Searching for Super

by Marion Jensen

  “What should we do?” I asked.

  Juanita turned the corner right as I asked the question. She was dressed in her supersuit.

  “I don’t know what you guys are going to do, but I am going after October Jones. This time, he doesn’t get away.”

  24

  I DEFINITELY THINK WE SHOULD USE OUR ANGRY VOICES

  Juanita led us down the crowded hall. I had a flashback to just a few months earlier, when she’d led us effortlessly through the dump.

  On the way, she explained how she’d escaped from her hotel room. She’d left the shower running and then hid under the bed. When the maids came to change the sheets, she’d snuck into the laundry bin.

  “I thought I’d escape as soon as the maid left me alone, but she never did,” Juanita said. “The maids might be in on it.”

  “Supervillain maids?” Benny said, dodging a pillow that a Jones had just flung at a Johnson. “Not as cool as ninjas, but still kind of awesome.”

  “Lucky for me there was a service phone in the linen closet,” Juanita said. “That’s how I called you, Rafter.”

  “If the maid never left you alone,” I asked, “how do you know where October is hiding?”

  “When I was in the bin, everything looked normal except for this one door at the end of the hall. Even the maid seemed afraid of it.”

  In almost every room, and spilling out into the halls, Johnsons and Baileys were wrestling with, throwing things at, and all-in-all tangling up Joneses. It wasn’t much of a fight. With their supersuits, the heroes could overpower the villains almost effortlessly. Still, none of the villains used powers.

  Grandpa walked down the hall, a big grin spreading out under his mustache. He carried two unconscious Joneses, one over each shoulder.

  “Now we’re cooking with gas!” he proclaimed as he walked by us.

  Benny whacked me on the shoulder. “Hey, we know that guy.” He pointed to one of the Joneses Grandpa was carrying.

  At first I didn’t recognize him, but then I saw it. “Charles!” I said. Charles was the guy we’d fought at the cell-phone tower back when we’d met October the first time.

  We got to the end of the hall. Juanita turned the corner and pointed to a door with a sign that read JANITORIAL SUPPLIES.

  “Wait a minute.” Benny sounded excited. “There aren’t really any janitorial supplies behind that door, are there? What’s back there? A ray gun? A death machine?”

  Juanita shrugged. “I don’t know what’s behind there. But think about it. All of the rooms we’ve seen make up only half of the hotel—the south side. There’s another whole side to floor thirteen, and this is the only door that leads to it—at least that I could find. If October Jones is anywhere, I’d bet it’s in there.”

  That was all Benny needed. He stepped forward, lifted an armored leg, and slammed it against the door.

  He went flying backward, crashing against the far wall and crumpling in a heap on the floor.

  “What the . . . ,” Benny said, getting to his feet. “That worked on the other door.”

  “This door must be reinforced,” I said. “Somebody wants to keep us out.”

  “Benny.” Juanita tried to hide a smile. “Have you ever heard of Newton’s third law of motion?”

  Benny strode toward the door. “Unless that law says at some point the door has to break, I’m not interested. All I have to do is kick harder.”

  “Wait,” I said. “Juanita has a point. If you kick harder, you’ll just go flying back harder. You need more weight.”

  Benny looked confused. “You want me to gain weight? Like . . . right now? You’re the one who never lets me drink chocolate milk.”

  Juanita rolled her eyes, but I thought I saw a smile in there somewhere. “It’s amazing you guys could find me at all. Benny, stand here and give me your elbows.”

  Benny stood facing the door. Juanita backed up against him and locked her elbows with his. She crouched down and dug her heels into the carpet. I guessed what she was doing, and went to place my hands against Benny’s back. I straightened my legs, bracing myself.

  It was a little awkward. Juanita and I were almost nose-to-nose. It almost felt like a hug.

  “Uh . . .” Benny sounded uncertain. “What are you guys doing back there?”

