Small Town Superhero Box Set: Complete Series

by Cheree Alsop

  “So?” Magnum pressed.

  I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant while my heart sped up at the idea. “Sounds like you haven’t given me much of a choice.”

  “To the factory!” Magnum shouted.

  Cheers went up and everyone scrambled for the trucks. I took off down the road. Adrenaline rushed through my veins at the thought of the race while my mind argued that it was a bad idea. I turned on the dirt road and glanced back to see the other bikes following. Street bikes weren’t meant for dirt and rocks. My tires spun and threatened to skid out from under me, but I managed to keep it steady. I pulled up to the factory and waited at the starting line. The other riders pulled up a few minutes later. They revved their engines while we waited for the trucks to arrive. My heart thundered in my ears.

  Magnum pushed back the visor on his blue helmet. “Hope you know what you’re getting in to,” he said just loud enough above the sound of the engines so that only I could hear him. I kept my visor down and just nodded. “When everyone gets here, we’ll do two laps—two full laps,” he said. “Any cheating and you’ll be called out for the coward you are. Beat me, and you get the keys to Principal Dawson’s car. Lose,” he grinned as if it was inevitable, “the Bullets will chase you out of town and no one will stop us.”

  I revved my engine in response. The trucks pulled in around us to form a half circle at the starting line. Students piled out and everyone looked as excited as I felt. Shouting and laughter filled the air. I studied the tire marks on the pavement. I had never completed a full circuit around the track. I would have to tail the others until the second lap just to make sure I knew the course. Even then, my bike couldn’t beat Magnum’s CBR through sheer speed. I hoped luck was on my side.

  All thirteen of the Bullet members waited on their motorcycles at the starting line. It seemed everyone was determined to beat the Black Rider. The commotion of the crowd rose; excitement shone on faces and students shouted to each other over the roar of the engines. Everyone jostled for a good place to view the race. Students lined up in the backs of trucks and on the makeshift tables. I found Cassidy in the crowd talking excitedly with her friends. I let out a slow breath and turned my attention to the race.

  A girl with long blonde hair strode to the front of the line. She took off her white cowboy hat and waved it in the air. “Riders, ready!” Engines revved and some riders spun their tires. It was a waste of traction, so I wasn’t tempted to show off. A roar rose from the students. They were cheering. A smile spread across my face at the chant of “Black Rider, Black Rider” they repeated over and over again.

  I touched the throttle and felt the engine hum beneath me.

  “Go!” the girl shouted. She threw her hat in the air and everyone surged forward.

  I rode as close to Magnum’s bike as I dared. Riders inched up around us, but it seemed no one would pass their leader while he and the Black Rider fought for the lead. We took the first turn to the left low enough that our knees scraped the cement, then we darted into the wide warehouse doors and raced across the smooth floor.

  The second turn took us up a low ramp, across a stretch of metal set between two roofs, then down a shallow set of stairs with a sharp turn to the right. Magnum must have realized I was following his cues because he faked to the left, but I kept a close eye on the bikers behind me and continued straight. A glance back showed that the left track would have left me in a dead end of rotten timbers.

  Magnum hunched down, took another low left, and then I saw the starting line ahead. The first lap was almost over. Magnum was cautious around corners. I didn’t know if he was worried about laying his bike down or tired of wearing holes in the knees of his jeans, but I could beat him at the corners. Confident, I downshifted and gunned ahead.

  Just before I reached the trucks, Magnum kicked my back tire. My bike skidded toward the crowd of students. They pressed back, but there was no chance they would get out of the way in time. I leaned on the handlebars and kept the front wheel aiming around the corner, then rolled off the throttle and revved it again. The bike righted itself and I let out a frustrated breath as I fought to pull ahead of the other Bullets to reach Magnum again.

