Contents
Title
Copyright
Books by Chelsea M. Campbell
Dedication
FREE BONUS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
About the Author
The Rivalry of Renegade X
By Chelsea M. Campbell
1st edition published by Golden City Publishing, 2020
Copyright 2020 Chelsea M. Campbell
www.chelseamcampbell.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.
Cover art by Alberto Besi.
BOOKS BY CHELSEA M. CAMPBELL
Renegade X
The Rise of Renegade X
The Trials of Renegade X
The Haunting of Renegade X
The Betrayal of Renegade X
The Torment of Renegade X
The Phobia of Renegade X
The Persistence of Renegade X
The Rivalry of Renegade X
Dragonbound
Dragonbound
Honorbound
Fire & Chasm
Starlight
Growing Up Dead
Harper Madigan: Junior High Private Eye
DEDICATION
FOR MY READERS. MAY YOUR INTERDIMENSIONAL TWINS NEVER SHOW YOU UP.
FREE BONUS
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Chapter 1
AS SOON AS I step out of the car, I regret coming here. Here being the Tines 10th Annual Family Barbecue, which we conveniently skipped last year, since Gordon had a secret half-villain son—a.k.a. me—that he didn’t want to have to explain to his extended family. Or maybe he just didn’t want to deal with telling me why I couldn’t come to this thing, not that I would have wanted to, and not that I wanted to this year, either, except that Gordon and Helen seemed way too relieved when they told me about it last week and I said I’d probably have plans.
Like the idea of me coming to an important family event full of douchebags I don’t get along with might be, how you say, uncomfortable for them? And I might have let that go, except that ever since Gordon teamed up with his stupid brother Ted to form their new independent superhero group, the two families have been spending way too much time together. Like, they take turns hosting Sunday dinner every single week, and everybody goes to Nolan and Devon’s sports games to cheer them on or some crap.
Even though Ted’s totally letterist and hates villains and, more importantly, hates me, even though I’m obviously amazing and not the evil delinquent he thinks I am. I mean, I may have occasionally damaged public property or caused a scandal or two, but the evil part is totally off base.
And for some reason, the rest of my family actually enjoys hanging out with him and his douchey family. I like to think that Jess doesn’t and that she’s just along for the ride, what with being three and not having any choice in the matter, but even Alex and Amelia can’t shut up about them. Though Alex did pause in his recounting of one of Nolan’s baseball games to tell me that having lightning and being a half villain is much cooler than hitting a home run, even though he didn’t particularly sound like he believed that, at least not in the moment. I mean, obviously it’s cooler—that was never in question—but apparently the novelty of living with someone who could, say, blast our stupid cousins to smithereens before they even knew what was happening pales in comparison to hitting a ball with a stick.
Anyway, the point is, I didn’t need his pity. And as much as I really didn’t want to come to this thing, I couldn’t let the rest of my family get away with coming here, bonding even more with Ted’s family, and feeling like they had a better time because I stayed home. I’ll probably die before I eat Sunday dinner with these people, but I draw the line at missing out on the Tines Family Annual Barbecue. Apparently.
Even though, as Amelia pointed out in the car, I’m not actually a “Tines.” Even if I happen to be just as related to all these idiots as she is.
The barbecue’s taking place at a park across town. You know, so it’s too far for me to just walk back home when I get bored or really, really want to zap someone. The park itself is nice, with lots of green grass, picnic tables, and grills for people to use. Unfortunately, on account of today’s event, it’s also douchebags as far as the eye can see. Which isn’t super far, because there are a bunch of trees blocking the rest of the park from view, but still.
“Are you going to be okay?” Gordon asks me as the rest of the family literally runs off into the park to greet their stupid relatives. Well, literally except for Helen, who doesn’t exactly do a lot of running, on account of her limp, and except for Jess, who’s in Helen’s arms and thus unable to go anywhere on her own. Though she is telling her, in a very demanding voice, that she needs to go faster.
“This is a family barbecue. I’m part of the family. Right?”
“Of course, Damien, but—”
“I’ll be fine.” Mostly because, unlike at the Christmas party, I actually have my phone this time.
Gordon frowns a little, obviously unsure about that. “Okay, but if you change your mind or you need anything, you know where—”
“Gordon!” His younger brother Howard suddenly slaps him on the back, totally interrupting our conversation. “You made it. Come on—I’m dying to show you the new barbecue I got. We brought it with us, in the truck. You’ll never believe the features on this thing.”
He says all that like I’m not even here. Like I’m some random person who just happens to be standing nearby instead of his—ugh, I hate to even say it—nephew and as if I wasn’t obviously talking to my dad before he came over. And there are already plenty of barbecues here at the park. And even though they’re just basic grills on posts stuck in the ground, did he really need to bring his own?
