Small Town Superhero Box Set: Complete Series

by Cheree Alsop

  “I’ll be careful,” I promised her.

  Magnum and I made our way back to the car. I thought aloud as I drove. “If Van’s doing the drop, we need to take him out. That will flush whoever is behind everything into the open. He has a drop that has to be done, and if nobody else is there to do it, than he will have to. We look for that man.”

  Magnum asked, “Do you think the sheriff will go for it?”

  I nodded. “He’s as anxious to be past this thing as we are. We’ll head there first.”

  “KELSON, THERE YOU ARE!” Mom said, smiling at me as children ran around her, petting Trouble and the other animals in the petting zoo.

  I motioned her over.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

  I leaned close to her ear. “I want you to get Aunt Lauren and the others and leave the festival until I call you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Kelson, what’s going on?”

  “It’s going to be dangerous here for a little bit,” I told her, trying to keep my voice low so nobody overheard. “I need you to go somewhere safe until things blow over.”

  She looked around. “But what about the families here at the festival? There are children everywhere!”

  I could hear her getting hysterical. I set a hand on her arm. “The sheriff and his men are here. They have things under control. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Where’s Madelyn?”

  “She went with Cassidy to look at some of the booths.”

  “I need you to get them and leave. Take Aunt Lauren, Uncle Rick, and the boys with you.”

  “But Kelson—”

  I shook my head, cutting her off. “Mom, I need to know that you and the others are safe. If I know that, I can do everything I need to in order to end this once and for all.”

  “Will you be careful?” she asked.

  It was a loaded question, one that said she guessed more of the recklessness and desperation behind my actions than I let on. Zoey’s death had changed a lot in me. I wondered if she knew just how much.

  Her gaze held mine, her eyes the same blue as Zoey’s had been.

  I let out a breath and nodded. “I’ll be careful. Just get everyone somewhere safe.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  I was about to turn away when she caught me in a quick hug. “Just remember that you have so much left to fight for,” she said quietly. She dropped her arms and let me walk away. I did so with the knowledge that Mom knew my struggles, accepted them, and would be there for me when the fighting was done.

  I WAITED BEHIND THE billboard with Deputy Addison. It was my idea to dress as the Black Rider. If things went wrong, I hoped my appearance would be enough to distract whoever was running the drop so civilians didn’t get hurt.

  Van’s arrest had taken place only a half hour before. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be time for whoever had planned the drop to find someone else. We had been thorough in taking out everyone we knew of, and according to Lisa, the mastermind behind everything was getting frantic. I hoped one last desperate act would be enough to end the threat once and for all.

  The sheriff’s deputies were dressed like civilians. They milled around the stage where the drop was supposed to take place just before one o’clock, if Lisa’s information was correct. I searched every face in the crowd that walked around the stage, wondering who was behind the attack on my life and was responsible for the increase of drug production in Sparrow. The deputies did what they could to deter passersby, but they could only do so much without alerting both parties that something was up.

  I was worried about whoever else was involved in the drop. According to Lisa, it was to be live, money exchanged for drugs. She knew a gang was involved, but not which one. Security at the entrance had been more thorough in checking for weapons, but there were so many ways to get into the festival that sneaking one in wouldn’t prove a problem for someone who was motivated. Even if we were dealing with only one person from Sparrow, after the last festival drop had ended in a shooting, I had no doubt the gang would bring extra backup.

  I half expected to see one of the Carrisons head to the stage. The FBI had inconclusive evidence, so they were just watching the family in case they noticed any suspicious activity. Martin’s information, the leak about my identity, and his connections all over town hinted that it might be a match. I scanned the faces for Martin’s familiar blond hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Instead, I saw someone I hadn’t expected.

  Madelyn walked toward the stage with a briefcase in her hands. She struggled a bit, arguing with whoever walked beside her. My heart froze at the sight of a gun between them, held tight against her ribs. She would die if whoever held her captive pulled the trigger. I shifted my gaze and my heart stopped completely.

