by Kirk Twyman
Gary ignored Orion and continued laying onto his punching dummy. He was apparently putting all of his anger into the punching dummy, and it seemed to be working. I scanned the faces of the other kids, and then I saw one I recognized.
“Elijah?” I said as I recognized a skinny black kid with a familiar, and always dirty, hoodie. Elijah was my cousin. We were really close. Due to my parents’ role within Collective, they didn’t exactly have time for picnics or family reunions, but I’d seen him from time to time at the few gatherings I’ve attended in the past. It was good
“Shit,” he said as he detached from the group watching Orion. “You too. When?”
“They got my parents…Eric, Sam…they got everyone …last night,” I said, my words coming out in fits and starts. It was the first time I had spoken them aloud.
“Sorry, man,” Elijah said. “Supers roasted my folks three weeks ago. It’s just about the same story with all these kids.”
“I see you already know Elijah,” Frank said. “Let me introduce you to the rest.”
After that, it was just like I was the new kid in school. Since my parents moved around a lot, I was used to it. The difference was, like Elijah had told me, everyone here had the same story. All of our parents were killed by the supers. As day turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, I started to get to know the others better.
Elijah Conrad was my cousin, and since his parents met the same fate as mine, I was starting to think whatever my father had gotten into was some sort of family business. Kofi Mosk was a rail-thin Ghanaian. I got the impression from talking to him that whatever had happened to us was happening all over the world. Even when he was ten years old, Michael “Boo” Hall looked like he could take on Gary and Orion without much help. I gathered he was into football a lot before the supers came for his parents. Boulder Starks was bald and white with glasses. He always struck me as the weird kid who sat by himself at lunch, but the supers had changed all that. He was one of us, and we had to look out for each other. By contrast, Buffy Calico was a blonde track star. She was a couple years older than the rest of us, which only intensified our crush. This always led Regina Clark, the youngest of our group, a bubble gum-chewing black girl, to always give us crap about it.
Trevor and Victoria Adams were different. They had Asian features and were the only siblings in our group. They also didn’t talk much about their parents. As time went on, this struck me as strange. Everyone else mentioned something about their parents – their habits, their cooking, their quirks. But Trevor and Victoria were tight-lipped about the subject. Most assumed it was simply because they were traumatized by their murder, but something always felt off to me. I knew they were hiding something.
That day, after I was settled in, Frank took the floor. I gathered Frank was kind of the principal here. Whenever he started to talk, everyone – including Gary and Orion – listened.
“Thank you. I know you’ve all experienced tragedy these last couple of weeks,” he said. “But I need you to be strong. You might be wondering where this place is and why we are showing you these things. But here’s the thing. I think you’re all smarter than that. I think you all know. You’re just afraid to say it.”
“What happened to you was terrible, but it wasn’t for nothing. Your parents died for something. We’re training you so it doesn’t happen again, but we’re also training you to do more than survive,” Frank said. “We’re training you to make them pay – for your parents and everyone else they’ve hurt.”
I saw uneasy eyes that day in the safe house, but I was not amongst them. I needed this. Maybe it was because the pain of losing my parents was so raw. Or maybe it was because, even then, I was following in my parents’ footsteps. There wasn’t much after that speech – just dinner and then bed. But I wasn’t done. I slipped out of my bed and proceeded down the hall, where I heard Frank talking to Orion and Gary.
Like I said, I was good at not being noticed.
“Kid almost reached for the boom sticks. He’s got good instincts,” Orion said.
“Yeah, well, he’s lucky he isn’t missing any of his fingers,” Frank said.
“Are we sure about this, Frank?” Gary asked, concern lining his voice. “They’re just kids after all.”
“C’mon, Gary, how old were we when Grandpa started training us,” Frank replied. “He knew we needed to be ready—sooner rather than later.”
“I’m with you on this, Frank, but keep in mind…look at what happened to the Collective,” I heard Orion say.
“The Collective were good people. But they were also distracted. They had too much on their plates, and they left themselves wide open as a result,” Frank said. At first, I felt anger boiling in me, but then it turned to confusion. What had the Collective been so distracted about?
Had they been distracted by raising me? By keeping me safe?
I couldn’t afford more questions. All I could afford were answers.
“If we do this, we’re going to have to be careful,” Gary said. “The Watchers can never know.”
“If this goes sideways, I don’t think there’ll be anymore Watchers,” Orion shrugged. “That’s why we needed them.
“I’ll keep them in the dark,” Frank said. “This is our chance. I know things are bad, but I can feel the tide changing.”
I kept that in the back of my mind for the next few months as I trained. Frank was the school principal, while Gary was the parent, making sure we had everything we needed and our homework was in on time. That made Orion the primary teacher – and the subject was supers. How to find them. And how to kill them – without facing down with their superpowers.
I never thought of myself as a leader. I was just doing my job, but that’s what I ended up being to the group. It didn’t matter. Leader or not, I had one thing on my mind as Frank told me it was time for our first mission.
I hoped it brought me in the path of the Red Assassin.
