Joshua Dread

by Lee Bacon

  “I’ll take twenty-six cans, please,” Milton said.

  I elbowed Milton.

  “Er—actually, I’ll just take one.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  “Just water for me,” Sophie said.

  “Very well,” said Stanley. He bowed mechanically, then strolled jerkily across the room.

  “We’re still getting moved in,” Sophie said, pointing at a pile of cardboard boxes. “Stanley’s in the process of unpacking everything.”

  “So,” Milton said, “is your … er … dad actually … here?”

  “Yeah,” Sophie said.

  “Now?”

  “I think so.”

  Milton looked like he couldn’t decide whether to scream or faint. “Cool,” he said.

  Sophie led us deeper into the house. We passed through a living room, a sitting room, a solarium, a dining room, another living room, a kitchen, a library, a third living room, and several other rooms that didn’t seem to have any purpose at all.

  One room looked like some kind of art gallery. Oil paintings hung on the walls, encased in flamboyant gold frames, all showing portraits of the same person: Captain Justice.

  Another room was filled with merchandise. Boxes of cereal, shelves of tennis shoes, watches, T-shirts, toys. It took me a moment to realize what all the products had in common: They were all endorsed by Captain Justice. It was the room where he displayed all his merchandise deals. It seemed like a weird thing for a person to have in his own house. On the other hand, I supposed that Captain Justice had to do something with all those rooms.

  I picked up a box of Frosted Fuel Flakes with Captain Justice’s picture on it. The box was empty. So was a nearby box of microwavable burritos. On the label was a picture of Captain Justice wearing a sombrero. The text underneath read: You can be a hero too with Señor Loco’s Three-Minute Mexican Feast!

  This must’ve been what the Cafeteria Girls had been talking about. Shelf after shelf of empty boxes. All with Captain Justice plastered across the label.

  At the far end of the room was a life-sized cardboard cutout of Captain Justice. He looked just like he did in real life. He was grinning his perfect grin, showing off his perfect teeth and his perfect hair. A shiny blue cape hung around his muscular neck. One hand was giving a thumbs-up, while the other was clutching a stick of beef jerky. Beneath him was a label:

  Justice Jerky®

  A super way to feel good and keep fit!!!

  We walked into the next room, and there was Captain Justice again. Except this time, it wasn’t a cardboard cutout.

  It was the real thing.

  He wasn’t wearing his usual silver and blue uniform. Instead, he was dressed in a silver tracksuit and matching headband.

  The room was full of bulky machinery that looked designed to inflict some serious pain. Sharp claws, leather straps, spinning knobs. The Cafeteria Girls had been right. They looked just like high-tech torture devices.

  And Captain Justice was strapped into one of them.

  16

  Meeting a superhero in real life can be an unforgettable experience.

  Captain Justice’s hands were grasped by mechanical levers. His feet were hooked up to rotating pedals. Devious-looking robotic arms gripped him around the waist and neck.

  That was when I realized Captain Justice wasn’t being tortured. He was exercising.

  The machine moved around him, a whirring hive of spinning silver parts. Captain Justice’s legs swung back and forth on the rotating pedals while he simultaneously heaved a barbell up and down with his arms. As if that weren’t enough, he was also attached to straps that stretched and pulled and twisted different parts of his body into various yoga positions.

  Milton gasped. He was in the same room as his hero. And his hero seemed to be doing the weirdest exercises any of us had ever seen.

  “Hi, Dad,” Sophie said, walking across the room.

  “Hello, Daughter!” Captain Justice managed to say between deep breaths.

  “How’s it going?”

  “Marvelous! The lab just came up with this machine last week, and it’s wonderfully efficient. It allows me to do all my different exercises at once. In fifteen minutes!”

  I watched in awed silence as Captain Justice jogged and lifted weights and performed the downward-facing dog pose, all at the same time.

  “These are my friends.” Sophie nodded to the two of us. “Milton and Joshua.”

