by Greg James
Billy was wearing his normal clothes and holding a large hessian bag. ‘I’m a kid who wants a load of sweets,’ he explained.
‘Inspired,’ smiled Katie. ‘Nellie, you must be a ghost?’ Nellie was wearing what is, in many ways, the classic Halloween costume – a sheet with two eye holes cut in it.
‘Whoo,’ she confirmed quietly.
‘And Hilda … oh, wow!’ gasped Murph’s mum as the final Super Zero stepped forward into the light from the porch. ‘You look amazing!’
Hilda was wearing a pair of large purple horse ears fixed to a headband, a bright yellow leotard, purple wellington boots and a pair of orange rubber gloves. ‘I am Equana, Mistress of Horse!’ she exclaimed, striking a dramatic pose. ‘Real Heroes aren’t allowed costumes any more, but this is the one night of the year I get to wear one. I wanted the gloves to have fringes, like horses’ manes, but I couldn’t work out how to fix them on.’
‘Well, you look incredible. Like a true Hero,’ Katie told her. ‘Come on, then, zombie child …’
‘Victorian zombie child,’ Murph corrected her, coming out to join his friends. He had painted his face green and was wearing a costume from a school play two years ago.
‘Laziest costume ever,’ said his brother Andy, coming out of the kitchen eating a doughnut.
‘What about Billy?’ complained Murph.
‘Billy’s is funny,’ explained Andy. ‘You’ve just made the classic Halloween move of adding the word “zombie” to a completely unrelated costume. Anyway –’ he narrowed his eyes – ‘are you sure it’s safe for you lot to be wandering the streets? What if someone’s been at the school and recognises you?’
‘We’ve talked this through,’ soothed Katie. ‘They know to stick to busy areas, and come straight home if anything makes them feel worried. We can’t all just hide! Now –’ she forced her face into a cheerful expression, though it looked a bit like a jigsaw of a cheerful face with some pieces still missing – ‘say “scream”!’ She grabbed her phone and took a photo. ‘Have fun! Don’t be back too late.’
‘Let’s head up to Grove Avenue,’ said Billy excitedly as they walked away. ‘Those big houses up there always have great swag.’
‘You really love Halloween, don’t you?’ said Mary, looking at him sideways and adjusting one of the starfish on her hat.
‘I really love sweets,’ Billy corrected her. ‘And I’m not going home till this bag’s full!’
‘I’m sure nobody’s going to recognise us,’ said Murph, looking slightly nervously up and down the street. ‘No protestors, no newspaper reporters. Just a night to ourselves.’
As if by irony, there was a sudden chirruping as the HALO units they all wore on their wrists lit up green.
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Murph burst out.
‘Attention, Super Zeroes,’ said a calm voice from Murph’s watch. ‘Come in, Super Zeroes.’
Murph sighed, and lifted his arm with its glowing communications unit, which rather spoiled his whole Victorian aesthetic. ‘Super Zeroes responding,’ he answered.
‘We have multiple reports of fires breaking out near your location,’ said the voice from the Heroes’ Alliance. ‘We strongly suspect Rogue activity. Details to follow. Proceed as directed and await further instructions.’
A glowing map appeared, with a blinking green arrow showing them the direction the Alliance wanted them to follow.
‘Cool!’ said Hilda. ‘For once, I get to be a Hero in my Hero costume! Let’s go!’
Murph led the way as the five friends dashed off down the road. As they got closer to the town centre, the streets became more crowded. The Zeroes had to dodge an assortment of ghouls, ghosts, zombies, witches, wizards, giants, dwarfs, astronauts and animals.
A group of kids wearing large rubber llama masks stopped and stared as the Zeroes raced past. ‘Hang on,’ said one of the llamas. ‘Look! They’ve got those wrist communicators! It’s some of those weirdos!’
‘We prefer “Heroes”,’ Murph corrected them without thinking as he dashed past.
‘Why are you dressed as a Victorian?’ asked another llama, running after him.
‘Well, why you dressed as a llama?’ Murph shot back over his shoulder.
‘Are you gonna solve a crime or something?’
By now, all the llamas were sprinting down the street after them.
‘We’re being chased by a whole pack of llamas,’ Mary realised, glancing backwards.
