by Lucas Flint
So I nodded and said, “All right. Just let me get dressed and have breakfast and we can head out.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I’ll admit it: The main reason I accepted Uncle Josh’s offer to go fishing was so I could ride in his cool red convertible. That would probably seem really shallow to most people, but if you saw how awesome his car was, then you would completely understand why I thought that.
Sitting in Uncle Josh’s convertible, I couldn’t get over how comfortable the leather seating was. It was better than the seating of Dad’s blue truck or Mom’s old yellow sedan. It conformed to my body shape for extra comfort and even had vents in the seat for cooling down or heating up the seat, depending on what you wanted. Uncle Josh spent five minutes alone showing me all of the cool extra features it had, and that was before he turned on the engine and sent us zipping through the streets of Rumsfeld to Lake Don, where we would go fishing.
Houses passed by us quickly as Uncle Josh’s convertible zipped down the street. When we first took off, I’ll admit to holding onto my seat with both hands out of fear, but as we drove through the streets of Rumsfeld and it became clear that Uncle Josh had complete control over his vehicle, I relaxed my grip and sat back in my seat, watching the houses as we passed them by one after another.
“Having fun, Jack?” said Uncle Josh, flashing a smile at me as we drove.
“Yeah!” I said. “Fastest car I’ve ever driven in. How fast can it go?”
“That’s my secret,” said Uncle Josh with a mischievous smile. “Knowledge is power, after all.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m not going over the speed limit,” said Uncle Josh. He nodded at the barometer. “We’re already cutting it pretty close. Last thing I want is to get pulled over by the cops and risk running late for our fishing trip. We really should have left a lot sooner than we did, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll still get a good spot no matter how many people are there.”
I nodded. I had to admit that my previous suspicions of Uncle Josh were starting to seem pretty silly to me. Uncle Josh was actually really cool, much cooler than I expected. Whatever happened between him and Mom that drove them apart sixteen years ago wasn’t any of my business anyway. I should just enjoy this time with him and not worry so much.
As we drove, Uncle Josh glanced at me and said, “So, Jack, did you hear the news about Trickshot?”
I tried to look as relaxed as I could, though I found it hard to do. “What news?”
“According to the Rumsfeld Journal, Trickshot was nearly captured by Bug Bite at the scene of Baron Glory’s assassination,” said Uncle Josh, turning his gaze back to the road. “Supposedly, Trickshot was poking around the apartment in which the assassin hid and was taken by surprise by Bug Bite, who tried to arrest him. Unfortunately, Trickshot got away and Bug Bite is currently in the hospital recovering from the fight, though he’s expected to heal quickly and be back on the streets within the next day or so.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that the news would report on my fight with Bug Bite so quickly. It just made me grateful that I had managed to escape the apartment before Bug Bite could catch me. Otherwise, Uncle Josh would have read about his nephew being the illegal superhero Trickshot this morning, rather than about how Trickshot narrowly escaped capture.
“No, I didn’t hear about that,” I said as casually as I could. “Does anyone know where Trickshot ran off to?”
“Nope,” said Uncle Josh, shaking his head. “If they did, the police probably would have arrested him by now. All they knew is that, after beating up Bug Bite, he escaped through one of the windows and hasn’t been seen since.”
Internally, I sighed in relief. I had been slightly worried that someone might have seen me leaving the place, but it sounded to me like Bug Bite had probably been the only person who actually saw me in that apartment. Perhaps one of the other apartment dwellers had overheard our fighting, but Bug Bite was apparently the only actual witness to the fight.
“I’m not sure what to make of it,” said Uncle Josh. “I always thought Trickshot was innocent and that someone else had assassinated Baron, but why would he come back to the scene of the crime like that? It doesn’t make sense to me, unless Trickshot actually is the assassin, that is.”
“I dunno,” I said, again trying to appear as casual as I could. “Maybe he was trying to prove his innocence.”