  A flash of panic flared up in my chest. What if Captain Justice recognized me as the son of the Dread Duo? If he had tracked my parents to Sheepsdale, he might also know about me.

  But Captain Justice didn’t seem to notice me, or much of anything outside his exercise machine. “Greetings, local children!” was all he said. He turned to smile at us, but then the machine grabbed his neck and yanked him into a new position.

  “H-hello, Captain Justice,” Milton said nervously. “I j-just wanted to say that it is an honor and a … a thrill to meet you today.”

  Captain Justice can fly over skyscrapers, juggle boulders, and summon an entire arsenal of holo-weapons. When he isn’t battling the world’s worst bad guys, he can usually be found endorsing some of the world’s bestselling products.

  His hand trembling, Milton reached into his backpack—or what remained of his backpack. The Firebottomed Romper had taken a pretty significant bite out of it. From a tangle of ripped papers and books, he removed a magazine that was still in pretty good shape. Glancing at the cover, I instantly recognized the splashy colors and the bold headlines. It was the new issue of Super Scoop.

  Milton took a step forward, clasping the magazine close to his chest. Captain Justice continued to huff and jog and heave and twist.

  “Um … Mr.—I mean, Captain Justice,” Milton began, “I was wondering, if it isn’t too much trouble, if you might be able to … to sign an autograph for me.”

  “Most certainly!”

  Milton held the magazine out with one hand, a pen gripped in the other. A mechanical arm swung out from the exercise machine and grabbed the pen. With a quick, robotic motion, the device scribbled something onto the cover.

  “See what I mean?” Captain Justice said as the machine signed his autograph for him. “This really improves my efficiency!”

  When the machine was done with the autograph, it attempted to return the pen to Milton, though it looked more like it was trying to stab him in the face. Milton ducked just in time. The pen fell to the ground. Captain Justice went on with his exercise.

  “Wow!” Milton gushed. “Thanks, Captain Justice!”

  “You’re welcome, Marlon! Just don’t believe everything you read in that magazine.” Captain Justice nodded at the copy of Super Scoop. In the next instant, the machine prodded him into a new and torturous position. “A couple of weeks ago, they claimed I was having a secret relationship with Scarlett Flame just because some paparazzi caught us talking together for five minutes outside my agent’s office. On the other hand, Super Scoop is a terrific platform for promotion. My business manager tells me that it reaches a key demographic of—”

  “That’s great, Dad,” Sophie interrupted. “I was going to show them the rest of the house.”

  “Of course, darling!” Captain Justice said. “Enjoy your afternoon!”

  Milton would’ve been happy to stand at Captain Justice’s side for as long as possible, but Sophie was already guiding us out of the room. She led us through an arched doorway, down a hall, and up a winding stairway.

  “I can’t believe Captain Justice gave me his autograph!” Milton whispered to me as we climbed the stairs.

  “Well, technically it’s his exercise machine’s autograph,” I said.

  “I know. It’s amazing!” He held out the magazine, admiring the fresh new signature. I stopped walking when my eyes moved from the autograph to another part of the cover. In the right-hand corner was an image of a smoke creature. Next to it was a section of bold text that read:

  MORE VILL
AINS GO MISSING!

  My chest tightened. I stared at the photograph of the smoke creature. The image was dark and slightly out of focus, but it was definitely the same thing that had attacked at the Vile Fair.

  All the websites about the super community were discussing it too. There’d been dozens more attacks by smoke creatures in the weeks since the Vile Fair. They appeared in supervillains’ homes, or interrupted them in the middle of their evil plots. And each time, it was always the same. The smoke surrounded its victim. A burst of lightning filled the cloud. And then—gone.

  All of a sudden it felt like someone had turned down the thermostat in Sophie’s house by twenty degrees. I couldn’t help thinking about my parents. They were close to tracking down whoever was controlling these things. But what would happen if the smoke came for them first?