I figured I only needed one shot.
Boy, was I wrong.
Reconnaissance Mission
It may sound cliché, but five years went by quick. Maybe it was my determination to find Red Assassin. I remembered Frank’s words and held them so tight I could almost feel their edges. It pushed me to train harder, to learn as much as I could and be the best. I wasn’t a perfectionist. I wasn’t trying to outdo the other kids in some juvenile anything-you-can-do bullshit. I just knew Red Assassin was among the top assassins in the world, and in order to beat him, I’d have to be just as good.
Just because we were training to be a covert ops teams didn’t mean we didn’t have all the chores and pains of adolescence. We still had to go to a regular school, with regular kids – who we weren’t allowed to hang out with after class. Looking back, I think Frank wanted it that way to protect our secrets. Regardless of the reason, it only served to make us outcasts at school, but those experiences made the bonds between us so much stronger.
We were a family now.
It helped that we had Gary. Even amid the toughest training, including firearms, covert insertion, battlefield tactics, close quarters combat and super weakness identification, Gary still founds time for us. I wish I had found time to tell him he was a better father figure than my actual Dad was. Gary actually listened to us, comforted and encouraged us.
Frank was…well, Frank. He was different. He was a good listener, but that’s all he was. It was a little unnerving to see him listening but never talking. I suppose it was his Watcher training kicking in. He was supposed to observe and not interfere. I got that. I just wish he’d interfered more with us.
Maybe then things would have been different for us.
By the time we had our first mission, we were all teenagers. We were sitting in a conference room trying our best to look like adults and failing at it miserably. Frank was there, alongside Gary, and I could tell from his expression this was serious business.
Frank leaned on the table and folded his hands. “It’s been my pleasure to
watch you grow up into strong young men and women. Today I’m asking you to put that strength into use.”
Gary pushed a button on his tablet. A holographic display immediately leapt into focus, glowing brightly with the images of three locations. Each was more non-descript than the last, and it didn’t take me long to realize we were looking at someone’s safe houses.
“This is purely reconnaissance. Get in and get out. Remember your training. Do not engage under any circumstances,” Frank said. “Get in and get out. You will debrief upon your return.”
There were three teams – Boo, Kofi and Boulder; Victoria, Trevor and Buffy; and lastly, Regina, Elijah and myself. I was glad to be paired with Elijah. Our family connection grew deeper over the last few years, and we worked well together. Regina, on the other hand, was regarded as the annoying little sister who tagged along everywhere. She was the youngest and treated as such. The thing about Regina was she didn’t like it, and she didn’t let us get away with anything.
This was no exception.
Our target was a gadget manufacturing facility. I guess it never occurred to me when I was that young that all those fancy toys the supers had came from somewhere. This facility manufactured them all in bunk. It was run by this cool cat named Zero Temp who possessed extremely thorough ice powers. I was a little nervous as we approached the facility’s main gate. I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Zero Temp’s icy powers.
We were all dressed in black tactical gear. True to form, Elijah was wearing a black hoodie. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” he growled when he noticed me snickering at him.
“Is that a new hoodie?” I asked. “Or did you just spray paint your old one black?”
“Up yours,” my cousin shot back.
“Can it, both you!” Regina scowled. She was short but she was fierce. Both of us followed suit we approached the western fence on the perimeter.
Elijah excitedly called the facility “Christmas morning” because of all the super gadgets and gizmos it held. He constantly boasted about treating himself to a grappling hook or a utility belt via five finger discount. Both Regina and I tried to discourage this. We had to stay on mission, after all.
We slipped through the fence without the assistance of wire cutters. Regina and Elijah were among the smallest of our group, and even I could squeeze beneath the fence with minimal teasing. The facility had been built to withstand attacks from government agencies and other supers alike, but it was completely unprepared for three well-trained teenagers.
Elijah dashed to the entrance and began to pick the lock. Our intel told us the shift change was in ten minutes, which meant all the smokers were taking their last break of the night. It was the perfect time to slip in undetected.
“Christmas morning awaits!” Elijah said proudly as the lock revealed its secrets to him. The door opened a crack, and we slid inside.
What we found inside was not Christmas at all.
The pristine white cases of the gadgets that littered the floor of the facility were covered in blood. Bodies were strewn all about the warehouse, with some left hanging from overhead lights and top shelves and others now trapped in their cubicles. And those were the lucky ones left in one piece.
“Oh my God,” Regina said at the horror.
It was a massacre.
There were no guards in sight. Most of the bodies, as brutalized as they were, belonged to the workers or security that occupied the warehouse. I cautiously moved down the stairs to investigate further. I heard a snap behind me and turned to see Regina and Elijah documenting the massacre on their phones. I kept moving. That’s when I heard it. It sounded like a cement truck chewing gravel. At first, I thought it was one of the factory machines still left working.
Then, I realized it was voice – a very, very deep voice.
I turned back to see Elijah loading his pockets with every kind of capsule he could get his hands on – fire, smoke, cyro, electric, and who knows what else. He saw my baffled expression.
