Wanted: A Superhero to Save the World

by Bryan Davis

  I gave it a casual glance. “What about it?”

  “If it works, I’ll talk Mephisto into accepting it instead of the money. In the long run, being a superhero is worth more than a billion dollars. Even ten billion dollars.”

  “What makes you think it can make someone a superhero?”

  “Mephisto saw through your pretense back in the Dead Zone. He figured out that your sister neutralized the muggers.”

  “What?” I set a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Look at her. Do you seriously think she could do that? And if my invention really could do what you say, all three of us would be superheroes, and you and your ugly partner would be nothing but a steaming pile of torn flesh and broken bones.”

  “I know what I saw. It just means your invention wears off after a while.” He waved the gun. “Test it on me.”

  After glaring at him for a moment, I let out a sigh. “I guess I have no choice.” I climbed to my feet and helped Mom and Sam get up. As I steadied Sam, I whispered, “Make sure the light hits you.”

  She gave no answer or nod. Either she didn’t understand, or she knew exactly what to do and didn’t let on.

  I walked to the workstation and aimed my invention at Graham. “You’d better get a little closer.”

  He stepped over and stood directly in front of the lens. Mom and Sam waited off to the side, out of range. If Sam really knew what to do, she needed a countdown.

  With my finger on the switch, I said, “I’ll power it up on the count of three. One … two … three.”

  I flipped the switch. Sam crept over to Graham and crouched at his side. The ray washed over them, turning them both ghostly white. When the light blinked off, Sam sneaked back into Mom’s arms.

  Graham patted his torso. “I think it worked. I feel something.”

  I looked at Sam. If she felt anything, she wasn’t showing it. Smart girl, as usual. Gilbert said the strengthening process would be slowed, so I had to be patient and wait for the perfect time to flip the earthquake switch.

  As I reached into my pocket and grasped the remote, Graham extended a hand toward Lamar. “Shake.”

  When he complied, Graham’s arm flexed. Lamar’s face tightened more and more until he let out a groan and jerked away. “You nearly crushed my bones.”

  Graham smiled. “It seems to be working.”

  “Now are you going to tell Mephisto to stop the earthquake?” I asked.

  “Perhaps, but I think he’ll want to kill Damocles first. What good is it to have super powers if a superhero is out there who can stop him?”

  “So you’re planning to hold us here. Use us as bait to lure Damocles.”

  “Not me. Mephisto.”

  I poised my thumb on the earthquake button. It would be best to keep delaying until Sam showed some sign of super strength. I needed her help. “I’m not an idiot. You’re Mephisto, and we all know it.”

  He laughed in the most unfunny way possible. “Very well. Now that I have what I want, I’ll stop pretending. But you can’t do anything about it. You can call me Mephisto, for all a name’s worth.”

  I glared at him again. “All right, Mephisto. How are you going to let Damocles know we’re here?”

  “With a message in the sky, of course. It’s worked quite well so far.” Mephisto turned to Lamar. “Wait here. I’ll get Dr. Godwin so we’ll have them all in one place. Now that I have this invention, I won’t need him anymore.”

  Lamar opened and closed his wounded hand. “But what if the little girl goes superhero on me? I saw her get zapped with you. Maybe I could beat her, but no use risking anything.”

  “Then we’ll test our special handcuffs on her.” He waved the gun toward the door. “You bring the cuffs and Dr. Godwin, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause trouble.”

  “Back in a minute.” Lamar strode from the room and closed the door.

  Mephisto flexed both biceps. “Yes, I’m getting stronger and stronger. Your invention will make me the richest man in the world.”

  I cast a stealthy glance at Sam’s arms. They had grown slightly but not nearly as big as before. She could never take on Mephisto in a fight.

  Less than a minute later, Lamar entered holding a set of handcuffs while pushing Gilbert in front. A black eye marred Gilbert’s face, and his arm hung loosely at his side. Feathers clung to his sleeves, and his wings were nowhere in sight.

  Mephisto nodded toward Sam. “Set the cuffs on medium shock and put them on her. When you close them, they’ll activate in half a second, so let go immediately. Then she’ll be in too much pain to be a superhero.”

