Kid Normal and the Rogue Heroes

by Greg James

  ‘We’re under attack!’ someone shouted. ‘Advance! Capes at the ready!’

  ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this …’ another voice warned.

  ‘Any news from the scouting party? They should be back by now!’

  ‘Here they come!’

  Two hunched figures were hurrying towards them through the woodland. One, dressed in a tight-fitting red costume, was supporting the other – a smaller man in drab brown overalls, who was moaning and clutching his head.

  ‘He’s been hit!’ panted the man in red.

  ‘That voice … yes! It’s Mr Souperman!’ exclaimed Murph.

  And indeed, they could now clearly see that the Hero in red was a younger version of their head teacher.

  ‘And that’s Drench!’ added Mary.

  Here, we can see Captain Alpha and his faithful sidekick, the Weasel – two of the founder members of our organisation. They were in the vanguard as the Alliance closed in on its first and greatest enemy at his hidden base: the abandoned tunnels of Scarsdale Quarry.

  ‘He was ready for us!’ Captain Alpha told the rest of the group. ‘We crept into the quarry so Weasel could listen out for clues, but as we got close, he was hit by that horrible purple lightning. It came out of the tunnels with no warning. I managed to drag him clear, but … part of his Cape’s gone.’

  ‘My hearing!’ wailed the smaller man. ‘Why weren’t any of you there to back us up?’

  ‘No time for that kind of thinking, my friend,’ Captain Alpha said. ‘We’ve lost the element of surprise. We all have to get in there before he has a chance to flee. Let’s roll!’

  As one, the Heroes sprinted back through the wood, retracing Captain Alpha’s steps. The film was old and the camera kept shaking, but Murph thought he could see a pair of tall, slender women who looked very much like the Gemini Sisters amongst them.

  They all gathered at the treeline, looking down at a large bare hill. In the middle of the slope, like a bite out of a big green apple, sat a white quarry with steep stone sides.

  ‘There’s no cover!’ someone quailed. ‘We’ll be sitting ducks!’

  It was on this day that the Heroes’ Vow was first taken. In order to save the world of Heroes from its greatest threat, these exceptional men and women had made a solemn promise.

  ‘We vowed to fight without fear, remember?’ Captain Alpha told them. ‘Fear is his greatest weapon.’ Voices rose in agreement.

  ‘We’re with you all the way.’

  ‘We stick together.’

  ‘For the Alliance! Come on, CHARGE!’

  The Heroes raced out of the wood and began streaming down the rocky slope towards dark openings at the bottom of the quarry. But as they approached, several things happened at once: they were met by a volley of explosions, then a strange forked lightning arced out towards them, sending sharp stone shards flying in all directions. Some of the Heroes were blown off their feet by a huge energy force. Others suddenly slumped to the ground, as if they had run into an invisible wall. And strangest of all, several large boulders rolled terrifyingly up the slope towards them, bouncing and crashing, obliterating anything in their path.

  ‘It’s Magpie, using all his Capes!’ marvelled Hilda.

  The Heroes might have promised to fight without fear, continued the voiceover, but the Rogue they were up against was determined to attack without mercy. His name was Magpie.

  The Super Zeroes looked at each other, wide-eyed.

  Magpie’s power was unique – and terrifying. He had the ability to steal another person’s Capability.

  By sheer force of will, some of the Heroes had finally succeeded in reaching the base of the quarry. The camera zoomed in, revealing that the dark circles in the rock face were tunnel entrances. The largest of these was sealed with thick metal doors.

  All at once, there was a flash of purplish light and a huge crash, and the doors caved in. Brightly clothed figures disappeared inside with a confusion of shouts and explosions.

  ‘Watch out for that lightning!’ Murph heard someone cry.

  ‘Keep your eyes peeled! Don’t leave any escape routes open!’ yelled someone else.

  The camera panned round to show Captain Alpha crouched at the top of the slope, one comforting hand on the shoulder of the Weasel, who sat morosely beside him. Other Heroes were taking up position around them, eyes fixed on the tunnel entrances below.

