The Legacy Superhero Omnibus

by Lucas Flint

  “Of course,” I said. “Everyone in my family does. Heck, everyone in Rumsfeld knows that.”

  TW stopped and looked at me curiously. “But did anyone ever tell you how he became Trickshot?”

  I frowned. “Well, I assume he just passed the Superhero Exam and got injected with Superpower, like everyone else.”

  “He did pass the Superhero Exam, that’s true, and was injected with Superpower, that is also true,” said TW. “But there is a lot more to his story than that. And it involves the Watch you’re currently wearing on your wrist.”

  I looked down at the Trickshot Watch. “This? I’m pretty sure Grandfather just wore this as part of his costume, right?”

  “Wrong,” TW said. “The Trickshot Watch is more than just a fancy bit of technology. It is the source of Trickshot’s powers itself.”

  “What? Really?” I said in surprise. “That doesn’t make sense. Technology can’t give you powers. Only drugs like Superpower can.”

  “Then how did you manage to use Trickshot’s powers earlier?” said TW. “You used almost all of them. Super strength, perfect aim, and even durability. You also partially flew. It looked like a jump, but you were actually using very limited flight to help you jump greater distances that you normally could.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but when TW put it that way, I had a hard time disagreeing.

  So instead, I said, “But how does that work? I’ve never heard of a superhero gaining their powers from technology or costume.”

  “The world is a lot bigger than you think,” TW replied. “Earlier, I said that the Trickshot Watch is not entirely made of human technology. What I meant by that was that the Watch—and the suit it creates—were found fifty years ago in a crashed alien spaceship found in Nevada.”

  “Wait, now you’re telling me aliens exist?” I said in disbelief. “Come on. Everyone knows that aliens aren’t real.”

  TW smiled. “Believe what you want, but this is the truth. Let me show you a hologram of the alien spaceship in question.”

  TW held out a hand and another, smaller hologram appeared in his palm. It was a hologram of what looked like a crashed spaceship half-buried underneath tons of sand. It looked almost like a regular NASA spaceship, but then I noticed that it was shaped more like a saucer than a rocket and seemed much bigger than any spacecraft created by humans.

  “All right, I believe you,” I said. “So the suit was the source of Grandfather’s powers, not Superpower.”

  “Exactly,” said TW. He closed his fist and the hologram vanished. “The suit itself is made out of pure energy, as you noticed when you first put it on. It instantly adapts to the weight, size, and body shape of the user, meaning that anyone who uses the Watch can wear it easily.”

  “Cool,” I said. “But why was Grandfather given the Watch in the first place?”

  “That, I do not know,” said TW. “I know that Gregory wanted to become a superhero, but I don’t know the exact circumstances under which he received it. All I know is that I was programmed to serve him or anyone else who uses the Watch. Beyond that, I know nothing.”

  “But you do know why Grandfather sent me the Watch,” I said. “And you know where he is.”

  “Yes and no,” said TW. “Yes, I know why your grandfather sent you the Watch, but no, I don’t know where he is.”

  “What?” I said. “How can you not know where he is?”

  “Because I have no way to track him,” said TW with a shrug. “Or his location, for that matter. The Watch does have limited tracking capabilities, but in order for me to track anyone, I need to be able to access any computers or devices they have on them. Gregory doesn’t have any tech on him at the moment. As well, I believe that Icon is blocking my tracking tech, though I don’t know for sure.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. I had hoped that TW might help me find Grandfather when he told me he had belonged to him, but now, it was obvious that I would never find Grandfather, at least not anytime soon. “All right. Tell me why Grandfather sent you to me.”

  “He wanted you to protect Rumsfeld from a threat,” said TW.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Could you be a bit more specific about what ‘threat’ he’s referring to? Because there are lots of things that threaten Rumsfeld. Drug dealers, crime, businesses closing down, teenage pregnancy … all of these things are pretty threatening in their own right.”

  TW shrugged again. “I don’t know for sure what threat Gregory wanted you to defeat. I only know what he told me, and he didn’t tell me much, because getting me out of the place where he is held captive required a lot of effort and secrecy on his part. I believe it had something to do with the Injectors, however.”

  “Really?” I said. I leaned forward. “Can you elaborate on that?”

  “I seem to recall Gregory mentioning something about the Injectors posing a threat to Rumsfeld,” said TW. “But I don’t know for sure. All I know is that I was given the task of helping you to use your new powers to defend Rumsfeld.”

  “But Rumsfeld already has a superhero,” I said. “Doesn’t Grandfather know that?”

  “I am not sure,” said TW. “It doesn’t seem likely to me that he does, given how long Gregory has been in captivity with little connection to the outside world. Regardless, Gregory wants you to have the Watch and to learn how to use its powers in order to become Rumsfeld’s newest protector.”

  I thought about that. TW’s story was really wild, almost impossible to believe, but at the same time, I had seen too much evidence of weird stuff happening to just dismiss it as a prank or some kind of deception. I believed that TW was really telling me the truth, or as much of the truth as he knew, anyway.

