First Mentor (Minimum Wage Sidekick Book 5)

by Lucas Flint

  Nightbolt, on the other hand, acted as if he was fifty or sixty years younger than he actually was. He had woken up early and burst into my room earlier blowing a loud horn in my ears, which caused me to fall out of bed. He then practically dragged me to the kitchen table to have breakfast and probably would have dragged me out of the house in my underwear if I hadn’t insisted on putting my Beams costume back on first. He waited patiently for me to put my costume on, and when I did, he told me we were going to hike to the location of our next training session. I asked him why we couldn’t just go to the Arena, but he told me that this next lesson he had to teach me couldn’t be taught very well in the Arena.

  When Nightbolt said we were going to walk, I assumed that it would just be a short trip, but we had been walking for over half an hour already. Due to the fact that it was winter, it wasn’t as hot as it could have been, but it was still hotter than I would have liked. Again, Nightbolt did not seem bothered by the heat. He just marched on as cheerfully as ever, as if he had no cares in the world at all.

  I had no idea how he could possibly be so upbeat and cheerful, especially after last night. He had the brain of a dead alien god in his basement; moreover, it was the evil brain of a dead alien god that could turn peoples’ bodies into rubber, a brain which probably had world domination on its mind. Then there was the fact that I had almost murdered Rubberman, a thought I still couldn’t shake, and I was starting to think that Nightbolt must have liked his drink, even though I hadn’t seen any evidence of beer in his house yet. Or maybe he did drugs; I’d heard that small towns had problems with illegal drugs, so maybe Nightbolt had his own stash hidden somewhere in his house.

  But I really didn’t care why he was so excited. I took advantage of this time we spent hiking to think about what Nightbolt had told me last night. It was an incredible story he’d told me, but at the same time, it was probably true. Nightbolt was a pretty honest guy. I doubted he would lie to me, about this or about anything else. Most likely, the story was true.

  That didn’t make it any easier to accept, though. Especially the part about the Rubber Ball being the perfectly preserved brain of some dead alien god. That sounded like something straight out of bad horror stories, but deep down, I sensed there was a lot of truth to that theory. It certainly explained why the Rubber Ball seemed both actively malicious and yet utterly alien in both appearance and behavior. Maybe someday I’d go to the Antarctica myself to find the city where Xavier supposedly found it, although right now I cared more about saving up money for my car than traveling out of the country.

  But then there was the fact that Rubberman was basically only half human. I mean, it explained why he could stretch and twist his body like rubber, but it was still bizarre to think that my boss was not entirely human. Then again, considering how my boss’ ex-wife was a literal witch that could summon zombies to do her bidding, maybe I shouldn’t have found this so strange.

  Thinking about Rubberman made me realize that he hadn’t called me at all since I left Golden City last week. Greta had called me—even my parents had called me once during the week—but Rubberman’s number had never appeared on my phone’s screen. Of course, Rubberman was still in the hospital, but the last time I saw him, he was perfectly capable of using the phone. Why hadn’t he called me to find out how my training was coming along? Was he busy with something else? Or did he trust Nightbolt enough that he didn’t feel the need to check on me, not even to make sure I had gotten there safely?

  My thoughts were interrupted when Nightbolt said, “We’re here!”

  I looked up to see where ‘here’ was.

  We were now standing in front of an old, abandoned oil derrick, which I had somehow not noticed during our hike despite how large it was. It was incredibly rusted and also coated in a thick layer of sand and dust. I looked to the left and to the right, but I didn’t see anything else around here except for the derrick.

  I looked at Nightbolt. “This is it?”

  “This is it,” Nightbolt said, his smile never leaving his face. He gestured at the derrick. “This is my personal oil derrick. Used to pump oil back in the old days, but when this particular well dried up, it was abandoned. Came with the house when I bought it and haven’t seen any reason to get rid of it.”

  I blinked and looked up at the derrick again, which I remembered seeing when I first came to Nightbolt’s house a week ago. “That’s, uh, cool. Let me guess, is it called the Derrick?”

