by Lee Bacon
Cosgrove rose from her seat. “You’ve done a wonderful job, Nameless. People are going to love seeing you on the cover of Super Scoop.”
Gavin met Cosgrove at the door to the conference room, the blindfold hanging from one hand. She sighed but didn’t protest as Gavin tied it around her eyes. I have to admit, after the way the interview had just gone, I didn’t feel too bad when she accidentally bumped into the wall on her way out the door.
That was only the beginning. One by one, blindfolded reporters were led into the room and seated at the table in front of me, where they asked me the same questions again and again.
“How did it feel to save nFinity’s life?”
“What’s it like being the hottest young superhero on the planet?”
“Are you single?”
After a few hours of this, my brain felt like mashed potatoes. One answer blended into another, until it all began to seem like one big blur. For all I knew, I might’ve told the reporters what kind of underwear I had on underneath my uniform.
It was late by the time I finally returned to my bedroom, but Milton still wasn’t back. After peeling off my mask and uniform, I changed into a T-shirt and shorts before dropping onto my bed. I flipped through the channels on the window until spotting a news report that was broadcasting a familiar scene: Times Square. People running for their lives. Multiplier and his clones buzzing above them like buzzards.
In the middle of all this was a single figure in a shining black uniform with red flames.
The Nameless Hero.
In the uniform and the mask … jumping off tall buildings … riding on the back of a clone … I really did look different. Stronger. Older. Heroic.
The recorded footage came to an end, replaced by a live feed of Times Square at night. The sidewalk was jammed with squealing preteen girls. It looked like something between a riot and a slumber party that had gotten out of hand.
“We looooove the Nameless Hero!” one of them screamed. Light from the camera reflected off a mouthful of orthodontic work. “He’s sooooo cute!”
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Girls at school never screamed like this about me. Unless you counted the time when I accidentally tripped in the cafeteria and landed face-first in Jenny Lewis’s pickle sandwich.
The girls on TV were still having their group panic attack session when there was a rattle in the doorway. A moment later, Milton stepped into the room.
I fumbled with the remote. The squealing girls disappeared from the window, replaced by a view of my backyard at night.
Milton loves everything about becoming a superhero. Even the tights. But what if he loses his best friend in the process?
“Is that what you’ve been doing all day?” Milton gave me a skeptical look. “Watching girls scream about how great you are?”
“No,” I said. “I was just channel surfing.”
Milton looked like he didn’t believe me.
“Actually, I’ve been giving interviews all afternoon.” I told him about Tiffany Cosgrove and how dull it was being cooped up in a conference room, answering the same questions over and over again.
“Sounds really tough.” Milton rolled his eyes.
Ignoring the sarcastic comment, I asked, “So, uh … how’d it go in the training hall?”
“They should call it the torture hall,” Milton muttered.
For the first time, I noticed how exhausted and beaten-up he looked. His uniform was torn. A trickle of blood dripped from a cut on his knee. Whatever they’d done during training, it must’ve been rougher than in the past.
“Gavin said we would’ve been defeated today if the Nameless Hero hadn’t stepped in to save us. So now he’s increasing the difficulty level of our training by about a million. So thanks, Nameless Hero.”
Milton made it sound like it was my fault that training was so hard on everyone.
“Not that you would know anything about that,” he said. “Since you managed to skip out on training. Again.”
I gave Milton a sharp look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Milton tossed his mask at the wall. “It means you sat around in a comfy chair all afternoon while the rest of us were getting our butts kicked all up and down the training hall.”
I stood from the bed, suddenly defensive. “It’s not like I wanted to do all those interviews. Gavin didn’t give me any choice.”
“Just like you didn’t have any choice when it came to eating a private meal instead of going to the dining hall?” Milton’s voice grew louder. “Now that you’re a celebrity, you think you’re too good to eat with everyone else.”
“You wanted to be a part of this way more than I ever did. So don’t blame me now that—”
“Now that what? Now that you’re a star? Now that the rest of us get stuck training while you hang out with journalists?” Milton’s hands curled into fists. “Now that you can sit around watching all your adoring fans on TV?”
“Listen, Milton … I’m sorry.”
But he ignored me. Climbing into his bed, Milton turned his back to me. He must’ve been pretty wiped out, because he started snoring almost instantly.
Early the next morning, a pair of hands shook me roughly awake.
“Time to get up,” Trace said. “And make it quick. There isn’t much time.”
“What happened?” I croaked. Darkness hung over my bedroom. “Did Multiplier attack something else?”
“Worse. You’ve got publicity to do.” Trace snickered. “Now get dressed in your uniform. Gavin wants to hit the air in fifteen minutes.”
On his way out the door, Trace flipped on the light. The sudden brightness burned my eyes, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect on Milton. He went on snoring.
I considered waking him up to apologize about last night, but I’d slept over at his house enough over the years to know that Milton was the heaviest sleeper on the planet. Sasquatch could sit on his head and he wouldn’t flinch. So I left Milton snoozing and shut the bedroom door behind me.
21
I felt like I’d stepped into the life of a rock star.
