A Superhero's Legacy (The Legacy Superhero Book 1)

by Lucas Flint

  "That seems like a big responsibility for a sixteen-year-old boy to take on his shoulders," said TW. "Perhaps too big for someone your age."

  "You yourself said that Grandfather sent me the Watch so I could defend Rumsfeld from a threat," I said. I held up the Trickshot Watch. "And the Injectors are definitely a threat to Rumsfeld, no matter how many there are."

  TW frowned, as if he was not entirely convinced about that, but I didn't care. It wasn't like TW could stop me. Even if he tried, I would just stop him, because I had zero interest in hearing him or anyone else tell me how I should use these new powers when I knew quite well what to use them for.

  "Be that as it may, it will be a while before you are fully ready to handle the Injectors in a fight again," said TW. "You still need to learn to master your powers, as well as gain some real fighting skills."

  "How long will that take?" I asked.

  "No idea," said TW. "It all depends on how much effort you put into it. You've already displayed a small amount of talent, but you are still quite a ways off from being ready to take on the Injectors in a fight again."

  I bit my lower lip, but said nothing about that. TW was right. If I wanted to fight the Injectors again, I would just have to work even harder than I already was in order to master my powers faster. By the time I was done with my training, I would definitely be a force to be reckoned with, one that would make even the Injectors shake with fear. Of course, if the Injectors were smart, they'd be afraid of me already, but no one ever said those guys were smart.

  My phone started ringing in my pocket. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, saw that Mom was trying to call me, and answered the phone, saying, "Hi, Mom, what's up?"

  "Jack, are you all right?" said Mom in a worried voice. "Are you and Kyle safe?"

  "Me and Kyle--?" I said before I remembered the excuse I gave Mom earlier and quickly said, "Uh, yeah, we're okay. What's the matter? Has something bad happened? Did the Injectors attack again?"

  "No," said Mom, "it doesn't really have anything to do with the Injectors, but it also does have something to do with them."

  "Mom, you're not making any sense," I said. "Look, you're obviously letting your emotions mess with your thinking, so I'll just hang up and head back home and we can talk there, okay?"

  "You should come back home, but I still need to tell you about what I just learned first," said Mom. "The police called to follow up on the Injector attack yesterday."

  I frowned. "Why would they feel the need to follow up again? I already spoke to that Christina lady. What else could we possibly tell them? Did any of the guys they arrested spill the beans on the Injectors' plans?"

  "No," said Mom, "at least, not as far as I know. I told them what you told me, about Christina coming over to our house for the interrogation, but they were surprised to hear it."

  "Surprised?" I said. "Why? If Christina works for the police--"

  "That's just the thing, Jack," said Mom, fear rising in her voice. "The Rumsfeld City Police Department had a Christina Madison working for them as a detective ... ten years ago."

  "Wait, you mean the woman we spoke to is retired?" I said, glancing at TW worryingly. "And they didn't know it?"

  "Not retired," said Mom. "Dead. The real Christina Madison died ten years ago in a car accident while chasing down a suspect. The woman who spoke to us and interrogated you ... she's not with the police at all."

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  That Monday, when the lunch bell rang, I was among the first students to leave my classroom and get my lunch from the cafeteria. I wasn't particularly hungry, because I'd had a big breakfast of bacon and eggs before I left for school this morning, but I just wanted to make sure I got my table, which was in the upper right corner of the room away from all of the entrances. That was where Kyle and I normally ate lunch, but it was even more important that I get that spot than normal, because I wanted to be able to keep an eye on all of the entrances, exits, and windows of the cafeteria.

  Looking around the large cafeteria that was rapidly filling with hungry students, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. There was Ryan Bond with his girlfriend Steph, as well as his other jock friends, getting lunch at the cafeteria; near the main entrance was Mrs. Helga, the English teacher who also pulled double duty as the cafeteria security; and out the window, I saw the large oak tree which had been planted in front of Rumsfeld High over a century ago, which was a favorite eating place for a lot of students due to how shady and cool it was.