  I still had a lot of questions, questions that even TW could not answer, but at the same time, I was already starting to see the possibilities that the Watch would give me. With the powers of Trickshot at my command, I would be able to not only fight the Injectors, but maybe even defeat them. I could avenge Thomas and free Rumsfeld of its Power problem. Bug Bite might have failed to stop them, but the Injectors wouldn’t know what hit them, especially once I mastered these new powers and became really proficient at using them.

  “Sounds great,” I said, looking up at TW again. “Stopping the Injectors is a noble cause and, while I’ve never really wanted to be a superhero, I think being a superhero could be a lot of fun. I accept.”

  “Excellent,” said TW, nodding. “Gregory told me that you would accept once I explained the situation to you. It seems that you are more like your grandfather than even he knows.”

  I smiled. “Well, what can I say? Maybe fighting crime really does run in the blood after all.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After my conversation with TW, I took a long nap, because I was still exhausted from my fight with the Injectors. But I didn’t sleep nearly as well as I should have, because my mind was aflame with curiosity over the news and information TW had shared with me.

  First off, Grandfather was still alive. For ten years, my parents and I had been wondering whether we would ever see him again. Now I knew for a fact that he was still alive. I didn’t know where he was or how well he was doing, but just knowing that he was somewhere in this world made me feel much better than I had in a long time.

  Now I wondered who these Icon people were. TW’s explanation of them didn’t help. Whoever they were and whatever they were trying to do, they probably weren’t good people. I mean, they kidnapped Grandfather and held him prisoner for the last ten years. That’s not the behavior of good guys. It’s the behavior of bad guys who are probably planning something evil.

  Still, there was nothing I could do about Icon or Grandfather at the moment. Wherever he was, Grandfather was probably going to be okay for now, because Grandfather was a tough guy who could take care of himself. Besides, it didn’t sound like Icon was trying to kill or torture him, so I didn’t have any reason to rush to his rescue right away.

  What I really needed to focus on w
as defeating the Injectors. With the powers of Trickshot under my belt (or, rather, on my wrist), I suddenly had the chance to do what I always dreamed of doing. There was still a lot I didn’t know about my new powers and abilities, of course, but if my fight with the Injectors went as well as my fight with those seven Injectors in the backyard of that house, then pretty soon Rumsfeld wouldn’t have an Injector problem anymore.

  Of course, there was still the problem of being an illegal superhero. I had never taken the Superhero Exam before, much less passed it. Using superpowers without a valid superhero license could get you arrested. In some states, you could even be executed for it. Granted, that was mostly because anyone using superpowers with a license likely got them from Power, but somehow I doubted that the federal government would believe me if I told them that my powers came from my costume, rather than from an illegal injection of Power.

  But I would worry about the details later. For now, I would use every opportunity I could find to practice and refine my skills. I doubted I would need to spend much time practicing, however. After all, I’d already defeated seven Injectors by myself. With just a few more days of practice, I would probably be strong enough to take down the entire organization all by myself.

  How long I slept, I didn’t know, but it must have been a few hours at least, because I didn’t wake up right away even when I heard Mom knocking loudly on the door to my room. A quick glance at the Watch showed me that yes, I had been asleep for a few hours—it was just after lunch—which explained why I felt so groggy.

  “Jack!” Mom shouted, her voice jarringly loud despite being on the other side of the door. “Are you awake? There’s someone who would like to meet you.”

  I blinked several times and, yawning,raised my head and said, “Who is it?”

  “A detective from the police,” said Mom. “She’s really rather young for her job, but she’s got the badge and everything. She wants to talk to you about your incident with the Injectors earlier because she’s filing a detailed report.”

  I frowned. It seemed strange to me that the police would send a detective to interview me when I had already told them everything I knew, and it was even stranger that they would do it so soon after I got home. Maybe there was a detail or two they needed clarification on.

  In any case, I sat up and shouted, “Okay, Mom, I’ll be right there. Just let me put my shoes on.”

  I hopped off my bed and pulled on my shoes. As I tied the laces, I glanced at the Trickshot Watch on my wrist. I had not taken it off when I took a nap earlier. It was so light that I couldn’t even feel it, but for some reason I didn’t think it would be wise to take my watch downstairs with me this time.

  So I removed the Watch from my wrist and tossed it in the top drawer of my dresser, pulling one of my old plain T-shirts over it quickly for safety reasons. Then I left the room and made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where I heard voices speaking. I recognized Mom’s voice, as well as Dad’s voice, but I didn’t recognize the third voice, which sounded like a young twenty-something woman. It must be the detective, though she sounded more like a college student than a detective.

  Entering the kitchen, I saw Mom and Dad sitting around the kitchen table. Mom, as usual, wore her favorite green dress, while Dad was still in his dirty construction jacket and jeans. Dad and I looked very similar to each other, the only difference being that I was taller and thinner than him. Dad’s years of construction work had left him with hard, tanned skin and a very stout body that was much stronger than it looked. His construction hat sat on the table in front of him, while he held a beer in his other hand that he had obviously just opened, based on how full it was.

