold chuckled.

  “My clothes aren’t going to last in the forge.”

  Heph said, “I’ve been thinking about that. You should get a proximity suit. One for advanced fire entry. They’ll reflect radiant heat up to 3000 degrees.”

  “I’d have to wear it inside out.”

  “Yeah,” Heph chuckled. “Cause you’re the heat source.”

  “Exactly,” I grinned.

  Arnold asked, “Do the suits look cool?”

  “Pretty much like an aluminum space suit,” Heph said. “You ever see those guys covered from head to toe in silver with those big bucket helmets going into volcanos? That’s them.”

  “Those? Those are lame!” Arnold chortled. “They look so dorky.”

  “You could just get the pants,” Heph suggested.

  I said, “All I really need are shorts that won’t burn off. I don’t need them to protect me.”

  Heph said, “Then you could probably strip the cotton liner out and cut the proximity pants down to length.”

  “Silver shorts?” Arnold said. “And nothing else? That might be pretty badass if the rest of you is on fire.”

  “Where do I get them?” I asked.

  “Proximity pants?” Heph said.

  “Yeah.”

  “With the suit. You get it direct from HeaTex.”

  “Any idea how much they cost?” I asked.

  “Three grand, easy.”

  “For shorts?”

  “The whole suit. Don’t know if they sell pants separate. You could ask.”

  I snorted, “What do pants cost? One grand? I can’t afford that either.”

  Arnold smiled, “Unless you get them to endorse you.”

  “Who, HeaTex?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “Why would they do that?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Arnold chuckled. “Imagine how cool it would be for them to have you on their website or their catalog? Flying out of the cover all on fire and shit. Or in a video. You’d need a great tagline. Something like, Not even Wildfire can burn through our suits.”

  Heph was grinning and nodding at the idea, “I’d buy one of those.”

  Arnold said, “See, Doug? I bet they’d give you a pair of shorts for free if you did a catalog cover for them and a video.”

  I sighed, “Nobody knows who I am. Or what I can do. Everyone is still calling me the Masked Jumper.”

  Arnold cut in, “Because we haven’t done a press conference.”

  I ignored him and said, “We could go to the HeaTex offices today, and I could set myself on fire in front of the company president, but why would they care?”

  Arnold’s eyes lit up, “That’s not a bad idea!”

  “What?”

  Arnold laughed, “Setting yourself on fire in front of the HeaTex company president!”

  “That’s a terrible idea,” I frowned. “They’ll think I’m committing suicide. It’s morbid. What I meant was, you have to be famous to get an endorsement.”

  Arnold shook his head impatiently, “That’s why we have to make you famous, Doug. No more Masked Jumper. You have to go public as Wildfire. We have to go public. Wildfire and the Machinist in the fricking hizzy, bizzies!” He punched one of his crutches in the air and winced. “Ow.”

  “And what,” I chuckled, “you’ll be on the AutoZone website as the Machinist?”

  “Damn right,” Arnold laughed. “And Heph here can be on the cover of Welder’s Monthly. That’s a thing, right?”

  “No,” Heph smirked.

  “Then we’ll publish it! Heph, you can be the editor in chief!” Arnold loved to dream.

  “How about you get that started while Doug tries out the fire coffin?” Heph nodded toward it.

  “Sure,” I said. “You don’t have a proximity suit handy, do you?”

  “No, but you know what? I have an old pair of aluminized carbon pants around here somewhere. You know, splatter pants. For welding. You could try those for now.”

  “Okay. Can you get them so I can put them on before getting into the forge?”

  “Nah,” Heph said. “The forge’ll vaporize the pants.”

  Arnold said, “I thought you said the suits could take 3000 degrees?”

  “That’s the proximity suit, and that’s radiant heat,” Heph said. “Not direct contact. My splatter pants aren’t rated for anything close to 3000. They’re for stopping slag splatter, not volcano diving. Doug, how hot does your skin get when you’re gassed up like you were last time?”

  “My skin? I’ve never measured it. But if I’m concentrating and not holding too much heat, I think I can keep it down around 400 Fahrenheit.” I was guesstimating based on the melting temperature of nylon car seats — which was 428 degrees F — because I had melted a few of those already.

  “That’ll be fine. My pants are rated for 450 direct. Put the pants on after you get out of the tank.” He slapped the tank and smiled, obviously proud of his handiwork. “Hop in already.”
/>   I stripped down.

  Arnold chuckled, “Ding dong, your dork is dangling.”

  Heph laughed.

  I pretended not to hear them and reluctantly climbed inside the fire coffin.

