First War (Minimum Wage Sidekick Book 6)

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First War (Minimum Wage Sidekick Book 6) Page 13

by Lucas Flint


  “Anyway, like I said, Myster and Rubberman led the charge into the factory,” said Cyberkid. He patted himself on the chest. “I was part of that assault, obviously, and—”

  “Wait, Rubberman actually agreed to it?” I said in surprise. “But he’s not a member of Heroes United. Prime Man doesn’t have any authority over him.”

  “Myster is a friend of his,” Cyberkid pointed out. “He agreed to it because he wanted to help my boss, not because Prime Man told him to. But I have to say, Rubberman didn’t look even remotely happy about it. He argued against it even more than Myster and he looked pretty pissed off even after we left to go to the factory. Kind of glad I’m not his sidekick, to be honest.”

  I nodded. I was glad to hear that Rubberman had not simply blindly gone along with Prime Man’s stupid plan. Not that I doubted he would, of course, because Rubberman valued his independence greatly, especially in regards to how he ran his business. Nor did it surprise me that he went along with the plan because he wanted to support his friend; Rubberman also valued his friends highly, so it made sense that he would support Myster even when he had to do something stupid like this.

  “Even though pretty much everyone on the team thought the plan was stupid, there was a general agreement that we might be able to make it work anyway,” said Cyberkid. “I know Myster gave a pep talk about making the best of it, but even so, it didn’t prepare us at all for what happened in the factory when we actually got there.”

  “What happened?” I said. I stepped forward, my eyes locked on Cyberkid.

  “We were ambushed,” said Cyberkid, shaking his head. “And not by the Legion, either.”

  “Not by the Legion?” I said. “Then by who?”

  Cyberkid took a deep breath and then said, slowly but clearly, “By the zombie forces of a supervillain who called herself the Necromantress.”

  Beside me, Frank made a small squeal of fear, while my parents and James exchanged significant looks with one another. I, however, did not look at anyone other than Cyberkid, because I didn’t want to miss even one word of his story.

  “The Necromantress?” I said. “She ambushed everyone?”

  Cyberkid nodded. “Yes. Well, it was really her zombies who did most of the work, but they were under her command and she was probably the one who made up the ambush plan in the first place. She herself was there, though we were too busy fighting for our survival to fight her ourselves.”

  “How many zombies were there?” asked Frank, whose voice was high-pitched with fear. “Hundreds?”

  “I couldn’t count, partly because the ambush happened so fast, partly because the place was so crowded that it was impossible to see more than the few zombies nearest you,” said Cyberkid. “Not that it matters much either way. It sure felt like there were hundreds of zombies in there, even if the actual number was much smaller.”

  In my mind’s eye, I could imagine Rubberman and the other heroes fighting desperately for their lives against a seemingly endless horde of mindless, brain-eating zombies while the Necromantress stood on a platform above them laughing maniacally. It was a disturbing mental image, to be sure, and I didn’t know if it ended with everyone dead or with everyone triumphant.

  I was almost afraid to ask, but I nonetheless said, “What happened to the others? Did they all … did they all die?”

  To my relief, Cyberkid shook his head. “No, at least I don’t think so. We got overwhelmed by the almost endless number of zombies. Myster and I got separated from Rubberman and the others, so I don’t knew the fate of everyone, but I do know that Myster told me to flee when it became clear that we were losing. He told me to go find you and any other help I could find, so I escaped through one of the windows and got here as fast as I could.”

  “So you don’t know if Rubberman, Myster, or any of the others are even still alive?”

  “I don’t.” Cyberkid grimaced and rubbed his bandaged chest. “Last I saw, Myster, at least, was still alive, but I couldn’t see the others. The battle is probably over by now, and given how I haven’t heard anything from Myster or anyone else yet, I think they lost.”

  “Rubberman is dead?” said Frank, his voice still high with fear.

