Savior

by A. King Bradley

  24. POWER

  THE SUSPECT:

  PHASE TWO WAS UNDERWAY. MY SECOND PUBLIC APPERANCE as The Suspect was about to begin and I could not have been more anxious to see my plan unfold.

  I stood silently amongst nine of my Strangers inside the poorly lit boy’s locker room of the Irvington High School Gymnasium. I had decided to bring the big guns for this operation. They were my officers, the enforcers that I could count on to keep the peace within my organization and effectively control any situation in the field.

  Alpha was a seven-foot tall 400-pound mountain of muscle whose presence alone struck fear in the hearts of my adversaries. Charlie was the loose cannon of the bunch. I wasn’t a huge fan of the red paint that he applied to the Greek Comedy mask that he chose to wear instead of the standard issue Stranger mask, or the black cowboy hat that he wore with his all-black Stranger combat gear. His ability to nail any target with that gigantic six-shooter on his hip, however, made him an exceptionally valuable asset.

  Then there was Tango, my right hand man. At only 5’7” he was one of the shortest in the bunch, but he was also by far the deadliest. His only weapons, besides the lethal hands that lay at the ends of his python sized arms, were the two tactical ninja swords held within the sheath strapped to his shirtless back. When The Righteous placed him under my command, I tried to convince him to wear the standard issue Stranger mask, but like Charlie, he preferred to maintain a bit of his individuality. Instead of the emotionless white mask worn by most of my operatives, Tango wore a decorative half-face Venetian masquerade mask that only covered the upper right side of his face.

  Our guests silently stared at us in fear as we stood guard over them. Some of them wept as they gazed into the dead eyes of our masks and contemplated the fate that we had in store for them.

  It was pathetic. They knew what brought them to this point. They had to know that whatever fate I had in store for them was a fate of their own choosing.

  The applause was my signal. The hysterical cheering inside the gym filled the air as the hundreds of Irvington High students that filled the bleachers stood in anticipation of the arrival of our guests.

  As I alone emerged from the locker room, their cheers slowly died. I didn’t bring my rifle because I did not wish to cause panic before I had my chance to address the crowd. A confused hush befell the gym as I walked toward the podium set up in the center of the basketball court. Some of them knew the Greek Tragedy mask that I wore upon my face, but even they remained silent as they prayed that my presence was nothing more than a cruel prank.

  A tall, somewhat thin man with deep blue eyes backed away from the podium as I approached. The students in the bleachers began to clamor as I took the microphone.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My thanks for the warm welcome,” I said, my voice electronically distorted by a device implanted within my mask. The crowd fell completely silent as they watched me.

  I looked to the slender man that had just relinquished the podium to me. “Before I begin, I would like to thank Matthew Conrad for the excellent work that he has done as the PA announcer for all these years. Please give him a nice round of applause for the dedication that he has shown to your Irvington High Broncos!”

  The man’s stare became icy as the crowd applauded him. After a few moments, he stared at the floor as I continued.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I have come to you today in an effort to convey to you the true nature of power.” The crowd had fallen silent again as I paused to add a bit of dramatic effect.

  “As the home of the ten time state champion Broncos, you all know a little something about power, don’t you?”

  Cheering ensued as the student body’s school pride took hold of my words. I waited until their applause died down before I continued.

  “The dictionary says that 'power' is a great or marked ability to act or do and it is because of my understanding of this concept that I now stand before you. Today, we come to take power in circumstances of the greatest conceivable pressure, the pressure of knowing that by not doing so, everything would be lost. Today, we show why if placed in the wrong hands, the unimpeded ability to act or do could lead to the destruction of everything that we hold dear.”

  Hushed chatter filled the room as the picture of a young male cheerleader appeared on the large monitor behind me.

  “Let us take a moment to remember the tragic passing of Brian. He was one of your own. A fellow Bronco… A fellow Bronco driven to suicide by the very players that he cheered from the sidelines!”

  I glared at the crowd through the hollowed eyes of my mask as their chatter increased.

  “I would ask that you all remain seated for the next portion of our demonstration.”

  A scream from the crowd rang out as the Irvington High School Boys basketball team emerged from the locker room. The principal and five other faculty members emerged as well, followed closely by The Strangers who held them all at gun point. Tango’s dreadlocked ponytail swayed with each step as he moved to the front of the pack and led them all to the stage in the center of the court. As our guests took the stage, the crowd’s clamoring grew to an uproar.

  “You’ll notice that your attempts to dial 911 or any other number for that matter are being disrupted. It would be wise to remain seated and quiet lest I trigger the explosives that are planted beneath your bleachers!” I screamed into the microphone as I withdrew a small handheld detonator from my hip pocket. The terrified crowd yielded to my demands and peered at us through frightened wide eyes.