  Heph handed me a metal flint striker. “Use this to ignite the flame once I turn the gas on. You’ll want to toss it out the exhaust port once the propane is lit so it doesn’t melt.”

  “There’s not a lot of elbow room in here, is there?” Now that I was inside, it definitely felt like a coffin. All I could do was lay there.

  “Don’t want to let any more heat escape than we have to.”

  “Right.” I didn’t want to ask what I was supposed to do if I needed to escape. “How am I supposed to throw the striker out?”

  “Kick it out with your foot.”

  “Will do.”

  He closed the hatch with a clank and cranked it shut above my head. The exhaust port at my feet was four inches in diameter. Far too small to crawl out if I needed to escape. I reminded myself if things got too hot, I could tear the steel apart in an emergency. Assuming I didn’t suddenly lose my super strength at the crucial moment.

  “You ready for the propane?” Heph asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, as soon as you hear the gas flowing from the valve in the top of the tank, hold the striker up to it and light it right away. Don’t wanna blow this thing up.”

  “Right. Oh, uh, how do we get enough oxygen in here?”

  “There’s vent holes all around the torch valve. That’ll keep the flame going.”

  “I meant for me to breathe.”

  Heph chuckled, “Hadn’t thought of that. Why don’t you climb out and turn around? Put your head facing the exhaust hole?”

  “Good idea.” It took a minute for Heph to open the hatch and me to flip myself around. “I can set up a shop fan and blow air in if that’ll help.”

  “Can you?”

  “Sure.” It took a minute for him to set it up. That done, he closed the hatch and hollered, “Ready for the gas?”

  “Go for it!” I took a deep breath (didn’t want to inhale the propane) and heard squeaking followed by the hiss of propane.

  I clicked the striker and it sparked.

  PHOOMPH!

  The valve wheel squeaked some more, increasing the flow of propane. An orange jet blasted to life over my stomach. The high pressure gas felt like a warm air shower.

  I immediately started pulling the heat into my body. I also closed my eyes to monitor my TGV. Saw my Freeze Sphere slowly expanding out of the tank and down into the ground. No reason not to tap the nearly limitless desert heat while I was here.

  “How you doing in there?” Arnold hollered near the exhaust port.

  “Just fine. You should try it,” I joked.

  “Yeah, right. How long are you gonna stay in?”

  “As long as I can stand it.”

  —: Chapter 43 :—

  Two hours later, Heph stuck his face near the exhaust port and hollered, “You ready to come out yet?!”

  “Actually,” I laughed, “it’s pretty damn relaxing in here. I think I fell asleep at some point.”

  “Nice.”

  I closed my eyes to check on my TGV.

  No. Fricking. Way.

  It looked like it had expanded outward almost two hundred yards in diameter.

  Yards.

  That was almost 5x more heat than I’d ever collected out here, and that was only counting heat from the ground, not the fire coffin. That was incredible. What concerned me was the size of my Freeze Sphere. It had engulfed all the ground under the small complex of buildings where Heph worked and lived.

  “Hey, Heph?” I asked carefully.

  “Yeah?”

  “What kind of water and sewage lines do you have out here at the hangar?”

  “None. I’m on a septic system and gotta 5000 gallon cistern buried underground. I gotta truck water out here every month or two to fill it.”

  “What about electrical?”

  “Mix of gas generators and solar panels. I’m off the grid, man.”

  “Good. Because I think I froze the ground under the entire area.”

  “You what?!” he laughed.

  “The water in your cistern might be frozen too.”

  “It’ll thaw. Unless you froze the water I keep in the kitchen, we should be good to go.”

  “Where do you keep that water?”

  “In jugs. Got about ten gallons stored on wood shelves. I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “Can you check the cistern for me?” I chuckled guiltily. “I may need to thaw it for you before I leave.”

  “Sure,” he chuckled.

  “Check the jugs too, just in case.”

  “Yeppers. Be right back.” Minutes later, he laughed, “Damn, man! The cistern’s frozen solid! I hope you didn’t crack the damn thing!”

  “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Heph.”

  “Don’t worry, man. It’s sturdy plastic and it was only half full. Plenty of room for the water to expand when it froze.”

  “What about the pumping system? Is it going to be okay?”

  “The electric pump should be fine when it thaws. If not, I’ll fix it.”

  “Sorry about that,” I said.

  “No worries. I gotta a backup hand pump. It’ll weather anything you throw at it.”

  “Oh, good. What about the jugs on the shelves?”

