by C. C. Ekeke
“J-Hova?” Simon furrowed his brow. “Kinda sacrilegious, no?”
Hugo shrugged. “Jay Z called himself the god of rap. By the way…” He glanced around, then leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ve picked my codename.”
“Really?” Simon braked so abruptly several freshmen girls almost plowed into him from behind. He ignored their infuriated swearwords as they weaved around him. “What is it?”
“Once the suit’s ready.” Hugo winked. He and Simon continued bantering as Paso High’s brick buildings loomed, the sun continuing its morning climb.
When Hugo and Simon entered, all arriving students were greeted with an announcement on the speaker system. “Freshmen and sophomores. Report to the auditorium.”
Hugo exchanged a concerned glance with Simon and followed the throngs of classmen.
Taylor von Stratton fell in step with them, irked. She looked cute when irked. “What’s this about?”
Hugo shrugged. “No clue.” Once in the auditorium, he grasped that this was serious.
Principal Winston stood onstage flanked by two stone-faced policemen. A few other teachers sat onstage nearby wearing solemn expressions. Mr. Beachum, lean and wiry, leveled a withering glare on Hugo. The assistant basketball coach still remained suspicious since Fall Fling.
Hugo looked away and quickened his stride toward some empty seats.
Once the students were seated, Principal Winston got to the point. “Kevin Coleman, McKenna Phillips, Kerry Winston, and Carlo Berroya are all missing.”
Shock flooded the auditorium. Hugo swallowed hard. Simon was baffled. On his other side, Taylor gripped Hugo's arm fearfully. A wave of guilt washed over Hugo. He’d planned to search for Kevin until his identity crisis had happened. Now more kids were missing.
“Do not to panic. We’re working with the authorities to find your classmates,” Principal Winston spoke over the roil of emotion. Despite his stoic veneer, the principal was understandably tired. “We called this assembly to address the situation directly. Pair with at least one student whenever you go to and from campus. Especially at night.”
“I’ll pair with my Songs girls,” Taylor replied as Hugo turned to ask. She kissed his cheek, then his lips. “Don’t worry.”
Walker concluded his speech. “Please report anything suspicious to myself or your teachers. Any questions, I’m always available.” A smile lit up his weathered features. “Because I’m your princi-PAL.”
Hugo rolled his eyes. Audible groans filled the auditorium.
Mrs. DeWitt, sitting onstage, facepalmed. “Good God!” she groused under her breath.
The Principal was amused by his own wit. “You can return to class.”
“You know what’s not being said?” Simon muttered as they left the auditorium. “Another bombing.”
Hugo whipped his head around at him. “What?”
“Some San Miguel High freshman.” Simon somberly adjusted the headphones around his neck. They crossed the quad to their respective first periods. “Walked into a Cambria winery this morning. Ka-BOOM.” He spread both hands out for emphasis. “Killed nine employees.”
“Three bombings in three weeks,” Hugo surmised, which unsettled him more. “These have to be connected to the kidnappings. Whoever's behind this must be escalating.”
Simon rubbed his hands together. “We should, too.”
“No doubt.” Hugo agreed, starting with this case. “I’ll search for the missing kids during lunch—” He paused. Familiar footsteps approached him and Simon. Wale and Grace flanked by Brent, Raphael, the Stanleys, JT, and Groban.
“Everyone’s pairing up,” Wale declared without preamble. “Let’s choose now.”
Hugo scanned his friends, quickly devising pairings. “Alright,” he interrupted, to Wale’s annoyance. “JT and Groban. You’re with the twins.” Hugo looked to Simon. “Go with Wale. Raph, you got G-Mama. Brent…” He waved the lanky blond over. “Pair with Jodie. Don’t take no for an answer.”
Brent was thrilled. “On it!” He practically skipped away.
“What about you?” Grace asked as Hugo turned to leave for French class.
He cringed. They noticed. “What about me?”
“Uh-uh.” Raphael grabbed his shoulder. Hugo allowed himself to be dragged back. Otherwise, he’d have dragged Raphael along like a blanket.
Wale folded his arms angrily. “Pair with someone.” The rest of the group, except Simon, agreed. Between meeting with Ms. Ortiz after school and searching for the missing students, Hugo couldn't afford a tagalong. “I’ll go straight home and won’t leave until the morning.” A lie, but a necessary one.
