by Lucas Flint
At the same time, though, I still didn’t feel entirely ashamed of my behavior. I hadn’t done it to show off or anything. I had done it because I wanted to be a hero. Maybe I’d underestimated those thugs, but so what? The woman was safe now, wasn’t she? And the thugs were probably going to be behind bars where they couldn’t hurt anyone else. The only problem I could see was that we didn’t get paid for this, but in the grand scheme of things that didn’t seem like such a big problem to me.
“Also, there is the fact that we had to do this for free,” said Rubberman. “My time is very valuable and I generally dislike spending it on things that won’t give me a good return on investment.”
“Then why didn’t you charge her for it?” I said in annoyance. “She even offered to pay us.”
“Because it wouldn’t have felt right and I hadn’t planned to apprehend any criminals today anyway,” said Rubberman. “Besides, it’s usually the city government who pay me for apprehending criminals. I’ll probably send them an invoice later and then have Adams badger them until they pay it; the government has always been my worst customer and you really have to work hard to make sure that they pay you on time.”
I bit my lower lip. Against my will, I was reminded of what Fro-Zen had said to me before, about how Rubberman and other superheroes only helped people when there was money involved. I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt that there was more truth to Fro-Zen’s words than I had initially thought. That also lowered my opinion of Rubberman slightly; if a woman could almost be robbed just outside of his base and he wouldn’t have intervened if I hadn’t, what kind of ‘hero’ did that make him?
“Anyway,” said Rubberman, putting his hands on his hips, “the important thing is that you are alive and will be able to go home later, although you might need to take some time off from school to rest for the rest of the week. But this little incident has convinced me that we need to get you fully trained for fighting criminals and supervillains faster than ever.”
“You mean we weren’t doing that already?” I said in surprise. “Wasn’t that what all this training was about?”
“Nope,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “Most supervillains and criminals are not wooden targets that will stand still long enough for you to shoot them. There’s a huge difference between knowing how to use your powers or throw a punch and being able to use those same powers and skills to beat an enemy in a fight. I probably don’t need to tell you this, though.”
“Yeah, I learned that today,” I said, rubbing my aching stomach, although the pain pills dulled the pain somewhat. “Will I do any training today?”
“No,” said Rubberman, shaking his head. “Instead, we’re going to send you home early, because you’re obviously in too much pain to train. Don’t worry; I’ve got a taxi to take you there, so you don’t need to worry about someone seeing me or Adams drop you off at your house and learning about your identity.”
I nodded in relief. I had been worried for a moment there that Rubberman might have me do a full day’s work anyway, but I was glad to hear that he wasn’t. I didn’t think I’d be able to even shoot targets, much less participate in any kind of physical fighting, in my current condition. I was looking forward to going home and resting through the weekend. That’s what I usually did anyway.
“When will I leave?” I said.
“In half an hour,” said Rubberman, glancing at his watch. “That’s when the taxi will be here. Until then, you should just relax and get some rest. If you need anything, feel free to call me or Adams; we’re both going to be here all day, so you don’t need to worry about having to care for yourself.”
I nodded again, while Rubberman turned around to leave. I closed my eyes, intending to get a quick nap in before my taxi came, but then I heard Rubberman stop and I opened my eyes to see Rubberman was now searching the pockets of his costume.
“Rubberman, what’s the problem?” I said. “Did you misplace your wallet?”
“No,” said Rubberman in an absentminded voice, like he wasn’t paying attention to me. “I just remembered … ah, here it is.”
Rubberman pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, a piece of paper I recognized as a check. I didn’t know why he had pulled it out or why he had spent so much time looking for it until he walked back over to me and held the check out for me. “Here you go, Alex. Your first paycheck.”
All of a sudden, I forgot about my pain and injuries. I sat up instantly, grabbed the check from Rubberman’s hand, and held up the check to my eyes. Yep, there was no mistaking it; this was my first paycheck. It wasn’t a fake or some kind of cruel joke on Rubberman’s part. The amount on it was correct and it even had my name on it, along with Rubberman’s business name, too.
