by Lucas Flint
In minutes, we flew over Iconia and out toward the sea. I could tell that the helicopter was being pushed to its limits, because the rotors were spinning so fast I could hear them creaking. I half-worried that the blades might just fly off the helicopter entirely, but luckily they held, but even if they hadn’t, the helicopter’s rockets likely would have been more than enough to keep it afloat.
As for Iconia, it was already on fire. Smoke rose from the compound around the Tower, but we were so far away that I couldn’t see any detail. But I could imagine the Icon agents rushing about frantically, trying to understand what was going on and getting mauled to death by Blind Apes and whatever other scientific monstrosities that Icon had created. It was kind of a horrifying mental image, to be honest.
“Mack!” I shouted above the roar of the helicopter blades above. “How much longer until the Gift goes off?”
Mack glanced down at his wristwatch and said, “Should be any minute now. Not much longer—”
Mack was interrupted by the largest boom I had ever heard in my life. A massive, fiery explosion rippled out from the center of the island, causing the entire Tower to collapse on itself. Fire spread all across the island, consuming everything in its path. Even from a distance, I felt the shockwave from the blast, forcing me to look away to avoid getting blinded by the bright light caused by the explosion. The explosion was also incredibly loud, though I imagined it had to be far worse up close. Even so, it left my ears ringing long after the actual explosion itself had faded away.
When the explosion ended, I looked back out the helicopter toward Iconia.
There was nothing left, save for a large, smoking crater where the island itself had once been.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
One month later …
It had been over a year since I last visited the Rumsfeld City Cemetery, but it looked not much different from the day of Thomas’ funeral. Rows and rows of headstones of various shapes and sizes stood like soldiers on either side of the twisting, winding path that took you through the entire cemetery. A few trees were planted here and there, offering some shade from the hot Texas sun. Some of the headstones dated from the founding of Rumsfeld, while others looked like they had been set just yesterday.
The last time I had been here was over a year ago, during Thomas’ funeral. On that day, it had been dark and raining, forcing all of the attendees to bring raincoats and umbrellas. Today, however, the sky was clear, the sun was shining, and a warm breeze was blowing through the graveyard. There were also fewer people in the graveyard today, probably because it was hot and the middle of a work day.
“How much longer until we reach Thomas’ grave, Jack?” said Grandfather, who was walking beside me.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked at Grandfather and said, “What?”
“Thomas’ grave,” Grandfather repeated. “How much farther is it?”
“Oh, not far now,” I said. “Just a few more headstones down and we should see it.”
Grandfather nodded. “I hope you’re right. These old bones of mine are not what they used to be, especially after so many years as Icon’s prisoner. The heat doesn’t agree with me much, either.”
Grandfather popped open his water bottle and took a swig of the ice cold water within. Sighing in relief, Grandfather closed the water bottle and put it back into his bag. Today Grandfather wore a light cotton button down shirt and khaki shorts, which he insisted on wearing because of the heat. I didn’t argue with it, but it did make Grandfather look kind of weird to me, because I was so used to thinking of him wearing a sweater vest and slacks that his current outfit looked off to me.
Then again, I wasn’t dressed much better. Just a green t-shirt and jeans. I probably shouldn’t worry about style, anyway, because Grandfather and I weren’t going to some kind of fashion show. We were going to pay our respects to Thomas.
When Grandfather and I returned to Rumsfeld about a month ago now, I had told Grandfather all about Thomas’ death. Grandfather had insisted on visiting Thomas’ grave, because Thomas had died while he was being held captive by Icon, so he had been unable to go to the funeral. The only reason we didn’t go right away was because Grandfather had been so worn out from his time in Icon that he needed a long time in which to recover. He didn’t need too much medical attention, given how Icon had apparently not harmed or mistreated him during his stay on their island, but he needed rest.
Not anymore, though. While Grandfather was still a slow, plodding old man, he seemed to have much more energy and vigor than he did even on Iconia. He seemed impatient whenever any of us took too much time to do something and he always insisted on doing things for himself. My guess was that Grandfather was reveling in his new freedom and he wasn’t patient with anything that diminished it even slightly. Not that I could blame him. I’d probably be the same way if I had been held captive by some secret spy organization for ten years with no contact with the outside world.
Today, it was just me and Grandfather going to Thomas’ grave. Dad was at work and Mom had dropped us off here while she ran errands around town. I was sure they would have liked to come with us, but they insisted I could show Grandfather’s Thomas’ grave on my own and that we didn’t need them around. That was true, but I still would have liked it if all of us could have gone as a family to Thomas’ grave.
But I suppose we had spent plenty of time together over the last month. Grandfather had moved in with us, because we had sold off his old house when he disappeared ten years ago and he had nowhere else to stay. He was staying in Thomas’ old room, which was normally the guest room. And he was going to stay there for the foreseeable future, because he did not have a house to go back to, though I offered him a spot in Marge’s old house if he needed some place to go.
