The Superhero's Cure

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The Superhero's Cure Page 6

by Lucas Flint


  I tapped Red Tide on the shoulder and said, “Hey, I want to talk to you.”

  Red Tide suddenly looked over his shoulder at me. Up close, he smelled worse than ever, like a combination of alcohol and wet animal fur, of all things. Now I understood why those women at his side looked so blank. It was probably all they could do not to look at Red Tide with the disgust he deserved.

  “Eh?” said Red Tide with a slight hiccup. “Who are you, young lad?”

  Oddly enough, he had a Scottish accent, but I ignored that in order to say, “My friend and I here want to join your crew.”

  Red Tide hiccuped again. “Say that again, boy. Didn’t quite catch it.”

  I sighed, but said again, in a clearer voice, “My friend and I here want to join your—”

  Red Tide suddenly punched me in the gut. Despite my super strength, the blow made me double over, although it was more out of surprise than anything. I hadn’t expected Red Tide to hit me like that, or so hard and fast. Perhaps he wasn’t as drunk as he looked.

  “Piss off, boy,” said Red Tide with a snort. “I’m not looking for hired help at the moment and am perfectly happy with me crew. Perhaps you can go and harass one of the other pirate captains for a job. I hear old One-Leg Johnny is looking for a punching bag.”

  The rest of Red Tide’s crew exploded into laughter, aside from the Japanese man, who merely sipped his water politely.

  Scowling and feeling more than a bit embarrassed, I stood upright again and said, “No. My friend and I want to join your crew. I know we don’t look like much, but we’re not going to turn around just because you said no.”

  “So you won’t take no for an answer then, eh?” said Red Tide. He gulped down another glass of beer in one go and then burped. “All righty, then. You look like a strong young man, as does your silent friend. How about a duel?”

  “A what?” I said.

  “A duel, matey,” said Red Tide. “Not with me, of course, but with one of me crewmates. If you can defeat a member of my crew in a one-on-one fight, then I will let you and your friend join my crew.”

  I glanced at Fingerprints behind me in disbelief before looking at Red Tide again. “You’re not serious, are you?”

  “I’m perfectly serious, lad,” said Red Tide with another hiccup. “’Tis what all members of me crew have to do before they join. I don’t take no weaklings on my ship. If you want to serve me, you have to prove you can keep up with the rest of us.”

  I bit my lower lip, but at the same time, I couldn’t say no. I was pretty sure I was strong enough to take on any and all of Red Tide’s men, even if I held back. Plus, if I walked away from this, we wouldn’t get another chance to get onto his ship again, so I had no choice but to accept it.

  “All right,” I said. “I’ll duel anyone you want. How does that sound?”

  “Perfect, me boy,” said Red Tide. He suddenly rose from his chair, shoving aside the two women on either side of him at the same time. “Now, let’s take this outside. I want to give my fighter as much room to fight as possible. And with luck, this whole silly duel will be over in time for more drinks.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Less than ten minutes later, Fingerprints, myself, and Red Tide and his crew stood outside the Dead Man’s Inn. We stood on the boardwalk near the ships, a good distance from the inn itself, although not so far that I couldn’t hear the shouts and singing coming from the drunks within. A warm wind blew off the ocean just then, bringing with it the stink of Red Tide, algae, and old ships covered in both.

  Red Tide’s crew had formed a loose circle around me, Fingerprints, and Red Tide. Although none of them had their weapons drawn, quite a few carried large, burning torches that helped to illuminate the makeshift battlefield that we had turned the boardwalk into. Despite the lack of weapons, I could sense that Red Tide’s crew were all ready to make sure that neither Fingerprints nor myself tried to make a run for it.

  Behind me, Fingerprints stood with his hands in his pockets. Although he looked calm and collected, I knew he was still annoyed at me for going against his advice and getting us into this situation. I understood that Fingerprints, as a spy, preferred stealth and subterfuge over open confrontation, but he didn’t understand that sometimes the direct way was the best way to solve a problem. Besides, Red Tide struck me as the kind of guy who respected a man who just came up to him and made it clear what he wanted, although I still kept a careful eye on the supervillain anyway just to be safe.

