by Lucas Flint
Speaking of the Rubber Ball, we did not see any more alien shenanigans over the week, either. They did not appear during the day or night, and the Gonzales family did not report any alien activity, either. I didn’t see the two government agents, Camel and Jake, but Nightbolt said that that was normal, given how those two only showed up after aliens appeared, never before.
That was why we were surprised when, on the last day of the week (which was our day off from training), we heard a knock at the door. Nightbolt was in the kitchen, washing the dishes we’d used for lunch, while I was in the living room, napping on one of the red recliners, while Spike lay on the floor next to the recliner. His leg had healed up pretty quickly after the alien attack, to the point where he was able to walk without needing any help, although he did have a slight limp and sometimes would whine in the night suddenly like he was having a terrible nightmare. Still, Spike appeared to be getting better, which was good, because Spike was an old dog and I sometimes thought he didn’t have much longer to live.
The sudden knock at the door made me look over my shoulder at the door, while Spike raised his head and made a small but serious ‘woof,’ like he was warning whoever was at the door to stay away. The knocking, however, did not stop; it actually became more insistent, as if whoever was knocking really needed to come in.
“Hold on, hold on, I’m coming,” said Nightbolt as he walked out of the kitchen, drying off his hands with a small hand towel. “Hold your horses, I’m coming!”
Realizing that it might be a stranger, I quickly slipped my helmet back onto my head and fastened the clasps just as Nightbolt opened the front door and said, “Who is it?”
Craning my neck, I looked around Nightbolt to see two very familiar men in black suits standing on the front porch: Agents Camel and Jake. Agent Camel was leaning against the frame of the door, his familiar smirk never leaving his lips, while Agent Jake stood a few feet away, his arms folded over his chest, his expression as inscrutable as ever. This time, both of them wore sunglasses, sunglasses dark enough to hide their eyes.
“Hey there, Nightbolt,” said Agent Camel, flashing Nightbolt a friendly smile. “Been a while since we were last here. How are you doing?”
“Fine, Camel,” said Nightbolt in a voice that made it clear he didn’t like talking to them. “What do you want?”
“Want? You make us sound so cold,” said Camel. He nodded at Jake. “Jake and I just got finished with lunch and decided to come by and visit you like good neighbors. Isn’t that right, Jake?”
Jake didn’t nod, smile, or do anything to show that he had even heard Camel. I was under the impression that Jake found Camel’s jokes just as cringe worthy as we did, but he had long since accepted that Camel would not stop cracking them.
“Cut the crap, Camel,” said Nightbolt. “I know how you two feel about me. You’re here for another reason, aren’t you?”
“Well, I suppose we also have a work-related reason for being here,” said Camel. “Right, Jake?”
Jake nodded this time. “Yes. Aliens.”
“Aliens indeed, old buddy,” said Camel. He looked at Nightbolt again. “Specifically, aliens here. On your property.”
Nightbolt became very still, like a cat about to run. “What do you mean, aliens on my property? I have never been visited by aliens before.”
“That’s not what we heard on the grapevine,” said Camel. “According to our sources, an alien was spotted on your property last week, near that old barn of yours you call the Colosseum or whatever. Allegedly, the alien was spotted very early in the morning on Monday, so it’s possible that you and your trainee were asleep when it came here.”
“Perhaps we were,” said Nightbolt stiffly. “Both of us are heavy-sleepers. So is Spike, for that matter.”
“Really?” said Camel. “I’ve never owned a dog that sleeps well whenever there are intruders. Of course, your dog is getting rather old, so maybe that’s why he sleeps so well. Don’t you agree, Jake?”
No response from Jake this time, except a slight, impatient nod as if to say Get on with it.
“Anyway,” Camel continued, “we wanted to take a look around your property, see if we can find any clues about the alien, clues we could take back to our base to study. If we can find even a tiny sliver of DNA, that might help us understand these aliens better, don’t you agree?”
“Assuming your ‘sources’ are correct about the alien at all,” said Nightbolt. “Maybe someone is leading you on a wild goose chase.”
“Nah, not possible,” said Camel, shaking his head. “We’re very particular about our sources. Trust me, we know that there was an alien on your property, even if you don’t.”
“What took you so long to investigate these rumors?” said Nightbolt. “If that alien was on my property last week, then all DNA traces of it might be gone. Might be no more clues for you to find.”
“We had to get permission from our boss back in D.C.,” said Camel, jerking his head back as if to indicate the direction of the capital. “Government protocol, you understand. This is the first time we’ve actually heard of an alien running around on Earth, so we have to be careful about how we approach it.”
I didn’t say anything, nor did I move. I didn’t want to distract Nightbolt or draw the attention of the two agents to myself. Spike was quiet, too, but based on the way he was looking at his master, he was quite clearly waiting for Nightbolt to give him the go-ahead to attack the agents.
“Well, I’m not sure I want you two wandering around my property,” said Nightbolt. “I am still not entirely convinced that there was ever really an alien on it, after all. Plus, I value my privacy.”
Camel chuckled. “Ah, privacy. I remember when I had that. Don’t you, Jake?”
