The Legacy Superhero Omnibus

Home > Young Adult > The Legacy Superhero Omnibus > Page 9
The Legacy Superhero Omnibus Page 9

by Lucas Flint


  I told Kyle about my encounter with Christina Madison and the subsequent phone call from the police that proved she was a fake.

  Behind his large glasses, Kyle’s eyes grew wide with worry. “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not,” I said. “And I suspect that this woman, whoever she really is, works for the Injectors. They’re trying to find the guy who saved me so they can kill him, but I bet they’re going to try to kill me, too.”

  “No doubt,” said Kyle. “By the way, do you know who saved you yet? I’ve heard rumors from all over, but no one seems to agree.”

  I hesitated, wondering whether to tell Kyle about Trickshot or not. I didn’t see any harm in telling him who saved me, because it wasn’t like admitting that I was Trickshot.

  So I said, “It was someone dressed up as Trickshot.”

  “You mean the rumors about Trickshot saving you are true after all?” Kyle repeated. “Wasn’t that your grandfather’s superhero identity?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Don’t ask me how this guy got my grandfather’s costume, because I don’t know.”

  “Maybe it actually is your grandfather,” said Kyle, leaning forward excitedly. “Maybe he’s finally came back from wherever he disappeared to in order to save you from the Injectors. Did he look like your grandfather?”

  “Not really,” I said. “He’s … different. Someone else. My actual grandfather is probably too old to fight anymore anyway. It has to be someone else.”

  “If you say so,” said Kyle, leaning back again. “Still, this is wild. Someone is running around Rumsfeld wearing your grandpa’s old costume, maybe even with his same powers, and he’s taking down the Injectors left and right.”

  “He’s just taken down seven of them so far,” I said. “Not exactly the same as taking down all or even most of them.”

  “I know, but it’s still great news to hear,” said Kyle. “If there are two superheroes in Rumsfeld, then that makes it twice as likely that the Injectors will be taken down. The only question I have is whether or not this new Trickshot has a superhero license.”

  “Probably not,” I said. “Bug Bite is supposed to be the only licensed superhero working in Rumsfeld. If there was another, we’d definitely know.”

  “So he might be an illegal superhero, too?” said Kyle. “Man, the plot just thickens, doesn’t it?”

  “It does,” I said. “And maybe not in a good way, either.”

  “We’ll see how it develops,” said Kyle. “Personally, though, I have a good feeling about this new Trickshot. If his first public act is saving a high school student from a bunch of Injectors, then he has to be good for the city, right?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I just wish that I didn’t have to worry about the Injectors coming after me. I mean, I don’t think they actually will, given how I’m not nearly as big a threat to their operations as Trickshot is, but still.”

  “True, but as long as you’re careful, you should be fine,” said Kyle. “Maybe you could ask the police to patrol the streets around your house for a while, at least until the Injectors are no longer a threat.”

  “I’ll have to mention that to Dad,” I said. I ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes and swallowed. “It’s a good idea, though given how dangerous the Injectors are, I’m not sure if it would be of much use.”

  “It’s just a suggestion,” said Kyle with a shrug. “If you really wanted to find out if the Injectors are after you or not, you could always ask.”

  “Ask?” I said. “Ask who?”

  Kyle suddenly looked down at his French fries, like he had just said something he wasn’t supposed to. “Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking aloud, that’s all.”

  “No, Kyle, you obviously meant what you said,” I said. “Who should I ask if I want to find out if the Injectors are after me or not?”

  Kyle looked around quickly, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us, and then leaned forward and whispered, “I heard on the grapevine that some of the students here are going to meet with some Injectors to buy some Power.”

  “Which students?” I said. “And when is this meeting?”

  “I’m not entirely sure who, but I think it might be Ryan and one of his friends,” said Kyle, glancing over his shoulder at the table where Ryan and his friends sat eating and laughing with each other. “And it’s supposed to be tonight at midnight in the old car factory that shut down a few years ago. Supposedly, Ryan and one of his friends are going to buy some Power from the Injectors.”