  Red Tide himself stood opposite me, his massive arms folded in front of his chest. Under the shadows cast by the torches, Red Tide’s appearance looked far more demonic, especially with the amused smirk on his thick, crusty lips.

  “Are you ready to get started, lad?” said Red Tide, tilting his head to the side in a mocking way when he spoke. “Because I’m getting tired of waiting and want to get this silliness over as soon as possible.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready,” I said. “I’m always ready, actually. I’ll take on anyone you’ve got. I’m not afraid.”

  Red Tide chuckled. “Strong words coming from such a young brat. But very well. Richard!”

  At first, I didn’t know who ‘Richard’ was until a hulking monster of a man stepped out from the loose circle and walked up next to Red Tide. He was an absolutely massive man whose muscles looked more like carved rock than human flesh, with a large, lopsided grin on his big face. He was bigger than Red Tide and me by at least a foot and probably heavier than the two of us put together.

  He was also, unfortunately, the same guy who had tried to kill me back in the bar after Alisha accidentally spilled beer on him. And based on the way he glared at me, I could tell that he hadn’t forgotten that.

  “Young lad, meet Richard,” said Red Tide, gesturing at the huge man standing beside him. “Richard, meet, um … boy, what’s your name?”

  “Charles,” I said, using the false name which Fingerprints and I had agreed on prior to coming here. “Charles Reynolds.”

  “Right,” said Red Tide. “Charles Reynolds. But I understand that you’ve met him already.”

  “Yeah,” said Richard with a rumbling voice. “I know him. Which is why I can’t wait to punch his stupid little face in.”

  “Don’t worry, Dick, you’ll soon get a chance to do that,” said Red Tide, patting Richard on the back. “But first, I need to establish the rules of the duel, seeing as little Charles here doesn’t know what they are. Right, boy?”

  I nodded, although I hated the condescending way he spoke about me. I didn’t say that aloud, however, because I needed to avoid annoying Red Tide as much as possible if I was going to get onto his crew.

  “Then let me begin,” said Red Tide. “The rules of the Pirate Duel are very simple: Two combatants step into the ring together. The first to be knocked out of the ring or to surrender is the loser. So if you want to win, both of you, then you need to either knock the other guy out of the ring or make him surrender.”

  “What about fighting to the death?” Richard said in his booming voice. “Can we do that?”

  “Killing is certainly allowed,” said Red Tide without missing a beat. “Killing your opponent in cold blood is a perfectly valid victory condition, but it’s not necessary in order to win. I would recommend doing it, however, because allowing your enemy to live after you gave them such a thorough beating is always a bad idea in the long run, but that’s just me.”

  I gulped. I could see the glee in Richard’s eyes at the idea that murder was allowed here. Now I was starting to understand why Fingerprints had wanted to approach Red Tide in a different manner, but it was too late for me to step out of this now. I would have to just do my best.

  “Also, powers are perfectly acceptable,” Red Tide continued. “If you are a superhuman, then you can use whatever powers you have to help you win. Are you a superhuman, boy?”

  Remembering the story Fingerprints and I had agreed to, I said, “No, I’m not.”

  The reason I lied about that
was because my superpowers were pretty distinctive. Fingerprints had stressed that we should avoid drawing unnecessary attention to ourselves and so using our powers was out of the question for now. Then again, it seemed to me that we had already drawn a lot of unnecessary attention to ourselves, so maybe using my powers wouldn’t be that big a deal. Better to be safe than sorry, at least.

  “Oh, boy,” said Red Tide with a chuckle. “You have truly dug your own grave, boy, but I won’t ruin the surprise for you. Just know that Richard here is a superhuman, but I’m not going to tell you what his powers are out of respect for his privacy.”

  I scowled. Red Tide clearly wanted me to lose and not telling me Richard’s powers was a good way to ensure that. But I wasn’t entirely useless. I had been doing a lot of powerless training recently, and I did have my foldable pole staff with me, so I would just have to rely on that and hope that would be enough against whatever powers Richard had.

