by Lucas Flint
I immediately began feeling along the ground for my glasses until I felt their frame. Just as I wrapped my fingers around the frame of my glasses, a foot came out of nowhere and stomped down on my hand, making me cry out in pain and look up.
Although my vision was still blurry, I could tell that the man standing above me was not a friend. He was large and ugly, with some kind of weird blue tattoo across his face, although my lack of glasses made it hard to tell what his tattoo really looked like. He smelled like cigarettes and alcohol, which meant that he was either a homeless person or some kind of criminal. He was most definitely not a friendly neighborhood superhero, at any rate.
“Drop your glasses, kid?” said the man in a mocking voice. “So sorry about that. I’ve got a little brother who used to lose his glasses all the time, so I get where you’re coming from. Of course, he always lost them because I always stole them, but that’s not important. What is important is you giving us your money.”
I was about to ask him who ‘us’ was until I heard movement behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw two more criminals—who were a lot blurrier than the one standing before me—emerging from an alleyway. I couldn’t make out many details about them, but I thought one them held a gun in his hand and the other a knife.
I looked up at the man standing in front of me again. “Hey, dude, you don’t want to mess with me. I don’t have any money. I’m just a poor teenager. The most valuable thing I own is my bike.”
“I don’t care,” said the criminal. “You look like you come from a well off family, which means you probably have more money than us. Hand over your wallet or me and my friends will make sure you never get back to your well off family ever again.”
Damn it. Ordinarily, I would be willing to just shoot him with my lasers, but without my glasses, my aim would probably be off. Not to mention there was the small matter of revealing my identity if I tried anything like that. No one else in Golden City could shoot lasers from their eyes like me. If I shot them, they would instantly know who I am, which would make me lose my sidekick license. The thought of losing my license nearly froze me cold, but on the other hand, I couldn’t just sit here and let them beat me up, either.
“Like I said, I don’t have any money,” I said as calmly as I could. “My family is not particularly rich. You’re wasting your time trying to rob me.”
“Nah, I don’t believe that,” said the criminal, shaking his head. “I think you do come from a family with money, but you make a good point that you probably don’t have any money yourself. Probably just a debit card in your wallet and some spare change.”
Internally, I sighed in relief, while aloud I said, “Then you’ll let me go, right? Now that we’ve established that I’m not worth mugging, you will take your boot off my hand and let me put my glasses back on, right?”
Suddenly, the pressure on my hand increased, making me grunt in pain. Behind me, I heard his two accomplices chuckling, but I didn’t understand what was so funny about this situation. Maybe if I was one of the kidnappers, I would find this amusing, but I wasn’t and so I didn’t.
“Just because we’re not going to rob you doesn’t mean we’re just going to let you leave,” said the criminal. “Maybe you don’t have money yourself, but I’m still convinced that your parents do. And what good parents wouldn’t give everything they have to get back their son?”
My heart seemed to have stopped beating. “Are you going to kidnap me?”
“Hold you hostage, more like it,” said the criminal with a chuckle. “We’ll take you someplace no one, not even Rubberman, will be able to find you and demand that your parents pay us if they want to see you alive again. Parents are always willing to sacrifice everything for their children. It’s beautiful, in a way, but also makes them easily exploitable.”
This was almost worse than being mugged. No way was I going to be their hostage.
I tried to shove his leg off my hand, but the criminal slapped me with the back of his very thick hand, which, on top of my existing injuries from my fight with Takeshi earlier, was enough to knock me down. He did take his foot off my hand, but I was too weak to get up and run or fight.
“You’ve got spunk, kid,” said the criminal. He seemed to be smirking, though my blurry vision made it impossible to know for sure. “But spunk isn’t enough to survive in this world.” He looked up at his accomplices. “You two, stop standing around looking like idiots and drag off this kid. Tie him up with the rope. We don’t want to take any chances with this one.”
“Sure thing, boss,” said one of his accomplices, who had a strangely high voice. “Got the rope right here.”
The end of a rope fell to the ground right in front of my face. Above, I could hear the high-pitched criminal rapidly uncoiling the rope, which meant I didn’t have much time before they tied me up and hauled me off. I was still in too much pain to fight back, which meant I would have to use my eye beams. Yes, that would mean risking the reveal of my identity to three criminals, but I’d rather lose my job than spend even one hour as these guys’ prisoner.
Energy began to build up in my eyes. The way I saw it, if I could get just one blast off, one good blast that might confuse them, it might give me enough time to grab my bike and escape. I couldn’t see my bike, of course, nor did I know how close it was to me, but it was my only chance at getting out of here alive.
Before I could unleash my lasers, something whistled through the air and struck the high-pitched criminal who had been uncoiling the rope. The criminal cursed in pain and dropped the rope entirely, staggering backwards into a nearby trash can, which tripped him up and caused him to fall flat on his bottom.
“What the hell?” said the first criminal, who seemed to be looking around now. “What was that?”