  “Why would they do that?” I said incredulously. “They were threatened by the Injectors on the bus just like us. Why would anyone be stupid enough to do that?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Kyle. “Like I said, I just heard about it on the grapevine. It might not even be true. It’s connected with the rumors that Ryan is the one who had the thing that the Injectors were looking for when they stopped the bus.”

  I looked over at Ryan’s table. Ryan’s back was to me, so I couldn’t see his face, but his physical gestures and tone told me that he was his usual boisterous self. I guessed that he didn’t let something like having his life threatened by drug dealers to be that big of a deal, or maybe he was just hiding it. Regardless, I found it hard to believe that even someone as dumb as Ryan would be stupid enough to buy Power from the Injectors, especially after Mattis got arrested for it.

  “And you think I should go to that meeting and ask the Injectors politely if they’re trying to kill me?” I said, looking at Kyle in disbelief.

  Kyle held up his hands defensively. “Like I said, I was just thinking out loud. It would be extremely stupid of you to go to any meeting with the Injectors, whether alone or with someone else. The smart thing to do is to avoid going into any dark alleys and try to stay close to home as much as possible.”

  I nodded and returned to eating my mashed potatoes, thinking about what Kyle said.

  Yes, it would be smarter—or at least safer—to stay home tonight and not go and do anything dangerous. The Injectors were cold-hearted killers in addition to being ruthless drug dealers, and if they saw me, they’d kill me probably without even thinking about it.

  But the brave thing would be to don my Trickshot costume and head out to the old car factory tonight without telling anyone. Regardless of who was going to this meeting, this would be my chance to get closer to locating Michael Jones. If I was lucky, Jones himself would be there tonight.

  And if I wasn’t … well, beating up Injectors was quickly becoming my favorite pastime anyway.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “We shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t be here. We should NOT be here.”

  “I know.”

  “We shouldn’t be here.”

  “Great insight. Really original.”

  “We shouldn’t be here.”

  “You sound like a broken record.”

  “And you sound like you are going to get yourself killed.”

  I stopped and frowned. “I’m the one in charge here, TW. Not you.”

  TW suddenly flashed into existence before me, his arms folded in front of his chest and his lips turned down in a disapproving frown. “It doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t be here. You are not ready for another battle with the Injectors, especially not so soon after your first one.”

  I walked straight through TW, who, being a hologram, was unable to stop me. “Yeah, whatever. Could you please whisper? I don’t want them to overhear us.”

  TW suddenly flashed in front of me again, forcing me to stop once more. “It doesn’t matter if I’m whispering or not. What matters is that we shouldn’t be here. This is pure foolhardiness that will only end in your failure at best and your death at worst.”

  “You’re a bundle of sunshine and rainbows, you know that?” I said, putting my hands on my waist. I cocked my head to the side. “By the way, I don’t remember asking for your opinion on whether this was a good idea or not.”

  “You should have,” said
TW, “because I’m smarter and wiser than you, and not just because I look like Gregory, either. And, knowing your abilities, I can confidently say that we shouldn’t be here.”

  I scowled and looked down at the Trickshot Watch. “There’s got to be a button on this thing that turns you off.”

  “That is impossible,” said TW, shaking his head. “As the Trickshot Watch’s built-in AI, you cannot turn me ‘off.’ I have full ability to appear and disappear as I see fit. Furthermore—”

  I pressed a button on the side of the Watch and TW suddenly went silent. His lips kept moving, but no words came out of them. He looked funny at first, at least until he realized that no sound was coming out of his mouth and he shut his mouth, looking rather embarrassed.

  “Well, that’s not quite what I meant by turning you off, but I guess muting will do,” I said. “Anyway, I’m going to be late for a meeting, so if you will excuse me, I have to go.”

