by Andy Briggs
“End of the line, Tempest!”
Doc Tempest’s face dropped in shock. All eight monitors swiveled to face the intruders. Although none of the faces were discernible, the variety of oddly shaded silhouetted heads sent a shiver of fear down Lorna’s spine. Tempest then saw Toby and Lorna and he glowered.
“You! Come a step closer and I swear I’ll kill your mother!”
“Intruders!” shouted one of the screen entities in a gurgling voice. Immediately a siren whooped throughout the ship.
Doc Tempest pushed both hands forward and a mass of shimmering ice shot toward the group. In the blink of an eye, Chameleon leaped toward the wall of the room, his whole body transformed into a slender, yellow-scaled lizard, his face a bizarre hybrid of lizard and man. With his sharp reptilian claws he skittered effortlessly up the wall.
The children didn’t have time to run. Lorna pushed forward and silently hoped she had selected the right power. A giant bubble blossomed around them, protecting them as the ice smashed harmlessly against it. It took all of Lorna’s concentration to keep the shield in place for those few seconds. Her legs trembled and the moment she hesitated the bubble popped—shattering the ice that had formed across it.
Tempest’s gaze followed Chameleon across the wall, the monitors swiveling to watch his progress too. Tempest fired a volley of electrical bolts from his fingers and tore the ceiling behind Chameleon—accidentally blasting two of the monitor arms, sending them crashing to the floor in a shower of sparks. Chameleon, who was holding on to one of the arms, fell with it.
An automated voice echoed across the ship. “Intruder alert! Beginning auto-destruct. Waiting for confirmation.”
“No!” screamed Tempest. “Not destruct, you idiots!”
As Doc Tempest knew, Council of Evil technicians were notoriously bad at maintaining equipment and labeling the correct buttons. Back at Tempest’s base, the lax Council staff always got auto-launch and autodestruct the wrong way around. They had even marked the manual-override buttons incorrectly.
The entire structure rumbled, throwing Lorna to the floor. Toby gripped the doorjamb for support. Doc Tempest had Chameleon pinned by the throat, a look of murder contorting his face.
“This will teach you to spy on me!”
Tempest’s fingers turned white as frost clung to them. The frost spread out across Chameleon’s throat, and up toward his head. Chameleon’s reptilian form sprang back to his regular human shape, but Tempest didn’t relinquish his grip as the frost spread. Chameleon lashed out in panic, smashing Tempest’s wristband from his arm. The electronic gadget skittered across the room as the ship lurched to one side. The display read: “CONFIRM AUTO-DESTRUCT: YES/NO”—just as it bounced, hitting the “yes” option.
“Auto-destruct sequence activated!” said the measured electronic voice.
Toby and Pete lunged forward—their combined weight shoved Tempest off Chameleon. The three of them slid into the wall as the floor tipped beneath them.
“We’re taking off,” Emily shouted.
Toby nimbly sprang on top of Tempest and gripped his collar.
“Where’s my mother?”
Tempest flashed his fanged teeth and grabbed Toby’s hands—the touch was intensely cold and needles of pain shot up Toby’s arms before they went numb.
Tempest threw him off, and he effortlessly shoved Pete away as he climbed to his feet.
“You all will die here!” snarled Tempest—then rapidly clapped his hands like a spoiled child. “Isn’t that great?” he whooped before spinning toward the doorway.
Emily barred his path, her hands already glowing from forming the energy bolas. The whole ship shook violently as if they’d hit severe turbulence, and Emily lost her balance as the bolas spun out. Tempest bent backward and they passed inches over his head and slammed into the wall.
“Not today, little girl,” he sneered, and he raced from the room.
Toby rubbed warmth into his hands but still couldn’t feel anything. Chameleon sprang to his feet, massaging his throat. He hoisted Pete up.
“We have to leave,” Chameleon said in a hoarse voice.
Emily and Toby pulled Lorna to her feet. They ran into the corridor as the sound of tearing metal reverberated through the ship. Cracks ran across the floor and ceiling and they all stopped in their tracks. The corridor ahead suddenly disappeared, a massive chunk of the ship ripping away in front of them, revealing nothing but twilit sky.