  “Fear not children for you are merely witnesses of the justice that we mean to exact upon the wicked that stand before you,” I said as I dropped to the floor and thrust my index finger at the basketball team and the school officials who now lined the stage.

  “Behold, children, as I now present to you…Power!”

  I glared at each of the players as I spoke.

  “The power to defeat those who would dare oppose their athletic might. The power to win not only games but championships! The power to defeat and trample everything and everyone in their paths…even an innocent male cheerleader who wanted nothing more in life than acceptance!”

  I glanced at Brian’s photo on the display, then glared back at the trembling basketball team.

  “The power to relentlessly torment. The power to torture! The power to punish!”

  I stared angrily into the eyes of the principal whose attempt to hide his fear was failing.

  “And the power to stand aside and do absolutely nothing and allow Brian Conrad to feel so helpless that the only viable solution in his mind to ending the pain was to end it all! You are all responsible for his death!” I bellowed.

  I shot a glance over at the basketball team. “You for the torment that you put him through.”

  I then glanced angrily at each of the faculty members before me. “And you for doing nothing about it. You all had the power to save this boy’s life, yet you willingly chose to end it. You have chosen to abuse your power and therefore that power must be taken!”

  The building was dead silent as I retook the stage. I stood toe to toe with the principal. He was much taller than me but my tactical gear and my badass Tragedy mask made me look much more intimidating.

  “With the authority bestowed upon me, by The Righteous, I hereby relieve you of your power and transfer it to this man.”

  Matthew Conrad took the stage and stood beside me. The principal’s eyes gaped with fear as he stared at the cold eyes of Matthew.

  “Take aim, Strangers,” I ordered. They all trained their assault weapons on the basketball players and faculty members.

  “Matthew Conrad, as Brian’s father, it is you who should ultimately decide the fate of these individuals. As of this moment, their lives are in your hands just as your son’s life was in theirs. We will leave this place at once if you deem them worthy of forgiveness, but if you wish them to befall the same fate as your beloved Brian, you need but give the order.”


  “Matt, think about this! This isn’t what Brian would have wanted!” shouted the principal as sweat drenched his forehead. Matthew’s cold blue eyes seemed to somehow become more frigid as the principal begged for his life. He maintained eye contact with the principal in silence as we all watched.

  “Do it,” he finally said with absolutely no emotion in his voice.

  25. OR DIE TRYING

  ADAM:

  THE REST OF THE DAY SEEMED TO CREEP BY. WITHOUT Monica occupying the seat in front of me, classes just seemed purposeless. I expected her not to show due to the death of her father, but walking into class and seeing her empty seat still stung. I didn’t plan to visit her while she was out of school. I told myself that I was giving her the space that she needed as she coped with the loss of her father, but deep down I knew that I was really afraid that she would take one look and me and know that I was responsible for his death.

  I did my best to tune out the chatter about my alter ego, The Reaper. There were those that thought it was all a big hoax. Those who thought it was real didn’t know what to make of him. Some called him a hero while others considered him dangerous.

  I couldn’t help but laugh when I heard that talk show hosts were on the air lobbying for The Reaper to stop by for interviews. For a moment, I was somewhat intrigued by the commercial potential of my new alter ego, but I buried the idea as quickly as I thought of it.

  HOWIE AND JASON WERE ALREADY AT 3D WHEN I ARRIVED. As I entered, I noticed that they had installed a great deal of new equipment, most of which I knew nothing about.

  I could tell by the look on Jason’s face that Howie had told him my secret. Howie didn’t look at me as my eyes burned daggers in him.

  “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone,” I growled.

  Jason stepped forward. “It’s not a big deal, Adam.”

  “It is a big deal! You couldn’t possibly imagine how big a deal this is!” I shouted.

  “Buddy, I’m on your side! I’m not saying I know what it’s like to be you, but I know what it’s like to be different.”

  I glared at Howie again.

  “Who else knows? Who else did you tell?!”

  Howie remained silent.

  Jason firmly straightened his posture and stood directly in front of me.

  “Adam, that guy right there would do anything for you. So will I! The only reason he told me a thing is because he knows that if you plan on succeeding in taking down The Strangers, you’ll need me. And he knows without the shadow of a doubt that I am the one person he could tell that wouldn’t run straight to the police. We’re all in this together, Adam. Regardless of what you look like or what you can do, you’re never going to be accepted by 100 percent of people in this world, but you can be damn sure that you will always be accepted by 100 percent of the people in this room.”

  Jason always knew the right things to say. Howie breathed a sigh of relief as the tension in the room dissipated.

  Jason and I exchanged a firm handshake. As we looked into each other’s eyes, I pulled him in for a hug. It was in that moment that I realized just how great my friends truly were. I never realized just how much I could count on them until I saw how they each dealt with my secret. I thought for sure that anyone who found out about what I could do would run for the hills. Not only were these two accepting of my abnormal nature, but they were also willing to join me in the trenches despite the fact that they weren’t nearly as durable as I was.