  Chapter 21

  Sometimes You Really Need an Earthquake

  Lamar shoved Gilbert to my side and crouched in front of Sam. While he adjusted a tiny dial on the cuffs, my throat tightened. I couldn’t let them shock my sister. But could I stop him by myself, even with an earthquake distraction?

  Mom sidled up to me and stealthily withdrew my knife from its sheath on my belt. I could barely withhold a grin. She was ready to fight with me. Now to shake things up.

  I flipped the earthquake switch. The ground shook hard. Everyone teetered and waved their arms to keep from falling. I leaped to Mephisto and snatched the gun away. Sam punched Lamar in the nose and sent him toppling backwards. His head crashed into a wall and cracked the plaster. Mom lunged and jabbed his forearm with the knife, making him drop the cuffs.

  Trying to keep my arm steady in the rocking room, I aimed the gun at Mephisto as he braced himself against the door. “Don’t move!” I shouted.

  He raised his hands above his head. “I surrender. Just stop the quake.”

  I reached into my pocket and flipped the switch. The room settled, though big cracks ran down every wall, and the door hung by only one hinge.

  “So what now?” Mephisto asked, his hands still raised. “If you shoot me, you won’t be able to stop the Nirvana earthquake. It’s on a timer and will trigger on its own.”

  “I have an idea.” I handed Mom the gun. “Watch him for me.”

  While she aimed the gun at him, I picked up the cuffs, turned the dial to maximum shock, and walked toward him with the cuffs extended.

  Mephisto ripped the door from its hinge and threw it at Mom. She fired and hit his shoulder. The door slammed into her head and knocked her sideways, but Gilbert caught her with his good arm, keeping her from falling.

  Bleeding from his shoulder, Mephisto staggered back, collided with the wall, and slid down to his bottom, stunned.

  “Sam, help me cuff him!” I lunged and grabbed his wrist. He shook his arm to throw me off, but I held on like a pit bull. While I battled to put a cuff on his wrist, Sam clawed at his face, digging deep gouges.

  I snapped one cuff closed and reached for his other arm. His free hand curled into a fist and punched me in the nose. I flew away and landed on my back.

  Recoiling at the sudden move, Mephisto grimaced and reached for his wounded shoulder. Sam leaped at the chance and wrestled the other cuff onto his wrist, snapped it closed, and jumped to the side.

  Electrical arcs raced across the cuffs. Mephisto closed his eyes in a tight grimace and moaned as he leaned his head against the wall. Still bleeding from the bullet wound and Sam’s deep claw marks, he looked like he wouldn’t give us any trouble.

  Trying to catch my breath, I scanned the room. Mom sat on the floor, propped by Gilbert’s hand on her back. Awake but woozy, she smiled and whispered, “Good job, son.”

  “Indeed,” Gilbert said. “You and your sister are amazing. You’re astounding. You’re …”

  “Astonishing?” Sam offered.

  He nodded. “Affirmative.”

  Lamar let out a moan, though his eyes remained closed. Our time was running out.

  I spoke to Mephisto with a commanding tone. “Tell me how to stop the earthquake.”

&n
bsp; Gritting his teeth, he spat his words in pain-filled spurts. “Get lost. … These cuffs … will run out … of power eventually. … Then I’ll kill you all.”

  I eyed the cuffs. Setting them at maximum was necessary, but no battery could keep that kind of charge going for long. “We’d better get out of here.”

  “But how do we cross the swamp?” Mom asked.

  “Mephisto has a swamp tank. Two people can ride in that, but two others will have to find another way.”

  Gilbert raised a finger. “As I mentioned earlier, I have spare sets of wings. Two of us can fly while the other two ride in the tank.”

  I nodded. “Get them, and let’s go.”

  While the electrified cuffs continued shocking Mephisto, Sam pulled Mom to her feet, and Gilbert collected two sets of wings from a closet. I carried one, Sam carried the other, and Mom hauled my superhero device in her backpack.

  After tying Lamar’s wrists with a computer power cord, we walked out as fast as we could, hoping for the best.

  When we reached the front door, Sam tugged on Gilbert’s sleeve. “Have you seen a cat around here?”

