The Nameless Hero

by Lee Bacon

  I slammed into the scorpion’s side with both hands just as another surge of spontaneous combustion flared through me.

  In an instant, the scorpion exploded into a cloud of silver scrap metal. But there wasn’t a lot of time to enjoy the fireworks. At one end of the studio, Sophie was struggling to hold off two of the robots. At the other end, a second pair was going after nFinity in a blur of claws and razor-sharp tails. With his injured shoulder, I doubted he’d be able to survive their attacks much longer.

  Milton landed next to me. As he glanced from Sophie to nFinity, I could see him reaching the same conclusion. There was no way to help one without abandoning the other—unless we worked together.

  “I’ll help nFinity, and you help Sophie?” I suggested. I halfway expected Milton to ignore me out of spite. Instead, he nodded.

  “Good luck,” he said.

  “You too.”

  And then we were off. On the way to nFinity’s end of the studio, I passed by a table where boxes of Triple-P Advanced Acne Cream were being displayed. Without slowing down, I grabbed a jumbo-sized bottle and launched it at one of the scorpions. A pulse of energy. A flash of red. And just like that, the zit cream was transformed into a blazing missile that exploded as soon as it hit the scorpion.

  I kept running. Somewhere in my peripheral vision, I caught a quick glimpse of the crew, crowded in the center of the room. Some of them had picked up cameras and were using them to film the scene that was taking place around them.

  But there was no time to pose for a close-up. The remaining scorpion had nFinity backed against the wall, one hand clutched to his bloody shoulder. A swipe of the scorpion’s tail grazed his leg, leaving behind a bloody gash above his knee.

  I got to the robot an instant before it could move in for the kill and grabbed the thing’s tail from behind. This was the point when I’d hoped the robot would blast apart and we’d all be saved. But that wasn’t what happened. Using my Gyft so many times in a row had left me drained.

  And the timing couldn’t have been worse. Without spontaneous combustion, I was just a kid hugging the sharp end of an oversized scorpion. Not where I wanted to be.

  The robot twisted to look at me. I barely had time to react before one of its claws snapped. Another moment’s hesitation and the thing would’ve split me in two. I jumped sideways as the claw came at me again. This time it was even closer. As I sidestepped the attack, my feet tangled underneath me and I tumbled to the ground.

  The scorpion leveled its gaze on me. Cold, unblinking eyes that seemed to be considering which would be the better way to kill me—cutting me in half with its claws or skewering me with its tail like a shish kebab.

  I crawled backward, hands and feet scrabbling over the hard floor. The scorpion loomed over me.

  Catching another glimpse of the crowd, I saw all the cameras trained on me. How many views would the Nameless Hero’s death attract on YouTube?

  My vision filled with a flash of silver as the robot made its move.

  24

  As the scorpion lunged forward, something swept over it. A net. The robot snapped backward like a dog on a leash, claws and tail swinging frantically.

  The fog of panic in my mind cleared long enough for me to figure out what had happened. After freeing herself from the net, Miranda had thrown it across the robot’s body. Sophie and Milton must’ve taken care of the other two scorpions, because they ran to join her.

  Glowing in her golden uniform, Sophie grabbed one end of the net and flung it above her head, heaving the scorpion like a sack of flour. When she released her grip on the net, the robot sailed across the studio and collided with the wall in a thunderous crash of metal against brick. Robot parts clattered to the ground in a heap.

  “That’s the last of them.” Sophie rushed to my side. “Are you all right?”

  I nodded. “Just a little shaken up. But nFinity—”

  “Don’t worry about me,” nFinity spoke up. “I’ll be fine.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened when she noticed the extent of his injuries. “What do you mean, ‘fine’?” Her voice cracked with concern. “You’re bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital.”

  “It’s just a scratch. Really. The uniform’s body armor absorbed most of the impact.”