Uncle Josh chuckled when I said that. “Pretty tone-deaf way to go about doing that, wouldn’t you say? Even if Trickshot is innocent, he’s not making himself look innocent by breaking into a closed-off crime scene like that and sending Bug Bite to the hospital. I bet the papers are going to have a field day with that.”
I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “I’m sure he has a good reason for it. I think we can trust Trickshot. He took down the Injectors, after all. That makes him a good guy in my book, even if he isn’t a legal superhero yet.”
“Yet?” Uncle Josh repeated, looking at me as we stopped at a stop light. “You think they’ll ever legalize him?”
I hadn’t even realized I said that word, so I quickly said, “Oh, no. I mean, sure, they could, but I was just—”
“Doubt it will ever happen,” Uncle Josh said as the stop light turned green and we started driving again. “I’ve never heard of any superhero being legalized after they started their career. Anyone who wants to become a superhero has to go through the Superhero Exam first. Otherwise, they’re just considered a vigilante at best or a supervillain at worst.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment. “Still doesn’t mean Trickshot is a bad guy, though.”
“It doesn’t really matter if he’s good or bad,” said Uncle Josh. “The law’s the law, after all, and there’s no changing it. Well, unless you happen to be a member of Congress, but given how absurdly useless those guys are, even that doesn’t guarantee anything.”
I nodded, but I still felt a bit embarrassed over my Freudian slip. Deep down, I wanted to be a legal superhero like Bug Bite, recognized by the government and beloved by the populace. I rarely angsted about it, but now that I thought about it, I wondered why Grandfather did not encourage me to sign up for the Superhero Exam when I turned eighteen so I could get my license. Surely that would have made it easier to handle whatever threat to Rumsfeld was going to attack the city, right?
But I pushed such thoughts out of my mind for now in order to focus on my conversation with Uncle Josh. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Guess Trickshot will always be illegal, huh?”
“Probably,” said Uncle Josh. “And, Jack, I’m not saying this because I like it any better than you. I think Trickshot is probably a good guy, too, but I’m just being realistic. Especially if it turns out that Trickshot actually is the assassin. I can’t imagine the government would ever legalize a superhero who killed another superhero. Not happening, especially now.”
I nodded and slumped back in my seat. I shouldn’t have been so down, but it was hard not to be, given how difficult everything seemed to be for me. Everyone in Rumsfeld thought that my alter ego was a killer now and I still didn’t have the proof I needed to clear my name. I could only hope that TW would return with his research on Bug Bite’s hideout quickly, because I figured that the only way I could prove my innocence was by finding whatever was inside Bug Bite’s headquarters. One way or another, I suspected that the truth lay in Bug Bite’s headquarters, whatever that truth might be.
We arrived at Lake Don just a few minutes later. We were not the first ones there by any stretch, but most of the people who were out on the lake this morning seemed to be families and tourists enjoying the weather, rather than fishermen seeking their next big catch. It meant, according to Uncle Josh, that we would have more freedom to fish where we wanted, especially because most of the people here weren’t even on the lake at all, but rather on the beach or close to the surf enjoying the cool water.
“Grab the fishing poles,” said Uncl
e Josh as we got out of his convertible. “I’m going to go and buy some bait. I forgot to bring some and it’s too late to go back home and hope that Walter has some lying around.”
As Uncle Josh walked over to a booth at the end of the parking lot that seemed to sell bait and other fishing accessories, I walked around to the back of the convertible and popped the trunk where the fishing poles were. I pulled the fishing poles out of the trunk, but as I did so, I noticed something in one of the corners. The upper right corner of the trunk was pulled up slightly, as if someone had taken the flooring off and hastily put it back on before anyone could see.
Ordinarily, I would have just ignored it, but I was still very curious about Uncle Josh and his reasons for coming home. I looked at the end of the parking lot, where Uncle Josh seemed to be having a very animated chat with the bait dealer. Uncle Josh wasn’t even looking in my direction, though with his back to me, of course, there was no way that he could.
