Small Town Superhero Box Set: Complete Series

by Cheree Alsop

  Jagger watched moodily as Magnum loaded the clip, then shoved it into the handle of the gun. He slid a lever on the top and pushed the gun into my hands.

  “You have to hold it tight. It has a safety in the grip to keep it from firing accidentally,” Magnum instructed.

  “Where did you learn about guns?” I questioned him in an effort to cover up my nervousness at shooting the weapon.

  He shrugged. “My dad got injured in ‘Nam. Now we live on his checks while he reads everything he can get his hands on about the war. He’s convinced there was another reason our soldiers were involved, but he hasn’t found it yet. I used to read his books on guns when I was younger.”

  I nodded and turned my attention back to the weapon. It felt cold it my hands. I took a breath and aimed with the butt held close to my shoulder. It felt strange.

  “I think my grip’s wrong,” I said, turning to show Magnum.

  He and Jagger dropped to the ground when the gun turned in their direction. I had never seen the old man move so quickly.

  “Watch where yer aimin’ that gun, Kelson!” Jagger barked.

  “Sorry,” I apologized, turning it quickly back toward the targets.

  “Just pull the trigger,” Magnum said, rising back to his feet.

  I took a breath and pulled. As soon as the trigger was back, the gun recoiled in my hands, spitting bullets in an arch. I ducked in surprise at the sound of bullets ricocheting off the car parts around us.

  A sound erupted behind me. I turned to find Magnum laughing from his crouched position on the ground.

  Jagger rose and tore the gun from my hands. “Givin’ a greenie an Uzi,” he grumbled, shaking his head.

  He took the cartridge out and set the gun on the car hood without looking at Magnum, who was still cracking up on the dirt.

  “You should have seen the look on your face!” he exclaimed. “That gun almost hit you with the recoil!”

  I gritted my teeth and was ready to show him true boxing when Jagger set another gun in my hands. It was the one Magnum had fired earlier.

  “This’s a Colt M1911. Et should be more yer style,” he said.

  I shook my head, but he handed me a clip anyway. I shoved it in the base of the gun like Magnum had done, then looked at the target warily. Magnum was still chuckling from where he leaned against a pile of tires. I tried to block out the sound.

  Jagger stepped closer to me and said in an undertone, “Et won’t kick like the Uzi. Jus’ squeeze slow like and keep yer eyes on the target.”

  I looked down the sights and let out a slow breath, pulling the trigger as I did so. A shot rang out and the bullet tore through the center of the headlight.

  Magnum’s laughter stopped. He rose and regarded the shattered headlight silently for a moment, then said, “That was luck.”

  I lifted the gun again and sent another bullet through the same hole.

  Magnum glanced at Jagger, but didn’t say anything.

  I squeezed the trigger three more times. The bullets hit the headlight within an inch of the first hole. When the gun was empty, I allowed a small smile to cross my face.

  “I think the joke was on me,” Magnum said, glaring in my direction. “You’ve shot before.”

  I shook my head. “This is honestly my first time.” I shrugged. “Guess I like the Colt.”

  Jagger laughed and slapped my shoulder. He set the guns back on the hood and checked the magazines. “Et’s a good thing ya found my stash.”

  I stared at him. “You mean you lost it?”

  He chuckled. “Why else ya think I’m havin’ ya organizin’ this place? Et’s not gonna get any more beautiful.”

  Magnum burst out laughing. At my look, he grinned, “And here you thought you were doing something worthwhile.”

  I blew out a breath of frustration and stalked across the junkyard. Magnum and Jagger burst out laughing again. When I reached the shack, I sat on the step and glared at the ground. Mick surprised me by settling next to my leg and resting his head on his paws. I set a hand on his head. He licked my fingers, then returned to his vigil over the junkyard despite that fact that no one wanted to steal junk. Apparently there were two of us doing something worthless.

  WHEN MADELYN JOINED ME on the bus the next morning, I couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  I took her hand. “Maddy, go on a date with me.”