“Ah,” I said, stopping. “There it is.”
I pointed at one of the headstones near the path. It read thus:
THOMAS HOWARD MCDONALD
1995-2017
Grandfather also stopped and looked at the headstone with a solemn expression on his face. He walked off the path and stopped in front of the grave, folding his arms behind his back as he did so. I followed and stood beside him, watching Grandfather carefully to see how he would react. Grandfather and Thomas had been very close prior to Thomas’ death and I wasn’t entirely sure how Grandfather would react now that he was looking at Thomas’ grave himself.
“He died from a Power overdose, right?” said Grandfather without looking at me.
I nodded. “Yeah. He was desperate and thought it might help him become a superhero, but … it killed him.”
Grandfather nodded in response. “Not surprising. Power was a dangerous drug. He wasn’t the only person who it killed. Many people around the world have died from using it. All because of Chaser and his insane quest to become a god.”
I almost started when Grandfather mentioned Chaser’s name. He had not spoken about Chaser at all since the day we left Iconia. Frankly, given how Grandfather and Chaser had been friends and how badly Grandfather had taken Chaser’s betrayal, I thought Grandfather would never mentioned Chaser’s name ever again. Guess I was wrong.
Putting my thumbs in my pockets, I said, “Yeah, but it’s over, right? Iconia was destroyed and so were the factories and labs producing Power. No one else is going to die from it.”
“There is still a lot of it out there, though,” said Grandfather. “They shipped tons of that stuff all over the world. And I fear that someone will get the formula somehow and start producing their own. Icon proved that there is a demand for that awful drug, and where there is a demand, there is usually a supplier.”
I gulped. “Meaning this might not be the end of Power?”
“Likely not,” said Grandfather. “On the other hand, it will probably be a long time before someone is able to mass produce that stuff again, so with luck, it will be a very long time before it becomes a problem again, especially if those Pinnacle fellows are able to destroy what’s already
out there.”
I nodded. About a week after the destruction of Iconia, Uncle Josh had called me up to let me know that Iconia was definitely destroyed and that Pinnacle was currently working on rounding up the few Icon agents who had been off the island during the explosion. He had also told me that Pinnacle was trying to track down every shipment of Power out there so they could destroy it before it fell into the wrong hands. I had offered to help, but Josh told me to stay where I was and that Pinnacle was more than capable of handling this mission on their own.
“But if there’s one thing I don’t like about Pinnacle, it’s that they took the Atlas Armor,” said Grandfather suddenly. He sighed. “That suit made me feel young again.”
I had almost forgotten about that. When we returned to Rumsfeld, Uncle Josh had insisted on taking the Atlas Armor with him. He said it would be safer in Pinnacle’s hands and that we shouldn’t worry about it. Grandfather had tried to convince Uncle Josh to let him keep the Armor, but Uncle Josh wouldn’t listen and now the Atlas Armor was in Pinnacle HQ, wherever that was.
“Yeah, it was really cool,” I said. “But I don’t think it would have been very helpful for you. Not like you’re going to become a superhero again or anything.”
“True,” said Grandfather. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m technically retired now anyway. Superheroing is for youngsters like you, not old men like me. That armor would have just gotten me into a lot of trouble and trust me, I’ve had more than enough trouble to last me the rest of my short days.”
I chuckled at that. “Yeah. You should probably just take it easy for now. You’ve been through a lot.”
“I have, I have,” Grandfather agreed, “though not as much as you, if half of the stories I’ve heard are true. Sounds like you’ve been earning quite the name for yourself as the new Trickshot while I was away.”
I smiled sheepishly. “What can I say? I try to stay out of trouble, but somehow it always finds me.”
“Like that Christina girl,” said Grandfather, “who, I think, fancies you quite a bit.”
I blushed slightly. “Christina? She hates me.”
“Is that why she betrayed Chaser at the last minute?” said Grandfather. He punched me in the shoulder. “Come on, Jack. Even I could see it, and my eyes aren’t anywhere near as good as they used to be.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” I said hastily. “She’s gone and I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”
“Didn’t she join Pinnacle?” said Grandfather. “If so, perhaps Joshua will bring her with him when he comes to visit us again next time. I’m sure she would be happy to see you again.”
The part about Christina joining Pinnacle was true. When we got back to Texas, Uncle Josh had offered Christina a job in Pinnacle due to her skills fitting the organization perfectly. To my surprise, she accepted the job offer, mostly because she didn’t have anywhere else to go or anything else to do now that Icon was no more. I didn’t know exactly what she was doing nowadays, but given how similar Pinnacle was to Icon, my guess was that her life hadn’t changed that much.
“She’d probably just snark at me if she saw me again,” I said. “Besides, I don’t think she cares much for Rumsfeld. I doubt she’d come with Uncle Josh even if he invited her.”