The others didn’t buy this, growing angry. “You have to pair up, Bogie,” Grace decided.
The dogpile struck a nerve. “Or what?” Hugo snapped. “You’ll unanimously make me?”
Grace flinched. The others gaped. The Stanleys gasped. “That’s not fair,” Grace retorted.
Hugo opened his mouth to really piss everyone off. Then he could search unhindered. Until Simon caught his eye. “Play along,” his friend mouthed.
Hugo sighed, realizing how suspicious this appeared. “Raph. Pair with Simon and Wale. I’m with Grace. Text me after your last class.”
“Bogie—” Wale began.
“Thank you.” Hugo abruptly departed.
The day slogged by, the missing students and the Cambria bombing dominating school gossip. After school, Hugo sat in the passenger seat as Grace drove him home. Neither spoke the whole car ride. Hugo avoided the tension by mulling over where to start searching. He didn’t know Kerry or Carlo. Hugo knew McKenna Phillips by reputation. Junior class president, Cheers team co-captain, Lionel Wagner’s girlfriend, one of the prettiest and most popular girls in Paso High. Hugo decided to start with Kevin, who was an acquaintance. The car slowing drew Hugo back to the present.
Grace parked outside his house. “We’re here.” She clutched the wheel, glaring ahead.
The sight broke through Hugo’s resentment. This rift was his to fix. “Sorry about earlier,” Hugo began softly. “And missing practice.”
Grace glowered a few moments before her anger vanished. “I’m sorry, too.” She adjusted her flannel cap. “I want you competing with us. But the Phenoms need to know you'll be there.”
“Understood.” Hugo accepted this. He’d been the asshole. “If given a second chance, I’ll do better.” Hugo regretted those words as soon as he said them. Leaving the Fab Phenoms altogether might be a necessity when he started superheroing. If not, staying on wouldn’t be fair to his friends. But that decision had to wait, until he found these missing students.
Grace’s smile could brighten the heavens. She pulled Hugo into a hug. “Can I ask you something?” She asked after drawing back.
Hugo arched an eyebrow. “Depends.”
“What’s with Simon?” she demanded. “Things have been uber awkward for weeks.”
Hugo chuckled in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Like Boston sports fans.”
“Simon’s crazy about you,” Hugo admitted.
Grace blushed. “Him kissing me at my house was a clue.”
Hugo hesitated about speaking for Simon. But this would benefit him. “He’s protecting himself from getting hurt.” Hugo reached out, guiding Grace’s chin to him. “Do you like him?”
“As a friend…” Grace shrugged. Seeing her so uncomfortable was odd. “…maybe more?”
Hugo was lost. “Then what the heck?”
“Simon didn’t shoot his shot at Fall Fling.” Grace looked annoyed by the grilling. “I thought he was either scared or not interested. So, I started seeing someone. That’s why I turned him down.”
“Yeah, you and Raphael.” Hugo replied so frankly, Grace jumped in her seat.
“Nobody knows that! How do you know that?” Her eyes tightened. “Does Simon know that?”
“I’m observant and haven’t told anyone,” Hugo stated, calming Grace significantly. He’d seen
her and Raphael making out at a Halloween party a few months ago. Hypersensitivity had perks…and drawbacks. “You two still together?”
Grace stared at her hands, seemingly fascinated. “Raphael was hella fun and made me laugh, but things ran their course in a month. And he calls himself Dark Kent too much.”
Hugo stared at her. “What’s your nickname?”
“G-Mama, The Number One Stunnah,” Grace answered as if the query was stupid.
Hugo shook with amusement. “Yeah…” He pondered his next words, knowing their impact. “You want Simon? Go get him. But don’t do it just to fix your friendship. You both deserve better.”
“Wise words, sensei.” Grace flashed a smile. “You’re kinda the cutest. And the coolest.”
After another longer hug, Hugo exited the car. Once Grace drove off, he headed for his backyard, away from prying eyes. Then Hugo zoomed off for Ms. Ortiz’s costume shop.
Since Ms. Ortiz and her designers already had his measurements, they just needed notes on the costume’s look. “Keep the mask, but make the main colors black and purple to blend with shadows better.” Putting his stamp on his suit felt beyond empowering. This new identity would truly be his. Hugo scanned various costumes on display around him. Missy Magnificent’s glittery obsidian onesie caught his eye. Too showy, but not without positives. He turned to Ms. Ortiz. “Add a hood.”