  She laughed. “I’ve been on a date with you, remember?”

  I shook my head. “Not to a dance—a real date with dinner and a movie or miniature golf. Maybe some flowers.” I tried to make it sound as inviting as I could.

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t know. Mom hasn’t been feeling good, and Dad said—”

  “Your dad said you could have more freedom in the evenings because he wanted to spend time with your mom.” I gave her my most winning smile. “You need to give them that opportunity.”

  She stared out the window for a moment and I watched her emotions in her reflection. Guilt and hope warred with each other. I knew better than to press her and tried to wait patiently, but the laughter and noise in the bus increased the closer we got to school. We were running out of time before her calculus class stole her away.

  I took the ever-present book from her hand and began to flip through the pages. I made several non-committal sounds—grunts, noises of contemplation, and a few ahas, even though I didn’t read a word. I grew aware of Madelyn’s eyes on me and tried not to smile.

  “What do you think?”

  I studied the book for a few more seconds, then glanced at her, “I’ve always found,” I looked at the front of the book, then fought back a laugh, “Little Women to be an excellent study of human life in social situations.”

  She attempted to keep a straight face. “Oh, really? Who is your favorite character?”

  I thought for a minute. “That Maddy girl is always giving her boyfriend a hard time. He wants to spend time with her; she prefers her books.” I tapped the novel on my knee. “It’s difficult to see how she’s stolen his heart and every moment of his thoughts, but doesn’t care to be seen in public with him. Maybe she’s embarrassed of his awesome hair or his charming personality—”

  Madelyn grabbed the book from me. “Fine, I’ll go out with you. Just stop inflating your own ego.”

  I grinned and kissed her on the cheek, then glanced at the front of the bus to see Mr. Benson glaring at us in the mirror. I ducked my head and laughed. “He’s on to us.”

  Madelyn looked up, then waved. Mr. Benson shook his head and turned his attention back to the road.

  “It’s settled; I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said with a warm smile. She propped her knees on the chair in front of us, then opened her book with one hand. She ran her fingers slowly up and down my arm while she read. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, enjoying the tingles that ran along my skin at her touch.

  I SWUNG BY THE sheriff’s office after school. He looked up from the desk in surprise. “Hello, Kelson. What can I do for you?”

  I glanced around to make sure we were alone before I slid into one of the chairs across from his desk. “How’s everything going?”

  A slight smile lifted his mustache. “Well, since the Bullets are under control for the moment, there’s not much happening that you could help with.”

  I propped one knee on the other. “You’re enjoying a bit of relaxation, aren’t you?”

  He tipped back in his chair as well and nodded. “I could get used to it. How long do you think it will last?”

  The comment bothered me. “What do you mean?”

  The sheriff sat up and put his elbows on the desk. “One member of the Bullets is occupied. How long do you think the others will sit idle waiting for him?”

  I sat up and rubbed the back of my neck. “Not long, I guess.”

  He nodded. “Just keep that in mind. If Magnum can continue keeping them under control, gre
at. If not, be prepared for someone else to take charge of the Bullets.”

  I leaned my elbows on my knees, but the position was uncomfortable with my bruised ribs, so I sat up again and found the sheriff watching me closely. “You could take a break, you know,” he said.

  The understanding in his tone made me angry for reasons I couldn’t explain. I met his gaze. “I’m fine. What can we do to help?”

  He studied me for a minute before letting out a quiet breath. “The gas stations along the interstate keep getting hit by the same three guys. They’re gone by the time we show up, and they take the video surveillance tapes with them. You could drive by if you get time and check it out.”

  I stood and held out a hand. Sheriff Bowley shook it with a slight smile. “Take care of yourself, Black Rider.”

  “You too, Sheriff.”

  “TAKE MY CAR,” MOM insisted.

  I eyed the beat-up green Volkswagen doubtfully. “I’m not sure it’s much of a date car,” I replied.

  Mom gestured to the four-wheeler. “Were you planning on taking that?”

