The Legacy Superhero Omnibus Page 7

  I shrugged. “Kyle and I have known each other since first grade. We’d do anything for each other.”

  TW’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell him about the Watch, did you?”

  I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. And I don’t have any plans to at the moment, because I’m not sure I want to rope him into this stuff yet.”

  “Good,” said TW. “Gregory made it very clear that he didn’t want knowledge of the Trickshot Watch to trickle down into the general population yet. He doesn’t want you or your family to become targets for the Injectors or any other group out there who might wish you harm.”

  “Like those Icon guys you mentioned, right?” I said.

  TW nodded. “Precisely. Icon is as ruthless as the Injectors, if not more so. That is why it is so important that you train today and learn how to control your powers.”

  Yawning, I glanced at the clock on my phone and said, “But it’s so early. Do I have to start training now?”

  “Not right away,” said TW, shaking his head, “but it is imperative that you get started as soon as possible. Because you don’t have school today, that means you have all day to train and learn how to use your new powers.”

  “Right,” I said as I stretched my arms. “But where are we going to train? I’m not supposed to let anyone see me transform or use my powers just yet. Where should we go?”

  “I already have a place picked out for this purpose,” said TW. “I spent last night running a search on the Internet for any abandoned places in or near Rumsfeld which you might be able to use for training. I located one such location and have downloaded its address to your phone, as well as the quickest route there via bike.”

  I picked up my phone and went to my map app and saw that there was indeed a location that I hadn’t looked up myself: Warehouse 19, on the east side of Rumsfeld.

  I looked up at TW. “What is Warehouse Nineteen?”

  “According to my research, Warehouse Nineteen was once owned by the Lockmiller Corporation twenty years ago,” said TW. “It was abandoned after a fire, however, and has remained locked up and closed to the public ever since.”

  “There aren’t any security guards or homeless people living there, right?” I said as I lowered my phone.

  “From what I have researched, the place is totally abandoned,” said TW. “Even homeless people don’t go anywhere near it. Apparently, there is a rumor among the homeless people of Rumsfeld that Warehouse Nineteen is home to an evil fire spirit that burns anyone who tries to enter and claim the place.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And you decided that that would be a great place to train?”

  “Well, why wouldn’t it?” said TW. “It is large, with plenty of space for you to use your powers freely, and no one lives in or near it, which means that it is unlikely that someone will accidentally stumble upon you while you’re training. Plus, as we all know, spirits don’t actually exist. It is just an urban legend created by superstitious individuals who don’t understand science.”

  I frowned. “Says the advanced hologram which can grant me superpowers whenever I put on the costume you made.”

  TW crossed his arms. “I didn’t know you were so superstitious, Jack. Gregory thought you weren’t.”

  “I’m just joking,” I said, waving at TW dismissively. “Anyway, let me get dressed and have breakfast and we can head down there. Best not to train on an empty stomach, after all.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Warehouse 19 looked pretty much what I expected it to look like. It was a huge warehouse, easily twice the size of my house and about three times as wide as my school’s campus. It had probably looked really impressive in its heyday, but as I parked my bike in front of it and looked it up and down, I could tell that this warehouse had seen better days. Its exterior was rusted and dirty, while several of the windows near the top of the building that were busted out were so dirty that you probably couldn’t even shine a light through them. There was also a lot of crude graffiti on the walls, including one that said INJECTORZ WERE HERE.

  Warehouse 19 wasn’t alone, either. It was surrounded on all sides by other abandoned or rundown warehouses of varying sizes, with some smaller and others even bigger.

  Normally, I would have avoided this place completely. I didn’t even tell my parents where I was going. I just told Mom that I was going to hang out with Kyle for the day. Dad had already left for work by the time I left, so I didn’t need to tell him anything, but I still felt a little guilty about lying to Mom’s face. But then I reminded myself that this was necessary, because I didn’t want to tell her or anyone else in my family about my secret identity until I had my powers under control.

  As I climbed off my bike, the Trickshot Watch flashed again and TW appeared beside me, looking up at Warehouse 19 with mild interest.

  “This is it,” said TW. “What do you think about it?”

  “It looks like it’s going to fall apart any minute,” I said. I looked around. “Also, it’s really quiet around here. Like, really quiet.”

  “As I said, this part of town has been more or less abandoned for some time,” said TW. “Even so, I would suggest not being too loud or boisterous in your training.”

  “Because I don’t want to attract the attention of the evil fire spirits that will consume my soul if I disturb their naps,” I said. “Right?”

  TW rolled his eyes. “It’s for your safety. Because of the age and decay, Warehouse Nineteen is not as stable as it looks. If you hit it too hard, it might collapse.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said, giving TW the thumbs up. “I’m always careful with my environment. Just ask my parents.”

  TW looked at me as if he didn’t quite believe me. “Well, it’s good to see that you’re confident. Perhaps that will make it easier to teach you how to use your powers, assuming your confidence doesn’t become arrogance.”

  “Well, why do I need to do this training at all?” I said. “I’m not against practicing my powers, but look at how easily I defeated those Injectors yesterday. And that was my first time using my powers. I think I’m already pretty good at using them.”

