Wanted: A Superhero to Save the World

by Bryan Davis

  “I sold one of my inventions.”

  She snorted, spilling brown juice over her bottom lip. “Don’t lie to me, Eddie. You’re probably stealing stuff and fencing it with Milligan.”

  “Look. You got your money. If you think I’m a thief, then call the cops. I’ll be glad to tell them what’s growing in your window planter.”

  “Rabble.” She slammed the door in my face. I backed away a step, wishing I had the strength to kick it open.

  “I don’t like her,” Sam said.

  “No one does. Not even Mom.”

  “And she smells like burnt popcorn.”

  “Burnt popcorn?”

  Sam nodded. “With butter.”

  I took a whiff of the air. Just the usual mildew. No popcorn. Either Sam’s inferno of an appetite was making her imagine food, or she had a super-sensitive nose to go along with her other powers.

  I gestured with my head. “Let’s check on Mom.”

  Chapter 6

  What Do You Do With a Ghost Superhero?

  Sam and I hurried up the stairs. When we reached our apartment door, it opened. Mom stood at the threshold wearing a fresh waitress smock to go with pressed jeans and a black “Magruder’s Italian Restaurant” polo. Her worried expression melted into a smile that did a bad job hiding her sadness. “So you two rascals went out on a shopping expedition, did you?”

  I shrugged my backpack. “Yeah. Got some stuff from Jack. I traded my VR helmet.”

  Mom’s eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “And we got snow cones.” Sam spread out her blue-stained hands.

  “What happened to your arms?” Mom grabbed Sam’s wrist and looked her over. “You’re all swollen. You must have had an allergic reaction.” She gave me a scolding stare. “Eddie, I’ve told you about her sensitivity to food dye. The snow cones were probably loaded with it.”

  I hid my relief at her mistake. “I didn’t think about it. Sorry.”

  Mom pushed Sam inside. “Get in the tub and scrub every inch. Eddie will get you some Benadryl.”

  I slid off my backpack. “You look like you’re kind of stressed out.”

  “Probably because I’m working two shifts today, including prep for the lunch crowd. And I’m closing, so I’ll be late tonight.”

  “How late?”

  “Around midnight, but it could be later.”

  I tried not to flinch. I had to leave at around eleven, and I’d have to take my hologram projector with me, so she wouldn’t see my phantom clone tucked safely into bed. “Are you working so many hours because the rent’s late?”

  Her brow furrowed. “Who told you that?”

  “You know you can’t hide stuff from me.” I withdrew the remaining cash from my pocket and handed her all but what I needed for bus fare and a bit extra. “I paid the overdue rent and part of next month’s. This is for food.”

  As she stared at the money, a tear sparkled in her eye. “You sold your helmet to pay our rent?”

  “More or less. I kept a little for stuff I need. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Mind? Mind?” She pulled me into a tight hug. “Eddie, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  When she let me go, she brushed tears from her cheeks with trembling hands. “Listen. On the way home tonight, I’ll stop at Fred’s and get some ice cream, and we’ll have sundaes for breakfast tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

  “Great, Mom, but since the rent’s paid, can’t you skip the late shift?”

  She ran her fingers through my hair. “No, silly. I promised Victor. But I can cut down my hours next week, and we’ll plan an outing for the three of us. All right?”

  “I guess so, but —”

  “I gotta go.” She scooted past me and headed for the stairs. “We can talk about it over ice cream tomorrow.” As her no-slip sneakers squeaked on the steps, she called back, “And don’t forget Sam’s Benadryl. It’s in the medicine cabinet.”

  Seconds later, she was gone.

  I heaved a sigh. Getting out tonight without her noticing would be tough. I often avoided going on patrol whenever she planned to work late, though sometimes I would catch a nap and leave after she came home and checked on us.

  Exhaustion swept over me like a ten-ton weight. I yawned. I had plenty of time to get some sleep. Better to be wide awake for testing Damocles’s hologram later.

  I took the new computer out of its box along with its detachable power cord and plugged the unit into the wall to charge its battery. After helping Sam get her lunch, I gobbled a baloney sandwich, put my watch on the desk, and flopped into bed.