  Nightbolt looked at me like I was an idiot. “No, of course not. It’s just a derrick. Nothing special about it.”

  “What?” I said. “If it’s just an ordinary derrick, then why did we hike half an hour to reach it?”

  “Because this is where we’re going to train,” said Nightbolt. “What is it you kids say nowadays, ‘duh’?”

  “No one says that anymore.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Nightbolt patted the oil derrick. “This is where we’re going to train, regardless of what kids these days say.”

  I was starting to suspect that Nightbolt was trolling me now. “Okay, exactly how are we going to train? What will be my lesson for today?”

  “Good question,” said Nightbolt. He readjusted his baseball cap. “Today, you’re going to learn how to use your powers to give you an edge in battle.”

  “I already know how to do that,” I said. “I’ve used my laser beams loads of times to beat villains and criminals alike.”

  “Likely in the most awkward way possible,” said Nightbolt. “While you do appear to have a decent grasp over your laser beams, I imagine you still haven’t used their entire potential yet. I’ve trained many empowered humans before, and each one has always come away with a new understanding of the limits and capabilities of their powers after training with me.”

  I looked at the derrick again. “You sure this derrick is the best place to train?”

  Nightbolt nodded. “Yes. I’d suggest not shooting your eye beams directly at the derrick itself, however. While the well it is attached to is dry, it still has some dried oil on it that could blow us to kingdom come if you’re not careful.”

  I once again looked at the derrick, but this time stepped away. “Are you sure this is the best place to—”

  “Yes, I am,” Nightbolt interrupted. “Anyway, before we start, describe the limits of your powers to me.”

  I still wasn’t sure it made sense to train near a derrick covered with dried oil that could catch fire, but I said, “I can shoot lasers from my eyes. I can adjust their precision, from a pinpoint focus to a wide wave. My visor amplifies the strength of my eye beams, but even without my visor, my eye beams can blow up cars.”

  “Are cars the biggest thing you’ve tried to blow up?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  Nightbolt tapped his chin. “I see. So you can’t shoot lasers from any other part of your body?”

  I shrugged. “That I know of. And I don’t have any other powers, either, so don’t ask me about that.”

  Nightbolt appeared to be thinking over what I told him. “You can probably do a lot more than that, I imagine.”

  “How do you know?” I said. “Rubberman’s already trained me in how to use my powers, which is how we learned the limits I just described to you. If there was anything more to learn, I think we’d have discovered them already.”

  “And how do you think Dennis discovered the full extent of his powers?” Nightbolt said. He jerked a thumb at his chest. “Me. I pushed him to his limits and figured out the full extent of his abilities. He used to think he could only stretch his limbs, but I helped him figure out that he could stretch literally every part of his body.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Well, what else do you think my eye beams can do? Besides blow stuff up?”

  “I have my theories, but we’ll need to test them first,” said Nightbolt.

  He suddenly pointed at a rock in the distance. “See that rock? I want you to shoot it.”

  I turned to look at the rock i
n question. It was probably about five hundred or so feet away from where we stood. It looked big, big enough that I couldn’t have missed it even if I tried.

  I looked at Nightbolt again. “Just shoot it? What’s that going to prove? I already know I can shoot targets, especially ones as big as that one.”

  “I forgot to mention the condition,” said Nightbolt. He held up one finger. “Close your eyes and try shooting.”

  “What?” I said. I put one hand on my visor. “But if I do that, my lasers will have nowhere to go. They might even fry my eyelids or maybe will bounce off and destroy my eyes, if not my brain.”

  “Do you know if that will happen for sure? Have you tried it?”

  “Well, no, but it seems—”

  “Then how do you know your lasers will blind you?” Nightbolt finished. “Maybe they will do something else. Might even make you stronger, for all we know. No way to know until we try. That’s how Dennis learned the extent of his abilities and that’s how you’ll learn yours.”

  I wanted to tell Nightbolt that Rubberman didn’t have to risk losing his eyesight, but Nightbolt did not seem to be in the mood to argue, so I just decided to try. Maybe he was right and something good would come out of it. Or maybe I would finally stop needing to wear glasses because my eyes would explode and make my glasses useless.

