Secret Superhero

by Justin D'Ath

  That was when a door opened on the far side of the room, the dance music became very loud, and in walked Darth Vader.

  ‘Look out, Mr Girton!’ shrieked Birdy.

  Mr Girton’s peripheral vision was restricted by the big Darth Vader helmet, so he didn’t see the panther spring. All he saw was a red-haired clown come flying across the room with his arms outstretched, bringing with him a billowing curtain of hockey net.

  ‘Zac, wha . . .?’ he started to say.

  Then he was knocked back through the doorway into the gym.

  And the screaming began.

  It wasn’t just Birdy screaming now. Several hundred other girls (and a lot of boys, too) had joined in. It was deafening – it drowned out the music – but Colt wasn’t even aware of it. He couldn’t hear anything but the hammering of his own heartbeat.

  He was fighting for his life.

  Colt’s superpower made him stronger than Puss, but the panther’s reflexes were lightning fast – as fast as Superclown’s – and its razor-sharp claws and snapping teeth were lethal. Already one of Colt’s polka-dotted sleeves was in tatters, and there was a burning sting all the way down his right leg where the panther had raked him with one of its slashing rear paws.

  It was like fighting a barbed-wire tornado.

  Colt couldn’t let go. He had succeeded in getting the net over Puss, but in doing so he’d become entangled, too. Clown and panther were bound together in a twisted corkscrew of thick, black netting that rolled slowly out onto the crowded dance floor. All around them, students in fancy dress pushed backwards against those behind them in an effort to get clear. An open space quickly formed around the struggling pair. The space grew like a ripple in a pond until Colt and Puss were alone in the middle of the gymnasium.

  They weren’t alone for long. A tiny clown with green hair and crying eyes had followed them out of the storeroom. Careful not to step in the smears of blood they left behind, she came as close to the tangle of black fur, red-and-white clown suit and twisted cord as she dared.

  ‘Colt, what will I do?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said, breathing heavily inside the shroud of netting that bound him to the quivering panther. ‘I think I’ve got it under control now.’

  Puss had stopped struggling and lay still. The net was wrapped around both of them in several layers. Puss was in the middle and Colt was two or three layers further out. He had worked his way behind the panther and grasped it by the scruff of its neck, preventing it from turning its head to bite him.

  ‘Try to unwrap my legs,’ he said. ‘Be careful of its claws.’

  ‘You’re hurt!’ Birdy whimpered.

  ‘It’s just a scratch. See if you can get my legs free.’

  If Birdy could free his legs, it might be possible for Colt to stand up and carry Puss back to the circus. He wasn’t sure what he would do then.

  Birdy started unravelling the trailing end of the net. She got as far as Colt’s shins, but then the knots were too tight.

  ‘I can’t do it.’

  ‘See if anyone’s got a knife or something.’

  Birdy rose to her feet. The music had stopped and so had the screaming. Mr Girton and Ms Winzer stood five or six paces away. Mr Girton had removed his Darth Vader helmet and was speaking urgently into his wrist-phone. Ms Winzer no longer wore her queen’s crown. They both looked white-faced and scared.

  ‘I need something to cut the net,’ Birdy said.

  Ms Winzer held out her hand. ‘Come to me, love. Help’s on the way.’

  ‘I don’t need help – I just need a knife.’

  ‘Come along, love. People are coming to save Zac.’

  Zac? thought Birdy. Ms Winzer had her clowns mixed up. But Birdy wasn’t going to correct her. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

  In the background, the teacher in the Viking outfit and a woman dressed as one of the Gaga Daughters were ushering the students out of the gym through the wide-open doors.

  As the students filed outside, a girl Jedi turned back and used her wrist-phone to record an eight-second holovid that was going to make Zac Watson famous.

  The Special Forces commandos arrived first. They were followed by two squads of regular soldiers and 16 Riot Police. All Colt could see from his trussed-up position on the gymnasium floor were running legs and swinging gun barrels as they formed a big circle around him and Puss and Birdy. He had never felt so helpless.

  ‘Move away from the puma, kids,’ said a familiar voice. It was the army major who’d called Colt ‘Bozo’ and threatened to kick his behind.