  “I didn’t say that,” said Cyberkid. “He might still be alive. Maybe he managed to escape at the last minute.”

  “I’ve never met this Necromantress lady, but Alex told me she wanted to kill Rubberman,” said James. He looked over at me questioningly. “That’s what you said, right? She’s his ex-wife and has made it her mission to destroy Rubberman. If she managed to ambush him like this, I don’t think she would let him escape or even take him prisoner.”

  What James said made sense; however, I remembered how the Necromantress had spared me and Rubberman back in the graveyard in what seemed like a lifetime ago now, as well as my conversation with Rubberman afterward, about how divorced people can sometime still have feelings for each other. I still didn’t quite understand that concept, but at the same time, a part of me hoped that perhaps the Necromantress might have spared him. Maybe she would find the idea of having one of her zombies kill him unbearable and wanted to do it herself. Or maybe I was delusional and Rubberman was currently dead, lying on the floor of the factory with his brains ripped out of his skull and his costume in tatters among the other dead superheroes and sidekicks who were with him.

  Aloud, however, I said, “Regardless of what the Necromantress has done to him or the others, this is very bad. And I do mean very bad.”

  “What about the Legion?” said Frank. “Isn’t that factory supposed to be the base of the Vigilante Legion? And didn’t you guys have police backup or something?”

  Cyberkid scowled. “I think we were lied to. We didn’t see any evidence that that old factory had even been opened before we attacked. I think Blast lied to you when he told you about the factory. The Legion’s real base—and, with it, the Big Boy bomb—is somewhere else, though where, I don’t know. As for the police, they ran. The cowards.”

  Damn it. Not only had Rubberman and the other heroes been taken out by the Necromantress, but the Legion was still out there somewhere. And without Heroes United to oppose them, there was no one in the city to stop the Legion. Well, I guess there was the police, but given how much trouble they usually had with even just one supervillain, I was not confident they would be able to take on an entire team of ex-superheros and sidekicks, many of whom had powers and abilities that would make short work of any police officer stupid enough to fight them.

  “It was a trap,” said Cyberkid, putting a hand on his forehead. “I’m convinced that the whole thing was a setup to take out the Heroes United members in one fell swoop. That’s why Blast told us the location of the Legion’s base; he knew we’d take the bait and go rushing into danger.”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Not to mention that we knew that the Legion and the Necromantress were working together. We didn’t know what, exactly, they were planning to do together, but now it’s obvious what they had planned out. We were played for fools.”

  “And it’s all Prime Man’s fault,” Cyberkid continued. He glared up at the ceiling. “Telling us to attack in the middle of the day instead of waiting until tonight as we originally planned … that man is an idiot, I swear. Not that it would have made much of a difference, maybe, because the Necromantress would have ambushed us no matter what time of day it was, but if we’d had more time to prepare, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

  “Did you try to call Prime Man and tell him about this?” said Mom. She was sitting on the arm of one of the recliners, the one Dad was sitting on, and she had her hands folded in her lap. “Even if it’s his fault, it might just be an honest mistake on his part. He might even be able to rescue the others himself; Prime Man is the strongest superhero in the world, after all.”

  “I actually did try to call him,” said Cyberkid. “But for whatever reason, he didn’t answer the phone. I know he wasn’t going to stay in Go
lden City very long after he finished his meeting with Sasha Munroe, but I thought he might not have left yet. I figure he’s probably on his private jet now going back to New York and won’t know about this mess until he gets back into his office, though by then it will be too late for him to actually do anything about it.”

  The mention of Sasha Munroe sparked a memory in my head. I remembered that Prime Man had mentioned that he was planning to strike a deal with Sasha while in Golden City. The meeting was supposed to have happened yesterday at around lunch; and if I remembered correctly, Cyberkid had said that Prime Man had told the members of Heroes United to attack shortly after yesterday’s lunch. That meant he would have been done with his meeting with Sasha, which made me wonder exactly what kind of business deal they could have—

  Suddenly, a terrible thought occurred to me. My heart rate increased and I began to sweat a little. The thought was terrifying, maybe even downright evil, and I prayed it was wrong, but the more I thought about it, the more logical—and true—it seemed.

