by Lucas Flint
“It’s not meant to stop her for good,” I said. “It will just make life more inconvenient for her. She might even leave me alone, at least until I beat the Injectors and am able to devote my time to dealing with her.”
TW folded his arms in front of his chest. “Perhaps, but it is still distressing that Icon is here. I knew they would come to Rumsfeld eventually in search of the Watch, but I didn’t think they’d send an agent so soon. They must want the Watch even more than I believed.”
I glanced at the Watch. “Christina said they wanted the Watch because of its destructive power, because they didn’t want it to fall into the ‘wrong’ hands. What did she mean by that?”
“Nothing good,” TW said dismissively. “Icon doesn’t actually care about good and evil. They just want to keep powerful objects like the Trickshot Watch to themselves for their own purposes. It would be foolish to take anything they say too seriously.”
I nodded. “You’re probably right. Still, this is pretty bad if you think about it. Not only are the Injectors after me, but so is Icon. And all because of this tiny little watch I got in the mail for my sixteenth birthday.”
“You don’t seem particularly upset about it,” said TW.
“Why should I be?” I said. I puffed out my chest. “I’m Trickshot. I can take care of myself.”
“You certainly took very good care of yourself against Lethal Injection,” TW observed, “which is why, of course, the costume had to remove literal poison from your body.”
“So what?” I said, folding my arms in front of my chest. “I didn’t know what I was up against. Next time I fight that guy, I’ll know all of his tricks and he won’t be able to pull a fast one on me.”
“If you fight him again,” said TW. “Perhaps the Injectors won’t send him after you again.”
“Why not?” I said. “He’s the only Injector who has even been a challenge to me so far. He’s probably already looking for me again even as we speak.”
“I still wouldn’t suggest actively seeking him out,” said TW. “You should resume your training before you do something reckless like this again. Otherwise, your next encounter with Lethal or any of the other Injectors won’t end any better than this one.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I said, waving off TW’s concerns. “I’m more worried about what my parents may have done when they realized I’m missing than whether I’ll be able to beat those Injector idiots.”
TW rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “You are very frustrating to work with. I am trying to help you learn how to control your powers, but you are so reckless that I often wonder what the point is.”
“Sorry for not being the perfect little student,” I said. “I just want to defeat the Injectors, and maybe Icon, too, but definitely the Injectors. I’ve already got a pretty good hang of my powers. I doubt I need much more training.”
“Oh, you are going to need far more training than you have already received if you are going to be able to defend Rumsfeld from the threat Gregory warned of,” said TW. “I don’t care how much talent you may have for these powers. If you are not going to learn how to use them, then you might as well not use them at all.”
I sighed. “Listen, TW, I know that you’re just trying to follow the last order Grandfather gave to you, but you don’t really seem to understand why I am the way I am. I’m not against training. I just prefer on the job training against actual bad guys versus what we were doing in the warehouse, you know?”
“You need both,” said TW. “But fine. If you want to go and put your life in danger because you don’t think you need proper training, then so be it.”
With that, TW flashed away, leaving me alone on the rooftop wondering what I said to make TW so upset with me. I tried to talk with him in my mind, but he wouldn’t answer any of my questions. I might as well have been talking to myself for all the good it did.
But whatever. I had no idea that an AI could get so emotional, but it didn’t really matter. Maybe TW just needed a time out until he calmed down and could act a bit more rationally. Besides, I was getting tired of talking to him, especially with the knowledge that if I didn’t get back home soon, my parents would probably tear apart the whole city looking for me and maybe even take down the Injectors themselves if they thought they had me.
So I flew into the air and headed north, just as TW said, though I could not help but feel a little guilty about the way I spoke to him. I just hoped that TW would not stay angry at me forever, because as much as he annoyed me, I really was going to need his help to master my powers in the coming weeks and months.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luckily, I ran into no other problems on my way back home. That was partly because I didn’t fly all the way back. Yes, it was fairly early in the morning, but with the sun rising and people on the streets of Rumsfeld going to work and school, I would risk being spotted flying to my parents’ house by hundreds of people. And if anyone saw me land in my parents’ back yard, my secret identity would be toast.
Instead, I landed in a discreet back alley, took off my costume, and took a combination of walking and public transportation to get back to my neighborhood. Though I got a few odd looks from random people on the streets or on the bus due to the fact that school was in session, no one really paid that much attention to me. To the average person, I was just an ordinary teenage boy traveling on the bus back home. Not a single person I saw even suspected I was Trickshot, which was exactly how I wanted it.
As I suspected, my parents were worried sick when I stepped through the front door and announced that I was back. Mom nearly hugged the life out of me, while Dad demanded to know where I had been overnight and if I had been in danger. They told me that they had called the police to report I was missing as soon as they noticed that my bed was empty and that they had spent all morning calling up friends around the city to find out if anyone had seen me or knew where I was.