  ‘It’s a panther,’ Colt corrected him. ‘And how can I move anyway?’

  ‘Your little buddy there can,’ Major Bozo said, waving Birdy aside.

  She didn’t budge. ‘I’m not leaving Zac.’

  ‘Zac?’ Colt whispered.

  ‘Shhh! They think you’re Zac,’ she whispered back.

  Major Bozo edged forward and reached out to grab Birdy’s arm. She darted around behind Colt and Puss.

  ‘If you touch me, I’ll scream.’

  ‘Do what the soldier tells you, love,’ Ms Winzer said in the background.

  Birdy took no notice. She pointed at a big sheath knife on one of the commandos’ belts. ‘Give me that so I can cut Zac free.’

  ‘I can’t allow that,’ said Major Bozo. ‘We don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

  ‘Zac is hurt!’ Birdy cried.

  Ms Winzer pushed through the circle of legs and guns that surrounded Colt. She stopped next to the major. ‘You’re a very brave boy, Zac. Don’t worry, there’s an ambulance coming.’

  Colt shook his head (it was one of the few things he could move). ‘I don’t need an ambulance. It’s just a couple of scratches.’

  His leg did seem okay, despite the sticky feeling of blood, but – uh-oh! – his eyelids were growing heavy and the hand gripping Puss’s neck was losing its strength. Where was the real Zac with the pizzas?

  ‘Just let her cut my legs free so I can walk,’ he said.

  ‘I can’t allow that,’ Major Bozo said firmly. ‘The puma might get loose.’

  ‘Panther,’ said Colt.

  ‘Bozo!’ Birdy muttered, just loud enough for Colt to hear. She must have been reading his mind.

  The major turned to the circle of men surrounding them. His eyes sought out Boss Cop. ‘How long till the circus people arrive?’ he asked.

  Boss Cop had been speaking into his police radio. ‘They should be here any moment.’

  Colt locked eyes with Birdy. If anyone came from the circus, he and Birdy might be recognised. Then everyone would find out that he was Superclown. He would never be able to live a normal life again.

  Birdy winked. ‘Hang in there, Zac Watson.’

  Colt found it confusing. Why was Birdy pretending he was Zac? He was becoming so tired and sleepy it was hard to think clearly. Hard to keep his eyes open. And hard to hold onto Puss. His weakening muscles shook with effort, the lids dragged down over his eyeballs; but somewhere deep in Colt’s brain a small, insistent voice told him he must hold on. If the panther got free, it would kill him. And then the soldiers would kill it.

  Game over.

  ‘Hold still, Zac.’

  Colt wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Or whether he’d been awake or asleep. His eyes had been closed. Now his mother was standing over him, aiming a tranquiliser gun. Behind her stood three other people from the circus – Captain Noah, Mr Busby and Birdy, in her clownsuit.

  ‘Mu–’ Colt started to say, but Birdy talked over the top of him.

  ‘Zac, these people are from the circus,’ she said in a loud, fake voice. Why was she using that silly accent? ‘They’re going to put the panther to sleep, then we’ll untie you.’

  Colt just nodded. It was all too much to get his head around. But it was nice to see his mother, even if she was pointing a gun at him.

  There was a loud pop, and something black and furry started wriggling in Colt’s arms. He knew he wasn’
t supposed to let go, so he held on to the furry thing with the last of his waning strength.

  Finally the furry thing stopped struggling and Colt could relax. For a few moments he watched as Mr Busby used a big knife borrowed from one of the soldiers to cut away a tangle of strings that were wrapped around him like the web of a giant tree spider.

  Then he let his eyelids fall closed again.

  Birdy thought she and Colt would be sprung for sure. She had been watching his mum closely while Mr Busby freed Superclown from the net. There was a puzzled look in Kristin’s eyes as she studied the semi-conscious boy in the net – a look that said Don’t I know you from somewhere? Not even a clown’s makeup could fool a mother for long.

  It was Puss who saved the day. In Mr Busby’s hurry to free the boy everyone thought was Zac Watson, he cut the net away too quickly. The powerful drug from the tranquiliser dart hadn’t knocked the panther fully unconscious yet. As soon as its bindings came loose, Puss let out a deep-throated growl and struggled upright.

