The Superhero's Son (Book 8): The Superhero's Prison

by Lucas Flint

  I didn’t bring up this matter with the other prisoners, either, because again I did not know if I could trust any of them. Ivan and Rime were truly the only two prisoners I trusted in here; the rest I didn’t know and didn’t want to know. I did wonder, though, whether there were any other prisoners in this place who were jailed unjustly; under other circumstances, I might have tried to help them, but since I couldn’t be sure who was and was not innocent, I kept the plans strictly between me, Rime, and Ivan.

  The plan that I had made so far was not yet complete, but it went something like this:

  According to Ivan, the only time of day when the guards were not patrolling Ultimate Max was at midnight, when the day guards would switch out with the night guards. That left a small ten minute window in which there were no guards patrolling the halls; however, the exterior walls were still protected, and the hallways themselves were observed by automated security systems all day and all night without rest.

  Furthermore, all prison cells were locked remotely from the security center, which was located on the top floor of the prison down a hall from the Warden’s office. Therefore, if you wanted to escape, you would need to access the security center and turn off the prison’s entire automated security system, which would then take down the last remaining defenses that kept the prisoners from escaping.

  My plan, therefore, was this: At midnight, right when the guards were switching shifts, I’d have someone shut down the prison’s security systems and open my cell. I would then take advantage of this and run, using my super speed to allow me to escape the prison before the guards could take their positions and reactivate the systems again.

  The problem, though, was this: How was I going to reach the security center when I was stuck in my prison cell on the first floor? I didn’t have Triplet’s powers; I couldn’t split myself into multiple clones and send one to go up to the security center. Nor could I ask one of the guards to do it for me; Ivan told me that the guards were trained to never take bribes from prisoners, in addition to each guard undergoing strict background checks to make sure they had not been involved with any of the prisoners interned here.

  It seemed like an impossible obstacle to overcome, which almost made me give up, but then Rime told me that he might be able to help. He said that he could create little ‘Ice Soldiers,’ which were basically tiny walking ice statues that obeyed his will. He could have one of these Ice Soldiers sneak into the lunch cooler of one of the guards who manned the security center, wait until midnight, and then climb out and shut down the systems from within. Rime even demonstrated his ability to do that by creating a tiny Ice Soldier (which looked just like a real soldier, except small and made entirely of ice) in his hands. I made a mental note to ask him to teach Blizzard how to do that once we escaped, since I thought it could be a useful power for her to know.

  Speaking of Blizzard, I managed to get her in on the scheme, too. Despite the fact that our visits were always heavily monitored by the guards, I managed to communicate my plan to Blizzard through carefully chosen code words. Of course, it was awkward at first because Blizzard just didn’t understand what I meant when I talked about our ‘big friend from up north’ (my codename for Rime), but she eventually caught on and we soon established that she would be waiting in a forest outside the prison where me and Rime could hide after we escaped the prison. Once we met up with her, she’d take us back to Hero Island and I’d start searching for White Lightning, wherever he was.

  So the plan was simple: Wait for guards to switch out, turn off the security system, and then just run, run, run until we escaped the prison. Then run some more until we find Blizzard, at which point we run back to Hero Island, and then we look for White Lightning, who would undoubtedly show up for a fight with me once he knew that I had escaped Ultimate Max.

  And best of all, none of the guards or employees in Ultimate Max even seemed to notice. That was why I was confident the plan would work; I mean, sure, plans don’t always go the way you think they will, but I honestly didn’t see how this plan could possibly go wrong. I estimated that it would take me and Rime ten minutes to escape Ultimate Max after the security systems were shut down, which would be more than enough time for us to escape.

  The only part I didn’t like was that Ivan was staying behind. He certainly gave me a lot of good information about the prison’s inner works, but I still would have preferred it if he came with me. Yet I never pushed the subject anytime we talked, because I knew he was not going to be convinced by any attempt to reason with him.