‘Herd of llamas,’ Hilda corrected her.
‘Yes, of course I’ve heard of llamas …’ Mary began.
‘There’s no time for that now!’ yelled Murph. ‘And Mary, you owe us all ice creams for that terrible joke. At that point, their HALO units chirped again, and Murph lifted his to see the message ROGUE SIGHTING CONFIRMED flashing on the screen. The Zeroes stopped, panting, to read the extra details as they came through.
A picture of a tall, thin man with a pumpkin for a head was now being displayed. ‘This is the Night Watchman,’ came a voice from the Alliance, ‘sometimes known as Jack o’Lantern. He was one of the escapees from Shivering Sands prison and we’ve been trying to track him down for some time. He is the source of the fires. Apprehend and detain as a matter of urgency.’
‘Confirmed,’ said Murph, lowering his wrist.
‘Who’s the pumpkin guy?’ came a voice from behind him. One of the llamas had crept forward and was looking over his shoulder.
‘Oi, back off!’ complained Murph. ‘We’re kind of busy here!’
‘Let’s have a selfie then!’ piped up another llama.
‘No time!’ snapped Murph.
‘Oh, I see,’ huffed the llama. ‘Couple of articles in the paper and he thinks he’s a celebrity!’
‘My dad says they should be locked up, anyway,’ added one of his friends.
‘Well, your dad’s an idiot,’ sniffed Mary as the Zeroes dashed away.
‘Oi! What you saying about my dad?’
‘That he’s an idiot!’ said Mary over her shoulder. ‘Bye!’
Murph could dimly hear the llamas shouting and telling other trick-or-treaters what was happening as he and his friends ran on. But there was no time to worry about them. As they turned a corner into a large, wide street, he realised they had far more dangerous things to be concerned about. A dense plume of smoke was rising high into the night sky.
The Super Zeroes crouched behind a large street sign as a crowd of assorted supernatural beings raced in the other direction. Flames licked upwards from what they could now see was a large car that had been set ablaze. Illuminated by the flickering firelight, a tall, thin figure was dancing from side to side across the street, shooting gouts of bright orange flame from his eyes. As they watched, he set fire to a large tree and let out a shrill, delighted cackle.
‘I guess that’s the Night Watchman, then,’ said Murph grimly.
‘Setting things on fire … check,’ confirmed Billy. ‘Has a pumpkin for a head … check.’
The tall figure in the road ahead did indeed have a large, circular orange head. Beneath that he was sheathed in a long, flowing black coat. As the road emptied, they could hear his cackling voice carry to them through the still, chilly air.
‘Fire and flame, fire and flame,’ he was chanting, ‘fire and flame is the name of the game.’ A further burst set another car on fire, its windscreen shattering in the blast of heat. ‘Ooh! Bullseye! A hundred points for that one!’
‘Keep low!’ Murph told the others. ‘Let’s get closer to him. Stay out of the way of those flames!’
The street was lined with wide grass verges, dotted here and there with shrubs and small trees. Darting between these scant patches of cover, they weaved their way closer and closer to the Night Watchman. ‘Burn, baby, burn!’ he was hooting, jigging from foot to foot in the firelight. ‘Halloween inferno!’
‘He must stick out like a sore thumb for the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year!’ realised Billy, peering
out from behind a bush. ‘This is the one night he can go out in public without everyone running off screaming!’
‘He’s kind of blown his cover by setting all those cars on fire, however,’ added Mary drily.
‘I wouldn’t stand there gawping if I were you!’ came a sudden, crowing voice. ‘Things are about to get heated!’ The Night Watchman had spotted the white of Nellie’s ghost costume amongst the foliage.
‘Scatter!’ Murph managed to say, before a fresh blast of flames licked from the pumpkin’s eyes towards them, setting the bush instantly ablaze. The Super Zeroes dived to either side, rolling through the wet grass as a wash of heat rolled above them.
‘Oh, don’t run away now,’ coaxed the Night Watchman, stalking across the road towards them. ‘Things are just getting warmed up! Despite what your mummy told you, it can be quite fun playing with fire …’ More dancing flames shot out of his eyes, one of them scorching Billy’s heel as he scrambled away.
