The Superhero's Son (Book 7): The Superhero's Vision

by Lucas Flint

  Thaumaturge just rubbed his forehead in exasperation, while Wrath smirked and even chuckled at the joke. The large man smiled a big smile himself, as if his own joke had amused him greatly.

  “Um, sorry, but I don’t know you,” I said to the large man. “Of course, that might be due to my amnesia, so—”

  “No, you’ve never actually met this man before,” said Thaumaturge. “So allow me to introduce you to Joseph Hanson, the owner of this mansion and a fellow Visionist.”

  “Wait, you’re the same Joseph Hanson who owns this mansion?” I said. “Well, then I would like to apologize in advance for—”

  Incantation elbowed me and gave me a look that said, Not right now, so I just kept my mouth shut, since I was pretty sure that Incantation was going to turn me into a rabbit if I kept talking.

  “Indeed,” said Hanson with a chuckle. “I am a devoted follower of the Visionary’s dream and am currently the largest benefactor of Vision in general. It is truly … tragic how our leader has been in the hands of our enemies for so long, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, but I noticed an undercurrent of hostility under Hanson’s jovial words, which made me wonder what Hanson was upset about. Maybe he was just annoyed by the fact that the Visionary was imprisoned. “Yes, it is. By the way, what are your powers?”

  “The only one that counts,” said Hanson. He pulled out a wad of cash from his front right pocket and waved it at me. “Money.”

  “Money?” I said. “Is your superhero name … Moneyman?”

  Hanson laughed. “No, you misunderstand. I don’t have any powers of my own. I’m just a very rich man who can afford many of life’s greatest pleasures, though there is no pleasure greater than saving our leader from the hands of our enemies, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, nodding. “How long have you been a Visionist?”

  “I was one of the first,” said Hanson. “Joined twenty years ago, after I donated a few million dollars to Sagan’s first senatorial campaign. Our leader told me of his vision in a private meeting and I could not help but fall in love with it. I am willing to spend anything to support the vision and fully realize it, even if that means opposing the government.”

  “Yes, yes, we know,” said Thaumaturge impatiently. “If you are wondering why Joseph is here, it is because he heard about your mission to the White House last night and wanted to congratulate you on it.”

  “Indeed I do,” said Hanson. “But more importantly, I want to be here when the Visionary is rescued so I can be one of the first to see him again. That should happen today, shouldn’t it, Edward?”

  Thaumaturge stiffened. “It’s Thaumaturge.”

  Hanson shook his head. “I still don’t understand all this superhero name business. Why not just call yourself Edward and be done with it?”

  “If you had powers of your own, Hanson, you would understand,” said Thaumaturge, still as stiff as ever, like he was trying to keep himself from doing something he might regret.

  I was under the impression, based on the way Thaumaturge looked at and spoke with Hanson, that they had had this conversation before. Considering how old they were, I figured that they must have known each other for a long time. And based on how Wrath was just smiling and chuckling, I guess Wrath must have known them for a while as well.

  “Come on, you two,” said Wrath, clapping his hands together. “No need to fight. It’s entertaining as hell, sure, but don’t we have more important things to talk about? Like saving our leader, for example?”

  “Anthony is spot on, as usual,” said Hanson. “Saving our leader is more important than any petty disagreements we may have.”

  “Anthony is Wrath’s real name?” I said.

  “It is, but that is irrelevant,” said Thaumaturge, waving off the point. “What matters more is giving you all an update about our leader’s status since last night.”

  “All right,” I said. “We’re listening.”

  “As I suspected, the G-Men are moving our leader out of Facility Fifty-Two and into a new location, though we don’t know where yet,” said Thaumaturge. “Last night, I had one of our loyal members in Arizona head out to Facility Fifty-Two’s location and place a tracking device on the vehicle that is transporting our leader to his new location. Technical has been tracking the vehicle’s movements on her computer.”

  Technical nodded. “Yes. So far, the vehicle is still going through the desert in a northerly direction, but we don’t know its exact destination yet.”

