“Why?”
“Riot. Some snot-nosed pop star didn’t show up to a sold-out concert. The fans are taking their disappointment out on the city.”
“The Prospects aren’t trained for crowd control.”
“Screw training. All they have to do is stand behind the cops. That scares lots of rioters into settling down real fast.”
“What about the reserve superheroes?”
“It’s Saturday night. They’ve got their own beats to worry about. This mission requires so little skill I already called the Young Sentinels to help. Oh, and take that psychic girl. We don’t want her wandering the tower alone.” Jim hung up.
“For two months we never got called on a mission,” said Gale Force. “This is our second one in three days.”
Alex took a first aid kit from the wall and handed it to Goldstreak. “Do what you can with this. Vijay, get in your costume and meet us at the van.”
“Can I bring the sonic rifle?” asked Vijay.
“Sure.”
“Wait,” said Zany, “Trista doesn’t have to wear her costume?”
“I’m not going to make her go out in lingerie on a cold night like this.”
“I call shotgun.” Goldstreak sprinted out the door before his dropped fork hit the tray. Vijay – now Asura with his sonic rifle and in his black-and-green trenchcoat - caught up just as the doors were closing.
The rest of the team poured into the unmarked white van. From Griffin Tower they could hear the shouts from rioters and police orders delivered with bullhorns.
Alex noticed Candilyn holding her jester’s stick below her broad excited smile.
“Zany, take the spikes off.”
“Oh, come on!”
“No spikes.”
She grumbled and twisted the spikes off.
Alex took off his pistol and handed it, along with the tablet, to Goldstreak. “Put these in the glove compartment.” He patted the handcuffs in his hooded sweatshirt pocket and raised his smartphone. “Where do you want us, Mister Griffin?”
“Go to 34th Street. The riot is spreading there. The Young Sentinels are holding strong at 32th Street.”
“Why did you call him Mister Griffin?” asked Asura. “Usually you call him Jim.”
“He’s Jim when we’re not on a mission,” said Alex. “We use our codenames when in action so we feel like superheroes.”
Goldstreak went through the first aid kit. “Wearing costumes isn’t enough?”
“They’re only clothes. Anyone can wear those.”
“What about being a superhero?” asked Zany.
“It’s easy to forget who you are in combat.” Alex leaned forward to look through the windshield. “We’re downwind of the tear gas, so there’s no shame in crying.”
“Sarge locked us in a tear gas-filled room,” said Asura, “for two hours.”
“We were covered in each other’s snots,” said Zany.
“It won’t be that concentrated,” said Alex. “Gale Force, use your powers to send the gas back onto the crowd and away from the cops. Asura, if there’s a hole in the police line use the rifle on its lowest settings. Only take a shot if you’re sure you won’t hit a cop. Zany, protect your teammates if the police line falls apart. Fight defensively. If you charge again … I’ll ask Sarge for a discipline suggestion.”
Zany adjusted her nose bandage. “I’ll be good.”
“Goldstreak, run around and help anyone who needs it. Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
“What about me?” asked Trista.
“Stay with me. We’ll circle the perimeter to find trouble spots.”
Trista tugged at her nullifier’s headstrap. “I can do more without this.”
Alex held the nullifier’s key. “If things get bad, I’ll take it off. Let’s get through this without anyone getting hurt. If we can’t, all I can say is I trained you the best I could with the time I had.”
Once again, Alex felt naked going into battle without his exoskeleton. He missed knowing he could shove his way through the crowd to save someone or withstand a thrown bricks without a bruise. He really missed his helmet’s parabolic auditory and low-light visual enhancements, because the noise was deafening and the occasional flashes of fire ruined his night vision.
And he especially missed everyone knowing who he was in the armor. Without it, he had to deal with the police officers who were pointing their nightsticks at him.
Alex pulled out his badge.
A cop pointed his stick at Trista. “Where’s hers?”
“Special permission.”
The cop shook his head. “No badge, she doesn’t go. And what’s with her stupid helmet?”