After departing the costume shop, Hugo scoured Kevin Coleman’s social media accounts via phone for hangout spots. He struck gold shifting through photos of skateparks that Kevin frequented, specifically one in Morro Bay.
According to a few skaters, Kevin hadn’t been seen in days. One pale, dreadlocked guy directed Hugo to Kevin’s favorite spot after skating. A Fruit Gotta Have It stand at The Oldtown Farmer’s Market.
Minutes later, he arrived in Oldtown San Miguel. On Main Street, every Thursday, a farmer’s market ran from six to nine PM, originally held in San Luis Obispo before the 1987 earthquake. Hugo navigated through throngs of people and vendor stands on both sides, walling everyone in. Hugo swiped some free peach slices, eating them.
“Now what?” He amplified his hearing while searching for the Fruit Gotta Have It stand. Several fruit vendors were present, all smelling sweet and fresh. Hugo cursed himself for not thinking this detective shit through. As he pulled out his cell to check a farmer’s market map, ragged breathing noises reached him through the chatter. There was a wild animal behind some shops to Hugo’s right.
Curious, he wedged through the burrito bowl and energy crystals stands. Hugo found an alleyway between two shops and zipped through.
He stepped into an empty lot as most shopkeepers closed early on farmer’s market day. Hugo whipped around, and his jaw dropped.
Several feet away crouched the largest feline he’d ever seen, long and leonine with supple muscle. Its tawny fur was covered with red stripes. The beast, on its hind legs, strapped a vest to a motionless boy.
Hugo knew him. “Kevin!” Suddenly he was moving toward this beast, despite wearing only civilian clothes. He only cared about rescuing Kevin and protecting farmer’s market customers.
The liger reared up, glowering with deep-yellow eyes. It growled, baring teeth. Hugo accelerated and yanked Kevin away.
And a vicious paw swiped Hugo across the jaw like a speeding truck, rattling his skull. Suddenly he was airborne and flailing. Then dark pavement rushed up to smack his face.
Hugo shook off the blow, more dazed than hurt. He popped up as the liger stalked toward Kevin to finish snapping on the vest.
Hugo gaped at the vest’s digital clock.
“Not happening.” Hugo charged at the liger, sinking a hard shoulder into its back.
And the beast got launched into the air, thrashing wildly before it plummeted into another alleyway a few buildings away.
Hugo would deal with him later. He rushed to Kevin’s side. “Kevin? You okay?” The boy was unconscious. Hugo moved to him pick up.
And the vest clock blinked on, red numbers flashing seven seconds…
…six seconds…
“Fucking furball!” Hugo ripped the vest off Kevin’s thin body.
…five seconds…
Wasting no time, he leaped straight up, rising higher and higher.
…four seconds…
Hugo just needed to be high enough, away from the Farmer’s Market before tossing the bomb. Panic notwithstanding, power flowed through him to soar into the night skies. He’d craved the sensation but couldn’t lose himself in that right now.
…two seconds…
Below, San Miguel was an endless crisscrossing maze of lights and streets.
“Far enough.” He hauled back the bomb vest to toss it away.
…zero seconds…
Searing, battering impact bludgeoned Hugo. The skies around him went fiery like a white-hot sun.
A roar walloped Hugo’s eardrums, followed by cold air whooshing around him. The light waned as soon as it erupted. Hugo, dazed and ragdoll limp, plummeted. The crisscrossing streets enlarged again, filling his scrambled brain with one thought. I’m falling.
The gardens of the Old San Miguel mission broke his fall, leaving a deep, smoking hole.
Black spots danced around the edges of his vision, the whole world swimming in circles. Hugo struggled to all fours. “That…hurt.” he wheezed.
His shirt and part of his boardshorts were ruined. Besides his body aching all over and spasming ab muscles, Hugo wasn’t seriously injured. “I’m bombproof…sorta.” Faint embers spiraled from the smoldering cloud staining the evening skies. Alarm erupted from the farmer’s market, followed by panicked stampedes. The aches on Hugo’s durable flesh faded. He slumped onto his back and laughed. Those hundreds of exclamations were sweeter than any music. Better that than silence or shrieks of agony from blast injuries.