I told my parents exactly what I told TW I was going to tell them: namely, that ‘Christina Madison’ had kidnapped me in the middle of the night and took me to an abandoned apartment complex on the south side of Rumsfeld, where she intended to hold me hostage for money. Of course, I managed to escape through one of the windows when Christina wasn’t looking and managed to make my way back home not long after that.
Thankfully, my parents believed every word I said. Dad even promised to call up the police and tell them to call off the search now that I was back home safe and sound. Dad also said he would tell the police about Christina and where she had kidnapped me. I didn’t object to that, mostly because I hoped that Christina would still be out cold by the time the police arrived and would therefore be unable to put up a fight when they tried to arrest her.
So I went up to my room to rest and made my parents promise to leave me alone so I could get some shut eye, because I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Dad, however, insisted on standing guard outside my room just in case Christina tried to get me again. It seemed unnecessary to me, because I didn’t think that Christina would try to kidnap me again so soon after her first attempt, but I didn’t object to it. If it made Dad feel better, then I was not against it.
In truth, however, I didn’t really need to sleep. I only went back to my room because I needed to do some research. More specifically, I needed to do some research on Icon, because I was curious to learn more about these people. I guess I could have asked TW, but he still wasn’t in the mood to talk and I wasn’t sure when he would get over his hurt feelings, so I did an Internet search to find out about them.
Sadly, my Internet search didn’t show up a whole lot of results. There was the Wikipedia article about iconography, a website for a local business called Golden Icons which specialized in making golden statues for sporting events, and various other things with the word ‘icon’ somewhere in their title, but I didn’t find anything on the actual organization itself. Guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. If Icon was as secretive as TW said it was, then it only
made sense that I wouldn’t be able to find out about it from a public Internet search.
So I slept well that night and the following morning found myself sitting in the passenger’s seat of the car, with Dad at the wheel, taking me to school himself this morning. I insisted that I didn’t need him to drive me and that I would be okay just taking the bus, but Dad still insisted that I would be safer driving with him. I guess Dad was still worried about the bus attack, as well as Christina, even though the Injectors probably weren’t going to attack the bus again and Christina was either in police custody or on the run, depending on what the police found when they raided her apartment.
But Dad was impossible to argue with once he made up his mind, so I just sat quietly in the passenger’s seat of our four door sedan, staring out the window at the houses as we drove by them quickly. Dad drove much more carefully than usual, his eyes darting this way and that as he tried to keep an eye on everywhere at once, probably keeping an eye out for any Injectors who might be nearby.
“Dad, relax,” I said as we turned down a side street that would take us to Rumsfeld High. “The Injectors aren’t going to come after me. They’re probably more interested in taking down Trickshot rather than me.”
“You can never be too safe, especially when dealing with the Injectors,” said Dad, wagging a finger at me. “And after that Christina woman kidnapped you, the last thing I want is for you to be in danger again because I wasn’t there to protect you.”
I sank back into my seat, but said nothing, because I knew Dad wouldn’t listen to anything I said. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if Dad was really worried about me because of Thomas. It must have been scary for him to think of losing two sons to the same gang. I wish I could have told him that he wouldn’t need to worry about me anymore soon, but I couldn’t do that just yet.
“What do you think about that guy wearing Grandfather’s old costume?” I said, looking at Dad again. “The new Trickshot?”
Dad scowled. “I’m not sure what to think of him. On one hand, he did save your life from the Injectors, but on the other hand, I don’t like the fact that he’s somehow gotten Papa’s old costume and is wearing it. He must know where Papa is, which is why I want the police to arrest him so they can interrogate him and find out where Papa is.”
“I’d like to know where Grandfather is, too,” I said. “But I don’t think Trickshot is a bad guy or has anything to do with Grandfather’s disappearance.”
“I didn’t say that.” Dad sighed. “I just don’t really know what to make of him. For ten years, Papa has been missing, along with his costume and watch, only for a guy I don’t know wearing his suit to appear out of nowhere and start taking names. Half the time I suspect it’s an Injector plot, but the other half … well, I don’t know what’s going.”
I nodded. “If it helps, the Injectors don’t seem to like him, which is a pretty good sign that he’s not on their side, at least.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean he’s on our side, either,” said Dad. He glanced at me briefly. “Jack, I want you to keep your distance from this guy, okay? Until we know if we can trust him or not, I want you to avoid seeing him too often.”
I smiled. “What, do you think Trickshot and I are best friends because he happened to save my life once?”
“Not exactly,” said Dad. “I just think that it’s best to avoid those kinds of people. The last thing I want is for you to get involved in the superhero lifestyle, especially at such a young age.”
“What makes you think I want to be a superhero in the first place?” I said curiously.