“Listen, she’s …” That was when the barrier fell beneath a surge of frenzied hard rock fans. The police rushed forward to hold them back, but the crowd responded with a greater push forward.
Alex grabbed Trista’s hand and ran behind a police car. The mob surged against a dozen charging police officers.
Trista grabbed Alex’s collar and shouted into his ear. “I know that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The one in the middle. He’s wearing a gas mask. He’s doing this.”
Alex climbed to the roof of the police car and pulled Trista up. In the middle of the riot a man in a tattered trench coat and an antique gas mask with a multicolored mohawk stood in an empty circle.
“Who’s that?” Alex asked.
“He called himself Lord Mosh. He wanted to join the Ultra-Geniuses. He can …”
Lord Mosh pointed in their direction. The mob broke though the police line and slammed against the car. As Alex struggled to keep his footing he saw the Young Sentinels on the other side of the riot. The good-looking kids in their stainless shiny costumes looked terrified.
Alex put the key into the psychic nullifier and took it off Trista. “Stay on this car,” said Alex.
Trista looked into the eyes of the closest rioter. He stopped and lowered his raised fist. The next person dropped the board he was wielding and looked confused. The next one, a huge man, turned and pushed the other rioters back.
Cradling the nullifier like a football, Alex leapt off of the car. He ran alongside the surge, slipping past the police as they regained the line. When he got inside the barrier, his head began to feel warm. His heart pounded faster as he thought of all the goddamn idiots, all of these assholes tearing apart his …
It was a psychic attack. He had been hit by enough of them to know when his thoughts were being influenced.
It couldn’t have been from Trista, she was behind him and couldn’t make eye contact. Everyone around him was raging, and these were people who probably held good jobs and had families.
It must be Lord Mosh making everyone instantly angry.
Alex remembered that psychic nullifiers not only make it impossible for the wearer to generate psychic energy, they also act like a shield against outside attacks. He forced the nullifier onto his own head. The feeling instantly disappeared.
To his right he heard a scream. The mob had broken through the barrier between them and the Young Sentinels. Many hands grabbed Cantrip’s tuxedo tails. The young magician screamed, “Help me!” as Rock Jock, a living statue with football pads, shoved against the swarming crowd.
Being the kind of man who would defend someone in trouble, Alex attacked the mob from the rear. He remembered Sarge’s voice: “If you can count high enough to know you’re outnumbered, surprise them.” He caught one rioter in a headlock and threw a roundhouse kick into another one’s spine. The mob seemed so intent on Cantrip they ignored Alex as he dispatched of them one at a time.
Before Alex could get to the last rioter, a thin young man wearing every color in the rainbow pulled Cantrip free while a statuesque girl in a skintight red bodysuit and boxing gloves punched everyone around him. It was Pinwheel and Knockout Rose, the flamboyant gay sidekick to Stardancer and the girl who always got caught and tied up in the comics.
Alex met t
hem before when he was wearing his exoskeleton. They didn’t recognize Alex without it.
Pinwheel created a blinding blast of spinning lights and Knockout Rose landed a solid right cross on Alex’s chin.
Alex stumbled back into the crowd, blinked furiously until his vision returned, and looked back. The police who closed the barrier’s gap in front of Trista were retreating. He jumped and saw Lord Mosh pointing at Trista with both hands.
Ducking his head, Alex charged through the crowd. He jumped over the downed, evaded anyone bigger than him, and plowed through anyone else. He ran past Lord Mosh and circled back until he was directly behind the villain.
Alex remembered Sarge’s words: “Hitting from behind is a sissy move, but if you gotta do it, hit hard!” He took the nullifier off and pounced. The killing rage filled him until he slammed the nullifier on Lord Mosh’s head. Before Lord Mosh could get it off Alex kicked the back of his ankles to take him down.
Alex handcuffed Lord Mosh.
The villain yelled, “No! Not yet! I didn’t finish them off!”
The rioters around Alex ceased. A ripple of peace took the aggression out of them.
