by Lee Bacon
“There’s gotta be some other way,” I pleaded. “You can’t separate us.”
“I just convinced my mom to let me stay in Sheepsdale.” Miranda stared miserably at the floor. “What am I supposed to tell her now? Never mind? Oh, and by the way, you need to set me up with a fake name?”
“School’s gonna be super-lame if you guys all leave,” Milton complained.
“We’re in a lot more danger on our own,” Sophie said. “Look at what happened today. The only reason we survived that attack was because we were together.”
“I understand the points you kids are making,” Dad said, “but we’re out of options here.”
“Perhaps not.” Captain Justice gazed into the distance as if he’d just spotted an idea fluttering around our living room. “I may have a solution. A way to keep the children safe without separating them.”
He paused, considering. A tense silence settled over the living room. Even Elliot took a break from his attempt to “clean” and chewed on the dustpan nervously.
“What if …,” Captain Justice began, “we sent them to … Alabaster?”
The word meant nothing to me. But it seemed as if my parents knew exactly what Captain Justice was talking about. And whatever Alabaster was, they didn’t like it.
“Not a chance!” Dad said loudly.
“We want to keep them safe,” Mom added. “Not warp them for life.”
“Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” Captain Justice eyed my parents. “Alabaster is a very prestigious institution. The children could benefit greatly from a little time there.”
“Would someone please tell me what you guys are talking about?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Milton glanced from my parents to Captain Justice, confused. “Why the heck do you want to send us to Alabama?”
“Not Alabama,” Mom replied. “Alabaster. It’s a school.”
“Alabaster Academy is the country’s oldest and best boarding school for Gyfted youth,” Captain Justice explained. “It’s where I spent six of the best years of my life.”
“We’re well aware of your glory years,” Dad grumbled. “But not everyone had such a grand experience.”
Dad’s comment sparked a faint memory. I turned to my parents. “Wait a second … I remember Alabaster Academy—that’s where you guys went to school!”
Mom nodded, although she didn’t look too eager to stroll down memory lane. “That was a long time ago.”
“You never told me the Dread Duo were your classmates!” Sophie said to her dad.
“We ran with different crowds,” Captain Justice explained.
Dad crossed his arms. “Yeah, he was in the too-cool-for-everyone-else-and-totally-stuck-up crowd,” he muttered.
“Maybe you would’ve had more friends if you hadn’t blown up the gymnasium,” Captain Justice countered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you were antisocial and aggressive. Not to mention dangerous to those around you.”
“At least I didn’t go around acting like I was the king of middle school.” Dad rose from the couch. For a second there, I thought the two of them were going to break out the weapons, just like old times.
“Everyone calm down.” Mom stepped between them. “I think we’ve had enough reminiscing for one day. We’re not here to talk about school. We’re here to find a way to keep our children safe.”
“And I say Alabaster is the best way to do that.” Over Dad’s grumbling, Captain Justice went on: “The principal there owes me a favor. I’ll make sure the children are enrolled under fake names. Nobody will know who their parents are or where they came from. And among so many other Gyfted kids, they’ll totally blend in.”
Mom still didn’t look thrilled about the idea, but she nodded anyway. “They do have excellent security at Alabaster.… ”
Dad faced her, shocked. “You’re actually considering this?”
“I know we didn’t have the best experience there, but Alabaster is a top-notch school. And more important, it’s our best chance to protect Joshua from Phineas Vex.”
Dad grudgingly accepted her point. “All right, then. Just until Vex is behind bars … or dead.”
I could see worry spreading across Milton’s face. “So this school is for Gyfted kids, huh?” he began in an unsteady voice.
“No need for concern, Marlon.” Captain Justice gave Milton a kind look (even if he had just called Milton by the wrong name). “I’ll have a talk with the principal, tell him you’re still waiting on your Gyft. We’ll say you’re a late bloomer.”