  “The Reaper, huh?” Jason said with a smile as we walked over to the conference table. “I like it.”

  “You don’t think it’s kind of cheesy?” I asked as I took a seat at the table.

  “Are you kidding me? It’s totally badass. Not quite as badass as this though,” Jason said as he reached under the table and quickly tossed something over to me.

  My hands instinctively shot out and caught the item. I stared down at a sleek full-face gas mask. The image of a white skull was painted over the metallic black surface of the mask. Jason was right. It was the most badass thing I had ever seen.

  “I figured you could use an upgrade from the ski mask.” Jason grinned. “Look,” he continued as he pulled out a second mask, “I’ve got one too.”

  His mask was similar to mine except his had an Ace of Spades design painted across the right side and it only had one filter at bottom center instead of two on each side like my mask.

  “So what’s your name?” I asked as I marveled at his mask.

  “That’s easy. I’m Ace,” Jason exclaimed before pointing to Howie, who was now seated at the end of the conference table. “And oh yeah, that’s Echo,”

  “Reaper, Ace, and Echo, huh? So I suppose we’re a crime fighting team now?” I asked jokingly.

  “I prefer Ace, Reaper, and Echo. And yes, we are a team,” Jason replied.

  “Am I supposed to be okay with being last in each billing? And why am I the only one without a cool mask?!” Howie grinned.

  “You want a mask? Cool, I’ll trade you my mask for all of this sweet equipment that you have at your disposal,” Jason replied.

  “Never mind,” Howie said, grinning as he eyed his new toys.

  We all burst into laughter. That moment felt good. I had been through so much turmoil over the past few days that I had almost forgotten the refreshing feeling of an innocent moment of laughter among friends.

  “So, what’s our name?” I finally asked as the laughter died down.

  “We’re the O.D.T.,” Howie said with a huge grin on his face. Something told me he that came up with the name.

  “O.D.T.? What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Officially, it stands for Operational Defense Team, but it also means ‘Or Die Trying,’ because that’s exactly how far Jason and I are willing to go in order to make sure The Suspect pays for what happened to your brother,” Howie said firmly.

  The mention of PJ stung but I held myself together and silently nodded my head.

  “Are you ready for the suits?” Jason asked excitedly.

  “No way!” I exclaimed, excited to see what he had in store.

  In less than twenty minutes we were in our full gear. I was so excited that I wanted to take pictures. My all black body armor and extra long hooded overcoat worked perfectly with the Reaper theme.

  Jason’s sleek black body armor was similar to mine but his was noticeably lighter. The extra long head band that he wore with his combat gear plus the sword sheathed on his hip made him look like the SWAT team version of a ninja. The contrast of his sleek jet-black body armor worked well with the white Ace of Spades painted on his mask. I couldn’t help but wish I had my own katana when he unsheathed the one on his side. All three of us marveled at the beautifully crafted blade as he held it before him. It was so shiny that an almost otherworldly glow seemed to emanate from it.

  “Most impressive,” Howie exclaimed as he replaced his regular glasses with a pair of high-tech “smart” glasses and checked himself out in a nearby mirror. His outfit was comprised of basic body armor and a waist-length, black jacket. I shuttered at the thought of Howie having to fend for himself and hoped that if he ever actually needed his body armor I would be somewhere nearby.

  “I’m guessing we’re getting all dressed up for a reason. What’s up your sleeve, Echo?” I said as I looked at Howie. My mask made my voice sound much deeper and somewhat distorted.

  Howie smiled and took a seat at the main computer near the conference table. It was a colossal mountain of a machine with a display the size of my bedroom.

  As Jason and I watched, Howie logged in and opened several files in a matter of seconds. A seemingly abandoned warehouse in the middle of an old farm appeared on the display.

  “That place looks familiar,” Jason said, his voice electronically distorted by his mask.

  “It should. It’s only thirty minutes away from here,” Howie replied as he continued to type and focus on one of the peripheral screens attached to the main display. He dropped a
line graph from the smaller screen into the larger screen and spun around to face us.

  “What you’re looking at, gentlemen, is what I believe is one of many outposts operated by The Strangers. I found out through an encrypted, online chat room that this may be one of theirs but I wasn’t sure if that was usable info because, as you can see, the structure clearly appears to be abandoned. So, I did some digging and came up with this.” Howie gestured toward the chart onscreen. “This is a graph of the amount of electricity used by this site over the past year. As you can see, for the first four months of the year there was almost no activity, but over the past seven months, their power usage has increased by over 800 percent. It may still look abandoned, but something is going on there. My guess is that most of their activities take place underground.”