Placing the fishing poles against the back of the car, I leaned in and tugged at the upturned corner. It gave surprisingly easily, allowing me to see a strange suitcase under the floor with the label ‘SELF-DEFENSE’ in big gold lettering. The suitcase itself looked incredibly fancy, like something you’d find in an exotic store. It might have even been European, because Dad had a similar suitcase that he bought when he and Mom went to France for their honeymoon after they got married.
I reached toward the suitcase, but before I could grab it, I heard footsteps walking rapidly toward me. Letting go of the upturned corner, I immediately pulled my head out of the trunk and looked over to see Uncle Josh rapidly walking toward me. He no longer looked as jolly and carefree as he did before. He walked like he was trying to get away from some kind of dangerous animal, though everything around us seemed pretty peaceful.
“Uncle Josh?” I said. “I was just … I got the fishing poles and I—”
“I don’t care,” Uncle Josh interrupted me. “We’re going home. Now.”
“What?” I said. I gestured at Lake Don. “But we just got here.”
“Sorry, but we’ll have to do this some other day,” said Uncle Josh. “Just put the fishing poles back in the trunk and hop back in.”
I was about to ask Uncle Josh what he meant until I noticed a slim black sedan enter the parking lot. It came to a stop several spots down from ours, but despite the distance, I had a bad feeling about it.
That was when a man stepped out of the black car, drew a gun out of his pocket, and fired at us.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Uncle Josh tackled me to the ground, narrowly saving me from the bullet. I gasped underneath Uncle Josh’s weight and scraped my hands and knees against the gravel pavement.
“Get in the car, kid!” Uncle Josh snapped. “Those guys will kill us both if we don’t get out of here now!”
Uncle Josh jumped off me and ran over to the driver’s seat. Confused, but not sure what else to do, I rolled to my feet and rushed over to the passenger’s seat. I was vaguely aware of the people on the beach crying out in surprise when they heard the gunshots, but I paid no attention to them. I just tore open the passenger’s door, hopped into my seat, and barely secured my seatbelt before Uncle Josh backed out of the parking space and took us roaring down the parking lot toward the open road.
But the black sedan also started to back out, trying to block our only way out.
“We’re going to crash into that car!” I screamed.
Uncle Josh didn’t say anything. He just yanked the steering wheel to the left. We barely passed between another parked car and the sedan, so close that the sides of Uncle Josh’s convertible actually scrapped against both vehicles. But somehow we made it through the gap and were roaring down the highway again, heading home.
“What was that?” I said. I looked at Uncle Josh. “Who were those people and why did they start shooting at us?”
Uncle Josh grimaced. “Just my past catching up to me, but I think we can lose them. Are they following us?”
I looked over my shoulder and saw with alarm that the black sedan was back on our tail. It hadn’t quite caught up to us, but it was gaining fast and would probably be upon us in a few minutes at most. The front window was too tinted for me to make out who was driving it, which just made me all the more anxious to get the heck out of here.
“They’re following us,” I said, looking at Uncle Josh again. “And they’re gaining fast.”
Uncle Josh cursed under his breath before saying, “Then we’ll try to lose them. Trust me, you do not want to end up in their hands.”
Uncle Josh took a sudden, sharp turn down a random street and floored the accelerator. Unfortunately, the sedan made the same turn without any problem and was closer than ever.
“They’re still on us,” I said, grabbing my seat tightly.
“Yeah, I know,” said Uncle Josh. “We’ll just have to find a smaller mouse hole to hide in. Hold on tight!”
Uncle Josh suddenly made another turn, this time into an alleyway between two buildings. It was a tight fit. As we drove by, we slammed into a trashcan, sending it flying through the air, as well as causing a feral cat to jump on top of a dumpster that the car scraped against. I winced at the sound of the car scraping against the dumpster. Uncle’s convertible was going to need a new paint job, once all of this was said and done.
“Check to see if they’re still following,” said Uncle Josh. “I can’t take my eyes off the road.”