But Gordon’s eyes are lighting up at the idea of seeing this special barbecue. He glances over at me real quick and says, “Let me know if you need anything. And…” He glances over at Howard, to make sure he’s not watching, which of course he is, and then mouths, Behave.
I roll my eyes at him. What does he think I’m going to do? Actually speak to anyone at this thing? I just need them all to see that I’m here, that I’m not going to stay away just because my presence makes them uncomfortable—well, especially because of that—and then maybe I can call Kat and get out of here. I’d call Riley, but he’s at work today, plus somehow I think getting picked up by my supervillain girlfriend will leave more of an impact.
I sit down on top of an empty picnic table, putting my feet on the bench part, and take out my phone. Me and Zach have been texting ea
ch other all week, pretending we’re living in a post-apocalyptic zombie world.
I write, Surrounded by zombies. Very little cover. Have a mysterious scratch on my arm that may or may not mean my doom.
It only takes, like, two seconds for him to write back. OMG! You’re on the FRONT PAGE!
I sigh and roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. We have more important things to talk about. I just told you I might be infected with zombie virus.
Behind me, I hear Amelia talking to Ted’s kids, Nolan and Devon. Nolan’s a year younger than me and will be starting at Heroesworth this fall—something his family is “so, so proud of” and won’t shut up about, as if he had to actually do anything to get in—and Devon’s fourteen, meaning that our school careers will, thankfully, never overlap. Unless I, like, flunk senior year several times in a row, but I don’t see that happening. Plus, even if it did, at that point I’d probably just drop out.
Did you see it?! Zach writes.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. There are no newspapers here. Not since “the problem” started two years ago and everyone turned into flesh-eating monsters.
This is serious! Did you see it or not?
Of course I saw it, I write back, since he’s apparently too excited about my exploits making front-page news to play along. Though at least this time it was actually for something good, since we saved that puppy, though you wouldn’t know that from the headline: Son of Flash Helps Infamous Villain. You also wouldn’t know from the headline that it wasn’t just me who was involved in this, but our whole group, meaning me, Riley, Sarah, and Kat.
I consider my thoughts on it, then write, Did Riley see it? I mean, I’m sure he did, unless he’d already left for work before Zach got a copy.
There’s a long silence that I try not to read too much into.
“We’re just so proud of you,” someone says behind me, and I know instantly that she’s talking to Nolan. It’s, like, everyone’s favorite thing to say to him, for one thing, but especially today. Because not only did he get into Heroesworth next year, but yesterday there was some big announcement that he received an award from the city for his “brilliance in superheroing.” Even though I happen to know he’s never been on a superhero mission in his life. He got it for getting a group of superhero teens together and having them clean up Golden City Park. And it wasn’t even the whole park, just, like, shining up the statues in the Heroes Walk and picking up any bits of litter near them.
They conveniently ignored all the other parts of the park, including the rubber dog bone that I know happens to be floating in the pond that, um, someone might have been trying to throw for his friend’s Great Dane, but then said Great Dane might have jumped on him at a crucial moment, and the dog toy might have gone sailing into the pond. I mean, me and Sarah would have fished it out, except it kept floating out of our reach. And Heraldo would have gone in to get it, except he got distracted by a squirrel and we had to chase after him. And also, that dog toy isn’t the only thing in the pond that doesn’t belong there—there are plenty of candy-bar wrappers and water bottles—and Sarah wasn’t sure she wanted him going in there, anyway, especially not after that time he jumped in and came back all muddy and gross.
But anyway, my point is, if anyone’s going to get an award for cleaning up the park, it shouldn’t be a bunch of douchebags who only cleaned up the easy part that also happened to get them the most publicity, all so they could pat themselves on the back for it and call themselves heroes. And since Nolan organized the whole thing, he’s the one who got the award. Which is just a certificate that the city’s sending him in the mail. But you’d think he’d been given the key to Golden City, the way everyone keeps going on about it.
“Thanks, Aunt Nancy,” Nolan says. “I was just doing what I thought was right.”
“You’re such a good kid. I know Ted and Martha are just bursting, they’re so proud of you.”
And cousin Damien’s nearly barfing, he’s so disgusted by all of this. She forgot that part.
Nancy wanders off, and then Amelia says to Nolan, “You should have texted me. I would have helped.”
“I did. You said you were making a video.”
“Well… That was really important. But you should still text me next time. And congrats on your award. It’s super cool that the city gave that to you. You’ll be starting at Heroesworth with, like, an edge.”
Ugh. I attempt to tune them out and text Zach again. Come on, Zach. I KNOW he saw it.