  With a reluctant sigh, I focused on the rock. Like I said, it was very big and not easy to miss, but I wanted to make sure I was aiming at it anyway. I didn’t want to miss and hit something else, such as the derrick, for example.

  Once I was sure I had the rock in my sights, I slowly closed my eyes. Soon, I could not see anything, although I still heard the wind blowing around me.

  “Closed your eyes yet?” asked Nightbolt. “Can’t see your face thanks to your visor.”

  “Yes, I’ve closed my eyes,” I said. “What next?”

  “Just shoot your lasers like normal,” said Nightbolt. “Don’t over think it. Over thinking is the bane of all successful superheroes and sidekicks.”

  “What if I hurt myself?”

  “Then it will be an important lesson.”

  I would have opened my eyes to look at Nightbolt in disbelief, but I didn’t want him shouting at me or possibly hitting me over the head for disrespecting him.

  Thus, I focused on charging my eye beams. My eyes began to heat up, as they always did whenever I was preparing a blast. My eyelids wanted to open, but I kept them shut as firmly as I could. My eyes got hotter and hotter, but that was mostly because I hadn’t opened my eyelids. It didn’t hurt just yet, but it was uncomfortable, and getting more so all the time.

  Nonetheless, I was getting genuinely curious about what the effects of firing my lasers with my eyes closed would have on me. I thought it would be just like covering the barrel of a gun and then shooting it, but I was now starting to wonder if it would have different effects. I was about to find out.

  “Ready to fire yet, kid?” said Nightbolt. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

  “Almost …” I said, my voice slightly strained due to the effort I was putting in keeping my eyes closed. “Just a little while longer … a little while longer and—”

  All of a sudden, Nightbolt slapped me in the back hard. The sudden impact caused me to stagger forward. At the same time, it also shattered my concentration, causing me to unleash my eye beams at my eyelids.

  My eye beams bounced off my eyelids and hit my brain. That was the best way I could describe; I couldn’t actually see the process at work, but I could feel it nonetheless.

  But my brain didn’t explode, like I feared. Nor did it get overheated or fried. What happened next was unexpected.

  A shudder ran through my body and my eyes snapped open. I looked at Nightbolt, but I could see him more clearly than before. The not-quite-washed-out stains on his white shirt … the tiny holes in his coveralls … the way his wrinkles stretched whenever he move his lips … it was startling and almost overwhelming.

  “Beams?” said Nightbolt uncertainly. “Are you okay? Your eyes didn’t explode in your helmet, did they?”

  “Yeah, no, I’m fine,” I said. I was panting slightly, even though I’d been standing still for the last few minutes. “I can see you. I can see everything, see everything so clearly. Like watching a high definition movie.”

  “Is that all you feel?” said Nightbolt. “You sound like you’re out of it.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, although even I was aware of the dreaminess in my voice. “I just …”

  All of a sudden, a burst of energy ran through my legs. It felt like my lasers were going through my legs and, with a yell, I leaped into the air. I leaped up higher than I’d ever leaped before, going well above Nightbolt, who could only stare up at me in shock as I soared. I landed on top of the derrick and would have jumped again if there had been anything else to jump onto. As it was, the derrick was the tallest thing in the area, although I considered jumping for the cloudless sky anyway, maybe even jumping into the sun itself.

  “Whoa, kid,” said Nightbolt below. He was looking up at me with one hand on his hat. “Didn’t know you could jump so high. I thought you said you only had the ability to shoot lasers from your eyes, not leap a building in a single bound.”

  That last thing he said—leap a building in a single bound—snapped me out of the madness that had clouded my mind. All of a sudden, I realized I was standing on an oil derrick well above the ground, which afforded a nice view of the surrounding area, but at the same time, my fear of heights kicked in. Gasping in terror, I whirled around, unsure how I got up here, lost my balance, and fell to the ground below.

