by Lucas Flint
"You're a bundle of sunshine and rainbows, you know that?" I said, putting my hands on my waist. I cocked my head to the side. "By the way, I don't remember asking for your opinion on whether this was a good idea or not."
"You should have," said TW, "because I'm smarter and wiser than you, and not just because I look like Gregory, either. And, knowing your abilities, I can confidently say that we shouldn't be here."
I scowled and looked down at the Trickshot Watch. "There's got to be a button on this thing that turns you off."
"That is impossible," said TW, shaking his head. "As the Trickshot Watch's built-in AI, you cannot turn me 'off.' I have full ability to appear and disappear as I see fit. Furthermore--"
I pressed a button on the side of the Watch and TW suddenly went silent. His lips kept moving, but no words came out of them. He looked funny at first, at least until he realized that no sound was coming out of his mouth and he shut his mouth, looking rather embarrassed.
"Well, that's not quite what I meant by turning you off, but I guess muting will do," I said. "Anyway, I'm going to be late for a meeting, so if you will excuse me, I have to go."
Once again, I walked through TW. This time, he disappeared and did not reappear. Perhaps he had finally accepted that I wasn't going home no matter what. That was good, because the last thing I needed right now was TW distracting me with his insistence that this mission couldn't possibly end well for either of us.
Gotta admit, though, it was rather lonely walking through the large, abandoned car factory on the south side of town. The absence of light meant the interior of the factory was almost pitch black, but luckily my Trickshot goggles provided me with night vision that helped me find my way around here without tripping over car parts and hurting myself.
This car factory had once been owned and operated by Efficiency, a popular car company whose best known vehicle, the Sublime, was owned by lots of different people, including my Dad. In fact, Dad had helped build this very factory when it opened twenty-five years ago, though given how rundown this place looked, you would be forgiven for thinking it had been built fifty years ago instead.
The factory closed down about three years ago due to safety concerns and for some reason had never been reopened. Rumors suggested that Efficiency execs didn't want to pay for the place to be overhauled to fit modern safety standards, but either way, the place had remained abandoned since then. It was surrounded by a big, tall fence with a sign with the words 'NO TRESPASSERS' on the main gate, but my flight powers--which I had some basic control over--allowed me to bypass the fence fairly easily and land on the roof of the factory. From there, I had entered the factory itself, making my way down into the factory in search of the Injectors and their 'customers.'
So far, I had not run into anyone other than myself down here, but that meant nothing. The factory was a big place, after all, and I hadn't even explored half of it yet. I had plenty of time to look for the Injectors and their clients, whoever they were. And with the powers of the Trickshot costume at my command, it would not be hard for me to take them down, especially if I ambushed them.
A part of me wondered if this was a wise move, given how dangerous this mission was, but I pushed all doubts out of my mind in order to focus on the present. I had already made a vow to go to war against the Injectors. If I was going to doubt myself now, I might as well go back. Besides, if this was as simple a transaction as Kyle suggested, then there were probably only going to be one or two Injectors, maybe three at most. Given how I had already beaten twice that many, I was confident that I would be able to handle however many Injectors might be present tonight.
That was when I heard voices somewhere up ahead. I couldn't make out their words, but it sounded like a couple of men talking to each other in low tones. It was probably the Injectors, which meant I was close. I advanced more slowly now, taking care not to make any unnecessary noise so as to not alert the Injectors to my presence.
As I walked along the catwalk, the voices became clearer and more distinct. One of them was an older guy, probably in his thirties or forties, and quite hoarse, kind of like a smoker's voice, while the other was higher-pitched and sounded more like a high school student, though I didn't recognize the voice.
"... Are you sure we're alone?" said the younger guy, who sounded incredibly nervous.
"Of course," said the older guy, who I assumed was the Injector selling this younger guy drugs. "Unless you were stupid enough to let yourself be followed, that is."