  “Now that we have that out of the way, let the duel begin!” Red Tide cried out, taking a step back to join the loose circle.

  As soon as Red Tide said that, I rolled my pole staff out of the sleeve of my coat and rushed toward Richard. As I ran, I extended the staff, which I swung directly at Richard’s head, aiming to get in a good head shot and hopefully take him out before he got a chance to use his powers.

  But right before my staff hit the side of his head, Richard vanished into thin air. Surprised, I staggered forward, nearly losing my balance before I found my footing and looked around, turning around in a complete circle several times as I said, “Where is he? Where did he go?”

  “He’s right behind ya, boy!” Red Tide shouted.

  Puzzled, I looked over my shoulder, but I didn’t see anything. But then something I couldn’t see slammed into the small of my back and I fell flat on my stomach. With a gasp, I let go of my pole staff. I tried to reach for it, but at that moment, Richard reappeared on my back and grabbed the top of my head with one of his hands and pulled back. I could feel the strain on my neck as Richard pulled my head back, forcing me to look up into his eyes as the huge man grinned up at me.

  “Oh, if only you had your girlfriend to splash some of that beer onto me, boy,” said Richard with a chuckle even deeper than Red Tide’s, “’cause then your spine might not get snapped in two tonight.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Panic flooded through me as I realized that Richard was trying to snap my neck by pulling back on it unnaturally. The only reason he hadn’t succeeded yet was because my body was naturally stronger than most, but it wouldn’t be long before he put enough pressure on it to snap it.

  Instinctively, I gave myself just enough super strength to push up. That sudden movement made Richard let go of my neck and roll off my body, but I didn’t look at him. I just grabbed my pole staff and jumped to my feet, whirling around to begin laying the smack down on his fat face.

  But when I turned around, Richard was missing again.

  “Dang it,” I said, looking this way and that again. “Where the hell is he? Can he turn invisible?”

  “No,” said Richard behind me suddenly. “But good guess.”

  Richard’s huge, tree-trunk-like arms wrapped around me and lifted me off my feet. Richard squeezed me up against his chest so hard that I couldn’t even breathe.

  “Let’s see how long it takes for your spine to snap,” said Richard in a strained voice in my ear. “Probably only a few minutes before it—”

  With a grunt, I lashed out with one of my legs and kicked him in the knee. That hurt Richard enough to loosen his hold on me, so I broke free of his grasp and fell to my feet. Once again, I whirled around to slam my pole staff into him, but like before, he was gone even before I realized it, my pole staff hitting nothing but the empty air where he had once stood less than a second ago.

  Laughter and jeers erupted from the circle around me. Red Tide’s crew seemed to be having the time of their lives, pointing and laughing at me for no reason that I could discern other than Richard was embarrassing me.

  “Oh, man,” said one of Red Tide’s crewmates, a skinny man with a long beard, “I love watching Tiny fight! He always knows how to put on a good show.”

  Tiny? Was that his supervillain name? Odd name for a guy his size. It didn’t seem to relate to his powers from what I could tell. As far as I could tell, Richard had some guy of invisibility, or possibly teleportation powers. Tiny didn’t imply any of that, unless …

  Unless Richard couldn’t actually turn invisible. If Richard couldn’t actually turn invisible, then that meant that I was completely misinterpreting his powers. Yet what sort of powers allowed Richard to appear and disappear, seemingly at will, other than invisibility and teleportation?

  “Charles, look out!” Fingerprints cried suddenly.

  I jumped to the side just as Tiny’s massive arms came out of nowhere again to hug me. Tiny, who apparently hadn’t been expecting that, staggered forward, allowing me to whirl around and slam my pole staff into the side of his head.

  But right before my blow could connect, Tiny vanished before my eyes.

  No, he didn’t vanish into thin air like a ghost. As I watched, he actually seemed to shrink, his head becoming so small that I soon couldn’t see it at all. In fact, it wasn’t just his head that shrank, but his whole body, until soon I was all by myself in the middle of the circle again, only now I knew I wasn’t alone at all. Tiny was still here, but he was just too small to see.