  He shook his head. “Neither hide nor hair nor haunches of any feline.”

  Sam cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Prince Edward Thomas Oscar Stephen Horsey O’Ryan. Come here, kitty.”

  I grasped Sam’s wrist. “We don’t have time. He’s probably —”

  “There he is.” The gray tabby scampered across the room and leaped into Sam’s arms.

  With the cat in tow, we hurried on. When we arrived at the swamp, we found the tank sitting at the edge with the hatch open.

  “So who flies and who rides?” I asked as I gave the remote locator back to Gilbert.

  Gilbert slid the locator into his pocket. “You and Sam should fly, of course.”

  “Maybe you’d better fly with her. She’s strong enough, but I’ve never done it before. I can drive the swamp tank.”

  Gilbert rubbed his shoulder. “When that Lamar fellow ripped my wings from my arm, he wrenched my shoulder. I can barely move it at all. And surely your mother is in no shape to fly.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” I narrowed my eyes at the swamp. “You said the distance you just flew was your record. How far did you fly?”

  “Oh, I suppose about two hundred feet.”

  “And how far is it to the other side?”

  “Perhaps six hundred.”

  “Six hundred? That’s triple your record.”

  “True, but you are vigorous. You’re vivacious. You’re vital. And Sam is … well … she’s Super Sam.”

  “Maybe we can ride on top of the tank.”

  Gilbert shook his head. “The swamp’s too deep. You would submerge and have to swim through snakes, scorpions, and spiders. All quite venomous.”

  I gave him a resigned nod. “So I’ll fly … I hope.”

  After Gilbert gave us quick verbal lessons on how to operate the wings, I stared at the swamp’s maze of cypress trees. Spider webs spanned the gaps between nearly all of them, each with a huge hairy spider lurking in the strands. “It’ll be like a fly trying to get past an army of hungry frogs.”

  “True, my young friend. Just try to stay ahead of us. If we see you fall in, we’ll stop and try to help somehow, that is, if the snakes, scorpions, and spiders don’t get you first.”

  I cringed. “Thanks a lot.”

  Gilbert pointed toward the swamp. “Be sure to stay above the electric eyes when you fly past those two central trees. Otherwise, a door at the bottom will spring open, and our underwater crossing will end in a hurry.”

  I scanned the swamp to the left and right of the booby-trapped trees. Other trees grew tall and dense all around. Flying between the two central trees was our only option, though a thick spider web ran across the gap. “We’ll make it somehow.”

  After Sam passed Prince Edward to Mom, she and Gilbert climbed into the tank and closed the hatch. Sam leaped on top and launched into the air. Flapping her wings, she flew in a clumsy up-and-down path over the swamp, but with powerful arms and a light body, she stayed aloft without a problem.

  I clambered up and beat my wings as hard as I could. At first, nothing happened, but after a few seconds, my feet lifted off. I angled my body and flew above the swamp, but every time I raised my arms to flap, I plunged. Then when I dropped close to the scummy water, I thrust my wings downward and rose again just in time.

  With each repetition, I dropped closer to the swamp. At this rate, I would face plant in the snake-and-scorpion-and-spider-infested soup long before I could reach the other side.

  I looked back. The swamp tank rolled into the water and disappeared below the surface, hidden by the murky liquid, though bubbles on the surface gave away its presence.

  Ahead, Sam circled back toward me, calling out, “Need help, Eddie?”

  “Not yet.” I again dipped low, this time skimming the water with my shoes before rising once more. Straining to get higher, I grunted, “But stay close, just in case.”

  We flew side by side, dipping and rising. As we drew nearer to the two trees, I timed my rises and falls. I had to dive right before I reached the electronic eyes, lift over the invisible laser shooting from one to the other, and knife through a narrow gap between the bottom of the spider web and the laser line. Getting through the gap with flapping wings would be tricky. Or maybe impossible.

  Shots rang out to the rear. A bullet whizzed past my left wing. Another plunked into the water below. I shouted, “Faster!”

  A bullet slammed into the tree on the right. Scorpions swarmed down the trunk and crawled onto the water, staying afloat on the scum. A snake dropped from a limb and swam across the swamp just below our path.