  Principal Dawson was the man at her side. Everything flooded into contrast—his identity, the contacts he had with the Bullets at school, his sources all over Sparrow. He knew who I was, and he had suspended Martin from the Bulletin right after the article was published. It must have hit too close to home. He tried to help me graduate in the hopes that I would leave Sparrow in his hands. Everything had come to a close too quickly for him. He was trapped, and desperation showed on his face.

  Seeing Madelyn as his hostage made red burn behind my eyes.

  “Steady,” Deputy Addison said quietly beside me.

  “But it’s Maddy,” I replied in a strained whisper.

  “I know. Just wait. The sheriff has everything under control,” he said.

  We both watched in tense silence as the principal reached the stage. The deputies dressed like civilians closed in, putting the regular citizens behind them out of harm’s way. I searched the crowd for the gang. A few strangers began to appear at the edges.

  “It’s over, Dawson,” I heard Sheriff Bowley say when he reached the principal. “Let her go.”

  The principal turned. There was a strange smile on his face as if he had guessed that we were on his trail. “Give me the Black Rider and I’ll let her go.”

  “Stand back!” someone yelled. A man with shoulder-length hair stepped through the crowd and climbed the back of the platform to the principal’s side. My chest constricted at the sight of the brown hawk tattoo on his shoulder. He pulled a gun from his waist and waved it. Several more gang members joined him on the platform. Deputies and FBI agents trained their weapons on them.

  My blood ran cold. I reached for the starter, but Deputy Addison put his hand over it before I could turn the motorcycle on.

  “Wait,” he warned.

  People screamed and ran, trying to get their families as far away from the weapons as possible.

  The principal raised his voice. “Show yourself, Black Rider, or you little girlfriend’s life is over.” He waved his gun, emphasizing his point.

  The grounds were filled with a chaos of retreating citizens and others intent on reaching the platform where the principal stood. Shouts and cries of fear echoed around the grounds. Principal Dawson lowered his weapon and aimed it at Madelyn.

  I shoved the deputy’s hand away and started the motorcycle. I slammed my visor shut and sped out into the open. Within seconds, I was through the main entrance to the festival and across the grounds.

  Sheriff Bowley’s men who knew me gave way. I sped past several surprised FBI agents recognizable by their city clothes and sunglasses. There were a few people I thought could be from the gang waiting for the drop. They seemed just as shocked to see me. I wondered if Principal Dawson told them I had died in the warehouse.

  I skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust in front of the raised platform usually reserved for country bands and the annual beauty pageant. I doubted it had ever been used for a hostage situation.

  Principal Dawson glared down at me. “Take off your helmet,” he demanded.

  “Let her go,” I replied.

  He shoved the gun harder against her ribs and she winced. “Get off the motorcycle and take off your helmet, Black Rider,” he growle
d in a dangerous tone.

  Madelyn shook her head quickly. “Don’t do it!” she pleaded, tightly gripping the briefcase she held.

  “I love you,” I replied.

  I climbed off the motorcycle, my gaze locked on his.

  I walked to the platform and climbed carefully up the two steps to the top. The principal watched me the whole time with a hardened expression on his face. The gang members around him shifted their guns. Several pointed in my direction.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Sheriff Bowley said from below the platform. “Give it up, Dawson. We can handle this without anyone getting hurt.”

  The principal’s eyes flashed. “Too late, John. The harm’s been done. He’s ruined everything.” He flicked his gun at me. “The helmet. Now,” he barked.

  I unbuckled the latch and pulled my helmet off. I searched the area quickly for anything I could use to defend Madelyn. People stared from the edges of the clearing, their eyes wide as they watched the proceedings. There were five gang members on the platform, along with Principal Dawson and Madelyn. The sheriff’s deputies and Agent Devereaux’s men ringed the stage with their guns trained on Dawson and the others. I was faced with another bloodbath. I wasn’t sure I could fight my way out of this one.