The craft was self-destructing in the air—the ground spinning far below. The sky was full of flaming debris as the ship fell apart. Flying through the falling wreckage would be like navigating through a minefield.
“We’re trapped!” wailed Pete.
“Grab on to me!” screamed Chameleon as another section of the floor ahead gave way. “All of you, think of Toby’s house. Imagine it in your minds now!”
Everybody latched on to Chameleon as the roof was torn away in a fiery explosion. Toby scrunched his eyes and heard an explosive thunderclap, and a wave of dizziness struck him.
When he looked around he saw that they were all lying in his backyard, the familiar oak tree behind them.
“What happened?” Lorna asked as she got her bearings.
“Teleportation,” Emily answered knowingly.
Chameleon stood up, dusting himself off. “The Council initiated a self-destruct sequence. We had to get out of there. Is this where you live?” he asked with a note of doubt as he studied the remains of the house covered in plastic sheeting.
“Yeah,” Toby answered. “That’s my home. What’s left of it.”
Chameleon gave Pete and Toby a look of gratitude. “You saved my life back there. If it weren’t for you two, Tempest would have killed me for sure. You really do have the courage of a hero. All of you.”
“Anytime,” said Pete, trying to stand as heroically as possible despite feeling completely nauseous.
Chameleon turned to go, then seemed to be distracted by the remains of Pete’s improvised superhero costume. “But I think you should reconsider your outfit.” Lorna and Emily giggled, as Pete blushed.
Toby sighed deeply, making Chameleon hesitate. “So we’re on our own again?”
“You have the Hero.com community at your fingertips. You’re not alone.”
“Feels like it. We seem to keep failing.”
Chameleon looked at each of them. “You have come from being ordinary people, with ordinary lives, and you are slowly becoming true heroes. It’s a path with many obstacles ahead and many challenges to face. But you must remember that being a hero is not about winning or losing. It’s about courage and doing the right thing against the temptation to take the path of least resistance. When you have faced that final challenge, then you will have risen to the status of hero.”
Toby mulled over the words.
Chameleon continued. “I’m sorry we couldn’t apprehend Tempest today. But I assure you, the moment I discover anything about the location of your mother, I will let you know.”
He teleported away with a bang.
Toby looked at his friends dejectedly. “What a complete waste of time that was.”
“Oh, it hasn’t been a complete waste,” said Pete. “I think we’ll be able to track Tempest, without Mister Know-It-All, if we get this thing working.”
He held up Doc Tempest’s broken wristband.
Sarah Wilkinson sat in a railcar that shot through a tunnel system. She was starting to feel weak. After pleading with a soldier, she got word to Tempest that she needed her insulin shots. But he was unsympathetic to her condition.
A bored-looking guard sat opposite Sarah. He seemed more intent on pulling at his tight uniform, which was riding up his butt, than anything else. At one point the dark walls of the tunnel gave way to glass and she saw an awe-inspiring view: an immense snowfield stretching as far as the eye could see. Then they were plunged back into darkness.
She had been kept in the hangar for almost two hours while the guards patc
hed up the damage caused by the superheroes. She was glad of the change of surroundings, but it was no more than a minute before they arrived at their destination. The guard shoved her up a corridor carved from solid ice, metal grids on the floor preventing Sarah from slipping. She shivered against the cold, but noticed small heating ducts were blowing in warm air. She was led to a small cell, furnished with nothing but a bed and a single fluorescent tube for light. The guard uncuffed her hands and shoved her inside.
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, no longer feeling scared, but angry. She thought of her husband somewhere out in Mexico, and then Lorna and Toby. She hoped somebody was looking after them. They surely couldn’t look after themselves.
Toby was tired but couldn’t sleep. He was worried about his mother—not just how they’d get her back, but also about her insulin. Without it she could die.
Through heavy eyelids, he examined Doc Tempest’s digital wristband. He wondered how they could use it to find his mother, but no matter how much he poked and prodded he couldn’t get the thing to work. He put it down and lay flat on the uncomfortable air mattress; what he wouldn’t give to be back in his own bed … with his mother safely home.