  I looked from the four-wheeler to Mom’s car, then to Uncle Rick’s beat-up ton truck. He had offered it with a smirk before leaving in the nice Ram with my cousins Jaren and Cole to take care of a broken fence.

  I gave in. “All right.”

  She smiled and handed me the keys, complete with a fuzzy pink rabbit’s foot and a sparkly star that said “Shine”. I unhooked the key and handed the rest back to Mom. She rolled her eyes. “Not manly enough for you?”

  “Not by a long shot,” I replied dryly.

  She laughed and gave me a hug. “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  I chuckled as I opened the car door. It gave a squeak of protest. “So I can eliminate sky diving and haunted houses. Anything else?”

  “Spiders,” she said. “Anything to do with spiders.”

  “Oh, right.”

  Mom pulled something from her pocket and set it in my hand. I smiled at the twenty-dollar bill. “I can pay for the date myself.”

  She shook her head. “Lauren told me Jagger doesn’t pay you. I insist.”

  On impulse, I gave her a hug. She laughed and patted my back. “You’d better get going. Don’t want to be late for your date!”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I said. She crossed to the porch to wave me off. Aunt Lauren walked out and stood beside her. Now that I knew she was expecting, her small belly was obvious beneath her plaid shirt. She set a hand on it and leaned contentedly against one of the supports. Mom said something to her and they both laughed.

  I grinned as I started the car. It was great to see Mom laugh again.

  WHEN I PULLED UP to the house, my stomach twisted uneasily. It wasn’t that I was nervous to pick up Madelyn—I was nervous to face her father. When Madelyn insisted they go to the hospital with the Ashbys after the fair, he found out I was the Black Rider. Since then, he had regarded me with respect, but also with the kind of wariness expected from a father who knew his daughter was dating a reckless boy.

  It didn’t matter that I saved the entire town. What mattered was if he could trust me the few times he knew we were together. I acted attentive and caring in their presence and tried to tone down my death-wish mentality when Madelyn and I were alone so I didn’t give him further reason to worry.

  Buck barked from his kennel as I crossed the sidewalk; it was only the second time I had ever really walked on it. I straightened my only button-up shirt and knocked on the door. I tried to smooth a particularly stubborn cowlick in my hair, then realized I was fidgeting and shoved my hands into my pockets.

  The door opened slowly a minute later. “Yes?” Mr. West demanded. He saw who it was and waited for a moment before he opened the door entirely. “Come in,” he said grudgingly as he made his way back to the couch.

  “Hi, Kelson!” Mrs. West said from her place in the wheelchair on the far side of the couch.

  Madelyn had inherited Mrs. West’s long brown hair and fair skin. Mrs. West looked a bit paler than usual and her smile looked weary. Much to Mr. West’s chagrin, I crossed the living room and took her hand, kneeling so we could speak to each other easier.

  “It’s wonderful to see you again, Mrs. West. You are looking lovely, as usual.”

  “Oh, stop,” she said with a shadow of Madelyn’s brilliant smile. “Save it for your date.”

  “A date?” Mr. West grumbled.

  “Yes, dear,” his wife replied patiently. “Madelyn told us about it when she got home and you said it was all right.”

  “That was before I knew who she was going with,” he replied. He changed the channel on the television, but didn’t turn the volume up past a slight hum.

  “Don’t listen to him, dear,” Mrs. West said quietly, though we both knew her husband could hear. “He’d be grouchy no matter who she went with.”

  “I’d pick any of the other boys who come to the door,” he said.

  At my curious look, Mrs. West laughed, then tipped her head back wearily against the electronic wheelchair. “You’re the only one. Don’t let him give you a hard time.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked gently.

  She nodded and gave me another warm smile. “Have fun and take care of yourself. You’re a good kid, Kelson.”

  I gave a slight frown for show. “That’s what everyone keeps trying to tell me. I think they’re hoping that if they say it enough, it’ll come true.”

  Mr. West gave a snort, his attention still on his show.

  “Is Kelson here?”

