The Legacy Superhero Omnibus Page 17

  But a flash of light before me caused me to look up and I was surprised by what—no, who—I saw floating before me, looking down at me with concerned eyes:

  It was TW. He was fuzzier and more transparent than usual, to the point where I could barely see his face. Nonetheless, there was no mistaking the hologram floating before me for anyone other than my faithful sidekick and mentor, the guy who had been with me ever since I got the Trickshot Watch and taught me almost everything I know about it.

  “TW?” I said, my voice shockingly weak even to me. “What are you doing here? I don’t have the Watch anymore. You shouldn’t be here.”

  TW smiled grimly. “Actually, I can project my hologram well beyond the parameters of the person who happens to own the Trickshot Watch. There is, however, a limit to how far I can project, and I’m pushing that limit farther than I ever have before. That’s why I look fuzzier than normal. It’s taking me almost all of my strength just to appear before you like this.”

  “Wow,” I said. I coughed and gasped suddenly. “Not that it matters. I’ll probably die of blood loss soon. You’ll just be the only witness to my death.”

  “Not exactly,” said TW, shaking his head. “Here, let me help you.”

  TW leaned forward and brushed his fingers against my forehead. It was a surprisingly cool touch, more like a gentle summer breeze than an ice cube. As soon as his fingers brushed against my forehead, the pain in my body started to go away. The bullets in my body fell out of the bullet holes, while the holes themselves started to close up naturally on their own.

  Soon, the bullet holes closed completely and I no longer felt like I was dying, though I was still very tired nonetheless.

  “What the …” I felt the spot on my chest where the bullet had struck. “No way. This can’t be happening. I must be hallucinating this entire thing.”

  “There’s nothing false about your healing,” said TW, standing up straight again. “All of your injuries have indeed been healed. You’re as good as new now.”

  “But …” I was at a complete loss for words. “How? I don’t have the Trickshot costume. How could I have possibly been healed without my powers?”

  “I forgot to mention to you that the powers of the Trickshot costume linger for five minutes after the suit is taken off,” said TW. “Granted, they linger in a much weaker form than normal, but they’re still there and they can still work, including the suit’s healing abilities, which I activated by touching you. Therefore, the remnants of your power must have saved you from your demise.”

  “So that’s why I managed to fly despite having lost the Watch,” I said in a voice of gradually dawning realization. “That’s amazing.”

  “It’s not amazing,” TW insisted. “It’s just the natural abilities of the suit. You see, when you wear the suit regularly, it does, at least to some degree, start to become a second skin. It forms a symbiotic relationship with the host, and the quicker it does, the more likely you are to retain your powers even after taking off the costume.”

  “It’s still amazing regardless.” I slowly rose to my feet. “Thanks, TW. I really owe you one.”

  “No problem, Jack,” said TW. “I’m merely doing what Gregory would want me to do. Besides, I like you a lot better than I like my current owner and—”

  TW suddenly fizzled out of existence before reappearing, though now with a more worried look on his face.

  “Uh oh,” said TW, a weird echo to his voice now. “I’m almost entirely out of my range now. Don’t have much longer before I can no longer project myself to you.”

  “Where is Michael Jones?” I said. “Can you tell me where he’s going?”

  “Back to his office,” said TW, his voice rising and falling in volume with his flickering body. “Your parents are there, too, and Christina. You should hurry, because—”

  TW abruptly vanished just then, leaving me alone on the rooftop of the Peter Glow Building once again. I wished that TW had stayed a little while longer, because I wanted to know why I needed to hurry. What was Michael doing that made my urgency important?

  Not that it mattered. Michael may have thought that the war between me and him was over, but as he was about to learn, it just got started.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  I ran over to the door to the rest of the building and, opening it, peeked my head inside. I saw nothing except a set of stairs leading down further into the building, but I knew better than to just rush blindly into the unknown. They couldn’t be that far ahead of me, given how I hadn’t been falling very long. Still, without my costume, I’d have to be careful about moving forward, least I attract their attention and get into a fight I couldn’t win.

  I began walking down the stairs slowly and cautiously. I wanted to walk quickly, but I was afraid of my footsteps being heard. So I moved as silently as I could, taking each step one at a time and pausing to listen for any sounds below. It was oddly quiet, but it made sense, given how they didn’t expect anyone to come down from the roof. As far as they knew, I was a splattered mess on the street, where I couldn’t hurt anyone. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when they found out that I was still alive.

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I found another door, this one with a tiny window that allowed me to look out into the hallway on the other side. Peering through the window, I saw that the hallway beyond was empty. I didn’t see either my parents or the Injectors, but I knew they had to be somewhere nearby.

  Just as I was about to open the door, however, one of the doors in the hallway outside opened. I immediately moved my head away from the window and went very still, listening to the sounds of footsteps on the carpet. Very carefully, I peered through the window again and saw two Injectors—who I recognized as being a couple of the jerks who shot me—walking toward this door.