After an hour in the air, the hover SUV descended into New York City. I gazed out the window at the crowd gathered below. There must’ve been hundreds of people. Kids, mostly. And they’d all come out to see me.
When I opened the door to the SUV, I was met by a chorus of screams. A swarm of paparazzi and preteen girls surged forward, trying to get a better look. Cameras flashed. Handmade signs waved above the crowd:
Dear Nameless Hero, u r hot!!!
Me + Nameless Hero = :-)
NY NH
This was just a sneak preview. The entire day was a whirlwind of publicity. Appearances on morning shows, interviews with radio DJs, a guest spot on a prime-time TV show. Gavin had every minute mapped out for me.
Everywhere I went, cameras flashed. Crowds screamed my name. Journalists trailed our SUV through the streets of New York. It got so bad that, by the end of the day, Gavin decided to check me into a hotel.
“We can’t risk the media trailing us back to headquarters,” he said as we pulled up in front of the Ritz-Carlton.
“This is the hotel you picked?” I looked out the window at the fancy entryway.
“You’re famous now,” Gavin said. “It’s time you start living that way. A celebrity like you can’t share a room.”
“I like sharing a room,” I said. “Can’t Milton stay here too? And Sophie and everybody else?”
“They need to stay at headquarters for training.”
“How come I’m not training anymore? All I do is give interviews and get my picture taken.”
Gavin sighed, like he’d had this conversation a million times before. “That’s a part of the job, Nameless—”
“Nobody else is here. You don’t have to call me that.”
“You may as well get used to it. People are going to be calling you the Nameless Hero for a long, long time.”
I shrugged. “For t
he summer, at least.”
“Yes, well …” Gavin cracked his knuckles. “We’ll see about that.”
I was still wondering what he meant by that last comment when the door to the SUV opened. The next thing I knew, I was out on the sidewalk. Hotel employees struggled to keep the mob of fans and photographers away from the hotel entry.
A little girl slipped through security and rushed toward me. She couldn’t have been more than eight, with a ponytail and big eyes that looked up at me like I was the most thrilling thing she’d ever seen.
“Nameless Hero!” she exclaimed over the sounds of screaming all around us. “I’m your biggest fan! Will you sign this for me?”
In one hand, the girl had a T-shirt with my face on it. In the other, she gripped a black marker. I still wasn’t used to this kind of thing, but the girl looked so excited—I didn’t want to disappoint her.
“I’ll be glad to.” I smiled, taking the marker from her. “What’s your name?”
Before she could answer, the girl staggered backward suddenly, pulled away from me by an unseen force. Trace—my invisible bodyguard.
“Wait,” I called, waving the girl’s marker. “I don’t mind—”
“Let’s go, Nameless.” Gavin guided me forcefully through the doors and into the hotel lobby. “Save the autographs for some other time. We’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”
When I got to my room, my jaw dropped. The place was enormous, with windows looking out on Central Park and the buildings surrounding it. The couches and chairs looked way too expensive for me to sit on. In a separate room, there was a king-sized bed with at least twenty cushions piled on top.
“This is all for me?”
I heard a cynical laugh beside Gavin that let me know Trace was in the entryway. “Beats staying a half mile beneath a tanning salon, huh, kid?”
“You know, you didn’t have to be so rough with that girl back there,” I said to the spot of air where Trace’s voice had come from. “I don’t mind signing a few autographs.”
“Sign one autograph and you’ll have to do it for everyone,” Trace said. “You’d be out there all night.”
“Better than you pushing around eight-year-olds.”
Gavin stepped forward. “I know this is an adjustment. We’ll work things out soon, I promise. The last couple of days have been hectic, to say the least. Give yourself a break. Order some room service—whatever you want. Enjoy yourself!”
When Gavin and Trace left, I dropped onto a sofa, relieved to be alone at last. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, letting the frantic insanity of the last few days fade from my mind. Then I picked up the phone and dialed zero.
A woman’s voice answered immediately. “Front desk. How may I help you?”
“Could I please order room service?”
“Absolutely, sir. What would you like?”
“Uh …” I thought about what Gavin had said. Whatever you want. I didn’t know when I’d have a chance like this again, so why not take advantage of it? “I’d like a … pepperoni and peanut butter pizza, please. Extra cheese. And a—a lobster with ice cream on top.”
The voice on the other end of the line let out a surprised squeak. “I apologize, sir, but I believe there may have been a misunderstanding. You want ice cream … on your lobster?”
“That’s right. Chocolate-vanilla swirl, if you have it.”
“And pizza with—”
“Pepperoni and peanut butter. Can you make that?”
“Yes, sir, I believe so. But—”
“Great! And what kind of sodas do you have?”
In a slightly annoyed voice, the lady listed off about twelve different types.
“I’ll take all of them, please,” I said when she was done.
“All of them?”
“Yes, please. I’m the Nameless Hero,” I added, in case she needed to know.
There was a long pause, like maybe the lady was trying to decide whether this was a prank call.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I’ll just have to check with my manager.”