  My breath caught at Madelyn’s voice. Her eyes lit up when they met mine, and my heart skipped a beat. I rose to my feet. Everyone watched her hurry down the stairs. She had a sneaker in one hand and a pair of earrings in the other. Her footsteps made a thump-pat sound on the steps.

  “Sorry, Kelson,” she said, pausing at the bottom of the stairs to lean on the banister and pull on the other sneaker. “I tried to hurry, but the curling iron wouldn’t work and my hair is always so flat. I wanted to do something special, but it just didn’t work out and I—” She paused and gave an embarrassed smile. “I’m babbling, sorry.”

  “It’s a good thing,” Mr. West said. “Boys don’t like girls who babble.”

  “Oh, honey,” Mrs. West chided.

  I crossed to Madelyn’s side and caught her arm before she could trip and hurt herself. She gave me a grateful smile and pulled her shoe on all the way, then stomped on it to make sure it was secure. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Maddy,” I told her.

  She wore a red shirt that fit her curves and her hair was down instead of swept back in her usual ponytail. She had traded her glasses for contacts even though I knew they bugged her, and the slightest hint of makeup highlighted her hazel eyes and reddened her lips. I couldn’t believe I had the chance to spend the evening with such a beautiful girl.

  “Maddy?” Mr. West repeated.

  I grimaced at the annoyance in his tone, then turned to him with a smile. “It’s a nickname my cousin started. Madelyn doesn’t mind.”

  “I love it,” she replied with a spark of defiance.

  Mr. West watched us both for a minute, then turned back to the television as if we were a minor disturbance in his cinematic evening.

  “Have a wonderful time,” Mrs. West called.

  “Thank you, Mom. We will,” Madelyn replied. She hurried across the room and gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek, then met me at the door. I opened it for her and was grateful when I was able to shut it and leave Mr. West’s palpable glare behind us.

  “He really doesn’t like me,” I said.

  She shook her head. “The Black Rider stealing away his little girl? No father would like you,” she replied with a laugh.

  I opened her door. It gave a loud screech and she stood back to look at the car. “Where did this come from?”

  “It’s my mom’s,” I explained, trying to ignore the rust that ate at the paint under my hand. “She thought it would be cl
assier than a farm truck.”

  Madelyn gave me a doubtful look.

  I laughed. “That’s the look I gave her, but it’s better than the four-wheeler, and Uncle Rick took the blue Ram. We’d be left with the old white ton that’s still loaded and tarped so the hay doesn’t get ruined by rain.”

  She smiled up at me, her eyes so entrancing I could barely keep my mind on the date at hand. When she looked at me like that, everything vanished but the warmth that flooded through me at her expression. My heart slowed, my breathing stopped, and I felt bare and exposed. She made me more vulnerable than I had allowed myself to be in a year. “What?” I asked past the knot that tightened in my throat.

  “You’re starting to sound like a farmer,” she teased, her eyelashes fluttering.

  I pushed a strand of hair back from her face and couldn’t help letting my fingers linger on her cheek. “If it makes you smile like that, I’ll be a farmer for the rest of my life.”

  Her smile deepened. “I don’t know if Sparrow could handle it.”

  I laughed and held her door open further. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then slipped inside. I looked up to find Mr. West watching us from the window with a very disapproving expression on his face. I ducked my head and hurried around to the other side of the car, worried he would appear at any moment and shoot me for getting fresh with his daughter, even though she had been the one to kiss me.

  I made a mental note to kiss Madelyn good night before I brought her home.

  I sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine. The fan belt whined for a few seconds before it settled into an uneven mutter. I threw Madelyn an apologetic smile before pulling onto the road. “I know this car is going to guarantee another date.”

  She smiled and slipped her hand through my arm, leaning over to rest her head on my shoulder. “I’m enjoying it.”

  She turned on the radio and I listened to her sing softly to several country songs.

  “You have a great voice,” I said.

  She gave me a wry smile. “Did you expect something horrible?”

  I nodded. “I pictured a mixture of alley cats and Aunt Lauren’s rooster.”