by Andy Briggs
Checking to be sure the teacher was not standing behind him, Jake went back to Google and typed in the keywords “Basilisk supervillain,” and hit the enter key. Moments later a handful of hits came up, but they were old news stories with headlines along the lines of: SPATE OF TERRORIST ATTACKS BY MASKED VIGILANTE NAMED BASILISK. The accompanying stories didn’t offer much in the way of detail, other than to say the crimes were still unsolved.
Jake was about to close the original article when something caught his attention: its date. Something about that date was bothering him. He used the browser’s “back” button to return to the Scott Baker story. His eye was immediately drawn to the date imprinted at the bottom of the article—Baker died two years after the articles mentioning the masked villain Basilisk.
Basilisk was around long before the accident in Australia. The supervillain had lied to Jake again.
Jake knew about identity theft, when one person uses the name and address of another, effectively stealing their identity in order to extort money from credit cards and bank accounts. That’s why his father insisted they shred everything before throwing it out. Is that what Basilisk was after when he took the name of a dead man?
Jake stabbed the mouse button to clear the articles from the screen. He was feeling betrayed, although part of him couldn’t quite see why. After all, Basilisk was a supervillain—he was supposed to lie. But that small betrayal hurt Jake more than he liked to admit.
Jake looked around the classroom and saw a new kid was staring at him. Had he seen what Jake was doing? Jake was getting increasingly paranoid. Even if the boy had seen, it wouldn’t mean anything to him. If Jake wasn’t careful, then he would be jumping at his own shadow next.
The lunch bell freed Jake from the class, and he was surprised to notice Scuffer disappearing into the crowd without saying a word. That was a welcome relief, as Jake didn’t feel like conversation right now, he had too much on his mind. Instead of crossing the schoolyard, Jake chose to head for the cafeteria through the network of corridors within the main school building. Nobody ever went that way. It kept him out of the way of gossipers and finger-pointers.
With both students and teachers gone, Jake’s footsteps echoed down the long corridor, which was lined with bulletin boards, posters, and half-open classroom doors. The building was old; the white plaster ceiling was heavy with cracks and flickering fluorescent lights.
“Hey, you!” called a voice from behind.
Jake stopped and turned. At the end of the passage stood the new kid from computer class. He was much smaller than Jake, hugged an armful of books defensively, and wore an oddly blank expression.
“What do you want, shorty?” Jake said brusquely. Although he was small, the boy had given Jake pause. Even people who knew him well would normally think twice before calling out to him.
Maybe he wanted an autograph?
The boy started walking fearlessly toward him. “You’re Jake Hunter.”
It was a statement rather than a question. Jake felt his hackles rise and his eyes narrowed suspiciously. In his pocket he felt his phone vibrate, no doubt Big Tony and the others trying to track him down.
“Who wants to know?” Jake asked, as the kid got closer.
“So, you’re Basilisk’s latest sidekick?”
At the mention of the name, Jake felt his blood run cold. Then he remembered that the kid had been sitting next to him while he had been searching the Web. That’s probably where he got the name.
“Get lost, shrimp,” Jake said, turning his back on the kid.
“Oh, I don’t think so, Hunter.”
Jake stopped in his tracks. The voice had changed into something gruffer and then he heard the books clatter to the floor. His mobile kept silently vibrating in his pocket as he took a deep breath and turned.
The kid was growing taller and thinner. His shirt merged with his body as his torso narrowed and extended. His arms and legs grew longer. Small curved talons poked from elongating fingers. His sneakers became broad reptile feet. The boy’s fleshy skin turned mottled and scaly, and his head transformed into something out of a nightmare—saurian, with broad black eyes and a fat swollen tongue that flicked from his mouth. In a matter of seconds, the boy had turned into a six-foot-tall spindly reptile creature hunched forward on two legs, a thin tail snaking out to balance him.
Jake took a step back, his eyes wide. “What the hell are you?”
