The Superhero's Cure

by Lucas Flint

  Frustrated, I turned around and slammed my fist into the wall behind me as hard as I could. The room shook slightly upon impact, but otherwise, nothing happened. My fist left no dent, but it felt good to release my anger. It would have been better if that punch had actually freed me, but I guess you had to live with what you had.

  That was when I heard a soft click from the door, which sounded like the lock being undone. Was someone coming to check up on me? I wondered who it could possibly be. Surely Seth wasn’t coming to see me in person. And it definitely couldn’t have been Janet, because I didn’t think Seth would send in his wife alone in a room with me. Then again, Seth let Janet greet the Red Tide Pirates all by herself, so who knew what he was thinking?

  In any case, I moved over to the spot behind the door, readying myself to jump on whoever came in. If it was one of Seth’s servants, I would tackle them to the floor and make them let me out. If it was Seth himself, I would do the same. I decided I would just have to retrieve the weapon somehow and get that back to the G-Men. As much as I distrusted the G-Men, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to help Seth take them down, or for that matter, why he wanted them taken down at all.

  Then the door opened and someone stepped inside. He was kind of a short guy, but I didn’t wait too long to pounce on him. I tackled the guy from behind, earning a surprised gasp from him, and we both hit the steel floor below us. The guy struggled against me, but I grabbed his arms and twisted them behind him hard enough to make him cry out in pain.

  “Don’t move, whoever you are,” I said, no strain in my voice as I forced him down. “Or I’ll snap both of your arms into itty bitty little pieces.”

  “Hey, get off me,” said the guy. His high-pitched voice was strangely familiar, and now that I got a better look at him, I thought he even looked familiar with his leather outfit and tons of belts. “I’m on your side, idiot. I’m trying to save you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do I know you? You don’t look like anyone I know.”

  The guy twisted his head to look at me. He wore a strange spiky helmet, with a patch over one eye, but his other eye was unobstructed, allowing me to see just how angry he looked.

  “What do you mean you don’t remember me?” said the guy. His voice broke like a teenager’s as he tried to sound deep and menacing. “Remember back in Golden City when I took out those Iron Ringers for you?”

  I paused and then gasped. “Your name isn’t Edgar Vigilant, is it?”

  The guy groaned. “No, moron. It’s Edge Vigilante. And I’m going to save your dumb butt.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Startled, I let go of Edge’s arms and stood off him. Edge immediately jumped to his feet and turned to face me. The scowl he wore on his face would have been awfully intimidating if he wasn’t at least a head shorter than me and a lot thinner than me. He had ditched the big rifle for a smaller gun holstered at his side that nonetheless looked even bigger than his head.

  “I didn’t expect to see you again, Edge,” I said. I paused and then added, “Just what the heck are you doing here, anyway? How did you even know I was here?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Edge. Now that I had heard his real voice—which sounded like a high-pitched teenager going through puberty—his fake deep voice just sounded ridiculous, like Christian Bale in the Batman movies. “How I got here is my business. What matters is that I, once again, have to step in and save you. What a load you are.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “You can drop the voice now, kid. I can tell you’re probably just like fourteen or something—”

  “I am old as darkness and evil itself,” Edge replied. “I am the reincarnation of the flames of hell itself and—”

  “Yeah, I know, you’re the edgiest edge ever,” I said, cutting off Edge’s monologue short. “Listen, I still don’t know who you really are, but thanks for saving me anyway. I really didn’t know what I was going to do there. I mean it.”

  Edge suddenly looked away from me. “Eh, it wasn’t that hard. I do this sort of thing all the time.”

  Although Edge was clearly trying to look cool and detached, I could tell he was actually a little embarrassed by my genuine praise. Yep, definitely a fourteen-year-old edgelord. Despite that, I couldn’t help but chuckle, because I had been somewhat like him when I was his age, although nowhere near as edgy.

  “What are you laughing at?” Edge snapped, glaring at me.

  “Nothing,” I said, holding up my hands. “I was just thinking that we need to go. Seth will probably find out you helped me escape soon, and once he does … well, I don’t want to see what he’s going to do.”

  “That’s why we need to leave right away,” said Edge. “There’s an unguarded lifeboat we can use to get out of here. I’ll show you where it is.”

  Edge was about to walk past me, but I put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Wait, not yet.”

  Edge looked up at me incredulously. “Not yet? Why not? Do you want him to find us?”

  “No, but there’s something else I need here,” I said. “The government weapon. I need to find it and bring it back to the G-Men.”

  “That thing?” said Edge. “Forget about it. We need to get out of here stat.”

  “My girlfriend will die if I don’t get it,” I said. “I know you probably just hit puberty and are just now starting to consider the benefits of girls, but this is important to me. If I don’t get this weapon, I won’t be able to get the cure for her disease and then she will die.”

  “You’re just going to get yourself caught again,” said Edge. “Or worse. Seth Richards isn’t nearly as nice as he seems.”

  “Sounds like you speak from personal experience,” I said, folding my arms in front of my chest. “Want to let me know how you know him? Or why you’re even here in the first place?”