  “Just kick, Benny.” I said. “Sir Isaac Newton and his laws say this might work.”

  Benny didn’t do things halfway. With his elbows locked with Juanita’s, he lifted both feet up off the floor and cocked them against his chest. Juanita supported his weight easily. I braced my feet and waited.

  Benny kicked.

  Hard.

  I felt the force of the impact through my suit, its frame shuddering beneath the blow.

  Everything held. Well, everything but the door. The door flew off its hinges, breaking into pieces and skittering across the floor.

  “Kapow!” Benny cried. “I like that Newton guy. Does he have any other laws?”

  “He wrote a whole book,” I said. “Like a manual for the real world. You might like it.”

  Light from the hall lit up the first few steps past the door, but beyond that was only darkness. Juanita stepped carefully through the doorway, touching a panel on her wrist. I did the same, flipping on the infrared in my helmet. Blackness turned to a ghostly green.

  “Wait,” I whispered. “Benny, we’re doing exactly what we did last time. We’re going off and doing something on our own.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re backing out! We can totally handle this on our own,” Benny said.

  “Maybe we can,” I said. “But it’s always better with friends.”

  I looked at Juanita, who stared at me for a moment, and then nodded.

  I flipped on my radio. “Mom, Dad, I think we’ve found October. End of the hall. We could use some backup.”

  There was a pause, and then I heard my Dad’s voice. “Confirmed. Anybody not fighting Joneses, get to Rafter.”

  Mom’s voice was next. “On my way.”

  Knowing the superheroes would join us soon, we stepped through the door into darkness.

  Instead of another hallway with rooms, the other side of floor thirteen was one gigantic room—the size of a small warehouse.

  The place was a mess. There were workbenches and half-built—or half-torn-apart—vehicles and supersuits and other machines I didn’t recognize. A dirty rug lay on the floor next to a few couches and chairs. I couldn’t tell if people really hung out or even slept here, or if this was just where they threw away their old garbage. Clothes and trash and blankets littered the floor.

  Then I spotted them: computers, stacked on top of one another in racks. Back to plan A.

  I pulled the flash drive out of my pocket and stepped over to the computer rack. I plugged the drive into the biggest machine. I had no idea if this was going to work. It had always been a long shot.

  “Rafter!” Juanita whispered, but I heard her voice loud and clear through the radio. “Over there.” In the middle of the warehouse—with his back toward us—sat a thin figure. He sat in front of a large bank of monitors, his shoulders slumped.

  I couldn’t see his face, but I knew at once who it was. The thin frame. The bald head with a metal plate attached.

  October Jones.

  I heard footsteps behind me. Johnsons and Baileys began to file into the room. I smiled. This time we weren’t going up against October on our own. This time we had a family—make that two families—of superheroes.

  Juanita inched forward in the darkness, toward October. From where I stood, I could make out what was on the monitors. They were feeds from security cameras, just like we had in our basement. Each monitor showed a similar scene.

  Johnsons and Baileys beating Joneses.

  October must have seen this. He must have realized his defeat. It was our moment of victory. Good had prevailed, as good always did.

  October sat, watching his empire crumble around him. In that moment, I almost felt bad for him. I k
new what it felt like to have your dreams taken away.

  Benny’s voice was the faintest whisper in my radio. “What should we say, everybody? We need a really good line. Something like . . . ‘You’ve finally met your match, buster.’ Is buster a swear word? I don’t want to swear, but I definitely think we should use our angry voices.”

  I didn’t have a chance to answer. No one did. In that moment October swiveled in his chair to face us.

  I will never forget the look on his face. He turned and faced two dozen superheroes, but his look wasn’t one of despair or defeat or grief. It was a grin. A horrible, wicked, toothy grin.

  “Hello, Rafter Hans Bailey,” October Jones said. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  25

  IT’S A TRAP!

  Benny clenched his fists, the tiny motors in his supersuit whirring and clicking. Juanita crouched, ready for anything.