  Everyone leapt back except the red-haired clown, who was right underneath it. Major Bozo pulled out his pistol. Sixty-six other soldiers, commandos and police officers raised their firearms, too.

  ‘Don’t anyone dare shoot!’ Kristin said – not loudly, but in a voice that could be heard throughout the building. A voice that caused Colt to twitch in his sleep.

  His mother had seen what nobody else had – that Puss wasn’t trying to hurt the helpless figure lying motionless beneath it. It was trying to escape.

  Like a Lost World kitten taking its first uncertain steps, the groggy panther wobbled slowly away from Colt across the wide gymnasium floor. Every few paces, it turned its head and looked back, as if it was worried the red-haired clown might be following it. As if it was scared of him.

  As if a sleeping boy in a clown costume was more dangerous than 67 men with guns!

  Colt’s mother kept pace with Puss on one side, quickly reloading the tranquiliser gun as she walked. Captain Noah walked on the other side. Mr Busby followed, carrying a rope and a big animal-stretcher. Behind him, fanned out in a large semi-circle, came the 67 armed men. And behind them came Mr Girton and Ms Winzer. Everyone kept their distance – they weren’t taking any chances – but Puss acted as if they weren’t there. It was only interested in one thing – getting away from the super-strong clown that had overpowered it.

  ‘Aren’t you going to dart it again?’ asked Major Bozo.

  ‘Only if it gets as far as the door,’ Kristin said. ‘Another dose might put its heart at risk.’

  Luckily Colt’s mother didn’t have to use another dart. Puss got to within five metres of the nearest exit, took one last look over its shoulder, then let out another rumbling growl and collapsed.

  If anyone else had looked back, they would have seen why the panther had growled a second time. The red-haired clown was no longer lying on the floor. Two other clowns – one with green hair, the other with orange – were helping it slowly towards a little door over by the girls toilets on the other side of the gymnasium.

  The real Zac Watson was in big trouble.

  Five minutes earlier, as he sneaked back to the gym with a pile of stolen pizzas, he’d made a mental list of all the school rules (and actual laws) he’d broken tonight, as well as their likely consequences:

  1. Fighting (with a girl!) – one day suspension.

  2. Disobeying Ms W’s school lockdown order – three days suspension.

  3. Disobeying Mrs B and Mr Q the first time they told him not to leave the dining hall – one day suspension.

  4. Escaping from police custody while being driven home – when his parents found out, they’d suspend his HoloZone connection for at least six months.

  5. Running away from Boss Cop – make that a year without HoloZone.

  6. Breaking INTO the school grounds during a lockdown – three days suspension.

  7. Stealing four pizzas and running away from Mrs B and Mr Q for the second time – two days for stealing, one day for running away.

  Maths wasn’t one of Zac’s better subjects, and it was difficult making calculations while running with pizzas, but all up it added up to some serious consequences – not only at school, but at home as well. And perhaps even down at the police station. Was stealing pizzas from your own school a crime?

  Maybe I should run away and join the circus, Zac thought. SC and the little girl clown were pretty cool.

  Zac hoped they were still alive as he balanced the pizza trays on one arm and cautiously cracked open the storeroom door. He’d heard all the screaming a few minutes ago, and seen all the soldiers and police come hoofing it from all directions, so he knew something had happened while he was away getting pizzas. If SC really was a superhero (he was certainly the fastest runner Zac had ever seen) he could probably sort out that panther.

  He wouldn’t have sent me to get food if he’d been seriously worried, Zac thought.

  There was nobody in the storeroom. Zac slipped inside and closed the door behind him. The door on the other side was partway open. Placing the pizzas on a vaulting horse, Zac crept across and peered out into the gym.

  What he saw made very little sense. The soldiers and police were all there, along with Ms W, Mr G and a couple of adults in normal clothes, but all the kids had gone. The only ones he could see were SC and – what-did-she-call-herself? – Clowngirl. She was kneeling next to SC, who lay surrounded by bits of net and smears of blood, his outfit shredded and blood-stained. He looked dead!

