Better to Die a Hero

by Michael van Dagger

  “Who would have thought there was so much crap up here,” Steve said, landing on the far side of an air conditioning unit the size of a small moving van.

  With a light thud, Bryan landed beside him. “Yeah, a string of these rooftops makes a great obstacle course. Try and keep up,” Bryan said, vigorously pushing off. He began hurtling rooftop protrusions one after another. As he sprang over each, Steve could see that his friend’s thighs were starting to fill the once baggy underwear.

  “Is there one of those trap doors in the seat of your costume? Under those boxers,” Steve yelled from behind.

  Bryan remained silent. An expansive alleyway entered their path. The building across was one story higher than the current.

  “Uuuugh,” Bryan grunted, his body arced fifteen feet up and twenty feet over, arms and legs pumping the night air. A loud exhalation followed from behind as Steve executed the same vault.

  Steve had planned adding small amounts of acrobatics to these leaps, nothing on Nora’s level; however, it was all he could do to keep pace with Bryan. They covered over three miles of rooftops, in what Steve guessed was something under fifteen minutes. He continued to push and managed to stay on his friend’s six. For starting the powder a week sooner, Bryan had not progressed as fast as Steve or Nora. Tonight was an exception.

  His strenuous activity is paying off, Steve thought. He knew for a fact Bryan had gone out solo a least twice during the school week.

  “I hate to break it to you buddy but, I think you’re exercising.” Steve shouted, and then skidded to a halt. He tore off both the ski and eye mask. The rubber eye mask made his face burn. “I have to stop,” he shouted.

  Bryan stopped and spun, perspiration flew like a wet dog shaking off. He removed his own headgear. “These masks suck,” Bryan said, collapsing on the rooftop. He threw his gear to the side.

  Steve, hit by several foreign droplets, attempted to wipe them away only to find them lost in his own profuse lather. His disgust faded fast and he sat down envious of Bryan’s long cape. Steve pulled his sweatshirt up to dry his face, but gave up on the idea. His shirt was drenched as well.

  Steve crossed his eyes and watched the sweat drip from his nose. “We have got to bring some water with us next time. I’m thirsty as all hell.” He positioned his nose over a lose nail and attempted to hit it with the falling beads of perspiration.

  “I know what you mean,” Bryan said, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t bring any money with me either.”

  “I’ve got a couple of bucks,” Steve said, reaching into his pocket. “Maybe I could give it to you and you could drop down to a twenty-four hour convenience store and get us some water.”

  “Sure, why don’t we both go?”

  “I’m feeling a little shy at the moment.” Steve ran a hand through his wet hair. “I feel like a drowned rat.”

  “Okay,” Bryan said, taking the money. “Just give me a minute to rest. I still feel pretty good, but I can tell I need to drink something. We’ve got to remember just because we have superhuman strength doesn’t mean we can go without food and water.”

  “I know, I’ve been drinking and eating more since we started taking the powder, how about you?” Steve asked.

  Bryan rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, but not enough. I may have been making a mistake, assuming a heightened endurance would take care of itself.” Bryan stood up, his legs quivered briefly. He wiped the seat of his heart-covered boxers. “Feels like I lost a ton of water.” He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down the distance. “Stay put, I’ll find a place that’s open and come right back.” He hopped off the edge, his cape snapped straight and disappeared.

  “That did look cool, I may have to get me one of those.” Steve lay back on the hard surface and closed his eyes.

  * * *

  Steve awoke to the sound of footsteps ascending iron. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, his gaze fell on the masks beside him and the headgear piled a few feet away. He thought back, pictured Bryan jumping off the roof in search of water and sure enough, his friend’s face was not covered.

  “Damn, I thought I had some kind of heightened perceptions.” The young man slumped where he sat. He should have noticed and reminded his friend to put on the rest of his costume.