  Once again, I walked through TW. This time, he disappeared and did not reappear. Perhaps he had finally accepted that I wasn’t going home no matter what. That was good, because the last thing I needed right now was TW distracting me with his insistence that this mission couldn’t possibly end well for either of us.

  Gotta admit, though, it was rather lonely walking through the large, abandoned car factory on the south side of town. The absence of light meant the interior of the factory was almost pitch black, but luckily my Trickshot goggles provided me with night vision that helped me find my way around here without tripping over car parts and hurting myself.

  This car factory had once been owned and operated by Efficiency, a popular car company whose best known vehicle, the Sublime, was owned by lots of different people, including my Dad. In fact, Dad had helped build this very factory when it opened twenty-five years ago, though given how rundown this place looked, you would be forgiven for thinking it had been built fifty years ago instead.

  The factory closed down about three years ago due to safety concerns and for some reason had never been reopened. Rumors suggested that Efficiency execs didn’t want to pay for the place to be overhauled to fit modern safety standards, but either way, the place had remained abandoned since then. It was surrounded by a big, tall fence with a sign with the words ‘NO TRESPASSERS’ on the main gate, but my flight powers—which I had some basic control over—allowed me to bypass the fence fairly easily and land on the roof of the factory. From there, I had entered the factory itself, making my way down into the factory in search of the Injectors and their ‘customers.’

  So far, I had not run into anyone other than myself down here, but that meant nothing. The factory was a big place, after all, and I hadn’t even explored half of it yet. I had plenty of time to look for the Injectors and their clients, whoever they were. And with the powers of the Trickshot costume at my command, it would not be hard for me to take them down, especially if I ambushed them.

  A part of me wondered if this was a wise move, given how dangerous this mission was, but I pushed all doubts out of my mind in order to focus on the present. I had already made a vow to go to war against the Injectors. If I was going to doubt myself now, I might as well go back. Besides, if this was as simple a transaction as Kyle suggested, then there were probably only going to be one or two Injectors, maybe three at most. Given how I had already beaten twice that many, I was confident that I would be able to handle however many Injectors might be present tonight.

  That was when I heard voices somewhere up ahead. I couldn’t make out their words, but it sounded like a couple of men talking to each other in low tones. It was probably the Injectors, which meant I was close. I advanced more slowly now, taking care not to make any unnecessary noise so as to not alert the Injectors to my presence.

  As I walked along the catwalk, the voices became clearer and more distinct. One of them was an older guy, probably in his thirties or forties, and quite hoarse, kind of like a smoker’s voice, while the other was higher-pitched and sounded more like a high school student, though I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “… Are you sure we’re alone?” said the younger guy, who sounded incredibly nervous.

  “Of course,” said the older guy, who I assumed was the Injector selling this younger guy drugs. “Unless you were stupid enough to let yourself be followed, that is.”

  “No, I wasn’t followed,” said the younger guy, his voice still nervous. “I made sure of it. My mom was asleep and my dad is working the midnight shift at his office, so no one in my house saw me leave. No one knows I’m here except for you.”

  “Good,” said the Injector. “I was almost about to ask my silent friend here to check you for any listening devices. You know, in case you’re really part of a police sting.”

  A nervous chuckle left the younger guy. “M-Me? Work for the police? Nah. I don’t like those guys anymore than you do. A bunch of bullies, that’s what they are, especially toward minorities.”

  I suddenly realized that I was now close enough to hear their voices coming from directly below me. Crouching low, I peered over the side of the catwalk to see who stood below.

  Three figures stood on the ground below me, near a pile of old tires that were covered in dust. Two of them were obviously Injectors. One of the Injectors was a tall, skinny guy with a long, haggard-looking face, while the other was shorter and stouter, built like a brick wall. They both wore the signature red bandannas of the Injectors, though even if they hadn’t, there was no way I would have mistaken them for belonging to any other gang or cartel.

