First War (Minimum Wage Sidekick Book 6)

by Lucas Flint

  “There would have been too many witnesses if they had succeeded in blowing up The Mystery, too, you know,” said Rubberman. “I just want you to be safe.”

  “All right, but can I ride for just a little while longer?” I said as I zoomed past someone on a bike, who shouted some pretty creative curse words at me that I couldn’t hear due to how fast I was going. “Five more minutes and then I’ll ask Laser to take me back to the Cave. Please?”

  Rubberman sighed. “No. You’ve been out long enough. And take the shortest route you can find back. I don’t want you taking longer than necessary to get back to the Cave.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m heading back,” I said. “See you later.”

  I tapped the side of my helmet, turning off the radiocom. I looked down at the display on the handlebar and said, “Laser, set a course back for the Elastic Cave. Find the shortest route possible.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Laser. “Finding shortest route back to Elastic Cave … shortest route found.”

  Immediately, the Beams Bike turned down an alleyway to my right that I hadn’t noticed. The Bike rushed past garbage cans, dumpsters, and stray cats, including one we nearly ran over before it jumped out of the way with a hiss and a snarl. Even in this narrow space, the Beams Bike had no trouble navigating the alleyways. I was amazed at how easily the Bike drove itself. I almost wondered if it was even necessary for me to learn how to ride it myself, given how efficiently it drove itself.

  But just as we turned a corner down another alley, I heard a soft, yet distinct, thud, and in the next instant, the pop of the Beams Bike’s front wheel. The Beams Bike suddenly leaned forward, throwing me off of it. I went flying through the air briefly before I hit the pavement and rolled until I crashed into a trash can, knocking it over and sending its contents spilling all over the ground.

  My helmet had protected my head from the worst of the crash, but my right shoulder screamed in pain from where it had hit the ground. I grabbed my shoulder and groaned; it didn’t feel like it had reopened, but it hurt like hell anyway. Even just moving my shoulder sent pain rushing through my body, making it hard to concentrate.

  I heard a click sound above and then something small hit the pavement in front of me. Looking down, I saw that it was a bullet, now firmly embedded in the concrete, lying perhaps less than an inch from my visor.

  I didn’t think about it. I rolled to the side, ignoring the pain which exploded in my shoulder, as another bullet struck where I had been lying mere moments before. I rolled behind a nearby dumpster and got into a crouch, holding my shoulder as I crouched there, listening to the sound of bullets striking the metal dumpster which protected me. But the sound of bullets striking the dumpster quickly ended, perhaps because the shooter realized that the bullets were not piercing the dumpster.

  Even so, I didn’t relax. I did, however, slowly rise up and peer over the top of the dumpster to see who had been shooting at me. Looking up at the top of one of the buildings, I immediately spotted a man with a sniper rifle aimed directly at me. I saw him for only a split second—he wore a camouflage poncho of some sort—because I had to pull my head down as soon as he pulled the trigger and shot again. This bullet struck the wall opposite me, embedding itself firmly in the brick, rather than in my skull, which the sniper had been aiming at.

  I immediately tapped the side of my helmet, activating my radiocom, and said, “Boss, this is Beams. I need backup. Now.”

  “Backup?” Rubberman repeated. “Why? Are you in trouble?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “A sniper took out the Beams Bike and currently has me pinned in an alleyway. I don’t think I can shoot him myself because he’s got a quick trigger finger and I don’t want to give him a target.”

  “Okay, but it may be a while before we can send you help, because we don’t know where you are.”

  “What? I thought you said you could track the Beams Bike.”

  “Yes, but Adams says that the Beams Bike completely disappeared off the radar just a few seconds before you called. We’ll try to track your radiocom instead, so keep your radiocom on so we can—”

  Rubberman’s voice abruptly cut off. I tapped the side of my helmet several times, saying, “Boss? Boss, are you there? Hello?”