“I think it was a boomerang, boss,” said the other criminal, whose voice was much deeper than his friend’s. “But it was so fast that I didn’t see where it came from or where it went.”
“A boomerang?” the first criminal repeated. “This isn’t Australia, you idiot. Your eyes must be as bad as this kid’s. It must be something—”
All of a sudden, I heard another hurtling object, followed by a loud thwack and the first criminal crying out in pain. Through my blurry vision, I saw the first criminal grab the back of his head. He might have been bleeding, but it was hard to tell.
“It was a boomerang!” said the third criminal in a satisfied voice. “I saw it this time. Just like the old cartoons.”
“Shut up, you idiot,” the first criminal growled. “Look for the Aussie throwing it and kill him in cold blood.”
“Yes, sir,” said the third criminal.
But neither criminal had a chance to do anything else, because at that moment, someone jumped down from a nearby rooftop. The person—whose features were too blurry for me to make out—landed between the two criminals and, moving as fast as lightning, punched them both in the gut. When his punches connected, electricity crackled and both criminals cried out in pain as they got electrocuted by his blows. The two criminals collapsed to the ground around me, both twitching, but even with my blurry vision, I could tell that they were not going to get up again anytime soon.
My heart beating fast, I looked up at my savior, trying to see who it was. The best that I could make out was that he wore a full-body suit of black and red; he seemed to be a superhero of some sort, but I had no idea who he was. He definitely wasn’t Rubberman or Barriers, but there was something familiar about him anyway, like I’d see him before.
“Th-Thanks,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “Who are you?”
The superhero opened his mouth to say something, but the click of a gun made him pause. I looked over my shoulder and saw the high-pitched voice criminal—the one who had fallen into the trash can—standing behind me. Even with my bad eyes, I could tell that he was pointing a gun at my head, probably with his finger on the trigger.
“I don’t know who you are, but if you take one more
step forward, I’ll put a bullet in this kid’s brain,” said the high-pitched criminal, who sounded quite terrified, perhaps because both of his friends had been taken down in one hit each by this mysterious superhero. “I mean it. I’m not playing around here. If you value the kid’s life, you’ll leave and never come back. Got it?”
The superhero said nothing, nor did he move. I wished I still had my glasses, because then at least I would be able to see his expression. As it was, I feared that the superhero would indeed leave me to be taken hostage by these criminals, because there was no way he could reach the criminal before I was shot.
“Strong, silent type, eh?” said the high-pitched criminal. “Or just indecisive?”
All of a sudden, the superhero shrugged. It was a familiar gesture, one I was sure I’d seen somewhere before, but where, I didn’t know.
Not that it mattered, because in that instant, the sound of a hurtling object—the boomerang—came out of nowhere and struck the criminal’s gun hand. The high-pitched criminal let out a shriek of pain and dropped his gun. At the same time, the superhero launched himself toward the criminal with surprising speed and agility, flying through the air as easily as a boomerang. His fists crackled with electricity and, with a yell, he punched the criminal in the face.
As the superhero’s fist connected with the criminal’s face, the criminal flew backwards and crashed into more trashcans. He did not get up again, although like the other two, he did twitch every now and then.
I suddenly realized that I’d stopped breathing. I gasped for breath and then immediately began feeling along the street for my glasses. Thankfully, they were still where I’d felt them before and I put them back on my face, although the lenses were slightly scratched from the fight. But I could still see through them well enough, so I looked up at the superhero and said, “Thanks! I thought I was a—”
I stopped speaking, because when the superhero turned around to face me, I suddenly recognized him.
Or, I should say, when the sidekick turned around to face me, because standing before me, wearing his old sidekick costume, was Lightning Fist, better known as my older brother, James Fry.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Even though James hadn’t worn his costume in years, there was no mistaking it for the costume of anyone else. It was black and red and covered his whole body, similar to Rubberman’s, except he wore a hood and domino mask instead of a full facial mask. On his hands were two metal gauntlets which hummed with electricity, the titular Lightning Fists, which was how James had gotten his sidekick name from in the first place. I used to think it was such a cool costume, and I still did, but at the moment, I was more confused than anything.
“James?” I said as I sat up with some effort. “What are you doing here? And why are you wearing your old sidekick costume?”
“Because I figured you’d be in trouble,” said James. He gestured at the unconscious criminals. “Looks like my older brother instincts were right again.”
“But …” I still had trouble believing my eyes. “But you aren’t a sidekick anymore. And didn’t you think your costume was stupid or something? What’s going on here?”
James’ smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression. “You and me need to talk. There’s been some developments recently and I need to talk with you about them, though somewhere with more privacy, obviously.”
“Developments?” I repeated. “What developments?”
“Something about your safety,” said James. “But that’s all I’m saying right now. I’ll give you a ride back to the house; my truck is close by, so we can take that. You can toss your bike into the back.”
I was about to ask James what he meant when the sound of a hurtling boomerang entered my ears. All of a sudden, James raised his right arm and caught a boomerang that came out of nowhere. He attached it to a notch on his belt, which let me see that the boomerang appeared to be made out of metal and had a few blinking lights on it.