  Uh oh. If they entered the staircase and saw me, I’d be dead for sure. I looked around for a place to hide, but in this small space, there was no real hiding place. I just moved over to the other side of the room and crouched as low as I could. When the door opened, it would block me from their view, which would mean they wouldn’t see me immediately. And if they walked up the staircase, then I would also have to bet on them not looking down and seeing me, either. It was a terrible situation to be in, but it seemed like I found myself in terrible situations a lot nowadays.

  The door opened. It nearly slammed into me, stopping just inches from the tips of my shoes, and then the two Injectors entered the stairwell. Luckily, they didn’t look around when they entered. They just started walking up the stairs, talking to each other all the while, while I stayed as still as I possibly could against the wall, hoping against hope that the Injectors would not look down and see me crouching there like a kid playing hide and seek.

  “This seems like a waste of time,” said one of the Injectors in a low, gruff voice. “No way that kid could have survived being shot three times and falling from a six story building.”

  “I agree, but the boss wants us to make sure,” said the second Injector, whose voice was a lot louder than his friend. “Says that he doesn’t want any ‘unnecessary’ surprises. You know how he is.”

  I hid my surprise, but I found it difficult because I thought I had the element of surprise on my side. Perhaps I still did, because Michael Jones did not know if I was still alive or not. Regardless, I would have to move quickly now, because once the Injectors got to the roof and looked over the side of the roof and didn’t see my body below, they’d probably rush back down to let Jones know about my survival.

  As soon as the door to the roof opened and closed, I rose to my feet and left the stairwell, walking down the hallway as quickly as I could. There were a lot of doors on either side of the hallway, but not one of them was conveniently labeled with the Injectors’ name, which made it hard to know where Jones could be. Even worse, I didn’t have all the time in the world to open each door and find out who was behind each one.

  “Jack …” said TW’s
voice in my head suddenly, though very weak and faint. “Jack …”

  I stopped and looked around suddenly. “TW? Is that you? Where are you?”

  “Third door from the stairwell on the left side of the hall …” came TW’s voice again. “It’s unlocked, but hurry … please hurry …”

  TW’s voice trailed off, which made it more urgent than ever that I find Jones’ office.

  I backtracked a few doors until I found the door TW had described to me. It was an ordinary brown office door, indistinguishable from the five others in the hall, and completely unmarked save for the words ‘JOE’S CAR WASHING, INC. MAIN OFFICE.’ I frowned. The Injectors were doing business under the name Joe’s Car Washing, Inc.? I guess it made sense, because no one would expect the office of a car washing company to be the front for a dangerous drug cartel, but at the same time, it also felt a bit silly. Couldn’t they have used a cooler business than that, like maybe Ion Technologies or whatever?

  But it didn’t matter. I cracked the door open just enough to peer inside without being seen. I was surprised by what I saw.

  It was a large, open office space with plenty of room for five or six people at least. At the far end of the room, tall windows overlooked the entire city of Rumsfeld, which glowed brilliantly in the dark night. On the right side of the room was a bookcase filled with books and folders, though they did not appear to be arranged in any particular order.

  On the left side of the room, however, was Mom and Dad, who were still tied up and unconscious. My heart ached when I saw them, but I didn’t burst in right away, because Mom and Dad were not the only people in the room.

  Michael Jones and Christina Madison stood near the back of the room. Well, Michael stood, holding the Trickshot Watch in his hands and looking at it curiously, while Christina sat down in a chair in front of his desk with her legs crossed and her hands folded on her lap. Neither one of them seemed to be paying attention to their surroundings, so I opened the door, sneaked inside, and quietly closed it behind me before I hid behind a second desk that was currently unoccupied. Crouching underneath the desk, I peered through the small hole that was meant for wires in the back of the desk, watching Michael and Christina and listening to their conversation.

  “The Watch is a lot less impressive than I thought it was going to be,” said Michael, tossing the Watch from hand to hand like a ball. “It doesn’t look any different from the watches that ordinary people wear.”

  “That’s the point,” said Christina. “The last thing we want is for it to look special, because then it would stand out to the wrong people who might want to take it.”

  Michael smiled. “’Wrong people,’ eh? Like me?”

  Christina smiled back, but it wasn’t a very friendly smile. “Oh, don’t worry yourself, Michael. You’re not the ‘wrong’ person, though you are going to have to give me the Watch now. You remember our agreement.”

  Michael nodded slowly, though I noticed he didn’t stop throwing the Watch from hand to hand. “Of course, but suppose I want to keep it for a little while longer.”

  “Then watch as Icon stops funding the Injectors,” said Christina. She leaned forward, her catlike smile never leaving her lips. “And your entire drug operation completely falls apart. You know that the only reason your little gang has become as powerful as it has is because of the money you’ve received from us.”

  I stifled a gasp. Icon was funding the Injectors? That made a lot of sense, actually, and explained a lot, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel surprised. Why would Icon fund a drug cartel as dangerous as these guys? What was their actual goal? What was even going on here?

  Michael stopped throwing the Watch from hand to hand. “I remember quite well. I was just joking. As useful as the Watch would be to my business, I know what happens to people who let their greed get the best of them. I’ve had to kill more than a few Injectors who tried to keep money they were supposed to give to me to themselves. I’m not going to let that happen to me, not even for a weapon as powerful as the Watch.”