I held it carefully, like it was a valuable artifact I’d dug up from an archaeological site. I was so afraid of damaging it that I didn’t even breathe on it. I looked up at Rubberman, who was smiling as if he was happy about my reaction to it.
“Thank you,” I said, though my voice choked slightly.
“You don’t need to thank me,” said Rubberman with a wink. “You earned every penny on that check. But I’m glad to see that you are excited about it anyway. I remember when I got my first paycheck when I was your age. It’s something you never forget.”
I nodded once more and lowered the paycheck. “Yeah, it’s awesome.”
“Indeed it is,” said Rubberman. “Now, I’ll just leave you alone here to rest. Once your taxi is here, Adams will escort you out.”
Rubberman turned around and left the room for real this time, leaving me alone with my paycheck.
Lying back in my bed, I turned the paycheck over, trying to look at every side of it at once. I had seen checks before—Dad still used them, even though they were old-fashioned—but getting my first check was something else. For the first time since I started working for Rubberman, I felt like an adult who had a real job. If this was how Dad felt every time his paycheck came in, then I understood why he worked so much.
I wondered if Fro-Zen had felt this way when he got his first paycheck from Rubberman. Then again, Fro-Zen would probably say something like this money was part of the problem. That thought suddenly made me feel bad, because when I thought about it, Rubberman had acted very much like the way Fro-Zen said all superheroes acted. Sure, he saved the woman and defeated the thugs for free, but knowing that Rubberman would have not done that if I hadn’t put myself in danger like that … well, it soured my taste on my first paycheck, to put it lightly.
Regardless, I put my paycheck on the desk next to my bed and then closed my eyes. Maybe when I woke up later, I would feel better; it was probably just the pain pills messing with my mind at the moment. When I woke up, I would feel better, especially once I got home.
At least, that’s what I told myself, anyway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
For the rest of the weekend, I spent pretty much all my time in bed. Mom, as usual, fussed over me, which I didn’t mind too much, but it did get a little annoying how she seemed to think I was on my death bed. Dad was concerned, too, but he didn’t seem nearly as worried as Mom. He did, however, congratulate me on getting my first paycheck and even deposited it for me in my savings account at the bank we’d opened, though I did keep some for myself. That account was strictly for saving up for my car; I was not allowed to take anything from it until I’d saved up enough money for my car. That kind of disappointed me, but I had known I would be doing that ahead of time, so I couldn’t complain.
I spent my time in bed, resting and letting my injuries heal, keeping an eye on local news reports for news about Fro-Zen. According to the most recent article published on Friday, Fro-Zen’s whereabouts were still unknown, despite the Golden City Police Department searching high and low for him. The police were now starting to speculate that Fro-Zen was hiding with allies, but they had no idea who his allies might have been or where they might have been keeping him.
I couldn’t blame
them for coming to that conclusion, as it was the only explanation that made any sense. I was also confused, because when I spoke to Fro-Zen last Saturday, he had sounded like he was willing to spend his whole life hounding down Rubberman, yet he had only attacked Rubberman once and had left him alone since then. Either Fro-Zen had given up—which was about as likely as pigs flying—or he was waiting for the right opportunity to strike. The latter seemed likely to me, but that just made me anxious for Rubberman. I knew that Rubberman was a strong, experienced superhero who had taken on loads of supervillains and criminals before, but Fro-Zen seemed so ruthless that I worried that Rubberman might not have what it takes to beat him. Then again, I was probably even less well-equipped to handle Fro-Zen than Rubberman was, given how I was almost beaten to a pulp by two street thugs who had no powers at all.