  Everything looked as it should, but I didn't let my guard down whatsoever. As I started to eat my soup, I thought about the conversation I'd had with Mom back on Saturday about the mysterious Christina Madison.

  According to Mom, the last Christina Madison who worked for the Rumsfeld City Police Department had died ten years ago during a car chase. Furthermore, the police confirmed that no one with that name was currently working for them, much less as a detective whose job was to follow up on these kinds of cases. That meant that someone had impersonated Christina Madison and used a fake police badge to trick us into letting her into her home to talk about a case that the police were still investigating themselves.

  At this point, no one knew for sure who this 'Christina Madison' lady really was, but I was already assuming the worst: Namely, that 'Christina' was an Injector agent who was trying to find out who Trickshot really was. It was very probable that the Injectors were looking for Trickshot in order to avenge their friends who were currently rotting away in prison, because the Injectors were well known for forgiving those who harmed them.

  I had gotten really lucky by not revealing to Christina who I really was. Even so, I had become somewhat paranoid ever since Saturday, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs that the Injectors were following me. Every bustling bus, every creaking tree limb, every footstep behind me would make me jump or look twice, only for it to turn out to be nothing other than a cat or another person. This paranoia wasn't doing me any good, but at the same time, I felt like I couldn't be too careful, because I'd heard a lot of stories about how the Injectors kill people they don't like and I didn't want to be another one of those stories that circulated in my high school.

  Yes, I had the Trickshot Watch, which meant that I was not nearly as defenseless as most people, but at the same time, I wasn't invincible. The Injectors got a glimpse of my power when I took out all seven of their men, which meant that they were probably packing more power than normal in order to take me down. I would be safe as long as they never suspected me of being Trickshot, but if they ever found out my identity, then I would be in for the fight of my life.

  "Hey, Jack!" said Kyle suddenly, dropping his tray on the table and plopping down in his seat directly in front of me with his usual cheerfulness. "When I saw you get out of class earlier, I thought you really needed to use the bathroom, but when I saw you in the cafeteria, I realized that you just wanted to get here before everyone else. Not that I blame you, 'cause lines suck, especially lines for school lunches."

  I almost started when Kyle sat down, but then realized who he was and sat back down on my seat. "Sorry about that. I just, um, wanted to get the best stuff before everyone else gobbled it up."

  "Hey, I'm not blaming you," said Kyle as he opened his soda can and sipped it. "I should have done what you did, but I got caught up discussing whether or not Superpower would give the same power to twins with Mr. Ferguson."

  Mr. Ferguson was the science teacher who had also been a Superpower scientist in his youth. It didn't surprise me to hear that Kyle had been talking with him about that subject. Kyle, after all, wanted to become a Superpower scientist himself someday.

  "So what did you two figure out?" I said as I scooped up some mashed potatoes from my plate. "Yes or no?"

  "We didn't figure out anything," said Kyle. "Mr. Ferguson said that there hadn't been a case of twins being injected with Superpower, despite how long the drug has been in use, but he did give me a link to a new study on siblings who w
ere both injected with the drug. Not quite the same thing as twins, but I guess the same principle more or less applies, huh?"

  "Right," I said, glancing toward the entrance again. "Maybe that's something you can study when you become a scientist."

  "Eh, why not?" said Kyle with a shrug. "It might lead to new breakthroughs in the science of Superpower. If that happens, don't worry. I won't forget you or any of the other little people who supported me, though I'm going to have to charge you for an autograph if you ask."

  I rolled my eyes, but saw something out of the corner of my eye and looked to the right. Two students sat at a table not far from ours with a tiny red laser dot, which they were using to tag a guy sitting at the table next to theirs. The guy didn't seem to notice, because he was too busy stuffing his face with food, but the two girls were giggling at the red light, which they flashed on and off rapidly.

  "What are you looking at?" said Kyle. He looked in the direction I was looking and frowned. "Just a couple of girls being girls. Not sure what's so interesting about them."