“What? They’re not going to be needing it anymore,” he shrugged.
“Do you hear that?” I said. Regina and Elijah both gave me a confused look.
“That,” I said at the grating noise. “I think someone is talking.’
“Robbie,” Regina said, taking an anxious step next to me. “We should go. We have the information. We need to let Frank now what happened here.”
“I’m with shortie on this,” Elijah replied, prompting Regina to elbow him in the ribs.
“Oww! I was agreeing with you!” he protested.
“This is the mission,” I replied. “If there’s more, Frank will want to know about it. At the very least, I want to know why these people died.”
Regina looked at her feet, pondering her decision for a minute. Then her fierce eyes rose to mine.
“Five minutes,” she said. “And then we’re out.”
We crept along the back of the facility, towards a room in the center of the vast factory. The voice was so deep, I was surprised I could pick it out. There was another noise too, though, something that had masked the voice. It sounded like a steel pipe being struck over and over again, releasing a dedicated chiming sound.
The wall ahead of us burst open, and we were surprised to see Zero Temp thrown through an explosion of paint and dry wall. He was wearing an expensive three-piece suit that had seen better days, with its many rips and tattered holes revealing the blue skin beneath. In spite of this impact, he stood up…and straightened his tie.
“It seems we are at an impasse…Orra,” he said in a smooth voice. He slicked back his short-cut, icy white hair with his light blue hand.
I struggled to hold back a gasp as Orra stepped through the opening. He was one of the strongest supers. He was also supposed to be one of the good guys. That distinction didn’t mean much to us, given what had happened to all of our parents. Still, I was surprised he had committed such a brazen attack on the facility, out in the open like this. He held a long spear in his hand.
“That’s the first thing we’ve agreed…ever,” Orra said. “It’s only fitting that it will be the last.”
I didn’t think it was possible for Zero Temp to sweat. When he did, it created crystalline beads which streamed down his face and neck.
“Don’t be hasty, Orra,” Zero Temp pleaded.
“It’s like you told me in our first meeting,” Orra said. “A good salesman knows how to walk away. Unfortunately, you won’t be.”
With that, Orra plunged the spear directly into Zero Temp’s chest. He cried out in pain as his icy blood dripped over the spear, coating it in a bright blue color. He removed the spear as Zero Temp fell forward. Orra slung the icy man over his shoulder like he was little more than a book bag.
“Is he dead?” another voice said. I saw a familiar armor move through shadows of the torn wall. My heart raced. Was it the Red Assassin?
No, the armor is different. The color is wrong. It’s . . . the Black Assassin.
“Not quite. Zero Temp’s body goes into a cyrogenic state whenever it sustains too much damage,” Orra said. “It’s very fortunate…for us.”
“Then we have best leave,” Black Assassin said. “I fear our position has been compromised.”
“What makes you say that?” Orra asked.
“Them.” Black Assassin said, and when he said us, he looked directly at us.
Before I could move, the throwing knife was launching directly at my head. His words had barely registered with my brain. As a result, I was paralyzed. I only had time for one meager reaction.
“Oh shit!”
Black Assassin and the Savior
It’s amazing how five years of training can disappear in the blink of an eye. Black Assassin’s knife cut into my shoulder, causing me to wince in pain. After that, I ran like hell. In an instant, we transformed from trained operatives to frightened children.
I dashed around the corner, my heart pumping as hard as my feet pounding th
e ground as I ran. Regina passed me, while Elijah was close behind. When I glanced over my shoulder, I could see the Black Assassin closing in. His fearsome dark form was merged with the darkness behind him like a living shadow thrashing through the hallways towards us.
We kept running, trying desperately to reach the doors. I had never been so happy to see a door in my life. I had almost reached it when I suddenly stopped. Elijah almost tripped over me, but I grabbed him by the hoodie.
“What the fuck are you doing? We are almost home free!” he cried.
“No,” I said, looking over my shoulder. “I don’t see him anymore. Which means he’s not chasing us.”
“Who cares?” Elijah said, still fighting my grip. “We lost him!”
“No, he’s right, dumbass! Think!” Regina said ahead of us.
It wasn’t enough. The wall exploded into splinters, sending a concussive force that would have knocked me out completely had not Regina’s small form shielded me from the shockwave. She was sent spiraling into the wall like a ragdoll, knocking her out cold. The Black Assassin stepped through the shattered wall and immediately drew his massive sword.
“Forget this!” Elijah cried and shattered a fire capsule at the Assassin’s feet. For the first time that night, I saw the Black Assassin afraid, stepping back for all the good it did him. The napalm blast sent the Black Assassin scurrying out of the broken doorway, giving us time to escape, but our jubilation didn’t last long.
Once we reached outside, we could see the Black Assassin slowly twitching as he began to return to his feet. We might have been able to outrun him, but I had the unconscious Regina slung over my back. Our only option was to hide once more as we ducked into another warehouse while the dazed Black Assassin regained his bearings.
“Gary,” I said on my com. “We need extraction now.”
“Are you compromised?” he asked.