  He glanced back and his eyes narrowed when he saw me closing the distance again. He cut a corner and I followed, then he jerked right on a different course than the one we took for the first lap. Magnum drove up a flight of cement stairs. I gritted my teeth and popped the clutch, then gunned it and flew up after him. The roar of the other motorcycles echoed as they continued along the regular track.

  My sense of direction told me the finish line was north. I turned left when I reached the roof and gunned it across the flat surface. Magnum headed down another ramp and hit the ground a few feet in front of his gang. There was a straightaway past two warehouses and then the turn to the finish line.

  I made what could have been the most foolhardy decision of my life. I rode past Magnum’s ramp. There was a pile of boxes and wood debris at the end of the roof. The second warehouse’s roof was a few feet higher than the first. I downshifted and the bike surged forward. I popped the clutch and the front tire jumped, then I revved the back tire and flew up the debris.

  In the brief seconds I was airborne, I saw the crowd of students far below. Some had hands to their faces; others were cheering. All I heard was the growl of my motorcycle’s engine just before the tires hit the roof. I sped across the aluminum with my heart thundering in my ears. What on earth would I find on the other side of the roof to slow my descent?

  This roof sloped slightly downward. There was no lip to jump or debris in the way—only a straight fall to the asphalt below that I hurdled toward without any way of stopping. I made a split-second decision and braked hard enough to send up smoke from my back tire before I popped the clutch again and brought the front end in the air. My only hope was to land on the back tire. Impacting both from that distance would definitely jack me up.

  I hit the end of the roof. Time slowed. The engine rumbled and I saw the blurred forms of the other bikers as I descended. I balanced on my pegs and prayed that the helmet Jagger gave me would hold if I biffed it entirely. My heart gave two loud beats, then I hit the ground with my weight centered on the rear wheel. The front tire landed and I skidded to a stop just past the finish line facing the oncoming riders. My heart thundered in my chest and my breath came in short bursts.

  I was grateful the dark shield hid my face from view when the crowd of students burst into cheers. I had not been in control of the situation at all. I should have taken the ramp, or I should have wrecked the landing. I vowed never to do that again.

  Magnum slid to a stop a few feet from me and pulled off his helmet. He looked from where I sat on the bike to the rooftop. His eyes were wide and he looked as if he, too, was trying to control his breathing. It had been a hard race.

  “You’re insane,” he said.

  “That was awesome!” someone from the audience shouted. Cheers rose again in deafening thunder.

  Magnum gave a nod of approval. “That was incredible.” He held out his gloved fist.

  Surprised, I bumped knuckles with him.

  “So we’re heading back to Maggie’s, if you want to join us,” he offered.

  My mouth fell open and I was glad he couldn’t see it with my visor down. I collected myself and shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ve got things to do.”

  “Like saving the world from bullies?” he asked, only half-teasing.

  I tried to keep the smile out of my voice when I replied, “You should try being nice sometime. You might like it.”

  A laugh escaped him and he tossed something in the air. I caught the keys and put them in my jacket pocket. I glanced at the crowd. I wasn’t much for showing off, but after that ride even I felt like I should milk the situation for what it was worth. I grinned beneath the helmet and waved at the students. The crowd roared in response. It was a strange feeling to know that so many people approved of me without knowing who I was.
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  My eyes fell on Cassidy and Sandy, who were pressed in with the front row. Cassidy was studying me as if I was familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. Then her gaze settled on my shoes and her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open in shock. I had to have the one farm-girl cousin in the country who would recognize a pair of worn-out black sneakers. Great.

  I would have to deal with that later. I took a deep breath. With everything that had happened, it couldn’t hurt to make a good exit. I popped the clutch and drove out of the factory on a wheelie. I felt somewhat foolish because the ride had been complete luck, but I also felt a glimmer of hope at Magnum’s response. Perhaps I could make a difference for Sparrow after all.

  I HAD JUST LEFT the dirt road when red-and-blue lights flashed behind me. For a second I was tempted to gun it and outdistance the officer, but a voice in the back of my mind reminded me that I was trying to improve Sparrow, not give the town a fugitive to go with its gang problem.