“Thanks, but … I seriously doubt my mom will let me go to some school she’s never heard of. She doesn’t know anything about all of … this.” Milton gestured to the odd gathering in our living room—three superpowered kids, one celebrity hero, two fiendish villains, a couple of robot butlers, and one mutant houseplant. “If I try to explain this to her, she’d probably have a heart attack.”
“Your mom will let you come.” Miranda gazed at Milton with a look of certainty. “Trust me.”
Milton took a relieved breath. “Any hints about how I’m supposed to convince her?”
“Captain Justice will talk her into it.”
“I will?” The superhero looked just as surprised by Miranda’s comment as Milton did. But that didn’t last long. Clearing his throat, he turned to Milton with a confident smile. “I mean—I will!”
I wasn’t sure about leaving my home behind. Especially if it meant going to some preppy school for superpowered kids. Did I really want to live at school? It sounded to me like a prison with textbooks. But if that was the only way my friends and I could stay together, then I wasn’t arguing.
And just like that, it was decided. The four of us would be starting the seventh grade at Alabaster Academy.
There wasn’t much time to prepare. If nFinity could track us to the mall, then nowhere in Sheepsdale was safe. Not even my parents’ house. But just as everyone began discussing plans for getting to Alabaster, the conversation was drowned out by a noise from outside. Whatever it was, it was getting closer.
“What is that?” Dad asked.
Mom listened for a moment. “It sounds like … a helicopter.”
She was right. The thwumping of propellers grew louder and louder. It sounded like the helicopter was directly above us. Ignoring the warnings of my parents, I rushed to the window. Cracking open the blinds, I peered outside just in time to see a bright red helicopter landing in our front yard.
And that was only the second-biggest surprise.
The doors swung open and out stepped Scarlett Flame.
So much for keeping a low profile.
With a cherry-red helicopter parked in your front yard and an internationally famous superhero standing beside it, you’re bound to draw a little attention. But drawing attention was one of Scarlett Flame’s specialties. It’s part of the reason why she’d become the most recognizable female superhero on the planet. You could spot her on morning talk shows discussing her latest battle with Tesla the Terrible, or on the covers of fashion magazines. She had her own line of signature lipsticks. (“Scarlet isn’t just a hue,” she said in the commercials. “It’s an attitude.”) Once she’d begun dating Captain Justice, her fame had only grown.
And now she was standing on our front lawn.
Her mane of red hair swirled in the wind from the propellers. Sunlight glistened across her golden one-piece uniform.
Mom glared out the window, gritting her teeth at the new arrival. “What the heck is she doing here?”
“Uh, well …” Captain Justice tugged at his cape. “I invited her.”
“You invited your superhero girlfriend to our house?”
“I wouldn’t say that she’s my girlfriend, exactly. We’re dating, but we’re trying not to use that label until we’ve fully—”
Captain Justice went quiet when he noticed the angry looks my parents were giving him.
“It’s bad enough that y
ou’re here!” Dad flung up his arms, pacing back and forth. “Now Scarlett Flame knows our address!”
“I thought you’d met before?”
“Yeah. We did. She disrupted our death satellite and captured a few of our best zombies!”
“Pardon me, but my daughter is in danger!” Captain Justice stepped forward, flexing his biceps. “We can use all the help we can get.”
Sophie turned on her dad. “I don’t need your girlfriend to protect me.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
Everyone was talking at once, raising their voices to be heard over the thrum of the helicopter outside. My parents’ relationship with Captain Justice had been shaky enough before Scarlett Flame’s arrival. The way things were going, it wouldn’t be long before they were back to being mortal enemies.
“WOULD EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP!”
The sound of my voice silenced the argument. My parents turned on me, shocked. They had a rule against using the words “shut up”—which always struck me as kind of strict, coming from two people who’d tried to destroy the world more times than I could count—but by this point, I really didn’t care.
Stepping forward, I looked from my parents to Captain Justice. “Phineas Vex is on the loose, nFinity is trying to kill us, and Scarlett Flame is standing in our front yard. But all you guys do is fight. The longer she stands outside with that helicopter, the more people are going to notice.”