I could hear her whispering to someone. When she mentioned that the order was for the Nameless Hero, there was a sudden rustling on the other end of the line. The manager must’ve been wrestling the phone away from her, because a second later, a man’s deep voice was speaking in my ear.
“I’m terribly sorry for the confusion, Mr.… uh—Mr. Hero,” he said. “We don’t usually receive such … creative orders. We’ll send the meal up to your room as soon as possible.”
While I waited for my room service to arrive, I dialed another number.
My mom answered on the second ring. As soon as I heard her voice, I realized how much I’d missed her and my dad. It’d been only a few days since I’d left home, but with everything that had happened, it felt like I hadn’t seen them in weeks.
“Joshua! It’s so wonderful to hear from you!” I had to hold the phone away to keep my mom’s excited squeal from splitting my eardrum. “How are you? How’s camp?”
I’d completely forgotten that my parents still thought I was at Gyfted & Talented summer camp. Here I was, fighting supervillains and staying in a five-star hotel, and all this time, my parents probably imagined me singing campfire songs and using my spontaneous combustion to make s’mores.
Not that I could tell them any different. Something gave me the feeling that they wouldn’t like the idea of the New York Gazette referring to their son as “the world’s hottest new superhero.”
“I’m so glad you called, son!” Dad joined the conversation on speakerphone. “Elliot’s been asking about you ever since you left. Can you believe it?”
“That’s … uh—nice.” I wasn’t sure whether to feel proud or concerned that our defective robot butler missed me.
“He’s made huge improvements over the last few days!” Dad went on. “That trick with the bell I showed you—it was just the beginning. By the time you get back, I expect I’ll have most of the flaws worked out.”
“Hmph,” Mom said. She didn’t sound convinced.
“So have you heard about this new superhero who’s getting so much attention right now?” Dad pronounced the word “superhero” with the same tone he might have used to describe a mosquito buzzing around his ear.
“The Nameless Hero,” Mom said, sounding even less impressed. “That’s exactly what our culture needs. Yet another supercelebrity hack.”
“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” I said.
“Oh, come on!” I could hear the disdain in Dad’s voice. “You probably don’t have TVs at that camp of yours, but let me tell you—he was on practically every morning show today. Smiling and waving like he’s the greatest thing in the world.”
“He’s just a product being sold to the masses,” Mom said.
“I doubt he sees himself that way,” I pointed out.
“Probably not,” Mom agreed. “After all, he’s still so young. I’d say he’s about your age.”
“Exactly my age, actually.”
“Huh?” Dad said.
“Never mind.” I knocked a couple of satin cushions off the sofa. It was bad enough that Milton was angry with me. Now I had to listen to my parents tell me how awful I was.
So why not quit? There’d been a tiny voice in the corner of my mind asking this question all day. If I dropped out now, I could go back to my old life and still have a chance to enjoy the rest of the summer. No more awkward interviews. No more spandex wedgies.
Maybe quitting really was my best option. I was about to bring up this possibility with my parents, but Mom spoke first.
“There’s something you should know, Joshua.” Her voice dropped away, as if she were considering whether or not to go on. Finally, she said, “There are rumors that Phineas Vex is working on some kind of top-secret project. And he’s assembled a team of experts to help him.”
“Many of the world’s best doctors, scientists, and engineers have been going missing,” Dad went on. “We think
they’re working for Vex now.”
I gripped the phone more tightly. “Why? Why would they do that?”
“Vex is very wealthy,” Mom said. “And very dangerous. One way or another, he has the ability to make just about anyone work for him.”
I looked around my huge hotel room, suddenly aware of how isolated I was. If only Sophie and Milton were with me. But they were hundreds of miles away, hidden deep beneath the earth. Maybe the Nameless Hero had tons of adoring fans, but I’d never felt so alone.
“Here’s the strangest part,” Dad said. “One scientist who went missing had a tracking chip installed in her wristwatch. It could tell her whereabouts, even after she vanished. And you’ll never believe where she ended up.”
I held my breath. “Where?”
Before Dad could get the first syllable out, there was a disturbance on the other end of the line. For a few seconds, it sounded like my parents were playing football with the phone. Then someone new joined the conversation.
“Hellloooo, Joshuaaaak!” came a mangled electronic voice that I recognized immediately.
“Elliot!” I said. “Please—put my parents back on the line. Now!”
“Howzzz summmmer caaaaaamp!”
“It’s fine. Now, could you give the phone back to my mom and dad?”
From the sounds coming through the receiver, I could only guess what was happening. I could hear pounding footsteps, a sudden crash. Dad’s voice cried out in the distance. “Come back here with that! No, Elliot, don’t put the phone in your mou—”
CHOMP!
And just like that, the line went dead.
22
“Let’s go, Nameless!” Gavin barked at me. “We’re late already!”
I was standing in front of the hotel, rubbing my eyes. I’d been living at the Ritz-Carlton for a week already. The past seven days had gone by in a daze, a dizzying loop of talk shows, journalists, screaming fans …
Ever since the events at Times Square, my life had flipped upside down. Crowds formed wherever I went. Plans were already in the works for action figures, a movie, a national tour.