  Occasionally the footage would jerk about as more explosions resounded through the quarry. The air was filled with flying debris and flashes of lightning. For a brief moment, the camera pointed upwards into the grey sky as a rainbow of different shades of blue streaked across it. Murph and Mary exchanged a significant glance. They knew of only one vehicle that produced that effect: the Banshee. Clearly the Blue Phantom had been involved in this battle somehow, but they looked in vain for her trademark silvery-blue armour.

  There was another massive explosion.

  ‘He’s coming!’ a woman’s voice shouted, followed by a terrified scream.

  The footage went static and grainy for a few seconds.

  By the time the camera refocused, smoke could be seen pouring from the tunnels – and several figures were lying on the ground outside. A dark silhouette was racing unnaturally fast up the rocky slope, surrounded by crackling bolts of electricity: Magpie himself. Those Heroes who were still on their feet were dashing frantically around the top of the quarry to head him off.

  Magpie was ruthless, said the voiceover. Determined to evade the newly formed Alliance at all costs, he carried out a shockingly evil act. Using all the Capabilities at his command, he had rigged the entire area to explode, and while brave Heroes were still inside searching for him, he brought Scarsdale crashing down on top of them.

  The Super Zeroes were all silent and open-mouthed now, bathed in the blue light of the TV screen. Hilda reached out a hand and squeezed Murph’s shoulder.

  If the footage hadn’t been so old and primitive, the Super Zeroes would have been convinced that what happened next was nothing more than a special effect. As they gazed on in horror, the whole quarry began collapsing in on itself. A huge cloud of dust spread from the centre outwards.

  Before the cloud closed in, Murph caught a glimpse of what was taking place on the other side of the quarry. The small dark silhouette of Magpie had reached the top, but by now several other figures were converging on the same spot. One figure got close, only to be surrounded with purple fire and drop to the ground. Then, still wrapped in that unearthly light, the figure was picked up, as if by a giant invisible hand, and flung over the quarry edge.

  ‘Sir Jasper!’ gasped Murph. ‘Magpie took his Cape! Then dropped him!’

  ‘That’s what happened to his legs!’ Mary exclaimed.

  Rising dust was cutting off their view of the scene, but they could make out more purple lightning bolts striking yet more Heroes. Just before they lost sight of Magpie completely, a large figure leaped on him from behind and knocked him to the ground.

  Heroes refer to that fateful day as the Scarsdale Incident. Many brave men and women were lost; many more had their Capabilities taken. But thanks to their sacrifice, Magpie was captured and brought to justice. This film is intended to serve as a reminder that it is only by working together that the world of Heroes can survive and flourish. That is the founding principle of the Heroes’ Alliance.

  And finally, the words they’d seen earlier:

  THE END

  There was total silence in the room. The Super Zeroes looked at each other, stunned and unable to find words to describe what they’d just seen. At last the tape began to rewind itself with a click and a hum.

  ‘Magpie … he killed so many Heroes!’ said Hilda in a tiny, horrified whisper.

  ‘No wonder nobody likes talking about it …’ said Murph ‘Sir Jasper, Mr Souperman, Mr Drench – they all must have lost friends that day.’

  ‘And Flora was there,’ added Mary. ‘Carl too. Remember in his workshop yesterday? He didn
’t even want her to hear the name Magpie. I wonder what they lost?’

  Murph pondered this question, thinking back to the stooped old man he’d visited in prison the previous week and finally realising exactly what he was capable of. He shivered.

  Miss Flint gazed out of her office window at Shivering Sands, across the grey sea. One hand toyed idly with her HALO unit. She was brooding on Kid Normal’s visit to Magpie.

  She’d brushed it off at the time as a bust, pure and simple. Nothing had been gained, but as long as the boy didn’t tell anyone, she had lost nothing either. Since then, though, as she’d been busy with the day-today running of the Heroes’ Alliance, that stupid poem wouldn’t leave her alone. The words nagged at her, like an irritating song you can’t get out of your head.

  Three for anger … four for grief.

  There was a tentative knock at the door, and a weedy voice fluted out the words, ‘Bin changing!’

  ‘In!’ Miss Flint called sharply, being one of those people who are far too managerial to use the full phrase ‘Come in.’

  A shabby-looking little man shuffled in, dragging a large metal dustbin behind him.