  "Uh, nothing," I said, looking back at Kyle. "I just thought I saw something."

  "Like what?" said Kyle in between French fries. He paused and smiled. "You didn't think you saw Debra, did you?"

  "I ... what?" I said.

  "Debra Ackerman," said Kyle. "You know, the girl you're head over heels in love with?"

  I looked around the cafeteria again when he said that and noticed Debra immediately. She was still in line with her friends, laughing and joking about something I couldn't hear over the sounds of the cafeteria, but even from a distance, she looked really beautiful, especially her green eyes.

  But then I shook my head and looked at Kyle. "It's not Debra. I'm just ... it's nothing."

  Kyle smirked. "Come on, Jack. I know you well enough to know when you're lying. You're clearly afraid of something and, unless you're just really paranoid, I bet it's something real."

  "Real?" I said. "What do you mean?"

  "Like the Injectors," said Kyle. "Or Principal Jacob, though given how the Principal is currently at home because of the flu, I'm thinking the Injectors are more likely."

  "How could you tell?" I said.

  "Because you survived the Injectors," said Kyle. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "And if there's one thing I know about the Injectors, it's that they don't like anyone who manages to escape them, even if you weren't the one who beat up all those guys."

  I slumped slightly. "You're right. I've been worried about the Injectors attacking me if I let my guard down, and not just because I survived that one attack, either."

  I told Kyle about my encounter with Christina Madison and the subsequent phone call from the police that proved she was a fake.

  Behind his large glasses, Kyle's eyes grew wide with worry. "Uh oh. That doesn't sound good."

  "It's not," I said. "And I suspect that this woman, whoever she really is, works for the Injectors. They're trying to find the guy who saved me so they can kill him, but I bet they're going to try to kill me, too."

  "No doubt," said Kyle. "By the way, do you know who saved you yet? I've heard rumors from all over, but no one seems to agree."

  I hesitated, wondering whether to tell Kyle about Trickshot or not. I didn't see any harm in telling him who saved me, because it wasn't like admitting that I was Trickshot.

  So I said, "It was someone dressed up as Trickshot."

  "You mean the rumors about Trickshot saving you are true after all?" Kyle repeated. "Wasn't that your grandfather's superhero identity?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. Don't ask me how this guy got my grandfather's costume, because I don't know."

  "Maybe it actually is your grandfather," said Kyle, leaning forward excitedly. "Maybe he's finally came back from wherever he disappeared to in order to save you from the Injectors. Did he look like your grandfather?"

  "Not really," I said. "He's ... different. Someone else. My actual grandfather is probably too old to fight anymore anyway. It has to be someone else."

  "If you say so," said Kyle, leaning back again. "Still, this is wild. Someone is running around Rumsfeld wearing your grandpa's old costume, maybe even with his same powers, and he's taking down the Injectors left and right."

  "He's just taken down seven of them so far," I said. "Not exactly the same as taking down all or even most of them."

  "I know, but it's still great news to hear," said Kyle. "If there are two superheroes in Rumsfeld, then that makes it twice as likely that the Injectors will be taken down. The only question I have is whether or not this new Trickshot has a superhero license."

  "Probably not," I said. "Bug Bite is supposed to be the only licensed superhero working in Rumsfeld. If there was another, we'd definitely know."

  "So he might be an illegal superhero, too?" said Kyle. "Man, the plot just thickens, doesn't it?"

  "It does," I said. "And maybe not in a good way, either."

  "We'll see how it develops," said Kyle. "Personally, though, I have a good feeling about this new Trickshot. If his first public act is saving a high school student from a bunch of Injectors, then he has to be good for the city, right?"

  "Of course," I said. "I just wish that I didn't have to worry about the Injectors coming after me. I mean, I don't think they actually will, given how I'm not nearly as big a threat to their operations as Trickshot is, but still."