  “Because you had my help,” said TW. “But the fact is that I’m not always going to be around to help you. Had I not been there, that fight likely would have ended very differently.”

  “Wait, you’re not?” I said. “Are you going to leave me? I thought you said you were built into the Watch.”

  TW scratched the back of his neck. “True, my AI does reside in the Watch, but that doesn’t make me immortal. You see, my AI is slowly fading away.”

  “Fading away?” I said. “How does that make sense? If you’re AI, doesn’t that basically make you immortal?”

  TW shook his head. “No.” He pointed at a broken down car sitting not far from us. “See that car and how it is decaying? All technology decays with time. Even the best, most advanced technology that is meticulously taken care of and given the appropriate repairs on a regular basis will eventually stop working or at least become less effective than it once was.”

  “So you’re decaying like that car?” I said.

  TW nodded. “Yes. I’ve been around for decades, and during much of that time, Gregory took good care of me, but my lifespan is nearly over. Gregory knows this, which is another reason he sent you the Watch.”

  I frowned. “How much longer do you have? Do you think you’re going to go away soon or—?”

  “I … cannot say,” said TW. “I may have as much as a year left, or as little as a month. It all depends on how much the rate of decay accelerates, which will happen if I am used too much.”

  I was about to say that I didn’t notice the decay, but then I noticed that the edges around TW’s form were slightly fuzzy. It was a very slight effect, which I probably wouldn’t have noticed under ordinary circumstances, but given what TW just told me, I realized that I was seeing his body decay right before my eyes.

  “But enough about my problems,” said TW. “Let’s
enter the warehouse. I suggest taking your bicycle inside in order to ensure that it is not seen or stolen by anyone who might be around here.”

  With that, TW disappeared back into the Watch. Grabbing my bike’s handlebar, I walked over to the entrance, pushed it open just enough for me to enter, and then went inside. As soon as I was inside, I closed the door behind me, leaned my bike against the wall, and turned around to see what the interior of the warehouse was like.

  As TW had said, Warehouse 19 was fairly wide open, with plenty of room for me to practice without fear of harming or hitting anything. It was dark, but growing lighter by the minute thanks to the light streaming in through the grimy, cracked windows above. An abandoned forklift stood in one corner, while at the very back of the warehouse was a staircase which seemed to lead up to the warehouse’s office. Old chains hung from the catwalks above, while a smell of dust and mold filled my nostrils. Just like the exterior, it was very quiet in here, though I heard a rat scurrying around somewhere nearby when I took a step forward. A tall, cracked mirror stood off to the side, covered in grit and dust.

  Without warning, TW reappeared by my side and turned to face me. “Now that we are here, it is time to begin your training. Open the Watch and put on your suit.”

  I held the Watch up and flipped open the face to reveal that same red button that had saved my life yesterday, though it seemed like a lifetime ago now. “This?”

  “Yes,” said TW, nodding. “You’ve pressed it before.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “But is that all I have to do? Just press the button?”

  “Correct,” said TW. “It really isn’t as complicated as it looks. You see, the Watch contains the Trickshot costume as a form of energy. When you press the button, the energy suit covers your body and then becomes actual fabric that conforms to your unique body shape.”

  “I figured as much,” I said. “All right, here goes nothing.”

  I pressed the button. Like yesterday, bright blue energy rolled down my arm and over my entire body. In less than a second, I stood in the Trickshot costume once again, standing before TW, who looked me up and down with an approving look on his face.

  “Excellent work,” said TW. “You look just like Gregory, except younger.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But I want to look at myself in the mirror first.”

  I walked over to the cracked mirror I’d noticed earlier and stood in front of it. Yep, there was no doubt about it: This was the same costume Grandfather wore in his superhero days. The TS emblazoned on the chest, the red and blue body suit, the goggles that obscured my eyes from everyone else but enhanced my own vision, and even the long red cape I always thought looked cool. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would become a superhero, but here I was, wearing the same costume that Grandfather had worn to take down countless criminals and supervillains over his 30 year long career.

  “This is so cool,” I said, flexing my muscles and striking poses in order to test the suit’s full range of motion. “It’s bulletproof, right?”

  “Right,” said TW, floating over to stand behind me. “Additionally, it is fireproof, waterproof, and can adapt to nearly any change in temperature. It is not, however, cut-proof, so I suggest avoiding enemies that use swords, knives, and other sharp weapons, or at least keep your distance from them. Oh, and I nearly forgot to add that the Watch itself can change its form when you’re not wearing your costume. That way, no one will know you’re Trickshot when you’re not wearing the costume.”

  I stopped posing and looked at TW, a frown on my face. “So I could get hit by a machine gun and I’d be okay, but if someone stabbed me with a butter knife, I’d get hurt?”

  TW shrugged. “The suit isn’t perfect. Frankly, I think you should just be happy it does everything else. Most superhero costumes cost an incredible amount of money for far fewer features than your suit has, while you got yours for free.”

  “You sound just like Grandfather, you know that?” I said.