  “How can we use this?” Jason asked.

  “It’s not exactly the lead I was hoping for but for now it’s our only connection to The Strangers. We need to get in and get some surveillance equipment planted.”

  “Surveillance? I thought we were supposed to be taking them down,” I grumbled.

  “We will take them down but we have to do it the right way. The Strangers have been around for years, but before now, their most serious crimes were identity theft and credit card fraud. In order to defeat them, we’ll need to take down The Suspect. He’s not only their leader but he’s the reason they went militant. The only way that we’re going to find him is by tracking their movements and communications. As of this moment, they have no idea that we are after them. That gives us a significant advantage, but if we barge in there with no real plan, we lose that advantage.”

  “Fine,” I mumbled. I still wanted to take a more direct approach but I knew Howie was probably right. If The Suspect was their leader, then he was the one that I blamed for the death of my brother. If we had to play it quietly for a bit in order to smoke him out, then I was prepared to do so. At the end of the day I was willing to do whatever it took as long as it ended with my hands around his neck.

  “The Strangers have been busy. Earlier today they executed the entire Irvington High School Boys basketball team,” Howie said.

  “Irvington High? Where’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s a private school located in central Florida, approximately four hours from here.”

  “Anything new on the congressman’s daughter?” Jason asked. Howie spun back toward the computer and began typing again at 1000 words per minute.

  “What’s going on with the congressman’s daughter?” I asked. I didn’t watch much TV and I didn’t own a cell phone or any other device that would have allowed me to follow the news online.

  The picture of a young, blonde, teenage girl appeared on the main screen as Howie typed. Finally, he faced us again. I could tell that he was enjoying himself but it didn’t bother me as much now because I knew that the work he was doing was leading me closer to The Suspect.

  “April Larson, the 17 year old daughter of prominent Florida senator Chuck Larson, went missing shortly after the attack at Irvington High. Survivors of the first Stranger attack at Fox Valley State University reported seeing The Strangers take a few of the dead body’s with them as they fled the scene. What’s interesting about April’s case is that the police are calling it a kidnapping. They’re saying that they have proof that she’s still alive.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble understanding why this is important,” I said, not bothering to mask my frustration.

  “Well, I certainly don’t think it’s a coincidence that she disappeared on the same day that her school was attacked by The Strangers-” Howie started.

  “So, that’s our real mission, is it? You’re gonna have us wasting time, trying to save some girl?” I grumbled.

  “Taking down The Strangers and eliminating The Suspect is and will always be our primary mission, but if we find any information on the girl in the process, I don’t think we should ignore it. Chuck Larson is a very big deal, Reaper. If we can find his daughter, I’m willing to bet that The Suspect is somewhere nearby.”

  I had to remind myself that Howie was a million times smarter than me and I should probably just trust his judgment instead of wasting time by making him explain the logic behind every tactical decision he made.

  “Alright then. Let’s do this,” I suggested. I was getting tired of standing around. I needed to feed the craving for danger and excitement that was still lingering within me.

  “I’ll take my bike. You’ll be okay on foot, Reaper?” Jason asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” I said with a wink. Of course he couldn’t see the wink or my smile beneath my mask. As Jason and I prepared to leave, I popped the collar of my black trench coat and checked myself out in the mirror one last time. The Reaper, I thought as I marveled at how intimidating my outfit looked. After years of being called the Grim Weeper at school, it felt like I had finally reclaimed my name. How could I have ever doubted Howie? I thought.

  This truly was fate. As I tightened the black gloves on my hands, I wondered why I had ever thought otherwise. I was The Reaper and this was my destiny. As far as I was concerned, The Strangers were all dead men and I would be the Reaper that emerged in the end to collect their wretched souls.

  Outside, Jason hopped onto a sweet jet-black sports motorcycle and revved the engine.

  “Race ya!” he said as he looked back at me.

  “As long as you’re okay with second place!” I quipped.

  Jason revved the engine again as Howie approached him carrying a black backpack.

  “You got my stuff?” he asked Howie.

  “It’s in the pack,” Howie said as he handed Jason a black backpack. Jason strapped on the pack and placed both hands on the bike handles.

  “There’s a miniature aerial drone that I designed in there as well. Make sure you deploy it before advancing onto the compound,” Howie said.

  “It’s go time, Boys. Good luck out there,” Howie said while pressing a button on the side of his high-tech glasses, allowing Jason and I to hear his words inside of our masks. He and I locked gazes as he revved the engine of his bike. We both struck out simultaneously, leaving a smiling Howie in our dust.

  The suit fit me perfectly. I was worried that it would restrict my movements once I started to run but to my surprise, I was able to move quite well in it. My long black trench coat fluttered in the wind behind me like a cape as Jason and I zoomed toward the unknown dangers that lay before us.

 

  26. STEALTH