An Author's Odyssey

by Chris Colfer

  “I changed my mind. Shoot him,” Frank instructed.

  Bolt flew through the air to avoid the bullet, not with the grace of an eagle or a hawk, but with the clumsiness of a baby bird. His erratic flight pattern made it very difficult for the Rat Pack to aim their guns at him, so they flipped their weapons over and swung them like baseball bats. Frank knocked Bolt out of the air and the not-so-super-hero hit the floor.

  “Tie him up,” Frank ordered, and eyed the hostages. “And for the rest of you—show’s over, back to work!”

  The Rat Pack tied Bolt to a chair and the tellers continued emptying the vault. Eventually the vault was cleared out entirely and the duffel bags were bulging with cash and gold. The tellers handed the bags back to the Rat Pack and the robbers headed for the door. Bolt tried to free himself from the restraints, but they were too strong.

  “This transaction has been a pleasure,” Frank announced to the bank. “See you next time!”

  Suddenly, a thunderous crash came from above. Three more superheroes dropped in from the domed ceiling—the rest of the Ziblings had arrived!

  The oldest Zibling was about sixteen and very athletic. He wore a bright yellow tank top, baggy yellow pants, big sneakers, and a headband. His muscly arms were bare and caught fire as soon as he touched the ground.

  The second-oldest Zibling was a fifteen-year-old girl. She wore a pink suit with a built-in miniskirt. She had sandy-blond hair that was braided into two long pigtails. She had complete control over her hair and twirled her braids like the blades of a helicopter until she came to a safe landing.

  The third-oldest Zibling wore a dark green suit and a leather jacket. Instead of a mask, he wore very dark sunglasses. His arms transformed into large feathered wings as he glided to the floor, then transformed back once he landed.

  All the citizens, tellers, and bankers sighed with relief at the older Ziblings’ arrival. The Rat Pack robbers simultaneously gulped and eyed one another nervously. Bolt rolled his eyes at his siblings’ splashy entrance—he had been hoping to handle the Rat Pack without them.

  “Hello, Frank, Sammy, Dean, Joey, and Peter,” the oldest said, acting as the Ziblings’ leader. “Have you come out of the sewer for fresh air?”

  “Hello, Blaze, Whipney, and Morph,” Frank said. “Have you come to save your little brother?”

  “I don’t need to be saved!” Bolt said. “Being tied to this chair is part of my plan, which you guys are kind of ruining!”

  The Ziblings ignored their little brother as if he weren’t even in the room. They locked eyes with the Rat Pack and never looked away.

  “We’ve come to take you and your boys back to prison, Frank,” Blaze said. “You belong in a cage just like all the other rodents.”

  The Ziblings charged toward the Rat Pack and the robbers ran for the door.

  Morph jumped in front of them and transformed into a brick wall. His sunglasses were his only remaining physical trait. He was now blocking the robbers’ exit, so they ran for the back door. Whipney whipped her head back and forth and her braids wrapped around Sammy’s and Dean’s ankles. She raised them into the air and knocked them into each other, and they fell unconscious to the ground.

  Joey and Peter aimed their guns at Blaze. He pointed at them and two fiery geysers blasted out of his fingertips. The robbers were set on fire and they dropped to the floor and rolled around to extinguish the flames. Morph transformed into a huge cage and Whipney scooped up Dean, Sammy, Joey, and Peter with her hair and threw the robbers inside it. They had caught all the rats in the pack except for one.

  Frank jumped over the wooden counter and ran to the back of the bank. He jumped inside the vault and locked the enormous metal door behind him. Blaze followed him and pressed his palms against the vault door. He heated the vault so much, the door turned bright orange and melted away. Whipney reached into the vault with her hair, pulled Frank out, and tossed him into the cage with the others.

  The bank hostages leaped to their feet in celebration. They cheered and applauded their rescuers. Everyone was thrilled the Ziblings had saved another day in Big City, USA—everyone but Bolt.

  “You’re in so much trouble,” Blaze told his little brother.