  “You coming?” Sophie’s voice echoed in the marble stairway. She and Milton were at the top of the steps, looking down at me.

  I did my best to choke down the knot in my throat and followed them.

  Sophie led us down another winding corridor, in and out of grand rooms that were mostly empty or piled with unpacked cardboard boxes. At the end of a long hallway, Sophie pushed open the door to her bedroom.

  The room wasn’t very big, considering how huge the rest of the house was. There was a desk in the corner, piled with papers and books. A pair of jeans was draped over a nearby chair. Several framed photographs were hanging on the wall, displaying snow-covered trees, tall rock formations rising from the beach, an old brownstone apartment with boarded-up windows.

  Milton immediately began examining one of the photos—a close-up shot of a strand of grass, with a row of buildings in the background.

  “Did these pictures, like, come with the frames?” he asked.

  Sophie looked back at him, offended.

  “No!” she said.

  “Oh. ’Cause they’re really good. I thought they must’ve been professional.”

  The annoyed look on Sophie’s face vanished. “I took those photographs,” she said. For a split second, I thought her power was kicking in again. But she wasn’t glowing this time. She was blushing.

  “Wow! You took these?” Milton looked genuinely impressed. “That’s really cool. Whenever I take pictures, they always come out too dark or blurry or everyone has red eyes. But these are great.”

  “I have a pretty good camera and lens. That makes a difference. And my mom was a professional photographer. So …”

  Sophie’s voice trailed away. It was the first time she’d ever mentioned her mom.

  “I took that one a couple of weeks ago,” she said, pointing to the photo of grass and buildings. “That was the day we moved to Sheepsdale. My dad was in meetings all day, so Stanley took me out to the park with my camera.”

  This brought a smile to Sophie’s face again. I got the feeling she smiled a lot when the subject turned to photography.

  We settled at Sophie’s desk to work on our project.

  “I’m gonna have trouble explaining this.” Milton pulled the remains of our history book out of his mangled backpack. The cover had been ripped away and half the pages were shredded. His notebook was in even worse shape. “Do you think my teachers will believe me if I tell them a Firebottomed Romper ate my homework?”

  “I have another copy of that book,” Sophie said. “In the library.”

  “I’ll get it,” I said.

  “Are you sure? This house can be like a maze sometimes.”

  “I know exactly where it is.”

  Sophie still looked skeptical, but I was already on my feet and halfway across the room. I was looking for an excuse to search around a little on my own. Growing up in a house with supervillains, I’d always wondered what a superhero’s home would look like. So far, all I knew was that it was much—much—bigger.

  “Just take a left at the end of the hallway, then down the stairs, into a room where you’ll see a marble dog beside a tall fireplace, into another hallway, and then you take the third door on your right,” Sophie told me. “Got it?”

  I nodded, trying to keep all the directions straight in my head. Left, down the stairs, marble dog, hallway, third door on the right. No problem.

  At least, that was what I thought. It took me only a minute of wandering around before I got completely lost. Stumbling from one room to the next, I eventually found myself standing in front of a wall that was entirely covered with televisions. Each showed a different video image of an ordinary scene—a street or a sidewalk or a park.

  I stood there, hypnotized. The one nearest to me was of a man walking his dog along a sidewalk, obviously unaware that he was being watched. The dog sniffed a bush, then scratched itself. Its owner began scratching himself as well.

  It was just like the Cafeteria Girls had said. Each television was hooked up to some kind of surveillance video. I watched as the man and his dog continued to scratch themselves.

  And that was when I heard the sounds of someone entering the room next door. Footsteps. Then a voice.

  Peering around the corner, I saw Captain Justice standing at the far end of the room. He was facing the other direction, still wearing his silver exercise outfit, having a conversation with an enormous disembodied head.

  17

  Many years ago, superheroes were mostly vigilantes in spandex tights. Now they’re highly trained media figures. In tights.