Dad shrugged. “Nothing. I’m just saying that young guys like you always have dreams of becoming superheroes and fighting crime and stuff like that. Trust me, as the son of an actual superhero, it’s not nearly as glamorous as the movies or comic books make it out to be.”
I had always known that Dad didn’t care much for superheroes, but I had never really known why until now. “Care to elaborate?”
Dad stopped at a stop light, allowing a large truck to pass in front of us. “Papa was never really there for me. He was always too busy being a superhero to really be a father to me or my brothers. I didn’t understand why growing up, but even now that I do understand better, I still wish he had carved out more time to be a father to us.”
“I’m not a father yet, though.”
Dad looked at me like I was an idiot. “You think I don’t know that? But someday, you will be a father, and I want you to be able to live a normal life without putting your life at risk fighting drug dealers and supervillains like Papa did. He could have died at any moment, leaving me, my brothers, and my mom with nothing.”
“But he was defending the city,” I said. “He was making it safer for everyone, wasn’t he?”
“True,” said Dad as the stop light turned green and we resumed heading toward the school, “but what’s the point in making your city safe for your family if you never actually do anything with them? I would rather he have been a construction worker like me or, hell, even an accountant than going out and fighting crime all the time.”
“Dad—”
“And that’s not even getting into what happened to Thomas,” Dad continued. “Kid wanted to be a super so badly that he … well, you know what he did. I’ve lost two family members to the super lifestyle and I don’t want to lose another.”
Dad spoke really passionately when he said that, which surprised me, because Dad usually wasn’t very passionate about, well, anything. He didn’t look at me because he was too busy keeping his eyes on the road, but I could tell that if he didn’t have to keep his eyes on the road, he would have been looking directly at me as he said every word.
“So promise me, Jack,” said Dad, glancing at me. “Promise me that you won’t become a superhero. Can you promise me that?”
I hesitated. Technically speaking, I had already been a superhero for almost a week now. Not a licensed hero, true, but a superhero nonetheless. There was no way I could make or keep that promise to Dad, especially knowing that Grandfather wanted me to follow in his footsteps.
But I couldn’t just sneak out of this conversation or change the subject. Dad would notice and he would probably drag the conversation back to the promise if I tried that.
Trying my best not to look guilty, I looked Dad in the eyes and said, “Sure, Dad. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Dad visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Jack. I figured you would say that, but I appreciate hearing you say it just the same.”
Dad patted me on the shoulder. I smiled as best as I could, but deep down I couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of myself for lying to his face like that.
But I would make up for it when I defeated the Injectors. Then I would tell Mom and Dad and they would understand. At least, I hoped they would, anyway.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
After school was out for the day, I went home, dropped off my homework and school supplies, and went directly to the warehouse where TW and I would do our training for the day. I managed to do this because Dad was still at work when I got off school and wouldn’t be home for a few more hours at least, while Mom had left a note on the kitchen table informing me that she was also out running errands around town, which would also take her a while based on the number of errands she needed to complete. Thus, I didn’t think either of my parents would notice if I was missing for a couple of hours. I would just have to make sure to be back home before either of them returned, otherwise I would risk panicking them again and causing them to start another citywide search for me.
When I arrived at Warehouse 19 and went inside, I looked down at the Trickshot Watch and said, “Hey, TW, I’m ready for more training. Are you there?”
At first, I thought that TW was just going to keep ignoring me, but then he reappeared next to me suddenly. I immediately noticed that the fuzziness around the edges of his form were more pronounced than before, though he didn’t seem to notice them himself. He just floa
ted there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking at me with a scowl on his face.
“I thought you said you didn’t need to train,” said TW. “Did you change your mind?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure what to do next. Don’t know how to locate Michael Jones, so I decided to train today, rather than sit around and worry about figuring out my next move.”
“What about your homework from school?” said TW. “Are you going to do that?”
I waved off TW’s question. “Eh, it’s not that hard. I’ll just do it before I go to bed. Right now, I want to train with my powers. And why would you care, anyway? You were the one insisting on training me, but now you’re wondering why I’m not doing my homework?’
“I was just under the impression that you thought you knew everything there was to know about your powers,” said TW, “so you didn’t feel the need to train with them.”
“Well, I guess I don’t,” I said. “So can we just move onto our next lesson now? I’m getting bored.”
TW looked like he was going to say no at first, but then he slowly nodded and said, “All right. We’ll begin our n-next lesson.”
TW’s voice stuttered slightly when he said that, prompting me to say, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” said TW, looking at me curiously. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re kind of fuzzy around the edges and you just stuttered,” I said. “You told me before that you’re decaying.”
TW looked down at his body and grimaced. “Yes, I can see what you mean. But I would not worry about it. I still have a lot of time left before my AI decays to the point of no return. Until then, you and I should focus on training you to the best of your abilities and nothing else.”