  “Why?” Bolt said. “I had everything under control before you showed up.”

  “You know the rules,” Whipney said. “No crime fighting until your homework is done, and Dad doesn’t want you doing it without us!”

  “I can take care of myself,” Bolt said. “I can do anything you guys can, you just never give me the chance! You never let me prove myself!”

  “Prove yourself?” said the cage Morph had turned into. “You can’t get out of that chair!”

  “How are you supposed to help people if you can’t even help yourself?” Whipney said.

  Tears came to Bolt’s eyes and he looked away from his siblings. It was an expression layered with embarrassment, frustration, self-doubt, and heartache all in one. Alex knew that look. She could have sworn she’d seen it somewhere before.

  Suddenly, memories surfaced like a movie playing in her mind. Alex flashed back to when she and Conner were in elementary school.

  “Let’s go around the room and say what we all want to be when we grow up,” their second-grade teacher told the class.

  “A doctor!” said a boy.

  “A senator!” said a girl.

  “A teacher!” Alex remembered saying.

  Her brother sat up at his desk, excited to share his answer.

  “A fireman!” he said. “I want to help people!”

  Even then, Conner wasn’t as good a student as Alex was. He had trouble learning to read, how to spell, and how to do math. He was always asking Alex for help with his homework and she became mad that he couldn’t keep up with her. So when Conner gave his answer about his plans for the future, Alex was inclined to respond.

  “A fireman?” she asked. “How are you supposed to help people if you can’t help yourself?”

  Everyone in the class laughed. Alex didn’t mean any harm by it; she was so young, it just slipped out of her mouth. Even though it had happened almost ten years before, the expression on Conner’s face had been engraved in her memory forever. It was exactly how Bolt looked at his siblings now.

  Soon, the front steps of the bank were filled with police and reporters. Morph transformed back into his human form and he, Whipney, and Blaze pushed the Rat Pack robbers outside and into the hands of the police. The Ziblings spoke with the reporters about what had happened. They took all the credit and soaked up the attention, leaving Bolt tied to the chair inside.

  “Now’s a good time to sneak into the Zibling Mobile,” Conner whispered to Alex.

  The twins exited the Big City Bank through the back door and Alex followed Conner into the alley behind it. The Zibling Mobile was a bright red convertible with rocket engines and a bright yellow Z painted on the side. The car was parked out of sight between two dumpsters, but Conner knew exactly where to find it.

  He felt around the back tire and pulled a spare key out of a hidden compartment. He opened the trunk and crawled inside it.

  “Come on,” Conner said, and offered his sister a hand.

  Alex hesitated before joining him. Something heavy was weighing on her heart.

  “Quick question,” she said. “Is this story based on anything that happened in real life? Anything that might have happened between us?”

  Conner thought about it, but shook his head.

  “Nope, this one is completely made up,” he said. “I just loved superheroes when I was a kid. ‘The Ziblings’ was one of the first stories I ever wrote.”

  Alex didn’t press the issue further; she just nodded and climbed into the trunk with him.

  Conner may have forgotten what happened in the second grade, but Alex couldn’t shake it. It wasn’t just the mean exchange in elementary school that bothered her, though. Alex was worried “The Ziblings” was much closer to home than Conner realized, and that she mi
ght be the story’s villain.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  PROFESSOR WALLET’S SECRET LABORATORY

  The Zibling Mobile zoomed through the streets of Big City, USA, tossing Alex and Conner around the trunk like clothes in a washing machine. Every turn was sharper than the one before, every acceleration was more forceful, and the vehicle never slowed down or came to a stop. It had only two speeds: fast and faster.

  “Who the heck is driving this thing?” Alex asked.

  “Blaze just got his license,” Conner said. “He’s a little zealous about it.”

  The Zibling Mobile ran over speed bumps, causing the twins to slam into the top of the trunk.

  “I bet his driving puts more people in danger than all the robbers and criminal masterminds combined!” Alex said.