Staring at the array of posters on Pete’s wall, strategically positioned to hide the peeling wallpaper, Toby felt a wave of regret about every argument he’d ever had with his mother. At the time the fights seemed justified and important—but in the grand scheme of things he could now see every argument was just a waste of time. And if they didn’t rescue her and Tempest killed her … then he would never have the chance to say sorry.
He refused to cry. Instead he listened to the elephantlike snores coming from Pete and, for the first time, he envied his friend. Pete’s parents might always be struggling for money, but at least they were safe and sound and not in the hands of a megalomaniac.…
Lorna couldn’t sleep either. She had her own room at Emily’s, which was comfortable, but it wasn’t home. Lorna realized that she was feeling homesick. She climbed out of bed and crept downstairs into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. She was surprised to find Emily already at the kitchen table, staring thoughtfully at her own drink.
“Can’t sleep,” said Lorna. She didn’t have the strength for a more detailed explanation.
“Me neither. I just kept going over today’s events in my mind. It didn’t seem so scary at the time … but now, I feel terrified, being up there as the ship broke apart …”
Lorna poured her drink and sat opposite her friend. They both kept their voices low so they wouldn’t wake anyone.
“I guess it hasn’t sunk in for me,” said Lorna. “Not yet anyway. I just keep feeling … responsible for everything that’s happening to Mom.”
Emily shook her head. Her parents had raised her to see the world logically. She knew that with hindsight anybody could blame themselves for almost anything. Why hadn’t they been at home to stop Tempest? Why did they download the superpowers in the first place? The list was endless, but Emily knew they could only act now to affect the future.
“You’re not responsible, Lorn. Doc Tempest is. And we are going to save your mom. No matter how difficult it’s going to be.”
Lorna managed a smile. Even though Emily was wearing ridiculous pink pajamas, she still made sense. Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring a new, unexpected adventure. And, hopefully, a step closer to ending her nightmare.
Toby was forced to go to school by Pete’s parents, who were finally insisting that it would be “good for him.” Toby sensed that he was getting on their nerves. He suspected too that they normally spent their time arguing, and not being able to do so in front of him was adding to the strain.
At lunchtime Toby and Pete sat in the corner of the cafeteria, picking at their food as they examined Tempest’s wristband. No matter how they pressed and poked, nothing seemed to activate it. Pete placed it on his wrist to see if it would suit him, and suddenly it lit up like a Christmas tree.
“What did you do?” asked Toby.
“Just put it on. Maybe that powers it?”
The broken screen flashed the message: “STORM ENGINE: FULL THROTTLE.”
“Storm Engine?” echoed Pete. “Isn’t that what Tempest called his weather-control machine?”
“At least we know this thing is still connected to his network. It’s too bad we can’t find a way to make it stop the Storm Engine. But I bet if we can somehow trace the signal, we can find my mom.”
Pete was keeping a watchful eye out for Jake Hunter and his gang, who were all mercifully absent. He noticed Lorna and Emily approaching. They looked more cheerful than they should be. They sat in the plastic seats opposite and whispered conspiratorially.
“We’ve found Tempest!” stated Lorna.
Toby held the fork halfway to his mouth, the food now forgotten. “Where? How did you do that?”
“He’s heading toward Florida,” said Lorna in a harsh whisper. “Em and I had an IT lesson, so we checked out the Internet news. That’s when we saw the hurricane!”
“It formed unnaturally quickly and is moving faster than anything else on record,” Emily added in breathless excitement. “Almost like it’s been artificially created!”
Pete’s eyes went wide and he showed them the activated wristband. “The Storm Engine! That’s how he created the tornado and hurricane!”
“Which he then uses as cover for his attacks,” Toby added thoughtfully. “What’s in Florida?”
“Disney World. Some great roller coasters,” said Pete.
“Not the kind of thing you’d expect Tempest to steal, though,” said Toby.
“Does it matter?” snapped Lorna. “Point is, we know where he’ll be! Find him, we can find Mom!”