  But no matter how many times I tapped my helmet, I did not hear the distinctive click that the radiocom always made whenever it activated. Either one of our radiocoms had broke—which was unlikely, given how both were in excellent condition—or someone was jamming the signal between us. This was probably the same person who somehow managed to disable the Beams Bike’s tracking device, who was probably also the same person who sent this sniper after me. Heck, maybe it was the sniper; who says a sniper can’t also be a technological genius?

  In any case, I was on my own for now, which meant I would have to stop this sniper all by myself. The sniper himself seemed to be alone, at least, though that wasn’t of much comfort, given how he was apparently able to keep up with the Beams Bike long enough to shoot out one of its tires. I was surprised he hadn’t just sniped me while I was riding it; maybe he didn’t think he could hit me while I was in motion.

  I did not hear any sounds coming from the rooftops; the sniper had probably stopped shooting me due to the fact that I was no longer within his sight. I really wanted to get up and look to see if he was still in the same spot I saw him before, but again, I didn’t want to give him a target. Yet at some point I would need to look around or above the dumpster, because as long as I hid behind here, I would not be able to shoot him with my lasers, either. Right now, we were in a stalemate, waiting for the other to make the first move but not wanting to make the first move ourselves.

  And that wouldn’t have been a problem, really, if Rubberman had been able to track me and come to my rescue. As it was, however, I couldn’t simply wait it out, though now that I thought about it, I didn’t necessarily need to go out. I could just sit here behind the dumpster and wait for Rubberman to find me. That probably wasn’t very likely, but if the sniper couldn’t hit me behind here—

  A thud came from the wall in front of me and I looked up to see a bullet embedded in the brick wall. The position was different from where the other bullets had hit, which meant that the sniper had probably moved his position in order to get a better aim at me. How much longer was it until he found a good position in which he could shoot me even from my current position? Not much longer, based on how closely he nearly hit me. Therefore, I would need to act first and take him out before he could get me.

  Peering around the dumpster, I looked up at the rooftops again. Oddly, I could not see the sniper; he seemed to have disappeared. I tried to guess where he had been based on the bullet’s trajectory, but I wasn’t very good at tracking the trajectory of bullets, which made it hard to figure out where the sniper had been. All I could tell was that he was no longer in my view, which was dangerous, because if I couldn’t see him, then I couldn’t defeat him. I hoped he couldn’t see me as well, though there was no guarantee of that.

  All of a sudden, I spotted the sheen of the sniper’s scope on a nearby rooftop. Without hesitation, I fired two laser beams directly at it. My aim was a little off, however, and it just hit the edge of the roof, blowing it up, but through the smoke of the blast, I saw the sniper roll to the left.

  Rising to my feet, I unleashed a continuous beam of energy at the rooftop, tearing a straight line along its edge where the sniper was hiding. I could see the sniper running, trying to keep ahead of my laser, but my laser was nipping at his heel and I nearly got him. He was getting close to the end of the roof, which meant soon he’d have a choice of either jumping off and possibly breaking his legs or getting hit by my lasers, which would also render him immobile.

  With a yell, I whipped my head to the side, cutting through the last portions of the roof. The sniper—who was running too fast to stop—ran over the edge of the roof, off the portion I’d destroyed. He desperately reached out to grab the corner of the roof, but a
s soon as he grabbed it, the portion he grabbed snapped off and he fell straight to the street. He landed flat on his back, where he lay as still as if he had been knocked out or maybe even killed.

  Cutting off my laser, I slowly emerged from behind the dumpster and slowly walked toward the unconscious sniper. Now that he wasn’t running or hiding behind his sniper rifle, I could see that he was indeed a vigilante, although I didn’t know his name. His camouflage poncho covered much of his body and he also wore a mask which reminded me of a pilot’s mask, though it had a retractable eye, perhaps to help him aim better. I couldn’t tell how old he was, but based on how quickly he moved, I doubted he was very old.

  The sniper’s rifle lay a few feet away from him, still within his reach. I kicked the rifle out of his reach, just to be safe, and then turned to look at the sniper himself. With his mask covering his face, it was hard to tell if he was unconscious or not, though given how still he lay, that seemed like a safe assumption to make.