The lizard-man replied in a voice that sounded as if it had been dragged across sandpaper. “As if you don’t know! They call me the Chameleon, and like you I possess certain …”—the tongue lashed out—” … gifts. And I’m here for you!” Chameleon pointed a slender clawed finger.
“Wait a minute,” said Jake, raising his hands and trying to conjure an escape route. “I think we’re on the same side.”
Chameleon let out a hoarse laugh. “Same side? You mistake my appearance, Hunter. I’m one of the good guys! Both you and Basilisk have led me in a merry dance. I even had to buddy up with the Enforcers to track you down. And they’re not a particularly hygienic bunch.”
“How did you find me?” Jake gasped. It was a pointless question, but he was playing for time as he glanced around the corridor for something he could use as a weapon.
“The scientists in India gave us a pretty good description, blondie. Basilisk we knew of already. He’d left his calling card, the petrified bodies and dust. Your new friend is very ruthless. He even blew apart my partner when we sabotaged his last plan.” Jake’s expression must have given away his surprise. “Oh, don’t you know? We go a long way back, to when he kidnapped the president’s daughter. You should have picked your company more carefully, Hunter. I’ve sworn to bring Basilisk down, and since you have helped him, I’ll bring you down too.
“We don’t know where Basilisk’s hiding out at the moment, but when we detected his SkyKar in the airspace here, and then you destroyed an air force fighter, we knew we were on the right track. A little cross-referencing with any unusual news stories, such as a schoolteacher undergoing psychiatric treatment because he claimed his student was glowing when he set a classroom on fire, and I found your school. Then I just had to make sure it was really you. Using a public computer to search for Basilisk was such a clumsy move I could hardly believe my luck.”
“You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes,” snorted Jake.
“Well, here I am. I’m bringing you to justice.”
Chameleon took a step forward, claws clicking on the old parquet floor. Jake tensed, then dived through an open classroom door. As Chameleon clattered into the room, Jake scrambled under a table. The desks in this classroom were long and had been pushed together to accommodate group exercises, making little islands across the room.
“Tried to go invisible, have we?” hissed Chameleon as he leaped up on top of a desk, out of Jake’s sight.
Jake heard the gentle patter of claws, and the desk above him shifted slightly as Chameleon stood on it. As silently as possible, Jake crawled across a gap between tables, and hid under another group just as a scaly fist smashed through the wood and clawed the air where his head had been moments before.
“I know you’re here, Hunter. I can smell your stench!”
Jake’s phone vibrated yet again, giving him an idea. In a last act of desperation he could call the police. Nobody had recognized him from the mugshot on the news, so it was worth the risk that the police wouldn’t either, and he might get this freak behind bars.
“You can’t stay hidden forever, Hunter,” intoned Chameleon. It was lucky Chameleon assumed that Jake still had his powers, or else he would have just ripped up every desk until he got to him.
Jake slid out his phone, his thumb already moving to dial the cops. But when he glanced at the display he hesitated—he had received three text messages from Villain.net.
With a shaking hand he opened the first: it was a simple Web link. Jake resisted slapping his forehead to drum out the stupidity; his phone was capable of
surfing the Web. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?
Trembling, he initiated the link, and the screen flipped to a shrunken version of Villain.net. The icons were too small to clearly make out, but Jake didn’t care. He toggled randomly over them and clicked away.
The desk above his head shifted as the hero jumped across. A set of claws appeared on the edge of the desk and Chameleon’s inverted head followed. He looked right at Jake, his vertical pupils narrowing gleefully.
“There you are. And fresh out of powers, I guess?”
“Guess again,” snarled Jake, thrusting out his palms to fire a volley of, well, something. Instead his jaw painfully extended and a black swarm shot from his mouth, straight at Chameleon with a terrible buzz. The stream stopped, and Jake spat lumps from his mouth in disgust. When he looked at Chameleon he felt sick. He’d exhaled a mass of flies, and they were orbiting the lizard, trying to bite his scaly skin. Chameleon’s tongue darted out, and in two flicks he had swallowed the entire swarm.