  I also didn’t involve Grandfather in the plan. I had no intention of saving Grandfather; yeah, he was my grandpa, but he deserved to be in prison. Besides, he had told me everything he knew about the angels; it wasn’t like he knew anything else important, and he would have been deadweight that would have only slowed us down anyway due to his age and frailty.

  Thus, everything seemed to be looking up, and I even set a date to try the escape attempt, but then something completely unexpected happened: A G-Man agent came to visit me the day before I put my escape plan into action.

  I was lifting weights with Ivan in the prison yard when a couple of guards came up to us and told me that someone from the G-Men was here to see me. Before I could ask who it was, the two guards grabbed and dragged me away from Ivan, telling me not to resist unless I wanted to be dragged there unconscious. And I didn’t resist, because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop them if they wanted to get me, and I also didn’t want my legs broken before I could try to escape tomorrow.

  But I was worried. I was worried that the G-Men agent who I was going to talk to somehow knew about my plans. If the agent was Cadmus Smith, then I was surely doomed, because he’d just be able to read my mind and find out all about my escape plans. It probably wasn’t him, because the guards didn’t say it was him, but maybe it was another G-Men agent with telepathy, though as far as I knew Cadmus was the only member of the G-Men with telepathic powers.

  I was dragged to a dark, plain room somewhere in the middle of the prison; I say ‘somewhere’ because I was blindfolded and not allowed to see where I was being taken. I had no idea why they did that, but maybe they just didn’t want me to know the layout of the prison or something. It would certainly fit in with the guards’ general behavior toward the prisoners, anyway.

  Once we actually reached the room, they removed my blindfold, chained me to the table and chair, and then left. I was only alone in the room for a few seconds, however, before the G-Men agent entered.

  He was a bald, middle-aged man with a finely combed mustache. He carried no weapons, but he did have a cane, a cane I recognized from personal experience.

  “Mr. Apollo?” I said as the agent closed the door behind him and walked over to the table. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Apollo. He sat down in his chair and rested both hands on the head of his cane. “Long time, no see, Bolt. How has Ultimate Max treated you?”

  “Badly,” I said. “The food sucks, the water doesn’t seem to be filtered, and my mattress is lumpy and uncomfortable to sleep on.”

  “I will be sure to relay those comments to Warden Glass after our little meeting,” said Mr. Apollo. “He’s always seeking feedback from prisoners on ways to make this place even more miserable for inmates. It sounds to me like he still has some areas to improve upon.”

  It was hard to tell if Mr. Apollo was being sincere or sarcastic; given his general attitude, I decided it was the later.

  “What do you want?” I said. “Did Cadmus send you? Because if he did, tell him he can jump off a cliff.”

  Mr. Apollo shrugged. “Director Smith probably already knows that. He told me you might not be in a cooperative mood due to how we treated you.”

  “Might not be in a—?” I shook my head. “You guys tricked me into helping you defeat Vision, knocked me out without explanation, and then threw me into a prison full of guys who hate my guts. Frankly, I think describing my mood as ‘
uncooperative’ is the understatement of the year.”

  “You whine too much,” said Mr. Apollo. “When I was your age, I didn’t whine that much.”

  “Because you weren’t thrown into prison for no reason,” I said. “But since you’re here, I assume you’re going to tell me why you threw me into prison?”

  “Director Smith didn’t tell me that,” said Mr. Apollo. “It surprises me, since the Director usually tells me these sorts of things, so I can only assume that his reasons for throwing you into prison are top secret.”

  “Then why the heck are you even here?” I said. “To complain about kids these days or something?”

  “No,” said Mr. Apollo, “though I have to admit that that is a fun pastime for us older folks. The real reason I was sent to speak with you is because the Director wanted me to tell you to stay put.”

  I frowned. “Stay put? What does that mean?”

  “It means that you shouldn’t try to escape Ultimate Max, obviously,” said Mr. Apollo. “He said you’re safer here than outside.”