I once again looked over my shoulder out the back window and saw no one behind us. Looking at Uncle Josh again, I said, “I don’t see them. I don’t think they entered the alley after us.”
Uncle Josh cracked a grin. “Figured as much. That car was too wide to fit in this alley. Now we just need to take a few more back streets and we should be home—”
A loud roar of an engine interrupted Uncle Josh. Ahead, the black sedan burst out of a side alley, completely blocking off the path ahead of us. The sedan came to an abrupt stop smack dab in the middle of the alleyway, making it impossible for us to go around it. And there weren’t any side streets we could take to go around it, either.
Uncle Josh slammed on the brakes. The tires of his convertible skidded loudly against the pavement, but luckily came to a stop before we crashed into the sedan. Uncle Josh immediately set the convertible into reverse and started going back the way we came, but there were a couple of gunshots followed by the sounds of rubber popping and the car came to a stop.
“Wait, what was that?” I said.
Uncle Josh cursed again, this time more foully than before. “Must have shot out the tires. Look.”
Uncle Josh gestured out the windshield. The same man who had shot at us at Lake Don now stood out of his car, his gun aimed at us. Now that we weren’t running away, I could see that the guy was tall and lithe, but clearly muscular, based on the way his muscles stood out in his black t-shirt. He looked Arabic and was very clean shaved. Either way, he was dangerous, aiming his gun at us and scowling fiercely at us.
“Joshua!” The man shouted in a light Arabic accent. “Get out of the car or else I’ll shoot you and the kid up!”
“Who is that guy, uncle?” I said, looking at Josh. “And how does he know your name?”
Uncle Josh looked as if his worst nightmares had come true. “That’s a long story which I’m afraid we don’t have time for. All you need to know is that I will probably need to leave the car and meet him face to face.”
“But he’s got a gun,” I said in alarm. “He’ll kill you!”
“Probably,” said Uncle Josh, “but if I don’t, he’ll still kill me, and you, too, because he’s not the kind of guy who’s known for his kindness.”
“I’m coming out with you,” I said, reaching for my seatbelt. “No way you’re going by yourself.”
Uncle Josh grabbed my arm, making me look up at him. The expression he wore now was more serious than I’d ever seen on his face before. It would have been enough to make me freeze all by itse
lf even if Uncle Josh hadn’t grabbed my arm.
“No,” said Uncle Josh firmly. “You have no idea who this guy is or what he’s capable of. You need to stay here. You’ll be safer here.”
“But—”
“Stay here,” said Uncle Josh, his grip on my arm tightening. “I’ll try to distract him. Meanwhile, you can try to escape through the trunk. Pull down the backseats and you will be able to get into the trunk, which can be opened from within. Then get the hell out of here and find or call the police. Can you do that for me?”
Uncle Josh’s seriousness was such a drastic change from his previous laid-back behavior that all I could do was nod dumbly in response.
“Joshua!” the Arabic man shouted. “I tire of waiting! My trigger finger is starting to slip.”
Uncle Josh immediately let go of my arm and hopped out of the car, holding up his palms to show that he was unarmed. “Hey, Mohammad, old buddy, old pal. There’s no need to scream. I heard you just fine. I was just speaking with my nephew here, giving him some last advice as his uncle. You have a nephew, so you understand, right?”
“I killed my nephew,” said the Arabic man, who was apparently named Mohammad, “after he betrayed my family and dishonored our family name.”
“Ah,” said Uncle Josh, who seemed completely taken aback by Mohammad’s frank admission. “Well, the point still stands. We can talk over our differences like real adults.”
“You know we have crossed the threshold where we can just talk our problems over, Joshua Daniels,” said Mohammad. “I have spent a lot of time and money searching for you with one purpose only: To kill you in cold blood for your crimes against my organization.”
His organization? What the heck was this Mohammad guy talking about? I was tempted to activate the Trickshot Watch here and now and take down the guy, but that would require revealing my secret identity to Josh and Mohammad, which would just make the situation harder.