Jake was irate. “What kind of stupid superpower was that?”
“You should take more care in what you pick,” Chameleon hissed with delight.
Anger welled in Jake and he felt his palms heat up. He extended them again and hoped. This time a blinding light shot out and crashed into the underside of the desk. Jake just had enough presence of mind to roll aside as the table above him shot toward the ceiling in a trail of fire—Chameleon perched on top, riding it all the way as it ploughed into the tiles before dropping onto a cabinet. Stacks of textbooks spilled on the ground.
Jake stood as Chameleon groaned, pushing away the charred desk that pinned him. Before Jake could react, Chameleon performed a serpentine flip onto his feet and swayed in front of Jake like a prize boxer.
“Not bad,” hissed the lizard, spitting a glob of blood on the floor. “Let me show you something really impressive.”
Chameleon spun around. His tail whipped out, extending until it coiled around Jake like a boa constrictor. Jake’s arms were pinned to his side as the breath was crushed from him. With a powerful flick, Chameleon hoisted Jake off the ground and skittered toward him.
“Just a little tighter and you’ll lose consciousness,” Chameleon said as he increased his grip, forcing another gasp from Jake. “Don’t worry, Hunter. I’m one of the good guys, so I won’t butcher you like your boss did my partner.”
“Whatever he did to you has nothing to do with me!” Jake pleaded in short breaths.
“I want my revenge. You picked your partner badly, kiddo. There’s no way you’re getting out of this!”
WHAM! Something heavy connected with the back of Chameleon’s head, forcing the lizard to slump forward and release Jake. His tail snapped back to size as he fell to his knees. Jake instantly flexed both hands forward and another blinding jolt of light swept Chameleon off the floor and smashed him powerfully through the glass window, into the thorny shrubbery outside.
Jake forced air back into his lungs. He looked up at his savior. Scuffer stood with a fire extinguisher in one hand and a dumbfounded look on his face.
“We better get out of here before that thing comes back. Then you have some major explainin’ to do, dude.”
A Plan Unveiled
The dry crack of Knuckles’s fist drew Jake out of his reverie. He was standing under the shelter offered by a tree as the rain lashed the boughs. Scuffer, Knuckles, and Big Tony were keeping their distance from him but dared not look away.
“I still don’t believe any of this,” squeaked Knuckles.
“See if I care,” retorted Jake.
Scuffer had ordered the gang out of school and told them what he had witnessed. Jake filled in the gaps, secretly happy, finally, to be able to talk about what had happened. But their questions came pouring out, and he was now beginning to regret opening his mouth. After all, why should they get any fun out of Villain.net?
Then another thought popped into his head. Chameleon knew who he was. That meant the Enforcers would too. Home was no longer safe. How was he going to explain that to his parents? He felt a pang of sadness. All the times he had been sent home from school with bad reports, a suspension, and, on a few occasions, angry parents of the kids he had picked on, he had never felt remorse.
But now he did.
Now he realized that his actions would upset them in a way that was deep and personal. The news would crush them, distressing his parents to a degree he had never seen before. What would they do? Throw him out of the house? Disown him?
“But you’re an alien?” Big Tony said in awe.
Jake looked incredulous. The others started to laugh.
“That’s what he told me!” blurted Big Tony.
“An alien? That’s what you think I am? Do you know how that sounds?”
Scuffer’s laughter suddenly evaporated. “About as crazy as you climbin’ into a flyin’ car or fightin’ some kid who transformed into a lizard.”
Jake’s smile faded. “Guys, trust me. This is not something you want to get involved in.”
“Bit late for that, don’t you think?” said Scuffer, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Jake regarded them all levelly. Then with a sigh, he explained again: “I’ve already told you. I’m what you call a supervillain.” He winced, aware of how lame that sounded. “I downloaded some powers from the Web, and kidnapped that gallery owner …” He trailed away. Knuckles and Big Tony looked as though they didn’t need much convincing.
“That was you?” Big Tony said in awe. “Wow, that bank job—”
Jake was exasperated. “What bank?”