  “Neat trick, Tiny,” I said, my eyes darting along the ground at my feet as I searched for him. “But I’ve got your powers figured out now. You’re a size-changer. You can become as small as an ant and then as big as a person at will. Am I right?”

  “Right you are, boy,” said Red Tide suddenly, making me look over my shoulder at him. He had one of his girls with him, his arm draped over her shoulder as he drank from another big frothing mug of beer. “Tiny here can become as small as he wants. Very useful power, especially for sneaking into high-security places … or kicking the butts of stupid kids who pay more attention to the peanut gallery than the actual fight.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, Tiny blew up underneath me. He grew big fast enough to slam into my stomach, sending me flying straight up into the air on impact.

  My body wanted to activate my flight powers before I fell, but I resisted and allowed myself to fall down straight toward Tiny, who caught me in his hands and threw me onto the ground as hard as a bag of ice. Jarred by the impact, I tried to get up, only for Tiny’s boot to come out of nowhere and hit me in the gut and knock the air out of me.

  That prompted even more laughter from the audience, as well as a few insults that definitely weren’t family-friendly. Despite that, however, my attention wasn’t on the audience, but on Tiny. I was getting tired of being beaten by him because he could use his powers and I couldn’t. Time to put that powerless training into action.

  Tiny lashed out at me with another kick, but I rolled away at the last second and his huge boot missed me by a mile. Getting to my feet, I whirled around and slammed my pole staff, not into his head, but into the small of his back, which he left completely undefended.

  A loud crack broke the air as my staff connected with Tiny’s back. The blow actually sent Tiny staggering forward and he even cried out in pain. I moved forward to hit him once more, but then Tiny shrank again and I couldn’t see him anymore.

  “Hey, Tiny, where did you go?” I said, looking this way and that for any sign of Tiny. “Are you afraid of me now or something? You seemed so confident earlier. I know six-year-old girls who handle pain better than you.”

  The mood in the audience had shifted. Now Red Tide’s crew was looking at me with a mixture of shock and disbelief. I guess Tiny must rarely get hit, which made sense because his powers were extremely useful for dodging most attacks. But I was playing for keeps now and it was only a matter of time before Tiny decided to return to his original size in an attempt to take me out.

 
Without warning, Tiny grew back to his original size behind me and grabbed at me with his hands. But I was expecting that. I ducked under his massive arms and slammed my pole staff into Tiny’s bulging belly. Tiny roared in pain again before shrinking again, but I could tell even before he disappeared that he wasn’t going to waste time anymore. He was angry now and angry people had a tendency to make really stupid mistakes. I just had to hope he was going to make the mistake I knew he was going to make. It was going to be tough, but—

  Suddenly, I heard movement behind me. Without thinking or hesitation, I whirled around and saw Tiny growing back to his normal size. Time seemed to slow down around me as I watched Tiny go from being barely visible to being the size of a six-year-old boy to reaching the size of a twelve-year-old, which was when I acted.

  Gripping my pole staff firmly, I brought it directly down on Tiny’s not fully grown head. A loud snap echoed off the water as my pole connected with his skull. Tiny instantly collapsed onto the ground, his eyes rolled into the back of his head even as his body finished growing back to its normal size. An ugly dent in the shape of my pole stood out on his head, while blood leaked out of both of his ears and his nose. Yet he didn’t get up or even move.

  A stunned silence fell over the assembled members of Red Tide’s crew. Some of them were looking at Tiny with disbelief etched on their features, but most of them were looking at me with a mixture of surprise and even fear. I guess none of them had expected me to defeat Tiny. Even Fingerprints looked more surprised than relieved by my actions, like he couldn’t believe it, either.

  The only person in the circle who didn’t seem surprised was Red Tide. The girl under his arm was gone, replaced instead by two frothing mugs of beers. Red Tide downed both of them in one go before tossing the now-empty mugs aside and striding up to me, a strange, evil-looking smile on his face as he approached me.

 

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