Black Power- The Superhero Anthology

by Balogun Ojetade

  Steph took off his mask and knelt by the couch.

  “Look at me, Tariq. Just tell me who did this to you. I give you my word…”

  Tariq looked at Steph’s face. He had only seen Steph, once. He’d watched him walk through a pimp right under his bedroom window. The guy had a gun and everything, Ninjaman ended up hitting the man with his own gun. By the time Tariq had the mind to get his phone and record the action, Ninjaman was gone and the pimp was tied up and waiting to go to jail. The pimp didn’t go to jail but Tariq never saw him again. Tariq fantasized about what the face under the mask looked like. It was a normal face, like everybody else’s.

  “He was wearing blue,” Tariq whispered.

  “Did he have a red cross?”

  “Yeah. On his chest.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  “He wanted to know where King Lou was.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  Tariq was quiet.

  “Tariq.”

  “He hurt me.” He sounded, so much, the child.

  “I know.”

  “I told him he was at Club 63. I don’t know.”

  “Okay. I got you, man.”

  Steph turned to Sylvia.

  “Can you get him to the hospital?”

  “He won’t go. I can’t get him off the couch,” said Sylvia. The panic in her voice was becoming harder to mask.

  “I’ll send for an ambulance to come get him.”

  “I can’t afford…” the panic slammed against a thin sheet of cool ice.

  “Don’t worry about it. I owe you and somebody owes me. They’ll take care of your boy.”

  Steph walked to the door.

  .”Where are you going?” Sylvia asked.

  “Me and Crusader need to have a sit down and come to an agreement.”

  “Agree your foot in his face, for me!”

  Steph almost smiled.

  ***

  Steph was sure that King Lou was not at Club 63. Club 63 was a reggae club and there was nothing about King Lou that liked small clubs that played Shabba Ranks when they wanted to go old school. But that made no difference. Crusader didn’t know that and his “informant” told him King Lou would be there. So Steph knew that’s where he’d find Crusader. Crusader did not know enough to know that any information he got through torture was no good. Why would anybody allow you to keep terrorizing them when they could just tell the torturer anything to make them stop? That’s what Tariq did. Tariq would have told Crusader that King Lou was on the moon if he thought that would end the pain. And Crusader had no better sense than to believe a scared 14-year-old in pain.

  Steph pulled up in front of the club. He figured that Crusader would probably pick high ground to do surveillance on the club. Sure enough, peeking at the building across the street, he spotted Crusader’s head just over the edge. Steph knew that his direct approach was probably a mistake. There was no element of surprise.

  That was okay.

  “Crusader! We need to talk,”

  No movement.

  “King Lou is not here! I can help you! But not while you are up there!”

  Steph’s call drew attention. A group of men that were talking near an apartment doorway stopped to see what was happening and if they would have to run. People came to their windows, their TV’s turned down. Those who were stepping out of the club for a smoke ducked in to call their friends. People pulled over cars.

  By the time the Crusader used his cape to glide from his rooftop, the street was full of people. Steph had an audience.

  Crusader spoke first. His voice was altered, like it was going through a filter.

  “I’ve been watching you. I think we are on the same side. Welcome to the fight.”

  Crusader extended his hand but Steph did not take it.

  “You broke the arm of a fourteen-year-old,”

  “Necessary evil. He was protecting scum because he was scared of it. So I gave him something new to fear: Me.”

  “And he gave you bogus information because he was a scared boy. So what did you achieve, here?”

  “Vengeance. Vengeance against those that would swallow this city whole. There are so many of them!” Crusader’s cowled face did not hide his scowl.

  “Man, I’m telling you, you hurt a child!”

  Order on the inside makes order on the outside.

  “He was protecting scum! So that made him scum.”

  “Scum? He was on the honor roll! Twice! He watches Star Trek! Voluntarily!”

  “It doesn’t matter. This city is sick. These people have tolerated it long enough. It is my job to cleanse it! Help me.”