Dad sighed. “He’s right. We’ve got more important things to think about. Like keeping our children safe. And the best way to do that right now is to get the superhero—and her helicopter—off our lawn.”
Captain Justice opened the front door just wide enough to wave Scarlett Flame inside. As the door closed behind her, the red helicopter rose back into the air and disappeared into the blue sky.
“Sorry I’m late, everyone!”
Scarlett swept into the living room. If anything, she looked even more beautiful and glamorous in real life than in all the commercials and magazines.
“Whoa!” Milton whispered, staring.
Sophie elbowed him. “Might want to wipe the drool off your chin.”
“Your dad’s the luckiest guy in the world.”
Scarlett gazed at her surroundings. Dropping her red handbag on the sofa, she exclaimed, “What a quaint house! So tiny and disheveled! I love it!”
“Just make yourself at home,” Mom grumbled.
Scarlett didn’t seem to hear the comment. Smiling radiantly at my mom, she exclaimed, “Emily Dread! So nice to see you again!”
Scarlett leaned forward to plant an air kiss on each of my mom’s cheeks. It was probably a good thing Mom was too surprised to react. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure she would’ve karate-chopped Scarlett across the room.
Releasing my mom, Scarlett whirled to face my dad.
“And Dominick! How long has it been? You look terrific!”
“Uh … well … th-th-thanks,” Dad stammered. He adjusted his glasses. “Er … so do you.”
This last comment didn’t go over too well with Mom. Her scowl shifted from Scarlett Flame to Dad. Not that Scarlett noticed. She was too busy crossing the room, arms outstretched toward Captain Justice. “Honey-poo! I missed you sooo much!”
“Greetings, sweetie pie!” Captain Justice took hold of Scarlett’s hands, pulling her in for a kiss.
Sophie turned away like she was searching for the nearest barf bag. “Let’s not forget that everyone’s life is in danger. Save the mushy stuff for later.”
One thing was for sure: Scarlett Flame knew how to make an entrance. I’d been so distracted by her arrival that I’d momentarily forgotten about the current crisis. And by the look of it, so had almost everyone else. It was up to Sophie to fill Scarlett Flame in on the situation at hand.
“Right before you caught the attention of everyone in town,” Sophie remarked in an annoyed voice, “we decided that my dad would help us enroll under fake identities at Alabaster Academy.”
“How wonderful!” Scarlett gushed. “My alma mater!”
“Your alma what?” Milton asked.
“It means she went to Alabaster too,” Miranda explained.
“She was a couple of years behind us,” Captain Justice explained.
“Several years behind them,” Scarlett said quickly. “But yes—I had an absolutely marvelous time at Alabaster. You’ll love it there—”
Mom stepped forward, clearing her throat. “As much as we appreciate your school spirit, Ms. Flame, we aren’t sending the kids to Alabaster for the pep rallies. We’re doing this to keep them safe.”
“The first thing to consider is transportation,” Dad said. “Alabaster is hundreds of miles from here—”
“Three hundred fifty-seven miles,” Miranda said.
“Exactly. Getting there could be problematic. We can’t risk being followed. Or attacked along the way.”
“You’re welcome to ride in my helicopter,” Scarlett volunteered.
“Ooh, yeah!” Milton hopped up and down eagerly. “Can we?”
My parents were already shaking their heads. “Your helicopter would draw unwanted attention,” said Mom.
“And there wouldn’t be enough room for other passengers,” Dad pointed out.
I glanced at my dad. “What other passengers?”
“Your mother and I will be traveling with you. Just in case something does happen on the way.”
“We’re coming too! Aren’t we, honey-poo?” Scarlett reached for Captain Justice’s hand.
“Certainly, sweetie pie. And of course Stanley will be joining us.”
Dad puffed out his chest defensively. “If your robot gets to come, then so does mine.”
“Roooaaad triiip!” Elliot squealed.