  But apart from Clowngirl, nobody seemed to care. All the adults had their backs turned. They had formed a big semi-circle and were walking slowly in the other direction.

  Clowngirl looked up and noticed Zac.

  ‘Quickly!’ she hissed. ‘Give me a hand!’

  They sat Colt on the tumbling mats and Birdy quickly closed the door. Colt slumped forward, his limbs slack, his eyes only half open. He looked like a zombie.

  ‘Did you get the pizzas?’ Birdy whispered.

  Zac went to get them. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘He just needs food.’

  Birdy broke a wedge from the top pizza and stuffed it into Colt’s mouth. His eyes became fully open and he made a gagging sound.

  ‘You’ll choke him,’ Zac warned.

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Birdy. She stuffed more in and Colt’s jaws began to work. ‘Break off another bit.’

  Three and a half pizzas later, Colt was strong enough to talk. ‘Thanks, Zac. I needed that.’

  ‘Are you okay, SC?’

  Colt burped. ‘I am now.’

  ‘You don’t look it,’ Zac said. ‘There’s blood all over you and your clothes are totally wasted. What happened to the panther?’

  ‘What did happen to it?’ Colt asked Birdy.

  ‘Your mum took care of it. Don’t you remember?’

  Colt nodded vaguely. He was still weak and fuzzy-brained. ‘She thought I was Zac for some reason.’

  ‘Everyone did,’ Birdy said. ‘It’s because you guys swapped wigs.’

  ‘Did we?’ Colt and Zac said, both at the same time.

  Each looked up at his frizzy clown’s wig – one was bright orange, the other bright red – then at each other’s.

  Birdy put her ear to the door. She could hear voices out in the gymnasium, calling Zac’s name. ‘You must have switched after Zac fell on top of you behind that hedge and your wigs came off,’ she whispered. ‘And it’s given me an idea.’

  A few minutes later, Zac slipped back out into the gym. He was wearing Colt’s shredded, blood-stained clothes and was faking a limp. Everyone had gone except the principal, Mr Girton and a dark-haired woman Zac had never seen before. She was holding a strange-looking gun and what looked like a doctor’s bag.

  ‘Ah, there he is!’ Mr Girton cried. He came striding towards Zac, removed one of his big Darth Vader gloves and shook the red-haired clown’s hand. ‘You had us worried! Thank heavens you’re all right. I want to thank you, young man, for s
aving our lives. If that animal had got loose in here with everyone on the dance floor, who knows what might have happened!’

  ‘It was nothing, Mr G,’ Zac said modestly.

  ‘What happened to your little friend?’ asked Mr G, looking right and left.

  ‘She went home.’

  Ms Winzer and the dark-haired woman approached. ‘Zac, this is Mrs Lawless,’ the principal said. ‘She’s actually a vet, but do you mind if she looks at your leg while we wait for the ambulance to arrive?’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Zac smiled at the vet, who was giving him a puzzled, don’t-I-know-you? look. ‘I’m okay, Mrs Lawless,’ he said. ‘I just got some tomato sauce on me.’

  ‘Tomato sauce?’ said the principal.

  Zac attempted a sad expression – difficult for a clown with a huge painted-on smile. ‘I’ve got a confession, Ms W. In between catching the rhino and fighting the panther, I sneaked a bit of food from the dining hall.’

  The principal looked serious for a moment, then she almost matched Zac’s smile. ‘Well, I suppose, under the circumstances,’ she said slowly, ‘nobody could begrudge a hero his supper.’

  ‘Superhero,’ Zac corrected her.

  It was the following morning. Colt and his mother were sitting in Captain Noah’s motorhome. Birdy and her parents were there, too. So was Mr Busby. All the adults were looking at Colt in a way that made him feel like he’d done something wrong. Even though he was innocent.

  ‘No way it was me!’ he cried. ‘Why would I let all those animals go?’

  ‘You let Caruso go,’ Captain Noah reminded him.

  ‘That was different. Caruso was really unhappy. And the rat cops would have killed him if I hadn’t got him out.’

  Mr Busby leaned forward. ‘I saw you, Colt. I was there when you chased Assam out of The Menagerie.’