  “Tolerated it? Man…you gotta go.”

  “I can’t be stopped. I am justice.”

  “Man, you come straight outta a comic book. Maybe you can do some good somewhere, but there is no place for someone like you in this neighborhood. You gotta go!”

  Steph saw the phones. He was no good at theater, perhaps another reason why the news ignored him. But he wanted people to see what was going to happen next.

  Crusader squared up. His combat stance was subtle…elegant. “Ninjaman, I know you are a protector in this neighborhood. With you by my side I know that we can clean up this cesspool for decent people.”

  At this moment, Steph decided three things:

  I have to take a more active role in my branding. Ninjaman can NOT be my name.

  There are enough people around us and it is time to work.

  A thousand years of breeding to be a sidekick? No.

  Steph went for Crusader’s throat with a knife hand. Crusader blocked the blow and simultaneously used the same arm to swipe an elbow at Stephen’s head…also blocked.

  Steph’s mind was a calculator, analyzing each move and response; measuring angles and creating a profile of Crusader’s fighting style. Crusader had weapons. Stephen just wasn’t sure what type; probably non-lethals. Still, with all of the people around, he would have to make sure Crusader’s hands were too busy to use them.

  Crusader let launch a series of kicks. They were easy enough to stop. So that meant that they were a setup for…

  An uppercut came at Steph from the right. Crusader was definitely a southpaw. He tried to hide it. This was a good asset to keep hidden against a skilled fighter, but Steph had trained for this. He crossed his arms to trap the punch and shot out his right fist which connected with Crusader’s chin and sent him spinning.

  The Crusader wasted little time in coming with a backhand blow that did not take Steph by surprise. Steph stopped it and was about to counterstrike when he heard a clicking sound. Something black and hard was around his left wrist and before he could stop his right hand from crossing it, a black metal band clicked around his right wrist. His hands were shackled. In the moment it took Steph to realize what was happening, the Crusader had put everything he had into a punch straight to Steph’s solar plexus. A starburst of pain went off in Steph’s middle. His diaphragm forgot how to help him draw breath. The problem with a shot to the solar plexus is that the sudden loss of air and the ability to breath made the victim panic. Not Steph. He knew this trick and this pain had been useful. Steph fell to his back but instantly kicked his feet over his head so that he rolled backwards and he was on his feet again. Steph stood with his hands before him, below his mid-section.

  ***

  His grandfather named all of the men in Steph’s family who had been to jail.

  “They put these cuffs on you and they make your hands useless. You gotta learn how to fight with them on. We been doing it since slavery. And we still gotta do it to this day.”

  After Steph’s hands were tied behind his back, one of Grandfather’s other pupils, a 13-year-old girl from up the block, began to lay into him. Grandfather laughed while Steph ducked and dodged this girl’s cobra-fast fists.

  “You gonna rope-a-dope forever, hmm? You wastin’ food, ain’t cha? Get those arms up front. It’s just pain.”

  Her speed and en
durance made Steph wonder if she was family. This kept up until the girl was winded and Steph learned to dislocate his shoulders and swing his arms over his head to bring his hands in front of him. He spent a year learning how to turn shackled hands into an advantage.

  ***

  Crusader moved in to capitalize on a stunned Steph. Steph’s hands stopped Crusader’s blow at the elbow while Steph kicked into Crusader’s hip. This caused the Crusader to bend forward. Steph drove his knee into Crusader’s face and then grabbed a device from his opponent’s utility belt. It was small with two buttons. Steph took a chance on the bottom button and the shackles released. He had a moment to pull them off as the Crusader began to recover.

  Then Steph had an inspired moment. He crossed his hands at the wrists and stood ready.

  The Crusader noticed his hands and hesitated, reevaluating before he attacked. Crusader let loose with an axe-kick, high and powerful. Steph stepped into it and his “bound wrists” snapped up to catch the kick before it could bring its momentum downward. Steph used Crusader’s compromised balance to push him backward. He went down.