  Edge looked away again. “You know my backstory. My parents were killed before my eyes when I was five and I’ve grown up on the streets swimming in oceans of—”

  A sudden ringing noise came from Edge’s pocket. Hastily, Edge patted his clothing until he found the pocket with his phone, but he pulled his phone out too fast and it fell onto the floor. That was how I caught a quick glimpse of the caller ID—which said ‘MOM’ in all capital letters—before Edge scooped up the phone and answered it, saying, “Mom, what is it? Can you call me back later? I’m doing something important and—”

  Whatever Edge said was interrupted by a rather shrill sound on the phone. He cringed and for a moment looked more like the fourteen-year-old boy he was, rather than the badass vigilante he liked to imagine he was. “Okay, okay, Mom, I got you. See you later. Bye.”

  “Mom?” I said, unable to hide my grin as Edge shoved his phone back into one of his many pockets. “I thought you said your parents were dead.”

  “She’s my step-mom,” said Edge in the most unconvincing voice ever, not helped by the fact that he only switched back to his fake deep voice halfway through his sentence. “And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I need to get out of here and you should do the same.”

  “Sorry, Edge, but I don’t have a curfew like you,” I said as I turned around. “If you want to run away, that’s fine, but I’m not leaving until I get that weapon.”

  I walked out of the room and into the hallway of the yacht, but then I heard footsteps behind me and looked over my shoulder to see Edge following me. He wore a very sour frown like he was upset that things weren’t going his way. Definitely a kid, but I still had no idea what his deal was.

  “What?” I said. “I thought you said you didn’t want to help me.”

  “Well, given how often you get yourself into trouble, I figured I should follow you to make sure you don’t get yourself killed or something,” said Edge in his gruffest voice. “Besides, I know where the weapon is, while you don’t, so you need my help to find it at all.”

  It was pretty obvious to me that Edge had been hoping I would run away with him and had just come up with that excuse to explain his own
change of plans, but frankly, I didn’t see any issue with having some backup, even if Edge was just a kid. Wasn’t so long ago that I was his age, after all, although after everything I’d been through, I felt a lot older than the nineteen I was.

  “All right, then,” I said. “Lead the way, my friend, and I will follow.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Edge might have been a fourteen-year-old kid who read too many nineties comics, but I had to admit he had skill. He clung to the shadows of the yacht, his dark costume blending in so seamlessly with the darkness that a few times I lost him entirely. He could move incredibly quietly when he wanted to, as well as quickly. In comparison to him, I was pretty clumsy, despite my best efforts to match his exact steps and movements.

  According to Edge, the government weapon had been taken, not to the stateroom, but to the yacht’s cargo hold. It seemed strange to me that a yacht, of all things, would have a cargo hold, but Edge assured me that Seth’s yacht was specially designed to transport cargo that he didn’t want the government to know about. It made me wonder how Edge knew so much about Seth Richards, but again, I didn’t ask him, partly because there was no time to talk, partly because I didn’t want Edge’s spiel on the tragic deaths of his parents and how he had to raise himself on the street or something, especially now that I knew about his step-mom.

  We moved through the lower levels of the yacht quickly and easily. As it turned out, Seth Richards didn’t have any of his servants on board this yacht. It was almost entirely automated, although Seth himself could apparently take control of it if necessary. It made me wonder if Seth got his money from the tech industry or something because that seemed too advanced for your average aging billionaire to grasp.

  It wasn’t long before we reached the door to the cargo hold, which stood before us on the level below the level I had been imprisoned in. It was locked with an electronic lock that required a password. Not knowing the password, I opted at first to smash it open with a fist before Edge revealed that he knew the password and that it would attract less attention if we used the password instead of resorting to property damage.

  I will admit to being skeptical at first until Edge actually input the password on the keypad, making a soft click come from the door, which Edge pushed open without a second thought and entered. I went in after him and looked around at the cargo hold we had entered.

  The yacht’s cargo hold was surprisingly spacious, with a high enough ceiling that I didn’t have to worry about scraping my head. It was rather hot, though, almost uncomfortably so, perhaps because there weren’t any vents for air conditioning. I guess that Seth didn’t think it was necessary or something when he remodeled his yacht. At least it was well lit, with fluorescent lights on the ceiling providing more than enough light by which to see.

  Aside from a few unmarked crates, my eyes were immediately drawn to the large steel case—about the size of a full-grown human being—in the middle of the hold. It looked like the empty one from before, the one that had sprayed me and Fingerprints with powerless gas, but I suspected that this one was the real deal, because it had more locks and straps around it than the first. Even with all of those extra locks and straps, however, it would be very easy for me to open.

  “There it is,” I said excitedly. “The weapon!”

  I ran over to the case and immediately began tearing at the locks and straps. Edge walked over to the other side of the case, a curious look in his single visible eye. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know,” I said as I snapped locks and ripped apart straps. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. All I know is that it’s a powerful weapon that the government doesn’t want to fall into the hands of our enemies like Russia and China.”

  Edge rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Politics. The domain of liars and scam artists even worse than the typical scum you find on the streets.”

  “You can just say you’re a kid and you think politics is boring, you know.”