I also paid attention to general superhero news in Golden City, which was how I learned that Munroe Acquisitions, Inc. had just recently closed a deal with Adam ‘Shining Star’ Lancaster to purchase the Shining Star brand from him for an undisclosed sum. Apparently, this was considered big news, because no one had suspected that Shining Star would sell his brand to Munroe Acquisitions. Lots of pundits were speculating on what Munroe Acquisitions was going to do with the brand, as well as how much money Lancaster had sold the brand for. Lancaster’s net worth was approximately ten million dollars, although the rumors were that Munroe Acquisitions had purchased it for much less than that, but no one knew for sure because neither Adam Lancaster nor Sasha Munroe were at liberty to disclose the amount paid for the brand.
The article I read about it had a picture of Sasha Munroe standing next to a tall and muscular-looking guy whose teeth were so white that they practically shined in the glow of the camera flashes, a guy who the caption identified as Shining Star himself. I vaguely recalled hearing about Shining Star before, although he was apparently based in New Jersey rather than Texas, but I didn’t really care about the deal because seeing Sasha Munroe reminded me of my brief meeting with her a week ago.
Even though Sasha Munroe had seen me and knew that I was Rubberman’s sidekick, I couldn’t find any announcements or anything on the Internet to indicate that she had told anyone else about me. I wondered if she was simply respecting Rubberman’s privacy, but given what Adams told me about her, I doubted that. If she was as sneaky as Adams said she was, then she was probably waiting for the right moment to use that information for her advantage. I didn’t know how it could benefit her, but given how Rubberman had worked very hard to make sure that no one knew about me yet, I figured it had been a mistake for Sasha to see me.
Regardless, I tried not to worry about any of it, although it was so hard to do because I had nothing better to do while I laid in bed. More than once, I found my thoughts returning to my conversation with Fro-Zen. I kept comparing what he told me with how Rubberman acted and it fit together eerily well. I used to think Fro-Zen was just insane—and, to be honest, I still thought he wasn’t totally right in the head—but I was beginning to understand why he behaved the way he did. And it wasn’t just Rubberman, either; reading that story about Shining Star, I wondered whether Munroe Acquisitions would continue to have someone dressed up as Shining Star fighting supervillains and criminals or if they would just exploit his brand for money. I also wondered whether Shining Star was even aware of the gap he was leaving; from what I read, Shining Star had been one of the more effective superheroes, making his home city the safest in New Jersey. How safe would it be once the deal was finalized and the brand was owned by Munroe Acquisitions? Would another superhero rise to take his place or would his city become crime-ridden and unsafe?
The more I thought about it, the more I began to realize that Fro-Zen was right. There was something messed up about this industry, something I didn’t like. I didn’t think that the answer was to kill all of the superheroes or whatever Fro-Zen’s big master plan was, but I found myself pondering if I should quit working for Rubberman and get a job in a less ethically questionable industry. Getting my first paycheck was great and all, but I wasn’t sure it was worth participating in an industry that was, in some ways, deeply immoral. And I wasn’t even a moralistic, judgmental busybody, either; I just didn’t like the idea of making a city’s safety dependent on people who only wanted money and nothing else.
Those thoughts stayed with me all through the weekend. They stayed with me even on Monday morning, when I got up, took a shower, and then went downstairs to get my breakfast. Although my stomach was still bruised, I had healed up enough from my beating to be able to go to school. At least, I felt good enough to go to school; besides, I was getting a bit stir crazy having to stay in the house all day. I also sent a text to Rubberman telling him I was going to come to work today, although deep down I was still conflicted about all of this. I wasn’t sure if I was going to quit or not; I decided I would just go to the Elastic Cave and see how I felt after that.
When I entered the kitchen, I found both Mom and Dad already awake and sitting around the table. That wasn’t unusual; they were always up before me, Mom to make breakfast, Dad to get to work. But I noticed that there was no food on the stove top or in the oven; in fact, it looked like Mom hadn’t even started on breakfast yet. I didn’t smell any bacon or eggs or orange juice. The only ‘breakfast’ stuff that had been made was the coffee, although even that didn’t smell as fresh as it normally did.