"No, I wasn't followed," said the younger guy, his voice still nervous. "I made sure of it. My mom was asleep and my dad is working the midnight shift at his office, so no one in my house saw me leave. No one knows I'm here except for you."
"Good," said the Injector. "I was almost about to ask my silent friend here to check you for any listening devices. You know, in case you're really part of a police sting."
A nervous chuckle left the younger guy. "M-Me? Work for the police? Nah. I don't like those guys anymore than you do. A bunch of bullies, that's what they are, especially toward minorities."
I suddenly realized that I was now close enough to hear their voices coming from directly below me. Crouching low, I peered over the side of the catwalk to see who stood below.
Three figures stood on the ground below me, near a pile of old tires that were covered in dust. Two of them were obviously Injectors. One of the Injectors was a tall, skinny guy with a long, haggard-looking face, while the other was shorter and stouter, built like a brick wall. They both wore the signature red bandannas of the Injectors, though even if they hadn't, there was no way I would have mistaken them for belonging to any other gang or cartel.
Standing opposite them was a very nervous-looking high school student carrying a suitcase in his right hand, probably a senior, though I didn't recognize him. I was a bit disappointed to see that the senior obviously wasn't Ryan Bond, because Ryan was a lot bigger and muscular than this guy. This guy must have been from one of the other high schools in the area, though I couldn't guess which one. He looked kind of dorky, though I couldn't fault him for that given how I wasn't exactly the epitome of cool, either.
"Good on ya, kid," said the tall Injector, the one whose voice sounded perpetually hoarse. "Never trust a cop. If you take away that lesson from all of this, then you will live a pretty good life."
"Yeah, sure," said the senior, who was literally shaking with fear. "Can we just get this over with? I brought the money. I want Power. So why don't we make our exchange and get out of here? I don't want to be out too long in case Mom wakes up and finds out I'm missing."
The tall Injector smirked, which made him look like a ghoul. "You're more afraid of mommy than the cops? Then again, given how rich you obviously are, I guess the cops probably are a lot less scarier to you than mommy, huh?"
"If you insist on insulting me like this, then I'm j-just going to turn around and leave," said the senior, though his quaking voice made his threat sound pretty pathetic. "I'll just get Power from somewhere else."
The short and stout Injector suddenly laughed, prompting the senior to say, in a flustered voice, "What is he laughing about?"
"Probably the fact that you said you would get Power from somewhere else," said the tall Injector, who was still smirking. "Kid, the Injectors own the Power trade. We're what you call a monopoly, though the boss prefers to call us the top dog in the biz. Either way, you have no other way of getting Power and you know it, not unless you plan to steal some Superpower from the feds, anyway."
The senior's face was red with embarrassment now. I would have felt sorry for the guy, but he did seem kind of stuck up and besides he was trying to buy a very dangerous and illegal drug that could kill him. He may have come from a well-to-do family, but he clearly didn't inherit any common sense.
"Now that we all understand where we stand, let's get down to business," said the tall Injector. He nodded at the short Injector. "Paul, show him Power."
The short Inj
ector, apparently named Paul, nodded and pulled a needle out of his jacket, which was covered in a plastic bag. Inside the shaft of the needle was a sickly-looking purple liquid that I easily recognized as Power, the drug which had killed my brother and ruined countless lives all over the country. My anger burned at the mere sight of that crap, but I didn't move just yet.
"That's it?" said the senior in an indignant voice. "That doesn't look like a whole lot."
"It's more than enough to make you the next Alpha Sentinel," said the tall Injector. "Or make you explode, depending on how your body reacts to it. Now show us the cash. We're not going to give you even one drop of Power until you can show us you've got the money."
The senior nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, of course. Here."
The senior dropped his suitcase on the floor before him and, popping open the lid, turned it around for the Injectors to see. From my position, I saw that the suitcase was filled to the brim with 100 dollar bills, neatly pressed and ordered to fit the suitcase without causing it to bulge.
