by Lucas Flint
The alien was silent for a long time. So were Camel and I. Even the Dread God’s brain was quiet, anxiously awaiting the decision of one of his followers. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like, to be a god who had to depend on his own followers to survive. Didn’t seem particularly ‘godly’ to me.
All of a sudden, the alien said, “Very well. We will send you two humans back to Earth, along with the Dread God’s brain. We will teleport you back to where we originally abducted you.”
“And you’ll also stop stealing cattle from the people who live there,” I added, remembering the Gonzales family. “And leave Earth in general alone for six months.”
“Six months?” the alien repeated in an enraged voice. “That is—”
“The only offer I’m willing to make, unless you don’t care about your god,” I said. I waved the Dread God’s brain threateningly. “Six months or else.”
The alien sighed. “All right. We shall grant your world a reprieve of six months, but once those six months are up, we shall return for the Dread God’s brain. And we will leave the humans’ livestock alone. We don’t need any more of their livestock anyway, now that the Dread God’s body is complete.”
Lowering the Dread God’s brain, I couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, I had convinced these aliens to spare Earth, at least for six months. It was almost too good to be true, but I didn’t say that aloud because I didn’t want to jinx myself.
“Now, stand as still as you can,” said the alien. “I have your original coordinates entered into the ship’s teleportation device. You will be teleported back to Earth very shortly. Three … two … one …”
With a sudden flash of green light around us, our surroundings changed. Gone were the strange test tubes and glowing green platform of the alien spaceship, replaced by the barren wastes of Los Congrejos and the Arena itself, which looked no different from how it had before we left Earth.
And when I looked up into the sky, I thought I caught a light that wasn’t the sun or a star or any sort of Earth vehicle flying away, although it was probably just my imagination.
CHAPTER TWENTY
One week later …
I sat in the old, abandoned bus stop on the outskirts of Los Congrejos, my suitcase sitting on the ground by my feet. I looked up and down the road, but did not yet see the Rubbermobile, though Adams had called me half an hour ago to tell me that he would be here any minute now to pick me up. It wasn’t very hot today, so I didn’t mind having to wait, although I was also eager to get back home to Golden City, because I’d missed my home a lot since leaving and couldn’t wait to see it again.
Sitting by my side was Nightbolt, with Spike lying at his feet, as if he, too, was waiting for a bus ride. Nightbolt was reading a copy of the Los Congrejos Gazette, which was apparently Los Congrejos’ local newspaper. It wasn’t very thick—just two or three pages—but Nightbolt had been intently reading it for the past half hour or so, ever since we arrived here. He’d informed me that he read slowly, but had better comprehension as a result, unlike kids these days who read too fast and didn’t understand half of what they read. I didn’t know what his definition of ‘slowly’ was, though, because it seemed to me as if he took a second to read one word, though of course I didn’t say that aloud because I didn’t want to get whacked on the head.
I could have sat here and waited for the Rubbermobile on my own, but Nightbolt had insisted that he come with me. He seemed concerned that the aliens would come back and try to kidnap me if I was alone, even though I had already told him about the six months’ ceasefire I’d established with the aliens. He didn’t seem to believe that the aliens would respect even a six second ceasefire, even though we had not seen even the smallest hint of the aliens all week.
It seemed even less likely that the aliens would return to Los Congrejos anytime soon, because when Camel and I returned to Earth, Nightbolt had taken the Dread God’s brain and sent it off to a secret location he assured me was much safer than the Arena. He wouldn’t give me many details about it, mostly because he didn’t want its location to accidentally leak out onto the Internet, but he said it was in the hands of a ‘good friend’ who he trusted with his life and that the aliens would never find it even if they combed the whole planet with a fine-tooth comb.
Camel hadn’t even suggested taking it, despite the fact that it was his job to confiscate such alien objects for the government. He just left Nightbolt’s property and didn’t come back. I heard from Teresa later that he came to her ranch to pick up Jake, who Jose allowed to go, mostly so he wouldn’t get in trouble with the government. Nightbolt also told me that Camel and Jake had been called back to D.C. yesterday, because their mission in Los Congrejos was technically finished now that the aliens had left. I was glad, because even though I’d saved Camel’s life, I was pretty sure he hated me because I’d gotten in the way of his work.
Then again, Camel had thanked me for basically saving the Earth from an alien invasion. He had even told me he wouldn’t be bringing down the full power of the federal government down on me, even though I’d fought both him and Jake. He said it in kind of a weird way, though, like he didn’t want me to think he actually liked me or anything. I thought I might have won his respect, but Camel was a weird guy and I wasn’t sure whether he respected me or envied me for doing his job for him more or less.
As for the Gonzaleses, they were both glad to hear that the aliens were gone and would not be back for six months. Jose, in particular, seemed grateful that I had dealt with the aliens that had been plaguing his family for six years now, while Teresa had once again hugged me and probably would have kissed me if I hadn’t been wearing a helmet. She still didn’t tell me her feelings explicitly, of course, but I could tell that she liked me a bit more than just a friend and that she was going to miss me. I was going to miss her, as well, but not nearly as much as I missed Greta, who I was excited to see after such a long time apart.