  “They’re ice cold, man!” he laughed. “Your Freeze Sphere thing climbed right up the damn wood shelves! Even my windows are frosted over with water condensation! I gotta get you to move your ass out here, man! You put my A/C system to shame!”

  “Nice,” I chuckled.

  “No doubt, man.”

  Arnold suddenly said, “Doug! You froze the whole freaking desert!”

  “Really?” I asked. “I froze it?”

  “So to speak,” Heph laughed. “Outside where it’s shady, the ground is covered in condensation. You think you got enough heat now, man?”

  “Yeah,” I chuckled. “Probably plenty.”

  I didn’t know if it was the slow collection of heat or if my total capacity was increasing, but I didn’t have that painful itching sensation I had gotten from the building fire. My body was vibrating intensely, but it was more manageable somehow, like I’d been able to slowly distribute all the heat evenly throughout my body mass by packing it into my cells somehow, making it a tortoise versus hare situation.

  Or was the total heat I had absorbed now less than the warehouse fire in Oceanside? Hard to say because I didn’t have a measured frame of reference. How much heat energy had I collected from a warehouse fire? How much from a fire coffin and the surrounding desert? These things could be calculated, but that required accurate measurements, which I didn’t have, and I didn’t have time to do the calculus even if I did.

  I said, “What did you guys do while I was kicking back in the coffin?”

  Heph said, “Me and Arnold shot off 500 rounds on his Glock and he’s getting bored plinkin’. We both want to see what you can do with all that heat. How about you show us?”

  “Sure. Why not.”

  It took a minute for Heph to shut down the gas and crank the hatch wheel open. I climbed out.

  “Holy shit!” Heph laughed, throwing up his arm protectively as he backed up. “You’re white hot!”

  “Brighter than last time,” Arnold added from where he stood by the hangar entrance.

  As I moved around, my entire body raged with infernal heat and the heat waves poured off me. Talk about walking Kakatal. I was the Fire Lord in this house.

  Was it possible I held more energy now than I had after the Oceanside fire? If I was, that made this the most heat I had ever held. The feeling of power was overwhelming, like I could burn a hole through the side of a mountain or blow open a volcano if I wanted. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But it felt like it. And that meant a potential radiation nightmare.

  My voice shimmering
with heat, I said, “Hey, Heph. Did you bring the thing?”

  “Thing?” Arnold said suspiciously. He looked between me and Heph and said, “What thing?”

  Heph looked at me nervously, “Uhhh, did you not tell him?”

  Arnold’s head bounced between us, “What thing, Doug?”

  I winced, “Heph, did you get it or not?”

  “I did,” he nodded.

  “What thing, Doug?” Arnold demanded.

  Heph said, “I’ll go get it.” He dug around in the corner of the hangar and walked back holding a plastic box with a metal wand attached to it by a rubber-coated cord.

  Arnold gasped, “A Geiger counter?! Why the hell do you need a Geiger counter, Doug?!”

  There went my theory that Arnold wasn’t easily alarmed. Apparently, radiation poisoning was his Achilles’ Heel. Everyone had their triggers.

  I could already picture myself moving out of the guest house to live elsewhere so Arnold didn’t have to worry. Or maybe I could shield the guest house walls with lead instead, and my food could be delivered to my door by a bomb disposal robot.

  Yeah, right.

  I tried not to cringe as I said, “I’m worried I might be radioactive.”

  The day after the warehouse fire, I had secretly called Heph and asked if he could get a hold of a Geiger counter. Considering he used to work on military weapons, I figured he might have one already, or know someone who did. Turned out he knew someone who knew someone, and promised to have one on hand for today.

  Arnold was pissed. “What the fuck, Doug! Why didn’t you say something?!”

  “I didn’t want to alarm you.” I took a step toward him.

  He grimaced and took a cautious step back on his crutches, “Alarm me? How about fucking warn me?! Are you telling me I’m living in a nuclear reactor with you?”

  “No,” I said. “The house isn’t nuclear. But I might be. But only when I’m charged up with heat. Or…” I didn’t want to say all the time. For all I knew, I emitted low levels of radiation when I was not charged up with heat. Or high levels. I didn’t know either way because I hadn’t checked. I sighed, “I don’t know for sure. It’s just a theory.”

  Arnold was horrified. “A theory?!”

  “Yes. A theory. What do you do with a theory? You test it.”

  Arnold glared at Heph, “So get to testing already. Fuck, this is bad.” While leaning on his crutches and running both hands through his thick hair, he muttered to himself, “I don’t want my teeth falling out. Or my freaking fingernails. Or my freaking hair! Would you guys hurry the fuck up already?”