  The head was a hologram. Pale blue, flickering like a ghost, it was floating in the air in front of Captain Justice.

  “I have some unpleasant news,” said the hologram.

  “What is it, Fink?” Captain Justice asked.

  “The trend data we’ve gathered shows that your popularity is declining.”

  “Declining? In which demographics?”

  “All of them.”

  Captain Justice slumped forward. “What about the four- to eight-year-old female demographic? I thought you said that was a growing market.”

  “Our research has shown that girls under eight don’t relate to you,” said the hologram named Fink. “They prefer softer, gentler forms of merchandizing. Dolls, kittens, boy bands—that kind of thing.”

  “What can I do to change this?”

  “We’re working on a plush toy. Part of the Huggable Heroes line. Unfortunately, we’ve hit a snag in product testing. It seems that the Huggable Captain Justice is more popular as a chew toy for dogs than as a plaything for young girls.”

  “A chew toy? Is that profitable?”

  “Absolutely. Pet merchandizing is a booming market. We’re already looking into the Captain Justice Scratching Post and Fun Time Climbing Station for Adventurous Cats. Litter box included.”

  “Hmm, yes. I see.” Captain Justice scratched under his headband. “Well, if you think there’s a market, we should pursue it.”

  “Glad to hear you’re on board, Captain J!”

  “What about the other project? I presume you’re still keeping it a secret.”

  Fink nodded his enormous disembodied blue head.

  “I’m the only member of the staff who knows about it at this point.”

  “Good. Let’s keep it that way. We don’t want any of this to leak to the media. Not until we’re ready to make our announcement.”

  “That’s why we’re moving the operation to our remote location. We should be able to continue our work there without interruption.”

  “How do you think the public will react to such a different strategy?”

  “It may take some time for people to get used to the change,” Fink said, “but it’s a step in the right direction, believe me.”

  “You don’t think it’s too … aggressive?”

  “The world is a more aggressive place, Captain J. You’re just adjusting to the times.”

  Captain Justice paused, as if he still wasn’t quite convinced. I leaned forward, curiosity stirring inside me. What kind of project were they talking about? And why keep it so secret? From everything I knew about Captai
n Justice, he wasn’t the kind of guy who ever refused media attention.

  I might’ve leaned a little too far into the room, because for a second I was sure that Fink noticed me. His enormous blue eyes swiveled until he seemed to be looking right at me. I darted behind the corner, clutching my chest as if I could cover the sound of my own pounding heart. Had he seen me? Could a holographic head even see that far? Either way, I didn’t want to stick around to find out. Stepping as softly as possible, I crept backward and out of the room.

  “What took you so long?” Milton asked when I finally found my way back to Sophie’s room. But since he’d just stuffed his mouth full of Justice Jerky, it came out sounding like “Whaa ookk ooh soo ong?”

  My heart was still pounding from the sight of Fink’s enormous blue head. I had no idea what he’d been talking about with Captain Justice, but I decided to keep it to myself.

  “I just got a little turned around,” I explained. I handed him the history book. Luckily, I’d managed to find the library on my way back.

  “I told you this house can be confusing,” Sophie said. “I still get lost too.”

  Milton reached into the half-empty bag of Justice Jerky on the desk next to him and took another huge bite. “Waahsum eef urkee?” he asked.

  Translation: “Want some beef jerky?”

  Sophie shot him a disgusted look. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?”

  Milton shrugged, his cheeks bulging. “Buh iss eelithous!”

  “What?”

  Milton swallowed. “But it’s delicious.” He gave the bag of Justice Jerky an appreciative squeeze. “Seriously, your dad makes the best beef jerky in the world.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he actually makes the stuff. They just slap his name and face onto the package.”

  “Whatever,” Milton said, shoving another handful into his mouth.

  A couple of hours later, Stanley offered to drive us home and Sophie insisted on coming with us. “In case there are any more attacks,” she said.