  Crusader popped up. Steph saw his hands go for his belt again – throwing knives. There were people everywhere.

  This time Steph kicked the inside of Crusader’s knees to break his stance to throw him off balance while his hands slammed into a nerve-cluster between the biceps and shoulder muscles.

  Crusader’s arm fell limp, too numb to use the knives.

  Steph blocked a reflexive punch from Crusader’s right hand and then deadened that arm also.

  This would force Crusader to use those high-kicks.

  When he did, Steph cut off circulation to Crusader’s legs.

  ***

  He remembered his first lessons consisted of him trying to lay one punch on Grandfather while the 66-year-old bartender swept Steph’s legs from under him. He remembered his grandfather’s tooth-starved grin,

  “You can’t fight if you can’t stand, hmm?” He chided as Steph fell time and time again. “What you got yo feet in the air, fo’? Hmm? This a fight, not a date.”

  Steph was never sure if it was the mocking or the desire to learn that kept driving him to his feet. All that mattered was that he kept getting up.

  Crusader felt his legs go numb and he became unsteady. He tried another strike but it was clumsy and slow because he had not regained feeling in his arms, yet.

  Steph let the punch slide over his shoulder as he brought his arm around Crusader’s front and wrapped it around his neck. Using his hip as a fulcrum, Steph lifted Crusader off his feet and brought him to the ground in a choke hold. Crusader struggled and slapped but he had no strength or leverage.

  Steph applied pressure to Crusader’s carotid artery. He looked up at the cameras. Still applying pressure, he held his “bound” wrists in front of him.

  “Even shackled, we are strong. We are not scum, a blight, gangsters, whores, bums, killers, sloths, or problems to be solved. We are people and we will heal ourselves. You are welcome to help, but if you come here to hurt us, to imprison us, to terrorize us…”

  Steph felt Crusader’s body go lax and released him. Crusader flopped to the ground like a pancake sliding from a pan.

  “…you gotta go!”

  ***

  At 6 a.m., Saul got up early and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He picked up his Bible and opened it to a bookmarked page.

  Lord,I know that people’s lives are not their own;it is not for them to direct their steps.Discipline me, Lord, but only in due measure.

  This was his thought as he made his bed. Surely the answer to his problem had not been within himself. All he knew was violence. It was in his DNA. Even now, he was compelled to continue conditioning his body so that it would be ready to fight. He turned on the television to the morning news, as was his custom and began a set of 100 push-ups. His mind counted in the background as the television news told of man’s shame. He stopped in the middle of number 67 when he saw an amateur video with the caption “Chicago’s New Villain.”

  “Onlookers shot this video as the Crusader was assailed by a mysterious attacker. It is unclear what the motive for the attack was but citizens are concerned about this new level of violence in Chicago’s beleaguered Englewood neighborhood. The assailant has been called ‘Ninjaman’ by locals who say that they do not know who he is or where he is from. Police are currently investigating.”

  Saul saw the man in black choke out the Crusader as he looked at the camera. It looked like he was saying something but the sound of the video was muted as the news anchor talked out the side of his neck. But Saul saw the man in black’s eyes and knew that he was looking at his son, Stephen.

  He thought on this as he finished the set and then stood up. Something in Saul told him that his son would not be able to resist. There was a part of Saul that was disappointed. There was a smaller part of him that was so proud that it made Saul shine on the inside.

  “But…Ninjaman? We can do better, hmm?”

  NEW ELEMENTS

  M. Haynes

  The fifth command of the Mystics demands that we “Seek to do the greatest good for all your lives”, and that’s what I planned to do when I joined this team. It was so inspiring to interview the generation of Elementals that took out A.G., and now I get to be a part of them. To hear them talk about how difficult it was to beat her, how much they struggled, I couldn’t believe that people like them cared that much, and now I’m one of them, using my powers to help protect the world. It’s a big change, but I’m excited about it. The Mystics command it of us, so it will be done.