  “Okay, now I know that Cadmus is pulling my leg,” I said. “How am I safer among my enemies than among my friends? It makes no sense. On my first day here, I almost got into a fight with a bunch of my old enemies.”

  “Again, I don’t know the exact reasoning behind it, but I assume it has to do with that kid known as White Lightning, who looks surprisingly like you,” said Mr. Apollo. “Have you seen him on TV?”

  “Yes,” I said. “By the way, how’s the search for him going? You guys just sitting around and hoping he has the balls to attack one of your bases so you don’t have to find him yourself?”

  Mr. Apollo rolled his eyes. “Finding him isn’t that easy. He has this tendency to appear and disappear like lightning. Besides, I’d like to see you try to find him. I imagine it would be hilarious.”

  “Maybe I should try to find him,” I said. “I’d probably have way more luck than you guys.”

  Mr. Apollo did not respond to that. He just said, “The Director also wanted me to check up on you and make sure you were still okay. Warden Glass has been giving us regular updates on your health, but the Director wanted a direct report from someone he trusts.”

  “Wait, you mean Glass has been monitoring me?” I said. “Why?”

  “Because the Director told him to, of course,” said Mr. Apollo. “By the way, Glass doesn’t have a very high opinion of you, either. He thinks you’re too whiny. I told him that all kids your age seem to be that way nowadays. He agrees.”

  I ignored the jab. “It’s so nice to hear that the guy who threw me into jail for no reason cares about my health. It almost makes the loss of my freedom and smearing of my reputation worth it. Almost.”

  Mr. Apollo shrugged again. “Sarcasm and wit don’t impress the Director. I can tell you that much.”

  “Is that all?” I said. “Just stay put?”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Apollo. “It’s a simple order, though those always seem to be the orders that people have the most trouble with, don’t you agree?”

  “I have ‘trouble with it’ because I haven’t been given a good reason to obey it,” I said. “And what’s Cadmus thinking, giving me ‘orders’ like I’m one of his oh so loyal G-Men agents?”

  “The Director orders everyone around except for the President,” said Mr. Apollo. “Even then, I’m sure the Director would order Plutarch around if he could get away with it.”

  “Right,” I said. “Are we done talking now or something?”

  “Yes,” said Mr. Apollo. He glanced at his old-fashioned wristwatch. “I have to return to Washington for my next mission from the Director, so I’m leaving now. Just remember the Director’s orders and you should be fine.”

  Mr. Apollo rose from his seat, but before he could leave, a question came to mind and I abruptly asked, “What is the Apocalypse Switch?”

  Mr. Apollo froze. His old eyes darted down toward me, now eying me like he wasn’t sure if he had heard me or not. “What did you say?”

  “The Apocalypse Switch,” I repeated. “What is it?”

  Mr. Apollo leaned on his cane; he looked like he was trying to decide whether to sit down or not. “Where did you hear that term? It’s supposed to be top secret.”

  “I have my sources,” I said, which I thought sounded a lot more impressive than ‘My grandpa told me.’ “Now, what is it?”

  Mr. Apollo’s eyes turned from uncertainty to skepticism. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Because I think it has something to do with White Lightning,” I said. “And I think that Cadmus knows that, too.”

  Mr. Apollo’s grip on his cane tightened. “No one is supposed to know about that. Only the highest government officials are allowed to know it even exists.”

  “But I know about it anyway,” I said. “Some secret, huh?”

  I thought Mr. Apollo was going to smack me over the head with his cane, but he just looked away. “I am under no obligation to answer your questions, especially on such sensitive issues. The Director has made it plain that only authorized government officials are allowed to divulge these secrets, and I am not authorized to do that.”

  “Who cares?” I said. “People get away with revealing government secrets all the time. Granted, sometimes they have to run away to Russia to avoid getting killed, but I hear Russia’s a nice place this time of year.”