  “Good,” said Thaumaturge. “As long as we can track it, we shall save our leader no matter what its final destination may be.”

  “Great,” I said. “So what’s the plan?”

  “It’s very simple,” said Thaumaturge. “You, Hopper, and Incantation will intercept the vehicle. You will be transported approximately five miles down the road the vehicle is traveling upon in a spot where you will be able to see every vehicle that goes up and down the road. Once the vehicle is close enough, you three will ambush the vehicle, defeat its guards, and take our leader back to the Hanson Mansion via one of Hopper’s portals.”

  “That’s it?” I said. “We’re that close to saving our leader?”

  “Correct,” said Thaumaturge. “Granted, the vehicle is an armored van that is likely well-protected, but with your powers combined, you should have little trouble taking down its guards and saving our leader.”

  “What do we know about the van’s defenses?” I said. “Are there any G-Men on it, for example?”

  “There are at least two, according to what our scout in the field saw when he placed the tracking device on the van,” said Thaumaturge. “One is Iron Horn, a huge man with a giant horn growing out of his skull covered in metal, while the other is known as Blood Boil, whose powers are unknown to us, since he appears to be a new member of the G-Men. But he is probably powerful, given that he is part of our leader’s security detail, so do not underestimate him if you fight him.”

  “Iron Horn …” I repeated that name. It sounded very familiar to me, even though I was sure I hadn’t met this Iron Horn guy before. “All right. When do we leave?”

  “As soon as possible,” said Thaumaturge. “The vehicle has been driving all night and has not stopped once since leaving Facility Fifty-Two. If we don’t stop it soon, it will likely reach its destination, which will make it impossible for us to rescue our leader.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m ready to go.”

  “But first, you should have a quick breakfast,” said Thaumaturge. “There is no need to leave hungry. If you don’t eat, your hunger will affect your thinking, which will make it difficult for you to rescue our leader.”

  My stomach growled when Thaumaturge said that, even though I hadn’t been hungry before, so I said, “Sure. Let’s eat, but let’s eat as fast as possible. I don’t want to delay this mission anymore than we already have.”

  -

  After breakfast, Hopper, Incantation, and I went out onto the front lawn of Hanson’s mansion, where we were met by Thaumaturge and Wrath, who wished us luck and told us that they would be monitoring our actions in the mission from Technical’s computer in the mansion. And, as usual, Wrath was going to be our backup, though I doubted we’d need his help, because I figured we’d be able to rescue our leader without too much trouble, since the vehicle was only protected by two guys.

  Once we were ready to go, Hopper opened a portal, which all three of us entered. Soon, we found ourselves standing in a high pass in a hot, dusty desert somewhere in Arizona. Even though it was still fairly early in the morning, the sun in the sky above was already hot enough to make me sweat, though my costume managed to keep me cool. Incantation and Hopper, however, weren’t so lucky with their costumes and were sweating a lot even though we had only been here for less than five minutes.

  Wiping the sweat off my brow, I looked down at the road below, but did not see any vehicles on it. “I don’t see the van. Where is it?”

  “I
teleported us a few miles ahead of it,” Hopper explained. “That way, we would be ready to ambush it when it arrived.”

  “All right,” I said. I pointed to the other side of the pass, at a group of rocks that looked like they could hide us from view. “You two should go over there and wait behind those rocks. I’ll go down below and wait for the van to come. Once it arrives, I’ll stop it in the middle of the road and you guys can attack.”

  Incantation and Hopper nodded and soon were on the other side of the pass, hiding behind the rocks that I had pointed out. I flew down to the base of the pass and then hid behind another boulder, crouching low so that I would not be seen by the van before I wanted to be seen.

  We waited for only five minutes, listening intently, but it felt like forever, probably because of the heat of the desert. I had never been to Arizona before, but even though I’d heard all about how hot it was, none of the descriptions came close to accurately describing the intense heat pouring down on us. And this was just in the morning; I shuddered to think about how hot it would get in the afternoon.