Hugo sat up. “Kevin.” Lurching to his feet, he raced away as caretakers emerged from the mission.
Hugo's yo-yoing equilibrium careened him into a nearby white van.
By the loud crunch of a crumpled hood, the car yielded. Hugo shook his swimming head to clear it. “Sorry,” he hissed and zipped off with more balance.
Once he reached Kevin’s location behind the farmer’s market, the boy was kneeling and trying to shake off whatever he’d been dosed with.
Hugo almost stepped out from the shrubbery concealing him, but stopped to examine himself. His clothes hung by burnt threads. Way to be inconspicuous.
Thankfully, two elderly women from the farmer’s market found Kevin.
“Are you alright, young man?” one lady asked.
Kevin took in his surroundings with glassy eyes. “Dunno how I got here.”
The elderly women approached to comfort him and help.
Hugo sighed in thanks and withdrew into the shadows. Kevin was safe. Now Hugo had three other students to find. And he could place an ugly face behind these bombs. Unfortunately, when Hugo sniffed the air and listened, the liger was gone.
Hugo knew he’d lucked out on finding Kevin and this liger.
After zooming home, Hugo leaped through a second-floor window into his bedroom. Sione was downstairs with AJ watching Extreme Dreams. He loafed around watching TV a lot nowadays.
Hugo’s charred clothing and griminess would draw questions from Sione. He fished out his secondary cell from his desk drawer and made a call.
“Hi,” Hugo greeted. “I need your help.”
On the other end, Quinn Bauer chuckled. “Ironically, I was about to call for the same reason.”
Chapter 22
“Thanks, Martin.” Missy Magnificent acknowledged the coffee barista at the register with a megawatt smile. She snatched two steaming cups from the countertop, handing one to Quinn. “A Magnificent Mocha Latte from Central Cali Coffee, the best coffee in San Miguel.”
As they strolled from the busy cafe, Quinn drew her navy-blue peacoat closer around her frame. This gave Quinn flashbacks of morning coffee runs with Annie after w
ild nights of college bar crawling. Those coffee runs weren't with a teen superhero, her entourage, a videographer in front, or a van recording secondary footage.
Colin walked ahead of Quinn and Missy, recording their conversation. Shelley, another videographer, sat in the truck with Jess Richardson-Palmer recording different angles. Morning washed over The Junction in fiery waves, exposing dilapidated or unfinished buildings.
“Patrolling is so important in protecting a community,” Missy continued, sipping her latte with relish. “Making sure they see and know you.”
Quinn warily studied her surroundings while Missy preached about The Junction's positives. She was amazed by Missy’s spryness after last night’s partying downtown. The bender had been triggered by Quinn playing her the Extreme Teens interviews. To say Missy hadn’t enjoyed them was an understatement.
Missy wore her brand-new costume: sparkly black unitard showing lots of leg. The matching long-sleeve jacket had a hood drawn halfway over her head of wavy blonde hair. It paid homage to Missy’s old costumes but with a more mature edge.
Missy waved at someone she recognized across the street. “Morning, Harold!”
“Fuck you, princess!” Harold spat while sweeping his storefront.
Missy, unfazed, turned to Quinn with a wider smile. “See? A real connection!”
Quinn nearly choked on her coffee. From her viewpoint, many Junction residents didn’t care. A few like Harold were openly hostile. But from coverage she’d done two days prior, some were hopeful that Missy’s notoriety would elevate The Junction.
Another voice chimed in on Missy’s left. “Missy is shedding OWE's candy-coated corporate image,” said Missy’s manager and husband, Montgomery Major. “I know what she’s capable of. Now, the world will meet the real Missy Magnificent.” He leaned in with his thin lips on a ratty face to kiss Missy.
Now Quinn nearly choked back vomit. Since day one, Missy and her husband had been inseparable. Quinn had felt instant dislike. Monty, as he nicknamed himself, had fuzzy patches from the beard he couldn’t grow and longish hair pulled back in a ponytail. The tacky technicolor suit hung off his rail-thin body. With a lame power to change any object’s color, Quinn wasn’t surprised Monty had failed as a superhero. And how he leered at Missy like property made Quinn’s skin crawl.