  “I am not a traitor to the Director or the government,” said Mr. Apollo. “But when I hear you talk so casually about breaking the law, I do wonder if you are not being entirely honest about being innocent of committing a crime. Perhaps you are in prison because the Director learned of a crime that you committed in your past; he certainly has the resources to do a thorough background check on you or anyone else, if he so desires.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that the Apocalypse Switch and White Lightning are connected,” I said. “And I think I deserve to know this connection, whatever it is, because it might be the only way to stop him before he kills anyone else.”

  “The G-Men are already hard at work trying to stop him,” said Mr. Apollo. “Whatever connection may exist between White Lightning and the Apocalypse Switch—and I am not saying that any works—is unimportant and I will not waste any time speculating on that.”

  “You sure aren’t wasting any time dismissing that speculation, though,” I said. “I wonder if that means I’m onto something.”

  Mr. Apollo suddenly put the tip of his cane under my throat. That was when I realized that he had somehow managed to remove the cane’s tip to reveal a sharp knife underneath it, which was pressed up against my throat. Mr. Apollo himself was glaring at me, which was in sharp contrast to his normal calm demeanor.

  “It means that you are asking questions you shouldn’t, boy,” said Mr. Apollo, his voice harsh. “The kind of questions that get good men killed. And it would be quite a shame if you were to be killed; you are so young and have so much potential, or at least that is what the Director says, though I think you are just another whiny kid who thinks he’s hot stuff.”

  I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t want to give Mr. Apollo an excuse to slit my throat with the knife on his cane. I just met his glare, showing no weakness, until he looked away and removed his cane, which he then covered and rested on the floor again.

  “Now that I’ve wasted enough time as it is, it is time for me to go,” said Mr. Apollo. “I have more important things to do than waste time threatening a youngster like yourself.”

  Mr. Apollo walked toward the door, but before he could rest a hand on its knob, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. His normal calm demeanor, with a hint of amusement, had returned, but somehow it looked far more threatening than his anger had.

  “Oh, and Bolt?” said Mr. Apollo. “Remember the Director’s orders: Stay put. Do not attempt to escape this place. Or life will get very bad for you very quickly.”

  With that, Mr. Apollo opened the door and left. As soon as he l
eft, the two guards from before entered, unchained me from the table, and marched me out of the room without saying a word between them.

  I didn’t care, because I was thinking about what Mr. Apollo said—or, rather, what Cadmus had said through him.

  ‘Stay put’? Yeah, right. What did Cadmus know about what was best for me? He wasn’t my dad. He wasn’t even my uncle. He was just an overly bossy government official who thought that a prison for supervillains was the best place to keep a superhero safe.

  No matter what Cadmus Smith or anyone else thought, I was still going through with my escape plans. At this point, I had no choice, especially now that my suspicions of a link between White Lightning and the Apocalypse Switch—and perhaps of a link between White Lightning and the government in general—had been confirmed.

  Besides, even if something bad did happen after I escaped prison, I doubted it would be anywhere near as bad as what would happen if I didn’t escape.

  Chapter Nine

  It was five minutes before midnight of the day after my talk with Mr. Apollo. I lay on the top bunk of my and Ivan’s bunk bed, pretending to be asleep in case any guards came by to check on me, but I was really awake and waiting for Rime’s Ice Soldier to open the door to my cell. I had been awake for hours, but the anticipation meant I didn’t feel even slightly tired. I actually felt raring and ready to go; in fact, I was really impatient, so impatient that I wished I could leave now and not five minutes from now.

  The prison was incredibly quiet tonight, as it always was. Every now and then I’d hear the snoring of a prisoner, but by and large everyone slept pretty quietly, mostly because the guards punished anyone who slept too loudly. I wasn’t sure why, other than that the guards liked to boss the rest of us around.

  Feeling impatient, I looked over the side of my bed down at Ivan. I thought he might be asleep, but when I saw that he was lying with his eyes wide open, I whispered, “Can’t sleep?”

  Ivan shook his head. “No.”