  It was pitch-black in the trunk, so the twins had no clue which street or neighborhood the vehicle was cruising through. Conner was able to track their whereabouts to a certain point, but Blaze’s reckless diving was so discombobulating, he didn’t even know if they were still headed for Professor Wallet’s laboratory.

  “How much longer are we going to be in this thing?” Alex asked. “I feel like a scrambled egg.”

  “The laboratory is deep underground just a few miles outside of the city,” Conner said. “At the speed Blaze is driving, it shouldn’t take much longer.”

  “And how exactly do we get to the laboratory?” Alex asked. “I’m assuming there’s more involved than just surface streets.”

  “They have to go into the Big City Lake, through the sewer, and down an abandoned subway tunnel,” Conner said.

  “Can their car go underwater?” Alex asked.

  “Of course their car doesn’t go underwater,” Conner said. “It turns into a submarine first.”

  The twins heard a bunch of mechanisms moving throughout the vehicle as it converted into a submarine. Then they heard a big splash outside, and a moment later the trunk began filling with water.

  “We must be in the lake,” Conner said.

  “I thought you said the vehicle turns into a submarine!” Alex said.

  “Apparently everything but the trunk,” he said. “Gosh, I never thought I’d have to be that specific!”

  Alex snapped her fingers and the water stopped. The Zibling Mobile moved into the sewer, and the twins gagged and covered their noses with their shirts. There wasn’t enough magic in the world to keep out the smell.

  The Zibling Mobile converted back into a car, and its tires touched solid ground again. The vehicle rattled and shook as it drove over the tracks of the abandoned subway passage. It was so bumpy, the twins became nauseated. Right before they were about to vomit, the car came to an abrupt stop.

  They heard the vehicle’s doors open and close as the Ziblings got out.

  Conner popped the trunk just a crack, and he and Alex peered out.

  “We’re here,” he whispered. “This is Professor Wallet’s secret laboratory.”

  The underground laboratory was built on a former subway platform. The Zibling Mobile was parked on the subway tracks below it and was only one of many methods of transportation. There was a Zibling Jet, a Zibling Speedboat, Zibling Motorcycles, Zibling Segways, and even a Zibling Carriage with robotic horses.

  The laboratory had everything a secret superhero base could need. There was a wall of televisions with live news feeds from every major city in the world. There were giant computers, microscopes, test tubes, data servers, and generators. In the center of the laboratory was a big red lightbulb that went off whenever a crisis occurred. All the appliances were neatly labeled in case there was any confusion over what the object was.

  Not only was Professor Wallet a devoted astrophysicist, he was also a proud father. The laboratory was decorated with photos of his adopted children and tokens of their accomplishments. The Ziblings’ very first superhero suits were framed and hung on the walls. There was a lit candle with a plaque that read “Blaze’s First Flame.” A lock of hair and a pair of mangled scissors were on display and tagged “Whipney’s First Haircut.” There was a photo of a trash can wearing sunglasses marked “Morph’s First Transformation.” Another photo, of a toddler sucking on a glowing lightbulb like a binky, was labeled “Bolt’s First Spark.”

  There was also a wall covered with a giant map of Big City, USA. The map was bordered with mug shots of all the criminals the Ziblings had brought to justice. Pieces of yarn stretched from the mug shots to the places on the map where the criminals had been caught.

  Each Zibling had a corner of the laboratory filled with personal belongings. Blaze had a collection of hot sauces, matches, and fire extinguishers. Whipney had a vanity full of hair products and industrial-strength brushes and combs. Morph had framed butterflies, moths, beetles, wasps, and shelves of photography books—all inspiration for metamorphosis. Bolt had a desk where he made figurines out of old batteries.

  Whipney printed out five mug shots of the Rat Pack and placed them on the wall with the others. Blaze went to the computer and dialed a number on the keypad.

  “What are you doing?” Bolt asked.

  “I’m calling Dad,” Blaze said. “He needs to know you left the laboratory without permission—again.”

  “Tattletale!” Bolt said.

  A few moments later, Professor Wallet appeared on the computer screen. He was an older man with a gray beard and thick glasses that magnified his blue eyes. He wore a turquoise turtleneck and a white lab coat. The professor held his communication device way too close to his face and the camera was aimed up his nostrils.