  I stood with them, focused on October Jones. When a supervillain says he’s been expecting you, it’s best you sit up and pay attention.

  He wore a supersuit. His head was bald. His face thin and leathery. I know I’d seen him once before at our encounter at the dump, but he looked familiar in some other way. Like I’d seen him more recently.

  October stood. He took a step toward us, and then another. His voice was cold and raspy. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite trio of idiots.”

  “Your mom is a trio of idiots,” Benny said.

  Mom’s voice came from behind me. “You’re surrounded, October. And the rest of your family has been taken. It’s over.”

  October ignored her. “Juanita, I must thank you. Poor Thimon was terrified when you told everybody where our headquarters were. But look, now you’re all here. In one place. It’s really worked out quite well.”

  A sudden realization hit me. I lifted up my hand so that half of October’s face was blocked. Just like the bandage that had covered his face in Three Forks.

  “You pretended to be Uncle John!” I shouted.

  October laughed. “Pretended to be Uncle John? If you’d bothered to look into your ridiculous genealogy, you’d realize that you don’t even have an Uncle John. You Baileys are so gullible.”

  Half of the superheroes behind me growled.

  I should have guessed it earlier. That’s why Thimon kept calling Uncle John. He was asking October what to do next.

  “Enough small talk.” October finally addressed the rest of the people in the room. “I must thank you all for gathering together. It will make the next steps much easier.”

  Juanita leaped forward, her fist pulled back ready to strike. October raised a hand and Juanita lifted into the air. She kicked with her feet, but was otherwise immobile.

  Benny ran forward, along with three other superheroes, but October lifted them all into the air.

  “Come now, Juanita,” October said. “Just because you didn’t see any Joneses with powers, you assumed that we were all powerless?” He tsked his tongue. “I must admit I’m disappointed. I expected such gullibility from the boys, but not from you.”

  October had his powers. That meant that the rest of the Joneses . . .

  I looked at the monitor. There were still several fights going on. Dad had one Jones backed into the corner of a hotel room. I called through my radio, “Dad, it’s a trap! The Joneses still have their powers.”

  A few of the superheroes in the room turned to go help the others.

  October rolled his eyes. “Have you really not figured it out? Have you never asked why we don’t simply get rid of your family? Why we go to all the pain of capturing you?”

  October reached up and knocked on the metal plate atop his skull. “And have you never wondered why we all appear to have chrome domes?”

  I didn’t say anything. I had wondered about those things, but I knew firsthand how impossible it was to find answers on the Joneses.

  Dad’s voice sounded in my ear. He was breathing hard. “If they have their powers, they sure didn’t put up much of a fight. I think we’re just about finished out here.”

  It was a trap. I just didn’t know what kind.

  “We’re not collecting superheroes,” October said. “We’re collecting powers.”

  He waved his hand, and I felt my stomach sink as I rose up several inches off the ground. “This power here? It’s courtesy of your old friend Charles. He wasn’t making good use of his power, letting three children defeat him, so now it’s mine. It’s much more useful in the hands of a genius.”

  October lifted both hands. I heard cries behind me. All of the superheroes now hovered in the air.

  “I was the one who made the breakthrough,” October said. “We’d been studying powers for years. My metal-plate technology was the first breakthrough in transferring powers, but we found the brain wouldn’t let go of a power unless you tricked it. Replaced the real power with a worthless one. I tried it out on my own blood first, and it worked well—the metal plates were just a little messy. Finally, I figured out how to make the technology digital, and I just had to try it on you idiots.”

  “You mean the other Joneses—” I started to say.

  “Oh, yes, Rafter Hans Bailey. All of the Joneses out there in the halls have a worthless power, just like you. As long as they live, their real powers are right here”—he tapped on his head—“with me, October Jones, Super-super. That is why I need all of you alive. Your powers are worth more to me than the satisfaction of saying good-bye to you forever.”