‘Hey! He flamed me!’ howled Billy, ballooning his whole leg in alarm, which made it even more difficult to escape.
Nellie had thrown off her sheet and was facing the Rogue with fury in her eyes. Sudden clouds boiled in the sky above her.
‘Yay, Nellie,’ encouraged Mary, crouched behind a hedge nearby. ‘Time to cool Mr Peter Pumpkinhead down a bit!’
At once it began to rain. But not just a shower. The kind of torrential rain that fills the air with moisture and sends everyone running for cover, soaked to the skin within seconds. The fires in the Night Watchman’s triangular black eyes sputtered and fizzed, unable to compete with the onslaught of water.
‘Not so hot now, are you?’ taunted Mary. ‘Nobody likes pumpkins anyway!’
‘What do you mean?’ he snapped back at her. ‘Everybody likes them!’
‘One day a year, maybe,’ replied Mary, ‘when you hollow them out and put a candle in them. But nobody knows what to do with them after that, they just get chucked in the bin.’
‘How dare you!’ roared the Night Watchman. ‘You can make a delicious pumpkin soup!’
‘Gross,’ shouted Murph, who had taken cover on the other side of the road.
‘Pumpkin pie?’ he suggested.
‘Even worse!’ countered Murph.
‘You can roast the seeds for a nutritious snack!’ the Night Watchman insisted desperately, ‘or … or make a nice pumpkin sandwich!’
‘Pumpkin sandwich?’ laughed Mary. ‘You’re really getting desperate now!’
‘I’ll tell you who should be desperate,’ snarled the Night Watchmen. ‘You! You meddling Heroes. Prepare to be fried! Like a delicious pumpkin fritter!’
‘Not a thing!’ Murph shot back, but saw to his alarm that the fires in the Night Watchman’s eyes had rekindled. The Rogue swung around, clearly intending to shoot a devastating jet of flame at Nellie, who was still standing out in the open.
Murph stared, open-mouthed. There was no time to do anything.
But before the pumpkin head could strike, a figure leaped at him from away to one side. Billy had crept around behind one of the burned-out cars, and now flew at the Night Watchman, ballooning one of his hands into a giant fist. It connected with the side of the pumpkin with a sickening squelch, laying the tall figure out cold on the chilly tarmac.
‘Yes, Billy! Balloon fist!’ exulted Murph, running over. ‘I’ll call the Alliance and get this idiot locked back away.’ But before he could lift his arm to use the HALO unit, a deafening cheer erupted from behind him. He turned to see a large crowd blocking the road, punching the air and whooping. He could make out the boys in llama masks amongst them.
‘Awesome!’ shouted one of them. ‘Real-life superheroes!’ There was a deluge of camera flashes and the llamas surged forward.
‘Whoa! You totally took him out!’ enthused the left-hand llama to Billy.
‘That’s kind of what we do,’ said Mary. ‘Take out bad guys. Keep everyone safe. Despite what the newspapers might try and tell you.’
‘What’s your superpower?’ The llama raised a finger towards Murph, who shuffled awkwardly.
‘Actually, I don’t have one,’ he admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed.
‘Eh?’ retorted the llama ‘What kind of Hero are you, then?’
‘He’s our leader,’ said Nellie suddenly, her eyes flashing. ‘We’d all have lost our powers if it wasn’t for Murph. He’s the biggest Hero of all. He’s Kid Normal.’
‘Kid Normal?’ echoed several voices in the crowd curiously, but the conversation was abruptly cut off as a plain black van picked its way through the throng and a squad of Cleaners arrived, bundling the Zeroes into their vehicle and whisking them to safety.
‘Let’s get you clear,’ said one of them as they accelerated away. ‘Not a good idea to hang around here. Too many cameras.’
‘But they were cheering!’ protested Mary.
‘They’re cheering now,’ said the Cleaner grimly. ‘But that can soon change, you mark my words.’
3
The Voice of the People
The grim prediction the Cleaner made to Mary didn’t quite come true in the days following the defeat of the Night Watchman. True, the protestors with their banners remained outside The School, and some of the newspapers and TV news programmes kept trotting out Nicholas Knox’s lies about Heroes. But another opinion began growing in popularity too; an opinion that Knox did not like one bit. He was forced to confront it a couple of weeks later, when he was making one of his now regular TV appearances.