All of a sudden, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car engine roaring somewhere in the distance. I looked down the road again and saw a car speeding down the road toward us. Although it was too far away to see in great detail, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the Rubbermobile.
Nightbolt must have heard it, too, because he lowered his newspaper and looked down the road in the general direction the car was coming from. “Looks like your ride is here.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Guess this is goodbye.”
Nightbolt nodded. “Sure looks like it. Don’t worry too much about me. I have a lot of practice saying goodbye to my students.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a joke or not, so I said, “Well, I’ll try to visit again sometime soon. Not sure when I’ll have time off to visit, but—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Nightbolt said. “Just go back home and do whatever Dennis tells you to do. I don’t mind being alone anyway. Actually prefer it, frankly.”
“All right,” I said. I hesitated, but then said, “Nightbolt, I just want to thank you for the guidance and training you gave me over these past four weeks. I feel like I’ve come a long way since the day I arrived, though I also feel like I’ve got a long way to go. Still, with your training, I’m more ready for the Vigilante Legion than I was before.”
Nightbolt suddenly chuckled and then burst out laughing. It was such an unexpected action that I didn’t know what to say. I just stared at him in confusion for a second or two before asking, “What’s so funny? Did I say a joke?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” said Nightbolt. He sighed. “You said almost exactly the same thing Dennis told me when he finished his training, minus the bit about the Vigilante Legion, obviously. Frankly, the two of you are so similar that you’re almost like brothers. Or maybe father and son, though I think he’s a bit too young to be your father.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Depends,” said Nightbolt. “Do you think Dennis is a good superhero or a bad one?”
“He’s a good one, of course.”
“There’s your answer, then.”
“That seems … simple.”
Nightbolt patted me on the shoulder. “Kid, not everything in life has to be complicated. Some things just are. That’s a lesson you’ll learn as you grow older, so don’t ask me to explain it, because it’s not as complicated as it seems.”
I frowned, but nodded again anyway and said, “Okay. Life sure seems complicated, though.”
“It is and it isn’t,” said Nightbolt. “But again, I’m not your father, so you’ll have to learn this on your own.”
It still made no sense to me, but then again, there was a lot of stuff that didn’t make sense to me. I guess Nightbolt was right and I would just learn it as I got older, though that seemed pretty far away.
A few seconds later, the Rubbermobile stopped in front of the bus stop. The passenger’s window rolled down, revealing Adams, who waved at me and said, “Good day, young Beams! I do hope you’re well, because Mr. Pullman has a lot of work for you to do back home and it would not do for us to make him wait longer than necessary.”
I couldn’t help but smile when Adams said that. “Sure thing, Adams.”
I rose from the bus stop and walked over to the car, but then I heard Nightbolt behind me say, “Hey, kid, wait a second.”
I stopped and looked over my shoulder at Nightbolt. He had risen to his feet and Spike also stood, wagging his tail back and forth happily. Nightbolt was digging through the pockets of his coveralls, though what he was looking for, I didn’t know.
“What is it?” I said. “Did you have something to say to me?”
“No,” said Nightbolt, shaking his head. “I’ve actually got something to give you, but damn it if I can’t find it in one of my thousand and one pockets. Ah, here it is.”
Nightbolt drew something out of his pocket and held it out for me. I took the object and looked at it curiously.
It was the alien bracelet which Teresa had originally given us. It was a lot cleaner and shinier than I remembered, as if it had been cleaned recently.
I looked at Nightbolt, puzzled. “Why are you giving me this?”
“Consider it a going away present,” said Nightbolt. “I thought you should have it, mostly because I’m sick of this alien crap, and the fewer things I have around to remind me of those bastards, the better.”
“But I don’t know what it does,” I said, turning the bracelet over in my hands. “Or if it even works.”
“Not my problem,” said Nightbolt. “You can figure that out when you get back home. Who knows, it might even save your life somewhere down the road.”
I figured it would be more likely to cause me more trouble than anything, but I put the bracelet into one of my pockets. “Thanks. I honestly didn’t expect you to give me a gift.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Nightbolt. “Anyway, you take care now, you hear? No point in doing all of this training if you’re just going to get yourself killed fighting some random purse thief on the streets.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” I said. “You, on the other hand, should probably avoid stairs for a while. Don’t want you to fall and break your back, you know?”
Nightbolt rolled his eyes. “Old people jokes. How original.”
I just smiled at that, patted Spike on the head one last time, and then turned and got into the Rubbermobile. Once I put my seatbelt on, Adams turned the Rubbermobile around and went back the way he came.
As the Rubbermobile sped through the barren wastes of West Texas, I looked at the side mirror. Nightbolt and Spike stood at the bus stop, Nightbolt waving at me, the two figures getting smaller and smaller the farther we drove.