Jake shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another if he remembered having privacy or not.
“Right,” said Camel, as if Jake had responded. He looked at Nightbolt again. “Listen, Nightbolt, this is all just to be polite. We already have a warrant to search your property, so we could just go and start poking around right now if we want. We just wanted to let you know so you wouldn’t shoot us with that old shotgun of yours.”
“I don’t see a warrant,” said Nightbolt.
But even before he finished that sentence, Camel drew a piece of paper from his jacket and held it up for Nightbolt to see. I couldn’t see it myself, but given how Nightbolt did not slap it out of Camel’s hands, I assumed that it was legitimate.
“Anyway, we’re going to go and start looking now,” said Camel as he folded up the warrant and put it back in his jacket pocket. “We won’t be long, because your place isn’t all that big. We’ll mostly just check the area around the barn and back of the house. Probably won’t even take us an hour, if that.”
Nightbolt nodded stiffly. “Very well. If you need any help, I will be in the house.”
“Sure,” said Camel. He turned to go, but then stopped and, looking over his shoulder, “Oh, and one last thing—”
But I didn’t get to find out what that ‘one last thing’ was before Nightbolt slammed the door shut on Camel’s face. He stood there for a moment, seething in anger, before taking a deep breath and walking over to me. He sat down in the other recliner and rubbed his forehead, while Spike got up and sat down on the floor near him, nudging his foot with his nose as if trying to make Nightbolt feel better.
“Uh,” I said, somewhat awkwardly, because I didn’t know what to say. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“Unexpected is the understatement of the year,” said Nightbolt. He leaned back in his chair, his legs spread out like an umbrella. “I didn’t expect those two to show up like that. How could they have known about the alien?”
“They said they had sources—”
“Bull,” said Nightbolt. “’Sources’ is what hack reporters say whenever they want to push a narrative. Those two don’t have sources.”
“Then how did they find out about the alien?” I asked.
I spoke in a low voice, because for all I knew Camel and Jake might be standing outside the living room windows even now, listening in to our conversation. “Someone had to have told them.”
“I didn’t,” said Nightbolt. “And I bet that you didn’t, either.”
“Yeah, I didn’t,” I said. I looked down at Spike. “And I doubt Spike did, too.”
Spike looked at me when I said his name. He looked a little anxious, maybe because Nightbolt was anxious or maybe because he wanted to run out of the house and chase those two agents off. I was glad that Nightbolt hadn’t sicced Spike on them, because I had a feeling that neither Camel nor Jake would hesitate to shoot a dog that was trying to attack them.
“Someone did,” said Nightbolt. “But who? No one else saw the alien when it attacked. We haven’t even told anyone about it.”
“Do you think someone is spying on us?” I said. I looked around the living room suddenly. “Maybe Camel and Jake bugged the house at some point and are listening into our conversations even now.”
Nightbolt shook his head. “Stop being an idiot, kid. Those two haven’t bugged my house. And I would know, because before I became a superhero, I was a government spy myself and learned how to identify if a room has been bugged or not. Trust me, this house has no bugs.”
“You were a spy?” I said in surprise. “What agency did you work for?”
“None of your business,” Nightbolt replied. “And even if it was your business, it’s irrelevant. Somehow, some way, someone learned about the alien and told the government about it.”
I halfway rose from my chair in alarm. “What if those two guys discover the Basement? Shouldn’t we go out to make sure they don’t find it?”
“They won’t find it,” said Nightbolt. “It’s too well-hidden. They have no reason to open the gun cabinet, because they’ve got no reason to believe that the alien was even inside the Arena. The alien’s webbing disintegrated last week, meaning they won’t find anything.”
“Oh,” I said as I sat down again. “Then what are we worried about?”
“Whoever is spying on us,” said Nightbolt. He put his hands together. “From now on, we’ll need to be very careful about what we do around here. It’s clear that someone is watching us, though who and why, I don’t know.”
I tried to think of who could have possibly seen the alien, but my mind kept drawing a blank. “What should we do, then? How do we draw out a spy?”
“I don’t know,” said Nightbolt. “The best we can do is keep an eye out for anything suspicious. If you see anything that doesn’t look right, investigate it or tell me about it so I can investigate it myself.”
I nodded, but deep down, I wasn’t sure that would do any good. If we hadn’t seen this spy so far, I doubted we’d find them now. It was possible that the spy had even already fled, if he wasn’t watching us right now. I wondered what else our spy knew. Did the spy know my secret identity? If so, what would he do with that knowledge? Would he use it against us at some point? Or, more specifically, against me?
My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that Rubberman was calling me. It was the first time Rubberman had called me since I left Golden City, though I thought this was an odd time of day to make a phone call.
Nonetheless, I answered the phone and, placing it against the side of my helmet, I said, “Hey, boss! Long time, no see. How are—”
“Beams, are you alone?” came Rubberman’s voice over the phone. He did not sound panicked, but he did sound as if he was in a hurry.
Frowning, I said, “No, why?”
“I need to talk to you alone,” said Rubberman. “Get into another room. This is urgent.”
“Uh, okay,” I said. “Just hold on a sec.”