  But soon I heard the sounds of a large vehicle rumbling down the road. A quick peek around the side of the boulder showed me that a large armored military vehicle was coming through the pass. It looked like the one that our leader was being transported in. Due to the distance, I couldn’t see who the driver was, but I didn’t need to in order to save my leader.

  I pulled back behind the rock and looked up at the top of the pass. Incantation peeked her head out and gave me the thumbs up, indicating that she and Hopper were ready to begin the ambush.

  I returned the thumbs up, but didn’t leave my hiding place behind the rock until the vehicle was practically upon me. Then I ran out from behind the boulder and stopped in the middle of the road just as the vehicle was about to leave the pass.

  The vehicle crashed into me, which would have flattened me if I hadn’t used my super strength to catch it. Its grill crumpled underneath my strength immediately, but the vehicle itself kept pushing against me, its tires screeching against the pavement as its drivers, whoever it was, tried to run me over.

  But I didn’t hesitate to immediately smash in the vehicle’s engine with a single strike of my fist, causing its tires to stop screeching and the vehicle itself to go completely silent.

  As soon as the engine died, the door to the driver’s side of the van burst open and an absurdly large and muscular man jumped out of it. He towered above me, probably at around seven and a half feet tall, and the G-Men patch on his right shoulder and the massive metal horn sticking out of his head told me that this was the Iron Horn guy that Thaumaturge had debriefed us on earlier. He looked extremely familiar, but I didn’t let myself get distracted by my feelings of déjà vu, because Iron Horn looked big enough to pick me up and snap me in two with one hand if I wasn’t careful. I did, however, wonder how the heck he’d fit that huge horn in the driver’s cab, but decided that that was a mystery I would figure out later.

  Iron Horn had been scowling when he jumped out, but when he saw me, his scowl was replaced by a look of surprise. “Bolt? Is that you?”

  “How do you know my name?” I said. “We’ve never met before.”

  “Yes, we have,” said Iron Horn. “You don’t remember?”

  The back of my head ached and I suddenly saw an image of myself talking to a guy who looked an awful lot like Iron Horn outside of what looked like a warehouse, but I shook my head and said, “Stop lying. You’re just like Shade, trying to make me doubt myself. I’m here to save our leader and save the world from the falsehoods that you and your kind spread.”

  Iron Horn shook his head. “Shade told me that you had been brainwashed, but I hadn’t realized just how thorough it was. Oh, well. I suppose I’ll just have to beat the brainwashing out of you with my bare hands, then.”

  Iron Horn smashed his fist into his other hand, but I wasn’t going to let him get the first hit. I ran at him, but before I took more than a few steps toward him, my body froze.

  My mind hadn’t; I still intended to punch Iron Horn in the face. But my body had frozen; I couldn’t even move my pinkie toe. No matter how much my mind told my body to move, it just stayed still.

  “What?” I said, looking down at my body. “What’s going on? Why can’t I move?”

  “Because I wanted you to stop,” said a voice from inside the vehicle’s cockpit.

  I looked over at the open door to the vehicle just in time to see another man step out of the driver’s side. He was another G-Man, based on the patch on his shoulder, but he was much shorter and thinner than Iron Horn, although I supposed that everyone was shorter and thinner than Iron Horn.

  Unlike Iron Horn, this guy had long red hair. His skin was tanned, while a pair of sunglasses blocked his eyes from my view. He had a gun holstered at his side, while one of his hands was held out toward me like a king beckoning his subjects to bow before him. He grinned when he saw the shocked look on my face, the kind of grin that makes you want to punch it off his face.

  “Who are you?” I said.

  “Call me Blood Boil,” said the man. His voice was smug and mocking, which fit with his face very well. “And I just succeeded where Shade failed, by catching you.”

  I remembered Thaumaturge informing us of someone named Blood Boil being one of the G-Men agents protecting the van, but unlike Iron Horn, Blood Boil’s appearance wasn’t familiar. “You caught me? Are you behind this?”