  Sleep pounced on me like a lonely puppy. I dreamed about strawberries battling blue raspberries on a field of crushed ice until something shook my bed. I grabbed the mattress and looked around. The entire room rattled. The crack in the wall widened.

  Sam ran into the room, shouting, “I think it’s an earthquake!”

  When I reached out for her, she jumped into bed with me. For the next twenty seconds, we hugged each other and rode out the tremors. Finally, they stopped.

  “Mephisto?” Sam asked.

  “Has to be. Nirvana hasn’t had an earthquake in a hundred years.” I jumped out of bed and flipped on my desktop computer. Nothing happened. I hit the light switch. Again, nothing. “Power’s out.”

  I picked up my backpack and laid it on the bed. After withdrawing my hologram projector and unplugging the new handheld computer, I added the projector adapter and snapped the two units together. The combination still fit in my hand and wouldn’t be too heavy attached to my belt.

  I turned on the projector. When it powered up, I plugged in Damocles’s flash drive and waited for it to process the loaded image. As before, the AI unit appeared in clear 3D, though still motionless.

  While the computer portion of my combined device powered up, I glanced at the desk clock — dark. My watch lay next to it, just out of reach. “Any idea what time it is?”

  “I was watching Princess Queenie,” Sam said, “so it’s between five and five-thirty. It was almost over, so probably five-thirty.”

  “Then I slept more than four hours. The computer battery should have enough juice.” I looked at the window. Even closed, car-horn blasts passed through. “Mephisto scheduled the quake for rush hour. That’s the best time to cause the most chaos.”

  Sam laid her hands over her ears. “People are shouting bad words.”

  “With all the signals out, it’s probably the worst traffic jam in history.” I drew a mental picture of the jam — a tangled mass of cars and trucks going nowhere. What about the buses? Would they run at all? If not, I might have to walk downtown tonight.

  I booted up the handheld computer’s embedded AI program. Within seconds, Damocles began moving. The built-in camera, a sphere on top of the unit, lit up with a blue glow all the way around. “Can you see us?” I asked.

  Damocles nodded. “So you were able to get the devices you needed. Well done.” The computer’s life-tech speaker made his voice sound like he was really in the room — loud and resonating.

  I gave him a rundown of the recent events as well as the problems I now faced, including getting to the Stellar building. I finished with a sigh. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “My current programming provides instructions to help my successor create this hologram. Now that you’ve succeeded, I need to load the next programming phase — the essence engine.” Damocles leaned toward me. “Do you have the red wallet?”

  I picked up Damocles’s belt and withdrew the wallet from its pouch. “Right here, but you said you didn’t know anything about it.”

  “That was before this phase was triggered. Turn the wallet inside out, and you will find a standard computer interface. Plug it into your handheld unit, and I will access the code.”

  I opened the bi-fold wallet.
On one side, the leather material covered a circular bulge about twice the size of a silver dollar, but there seemed to be no zipper to access whatever was hidden underneath.

  Inserting my thumbs into the money pocket, I turned the wallet inside out and found a short cable deep inside. I plugged it into one of the handheld computer’s ports. “Done.”

  Damocles bowed his head. “It has been a pleasure, Eddie. Stand by for further instructions.”

  The image flickered and faded. Then Damocles’s voice emanated from the speaker. “Create a password. Make sure it cannot be guessed by anyone.”

  I brought up the screen’s keyboard and tapped “cabbageflavoredicecream.” The screen flashed, and Damocles’s hologram reappeared, clearer than ever. He looked like a real person, as if he actually stood in the room with us, though this time he wore no mask. His dreadlocks framed his chiseled ebony face as he looked straight at me. “Eddie?”

  “Yeah. Sam and I are still here. Did your AI brain reboot or something?”

  “I’m not an AI unit.” He scanned the wall behind me. “I must be inside your apartment. This looks like the room you drew in your comic strip.” He pointed. “Is that the window I carried your mother through?”

  “Right. In my story my mother was checking on Sam and me, and she —” I gulped. “How could you know that? We talked about my comic strip after you programmed the AI unit.”