  “Ah, dang it,” said Dad, shaking his head. “It sounds to me like Prime Man’s help is exactly what you need to get out of this situation. Too bad he’s not here to help.”

  “Actually,” I said, drawing everyone’s attention to me, “it might be better if we didn’t have Prime Man’s help. He’s the one who sent Rubberman and the others into that trap in the first place.”

  “But it was accidental,” said Cyberkid. “He didn’t know about the Necromantress or the ambush she’d set up, nor did he know that Blast had lied to us.”

  “No, I think he did,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “I think he knew about all of that.”

  “How?” said Frank in surprise. “And even if he did, why would he tell Rubberman and the others to go there anyway?”

  “Because he planned it,” I said. “Because he and Sasha Munroe struck a deal to get rid of Rubberman and every other member of Heroes United in the city. And unless we stop those two soon, we’ll soon join them.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Impossible,” said Cyberkid. “Prime Man is a selfish, shortsighted jerk with loads of insecurities, but he’d never betray us or knowingly send us to our deaths.”

  “I think Cyberkid’s right, bro,” said James, leaning against the frame of the living room’s entryway with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Granted, I don’t know Prime Man myself, but Prime Man is supposed to be one of the greatest and most trustworthy heroes in the world. I can’t see him betraying his fellow Heroes United members, much less to Sasha Munroe of all people.”

  I was aware that I was probably red in the face, maybe even sweating, but I didn’t care because I knew that what I said was true. “I don’t have any proof that Prime Man betrayed us, maybe, but it makes sense and it’s the only reasonable explanation for why he ordered Rubberman and the others to behave in a stupid way and why he didn’t answer your call.”

  “Then explain your reasoning,” said Cyberkid. “I think we’re all interested in hearing why you think Prime Man is a traitor and why you think he’s collaborating with Sasha, the Vigilante Legion, and the Necromantress all at the same time.”

  That request would have floored me under ordinary circumstances, because this revelation didn’t come to me in a logical, step-by-step fashion. It was more like a wide variety of disparate facts floating inside my mind like rocks in space suddenly collided together to form a new truth that I hadn’t even known existed until just a few seconds ago. Kind of like how some scientists view the Big Bang and the origin of the universe, except inside my mind.

  But instead of leaving me speechless, I suddenly saw, in my mind, how all of the facts and evidence came together to prove my point and how to communicate it to everyone else.

  “Okay,” I said. “First, we need to start off with the fact that Sasha Munroe has hired the Necromantress to work for her, which indirectly connects Sasha to the Legion via the alliance the Necromantress made with them. I don’t know if the Legion is aware of the Necromantress’ connection to Sasha, but it doesn’t matter because Sasha just needed a way to influence the Legion and this was the best way she knew how to do it.”

  “But why would Sasha want to influence the Legion at all?” said James, raising a questioning eyebrow. “I mean, I know she’s probably up to no good, but it still doesn’t make much sense to me.”

  “Because Sasha wants to kill Rubberman,” I said. I was speaking more quickly than normal, because each explanation popped into my mind like lightning and I was struggling to keep up with it. “She wants to kill him so she can get his business and make her company richer than ever. She is hoping that the Vigilante Legion and the Necromantress will be able to kill Rubberman, which will make it easier to buy his business because no one will own it.”

  “Okay, but what does Prime Man have to gain from all of this?” said Cyberkid skeptically. “Why would he have any reason at all to go along with Sasha’s plans? Even if he hates Rubberman, this seems like a stupid thing to do.”

  “I don’t know what Prime Man hopes to gain from all of this,” I said. “And, like I said, I could very easily be wrong about all of this. But I don’t think I am. I think Prime Man also sees a way to profit from Rubberman’s death, though how, I don’t know.”