  “Just let her go,” I said quietly. “You have me.” I walked toward him with my hands raised.

  His left eye twitched, something I had never seen during my discussions with him in his office. He stepped forward, leaving Madelyn behind him. He pressed the barrel of the gun against my forehead. My breath caught in my throat at the feeling of the metal against my skin.

  “You took everything from me,” he said. “I had it all, and you had to come and destroy it.”

  “You used Sparrow to produce and sell drugs,” I replied. “You were using students as drug mules to deliver it. What kind of a principal does that? You had nothing.”

  His eyes narrowed. He gritted his teeth. His shoulders moved, warning me before he lifted the gun and slammed it against the side of my head. I staggered backwards.

  I could have blocked it easily. I chose not to at the thought of Madelyn still in the middle of danger holding the principal’s briefcase. I hoped that by acting weak, I could get him to underestimate me.

  I straightened and put a hand to my forehead. My eyebrow was split; the gash dripped blood down my cheek.

  “Someone needs to cut you down to size,” Principal Dawson said. “You don’t own this town.”

  “I love this town,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “Everything I do is out of respect for its citizens.”

  “This is out of respect for its citizens too,” Dawson replied. He put the gun back against my forehead. His finger tightened.

  Time slowed. My grip tightened on my helmet at the same time that I saw Madelyn move behind the principal. She threw the briefcase at his back before any of the gang members could move. I swung the helmet up, catching Dawson’s gun hand and knocking it above my head. His finger jerked on the trigger. It fired into the air. The briefcase hit him and opened. Huge quantities of money spilled out, coating the stage.

  A gang member slammed the butt of a pistol against Madelyn’s head. My heart stopped as she fell. The principal turned. Rage colored his face dark red. He lowered the gun toward Madelyn’s still form. I spun and slammed the helmet into his head. He collapsed to the ground.

  I jumped over the principal and covered Madelyn’s body as gunfire erupted above us, echoing throughout the festival grounds as the agents, deputies, and gang members shot at each other.

  Automatic pistols fired into the crowd. People yelled in pain and fear. I tore off my vest and threw it on top of Madelyn to protect her, and then I jumped up and hit the first gang member I saw.

  He staggered back, holding his jaw. He tried to bring his gun around, but I grabbed his wrist and slammed my arm against his elbow, breaking it. He collapsed to the ground with a yell of agony.

  I backhanded another in the ear. When he turned, I slammed a haymaker against his jaw, causing him to spin all the way around before he fell to the ground.

  I blocked a kick, drove my knee into an attacker’s groin, then slammed a hammer fist into the back of his head when he doubled over. I spun with my elbow out, caught another gang member on the jaw, then followed it with a fist to the same area. He fell motionless to the stage.

  I glanced around. The gang members were down. Everyone was huddled in masses around the grounds. Principal Dawson moaned and struggled to get to his feet, but Agent Devereaux was there before he could make it. The agent shoved him down and fastened handcuffs around his wrists.

  Deputy Addison knelt next to Madelyn. I fell to my knees beside her. Everything dropped away but her still form beneath the bulletproof vest.

  “Are you all right, Maddy?” I asked.

  My heart faltered when she was silent. I set a hand on the vest, not daring to touch her.

  “Madelyn?”

  The sight of her unmoving body sent shards of ice through me.

  “I’ll get help,” Deputy Addison said.

  I moved so I was near Madelyn’s head.

  “Maddy? My Maddy?” I asked, willing her to open her eyes.

  She had a bruise on her forehead where the gun had hit her. I touched it gently, smoothing her hair back. She stirred.

  “Maddy!”

  Her eyes fluttered open. Fear colored their hazel depths.

  “It’s all right, Maddy. You’re safe,” I reassured her. I had to force down the urge to hug her tight and confirm that she was okay. I settled for slipping my hand into hers. “We’ll get you to the hospital. You’re going to be all right.”