  “Like I said, I’m not an AI unit.” The camera in the handheld zoomed in on me, and the tiny screen displayed my puzzled expression. “When I died, the red wallet absorbed my essence, and now it’s in your computer. I have all my memories, experiences, and thinking skills. The only thing I lack is my body.”

  My hands trembled. He was alive again … sort of. “So you planned your death scenario, a secret way to survive if Mephisto finally figured out how to kill you.”

  “That explanation will do for now, though there is more to it.”

  “So what’s the next step in your plan?”

  “I am aware of what you told the AI unit, so we need to get to the Stellar building and meet with Mr. Chet Graham.”

  A knock sounded at the main entry door. I handed the projector/computer combination to Sam. “I’ll be right back.”

  I hustled through the apartment and called out, “Who is it?”

  “Barney. I have a message from your mom.”

  I unlocked the door and opened it. Barney stood in the hall, carrying a trap with a dead rat dangling from it. A hunk of cheese protruded from its mouth. “Your mom sent the restaurant’s delivery guy on a bicycle to ask me to check on you.” He scanned the walls and ceiling. “I don’t see any new cracks here. Apartment Three-F nearly split in half. I had to move that Russian couple and their blind sheepdog to Apartment One-B. The tub faucet leaks, but that’s no big deal. They never bathe.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.” I pushed the door. “If you can get a message back to my mom, tell her Sam and I are fine.”

  He stopped the swinging door with a hand. “I’d better have a look at the crack in your bedroom.”

  Just as he took a step inside, I blocked his way. “It’s all right. No worries.” I nodded at the rat. “Sam has lots of allergies, so we can’t let that near her.”

  He lifted the trap and watched the rat’s body sway. “Sorry. I’ll get outta here and send a message back with the delivery guy.” As he walked to the hallway, he added, “And don’t be surprised if your mom doesn’t get back till morning. Magruder’s is being set up as a shelter, so she might be serving customers all night. Not that she could take the bus home anyway. The routes are all closed. But she’ll make a lot of tip money.”

  “Yeah. Well, we’ll be fine.” When Barney walked out, I began closing the door again. “Don’t worry about us.”

  “Sure thing. I’ll check on you in the morning.”

  I closed the door the rest of the way. After setting the deadbolt, I clenched a fist. Perfect. Since Mom would be at the restaurant all night, I could take the projector to the Stellar building, and no one would be the wiser.

  I walked toward the bedroom. Of course, I’d have to take Sam with me, but that would be fine. With all the chaos on the streets, no one would pay attention to two kids sneaking downtown. But I’d have to get an early start — give Sam a big dinner and hit the road with her at dusk.

  When I entered the bedroom, Sam was dancing on the bed, making her hanging dragon sway while Damocles hummed a tune, bouncing on his toes with the rhythm. Then he broke into song.

  “Princess Queenie, fairy blessed, of all the fairies, you’re the best. Spread your sparkles far and wide. Take me on a sparkle ride.”

  When they saw me, they stopped abruptly. Damocles straightened and smiled. “Your sister is an excellent dancer, but she says you won’t sing with her.”

  “Not that song.” I picked up the handheld computer from where Sam had propped it on my desk. Damocles’s image zipped around the room until I steadied it again. “Listen. The buses aren’t running, so my mom’s probably not coming home tonight. We can walk to the Stellar building, but it’ll take a couple of hours.”

  “We?” Sam jumped down from the bed. “I’m going, too?”

  “I can’t leave you here alone.” I looked at Damocles as he hovered a few inches above the floor. “Any advice before I shut you off?”

  “First, take whatever you can carry from my belt, especially Mastix. I’ll teach you how to revive it and use it.”

  I glanced at the whip where I had laid it on my desk, its thongs still dark.

  “Second,” he continued, “you’ll have to be sneaky. Assume Mephisto saw the ad, so he’ll be watching for me. Because of your age, you might be able to slip past his spies right under their noses. Just watch out for anything and everything. You’re smart. Use your brains.”