  “Excellent,” said Christina. She held out a hand. “Now, I’d like to take the Watch off your hands. I need to get back to headquarters soon, because my boss is starting to get impatient and worried about the Watch being out in the wider world for so long.”

  Michael handed the Watch to Christina without hesitation. Christina took it and held the Watch in her hands, looking at it as if she had finally achieved her wildest dreams. Anger filled me when I saw Christina touch the Watch, because I knew, deep in my heart, that the Watch wasn’t hers and that it rightfully belonged to me, but I still didn’t move, because if I did now, then Michael and Christina would just kill me.

  “With the successful acquisition of the Watch, will you please ask Chaser to increase our funding? We’ve conquered nearly all of Rumsfeld and much of High Hills County. In order to expand our operations to the rest of the State, we’ll need more money than we currently have. At least a ten percent increase in our budget, though fifteen or twenty would be even better.”

  “Certainly,” said Christina, flashing Michael a winning smile. “Once Chaser is holding the Watch in his hands, I’m sure he will be happy to give you as much money as you want. Your work here in Texas is crucial to the success of our own plans, after all.”

  I tilted my head to the side. How did Icon benefit from the distribution of the Power drug? I didn’t see how that was supposed to work, but I put that question out of my mind for now, because right now I needed to focus on getting back the Watch.

  For that matter, who was Chaser? The leader of Icon? It sure sounded like it, though I’d never heard the guy’s name before. If was Christina’s boss, then he was probably even worse than her.

  “Good to hear,” said Michael. “Whatever you give me, I will make it back ten times over in Power revenue. There are still lots of people who are willing to pay a pretty penny to become super, especially rich people who are too lazy to complete the Superhero Exam themselves.”

  “Excellent,” said Christina. “Anyway, I think I should be—”

  Christina was interrupted by Michael’s cell phone ringing. Michael pulled his phone out of his pocket and, answering it, said, “What is it?”

  I couldn’t hear what the voice on the other end of the line said, but I did see Michael’s expression, which grew increasingly grimmer and grimmer the longer he listened to the voice.

  “I see,” said Michael. “Have the others search the area around the building. Order all Injectors to shoot to kill. We cannot afford to let that kid survive.”

  “That kid?” Christina said as Michael hung up the call and put his phone back into his pocket. “You aren’t talking about Jack, are you?”

  “Who else?” said Michael. “I thought this might happen. The men I sent up to the roof just called me to inform me that they cannot see the kid’s body anywhere on the pavement below, and the guards I have stationed around the building have reported not finding his body, either.”

  “Meaning he’s survived?” said Christina in amazement. “But how? He doesn’t have his powers anymore. There’s no way he should have been able to survive that fall.”

  “I don’t know or care,” said Michael. “Whether the kid was saved by someone or somehow managed to survive the fall and drag himself to safety, it’s clear that I can no longer rely on my men to do the job. I must take things into my own hands.”

  Michael walked over to the book shelves and pulled out a particularly old-looking red book from the top shelf. Immediately, the shelf to his right slid aside, revealing a short hallway that I could not see down.

  “Wait, where are you going?” said Christina, rising from her chair.

  Michael looked over his shoulder at her. “To prepare for war, of course.”

  Michael turned and walked into the hallway. As soon as he did, the bookshelves slid closed behind him, leaving Christina standing by herself somewhat awkwardly by the main desk.

  I was a little annoye
d that Michael had apparently disappeared, but hey, at least he didn’t take the Watch with him. I quietly moved over to the next desk, avoiding Christina, who was still looking at the bookshelves which Michael had disappeared behind a few seconds ago.

  “This is not good,” said Christina, apparently talking to herself. “If that kid is still alive, then he might be able to tell the police where we are, and our entire plan will fall apart. Screw Michael. He can hunt the brat if he wants. I got the Watch. I’m going to get out of here before everything goes to hell.”

  Christina walked around the desk and toward the door as quickly as she could. When she passed my desk, I stuck out my leg and she tripped over it, sending the Trickshot Watch flying out of her hands as she fell to the floor with a shout.

  I didn’t even waste a moment. I darted out from the desk and jumped, catching the Trickshot Watch before it hit the floor. I landed on the carpeted floor on my belly, but I didn’t care, because I had the Watch firmly in my grasp now. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the smooth surface of the Watch’s face with my thumbs.

  “Sorry it took so long, TW,” I muttered, “but we’re finally back together again.”

  But then I felt something wrap around my legs and looked down to see an energy rope tied around my legs. Holding the other end of the rope was Christina. Her hair was messed up and her clothing was a bit wrinkled from the fall, but it was her eyes—full of insanity and triumph—which made me freeze where I lay.

  “Dumb brat,” said Christina. “You had the perfect chance to go and tell the police about us, but you waste it trying to steal the Watch back. You really are just another dumb kid, aren’t you?”

  I didn’t respond to that. I just slapped the Watch on my wrist and, flipping the face, slammed the button down as hard as I could.

  In seconds, the Trickshot costume appeared over my body once again and I felt strength flow through me.

  “Ha!” I cried out. “Looks like I made the smart choice after all! Get ready to—”