  ‘It’s over there in the corner,’ Miss Flint told him dismissively, in a tone of voice that implied ‘Be quick please, I’m busy.’ She indicated the small wastepaper basket, and turned her attention back to the view across the waves.

  ‘Lovely …’ said the little man, sidling towards the corner.

  As he did so, a truly hideous stench met Miss Flint’s nose. It smelled like someone had taken bin juice, distilled it into a pungent perfume and then decided to wear the whole bottle. She gagged slightly, hoping the bin person would finish his job quickly and leave.

  ‘We’ll just put this one over here,’ said the man to himself in a sing-song voice. ‘And this one … on your HEAD!’

  That was an odd thing to say, thought Miss Flint, but before she could turn round, the large metal bin had been clanged down over her head.

  ‘What on earth!’ she managed to exclaim, before there was a huge crash as Mr Drench jumped up on to the desk, pirouetted like an extremely smelly ballet dancer and kicked the side of the bin as hard as he could. Miss Flint was knocked out cold.

  ‘Yes! Yes! Hahaha haaaa! Victory! DoomWeasel strikes again!’ cackled Mr Drench maniacally – even though, strictly speaking, he’d never actually struck before. But somehow ‘DoomWeasel strikes again’ sounded more dastardly and impressive than ‘DoomWeasel strikes for the first time!’

  He capered on top of the bin like a crazed, stinky little monkey, banging the metal with his fists and chanting, ‘Doom, doom, doom, doom, weasely, weasely, weasel!’

  In a momentary break from his banging, DoomWeasel heard the croaky voice of Magpie rise from deep under the sea. ‘Excel lent work, Dre–, I mean … DoomWeasel. Now, my friend – bring her to me. Quickly! We must act fast to bring my plan to fruition!’

  ‘I will not fail!’ spluttered Mr Drench, jumping off the bin and beginning to roll it towards the door.

  ‘For I am DoomWeasel! And I have strucked! Strucken! Strickened!’

  Below the ocean, Magpie rolled his eyes slightly, but there was nobody there to see.

  Miss Flint awoke some time later with a headache and a ringing in her ears, as if she’d been to a loud concert and stood too close to the speakers. Or, more accurately, like she’d had a bin shoved over her head and a mad weasel-like person had kicked it before proceeding to hit it repeatedly with his fists.

  She wondered groggily where she was. The light was dim and greenish-tinted, and the floor beneath her was damp, cold stone.

  ‘Welcome,’ said an unfamiliar voice from below her.

  Miss Flint shivered involuntarily. There was something about the tone of the voice that chilled her to the marrow. Desperately trying to shake the fog from her head, she peered into the gloom and saw a ragged, pale figure dressed in black far below her.

  She sat up in total panic.

  ‘Magpie!’ she shrieked in alarm. ‘What … how on earth did I get down here?’

  ‘The what and the how are very much the least of your worries,’ croaked Magpie, stalking towards her. ‘It’s the why that you should be terrified about.’

  Miss Flint heard the cameras up above moving as they tracked Magpie. She sighed a tiny sigh of relief. At least the security system that kept him imprisoned was still working. Plus, she could see that he was still safely contained within the white circle on the floor. But as she plunged a hand into a pocket to grab her HALO unit and call for backup, her eyes widened in horror. There was something in there, but it certainly wasn’t the cold metallic casing of the communications device. She pulled her hand back out to reveal an ancient blackened potato, covered in hairy green sprouts and oozing with slime.

  ‘Looking for this?’ hooted a second voice.

  A pungent but horribly familiar waft floated past Miss Flint’s nostrils. She turned to see another, much smaller man standing above her at the top of the stone stairs. He was hopping from foot to foot, waving the HALO unit triumphantly over his head and cackling. ‘It worked! It worked! I have defeated the Heroes in one fell swoop! For I am DoomWeasel! Most evil and most powerful of them all.’

  ‘Did you put this revolting potato in my pocket instead?’ asked Miss Flint in disgust.

  ‘A little souvenir from my home,’ slobbered DoomWeasel as he continued to brandish the HALO unit boastfully. But his hands were slippy with bin slime, and he almost dropped it.