But down the block the rioters were more vicious than ever. They rocked the police car Trista stood on.
Trista fell into the crowd.
Alex abandoned Lord Mosh and ran through the dazed crowd of former rioters. He ran faster than the peaceful sensation, throwing into the ones who were still berserk. In the midst of the flailing arms and feet he saw a girl in a blue sweatshirt in a fetal position on the ground.
Without hesitation Alex dove for the blue sweatshirt. He threw himself over her body and wrapped his hands around her head, withstanding kicks and punches to protect her. She struggled furiously.
Alex put his mouth to her ear and said, “It’s me. I’ll protect you.”
Dozens of feet trampled Alex before the rioters calmed down. The girl beneath him struggled. All the shouts slowly turned into a deep melody.
Alex slowly lifted his head. Trista stood in front of him. To the left and right the rioters who were beating Alex now held hands and sang Kumbaya.
It took Alex a while to realize that if Trista was in front of him, she couldn’t be under him. He got up quickly. It was a girl in a blue sweatshirt with black hair but with a very different face than Trista’s.
“Get off me, you pervert!” She slapped Alex and ran away.
Trista extended a hand. “You look hurt.”
A cut above Alex’s eye bled. His arms and legs throbbed from the assault.
Alex tried to get to his feet without taking her hand but stumbled. He took Trista’s hand to stand.
After wiping away the blood over his eye he said, “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
Alex realized he made eye contact with her, but he didn’t feel the tingling sensation under his skull.
“Why did you dive into the crowd?” asked Trista.
“I thought that was you.”
“Really? Our shirts aren’t even the same shade of blue.”
“This is why we wear costumes. Heroes and villains need to be able to tell each other apart from civilians.”
“What happened to Lord Mosh?”
“Ah, shit!”
Alex spun around. He was about to run when he saw the Young Sentinels manhandle the Lord Mosh, who was still wearing handcuffs and a psychic nullifier. Stardancer, a lithe blonde in a sparkling leotard and tights, strutted and shouted, “We got him! The Young Sentinels saved the day!”
Trista pointed. “You took him down, but they’re taking the credit.”
“The city is safe. That’s all the credit I need.”
“Earlier today you told Jenny she was too modest.”
“I work for the government. No one appreciates what I do. When was the last time you saw a news story about the government doing something right?”
A streak of gold briefly surrounded Alex. It ended with Goldstreak coming to a stop.
“I put my last band-aid on the cut,” he said through heavy breaths.
“Thanks. How’s the rest of the team?”
“Not a scratch. They’re still at Thirty-Forth Street.”
“Go join them. Trista and I will catch up.”
As they walked Trista said, “So you abandoned a villain and fought through a riot to save me?”
“But you didn’t need saving.”
“And I ended up saving you.”
“Thanks for that. And thanks for not escaping.”
“You haven’t made my life hell, and you trusted me enough to remove the nullifier. It would’ve been wrong to betray you.”
“Sure would have been. I would’ve looked stupid if you walked away.”
“I hope this makes it easier for you to forgive me for what I did to two years ago.”
“Why is forgiveness so important to you?”
“I feel like I need it.”
“If you were a guy, we’d split a six pack and not discuss our feelings.”
“If I were a guy, it would take more than beer for you to forget kissing my butt.”
“Did you have to bring that up?”
“It’s something that happened. I’m ashamed of it.”
“Every time we talk, we end up with more things we can’t talk about.”
Alex looked at Trista as they walked in silence. Her eyes were downcast and her lips were in the familiar frown. Once he saw her as terrifying and tragic, now she was only tragic. She was the runt in a pack of losers and a magnet for abuse.
But when he thought about forgiving her, he remembered missing Calvin’s birth and not seeing Emily again until a month later. He would never get that time back. That had to be one reason Emily wanted to divorce him. He couldn’t forgive Trista for the damage she did to his life. Even lying and saying he could felt wrong.
The rest of the Prospects waited at 34th Street.
Zany grinned broadly. “I stayed defensive. I only bashed heads when they got past the cops.”