Knox was being interviewed on breakfast news, sitting on the sofa next to the smartly dressed man and woman who presented the show. Murph, his mum and brother happened to be watching on the small TV that sat on the sideboard in their kitchen.
‘Look, it’s that Knox idiot again,’ said Murph’s mum, grimacing over her spoonful of porridge.
‘Well, joining us now is the man who first went public with the existence of these, er, so-cal led superheroes … Good morning, Nicholas Knox,’ said the woman, smiling into the camera lens.
Murph scraped his chair around to face the screen as the shot cut to Knox, looking immaculate as always in a smart suit and those bright, shiny shoes. ‘Good morning, Julia … Ben,’ he said, leaning across to shake hands with the presenters. ‘Thanks for putting up with me again. You must be sick of the sight of me by now.’ They all laughed politely.
‘Oily creep,’ said Murph’s mum through a mouthful of hot oats.
‘Let’s hear what he’s got to say, at least,’ complained Andy, putting down his toast. ‘After all, it’s not like I need to remind you about Magpie. He had powers and he certainly was dangerous. I would have thought us being kidnapped and held captive by him for weeks would have stuck in your mind.’
‘Yes, and Knox helped him, Andy,’ said their mum, putting a hand lightly on the top of her eldest son’s head.
Andy’s mouth was a straight line.
‘Since last month, Mr Knox, you’ve been calling for tighter controls on these people with … what are termed “Capabilities”,’ the male presenter was now saying.
‘That’s right, Ben,’ said Knox, crossing his legs and giving a tense, serious smile and a slight nod to the camera. ‘Since I uncovered these abnormal people living amongst us, I have been asking the Government to take action. It simply isn’t safe to have people with these strange and dangerous abilities running riot around the place. I’m just worried for all of us, you know? Our families … our kids.’ The two presenters were nodding along with him sympathetically.
‘This man-of-the-people act is really starting to get my goat,’ Murph’s mum broke in grimly.
‘We all know that many of the newspapers have taken up your cause, Mr Knox,’ the woman on the breakfast TV sofa was saying. ‘This one, for instance –’ she was waving the latest edition of a tabloid – ‘has even started a campaign for all abnormals, as you call them, to be registered and to obey a strict curfew …’
‘For their own protectio
n, of course,’ Knox interrupted. ‘This is all about keeping people safe.’
‘But what do you make of this article that’s causing a lot of debate this morning?’ the presenter went on, lifting another paper from the table in front of her and brandishing it in front of Knox.
‘I’m afraid I don’t … I haven’t seen that one yet,’ stumbled Knox, reading the headline: OUR WORLD NEEDS HEROES. ‘Which paper is that?’
‘It’s the Voice of the People,’ said the male presenter, ‘a highly respected periodical. It’s carried out a survey that says most people are delighted to have discovered there are true superheroes amongst us. It insists the things you say about them – calling them “abnormal” and dangerous and so on – are –’ he put on his glasses and read out loud – ‘ridiculous scaremongering. Nothing more than cheap lies designed to divide people with fear.’
Knox’s face had turned pale. Apparently he didn’t realise the camera had stayed on him, because a furious, twisted expression flitted across his face like a dark shadow. ‘How dare they?’ he hissed.
‘I’m sorry?’ asked the presenter.
Knox coughed, making an effort to collect himself. He managed a small laugh. ‘Obviously,’ he said, recrossing his legs, ‘there will always be differences of opinion. My supporters will tell you—’
‘Are these the supporters that, according to this newspaper, have been intimidating children on their way into school with insulting placards?’ interrupted the woman, raising her eyebrows. Knox dragged a hand across his forehead, dislodging a lock of his carefully arranged hair.
‘Is it true that you’re demonising these people just to make yourself more popular, Mr Knox?’ added the man on the sofa. ‘That’s what another newspaper is saying.’
Knox arranged his features into a smile. It looked to Murph as if it cost him considerable physical effort to do so. He spread his hands. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I’m just a normal guy who happened to discover a shocking secret. I felt that people deserved to know about it – and I personally feel that these abnormals …’