There’s still a pause, and then he writes, Sorry! Mom was asking me something. And yeah, he saw it. He spilled milk on it at breakfast and I had to make Mom take me to the store to get a new copy. I got three this time, just in case.
And?
You should ask him about it, not me.
Great. So, not a fan then. Not like that’s exactly a surprise. It’s pretty much what I expected.
“You know,” Amelia says, still talking to Nolan and Devon, “the city’s probably going to acknowledge me pretty soon for my work to spread awareness.”
“Your what?” Devon asks, sounding really confused.
“Uh, my dance videos? For Team Glitter?” Amelia says that like they should know all about them. Which I guess they should, since she’s only been inserting them into the conversation every chance she gets for the past few weeks.
“Awareness of what?” Nolan asks her.
“Of all the big issues. Each video has a theme. We’re not just dancing—we’re changing the world. And our latest video already has twelve likes, and we just posted it last week.”
“That’s great,” Nolan says. Then, more loudly and aimed in my direction, “At least you’ve got your priorities straight. At least you’re not helping villains.”
I could zap him from here, probably without even looking. But instead I ignore him and text Zach again. If you’re done freaking out over my accomplishments, can we get back to the apocalypse?
Only if you get that scratch checked out. I can’t be texting with a potential zombie. Not when I’ve just discovered this old convenience store that mysteriously hasn’t been broken into over the past two years of raiding and looting. But it’s probably safe, right?
I think the scratch was a false alarm. And that convenience store sounds fishy as hell. You should totally go for it.
Nolan moves into view in front of me, followed by Devon and Amelia, though Nolan’s the only one giving me this self-righteous look, like he’s so much better than me. “Don’t pretend you can’t hear me. We all saw the paper today.”
My eyes flick up from my phone, giving him the barest of glances. “You’re just jealous that all you have is a piece of paper while my group is out there saving lives.”
He scoffs and takes a drink of pop from the cup he’s holding. “The life of a puppy.”
I look him in the eyes this time. “We still saved it. And it was a really cute puppy. Not that we discriminate when it comes to saving baby animals.”
“That’s pretty clear, since it ‘just happened’ to belong to some famous villain.”
“And it wasn’t really that cute,” Devon adds, though I think he says that just to have something to contribute, since it obviously was that cute.
I shrug, because, yeah, it did turn out to be some famous villain’s puppy—the Night Mask’s, to be exact—but we would have saved it either way. People are acting like we saved the villain himself, which we also would have done, if he’d been the one who’d gotten off his leash and was standing in the middle of the street when a car was coming. I mean, he wasn’t, obviously, but that’s beside the point.
“You knew it belonged to a villain,” Nolan says, sounding both accusing and annoyed that he has to explain this to me. “You were sucking up to him. Because that’s what you’re really about—helping villains.”
“We help whoever needs help. We don’t check their thumbs first.” And is he seriously saying we should have let a helpless puppy get run over just bec
ause it belonged to a villain? A villain who was really, really worried about it and super happy to have it back?
“Whatever,” Nolan mutters. “It’s not like you’re a real superhero. So I guess no one should be surprised when you don’t do real superhero work.”
Because picking up a few pieces of litter to make yourself look good makes you a real superhero. I don’t know what his problem is. And I’d like nothing more than to shut him up by zapping him, but I’m guessing that wouldn’t go over very well with the whole family-barbecue crowd. And I’m not getting kicked out of this thing, because that would mean everyone who doesn’t want me here would get to think they’re right about me, which they most certainly are not.
Then Amelia suddenly squeals at something on her phone. “Oh, my God, you guys! Hil just texted me. We got another like on our dance video!”
Nolan and Devon share an eye roll while Amelia’s still too glued to her phone to notice. I glare at them, but they either don’t see or don’t care.
Then Helen calls out to Amelia, saying she forgot something at home and needs her to use her power to get it for her, and Amelia takes off, screaming, “Mom! Mom! We got another like!”
Devon breathes a sigh of relief as soon as she’s gone. “I thought she was going to make us watch it again.”
Nolan scoffs and says, “I can’t believe she tried to compare her videos to my award. Like they’re even remotely on the same level. I don’t even know why she goes to Heroesworth.”
And then he lifts his cup to take another drink of pop, and I reach out and tip it up so that its contents spill all over him.
Chapter 2
“DID YOU OR DID you not attack my son?” Ted asks, his voice seething, like he can barely keep it together.
I ignore him and look at Gordon and Helen. “I spilled pop on him. It wasn’t exactly an attack.”
Ted practically gasps in shock at that, like I just admitted to beating up his kid or something. His kid who couldn’t even bother to be here for this “discussion,” since he was too busy letting his mommy lead him over to the car to get changed. But not before flipping out about this and blowing everything way out of proportion.
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