  Bryan emerged from the fire escape 15 seconds later. “Sorry that took so long, I had to walk all the way back.” He set a two-liter bottle of orange soda down and handed Steve a gallon jug of water. “I didn’t want to...” He gyrated at the hips and knees, his upper body staying implausibly still. “Shake up my soda. Oh, and by the way I forgot my mask.”

  “Yeah, I watched you leave. I was looking right at you and I didn’t even notice.” Steve popped the plastic top on the water and drank deeply. The cool water went on an osmotic trip through his body. It flowed internally through his legs, up his chest, through both shoulders and down both arms, bringing a wave of relief. A cold tickle crawled up his neck. Water spurted from a gland in the back of his mouth. “What did you do when you got to the store?” Steve asked, trying to ignore how dangerously dehydrated he’d let himself become.

  Bryan wiped soda from his chin. “I took off my cape and wrapped it around my waist and went in. Dude behind the counter didn’t notice a thing, dude looked dog-tired.” Bryan gulped more soda. “The guy barely looked up to make change.”

  “Keeping our identities secret may not be that important anyway.”

  “No, no,” Bryan said waving a finger, “We have to keep our identities secret.”

  “We only have enough powder to keep this up for one summer, then we should go public and take credit.”

  Bryan shook his head. “We can’t do that. We can never tell anyone and we can only run around powered up for one month. I need a lot of the powder left to analyze.”

  “To analyze?”

  “I’m changing my major to chemistry.”

  “Dude, your dad is going to shit, he’s going to explode. Seriously.”

  “I’m a superhero, nothing else matters.”

  “I thought we were just playing heroes for the summer.”

  “I’m going to unlock the powder’s secrets and you and I are going to be superheroes for the rest of our lives.”

  “Trust me,” Steve said, “Nobody likes being strong more than me. I absolutely love having the strength to jump two or three stories, but this superhero thing is not like it is in the comic books. We could run around all night for weeks and not see any crime.”

  “If you’re going to make a career of crime fighting, you don’t leave things to chance encounters,” Bryan said. “You find out who the villain is and you go after him. That’s what I intend to do and I expect you to be at my side.”

  “Okay buddy, I’m with you,” Steve lied. He knew his friend would come around eventually. “I’ve daydreamed about being powerful all my life and this does feel great, but one thing disappoints me, no super villains.”

  “That’s true,” Bryan said, letting out a large belch. “Damn!” he yelled, “No super villains!” He threw his arms up. “I never thought about that. What are the chances a second bottle of the powder is out there waiting to be discovered by some bad guys?”

  “Not good I’m afraid.”

  “Damn it, let’s see,” Bryan said, holding his stomach. “Steroids and supplements are advancing at a fast pace. Maybe someone will put together an army of muscle bound steroid freaks. High-tech is coming a long way too. Get this, maybe a super villain with high-tech body armor and weaponry.”

  “One can always hope,” Steve said, noticing Bryan’s growing discomfort.

  Grurgle!

  “What the hell was that?” Steve asked.

  “That was my gut,” Bryan said, rubbing his belly.

  Grurgle!

  “I’m really starting to percolate.” Bryan grimaced as the pressure built. The teenager contorted his face to the extreme in conjunction with the gas bubbling in his gut. A gurgle and his mouth stretched implausibly agape. A gurgle a
nd his face puckered, his eyes crossed. A gurgle and his lips twisted, then turned inside out. “Holy crap!” He jumped up and scurried to a secluded spot of the roof. “Don’t come over here.”

  “Oh Dude, the shit’s going to hit the fan.” Steve’s voice projected out over the rooftop, so did his laughter.

  Bryan stopped laughing. “Oh God,” he said, “I think I’m going to be here a while. Go run around for ten minutes... and stop laughing!” he shouted, “It’s not funny!”

  “Okay, okay,” Steve answered. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m okay,” he grunted. “Give me ten or fifteen minutes… you better make it twenty.”

  “There’s a lot of water left. I’m leaving it right here. If you’re smart you’ll switch to water.”

  “Yeah, yeah, switch to water,” Bryan said.