"Ten thousand dollars in cash," said the senior, "straight from my dad's bank account, though of course he won't notice because of how rich we are."
The tall Injector whistled. "Impressive. When you first contacted us, I was skeptical you would be able to scrounge up enough money to pay our price, even knowing who your daddy is. Guess you have more guts than I thought."
"I just want to be strong," said the senior. "And I'm willing to do anything to get it."
"That's the ticket," said the tall Injector. "All right. First, you give us the money. Then Paul will give you your Power and we can go our separate ways."
I wasn't a cop, nor was I an officially licensed superhero, but there was no way I was going to let this transaction go through. If that guy took the injection, he would probably die, while the Injectors would get away with ten thousand dollars in cash. Once I defeated them, I would call the police and let them know about this transaction so they could come and arrest the Injectors themselves.
Gripping the railing of the catwalk, I was just about to jump over the side of the catwalk when TW suddenly said, "Watch out behind you!"
Surprised and confused, I looked over my shoulder just in time to see a fist flying at me. The fist smashed directly into my face, knocking me over the railing and sending me falling to the floor below.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I landed on the open suitcase, sending money flying everywhere, though thankfully most of the money broke my fall. Even so, the impact of the fall left me slightly dazed, while my face hurt from whatever had punched me. My nose didn't feel broken, but it did hurt a lot and I wouldn't be surprised if it was bleeding, because that punch had hurt.
"What the hell?" said the tall Injector. "Where did this guy come from?" He looked at the senior. "You said you came alone."
"I did," the senior said in an increasingly hysterical voice. "I have no idea who this guy is. I've never even seen him before in my life. You have to believe me. I would never even think of double-crossing you, not even once."
Rubbing my head, I sat up and groaned. My back hurt from the impact of the fall, though luckily nothing felt broken.
"Hey, wait," said Paul, the short Injector, who looked at me closely. "Isn't that the guy who defeated Rodriguez and the others last week?"
The tall Injector's eyes widened in surprise. "Paul, I think you're right. Looks just like he does in the picture. That's Trickshot."
I was about to say something snarky about them recognizing me, but then I heard the catwalk creak above me and looked up in time to see something big falling toward me. I instinctively rolled backwards just in the nick of time, because the thing landed on the suitcase right where I had been sitting just moments previously, sending even more hundred dollar bills flying as the new arrival stood up to his full height. Rolling to my hands and feet, I looked up to see who the newcomer was.
I had never seen him before. He was tall and powerfully built, even taller than me. He wore a full-body lime green jumpsuit, with a helmet on his head that resembled a scorpion's face, though the eyes were replaced by a single red visor that wrapped all the way around the head. A long, mechanical, scorpion-like tail hovered over his right shoulder, while twin needles poked out of his wrists like wrist knives.
"Holy crap," said the senior, staring at the newcomer with pure fear in his eyes. "What the hell are you? You don't look like Bug Bite."
"Lethal Injection?" said the tall Injector in surprise. "I didn't know you were going to be here. Did you punch Trickshot?"
The figure nodded without saying a word. His helmet made it impossible to read his face, but based on his body language alone I could tell that he wasn't interested in having a civil conversation.
"Did you say his name is Lethal Injection?" I said, looking at the tall Injector in confusion. "Is he with you?"
The tall Injector nodded, a smirk on his lips. "Yeah. He's the Injectors' official assassin, though few of us have actually seen him. He tends to work alone and in the shadows, but he's very good at what he does. Just ask any of his victims. Oh, wait, you can't, because they're all dead."
I had never heard of Lethal Injection before, but given how the silent, mysterious figure standing before me didn't contradict anything the Injector said, I assumed he was telling the truth.
"If Lethal Injection is here, then I'm guessing he must have somehow guessed you would be here," said the tall Injector. "Looks like the rumors of Michael Jones putting Lethal on the Trickshot case were true."
