by Lucas Flint
As I flew near the ceiling, I drew three disks out of my pouch and threw them at Ferdinand. Ferdinand raised his arms in front of his face, but the disks cut into his skin anyway, causing him to growl in pain, but he barely seemed to notice it. He just lowered his arms and, picking up one of the guns dropped by his fellow Injectors, threw it directly at me.
I easily dodged the gun, but then I heard a gunshot and a bullet struck me in the chest. My suit blocked the bullet, but the impact of the bullet still stunned me and caused me to fall to the floor. I hit the floor hard and gasped for breath, though I shook my head and looked over to see that the last Injector was aiming his gun at me.
I rolled to my feet, but Ferdinand was upon me again and slammed his fist into my gut. I gasped in pain before Ferdinand smashed his fist into the back of my head, knocking me into the floor. I tried to get up, but Ferdinand slammed his foot down on my back, pinning me to the floor and forcing me to exhale all of my breath.
Ferdinand kept stomping on me over and over again, each blow even more devastating than the last. I tried my best to get up, but Ferdinand’s stomps came hard and fast, to the point where I could barely react. For a long time, all I saw was the increasingly destroyed warehouse floor as Ferdinand smashed me deeper and deeper into the floor, until he finally stopped, grabbed me by the cape, and once again threw me halfway across the warehouse.
I landed on the floor hard and rolled several feet until I came to a stop against another crate, my head spinning from the impact of the crash. Every bone in my body felt like it had been smashed into a million little pieces and I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to walk again after this.
“Get up, Jack,” TW urged in my mind. “You can’t give up now. Ferdinand is coming over to finish you off.”
I raised my head to see Ferdinand walking over to me slowly, his lips parted in a bloodthirsty grin. I tried to sit up, but the pain in my back flared and I laid back down.
“I can’t,” I muttered, panting heavily under my breath. “He broke me, TW. He broke me.”
“No, he didn’t,” said TW. “You’re still alive, aren’t you? If you are still breathing, you can still fight.”
“Easy for you to say,” I said. “You’re not the one who just got stomped into concrete by a literal cow man.”
“If you give up now, you will never be able to avenge Thomas,” said TW. “Do you want your brother’s death to be unavenged?”
My hands curled into fists. “No. Never.”
“Then get up and fight,” TW said.
I gritted my teeth, but knew that TW was right. Against my screaming body, I not only sat up, but slowly rose to my feet. This seemed to surprise Ferdinand, because he actually stopped for a moment to look at me with a face that clearly said You’re not serious, are you? before he shook his head and resumed walking toward me, wearing a smirk that told me that he didn’t fear me.
Truthfully, I understood that. Ferdinand had given me the absolute worst beat down of my life so far. He had no reason to fear me. He had every reason to believe that I was a weakling who didn’t stand a chance against him.
Too bad I was about to show him why you shouldn’t assume anything.
I drew three small disks from my pouch and threw them, but not at him. I threw them in three different directions, imagining each one bouncing off different parts of the warehouse, imagining their exact trajectory as they moved toward Ferdinand.
Ferdinand, on the other hand, apparently didn’t realize what I was trying to do, because he just snorted and, lowering his head, rushed toward me with the speed of a charging bull. Once his horns struck me, I would probably die, but I didn’t move just yet because I was waiting for the right moment to strike.
The disks bounced along the walls, floor, and ceiling of the warehouse. Ferdinand drew closer and closer to me, his feet smashing across the floor of the warehouse while he did it. I stayed exactly where I was, keeping my focus on my disks, making them bounce in seemingly random patterns that even Ferdinand wouldn’t notice until it was too late.
Then Disk One suddenly sliced through Ferdinand’s right knee, making him stumble slightly, but not enough to stop. Disk Two slashed across his left cheek, cutting his face open and making him roar in pain, but again he didn’t stop. And finally, Disk Three bounced off the ceiling and lodged itself directly into the back of his head, making Ferdinand roar in pain even louder than before, but again, he didn’t stop.
When Ferdinand’s horns came within my reach, I grabbed them both with my hands and, yelling loudly, I whirled around and threw Ferdinand with all my might toward the back of the warehouse.
Ferdinand flew toward the back of the warehouse and crashed into the abandoned office. He crashed into it so hard that the entire thing collapsed on top of him, sending up a cloud of dust into the air and even causing part of the roof to collapse in itself.
I waited a few seconds to see if Ferdinand would get back up, but he did not rise again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I heard footsteps running away and looked over my shoulder to see the remaining Injector—the one who had tried to shoot me—running away toward the blasted apart wall in an obvious attempt to flee from me.
I jumped into the air and flew toward him. I grabbed the Injector by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the floor and slammed him against the nearby wall, pinning him several feet above the floor, almost up to the ceiling. Fear appeared in his eyes and he stopped struggling as soon as he realized how far above the floor he was.
“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to throw a literal bull man at me,” I said, tightening my grip on the collar of his shirt. “But it obviously didn’t work. Now, unless you happen to have another bull man waiting around here somewhere, it’s time that you told me where Michael Jones is. And I want you to tell me now, so I can confront him myself.”