  I nodded. “Easy to say. Hard to do.”

  “Nothing heroic is ever easy.” He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “Heroes often have to do hard things.”

  I looked at his serious expression. He was right. If I wanted to be a hero, I had to forget about the danger and just do it. “Okay. Thanks. Anything else?”

  He shook his head. “You can turn me off now. Bring me back anytime you need me.”

  “All right. Thanks again.” I turned the projector off. Damocles faded and disappeared.

  Sam blinked at me. “That was as cool as fruit-punch ice cubes.”

  “Yeah. Tell me about it.” I altered to an energetic tone. “Okay, let’s grab a quick dinner and get going.”

  “Cold pizza’s fast.” Sam scurried out of the bedroom in a flash.

  After putting my watch back on, I grabbed the two gadget belts — Damocles’s and mine — and laid them on my bed. Several items on his belt were blackened or melted, but I found a small working flashlight and an auto-reel spool. That would come in handy because I had only one loaded spool left. Using their built-in clips, I fastened the gadgets and the computer combo to my own belt and wrapped it around my waist.

  Bouncing on my toes, I tested the load. Too bulky. I detached the paintball gun and empty spool and retested the load. Not great, but it would work.

  Just as I tightened the strap, the building began shaking again. I set my feet and shouted, “Sam! Another earthquake!”

  Chapter 7

  Sneaking Through the Dead Zone

  I clipped Mastix to my belt and staggered to the kitchen. Sam stood motionless with a slice of pizza dangling from her mouth, her arms and legs spread. The ceiling cracked. Above her head, a big chunk of wallboard dropped. I grabbed her wrist and jerked her out of the way just before it crashed to the floor.

  Still holding her wrist, I ran with her into the hall, down the stairs, and out the main entry. We stood under a portico where cars drop off passengers. Sirens wailed. Horns honked. People ran from place to place, some q
uiet, some shouting.

  The ground shook even harder. The portico’s support columns broke. The roof collapsed. I dropped to a crouch and tried to pull Sam down, but she stood firm. The pizza still in her mouth, she caught the roof in her uplifted hands and held it aloft. Although her brow bent, her arms didn’t even tremble.

  “Run,” she said, mumbling through the pizza.

  I scrambled on all fours. When I got out of the way, she threw the roof. The ten-foot-by-ten-foot slab of wood and concrete hit the pavement and broke into three pieces. Dust flew everywhere.

  Her brow still bent, Sam walked toward me and pulled out the pizza. “Now it’s dirty.”

  I rose and glanced around. As the tremors continued, people ran in every direction. It seemed that no one noticed Sam’s superhuman feat. “Thanks,” I said. “Sorry about the pizza.”

  “So I eat a little dirt.” She brushed sand from the slice and took a big bite.

  Barney ran out of our building and halted where the portico used to be. He stared at us wide eyed. “Eddie, Samantha, you made it!”

  “Yeah. We’re fine.” Bracing my feet against the trembling ground, I scanned the rest of our building. It still seemed pretty solid for the most part. “How’s everything inside?”

  The moment I asked the question, people began streaming out the door with suitcases and armloads of belongings. “Not good at all,” Barney said. “We’re evacuating.”

  “Where will everyone go?”

  “To the shelters. Stronger buildings.” He withdrew a harmonica from his jeans pocket. “Think you can walk to Magruder’s to be with your mom?”

  “No problem. Sam and I have walked there lots of times.”

  “Good. You can get there before dark.” Barney blew a high note on the harmonica. “Listen, everyone. I have a list of shelters.”

  While he talked, I imagined the cracks in our ceiling getting longer and wider. My superhero generator might not be safe, but what could I do? We had to get to the roof of the Stellar building … if it still stood.

  “Let’s go.” I took Sam’s hand, and we walked briskly on the sidewalk toward Magruder’s, the tremors lessening along the way. When we came upon a truck that had careened off the road and slammed into a streetlamp, blocking our path, we shifted to the road. Since it was filled with cars that couldn’t go anywhere because of the massive traffic jam, we weaved around them until we were well out of Barney’s sight.