  I tapped the side of my helmet again, just to see if the jamming was done, but all I heard was static. That was odd. I had assumed that the sniper had been the one blocking my radiocom, yet if it was still being jammed even when the sniper was unconscious—

  A dark shadow appeared over me. I looked up just in time to see a massive hand reaching toward me, a hand huge enough to pick me up like a doll. I immediately jumped to the side, hit the ground with a roll, and rolled back to my feet several feet away from the unconscious sniper. I looked over to see who had been trying to grab me.

  Standing near the unconscious sniper was a black man wearing wizard robes. He was completely bald, even though he looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, but what stood out most was the huge, smoke-like hand extending from his back like some kind of weird scorpion tail. The hand was the same giant hand which had tried to grab me; because I’d managed to dodge it at the last minute, the hand had picked up nothing and was now clenched tightly around nothing.

  “You’re a fast one, son,” said the black man as his giant smoke hand rose above him. “Faster than I expected, I’ll give you that. I see why Hindsight had trouble with you.”

  “Hindsight?”

  “This guy.” The black man gestured at the unconscious sniper. “Used to be a successful superhero a few years back before he saw the light and joined us. Never missed a target until today, which is disappointing, but I suppose no one’s perfect.”

  “You’re a vigilante,” I said, pointing at the black man. “And the reason why my radiocom is being jammed.”

  “Of course,” said the black man. “Allow me to introduce myself. My superhero name is Smoke Man. Guess why.”

  “It can’t be because of that huge smoke hand rising out of your back, can it?” I said sarcastically. “It must be because you’re a heavy smoker.”

  Smoke Man chuckled. “Nah, son, I’m not a big fan of lung cancer. I don’t mind giving it to those fake heroes who deserve it, though. Like you, for example.”

  I bit my lower lip. I should have realized that Hindsight wouldn’t be alone, but I was so intent on taking him down that I hadn’t even thought about what I’d do if he had an ally. “Luckily, my helmet has filters to keep smoke out of my mouth, so you won’t get the chance to give me lung cancer.”

  “True, but I can still kill you,” said Smoke Man. “And quite painfully.”

  Smoke Man shot his giant smoke hand toward me. Like before, I jumped out of the way, but at the last second, the hand changed its course and slammed into me. Even though it was made of smoke, it was still solid enough to send me flying backward. I hit the ground and rolled several times before I stopped. My right shoulder exploded in pain; I couldn’t tell if the wound had reopened or if it just hurt a lot. I did know, however, that if I didn’t end this fight fast, I wouldn’t live long enough to find out.

  Scrambling back to my feet, I looked down the alleyway again. Smoke Man hadn’t moved an inch from his position by Hindsight, but he was looking at me with an amused expression. His smoke hand hovered over him, like a scorpion tail getting ready to sting. I wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but maybe he wanted to play with me a little before he finished me off. He seemed like the type to play with his food before eating it.

  My right shoulder still hurt like hell, but I forced myself to ignore it for the moment. I thought about running away, but at this point, I had no idea if I would be able to get away from him or not. I felt like I had no choice but to fight, so I stood my ground.

  “Not going to flee?” said Smoke Man. “How foolish. You know you can’t hurt me, either with your fists or your lasers, but still you choose to stay and fight.”

  “What can I say?” I said with a shrug. “I may be a ‘fake hero,’ but I at least have the courage of a real one. And anyway, you don’t know what I can do. Maybe I’m stronger than I look.”

  Smoke Man chuckled again. “Oh, really? I know exactly how strong you are, son. And it isn’t strong enough to beat me.”

  Smoke Man launched his smoke hand at me again. At the same time, I closed my eyes and fired my lasers at my lids, which shot back into my body. All of a sudden, a surge of adrenaline shot through me and the pain in my shoulder disappeared.

  When I opened my eyes again, the hand was nearly upon me. Without hesitation, I leaped straight up into the air, avoiding the hand, which shot past under me. Smoke Man looked up at me as I flew upwards, his jaw falling open comically. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that, but I bet he also didn’t expect me to do this.