  October smiled that wicked, horrible smile. “Imagine an army of Super-supers. We’ll be using the power of the very people who are supposed to stop us. It’s deliciously ironic.”

  October’s hand glowed blue. Benny floated toward October Jones.

  “You,” October said, pointing at Mom. “Get on your radio and tell everybody in both your families I want them in this room in three minutes. If anyone tries to escape or stay behind, the little boy pays for it.”

  “I’m not little,” Benny scowled.

  “Let my son go.” I’d never heard Mom so angry. Her voice was cold.

  One of the Johnsons spoke up. “You can’t threaten children. We’ll work with you, but let the boy go.”

  October threw out his hand. Lightning flashed, arcing toward the Johnson and cutting a scorch mark in the wall above his head.

  “Now!” he shouted.

  There was nothing any of us could do. October had Benny.

  Mom explained the situation on the radio. Aunt Verna ran to the elevators and called them up to the thirteenth floor, one at a time. Group by group, the room filled up with superheroes.

  As I watched them file in, something caught the corner of my eye. Across the room, in the computer, the flash drive blinked green.

  My heart beat fast, like I’d just sprinted the length of a football field. I was sweating under my helmet, and I had the sudden desire to pull it off and breathe in fresh air. I tried to calm my panting but nothing helped. I only felt like I needed more air.

  October’s voice sounded smug. “I think we’re missing somebody. Not everyone who was invited to this party has arrived.”

  I looked around the room. I couldn’t see anybody who was missing. Even Juanita’s grandmother and the two Baileys who were with her in the taco truck were here. All of the superheroes were in one place, under the control of October Jones.

  The door to the warehouse flew open. A figure walked through the door. He had bits of duct tape stuck to his shirt and arms, but he had a smirk on his pinched face.

  Thimon Jones.

  26

  WELL, THAT WAS EASY

  Thimon strode into the room, cocky and cruel. It was clear that if Benny could break free from October’s grasp, he would have made up for not conking him earlier.

  As it was, we were all helpless. If we did anything, October would hurt Benny.

  “Well, that was easy.” Thimon walked directly toward me. “I have to admit, Uncle October, I was hoping for a bit more of a challenge.”

/>   Thimon stopped, his nose a few inches from mine. He picked a piece of tape from his shirt and stuck it to my helmet.

  The worst thing I could do was lose my temper. I focused on slowing my breathing.

  “You superheroes are so predictable,” Thimon said. “So easily distracted. It’s the simplest thing to keep you from doing your job. From doing something—anything—worthwhile.”

  My face grew hot. I breathed in through my nose, and out through my mouth. I counted three breaths before Thimon spoke again.

  “You know that story of me and my principal? And the horrible, horrible case of the spilled glitter? That was all true. The best lies are mostly truth. When my principal punished me for something I hadn’t done, I made a promise. Not a promise to stand up for those who are powerless. A promise to destroy those who have power.”

  Thimon had fooled me completely. I saw hate in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.

  “No more,” Thimon growled. “We’re about to give the world a wonderful gift. A world without superheroes. We’ll be the ones in control. Nobody will have power over us.”

  October ordered the families to stand in lines. He pushed Benny over against the far windows, still hanging in midair. If we tried anything, October would have no problem throwing him outside, or finding some other way to hurt him.

  Thimon and October spoke in hushed tones. Then, Thimon turned to face us. “All right, everybody take off your helmets. I don’t need to remind you what will happen to the little guy if you don’t obey.”

  “Will people please stop calling me little?” Benny yelled.

  Dad stepped forward. “Let Benny go. Take me hostage. Or any of us. Even you wouldn’t hurt—”

  October whirled on my father. His voice was twisted with anger. Spittle flew from his mouth when he spoke. “Do not make the mistake of assuming what I would or would not do. Your children have powers, and that makes them valuable to me. But they also made me look a fool last time I met them. It would not take much to convince me to make sure that they never get the opportunity to do that again.”