  I pulled to the side and shut off the engine. I kept my helmet on, but knew the officer would probably make me take it off. Trepidation filled my chest at what would happen after that. I glanced back and felt my foreboding double. The car behind me said “Sheriff.” I faced forward and waited for whatever fate he would decide.

  The car door opened and shut, then the crunch of boots on gravel sounded loud in the moonlit night. “I thought I’d catch up with you sooner or later.” The man spoke in a slow drawl, his words evenly spaced and hiding any expression.

  He stopped by the side of the motorcycle and I glanced at him. Sheriff Bowley sported a flat-rimmed brown hat, and had a short-trimmed brown mustache and beard. He wore a tan shirt with his badge over his heart and a patch bearing his department information on the shoulder. His tie was perfectly straight and his shirt looked like it was freshly pressed. I was glad to see he wasn’t the type to wear sunglasses at night to intimidate the local hooligans. “Jagger said you’re a good sort,” he said.

  I shrugged. “I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just don’t think the Bullets should have the run of Sparrow.”

  He pushed back his hat. “That makes two of us.”

  I studied him for a minute through the dark shade of my visor. Tinted visors really weren’t made for night riding, but given the circumstances, I was grateful for it. “Was I doing something wrong, Sheriff?”

  His mouth pressed into a firm line that looked like it was hiding a smile. “That’s questionable, don’t you think?” When I didn’t answer, he said, “I watched the security tapes from Joe’s. Even though you guys destroyed the place, he doesn’t want to press charges. He said he’s hoping the Bullets will learn their lesson.”

  “What do you think?” I asked quietly.

  He gave a snort. “I’d say this town has more to worry about than Magnum’s gang.”

  His tone sent a thrum of warning through me. “What do you mean?”

  He glanced at the ground, then turned his attention to the black velvet sky. “I shouldn’t involve you in this, and I wouldn’t if I had any other choice.”

  “I’m already involved, Sheriff,” I answered.

  A grim smile broke free and he gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Don’t say I didn’t try to leave you out of this.”

  “I’m asking to be involved.”

  He let out a breath, then said, “Magnum’s mixed up with some pretty deep stuff. He’s in over his head and I think he knows it.” He glanced at me. “There’s a gang from Nevada trying to run drugs and weapons, using Sparrow as a drop point. Magnum’s become their contact. We know something big is going down soon, but we don’t know exactly where or when. I need someone on the inside who can get the information and pass it back to us.”

  I fought down a laugh at the thought of myself as his inside man. Magnum couldn’t stand me. If he knew I was the Black Rider, he’d probably beat me to a pulp and leave me at the bottom of a wash somewhere. Getting inside information from the Bullets wouldn’t work, but the sheriff was right to be concerned. Sparrow couldn’t handle drugs running through it. It was an innocent, quiet town and deserved to stay that way.

  “I’ll help however I can,” I said quietly.

  He pulled a business card from his pocket and gave it to me. “Call me at that number if you hear anything suspicious.”

  “Yes, sir.” I slipped the card in my jacket.

  The sheriff turned to go, then paused. “You’re not to run interference or try to break things up yourself, you hear? I don’t want anyone getting hurt in this if I can help it.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Sheriff?” He crossed back to the motorcycle. “There’s more to the Bullets than meets the eye. Why doesn’t anyone put a stop to what they do?”

  He thought about it for a minute—truly thought about it with his arms behind his back and his head bowed. When he spoke again, there was a deep heaviness to his tone. “Members of the Bullets were once Sparrow’s golden boys. Magnum was our backup quarterback, and several of the others were stars on various teams.”

  “What happened?”

  “They got out of control. They had the ear of the town and eventually they grew to like the fact that everyone would bend over backwards to accommodate them. It’s not that they started out rough; losing Kyle changed them.”

  The pain in his voice caught my attention. “Who’s Kyle?”