  I landed on the rooftop of a nearby building but immediately jumped off it toward Smoke Man. I was moving too fast for him to dodge, so when I got close enough, I swung my foot at his face.

  But my foot passed through his face like smoke. In fact, my entire body passed through his head like smoke; I hit the ground behind with a roll and got back to my feet. I turned to face Smoke Man, who also turned to look at me, his amused grin still stuck on his face.

  “That was a neat trick,” said Smoke Man. He rubbed the side of his face. “Unfortunately for you, I can turn any part of my body into smoke. Punch and kick me all you like; I can guarantee you that not a single blow will land on me. You might as well be fighting the wind for all the good it will do you.”

  Uh oh. I still had my energy boost, but I was now starting to realize that it wasn’t as helpful as I thought it was going to be.

  Smoke Man’s giant hand came at me again, but I leaped out of the way and landed on top of a nearby building. Crouching low enough that Smoke Man couldn’t see me, I tried to think of a way to hit him, but I had no idea how you were supposed to hit smoke. Or really, how to hurt smoke, because at the moment that was my biggest concern.

  At that moment, I heard a crackling in my ears and then Laser’s monotone female voice said, “Hello, Beams. This is Laser speaking.”

  “Laser?” I said, though I spoke in a whisper so Smoke Man wouldn’t hear me. “I didn’t know you were still active. I thought you got shot out by Hindsight.”

  “My front tire was indeed popped, but that does not affect my AI,” Laser said. “The reason I have not spoken to you until now is because I have been running a diagnostic on the Beams Bike’s systems to ensure that it has not suffered any permanent problems. According to the results of my diagnostic, the Beams Bike will be fine as long as the front wheel is replaced.”

  “Thanks for the update,” I said sardonically. “That will really help me beat this smoke guy.”

  “You’re welcome, Beams,” said Laser, apparently missing my sarcasm. “With that out of the way, I have decided to find out if you require any assistance dealing with the two men who have ambushed you. I see you’ve already beaten one, but the other one is still active.”

  “Yeah, because he’s made of freaking smoke and I can’t hit him,” I said. “So unless you have some advice on how to fight smoke—”

  “Smoke, did you say?” Laser interrupted. “Interesting. Scanners indicate that not all of the
man’s body is made of smoke.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Yes. His torso appears to be a normal human torso. It seems that it is mostly his limbs and head which are made of smoke.”

  “Meaning that if I can hit his torso, I might be able to take him out,” I said. “Right?”

  “Right,” said Laser. “But he is probably aware of this weakness and no doubt has set up defenses to ensure its safety, which is why he lied to you about the nature of his powers.”

  “Not a problem,” I said. “All I need to do is distract him … hey, Laser, could you distract him with one of the Beams Bike’s features?”

  “Yes, I could. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

  “Whatever will distract him best. Do it quickly before he—”

  A dark shadow suddenly appeared over me and I looked up just in time to see Smoke Man’s hand rushing toward me. The hand grabbed me and lifted me off the roof. Despite being made of smoke, the hand held me as tightly as rock. I beat against it with my fists, but the hand tightened its grip on me even more and I stopped. Though my helmet’s filters did keep the smoke from filling my lungs, I could still feel the hand’s heat against my suit; if I hadn’t been wearing my suit, I probably would have been burned.

  The hand lowered toward the ground, still grasping me like a child holding its favorite toy, while Smoke Man stood below, his arms crossed in front of his chest, smirking up at me with that same smirk he always wore. I thought about shooting him now, but the time wasn’t right yet. As long as he was looking at me, he would always have a chance to anticipate my moves and dodge. I had to wait for Laser’s distraction, though when that would actually happen, I didn’t know yet.

  “You are very athletic,” said Smoke Man with a chuckle. “Far more so than I was told. Maybe you should call yourself Rabbit; you certainly jump like one.”

  “That would be a pretty stupid name for a sidekick,” I said. “Even stupider than Smoke Man, although at least it’s cute.”