Apologizing to Nightbolt for having to get up and leave, I jumped out of my chair and went to my room. Closing the door behind me, I took off my helmet and held my phone against my ear again. “Okay, Rubberman, I’m alone. What’s the problem?”
There was silence at the other end for a brief second, but then Rubberman said, “Shawna is back. And I think she’s trying to kill me again.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Shawna?” I said, in surprise, holding the phone closer to my ear. “You mean the Necromantress?”
“She’ll always be Shawna to me,” said Rubberman, “but yes, she’s back.”
I looked around my room instinctively; even though I was alone, I still remembered Nightbolt’s theory about the spy and wondered if the spy was listening in on my conversation this very instant. “But didn’t she leave Golden City after she helped us defeat Iron Angel? I thought she was going to be gone for a while.”
Rubberman chuckled. “Shawna will never leave me alone until the day I die. Even then, she might reanimate my corpse and beat it into pulp just out of principle.”
“How do you know she’s back?” I said. “Has she tried to attack you?”
“Not yet,” said Rubberman, “but I’ve started reading reports about corpses disappearing from graveyards all around Texas, including here in Golden City. The police seem to think that there is a serial grave robber going around the state, but it’s my belief that Shawna is going around Texas digging up these corpses for her own dark magic. I told Chief Williams as much when he came to visit me in the hospital this morning.”
“Damn it,” I said. “I thought she was going to leave you alone until you got out of the hospital.”
“So far, she has,” said Rubberman, “but she’s also been stealing corpses from morgues around the state, too. I figure she’s going to try to assassinate me with one of her zombies, perhaps dressed up as a nurse or doctor, while I’m sleeping in my bed here in the hospital.”
“Would she really try to kill you that way?”
“Shawna is willing to do anything to kill me,” said Rubberman. “The better question to ask is, what won’t she do to kill me?”
I leaned against my door, troubled. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it? Do you want me to come back to Golden City and provide you with some protection or something?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” said Rubberman. “You need to complete your training with Nightbolt. I just wanted to let you know so you would not be surprised if you come back to Golden City and run into her. I’ll be fine for now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. The hospital security has assured me that they won’t let Shawna anywhere near me. They’ve also got a system in place to verify the identities of doctors, nurses, and other hospital employees who may try to visit me, so even if she does send a zombie after me, it may not get very far before a security guard stops it.”
“I hope so,” I said. “How are you holding up? Are you healing well?”
“Yes, though I still have two weeks before they’ll release me,” said Rubberman. “It’s been incredibly boring. Not much to do around here. Can’t do much business because the doctor doesn’t want me to overexert myself, not even in bed. I’ve had to rely on Adams to do a lot of my work, but there’s only so much he can do, given how he’s still recovering from the wounds Iron Angel inflicted on him.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s good to hear that Adams is doing better, at least.”
“Yes, but like I said, he’s still not as well as he used to be,” said Rubberman. “He may be tough, but he’s still an old man with an old man’s body. I’m surprised he can even still walk, to be honest, but that’s Adams for you.”
I nodded before realizing that Rubberman couldn’t see me. “Right. Has there been any news about the Vigilante Legion?”
“Not much, from what I’ve heard,” said Rubberman. “But that means nothing. After their loss a few weeks ago, I expect that the Legion is still regrouping, maybe even recruiting new members to join their cause.”
“Maybe Iron Angel’s defeat crippled them forever,” I said hopefully. “He was the leader and founder of the group, wasn’t he? The organization ca
n’t survive without him, can it?”
“We don’t know that for sure,” said Rubberman. “Given how intelligent Iron Angel is, I would be surprised if he didn’t put some contingencies in place to allow the Legion to keep functioning in the event of his capture or arrest.”
My shoulders slumped. “Meaning he might have a second-in-command to keep things moving even if he isn’t there?”
“Most likely,” said Rubberman, nodding. “I expect the Legion to attack again sometime soon. It feels like a storm is gathering on the outskirts, a storm that will strike the city like a hurricane. I don’t know when or where it will first strike, but I’ve already directed Adams to put some emergency measures in place so we’ll be ready for whatever comes.”
“Emergency measures?” I said. “Like what?”
“You’ll find out later when you get back from Los Congrejos,” said Rubberman. “Speaking of Los Congrejos, how is your training going? Is Nightbolt keeping you busy?”
“That’s a mild way to put it,” I said. I rubbed my back. “He’s working me like a mule. Barely have time to do anything else except train, eat, and sleep.”
“Sounds like the old man hasn’t changed one bit,” said Rubberman with a light chuckle. “He treated me the same way. Nightbolt’s never been a man to believe in half-measures. He always goes all the way and he expects the same thing from his trainees.”
“Yeah, I’m not complaining at all,” I said, shaking my head. “But it’s a lot different from training with you, that’s for sure, though kind of similar.”
“Yes, his training is a lot more brutal and intense than mine,” said Rubberman. “But Nightbolt is a lot more brutal and intense than me in a lot of ways. Comes from his time as a superhero, I think. Back in the early days, brutality and intensity was a lot more important than it is now.”