  “Hello, children,” the professor said. “Is this an emergency? I’m just about to step into a meeting with the German chancellor about her new anti-matter research program.”

  “It’s not an emergency, but someone snuck out of the laboratory to fight crime on his own again,” Blaze said, and nodded at Bolt.

  The professor rubbed his eyes under his glasses. “Oh, Bolt,” he said disappointedly. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “It’s not fair!” Bolt said. “Blaze, Whipney, and Morph were allowed to fight crime on their own when they were my age!”

  “Young man, we’ve been over this a hundred times,” Professor Wallet said. “Your abilities haven’t reached their full potential yet. The radiation from the asteroid reacted differently with each of your DNA, meaning your powers will peak at a different time than your siblings’. Remember, not all flowers bloom in the spring.”

  “What if I’m more like a Venus flytrap than a flower?” Bolt argued. “Maybe my powers are just waiting for an opportunity to show up!”

  “Science doesn’t work that way,” the professor said. “I don’t make the rules to upset you—I make them to protect you. You’re grounded until I get back home.”

  Bolt grunted and stomped his feet. He sulked over to his corner of the laboratory, zapping Blaze on the ear as he went, and then pouted at his desk.

  “I’m being summoned into the chancellor’s office,” the professor said. “I’ll call you tonight when I get to my hotel room.”

  “Tell the chancellor we said hello,” Morph said.

  “And tell her I love the new highlights!” Whipney said.

  The professor looked confused. “Of the anti-matter program?” he asked.

  Whipney sighed. “No, Dad, in her hair,” she said.

  “Oh, of course,” the professor said. “I will pass along the message. Good-bye, children.”

  The professor hung up and disappeared from the computer screen. The Ziblings went to their respective corners to decompress. Blaze drank a bottle of hot sauce like it was water and did push-ups. Whipney’s hair unbraided and brushed itself while she flipped through a magazine. Morph looked at a photography book and practiced transforming into the objects he saw. Bolt played with his battery figurines and tied a tissue around one to give it a cape.

  Conner quietly closed the trunk of the car to have a private word with his sister.

  “Here�
��s my plan,” Conner said. “We’re going to get out and tell them we’re reporters from the Otherworld Times, a syndicated school newspaper that runs in twenty-five states. We’ll say we’re looking to do a personal-interest piece on the bravest, strongest, and smartest superhero in the country. And to prove which one of them deserves the title, we’ll take them to the fairy-tale world, where whoever defeats the most soldiers in the Literary Army will be the winner. What do you think?”

  Alex definitely saw some flaws in her brother’s plan, but she kept them to herself. She was still consumed by guilt from her realization at the bank. She never wanted to discourage her brother again.

  “Brilliant!” she said. “That’s a great idea—no, it’s an amazing idea! Gosh, all your ideas are so wonderful. I don’t know how you do it.”

  Even though the trunk was dark, Conner gave his sister a funny look. Something was up. Alex was never that supportive. He worried she might have hit her head in the car ride over.

  “Alex, are you feeling okay?” he asked.

  Before she could answer, the red lightbulb in the center of the laboratory started flashing and a loud siren went off. The Ziblings jumped to their feet like protective canines and ran to the wall of televisions. They scanned the screens and saw a frantic reporter on the French news. Blaze turned up the volume and pressed a button so the reporter’s words were translated into English.

  “Paris is under attack,” the reporter said from the newsroom. “The mad scientist and criminal mastermind known as the Snake Lord, notorious for his interactions with the Ziblings in Big City, USA, has taken over the Eiffel Tower!”

  The news program played footage of the Snake Lord from earlier that day. He was a tall, muscular middle-aged man with a villainous scowl. His eyes were yellow with narrow pupils like a reptile. He wore a large helmet shaped like the head of a king cobra and a long purple cape. The Snake Lord licked his lips and exposed a forked tongue.

  “That slithering son of a gun!” Blaze said.