Additionally, neither Mom nor Dad looked up or said good morning to me when I entered. They were both looking at Dad’s tablet like they were watching the most interesting movie in the world. The volume was on, but it was too low for me to hear from this side of the kitchen. Mom clutched a cold cup of coffee between her hands and was biting her lower lip, while Dad’s face was in the most worried frown I’d ever seen, an expression I didn’t like at all.
“Mom? Dad?” I said, looking at them both uncertainly. “What are you looking at?”
They both suddenly looked up at me, like I’d just sneaked up on them. But they looked relieved once they saw it was just me, although both of them still looked tense nonetheless.
“Oh, Alex, it’s just you,” said Mom with a sigh. “I’m so glad you’re still here and not at school. I forgot that you don’t go to school until after breakfast.”
“How could you forget that?” I said in astonishment. “And why are you glad that I’m not at school? Usually, you guys are unhappy when I’m not in school.”
“You mean you haven’t heard about what happened?” said Dad in surprise.
“Heard what?” I said. “I just got up half an hour ago. I haven’t even looked at my phone.”
“It will be easier to show you,” said Dad. “Here, look at this.”
Dad turned his tablet around so I could see its screen. Frowning, I stepped closer to the table, looking at the tablet’s screen. At first, I thought I was looking at live footage of the largest ice sculpture in the world. It was shaped kind of like Golden City High School, except with huge ice walls surrounding it on all sides. Then I noticed the police cars scattered around it, some of them frozen over, while others were not, and I realized that I was looking at live footage of my school.
But I didn’t understand how it got frozen over until I read the headline underneath:
LOCAL HIGH SCHOOL ATTACKED BY INFAMOUS SUPERVILLAIN FRO-ZEN. DOZENS OF STUDENTS AND TEACHERS STILL INSIDE.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“What …” I looked at Mom and Dad. “What is going on? What happened?”
“We don’t know,” said Mom as Dad took the tablet back over to himself. She ran a hand through her hair. “When I was making our coffee, Jackson turned on his tablet to watch the news, but then we saw the report about the attack on your school and we started watching.”
“From what the reporters have said, Fro-Zen attacked the high school earlier this morning,” said Dad. He sounded calmer than Mom, although it was obvious that Fro-Zen’s attack on my school had rattled him as well. “At first, the police
thought no one else was inside, but then they got a phone call from Fro-Zen who told them that he had dozens of students and faculty members hostage. I don’t know what they were doing there so early, though.”
“Some of the faculty and students go to school early to get it set up for the rest of us,” I said, although I said that somewhat mechanically because I was so stunned that I barely felt any emotion. “Do we know who any of the hostages are?”
“They’re still calling students and faculty to figure out who went early and who didn’t head out yet,” said Dad. “They’ve confirmed that Mr. Sampson Peters was one of the hostages.”
“What about Frank?” I said. I gulped. “And Greta?”
“Unsure,” said Dad, shaking his head. “I don’t think either Frank or Greta have been confirmed to be there. It’s still a developing situation.”
“Why did Fro-Zen do this?” I said. “What does he want?”
“Rubberman,” said Dad. He rubbed his temple. “According to the police, Fro-Zen called them and threatened to kill his hostages if Rubberman didn’t show up to fight him. God, it’s just like what he did four years ago.”
“You remember that?” I said in surprise.
“Of course I do,” said Dad. “That was the elementary school I went to when I was a kid. We weren’t living in Golden City at the time, but I remember following the news closely during that situation.”
“I remember it as well,” said Mom. She looked at me with fear. “Alex, you should stay home today. The police are warning all students and faculty members who are still home to stay away from the school until Fro-Zen is taken care of.”
“What about Rubberman?” I said. “Has he shown up yet?”
“Doesn’t look like it,” said Dad, glancing at his tablet. “The police have been trying to contact him, but apparently he hasn’t been returning their calls. Do you know why that might be, Alex?”