“That’s quite a lot of people,” Mom said. “Where are we going to find a vehicle big enough to fit everyone?”
Captain Justice reached for his utility belt and removed his phone. “If it’s space you need, I have the perfect solution. Just let me make a quick call.”
We had a lot to do, and not much time. Luggage to pack, birth certificates to forge. Miranda went home to tell her mom the news. Meanwhile, Captain Justice paid a visit to Milton’s house. And it went just like Miranda had predicted. Milton’s mom was so astounded to see Captain Justice in her living room, it didn’t matter that she’d never even heard of Alabaster Academy, or that Captain Justice kept referring to her son as “Marlon.” By the time the superhero was through charming her, she agreed: Alabaster was a terrific opportunity for her Milton.
Early the next morning, we loaded into three cars, making sure that each kid had at least one superhero or supervillain escort. I crammed into the Volvo with my parents and Elliot. Miranda traveled with her mom and Scarlett Flame. Captain Justice and Stanley went with Sophie and Milton. Each car took a different route (in case we were being followed), but we all ended up at the same place.
A warehouse on the outskirts of Sheepsdale.
Inside, the warehouse was stuffed with promotional items for Hangin’ with Justice. T-shirts, posters, coffee mugs, trading cards, baseball caps, action figures.
“Wow!” Milton whispered, gazing at the endless racks of Captain Justice–themed merchandise.
My parents weren’t nearly as impressed. For years, they’d considered Captain Justice a “super-sellout” more interested in his own celebrity than saving the world. Since getting to know him a little better, their opinions had mellowed. But now their lips curled with disgust as they looked at box after box of “worthless junk” (Mom’s words) and “cheap throwaway items to be hoisted onto the unwitting masses” (that part came from Dad).
I was taking a closer look at a stack of mouse pads—each plastered with an identical image of Captain Justice’s grinning face—when I heard the sound of brakes groaning outside.
Our footsteps echoed across the vast warehouse as we hurried toward the loading dock. Heavy steel doors rose to reveal a gigantic silver and blue tour bus
. On its side was the same grinning picture of Captain Justice that I’d just been looking at on the mouse pad—only bigger. Way bigger. My eyes scanned the splashy words emblazoned beside his picture:
HANGIN’ WITH JUSTICE—
NATIONAL TOUR!!!
“Looks like our ride’s here,” Captain Justice said.
I’ll admit, at first it didn’t seem like the best idea.
Our goal was to travel more than three hundred miles without anyone noticing. And so what did we do? Join a national publicity tour with a couple of world-famous superheroes. Yeah, that’s not gonna get attention.
“Tell me again why we agreed to do this,” Mom said, stepping hesitantly onto the tour bus.
“It’s called hiding in plain sight,” Captain Justice said. “Phineas Vex and his minions assume you’re in a secret location. Which is why they’ll never expect you to be hidden in the middle of a publicity extravaganza.”
“Yeah, because who would be idiotic enough do that?” Dad muttered, following my mom onto the bus.
“The kids will never leave the bus. Nobody will even know they’re coming along. And this way, we can all be there to protect them.”
As soon as I climbed onto the bus, my jaw dropped. It was like a four-star hotel on wheels. Leather sofas stretched along both sides of the vehicle. Flat-screen TVs were attached to the walls. Beneath a row of tinted windows was a mini-kitchen that came equipped with a sink, microwave, and refrigerator. And past all that was a bathroom, six bunk beds concealed behind curtains, and a door that led into another room, with a king-sized bed.
“Forget Alabaster Academy.” Milton plopped down on the sofa, gazing at his surroundings. “I say we hide out in here for the next year or two.”
Miranda sat down beside him. “This is a big step up from the buses I usually take to school.”
“And unlike your average tour bus, this one comes with state-of-the-art security features,” Captain Justice said. “Just in case anyone does attempt to mess with us.”
Once everyone was on board, Stanley took a seat behind the steering wheel—Elliot was strapped into the passenger seat beside him—and closed the door. A moment later, the bus lurched into motion.