  ‘Careful, you idiot!’ snapped Magpie with biting sharpness. He swiftly recovered himself. He still needed this creepy little spud-concealer if his plan was going to work. ‘Just … make sure nothing derails our plans at this late stage, my little friend. Now, throw the unit to me, and we shall show these … pah! … these so-called Heroes who is really in charge.’

  DoomWeasel had looked a little crestfallen at being called an idiot, but he perked up at the mention of the Heroes’ imminent downfall. ‘With pleasure,’ he said, and he threw the HALO unit to Magpie, who caught it deftly and laughed in delight.

  Miss Flint tried to struggle to her feet, but she was still sick and dizzy from her recent imprisonment in the bin – or bin-prisonment, if you will.

  ‘I’ll deal with you in a moment,’ said Magpie casually. ‘First, we need to … even the playing field. You’ve been in charge a little too long. Things have got stale. I think it’s about time we gave your Heroes’ Alliance the leader it really deserves. Someone who truly understands the purpose of power.’

  DoomWeasel clapped his hands delightedly and capered around. ‘He’s talking about himself!’ he cackled.

  ‘She knows that,’ snapped Magpie irritably, before once again regaining his temper. He needed to concentrate for this. It was a moment he had planned for years.

  Holding the HALO unit in one hand, he gestured towards it with the spindly fingers of the other. Purple lightning crackled around the handset as it rose into the air of its own accord, spinning around faster and faster, trapped in a web of dancing purple light. Magpie’s expression was fixed, his eyes glazed over as he concentrated.

  After a few moments the lights subsided, and the HALO unit sank back into his outstretched palm. Only now, instead of green, its screen glowed an eerie purple.

  ‘The HALO system is ours!’ squeaked DoomWeasel with glee. ‘We can contact Heroes! Summon them! Or find out where they are! We control the entire Heroes’ Alliance!’

  ‘You are absolutely correct, my friend,’ Magpie mused. ‘And that being the case, I am sorry to say that you’ – he fixed his eyes on Miss Flint – ‘are now surplus to requirements.’

  He stabbed his hands towards her viciously. Miss Flint screamed as she was enveloped in a web of purple lightning.

  14

  The Heroes’ Memorial

  ‘How … how many Heroes do you think were in his base when it exploded?’ asked Hilda in a small voice.

  ‘Well, we saw loads of them running down
into the quarry, didn’t we?’ answered Murph solemnly. Hilda shook her head in dismay.

  It was the end of the school day, and the five Super Zeroes were trailing down the passageway towards the front gates. Deborah Lamington was on duty at the main doors, keeping a watchful eye on the constant stream of students heading out into the afternoon sunlight. Mary gave her a little wave.

  ‘Scarsdale is puzzling me,’ she said to the rest of the Zeroes. ‘Does Magpie’s poem have anything to do with the Heroes who died that day? There’s got to be something we’re missing ...’

  ‘What are you lot up to? asked Deborah. ‘You’ve got plotting faces on.’

  Murph noticed that she had swapped her usual fringed leather jacket for something quite different.

  ‘Nice cardigan,’ he said, with a slight smile.

  ‘Hmmm, do you really think so?’ replied Deborah. ‘I’m not sure about it. I’m trying to be a bit more teacherly. Or teacher-esque ... But I think I sort of hate it. Anyway,’ she continued, ‘why are you all going on about Scarsdale?’

  Mary reddened. She must have been speaking more loudly than she intended. ‘Oh, it’s just a name we saw on an … old videotape,’ she said, earning herself a quizzical look. ‘Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘A videotape? Old school!’ said Deborah. ‘I thought you must have seen it writ ten on that old stone monument in the woods.’

  All five Super Zeroes tried desperately not to look like this was exciting new information that they wanted to investigate immediately. But Nellie couldn’t help grabbing Billy’s arm, giving him a small static shock, and Hilda did an involuntary tap dance of anticipation.

  Deborah regarded Hilda curiously. ‘You lot are in a weird mood today,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Worms,’ said Murph, pointing a thumb at Hilda, who smiled innocently. ‘Erm … so, this monument? It sounds intriguing. I love, you know, monumental architecture and stuff. Bit of a hobby of mine. Must go and have a look when I have a spare half hour. Where did you say it was again?’ He raised his eyebrows, attempting to look casual, when in fact he looked about as relaxed as a balloon in a pin factory.