  But Gavin wasn’t taking any chances. “I already made a call. The doctor’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

  While we waited, Gavin pulled me aside. I figured he was about to give me a stern lecture about how wrong it was to jolt your elders with spontaneous combustion. Or maybe he was going to yell at me for nearly getting myself killed. Instead, he smiled, patting me on the back.

  “Terrific job back there, Nameless!” he exclaimed. “We got some great footage of you blowing up that robot. I’m tellin’ ya, kid … once this hits the news, there’s no telling the endorsement deals you’ll be getting. Pimple Prevention Power is just the beginning!”

  “Those scorpions,” I said. “They were sent by Phineas Vex.”

  At the mention of Vex’s name, Gavin’s mouth twitched like he was a fish gasping for breath. Another moment passed while he composed himself. By the time he responded, it was with his usual gruff confidence.

  “I seriously doubt that,” he said. “This attack has Multiplier’s name written all over it. With Brandy on his side, he knew we’d be here. Must’ve sent those things as payback for Times Square.”

  I shook my head. Something didn’t add up. Since when did Multiplier send robots to do his dirty work? He had an unlimited supply of clones for that kind of thing. And I still couldn’t entirely convince myself that Brandy had betrayed us. What if there was another reason for her disappearance?

  But Gavin had made up his mind. “From now on, Brandy is our enemy,” he said with a note of finality in his voice. “With the information she possesses, she poses a grave threat to all of us. We certainly can’t go back to headquarters—no doubt she’s shared the location with Multiplier. That means I’ve gotta find somewhere else for the rest of the group. And you.”

  “We can all stay together!” I blurted out.

  Gavin faced me, his eyes bulging with surprise. “What?”

  The idea took form in my head. “A new hotel. Five rooms. One for each of us.”

  “Absolutely not! There’ll be no place for the group to train!”

  “So we book a hotel with a fitness center.”

  Gavin gritted his teeth. “This isn’t a good idea. You’re a superstar now.”

  “So what? Superstars aren’t supposed to have any friends?”

  “Friends?” Gavin made it sound like a bad word when he said it. “Friends are a distraction. I’ve seen it plenty of times before. A kid with a lot of potential, and it all goes away because he’d rather hang around playing video games with friends than go to a photo shoot. What I’m offering you is better than friends. I want to make you the biggest star in the world.”

  I stood my ground, determined not to give in. “Either you book us all in the same place or I’m through with all of this. No more TV shows, no more pimple commercials.”

  Gavin stared at me in silence. “Fine,” he said tensely. “I’ll find a hotel for all of you.”

  “Also, I want to train with the others. And they get to come along for more of the publicity. We’re still a team. I want people to know that.”

  A vein throbbed on Gavin’s forehead. “This is lunacy. I’ll never—”

  “Okay, then.” I shrugged, reaching up to remove my mask.

  “Wait, WAIT! Fine—it’s a deal. Whatever you want.”

  “Good!” I had to keep myself from smiling. At least being a world-famous superhero came with a few perks.

  We must’ve been a strange sight when we arrived at our new hotel later that day. A bunch of kids in spandex uniforms walking through the lobby. Behind us, our luggage seemed to be floating through the air. Trace was invisible, but I could tell from his groaning that he wasn’t happy about carrying all our stuff.

 
“Isn’t this your job?” he barked at a couple of very confused-looking bellhops standing nearby.

  While Gavin checked everyone in, Milton approached me. For a few seconds, neither of us said anything. I thought about how we’d worked together back at the studio. Did that mean we were done arguing? Or did we only get along when our lives were at stake?

  “So, um …” Milton toed the carpet. “I heard you talked Gavin into letting everyone stay together.”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “And you said you wanted to train with us?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t want everyone to get buff except me.”

  I flexed a nonexistent muscle. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked to me like Milton was suppressing a laugh.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is …” Milton hesitated. “I’m—uh … sorry about … you know.”

  “Me too,” I muttered. “I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”

  Milton’s face broke into a smile that let me know in an instant that we were best friends again.