  “This is all very scary,” said Mom, rubbing her hands together anxiously. “Scary, and confusing. Do you think they will attack us? The vigilantes know your secret identity, don’t they, Alex?”

  “Iron Angel does, but I’m not sure that he or the vigilantes he brought with him the first time managed to transmit that information to the rest of the Legion before we caught him,” I said, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Given how none of the vigilantes have shown up at our house yet, I don’t think any of them yet know my real identity. So we’re safe.”

  Mom breathed a sigh of relief, but at that moment, my phone started ringing in my pocket. Hoping it was Rubberman, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the screen. The screen did not show Rubberman’s number. Instead, it was Adams, whose frowning picture looked up at me from the phone with his usual severity.

  Tapping the ‘answer’ button, I held my phone up to my ear and said, “Hey, Adams, what’s—”

  “Mr. Fry!” Adams said suddenly, his voice full of urgency. “Are you all right? Where are you? You’re not in danger, are you?”

  “What? No,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m at my house. I’m perfectly fine.”

  “Ah,” said Adams, his voice immediately returning to its usual calmness. “That is good to hear, Mr. Fry. I just received a rather threatening phone call and I wanted to ensure that you were okay, because the person on the other end made it sound as though you weren’t.”

  “Threatening phone call?” I said. I glanced at the others before returning my attention to my phone. “What threatening phone call? How long ago did you get it?”

  “Approximately five minutes ago, give or take,” said Adams. “I was sweeping Level Two when someone called my phone. I thought it might have been you or Mr. Pullman, and indeed, at first I thought it was Mr. Pullman because the call came from his number. But when I answered it, the voice on the other end sounded nothing at all like Mr. Pullman and even denied being him at all.”

  “What did this voice sound like?”

  “Robotic and monotone,” said Adams. “I think it may have been an actual person, however, hiding their voice via an artificial synthesizer, because—”

  “I don’t care if it was a real person or a robot,” I interrupted. “What did the voice say?”

  “The person said that they were holding Mr. Pullman hostage,” said Adams. “They threatened to kill him if you did not show up at a particular location in a certain amount of time.”

  “This person wants to see me?” I said.

  “Yes. I asked who they were, but they refused to identify themselves. But I believed them, because they were calling from Mr. Pullman’s phone and I know for a fact
that Mr. Pullman always keeps his phone on him and never lends it to anyone. I did not get to talk to Mr. Pullman, even though I asked to speak with him.”

  I had a strong feeling that this person—whoever it was—was somehow connected to Munroe Acquisitions, Inc. Maybe it was even Takeshi; he certainly wasn’t above making threatening phone calls to people who Sasha wanted to frighten. Or maybe Sasha delegated this oh-so-important task to a lower level employee, though I had no idea how many of her employees were in on her criminal activities.

  Regardless, I said to Adams, “How much time did they say they were willing to wait for me to show up?”

  “Two hours,” Adams replied. “It is probably a little less than that now, however, because the two hour time limit started as soon as their call ended and it has already been a few minutes since then.”

  “Less than two hours, then,” I said. “Do you know where they want me to meet them?”

  “They gave me an address, which I quickly looked up on Mission Control’s GPS system,” said Adams. “According to the GPS, the address is downtown Golden City, in a building across from the Munroe Acquisitions headquarters. The exact building appears to be currently abandoned, though I have no idea who owns that particular property.”

  I bit my lower lip. This all but confirmed Munroe Acquisitions was behind this kidnapping. But I didn’t understand why they were going through all of this. If they had Rubberman, why did they not simply kill him and then take his business? It would have been easy to blame his death on the Necromantress, after all, without ever having to drag the company into it. Something about this stunk, and the problem was that I didn’t know what.

  “If I want to meet them, do I need to call them myself and let them know or not?”

 

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