  "True, but as long as you're careful, you should be fine," said Kyle. "Maybe you could ask the police to patrol the streets around your house for a while, at least until the Injectors are no longer a threat."

  "I'll have to mention that to Dad," I said. I ate a spoonful of mashed potatoes and swallowed. "It's a good idea, though given how dangerous the Injectors are, I'm not sure if it would be of much use."

  "It's just a suggestion," said Kyle with a shrug. "If you really wanted to find out if the Injectors are after you or not, you could always ask."

  "Ask?" I said. "Ask who?"

  Kyle suddenly looked down at his French fries, like he had just said something he wasn't supposed to. "Oh, it was nothing. I was just thinking aloud, that's all."

  "No, Kyle, you obviously meant what you said," I said. "Who should I ask if I want to find out if the Injectors are after me or not?"

  Kyle looked around quickly, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us, and then leaned forward and whispered, "I heard on the grapevine that some of the students here are going to meet with some Injectors to buy some Power."

  "Which students?" I said. "And when is this meeting?"

  "I'm not entirely sure who, but I think it might be Ryan and one of his friends," said Kyle, glancing over his shoulder at the table where Ryan and his friends sat eating and laughing with each other. "And it's supposed to be tonight at midnight in the old car factory that shut down a few years ago. Supposedly, Ryan and one of his friends are going to buy some Power from the Injectors."

  "Why would they do that?" I said incredulously. "They were threatened by the Injectors on the bus just like us. Why would anyone be stupid enough to do that?"

  "I'm not sure," said Kyle. "Like I said, I just heard about it on the grapevine. It might not even be true. It's connected with the rumors that Ryan is the one who had the thing that the Injectors were looking for when they stopped the bus."

  I looked over at Ryan's table. Ryan's back was to me, so I couldn't see his face, but his physical gestures and tone told me that he was his usual boisterous self. I guessed that he didn't let something like having his life threatened by drug dealers to be that big of a deal, or maybe he was just hiding it. Regardless, I found it hard to believe that even someone as dumb as Ryan would be stupid enough to buy Power from the Injectors, especially after Mattis got arrested for it.

  "And you think I should go to that meeting and ask the Injectors politely if they're trying to kill me?" I said, looking at Kyle in disbelief.

  Kyle held up his hands defensively. "Like I said, I was just thinking out loud. It would be extremely st
upid of you to go to any meeting with the Injectors, whether alone or with someone else. The smart thing to do is to avoid going into any dark alleys and try to stay close to home as much as possible."

  I nodded and returned to eating my mashed potatoes, thinking about what Kyle said.

  Yes, it would be smarter--or at least safer--to stay home tonight and not go and do anything dangerous. The Injectors were cold-hearted killers in addition to being ruthless drug dealers, and if they saw me, they'd kill me probably without even thinking about it.

  But the brave thing would be to don my Trickshot costume and head out to the old car factory tonight without telling anyone. Regardless of who was going to this meeting, this would be my chance to get closer to locating Michael Jones. If I was lucky, Jones himself would be there tonight.

  And if I wasn't ... well, beating up Injectors was quickly becoming my favorite pastime anyway.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "We shouldn't be here."

  "I know."

  "We shouldn't be here."

  "Great insight. Really original."

  "We shouldn't be here."

  "You sound like a broken record."

  "And you sound like you are going to get yourself killed."

  I stopped and frowned. "I'm the one in charge here, TW. Not you."

  TW suddenly flashed into existence before me, his arms folded in front of his chest and his lips turned down in a disapproving frown. "It doesn't change the fact that we shouldn't be here. You are not ready for another battle with the Injectors, especially not so soon after your first one."

  I walked straight through TW, who, being a hologram, was unable to stop me. "Yeah, whatever. Could you please whisper? I don't want them to overhear us."

  TW suddenly flashed in front of me again, forcing me to stop once more. "It doesn't matter if I'm whispering or not. What matters is that we shouldn't be here. This is pure foolhardiness that will only end in your failure at best and your death at worst."