“Oh, you never know,” said Grandfather. “Women aren’t always as direct about their feelings as men are. Sometimes, you have to read between the lines to understand how a woman really feels about you. Ask me how I know.”
I couldn’t help but smile when Grandfather said that. I just shook my head and said, “Whatever, old man. I’m not really interested in relationships right now anyway. Too much work.”
“Agreed,” said Grandfather. “After your grandmother passed, I had no intention of remarrying, and still don’t. I thought about going back into superheroing, but without the Atlas Armor, I’m just an old man. Perhaps I’ll just go fishing. I haven’t done that in a while.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said. “Maybe we can go fishing together sometime.”
“I’d love to,” said Grandfather. “But are you sure you’ll have any time to hang out with an old man like me? Between schoolwork and your superhero work, I don’t think you’ll have much time for anything else.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry, Grandfather. I’ll always make time for you. School really isn’t that hard or time-consuming. I’ll just copy whatever Kyle does. He’s usually right.”
Grandfather laughed. “That’s not a good habit to get into, Jack. But I’m glad to hear you’ll still make time for me. But your superhero work …”
I shrugged and looked at Thomas’ grave. “I’m not sure I’ll still do it. Now that Icon is gone, the Injectors are destroyed, and you’re back here, I don’t think I have anything else to do. Bug Bite did a good job protecting Rumsfeld before I came around and, now that he’s out of the hospital, he’ll keep doing a good job. He caught that Aeolus freak all on his own, after all, so he obviously doesn’t need my help.”
Grandfather tilted his head to the side. “Maybe that’s true, but I think I know the real reason you want to quit: TW.”
I started and looked at Grandfather. “What about him?”
“I think his death affected you,” said Grandfather. “I understand. He was just an AI, but he was very human, too, more human than even some humans I know. It was tough for me to send him away to you in the first place.”
I shifted uncomfortably where I stood. I had told Grandfather about TW’s passing shortly after we returned to Rumsfeld. Grandfather hadn’t cried or anything, but it had been obvious to me that TW’s death had affected him almost as badly as it affected me. It probably hit him even harder, because Grandfather had known TW even longer than me and was his original creator and programmer.
“Well, that’s why I gave you the Trickshot Watch back,” I said. “Now that Trickshot isn’t needed anymore, I figured you should have it back as a reminder of TW.”
“I know,” said Grandfather. “And I appreciate it. But I think you should have it back.”
Grandfather stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the Trickshot Watch. He held out the Watch toward me, which I took with a surprised look on my face.
“Why are you giving this back to me?” I said, turning the Watch over in my hands.
“Because you earned it,” said Grandfather. “When you told me about how you used the suit to defeat Chaser, that was when I knew that the Trickshot Watch was yours. It told me that the Watch considered you its master and that it wouldn’t listen to me or anyone else. It’s only right, then, that you should be the one to own it.”
I slipped the Trickshot Watch back on my wrist and looked at Grandfather. “Thanks, but I’m still not sure I’m going to use it. I guess it could just be a reminder of TW’s sacrifice, but—”
“My sacrifice?” said a familiar voice in my head all of a sudden. “Odd. That would imply that I’m dead.”
A flash of blue light erupted next to me, and when it faded, I found myself standing next to a hologram that looked like Grandfather but which was obviously not him.
My jaw fell open. “TW? Is that you? You’re alive?”
TW smiled. “Yes, it is. And I am better than ever, thanks in no small part to Gregory.”
I looked at Grandfather in disbelief. “You resurrected him? For real?”
Grandfather’s smile was even bigger than TW’s. “Oh, it wasn’t that hard. I was the one who originally created TW in the first place, after all. When you gave me back the Watch and told me about TW’s death, I spent all of my free time working on repairing him. What did you think all of those noises you heard in my room over the last month were from?”
Tears welled up in my eyes and started pouring down my cheeks. I brushed the tears out of my eyes and said to Grandfather, in a shaky voice, “T-Thank you, Grandfather. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
Grandfather put a hand on my shoulder. “Just be the best man and superhero you can be. Uphold
the Trickshot legacy and keep it alive. Bug Bite might be enough for Rumsfeld, but it doesn’t hurt to have another superhero around just in case.”
I sniffled, but before I could say anything in response, TW put a hand on his forehead and said, “I’m intercepting a police radio transmission. Apparently there’s a bank robbery going down in downtown Rumsfeld being pulled off by some kind of supervillain. Bug Bite is unavailable due to another supervillain attack on the other side of the city and the police are calling for help.”
I looked at Grandfather. “Grandfather, do you mind if I—”
“Do it,” said Grandfather. “I’ll tell your mother where you are, don’t worry.”
I nodded and, pressing the ‘TRANSFORMATION’ button on the Trickshot Watch, turned and flew into the air, listening to TW’s directions the entire time as I soared like an eagle.
THE END OF THE LEGACY SUPERHERO.
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Other books by Lucas Flint
The Superhero’s Son:
The Superhero’s Test