“At least she got some action,” said Asura. “All the circuitry shook loose from this stupid rifle. It’d be easier to rebuild than fix at this point.”
“We kept the tear gas away,” said Gale Force. “None of us cried.”
Alex pulled out his smartphone. New cracks completely filled the screen. “Damn it, I have to call the bureau.”
Asura tapped his wrist-mounted tablet. “I can hack into your phone to retrieve the number and make the call. With your permission, of course.”
“Do it.”
Asura pressed a few icons. Alex’s smartphone wallpaper appeared on Asura’s wrist-mounted tablet. “Hey, who’s the cutie?”
“My wife.”
“A little round in the middle, but …”
“She was pregnant. Look under contacts for MAB.”
Asura pressed a few icons. Alex’s smartphone lit up. A MAB contact answered.
Alex said into the phone, “Agent O’Farrell here. I need a new psychic nullifier delivered to Griffin Tower immediately,” and hung up. “Nothing personal, Trista, but …”
“It’s a probation requirement,” she said. “With Idea Man on the loose, I feel safer with it on. I don’t think he’ll be able to get through its protection.”
“Pardon me,” said a boy with a nasal lisp that made his southern accent extra effeminate. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of an introduction.”
Alex turned. Behind him was the boy in a rainbow-colored costume and the redheaded girl in an incredibly tight bodysuit and boxing gloves.
“Pinwheel and Knockout Rose, meet the Prospects.”
Knockout Rose cocked her head. “Didn’t I just punch you in the chin?”
Alex pulled out his badge. “Agent O’Farrell, MAB.” He didn’t want to remind Pinwheel they had met before, while Alex was behind Agent Exo’s reflective face screen.
Knockout Rose stepped back and raised her gloves in contrition. “I didn’t mean to slug an agent.”<
br />
“And I didn’t mean to blind one,” said Pinwheel. “We offer our most sincere apologies. Please don’t press charges.”
Alex rubbed his jaw. “Don’t worry. You were protecting your friend.”
“You should wear a costume or a uniform,” said Knockout Rose. “It’s the only way we can tell who’s on what side.”
“It also keeps the police from hassling us heroes.” Pinwheel moved his hands down his multi-colored suit. “And if you could wear a fabulous costume, why wouldn’t you?”
Knockout Rose pointed a glove at Gale Force. “You auditioned for us a couple of weeks ago, didn’t you? Janet? Jessie?”
“Jenny,” said Gale Force.
“You have wind powers, right? I voted to accept you, but ...”
“Rock Jock said I was fat enough to kill his thing for Asian chicks.”
“Rock Jock says stupid things,” said Pinwheel. “He’s probably saying stupid things right now. We should go and control the damage.”
Knockout Rose waved her glove. “Nice meeting you.”
As they walked away Asura snickered. “That dude is gayer than Froot Loops in a rainbow.”
“Is her costume painted on?” said Zany. “I saw navel and nipples but no wrinkles.”
“She’s got the body for it,” said Deon.
“You’re drooling,” said Jenny.
“The rest of the Young Sentinels are posing for cameras,” said Alex. “Those two were smart enough to check out the metahumans they didn’t know. Everyone, take note of that.”
“What’s next for us?” asked Goldstreak.
"What can I say? All of you did great tonight, much better than I thought you could have this morning.”
“You trained us the best you could with the time you had,” said Gale Force.
Zany pointed to the van. “Should we get back to our cold rabbit food?”
“I have a better idea.” Alex pointed to a neon sign across the street. “This team deserves to eat pizza like there’s no morning training.”
Chapter Eleven
Major Disappointment laughed and threw his hooded head back. “That’s right! In only two minutes, my bomb will blow up the dam! And, along with it, Knockout Rose! HAHAHAHA!”
Knockout Rose wriggled against the ropes that tied her boxing gloves above her head to a support pillar. “Oh, won’t someone save me?” At her feet the timer on a roll of dynamite sticks ticked to 2:00.
The Prospects Page 11