  “My son.” His voice cracked and he rubbed his eyes, then took off his hat and held it in his hands. “Kyle was the quarterback for the high school team. He started the Bullets. It was a joke at first—a motorcycle gang that rode around after school and hung out. They were—are—good kids.” His voice dropped and he kept his gaze on his hat. “Then Kyle died in a motorcycle accident. They were racing a train and he jumped the tracks, but the train was too fast.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I tried to put what I knew of the Bullets with what the sheriff said. They were bullies and walked over the town as if they owned it and despised it at the same time, but in truth, the Bullets were a gang of friends embittered by the loss of their leader. I had seen how Sparrow revered football and what its students meant to the town. No wonder nobody tried to interfere.

  “I should have stopped them when they started running out of control, but by the time I tried, it was too late. Now I just hope Sparrow doesn’t pay for my negligence.”

  I could picture the sheriff reprimanding his late son’s best friends. It must have been difficult every time he saw them ride because he would also see the missing gap his son used to occupy. How could someone live with such a reminder of their loved one every day?

  At the sight of the pain in the sheriff’s eyes, I began to understand why my mother sent me away, and why I had left so readily. I couldn’t live in that apartment with signs of Zoey everywhere, and Mom couldn’t look at me without remembering her.

  I set a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder. “They’re still good kids, and there’s still hope for Sparrow. We’ll stop the drop.”

  He looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Do what you can, but be safe. I don’t want any more lives on my hands.”

  He blamed himself for his son’s death. Could he have prevented them from riding that day, or somehow stopped them from racing the train? I didn’t know, but the pain on his face echoed the cold grip around my heart. I vowed to help him avoid the grief of seeing Sparrow fall to ruin.

  “I’ll do my best, Sheriff.” I remembered the keys. “Oh, before I forget.” I pulled them out of my pocket and handed them over. “This was the price of the race at the factory. Magnum stole the keys to the principal’s car and said he’d torch it if I didn’t race him.”

  “You won?” The sheriff failed to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

  I grinned beneath the helmet. “Someone had to.”

  He tipped his hat in a very John Wayne type of gesture and walked back to his car. I started the engine, happy to be on my way. The night spread out before me as black and quiet as a canvas waiting for a breath of l
ife in color and light. I drove slowly, aware of every detail in view of my headlights. I was grateful for the ability to ride, for wide, expansive places the likes of which I had never traveled before, and for people who believed in me, even if I wasn’t sure what there was left to believe in.

  “HEY, CASS,” I SAID when I parked the four-wheeler and walked across the moonlit front lawn.

  “Hey, Cass?” she demanded. “Really? Just ‘Hey, Cass’? What do you think you’re doing, Kel?”

  I put up my hands. “All I want is to go to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  “Yeah, I believe it,” she replied hotly. “Racing around on rooftops has to wear you out.”

  I glanced around to make sure we were alone, then sat on the porch next to her. I stretched out my sore leg and glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “All right,” I said. “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  She stared at me in amazement. “Told me what—that you’re the Black Rider everyone’s going crazy about? That you take on the Bullets single-handedly and ride a motorcycle like a maniac with a death wish?” Her voice softened a bit. “That you tried to save old Joe’s store by taking them all on by yourself, or that you attacked the Bullets with paint cans to save the Beauty and the Beast set? Kelson, you’re the town hero.”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  She gave me a bland look. “You fought them in the mascot outfit. That was pretty awesome.”

  “I felt like a kung-fu teddy bear,” I said with a chuckle.

  She laughed. “You looked like one, too, if that’s any consolation.”

  I grew sober. “But things are getting dangerous. I have to be careful.”

  She nodded. “Tell me about it. I’ve never seen anyone ride a motorcycle like that. Magnum and the others couldn’t stop talking about it at Maggie’s party. Like, a hundred people recorded it on their cell phones, and everyone kept showing different footage. My heart almost stopped when I recognized your shoes.”