The Injector’s chattering teeth made it almost impossible to tell what he was saying. “N-Never. I will n-never tell—”
I slammed him against the wall again, making the Injector scream and clutch my arm as if he was afraid I would drop him. “Drop the tough guy act. If you don’t tell me where he is, then I’ll make sure you go to jail in a body cast.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” said the Injector, almost babbling. “Michael Jones is at our headquarters. He’s always there, but you won’t be able to make it in because it is protected by the best security systems money can buy.”
“And where, exactly, is your headquarters?” I said. “Give me an address. Give it to me now, because my grip is starting to slip and this is an awfully high place for a normal human like you to fall from.”
“H-Here,” said the Injector, stuffing his hand into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper. “This is a receipt for some recent P-Power shipments. It lists our headquarters’ address at the bottom.”
I took the receipt and looked it over once. Unfortunately, I was not familiar with the address’ exact location, but that was okay, because I would just put it into my phone’s GPS app and search for it there.
“Thanks,” I said as I stuffed the paper into my costume’s pouch. “By giving me this receipt, you’ve ensured the safety of the city of Rumsfeld from your kind.”
“Why are you thanking me?” said the Injector with wild eyes. “Once Jones finds out what I did, he’s gonna send Lethal to kill me! Jones doesn’t tolerate or forgive traitors. Ever.”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry so much if I were you. Once you’re in prison, you’ll be safe and sound … for a while, at least.”
I slapped the Injector across the face hard enough to knock him out. I slowly lowered the Injector to the floor and, after making sure that he was out for the count, I rose to my full height and surveyed the warehouse.
It was a complete mess. Injectors lay scattered around the place, every last one of them unconscious. The hole in the wall they had blown out still smoked vaguely, while the dust had settled on the office area where I had thrown Fer
dinand. I was surprised that Warehouse 19 still stood at all, given all of the abuse it had taken. Perhaps it was better built than I thought.
TW flashed next to me, a worried frown on his face. “This is not good.”
I looked at TW. “Why do you say that? I took down all of the Injectors and their pet bull. Sure, Warehouse Nineteen got a little roughed up, but don’t most superhero battles usually result in some collateral damage, anyway?”
TW looked at me as if I was an idiot. “I’m not talking about how you defeated the Injectors. I’m talking about the fact that the Injectors knew you were here at all. You haven’t told anyone you’re here, right?”
“Right,” I said, nodding. “Only you and me know that I go to this place to train.”
“Or so we thought,” said TW. “Yet the Injectors’ attack proves that someone else knows you train here. The only question is, who?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think it could be Christina? Maybe she’s been following me around and tipped off the Injectors that I would be here.”
“Impossible,” said TW. “While she’s still on the run, I think we would have noticed her if she was following us around. Remember, her mission is to capture you and, by extension, the Trickshot Watch. Why would she send the Injectors to kill you if it might result in the destruction or even outright theft of the Watch?”
I folded my arms in front of my chest. “Well, aside from her, I can’t think of anyone who could have possibly done it. I wish I did, though.”
“It’s a deeply disturbing mystery,” said TW. “And in any case, until we find out who did it, we should stop coming here. You did well against Ferdinand and the Injectors, but there’s no guarantee that you will do as well in the event of another attack.”
“Sure,” I said, nodding. “I was thinking we’d have to stop coming here, anyway, given how it’s been totally wrecked. Maybe we should find another abandoned warehouse to train in.”
“There aren’t many of those in Rumsfeld,” said TW. “And even if you find another, it won’t solve the real problem: namely, the Injectors actively hunting you down.”
“That’s why I’m going to take the fight to Jones himself,” I said. I patted my pouch where I put the receipt. “Once I locate their headquarters, I will go in and take down the man himself and end his reign of terror once and for all.”
“Are you sure that would be so wise?” said TW. “I’m still not convinced that you’re ready for this. Yes, you’ve handled the Injectors well so far, but your control over your powers still needs work and—”
“And when will I be ready?” I said. I put my hands on my waist. “A week from now? A month? Two months? Six months? A year? And how much time do you have left to teach me?”
“What do you—”
“You’re fuzzy,” I said, gesturing at TW’s form. “And getting fuzzier by the day.”
TW looked down at his body, grimaced as if he had just spotted a really ugly pimple, and looked at me with a somewhat shameful look. “You’re right, but I’m still functioning at near one hundred percent. I’m not about to go away anytime soon.”
“Can you guarantee that, though?” I said. “Can you really be sure you won’t just suddenly disappear all of a sudden? Because you made it sound like that would happen to you when I first met you.”
TW shifted his gaze away from me. “To some degree, you are correct. I don’t know how long I have, except that I have less than I should. If we could get the Watch repaired, I would be able to live much longer, but my time is indeed limited. Still, you need training, more training than you’ve received now.”
“Maybe, but will the Injectors or Icon leave me alone long enough for me to train?” I said. “You know the answer to that question, don’t you?”