I looked at Lethal Injection again. I wasn't sure if Lethal Injection was a supervillain--that is, a superhero who went rogue and became a criminal--or if he was just a very strong guy. Given how he had that weird scorpion tail, I figured he probably didn't have any actual powers. Like most Injectors, Lethal probably relied more on weaponry than powers, which was fine by me, because I could handle criminals without powers just fine.
"Nice costume you got there, buddy," I said, "but that green really doesn't--"
Lethal Injection suddenly leaned forward and his scorpion tail shot something hot and burning at me. I jumped backwards and the hot, burning substances hit the floor and immediately started sizzling, eating away rapidly at the concrete like it was paper.
"Oh, and I forgot to mention that good old Lethal here can shoot acid from his tail," said the tall Injector with a chuckle. "The bad acid, not the good kind."
I was going to have to rethink my original assumption that Lethal Injection would be easy to take down. If his tail could shoot acid, then I didn't want to know what the stingers on his wrists could do.
Glancing at the senior, I said, "You should get out of here, kid, because this fight is--"
But the senior was already gone. I can't say I was surprised. He didn't seem like a very brave guy and the appearance of Lethal Injection must have been the last straw.
But I would worry about him later. For now, I needed to take down Lethal Injection and his fellow Injectors before they got me.
"That tail of yours is pretty cool," I said, rising to my feet and dusting myself off. "But I doubt it will help you dodge a tire!"
I picked up two tires from the pile of tires I had seen earlier and threw them at Lethal Injection. But Lethal Injection dodged both of them easily and fired two more bursts of acid at me. I jumped into the air, flying just high enough to avoid the acid, which struck the floor again and ate away at it, leaving a hissing sound which sounded almost like an actual snake.
Lethal Injection began walking toward me, while the other two Injectors started to gather up the money which we had scattered everywhere. Not that I had time to worry about those two, however, because Lethal Injection and his acidic tail were the bigger problem at the moment.
I flew toward Lethal Injection as fast as I could, aiming a punch at his face, but Lethal Injection caught my arm and threw me over his shoulder. I landed on top of an abandoned conveyor belt, nearly cracking my skull on its hardened surface. Shaking
my head, I rolled off the conveyor belt just as Lethal Injection fired another blast of acid at me. The acid struck the conveyor belt and started hissing loudly, but I was already flying back toward the ceiling out of his reach.
My plan was simple: I would take advantage of the darkness of the factory to avoid Lethal Injection's attacks. If he couldn't see me, then he couldn't shoot his acid at me accurately. It was an ingenious plan, at least until I heard more acid coming directly at me, forcing me to duck hard at the last minute to avoid getting a face full of acid.
Looking down, I saw that Lethal Injection was looking directly up at me, already taking aim with his tail again. Damn it. His helmet must have given him night vision like my goggles did. Pretty neat trick, but I had a few neat tricks of my own.
I dove toward Lethal Injection, who fired his acid at me again. But I swerved at the last minute, neatly avoiding the flying ball of acid, and coming at Lethal Injection from his side. He turned to face me, but he was too late to dodge. I swung a punch at his chest, but Lethal Injection held up his tail at the last second, causing my fist to collide with that rather than his chest.
But that didn't stop the impact of the blow from sending him flying. He flew backwards through the air uncontrollably until he crashed through an abandoned crate full of auto parts, smashing through it loudly.
"Ha!" I said, lowering my fist and smirking. "Bet you didn't see that coming, did you?"
"I wouldn't declare victory just yet, Jack," said TW in my head. "He's obviously a strong one, superpowers or no."
"Come on," I said, "that was a pretty powerful punch from me. There's no way he could have survived it."
Just as I said that, the sound of sizzling acid entered my ears and more acid flew out of the darkness at me. I flew into the air, narrowly avoiding the acid, and looked in the direction from which the acid came in disbelief. Lethal Injection rose from the destroyed crate like a zombie rising from the grave. His helmet hid his face, but I could tell that he was pissed.