  I landed flat on my back on the ground. It wasn’t a very far fall, but it still jarred my senses anyway. Gasping, I sat up and rubbed the back of my head. My eyes suddenly hurt, causing them to tear up, tears I tried to blink away. But they just got worse and worse, so I ripped off my helmet and wiped them off with my hands.

  “Well, now,” said Nightbolt, who stood over me with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “Quite an impressive display of power there. What happened?”

  Still blinking away the tears, I looked up at Nightbolt in confusion. “What do you mean, what happened? You were watching the whole thing. You saw everything I did. You know what happened.”

  Nightbolt shrugged. “All I saw was you suddenly gain the ability to jump onto an oil derrick like you weigh nothing. Tell me what happened after you fired your beams into your eyelids.”

  Still rubbing the back of my head, I tried to remember. “Ugh, my memory is … foggy. I remember my lasers bouncing back against my eyelids and into my brain. Then I could see clearly and suddenly felt like I could jump to the moon if I wanted. Felt like my lasers energized my body, made me faster.”

  “Very interesting,” said Nightbolt. “Very interesting, indeed.”

  My eyes had stopped tearing up now, so I looked up at Nightbolt again and said, “What’s so interesting about it? Do you know what this means?”

  “It means your powers aren’t just shooting beams from your eyes,” said Nightbolt, gesturing at his own eyes with two of his fingers. “It means they can give you more power than you know what to do with, even if only for a little while. It seems like your powers can give you brief bursts of extra strength and energy.”

  I perked up. “Does that mean we’re done training for the day?”

  “Nope,” said Nightbolt, shaking his head. He pointed up at the derrick again. “We’re going to try that again. And this time, try not to fall off. I don’t want to have to take you to the hospital because you lost your nerve. We’ll do this all day.”

  Sighing, I nonetheless rose to my feet and dusted off my legs. This was going to be a long day, that was for sure, and an even longer week.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As I expected, the rest of the week was long. Nightbolt kept having me shoot my lasers against my eyelids time and again, forcing me to go into that weird powered up state where I could jump
up onto the oil derrick. We didn’t just train at the derrick, however; we went to the Arena, which was taller than the derrick, and discovered that I could jump up there with no problem as well. We also discovered that my powered up form was faster than I normally was; when I was powered up, I could run from the house to the oil derrick in less than fifteen minutes, although I found it hard to maintain this powered up form for longer than that.

  Nightbolt still wouldn’t say what he thought my actual powers were. All he’d do was observe my actions, give me a few tips to improve my performance, and make vague, unhelpful comments like “Interesting” or “I thought so.” He reminded me heavily of Rubberman, who, like Nightbolt, had this tendency to keep his theories to himself until he had enough facts to share. Maybe that was where Rubberman got that tendency from.

  In any case, by the end of my second week at Nightbolt’s, I was dead tired. While my powered up form always made me feel awake and alert, it always left me exhausted afterward. I always managed to find enough energy to give Greta a call, and sometimes my parents, but even then, most of my calls were pretty short because I just didn’t have enough energy to talk. I would exchange a few words with them, ask how they were doing and how things were in Golden City, but that’s all, and nothing else.

  No news about the Vigilante Legion, according to Greta. It sounded as though the Vigilante Legion, for all of its threats, might very well be nothing more than a paper tiger. I thought about telling Greta about the aliens during our calls, but I decided that Greta did not need to worry about that. I certainly didn’t mention the Rubber Ball to her, either, although I sensed that that came from more of a strangely selfish desire to keep it to myself than anything.

  Because the Rubber Ball was calling out to me. I was always too tired to go down and visit it, of course, and after my disastrous time down there, I didn’t think Nightbolt would let me anywhere near the Basement anymore. Still, I couldn’t deny that the Rubber Ball was calling for me to come and take it. Some days the call was weaker and some days it was stronger; nonetheless, it was always there, like an itch that just doesn’t go away. I would never mention this to Nightbolt, of course, but I thought he might be aware of it, because he was always very careful not to let me near the gun cabinet where the Basement’s open switch was whenever we went to the Arena.