TW nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I do. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”
“Then the only way to stop the Injectors from coming after me—and, eventually, my family, if they ever find out my real identity—is to take the fight directly to them,” I said, punching my fist into my other hand. “No more hiding. No more waiting for them to come after me. We go to their headquarters and take them down once and for all. I have the power. I know I can do it.”
“What if you run into Lethal Injection?” said TW. “Your last fight with him ended with you nearly dying of poison. Should that happen again, you might very well die for certain this time. Do you think that’s a risk worth taking?”
I hesitated, remembering how badly my fight with Lethal Injection went not too long ago. If we attacked their headquarters, I would definitely run into him at some point. And even with a better grasp on my powers and knowing what he could do, I still might not be able to beat him.
But then I thought about Thomas. The knowledge that Power would continue to ruin the lives of other people, people just like my brother, filled me with such rage that I couldn’t even begin to describe it.
“I’m not afraid of Lethal Injection,” I said. “Even if Lethal Injection is leading an army of Ferdinands against me, I will handle them. By the time it’s over, there won’t be even one Injector left free to sell their drugs on the streets of Rumsfeld to innocent people. Not one.”
TW looked taken aback by how passionately I spoke, but I didn’t feel the need to apologize. What I said was the truth. Whether TW agreed with it or not, I believed it and I was going to do everything in my power to make it a reality.
To my surprise, TW actually smiled. “You reminded me of Gregory just then. He said something similar to me once, years and years ago, about how he was willing to do anything to protect his family and the people of Rumsfeld. It was the first time I’d ever seen a human speak so passionately about anything and I didn’t quite understand it at the time. But now … now I think I do, having seen it in you.”
“So you think I’m ready?” I said.
TW shrugged. “No one is ever ready to storm a drug dealer’s den and put an end to their activities once and for all, but then, I suppose you need to take a leap of faith sometimes and just hope it works out for the best. That’s what Gregory said to me once.”
I nodded. “All right. Tomorrow night, we’ll begin the assault. And by the time we’re done, the Injectors won’t know what hit them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Waiting for tomorrow night was pure agony. I probably could have simply gone straight to the Injectors’ headquarters that very day and confronted Michael Jones, but I decided that that would be too hasty. I needed time to formulate a plan, as well as rest and get ready for the attack. Despite how strong I was, my body ached all over from my fight with Ferdinand and I wanted to make sure I was in tiptop shape before I did anything strenuous.
I did call the police and inform them about Ferdinand and the Injectors, but I made it an anonymous tip, because the last thing I needed was to have the police ask me, a sixteen-year-old boy, what I was doing in an abandoned warehouse after school with no adult supervision whatsoever. I trusted that the police would be able to figure out what happened there by themselves when they arrived, especially once they started hauling Injectors off to jail.
Speaking of the Injectors, before I left Warehouse 19, I gathered all of the unconscious Injectors up and tied them together with some steel chains I found lying around, as well as neatly piling their weapons up in a corner out of their reach. I didn’t bother to tie up Ferdinand or do anything to restrain him, partially because I thought he would just break out of it regardless, but also because Ferdinand was out cold, to the point where I wasn’t sure he would ever wake up. It may have been the unstable effects of the Power drug affecting his consciousness, but in any case, I was content to leave him alone, and besides the police would probably bring Bug Bite with them, who would be able to deal with Ferdinand if it turned out that Ferdinand was more dangerous than I thought.
I returned home before Mom or Dad did, luckily enough, and managed to get out of my costume and shower before either of them got back home. As a result, ne
ither of them suspected that I had been doing anything other than my homework in my room after I got home from school, which was exactly what I wanted them to think. It was safer for them if they didn’t know that I had just been involved in a fight to the death with a crazy bull man and his drug dealing friends. I wasn’t even sure how I would explain it to them.
But there was a news report on the clash between Trickshot and the Injectors on the evening news, which Dad turned on during dinner that night. The news reporter claimed that the police had arrived at Warehouse 19, in the northeastern section of the city, where they had found over a dozen unconscious Injectors tied together, plus an unconscious man with a bull face who they quickly identified as a Power user. All thirteen of the criminals were promptly arrested, bringing the total number of Injectors arrested that week up to twenty, which was the most Injectors ever arrested in such a short time span. There was, of course, no sign of Trickshot himself, though apparently some people speculated that Trickshot might have been the one to inform the police about the Injectors in the first place.
While Mom and Dad chatted about the attack, I didn’t say much, mostly because I didn’t want to say anything that would make my parents suspicious of me. It helped that we had a big dinner of steak and potatoes that night, which meant that my mouth was usually too full of good food for me to say more than a few words at a time. I was surprised by how Mom and Dad both seemed very positive about Trickshot now, especially Dad, who had been worried that Trickshot might be someone who wanted to cause no good. Dad still wasn’t entirely on board with Trickshot, however, though he was definitely warming up to him.
It was times like that that I wished I could have said something, but I didn’t. I just finished my dinner and went to bed early, mostly because my body was aching from everywhere Ferdinand had beaten me earlier.
At school the next day, however, I found myself sitting in my usual spot in the cafeteria with Kyle, who, like everyone else, was talking about the arrest of so many Injectors last night.