  “I think I’m okay.” She struggled to sit up. I helped her lean against me. “What happened?”

  “You tried to take down a drug lord single-handedly,” I told her, fighting back a smile.

  Her eyes widened as she remembered. “Principal Dawson,” she said. Her eyes searched the fairgrounds. I turned with her and spotted Sheriff Bowley and Agent Devereaux walking the principal out of the festival. “Someone hit me,” she said. She reached up to her forehead and winced.

  “You were very brave,” I told her.

  She looked back at me. Her eyes tightened with worry. “Are you all right?” She touched my brow with her fingertips.

  I caught her hand. “I’m fine, now that you’re okay.”

  “Did I worry you?” she asked as though the thought struck her as funny.

  “Very much.”

  She smiled, her bright, beautiful smile. “Now you know how I feel, worrying about you all the time.”

  I chuckled. “Just promise me you’ll think of me the next time you do something so reckless.”

  Her eyes held mine. “I was thinking of you,” she replied softly.

  I kissed her gently on the lips.

  “THANKS FOR TAKING GOOD care of her, Doc,” I told Dr. Carrison. Madelyn’s hand tightened in mine and she smiled at me from her seat beside me on the hospital bed. She had a big bruise on her forehead and a mild concussion, but other than that, she was just fine.

  “Somebody’s got to take care of the girlfriend of our town’s hero,” he replied.

  I grimaced as he pressed Steri-Strips across the gash through my eyebrow. “I may have suspected Martin and your family of drug running,” I admitted. “I’m not sure how heroic that was.”

  He laughed, a full laugh that creased his eyes and forced him to pause in bandaging my wound. “Martin would love to hear about that.”

  “Please don’t tell him,” I pleaded.

  He winked. “Don’t worry, Black Rider. Your secret’s safe with me.”

  I looked at Madelyn. “I don’t have much of a secret anymore. Everyone’s seen my face.”

  The smile she gave me back was soft with understanding. “Perhaps it’s time to take off the helmet,” she said.

  I let out a breath and nodded as Dr. Carrison pressed the last Steri-Strip down.

  I WALKED O
UT OF the hospital room in my Black Rider outfit, but with the helmet held loosely in one hand. Madelyn held my other hand, tired but stoic after the day’s trials. Dr. Carrison followed us. When I glanced back at him, he nodded encouragingly. I took a deep breath and made my way toward the waiting room.

  People crowded every possible space. As soon as we appeared, they surged forward. I was hugged, congratulated, thanked, and was the cause of tears of gratitude. Dr. Carrison kept us informed of the status of the three men and one woman who had been shot during the bust. The woman had a broken leg, but was in recovery along with two of the other men. The last man had taken a bullet in the chest. His ribs were broken, but they had been able to remove the bullet and were keeping him under close surveillance.

  “Now that everyone knows who you are, are you going to ride as the Black Rider anymore?” a little boy asked.

  I smiled at him, realizing he was the boy I had met in the hospital a while back who had been shot in the arm. “Mark, right?”

  His eyes lit up. “You remember me?” he asked in awe.

  “How could I forget someone so brave? What’d your friends think?”

  “That it was awesome I got shot, but even more awesome that we took a picture together,” he replied.

  “Want another one?” I asked.

  He nodded quickly. “I don’t think we have a camera,” his mother said in apology.

  “That’s all right,” I replied. I searched the crowd. “Martin Carrison?”

  He appeared between two thickset farmers. “Yes?” he asked, shoving his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose in surprise at being summoned.

  “Could you take a picture of us?”

  He practically ran over everybody trying to reach us. Mark grinned at the camera. I knelt next to him and gave a thumbs-up. Martin snapped the picture and eyed the photo on the camera’s screen.

  “That’ll look great in the Bulletin,” he said. He looked up quickly as if realizing he had spoken aloud.

  “Go for it,” I told him.