Again, I smiled. I didn’t know when or if I’d visit Nightbolt again, but I would definitely remember his teachings, no matter what.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Agent Charlie Camel, agent of the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs, nervously rubbed his hands together under the table. Beside him, Agent Rodney Jake sat with his characteristic silence, though Camel knew Jake well enough to know that he was almost as nervous as him, maybe even more so. Whereas Camel had the tendency to babble or fidget when he got nervous, Jake just became even more silent and withdrawn until he looked more like a stone statue than a human being. Camel sometimes wondered whether it was better to babble or keep your mouth shut whenever you got nervous, because if he’d had a choice, he would have gone silent like Jake, if only because Jake seemed to get in a lot less trouble than him.
Not that it mattered now. Camel had spent the better part of a half hour telling their department head, Cameron Marcos, what happened on that fateful day in Los Congrejos, Texas a week ago. This despite the fact that Camel and Jake had both filed paper reports when they got back to HQ, because Director Marcos preferred in-person briefings to paper reports. Why that was, Camel did not know, and for some reason it bothered him a lot more than it did Jake, even though Jake was far more introverted than him.
Director Cameron Marcos sat across the desk from both of them right now. He was a middle-aged Hispanic man who, as far as Camel knew, had been in the government forever. Some rumors said that Marcos got his start in Area 51, which was why he was placed in charge of the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs, but Camel—despite having worked for the Department for half a decade—had not seen any evidence that Area 51 had anything to do with aliens. Other rumors stated that Marcos was an alien himself, disguised as a human so as not to panic people who saw him. That seemed unlikely to Camel, given how he’d met Marcos’ very human wife at a Christmas party once, but he supposed that perhaps Mrs. Marcos could be an alien, too, and not the illegal kind he saw out in Los Congrejos, either.
One thing Camel did know, however, was that Director Marcos could be even more silent than Jake. Right now, Marcos appeared to be thinking about what Camel had told him about what happened in Los Congrejos. He was stroking his large gray mustache and looking at the documents and papers scattered over his desk, but he wasn’t really looking at them. He was just thinking about Los Congrejos and just happened to be looking at his desk while doing it.
“So the aliens said they would not return for six months,” said Marcos suddenly, looking at Camel as if to confirm it.
Camel nodded, grateful that the silence had been broken. “Yes, sir. Kid made them promise to do it and everything. That kid can drive a hard bargain when he wants to, can’t he, Jake?”
Jake nodded. “And kick hard, too.”
“And you don’t know the current location of the Dread God’s brain,” Marcos said. “Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” said Camel. He leaned forward. “Listen, boss, I know I should have taken it from the kid, but—”
“But you’ve gained a measure of respect for the boy known as Beams,” said Marcos. “You decided to trust him with the brain because you saw he has the heart of a hero, is that it?”
Camel blinked. “Uh, yeah, I guess it is. I wouldn’t put it in such fancy terms myself, but yeah, that’s accurate.”
Marcos nodded. “I can’t say I am upset. It would be better if we knew where the brain was, but Nightbolt spent six years keeping it secret by himself. I imagine he’s hidden it even better than we could, so I see no reason to worry about it right now.”
“What about the aliens?” said Jake. “In six months, they’ll return. And I doubt they will come in peace.”
“I’ve already alerted the President of this news,” said Marcos. “He’s given me the task of working with the military to craft a defense plan for the continental United States.”
“Really?” said Camel. “What is it?”
“None of your concern, because as of next Monday, you will no longer be agents of the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs,” said Marcos.
Camel’s jaw dropped. “What? We’re fired? Why? It’s not because we didn’t get the brain, is it? You just told us that we did the right thing by letting the kid keep it.”<
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“You’re not fired,” said Marcos. “I am simply transferring you to another department where I think you will be more useful.”
“Another department?” Camel and Jake exchanged puzzled looks. “Which one?”
“The Department of Superheroes,” said Marcos. He pulled out two folders and placed them on the desk. “These are the documents you need to present to Director Kent when you move your offices over there, though he’s already aware of and has agreed to the transfer.”
Jake took his folder, but Camel just stared at Marcos in disbelief. “Why are we being transferred? We’ve worked for this department for five years. Why transfer us now?”
“Because the Department of Superheroes needs more agents,” said Marcos. “More specifically, it needs more agents to deal with a coming crisis that Director Kent has informed me of.”
“Crisis?” Camel repeated. “What kind of crisis are we talking ‘bout here? Alien invasion? Natural disaster? Nuclear armageddon? The moon falling out of the sky and squishing everyone?”
Marcos looked at Camel and Jake with utmost serious. “War.”
“War?” Jake said. “What kind of war? And between who? And where?”
“The ‘where’ is Golden City, Texas,” said Marcos. “That’s the base of Rubberman and his sidekick, Beams.”
“The kid?” said Camel. “What kind of war do you think is going to happen there? Does that city have a lot of competing drug cartels or something?”
Marcos shook his head. “If it was only a drug gang war, that would be easy to deal with. No, it is a war between superheroes; or rather, a war between the Vigilante Legion and Heroes United.”