  “I am not a kid,” Edge protested. “I am a full-grown adult and I demand to be treated as such.”

  “Uh huh,” I said as I snapped the final lock with a quick chop of my hand. “Anyway, this is it. You should stand back. Last time I opened this, I got a face full of powerless gas. In case it’s another trap, I need you to stand a good distance away for your own safety.”

  To my relief, Edge didn’t even hesitate to take several steps away, although his eyes never left the case. I guess he was just as curious about this weapon as I was. Well, soon both of our curiosity would be satisfied and the two of us would finally find out what all this fuss was about. Whatever the weapon might be, I seriously doubted it was anywhere near as dangerous as the G-Men said it was.

  I flipped the lid of the case open and peered inside. Luckily, this time I didn’t get a face full of powerless gas, but what I saw inside the case made my jaw drop. “No way …”

  “What is it?” asked Edge cautiously. “Is it safe to look?”

  I didn’t answer, because I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Yet I also didn’t dare look away, because I half-expected it to disappear as soon as I did.

  What lay in the case wasn’t a weapon at all. Not a gun, sword, knife, or even a bomb. Yet I could see why they called that thing a weapon because, in the right hands, it very well could be.

  Lying on the bottom of the case, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his eyes closed, was the clone of my uncle Jake Johnson, perfectly whole and in one piece.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  There was no mistaking the man lying in the case for anyone but Uncle Jake. Although Uncle Jake had died when I was about a year old, I had seen plenty of pictures of him from before his death and the man below looked almost exactly like him. Same wavy red hair, same pale skin, same square jaw. He looked slightly more muscular, but other than that, I had no trouble recognizing him.

  But this wasn’t Uncle Jake. Not the original, anyway. This was his clone, the only successful clone to come from Project Revival. I had met him once before what seemed like an eternity ago back in Vault F, where the two of us teamed up together to defeat the Neo-Killer. Last I saw, Fisticuffs had run off to find out who he really was, but I had no idea if he had survived the self-destruction of the Vault until now. He still wore the same sleek black bodysuit from before and even had the hawk-like motorcycle helmet sitting under his hands.

  He looked for all the world like he was taking a soft nap, but his unnatural stillness told me that he was doing more than just taking a nap. He was in some kind of induced coma, I bet, although I wasn’t sure how to awaken him.

  “Huh?” said Edge. He said that in his normal voice, but then shook his head and said, this time in his fake deep voice, “Who is that?”

  “My uncle,” I said. “Or a clone of my uncle.”

  Edge looked at me skeptically. “A clone of your uncle? What’s he doing in this box? Where is the weapon?”

  “My young lad, Jake Johnson—formerly known as the Crimson Fist in his heyday—is the weapon the government doesn’t want to fall into the wrong hands,” said a familiar calm voice behind us. “A weapon that could change the very notion of modern warfare in ways even I can’t imagine just yet.”

  Edge and I whirled around to see Seth Richards standing in front of the only exit out of here. He wasn’t alone, however. Janet stood with him, looking as beautiful and attractive as ever, but now I eyed her as carefully as I eyed Seth. Neither of them looked like much, but the fact that they were willing to confront two superheroes alone in a cramped place set off my alarms like nothing else. My eyes darted from side to side, but I did not see anyone else in here other than me, Edge, Seth, and Janet.

  “How did you know we went down here?” I said. “Edge broke me out without tripping any alarms.”

  “Hidden security cameras, of course,” said Seth. He no longer held his wine, but he looked just as smug as he did back in the cage. “We saw the entire thing happen. We didn’t know for sure that you would head do
wn here, but I considered it likely, seeing as you want to save your girlfriend’s life, which you can do if you get the weapon and return it to the G-Men. Therefore, once we saw you break out, we headed down here as soon as possible.”

  Although Seth appeared to be unarmed, I didn’t let my guard down. I hoped Edge kept his guard up as well, but he seemed extremely uncomfortable in the presence of Seth. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, which was understandable, because Seth made even me feel unsafe around him. I could only hope that Edge wouldn’t let his nerves get the best of him in a fight.

  I gestured at Uncle Jake’s clone. “I don’t understand. The last time I saw Fisticuffs was back in Vault F, right before it self-destructed. When we went to look later, we couldn’t find his body. So how did he end up here?”

  Seth chuckled. “There was a delay between the time you left the Vault and the time you returned, wasn’t there? Three days, if I recall correctly.”

  “Are you telling me someone got into the Vault and recovered Fisticuffs’ body before I got there?” I said. “But it didn’t look like anyone had been there when we returned to check on it.”

  “That is exactly what I am saying,” said Seth. “As for who it was, it was the G-Men, obviously. They took greater interest in the Neo-Killer case after Phobia was killed in action, but they allowed you to take care of him. I am not quite sure how they did it, but the G-Men broke into the Vault after you left and recovered Jake Johnson’s body. He looked awful when they found him, and they even thought he was dead at first, but when they found his heart still beating, they patched him up good as new. Although they kept him in suspended animation to make sure he couldn’t get away.”

  “You sound like you were there when it happened,” I said. “Were you?”