  After we were checked in, the rest of the team met at my room. I called for room service, and while we waited, the conversation turned to Brandy.

  “Over the past few days, I Sensed something about her,” Miranda said. “She’s been sneaking around behind Gavin’s back.”

  “Doing what?”

  Miranda shook her head. “I don’t know. She’s good at blocking me. So are Gavin and Trace. They’re trained to keep Sensers out of their heads. But I managed to pick up a few fragments. Bits and pieces. She was hiding something. And she was worried that Gavin would find out.”

  “It must’ve been because of the security tapes,” nFinity said. “She stole them. And when Gavin got suspicious, she made a run for it.”

  “I just don’t get it,” Milton said. “Why would Brandy want to work with Multiplier?”

  “They were in that group together,” nFinity pointed out. “X-Treme Team.”

  “Yeah, until Multiplier killed one of the other members and disappeared for the next fifteen years,” I said.

  “Maybe she’s been acting as a spy for him this whole time,” Sophie said.

  “I don’t know.” Milton tugged at one of his uniform’s sleeves. “She looked pretty surprised to find out he was back.”

  “That could’ve just been a part of her act,” nFinity said.

  Our conversation went around and around like this until we were interrupted by the arrival of room service. When I answered the door, I was still too tense to laugh as the bellhop listed the food that we’d ordered.

  “Spaghetti and gummy bears. Five hamburgers dipped in chocolate sauce. French fries and pudding. A cake with potato chips sprinkled over it. And …” The bellhop paused, like he was trying to decide if this was all just a very weird dream. “A Belgian waffle in the shape of Abraham Lincoln’s head.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  Once the bellhop left, we all took our masks off and settled in front of the TV to eat our lunch. I was taking a bite of Abraham Lincoln’s top hat when the show we’d been watching ended suddenly and was replaced by a video of a man in a purple and black uniform.

  Multiplier.

  His thin lips curled into a revolting grin. The way he stared out of the TV screen, it was like he was looking right at me.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt your regularly scheduled programming,” he said, “but I have a message for the Nameless Hero.”

  25

  It’s not every day that a supervillain hijacks national television to send me a personal message.

  Multiplier glared through the TV screen. Behind him, I spotted a large object covered with a purple sheet.

  “If you’re watching, Nameless Hero, there are a few things I want you to know,” Multiplier said. “First of all, I don’t appreciate you and your friends visiting me in New York. And the way you rode one of my clones like he was your own personal subway system—not cool.”

  Multiplier’s voice made my skin crawl. I glanced behind him again. Whatever he had under the sheet took up a lot of space. And it wasn’t moving.

  “Of course, I understand your motivation,” Multiplier went on. “It’s what you superheroes do. Heck, I used to be just like you. Flying around, fighting evil. I lived the life. Adoring fans, TV shows … Then it all fell apart. I was forced into hiding by the same society that had once worshipped me.”

  Multiplier’s eyes narrowed, red under his mask.

  “But eventually I had to stage my comeback. You may be familiar with some of my recent work. The Grand Canyon. Mount Rushmore. The Hollywood sign. The Statue of Liberty. All famous, beloved by people everywhere. Just as I used to be. And now, like me, they’re ruined.”

  He turned, gesturing to whatever was under the purple sheet.

  “Now I’d like to direct your attention to my most recent project. Although it isn’t quite as large as the Statue of Liberty or Mount Rushmore, you’ll soon discover that it stacks up quite nicely next to the other landmarks I’ve visited.”

  With a single quick motion, Multiplier grabbed the sheet and swept it away.

  Behind him was a massive copper bell. But not just any bell. Along the surface ran a long crack that I recognized from my American history textbook.

  Multiplier had stolen the Liberty Bell.

  “My clones and I took a trip to Philadelphia,” he said. “And while we were there, we picked up quite a souvenir. I’m keeping it here in a place that should be very familiar to you and your superfriends. If you want it back, you’ll have to come for it. And bring the rest of the Alliance of the Impossible with you. Fail to meet my demand within two hours, and the Liberty Bell is going to have a lot more than one crack.”