Toby nodded, feeling the sudden fire of adventure in his stomach. It was Pete’s voice that brought him back down to earth.
“One problem—we’re in school. We can’t possibly leave now.”
“Why not?” asked Toby.
“It’s not right! I felt bad enough skipping yesterday. If we get caught—”
“We need to find Tempest in order to find our mother!” Toby shot back, a little louder than he intended, attracting attention from the kids around them. He lowered his voice. “If we went to the police they wouldn’t believe us, and right now the only thing that has been useful is Hero.com. We have to skip the afternoon. After all this is over, we can explain and people will understand.”
Pete looked doubtful. “If my parents found out, they wouldn’t be so understanding. Trust me on that. Maybe I should stay here?” Pete closely examined the wristband, avoiding everybody’s gaze. He didn’t dare look up. He was feeling torn between not risking antagonizing his parents—who seemed to be less a part of his life than his friends—and the selfish fact that he was afraid of getting hurt. Years of being at the end of Jake Hunter’s fist had made him a coward.
Toby looked at his friend in shock. This was the second time Pete had needed persuading, and he was beginning to doubt the strength of their friendship. “You’re not going to help? We need you! We’re a team!”
Emily grabbed Pete’s arm. “Pete, please. This is for your friends! Toby’s right. We need you.”
Pete looked at Toby, whose face was grave, and then to Lorna, who nodded encouragingly. Drawing a deep breath he nodded, making his decision against his own better judgment.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Toby exhaled a long breath and patted Pete on the back, but he couldn’t summon the words to thank him.
The four of them got up and cleared the table before discreetly heading toward the school gates. Freedom was just a few more steps.
“Toby Wilkinson!” a deep voice shouted.
Toby froze mid-stride. It was the principal, Mr. Harris. He must have been in his late fifties, and was shaped roughly like an egg. When his voice boomed across the school, it was usually because somebody was in trouble. Mr. Harris walked over to them, wheezing heavily, his hand raised in the air like he was a
bout to hail a taxi.
“Sir?” Toby said as casually as he possibly could, and wondered if the man had some kind of truant radar.
The principal scrutinized the motley crew as he caught his breath. Like a magician’s trick, a handkerchief appeared in his hand and he dabbed the sweat from his brow. “Ah … the Wilkinsons. I see you’re heading … um … home. I mean … wherever it is that you’re both staying.”
“Um …,” was all Toby could manage. What could he possibly say? That they were on their way home to download superpowers, in order to stop a supervillain from destroying Florida with his Storm Engine, so they could rescue their kidnapped mother? Somehow, Toby thought, Mr. Harris wouldn’t believe him.
“Good,” said Mr. Harris.
It took a moment for Toby to process what he’d just heard. “Good?”
Mr. Harris didn’t hear as he dabbed his brow again. “Your father has both Emily’s and Pete’s numbers, and he was very eager to speak to you both.”
Lorna stepped forward. “You heard from Dad?”
“Yes, of course,” said Mr. Harris, a sudden crease of suspicion forming on his sweaty brow. “I thought you knew, that’s why you’re—”
Toby seized the moment. “Of course, Lorn. I just didn’t want to tell you, in case you got overexcited. He called, isn’t that right, sir?”
Mr. Harris nodded. “Yes, yes. Well, go on. Don’t keep him waiting!”
It was now obvious to Toby that his father was not a superhero—otherwise he would have flown to their aid. And he saw little point in talking to him now that they seemed close to tracking their mother down. By the time they had arrived at Pete’s house both Toby and Pete had decided to avoid answering the phone. Instead they booted up Pete’s laptop and headed straight for Hero.com.
“Wait,” said Emily. “Go to the news first.”
“Why?”
“I just want to know how bad that storm is.”
Pete navigated to the CNN news site. The main story was the unnaturally fast-forming storm that was raging across America, which had in fact completely skipped Florida without causing any damage. Weather forecasters were baffled as they showed a satellite image tracking the storm over Alabama—and it was still not causing damage as the sinister black clouds zoomed northward.