  Steve walked to the edge facing the alley. The darkness was so pervasive no clear landing spot presented itself. A leap from here looked like a good way to get a nail in the foot or a post up the butt. He sauntered over to the edge facing the street. Two moving cars, half a dozen night owls and all the light a superhero needed to make a safe landing. Maybe it was time to introduce the people of the world to New York’s first real superheroes. So far, their nights jaunt had taken them over deserted alleyways. Jumping down to an occupied street, bounding across, leaping the facade of a five-story building would be the biggest challenge of the evening, one that would be witnessed. He knew he couldn’t make it to the top of the far building in just one jump, although a drop from the same height didn’t hurt. He would have to hit and push off from something solid half way up, maybe a window ledge or that neon sign. He secured both masks. Loud flatulence from the far side of the roof, followed by Bryan’s agonizing “just kill me”, sent Steve over the edge of the building.

  He landed solid and in the middle of the street exactly as planned. He was, however, off in his timing. The car racing at him should not have been so close. An enormous upward spring carried him to the branch of a streetlight. Tires screeched below. The aluminum stem vibrated beneath his feet; the bulb popped. A second upward leap carried him just over the top of the target building. He landed low, on all fours and expelled a healthy groan that bordered on a growl.

  I am an animal, he screamed in his head.

  Steve sprang up high, spun in mid air like an excited house cat, then draped himself over the ledge. Two adults and a kid poured out of the car and searched upward in his direction. The young person let out a jolly “Hi” and waved an arm. Steve gave a friendly wave back, spun on the balls of his feet and bolted in the opposite direction.

  This was going to be big news. If this fantasy was to be over in a month, he was going to have some fun with it. All three of them would have to do some high profile runs together. He and Bryan could scout a few locations in Manhattan and hit them as a group during the daylight—maybe during rush hour. They would have to plan the route carefully though. A series of broken streetlights or shattered windows would be bad publicity.

  Steve ran full out and jumped the most expansive alley way yet, barely making it to the next building in a tuck and roll landing. The tar roof pressed his back, as developing muscles absorbed the impact, the momentum pushing him to his feet. Racing to the end of the block, only pedestrians in sight, he leapt outward falling several stories to the center of a vacant intersection, another safe and solid landing. He sprang upward and soared two stories high to the top of a neon restaurant sign that stuck out perpendicular to the building façade. He slammed the top of the sign flat footed and colorful sparks erupted from both sides, showering the sidewalk below. The neon flickered and turned dark.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Another jump and summersault carried him to the roof. He needed to change his strategy. Disconcerted, he decided to run six blocks along the length of the buildings then turn back, keeping to the rooftops. He wanted nothing more than to minimize the impact of his run. Destruction of city and personal property is not what they were about. Plus, if he wished to land lucrative endorsements at the end of this fantasy, it wouldn’t help to have a load of vandalism charges levied against him.

  Steve slowed pace; he was in no hurry to get back to the building Bryan was christening. He took his time and practiced somersaulting over the air-conditioning units in his path. He guessed up to twenty people witnessed his superhuman feats, so turning back was no longer an option. This would be a strange way to find fame, but a profitable one, he hoped. His trip back, filled with the rehearsals of appearances on the late night talk shows, was pleasant. For the sake of his and Bryan’s friendship, he vowed not to be the one that got them caught. It would be up to his lanky friend to make the mistakes, but with Bryan doing things like going full costumed into a store without a mask, getting caught wouldn’t be a problem. He came full circle and the daydreamer hoped Bryan had finished his business.

  “Hey, buddy. How do you feel?” Steve asked, walking out of the shadows.

  “A lot better,” Bryan said, slapping his belly. “Take a look at the water.” Bryan pointed to the plastic jug.

  Steve picked up the empty container. “Very good, you have to start eating like an athlete now.”

  Bryan blew a raspberry.

  “Where’s your cape?”

  “Back there.” Bryan pointed. “I had to wipe my ass with something. Could you go get it for me?”