“What’s that?” I said. “I don’t remember that being part of your costume.”
“Homing boomerang,” said James. He raised his gauntlets. “I can control its trajectory via my gauntlets. The reason you don’t recognize it is probably because I didn’t use it very often when I was a sidekick, mostly because my gauntlets were usually more than enough to deal with any criminals I fought. But that doesn’t matter. We need to leave now. I’ll explain the situation on the way home.”
James hauled me to my feet. I nearly stumbled, but I managed to retain my balance and follow him out of the alleyway. When I told James that I was in too much pain to lift my bike, he picked it up himself with no problem and, balancing it on his shoulders, led me out of the alleyway to a back street where his red pickup stood idly by. He tossed my bike into the truck’s bed before climbing into the cab and turning on the engine. Once I was inside and wearing my seat belt, James pressed down on the ignition and we were soon driving down the nearly empty streets of Golden City, probably driving faster than the speed limit, but I didn’t care because I kept looking at James’ costume in confusion.
“So, are you going to explain why you’re wearing your costume again?” I said as we turned a corner. “Did you decide that you liked it after all?”
James snorted. “Of course not. It’s even more childish than I remembered, honestly. I can’t believe I thought this looked cool at some point.”
I didn’t say anything to that, mostly because I actually did think it was cool, not ‘childish.’ In fact, before I became Beams, I used to dream about getting a costume like that when I became a sidekick. “But red and black are such cool colors.”
“Whatever,” said James. “The only reason I’m wearing this old thing is due to necessity. Trust me, if I could, I would have just left this thing to rot in the back of Mom and Dad’s closet for eternity.”
“Okay, but you still haven’t explained why you’re wearing it again,” I said. “Or how you knew I was going to be in trouble. You mentioned something about ‘developments’ earlier, but didn’t specify what you meant other than it was about my safety.”
James sighed. “I guess I’ll just get to the point: I think someone is trying to take you out.”
“Take me out?” I repeated. “As in, kill me?”
“Or have you kidnapped, like you nearly were back there,” said James. “But regardless, someone definitely wants you out of the picture. That much I know.”
“But how do you know this?” I said. “Who told you?”
“No one, but I’ve got great instincts, like I said before,” said James, waving off my question like it was irrelevant. “Plus, something happened at the house about an hour ago which convinced me that you were in trouble. The kind of trouble which requires me to put on this old thing and make myself look like an idiot.”
“What happened, exactly?” I asked. “Tell me everything.”
“All right,” said James. “I’ll start from the beginning. About an hour ago, I was chilling at the house by myself. Mom is out shopping, while Dad is still at work, so I had the house all to myself when someone knocked at the door. I thought it was the delivery man with a package I’d ordered online, so I got up and went to answer the door, but when I answered it, the man standing at the door definitely didn’t work for UPS or FedEx.”
“Who was he?” I asked. “Did he tell you his name?”
James shook his head. “No. He was a tall, Japanese-looking guy. What was weird, though, was his eyes, which were the bluest eyes I’d ever seen. That’s what made me doubt he was Japanese, actually, because I’m pretty sure that the Japanese don’t have blue eyes as a general rule.”
I gulped, because I knew who he was talking about now. “What did the man do, exactly?”
“Asked if you were home,” said James. “He said it in a really weird way, though, almost like it was a threat.”
“You didn’t tell him where I was, did you?”
“Nope. I sensed right off the bat that this guy was probably
up to no good, even if I’d never seen him before. I told him you were out of the house and that I didn’t know where you were. He thanked me and left, but I could tell he was pretty disappointed. When he got to the end of the driveway, he pulled out a phone from his pocket and called someone. I couldn’t hear what he said, but the phone call didn’t last long. He hung up pretty quickly and then went down to the end of the street and disappeared around the corner. Literally disappeared. One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t. It was really weird.”
“And what did you do after that?”
“I thought about calling you up to let you know, but for some reason I didn’t think that would suffice. I thought that this man didn’t have healthy intentions for you, so I dug up my old Lightning Fist costume, slapped it on, and went out to find you. I knew you were at work, so I took a short cut and ended up stumbling on you and those criminals back there. Lucky you, eh?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t really listening anymore. I was thinking about the Japanese man who came to my home asking to see me. That man was undoubtedly Takeshi. The blue eyes confirmed it, but the implication of that thought was almost too horrible for me to think about.
First off, Takeshi knew my secret identity. How he knew that, I had no clue. I’d worn my costume when I fought him earlier and my visor was a solid black on the outside, meaning he couldn’t have seen my face. It was possible he could have gotten it from the government, but the implication of that was even more horrifying, because the government’s list of sidekicks was top secret, accessible to only a handful of thoroughly-vetted people in the government and protected by the most advanced and effective security measures in the country. If Takeshi somehow had access to that list, that meant that my identity was completely blown.