  “Indeed,” said Blood Boil with a creepy chuckle. “It’s my special power. I can control the flow of blood in other people, turning them into puppets and controlling their every movement. Or just stopping them outright, like I did with you now.”

  “Good job, Blood,” said Iron Horn, though I noticed he looked distinctly uncomfortable around his fellow agent, avoiding his gaze. “The Director will be happy to hear that we caught Bolt. I should call Washington and let him know so he can send help to apprehend Bolt right away.”

  Iron Horn pulled an oversized smartphone out of his pocket, but before he could call up his leader, I heard something that sounded like a waterfall. Looking up, I saw a huge water ball falling directly toward us.

  Iron Horn and Blood Boil also looked up at the water ball in surprise. But it was too late to dodge it; the water ball crashed onto them both with a loud splash, sending water flying everywhere. The water hit me and I was knocked over, which left me briefly dazed before I shook my head and sat up and looked at Iron Horn and Blood Boil.

  The two G-Men were lying on the ground, both soaking wet. Iron Horn’s clothes clung to his ripped chest and limbs, while Blood Boil’s red hair splayed out around his head, looking way too much like a pool of blood than hair. Both appeared to have been knocked silly from the impact of the waterfall, although they were both obviously still alive, though probably wouldn’t recover anytime soon.

  That was when I realized that I was back in control of my body. I jumped to my feet, dusting off some of the mud that had gotten on my backside, just as a portal exploded open next to me and Incantation and Hopper ran out of it.

  As the portal closed behind them, Incantation said, “Bolt, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my shoulders and rubbing my neck. “Did you drop that water ball on them?”

  “Yes,” said Incantation. She swished her wand. “I can conjure water from nowhere. One of the many spells of the Old Way that is at my disposal.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “We need to take advantage of this moment to—”

  A couple of loud groans caused us to look over at Iron Horn and Blood Boil. They were both rising back to their feet, shaking their heads, their clothes dripping wet and also covered in mud. Blood Boil’s hair, in particular, had some large splotches of mud on it, but Blood Boil hardly seemed to notice it. He just glared at us, brushing back his wet hair, while Iron Horn looked down at his completely soaked smartphone in disappointment.

  “Nice trick, kids,” said Blood Boil, “but it will tak
e more than that to defeat the elite agents of the G-Men. Right, Iron Horn?”

  “Yeah,” said Iron Horn. He tossed away his phone and raised his fists. “I hate to have to do this, kid, but the Director gave us orders to use whatever means necessary to take you down if we ran into you. And we can’t let you rescue Sagan, either.”

  “But there’s no need to fight them,” said Blood Boil. He raised his hands. “I’ll just—”

  He was interrupted when Incantation thrust out her wand toward him. Blue ribbons shot out of the wand’s tip and wrapped around Blood Boil’s hands, tying them together so tightly that he actually cried out in pain.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” said Incantation. “I saw what you did to Bolt. I’m not going to let you do that to us.” She looked at Hopper and me. “I’ll take on that guy, while you two keep Iron Horn busy. Hopper, use Battle Tactic Alpha.”

  “Roger that,” said Hopper.

  I raised an idea. “Battle Tactic Alpha? What the heck is that?”

  “Oh, right, you don’t remember,” said Hopper. “Well, you see—”

  Iron Horn suddenly charged at us, his horn aimed down. Despite his size, he moved as fast as a rampaging rhino, forcing Hopper to grab my arm and yank me through a portal he suddenly opened to avoid Iron Horn’s attack.

  In the next instant, we emerged onto a different part of the pass, about a hundred feet away from Iron Horn, who skid to a stop on the asphalt road and turned to face us. A quick glance in the direction of the vehicle showed me that Incantation was fighting Blood Boil, who, despite having his hands tied up, was able to dodge her attacks and respond with kicks that looked like the kind that professional martial artists used.

  But I didn’t have time to focus on Incantation’s fight with Blood Boil, not when I had my own opponent to deal with.