  “Not a chance poopy pants. Do you really feel okay? Can you run back to the car?”

  “Oh yeah,” he replied. “Honest, I feel good, especially after drinking that water.”

  “Well, I’m actually a little tired,” Steve said, “mind if we walk some of the way back?”

  Bryan face lit up. “Sure, we can do that.”

  Steve enjoyed the crisp spring air as they walked in silence. He exhaled hard and watched his breath flow out the small holes of the ski mask. “I think Nora has the right idea with the face paint,” he said, “these masks are okay for short periods of time, but not for hours.”

  “My scalp itches so much, I could scream.” Bryan ripped the cap from his head and furiously scratched his matted hair.

  “Don’t even put the cap back on,” Steve suggested. “Just wear your ski mask and goggles. They hide your identity well enough.”

  “I think I’ll try that.”

  “Since you plan on being a hero for the rest of your life, I’m guessing that you’re going to have a secret identity.”

  “I have to,” Bryan replied, stuffing the cap down the front of his boxers. “If my identity were ever to become public my family would be at risk. And my abilities to carry out my duties would be compromised.” He strapped on the goggles then arranged the cap in is pants to create the biggest bulge possible.

  “Do you plan to be Ectoman your whole crime fighting career?”

  “No this is just a working costume and title. I plan to come up with something much better.”

  Steve sighed in relief. He didn’t know if Bryan could unlock the secrets of the powder and live a life enriched with superhuman abilities, but at least his friend was taking the naming process more seriously. “Got any ideas on what you’ll call yourself?”

  “Not yet, but it will come to me. And when it does you can bet it will be extremely funny.”

  “Oh man.” Steve shook his head. “I thought you were finally going for something cool or macho.”

  “No way, comedy will give me an edge over the villains. They won’t take me seriously and that will be their undoing.”

  “Well, I can’t argue with that.” Bryan’s humor had certainly proven useful in gaming and school.

  They reached the end of a block and surveyed the street and alley for movement like they had done several times before.

  “Don’t tell me we may actually have some action here,” Bryan said.

  As they spied from the building top, a man and a woman walked into the alley. A few lit windows made this alley less ominous than most they had crossed thi
s night.

  “I don’t think he intends on hurting her,” Steve said as the man opened his wallet and handed money to the woman.

  “Oh shit,” Bryan said, as the man’s pants dropped and the woman squatted down in front of him. “I can’t believe we’re seeing this.”

  “This isn’t right,” Steve whispered. “We should go.”

  “What if this guy is a serial killer and tries to slice and dice her after they’re done. Wouldn’t you feel bad if you left?” Bryan took his aviator cap out of his pants and placed it back on. “Watch this.”

  Bryan vanished from place and descended straight for the pair. He landed loudly a mere foot from the two. The man’s shriek exploded into the night. A scream so fraught with agony, Steve nearly bent over from a sympathy pain that shot up from his own groin to the pit of his stomach.

  Bryan’s upward leap was a blur to the normal eye. Bouncing from wall to wall like a pinball, he then landed on the roof opposite Steve. Horror-struck, neither boy looked back as they ran full out to the car parked several miles away.

  * * *

  New York Journal:

  “Hello, I’m Michelle O’Donnell and welcome to tonight’s edition of New York Journal. Tonight’s top story is a doozy. They’ve been in the comic books for years. They’ve entertained your kids on Saturday mornings and their box-office receipts gross in the billions.”

  “What are we talking about? Superheroes. And Now New York may just have the real thing. Several eyewitness accounts from the Bronx have been coming in claiming the sighting of real live superheroes. These eyewitness accounts number at thirteen to date and have one and sometimes two individuals jumping around the Bronx in costume, one even wearing a cape. Now you’ve been hearing these accounts for the past couple of days, but New York Journal has obtained exclusive footage you won’t see any place else. In this footage, you will see two individuals fitting the descriptions in the eyewitness accounts and you won’t believe what they’re doing. Let’s roll that tape.” ————