  A wicked smirk passed across Multiplier’s face.

  “See you soon,” he said.

  And the screen turned to static.

  Ten minutes later, we were standing in front of the hotel in our masks and uniforms, when an SUV pulled up without anyone in the driver’s seat.

  “Here’s our ride,” Sophie said, opening the door. The rest of us piled inside after her.

  “So … um, where’re we going?” Milton asked once we were flying above Manhattan.

  “Multiplier said he was keeping the bell in a location that would be very familiar to all of us,” Gavin said. “That can only be one of two places.”

  “The tanning salon or the headquarters underneath,” Miranda said.

  “Exactly.”

  Clouds drifted past the window. The tip of the Empire State Building glimmered in the sunlight below us. Soon we crossed over the river, and the tall buildings were replaced by sparse farmland and country roads. I hadn’t been back to headquarters in more than a week, and now that I was finally returning, everything had changed. I’d shown up on the cover of Super Scoop, Brandy had betrayed us, the Liberty Bell was being held hostage by Multiplier.…

  But at the moment, we had more immediate problems.

  “We’re being followed,” Trace said.

  When I glanced at the security monitor built into the dashboard, I saw what he meant. The screen showed a view of two men on hover cycles trailing closely behind us.

  “D’you think they’re working for Multiplier?” Milton asked.

  “Worse,” Gavin said. “They’re paparazzi.”

  One of the guys zoomed forward until he was beside us. With the free hand that wasn’t gripping the handlebars, he aimed a massive camera into the side windows of the SUV, trying to snap photos of us.

  “Lose ’em,” Gavin growled.

  “With pleasure,” Trace said.

  It was a good thing we were wearing our seat belts. All of a sudden, everything rocked sideways and we plummeted toward the earth. For a few seconds there, I was sure we were going to crash. Then Trace slammed on the brakes and the seat belt strap dug into my shoulder. My stomach dropped as we rocketed upward again, performing a few loops and twists along the way. But no matter what Trace did, the paparazzi
stayed close on our tail.

  “It’s impossible to outmaneuver them in a vehicle this size,” he complained. “They’re too quick.”

  “Then we’ve gotta find another way to get rid of ’em.” Gavin twisted in his seat to peer angrily at the hover cycles. “We can’t have the press following us back to headquarters.”

  “I might have an idea,” I said. “It’s me they’re after, right?”

  Gavin nodded. “A single photo of the Nameless Hero can be worth hundreds. Thousands if you do something incredible.”

  “Then let’s give them what they want.”

  When I told the others my idea, they looked at me like I was crazy. But nobody else was coming up with any other solutions, and we were running short on time. If we didn’t get back to headquarters soon, Multiplier was going to turn the Liberty Bell into scrap metal.

  Milton and I climbed into the back of the SUV. The first part of my plan was easy enough—switch uniforms. Once we were done, Milton pulled my mask over his head and turned to me. “How do I look?”

  “Like me,” I admitted. “Only taller.”

  The only thing we didn’t exchange was our boots.

  “Won’t anyone wonder why the Nameless Hero suddenly has rocket-shoes?” he asked.

  “They’ll just assume I upgraded,” I said.

  Milton nodded. And just like that, the back of the SUV popped open. Waves of wind rushed through the vehicle. I gripped the side, watching the two photographers weave through the sky behind us on their hover cycles.

  As Milton inched closer to the opening, he glanced back at me. I could see excitement mixed with fear in his eyes.

  “It’s not too late to back out!” I yelled over the sound of the wind. “We can figure out some other way!”

  He shook his head. “I can do it!”

  Milton hesitated a second longer. Then he jumped.

  The paparazzi wavered for a second in the air as they watched the Nameless Hero fall to the earth. Then they directed their hover cycles after him.