  -Kiara

  “Aurora Baris Mal!” Kiara yelled, firing bursts of yellow light energy toward the android racing toward her friend M. The android fell, face first, far enough from M for him to shoot a bolt of electricity at it, effectively shutting it off.

  “Thanks!” M called back to her.

  Kiara smiled at him and turned around just in time to be met with another android firing more laser blasts at very close range. The light from the blast brightened Kiara’s already bright skin and her bushy black ponytail as well as M’s afro before it connected with both of them. Both stumbled a bit from the force of the blasts, but thankfully their reinforced Skin Armor (Kiara’s blue blouse and M’s denim shirt) blocked most of the blasts. She turned toward the firing android and cast another spell in its direction, this time causing a series of bright lights that blinded the android and rendered it unable to see to aim any more laser blasts. M took this opportunity to send another wave of electricity at it, stopping it completely just like the first one.

  The super-powered teens known as the Elementals were locked in a battle with a group of androids they had discovered terrorizing a small community in their native country, the Great Lands. During their quest to rid the Great Lands of the remaining androids, the mayor of the town called Quten called them with a report of androids in the vicinity, so their leader, a Fire Elemental named De, rounded up M, Rod, Mo, Jas, Lucas, and Kiara to go check it out. Almost as soon as they entered the town to investigate, they were jumped by at least a dozen of the androids they were looking for.

  “Rod? Where are you?” De yelled over the sound of the android’s powerful laser attacks hitting the building he was hiding behind. He hated to be using it as a shelter, especially since it was clearly still being rebuilt, but it was either that or take the lasers himself, and being that his Skin Armor was nothing more than jeans and a red muscle shirt, he wasn’t sure how long he could do that.

  “I’m coming!” The Water Elemental was busy pulling water from the nearest source he could sense. He figured there were some puddles or something nearby, but when he noticed the portable bathroom in the distance he yelled to De, “You might not wanna let that touch you!” as he sent the…liquid rushing past him. Rod’s attack doused the three androids threatening to crush De with debris, and while they were distracted, both he and M pelted their attackers with their element-based abilit
ies. Rod pulled on his jeans and ran back toward the others to try to help out. Not far from the three boys, his sister Jasmin “Jas” Reno was struggling a little bit against the androids attacking her.

  “Go away, already!” Jas yelled, spinning her arms around her and sending another powerful gust of wind toward the two androids that pursued her. The androids seemed to be heavier than she anticipated, and refused to be blown away. They opened fire, and when Jas stopped her wind to duck out of the way, they ran closer. There was clear frustration in her round face as she flung out her arms again and the androids this time had to struggle to power through the windstorm. Jas planted her boots in the dirt below her and shifted her weight so that she could strengthen the gusts, stopping the androids’ movement completely and making them excellent targets for Lucas to use his own laser hand to pick them off. He willed one of his brown strands of hair to become a scope so he could snipe the androids from a safe distance.

  “Nice shooting!” Jas said.

  Lucas just nodded and turned what was his laser hand into a blade and ran to help the last of their team, the Ice Elemental Mo, who struggled the most out of them.

  Mo had been trying to encase the androids around him in ice, but unfortunately he had not yet mastered using his power to freeze things without the help of some body of water.

  Lucas, however, was more than capable of helping him, so when an android knocked Mo off of his feet, Lucas was able to counter by slashing at the machine with his (now sword shaped) hands.

  Mo looked up at Lucas with gratitude, but before he could do anything further, the final android among the team started shooting laser blasts off in every direction. The attacks sent most of the Elementals running in every direction to avoid getting blasted, but one stood through the onslaught and pitched a well-timed and very powerful fireball at the android, stopping its attack and the machine itself.

  “Nice shot, man!” Mo said to De.

  “Thanks! I have been working on my…”