  Sitting across from Mom and Dad was a young woman I had never seen before in my life. She was very short and petite, to the point where I would have mistaken her for one of my classmates if I didn’t know that she was an adult. She wore a simple business suit that made her look very official, though it also looked awkward on her, as if she didn’t usually wear suits. Her blonde hair was straight and clean, almost sparkling it was so clean.

  Dad was the first one to notice me. His hard eyes glanced in my direction and he smiled, crinkling the skin around his eyes. “Hey, Jack. How are you feeling? I got back from work as fast as I could when I heard about those damned Injectors who tried to kill you.”

  “I’m fine, Dad,” I said, smiling back. “I didn’t get hurt. Just really scared, but I’m going to be all right, I think.”

  “I still can’t believe that happened,” said Dad, shaking his head. “Getting attacked by the Injectors of all people … boy, if I had been there, I would have sent every last one of those monsters to the hospital.”

  I couldn’t help but smile even more. Dad may not have been a superhero like Grandfather, but he had the strongest sense of justice of anyone I knew and was incredibly protective of Mom and I. It was nice to know that he managed to get off work to come back home and make sure I was okay. It made today seem better than it was.

  “If you’re done bragging about how you would beat up a bunch of drug dealers with guns, then maybe you can introduce me to your son,” said the young woman, leaning back in her chair and looking over at me. “Unless you just want to sit around and waste time talking, that is.”

  Maybe it wasn’t entirely fair, but I immediately disliked this lady. Based on the way Mom and Dad looked at each other, I could tell that they didn’t like her anymore than I did.

  But I didn’t say that aloud. I just waved at her and said, in a polite voice, “I can introduce myself. I’m Jack McDonald. You’re—?”

  “Detective Christina Madison,” said the woman. She pulled out a police badge and flashed it at me. “I work for the City of Rumsfeld Police Department. It’s my job to follow up on cases involving the Injectors and other drug dealers.”

  “That seems like a kind of specific title for a small city police department,” I said, tilting my head to the side.

  “There is a lot of drug dealing out here,” said Christina. “Especially from the Injectors. You’d never guess, given how idyllic this place seems, but I guess every city has its dark side, eh?”

  “I take it you’re not from around here?” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Christina, nodding. “I’m from New York City. Moved out here because it’s cheaper and it’s the only place I could find a job. Otherwise, I’d be back in NYC where I’d have to deal with less drugs than you find out here.”

  I bit my lower lip. I couldn’t tell if Christina was trying to provoke me into responding to her negatively or if this was just her personality. I would have responded in kind, but I could tell that Mom and Dad wouldn’t like that, so I decided to take a more diplomatic approach.

  Taking a seat at the table next to Mom, I said, “So you’re here to ask me more questions about the attack?”

  “Right,” said Christina. “More specifically, I’d like to ask you about the unidentified individual who saved you.”

  “I already told the police what happened,” I said. “I didn’t see the guy who saved me because I was hiding in that tool shed. The shed didn’t have any windows and the door was closed, so I couldn’t see anything. All I heard was the sounds of the Injectors fighting the guy. I don’t even know what his name is.”

  Christina rested her chin on her hand, looking at me with penetrating eyes. “Yes, I’m aware of what you told the police, but I’m just trying to make sure you didn’t leave out any details accidentally. I have a talent for helping people remember things they forgot in the heat of the moment. It’s why I’m so good at what I do.”

  Humility was definitely not one of her defining character traits, but I said, “Well, I’m not sure how your talent will help me, because if I didn’t see anything, how could I forget it?”

  “The human mind has an interesting way of remembering the strangest things, but putting that memory out of normal reach,” said Christina. She pulled out her phone and began tapping the screen. “I have a picture whi
ch might jog your memory. It was taken by one of the neighbors of the house you were at. It’s not very good, because the neighbor in question was trying to avoid drawing the attention of the Injectors, but it should be clear enough for our purposes. Ah, here it is.”

  Christina turned her phone toward me. My parents and I leaned forward to get a better look at the picture, but as soon as I saw it, my palms became sweaty and I wished that I was anywhere else right now.

  The picture showed me, in my Trickshot costume, talking on the phone to Jones. And the door to the shed was open, revealing that I wasn’t in there at all.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I would have jumped up and run away just then, but I knew that that would just make me look guilty. Instead, I looked up at Christina and said, “Who is that?”

  “The man who defeated the Injectors who were trying to kill you, presumably,” said Christina, putting the phone on the table. “According to the witness I spoke to, after he defeated the Injectors, he was seen speaking on the phone that belonged to one of the Injectors, though we don’t know where he went after that, because the witness went back into her house after that to call the police and inform them of the Injector attack. When she came back out to see if he was still there, he was gone and the tool shed’s door was closed.”

  This seemed like an absurd amount of investigation for a detective from a small city police department, especially in such a short amount of time. Maybe Christina really was as good as she said she was. If so, then I would have to tread very carefully around her in order to avoid revealing that Trickshot and I were the same person.

  “But I don’t get the guy’s getup,” said Dad before I could respond. He gestured at the picture on the phone. “I recognize that costume. That’s my dad’s Trickshot costume, back when he was a superhero.”