Big Tony blinked in surprise. “The National Bank downtown was robbed the other day. My mom opened an account for me there … wait a minute. You didn’t rob anything, did ya?”
“No, I didn’t! That wasn’t me!”
Big Tony looked suspiciously at him. “The crooks blew up half the road, but the cops stopped them from getting away with five million! That’s why every city across the country’s been on high alert. Helicopters everywhere, armed cops—”
“I just did the kidnapping,” snapped Jake. “That is my claim to fame!”
Scuffer was silent for a moment as he tried to work things out. “So, that lizard kid, was he a superhero? That why he attacked you?”
Jake shrugged. “Yeah.”
“So how many of these superguys are there?”
“Many,” boomed a new voice. Everybody whirled around to see Basilisk.
“That’s a bizarre costume,” said Scuffer.
The eyes beneath Basilisk’s hood flared. “You have involved your friends in this, Hunter?”
Jake hesitated. It was as if his dad was reprimanding him. “I had no choice. Scuff here saved … uh … helped me out when some freak attacked me.”
“Chameleon. I heard he was on your trail, trying to track us down. And he did a fine job, I see. Yet again, you left an incompetent mess behind.”
“Shut up!” snapped Jake as he raised a finger at Basilisk. “I had enough of that from the freak. I don’t need it from you. What I want from you are some answers.”
He heard a sharp intake of breath from his gang in anticipation of a fight. Jake half-expected Basilisk to knock him to the floor with a backhand, unleash a power on him, or at the very least shout. Instead he crossed his arms.
“What do you wish to know?”
“You knew Chameleon was closing in on me?”
“That’s why I sent the text message to your phone. The powers drawn from that device are not as potent as normal, but it was better than nothing. Otherwise you’d be in Chameleon’s hands now.”
“And would you have come to spring me?” asked Jake, although he figured he already knew the answer.
Basilisk ignored the question. “Your powers will have faded by now. We’re still working out the kinks in using the mobile technology. Luckily, Chameleon is a little new to this modern approach to superpowers. He’s what we call a Prime.”
“A Prime?”
“One who possesses his powers naturally, rather than downloading them.”
“Just like you. He said he wants you dead.”
“Still? He’s a fearsome opponent, and I guess he was being gentle with you until he could ascertain just how much of a threat you are. Your next encounter will be far less civilized than that one. But right now, we have more important matters to attend to. Come.”
Scuffer stepped forward. “Where can I download these powers from?”
Jake scowled and stepped in front of him. “Wait a minute. What about my family?”
“What about them?”
“If Chameleon tracked me down, then he’ll know where I live. I want to make sure he hasn’t harmed my family.”
“Your family is safe.”
“How do you know?”
“The Enforcers do not kill innocent people. Their job includes making sure the public remains unaware of the superpowered. It would not be much of a secret if they talked about it to your parents.”
Jake held his ground, unsure whether he should trust him. Basilisk strode forward and gripped Jake’s arm. He tried to resist but the villain was just too strong.
“What about them?” Jake asked, gesturing at his crew.
Basilisk cast his gaze among the three silent companions. “They can come too. The next step is a dual mission. If you want company, then why not take some disposable assets? Grab ahold of each other.”
Scuffer sniggered. “What? Hold hands? What d’you think I am?”
Basilisk loomed menacingly over Scuffer. “Right now you are nothing more than a henchman. Grab each other or you will be left behind!”
Big Tony grabbed Knuckles’s hand. Knuckles shot him a venomous look and shook him off, instead grabbing Big Tony’s shoulder. Jake reached out and gripped Scuffer’s shoulder.
“Why are we doing this?”
“They have been tracking the SkyKar so we can no longer use it. We are teleporting to the base.”
Seconds before they teleported, Jake thought he saw the storm clouds on the horizon suddenly change direction and drift to form a tornado funnel. He suddenly remembered Doc Tempest and his weather machine just as a thunderclap boomed across the forest, and the five figures vanished in a flicker of light.