  “I was his personal assistant for thirty years,” said TW. “I may have picked up on a few nuggets of wisdom from him in that time.”

  “Right,” I said. “Anyway, what else can the suit do? Is that it?”

  “More or less,” said TW. “Aside from the powers it gives you, of course.”

  “Powers,” I repeated. “Super strength, durability, and perfect aim, right? Those were the powers Grandfather had.”

  “Don’t forget flight,” TW said. “You can fly as well.”

  “I can?” I said. “Cool, let me try.”

  I jumped into the air as high as I could and then fell back down to the floor on my feet.

  “What?” I said, looking at my feet. “Why didn’t I fly?”

  “Because you will need to be taught how to do it,” said TW. “Remember why we’re here. You will learn how to do all of this in time.”

  I looked up at TW, feeling slightly disappointed. “But I don’t get it. When Grandfather passed the Superhero Exam, you said he got flight as his power when he was injected with Superpower. So how do I have the same power if that’s what Grandfather has?”

  “It’s another feature of the costume,” said TW. “It can actually copy whatever powers you have and make them part of the suit. That way, other people who wear the suit can use your same powers.”

  “You mean if I passed the Superhero Exam and got injected with Superpower, that it would copy whatever power I got as a result of that?” I said in surprise.

  TW nodded. “Correct. But you are not going to take the Superhero Exam, at least not yet, so I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

  I nodded to show understanding, but privately, I was wondering if there were a limit to how many superpowers the suit could copy. If every single superhero in the country—or even the world—wore this suit just once, then anyone who wore it afterward would become the most powerful superhero on the planet. Not that I thought that would ever happen, of course, but it was still fun—and a little scary—to think about.

  “Now, let us start your training,” said TW. “Come over to the center of the warehouse, where we will begin our first lesson.”

  TW and I walked over to the center of the warehouse, kicking up dust and dirt as we walked. I coughed a lot, while TW, of course, was completely unaffected, which made me a little jealous of him, but I didn’t say anything. We stopped in the very center of the warehouse and then stood facing each other like opponents about to wrestle.

  “All right,” I said, punching my fist into my open hand. “Let’s start the first lesson. Which power will I get to learn how to use first?”

  “Super strength,” said TW without delay. He pointed at the abandoned forklift. “Lift that forklift over your head once and then put it back down.”

  “That seems simple,” I said, “but okay. Watch and be amazed.”

  I walked over to the abandoned forklift. It wasn’t a very big forklift—I’d seen bigger ones at Dad’s construction sites—but it was definitely heavier than any normal human could hope to lift on their own. But with the Trickshot costume on, I wasn’t a normal human. I was a super human, a superhero to be more specific, and I could do things that most people only dreamed of.

  Stopping behind the forklift, I got a good, tight grip on its underside and then lifted with all my might. But no matter how hard I tried to lift it, it wouldn’t budge even one inch off the concrete floor of the warehouse. I struggled, grunting loudly under my breath the entire time, but the forklift stayed stubbornly where it was.

  “Having trouble?” said TW, hovering behind me like a ghost.

  I looked over my shoulder at him in annoyance. “Yeah. Why can’t I lift it? I remember using my super strength yesterday to send one of those Injectors flying. So why can’t I do the same to this stupid forklift?”

  “Because, like I said, I was helping you yesterday,” said TW. “You must put more focus into lifting the forklift before you can use your super strength. It’s not a
very difficult skill to learn, really, but it does require some effort to do.”

  “How do I focus?” I said. “Do I just close my eyes and try really, really hard or is there more to it than that?”

  “You’re not far off the mark,” said TW. He tapped the side of his head. “First, you must focus on activating your super strength. Force your super strength to manifest in your body. Tell the costume to fill your body with the strength to lift this forklift. Command it, the way a general commands his army. Don’t let any hesitation enter your mind, otherwise it won’t work.”

  “All right,” I said, standing up and dusting off my suit. “Let me try to command my costume to give me my super strength and see how that works.”

  I closed my eyes and focused as hard as I could on my costume. It was kind of awkward at first, because I felt like I wasn’t really doing anything initially except just standing there in the warehouse with my eyes closed.

  But then I felt the costume. I felt the way it covered my body and the powers that were at its command. I knew that those powers could be mine, but only if the costume would give them to me.

  So I said, in my mind, Give me my super strength. Give it to me now.

  No response from my costume.

  Frustrated, I opened my eyes and looked at TW. “It’s not listening.”

  “Try again,” said TW. “The costume doesn’t know you, so it isn’t inclined to listen to you the way it listened to Gregory yet. Just command it more forcefully. It responds to strength, not weakness.”

  “Strength, not weakness,” I repeated. “Okay, let me try again.”

  I closed my eyes and felt the costume again. Give me my super strength. I want it now, not later. I command that you give it to me.

  Again, no response. This time, I was sure that the costume heard me, but for some reason was just ignoring me. It was probably because it didn’t know me yet, like TW said, but I still felt frustrated at its obstinacy. It reminded me of a puppy that won’t listen to its owner, so I’d just have to be tougher.