  Standing opposite them was a very nervous-looking high school student carrying a suitcase in his right hand, probably a senior, though I didn’t recognize him. I was a bit disappointed to see that the senior obviously wasn’t Ryan Bond, because Ryan was a lot bigger and muscular than this guy. This guy must have been from one of the other high schools in the area, though I couldn’t guess which one. He looked kind of dorky, though I couldn’t fault him for that given how I wasn’t exactly the epitome of cool, either.

  “Good on ya, kid,” said the tall Injector, the one whose voice sounded perpetually hoarse. “Never trust a cop. If you take away that lesson from all of this, then you will live a pretty good life.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said the senior, who was literally shaking with fear. “Can we just get this over with? I brought the money. I want Power. So why don’t we make our exchange and get out of here? I don’t want to be out too long in case Mom wakes up and finds out I’m missing.”

  The tall Injector smirked, which made him look like a ghoul. “You’re more afraid of mommy than the cops? Then again, given how rich you obviously are, I guess the cops probably are a lot less scarier to you than mommy, huh?”

  “If you insist on insulting me like this, then I’m j-just going to turn around and leave,” said the senior, though his quaking voice made his threat sound pretty pathetic. “I’ll just get Power from somewhere else.”

  The short and stout Injector suddenly laughed, prompting the senior to say, in a flustered voice, “What is he laughing about?”

  “Probably the fact that you said you would get Power from somewhere else,” said the tall Injector, who was still smirking. “Kid, the Injectors own the Power trade. We’re what you call a monopoly, though the boss prefers to call us the top dog in the biz. Either way, you have no other way of getting Power and you know it, not unless you plan to steal some Superpower from the feds, anyway.”

  The senior’s face was red with embarrassment now. I would have felt sorry for the guy, but he did seem kind of stuck up and besides he was trying to buy a very dangerous and illegal drug that could kill him. He may have come from a well-to-do family, but he clearly didn’t inherit any common sense.

  “Now that we all understand where we stand, let’s get down to business,” said the tall Injector. He nodded at the short Injector. “Paul, show him Power.”

  The short Injector, apparently named Paul, nodded and pulled a needle out of his jacket, which was covered i
n a plastic bag. Inside the shaft of the needle was a sickly-looking purple liquid that I easily recognized as Power, the drug which had killed my brother and ruined countless lives all over the country. My anger burned at the mere sight of that crap, but I didn’t move just yet.

  “That’s it?” said the senior in an indignant voice. “That doesn’t look like a whole lot.”

  “It’s more than enough to make you the next Alpha Sentinel,” said the tall Injector. “Or make you explode, depending on how your body reacts to it. Now show us the cash. We’re not going to give you even one drop of Power until you can show us you’ve got the money.”

  The senior nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, of course. Here.”

  The senior dropped his suitcase on the floor before him and, popping open the lid, turned it around for the Injectors to see. From my position, I saw that the suitcase was filled to the brim with 100 dollar bills, neatly pressed and ordered to fit the suitcase without causing it to bulge.

  “Ten thousand dollars in cash,” said the senior, “straight from my dad’s bank account, though of course he won’t notice because of how rich we are.”

  The tall Injector whistled. “Impressive. When you first contacted us, I was skeptical you would be able to scrounge up enough money to pay our price, even knowing who your daddy is. Guess you have more guts than I thought.”

  “I just want to be strong,” said the senior. “And I’m willing to do anything to get it.”

  “That’s the ticket,” said the tall Injector. “All right. First, you give us the money. Then Paul will give you your Power and we can go our separate ways.”

  I wasn’t a cop, nor was I an officially licensed superhero, but there was no way I was going to let this transaction go through. If that guy took the injection, he would probably die, while the Injectors would get away with ten thousand dollars in cash. Once I defeated them, I would call the police and let them know about this transaction so they could come and arrest the Injectors themselves.

 

‹ Prev