  As more shots fired and bullets zinged past, I dropped low with the wings’ upstroke, then whipped them down to get over the laser, but my legs hit the water. As I rose, something crawled up my ankle and stung it.

  Pain surged. My wings sagged. I dropped for a split second before flapping again, but I passed directly between the electronic eyes, though I missed the web. Sam crashed right into the sticky strands and flew on, silk plastered across her face.

  Below, the water sank. A flushing sound gurgled. As I continued rising, I looked back. In the draining swamp, the tank appeared, stuck in the open trapdoor. Since it couldn’t close because of the huge machine, water, scorpions, and snakes streamed into the hole.

  At the swamp’s edge, Graham and Lamar each aimed a gun our way. Fortunately, our erratic flights made them miss, but the water was receding quickly. Soon they would be able to move closer and get a better shot.

  The tank gunned its engine and rocked back and forth, but it couldn’t lift from the hole.

  “Sam,” I shouted, nearly exhausted. “Can you help Mom and Gilbert?”

  Her face covered with spider silk, she reversed course. “But my arms are in my wings.”

  “Just use your head. You’ll think of something.”

  “I’ll try.” With bullets still zipping past, she flew into the hole. Seconds later, the tank surged out and drove onward. Sam appeared behind it, pushing with her head while flapping.

  I landed on the top of the tank and shed my wings. While standing on them, I reached down, grabbed Sam’s shoulders, and hauled her up. When I settled her on top of the tank, I ripped some of the webbing from her face. “Now that’s using your head.”

  Another bullet zinged by. We crouched low. Graham and Lamar trudged into the drained swamp, shooting less frequently as they labored through the muck.

  Graham surged ahead, his supercharged legs pushing through the quagmire, but when he drew near the closed trapdoor, he stopped. His eyes shot wide open. Between us and him, five snakes slithered his way.

  As he backed up, he shook a fist and shouted, “Go ahead, fools. You can’t st
op the earthquake without me. When you fail, tell Damocles to meet me at the remains of the Stellar, and bring the superhero generator. Or else.” He turned and hurried to the swamp’s edge, Lamar at his side.

  Sam made a razzing noise with her lips. “He’s a turnip head.”

  “A turnip head?” I sat and pulled up my pant leg. Although the scorpion was gone, a swollen welt on my ankle hurt like crazy. “What’s a turnip head?”

  Sam withdrew an arm from a wing and pulled more web strands away from her face. “They’re bad guys on the Princess Queenie show. The henchmen for Onion Man.”

  I smirked. “So I guess they’re garden-variety villains. We shouldn’t root for them.”

  “What? I don’t get it.”

  “Never mind.” I turned and focused ahead. The swamp’s edge drew near. Soon, the tank rolled out of the muck and up to dry land, close to where we had left Mom’s bike and Sam’s wheelchair.

  I scanned the sky toward Nirvana. The hologram timer had vanished, replaced by a message of some kind, too far away to read. I checked my watch — 2:04 p.m. Just under two hours till the quake. We had to hurry.

  Leaving the bike, wheelchair, and wings behind, we rolled on. When we drew close to the city limits, hundreds of people streamed in from the highways on foot, on bikes, and in carts. But why?

  I looked at the sky. Now the message was readable — Earthquake Stopped by Damocles. Return to Your Homes. All is Well.

  I gulped. Mephisto did that to lure people back to the city. He wanted to kill as many as possible and pin the blame on Damocles. He knew I would tell Damocles to come to the Stellar building with my invention. He planned to kill Damocles there and become an omnipotent supervillain.

  And I had to stop him. Of course, Damocles was already dead, but I had to keep him alive in the hearts of the people of Nirvana. No one else could do it.

  Again we weaved through the crowds and wrecked vehicles, but this time the people weren’t so rushed and pushy. Lots of eyes turned our way, and no wonder. It’s not every day you see two kids riding through town on a miniature tank.

  I thought about warning people to reverse course, but who would believe our crazy story? I couldn’t contradict the message in the sky without better evidence that it wasn’t true.