I know the city has turned its back on me, but it’s still devastating when I see my face on a billboard with the words, “Why are we trusting the Blue Bullet with our lives?”
Bitterness stabs my heart as I fly by. The cloud of dust below leads me to my destination: a collapsed building.
What would they do if I stopped showing up?
It’s the same every night.
I wake up in a house not my own, in a dark bedroom, and through a doorway, I hear the sound of someone screaming.
Then there’s always silence.
The first couple of nights I chalked it up to a recurring nightmare of some kind, especially because once I closed my eyes,
“Here’s your pay, kid.” The foreman of the road crew dropped a few crumpled bills into Karl’s hand. “Now scram.”
“Come on, man.” Karl moaned. “What does it even matter? I’m sixteen. So what? I can scoop up dead raccoons better than anybody else on your crew.”
Magic samurai armor made everything cooler.
Grocery shopping became an epic battle between the forces of good and asparagus.
Restaurant dining became a chance to eavesdrop on fans of San Francisco’s samurai superheroes.
Going to school was… going to school. Not even armor could change that.
By Cadi Murphy Eamon tightened his jaw, pressing the tips of his fangs against his bottom lip. His specs slipped down the bridge of his nose. He hurriedly shoved them back so he could watch the werewolf boy swaggering toward him between the dusty library bookshelves. This was the leader of the largest student gang,
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The first rule for surviving as a superhero? Optimism.
I leapt from one rooftop to the next, using my jet boots to cover the distance. I did my best to land lightly, not wanting to disturb whoever might sleep beneath me.
But that’s kind of hard when chasing a supervillain.
Light burst across the room, exploding in a shower of sparks.
Chaimon lowered his pen and glanced up from the treaty spread across his desk. Ah, he’s back.
When the sparks faded, a familiar figure materialized. Dressed in a black coat and matching fedora, his outfit looked out of place in the castle’s study where Chaimon’s sword collection covered the stone walls. Then again, a time traveler couldn’t help obscurity.
“This is completely your fault.” Captain Quinn paced up and down the cramped dungeon cell, glowering at his android co-pilot.
INFO’s internal servos whirred as she tilted her head. “I do not see my error. I merely informed the men that the sorceress they worship is most likely not a deity, but—”
The bale of alfalfa hovered in the air, held together by three strands of twine that pulsed to a rhythm only Farmer Ben could hear. Anxious cattle swarmed beneath it. At a mental command from Ben, the twine snapped. The bale crashed to the ground where a horde of bovine maws devoured it.
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I dive from the rooftop just before a second blast sends another explosion of bricks bursting from the building’s exterior.
Above me, Captain Tremendous shouts, “Kid, get out of there. Now.”
No need to tell me twice. I leap from the fire escape to the balcony to the rooftop to a higher rooftop where my mentor stands waiting, his red cape flowing in the night breeze. The initials “CT” shimmer across his chest. At his feet, my assailant is already tied up in CT’s signature coils. Boy, he’s fast.
“You knew this day would come. Why did you insist we stay?”
Wilson pretended to load his gun. He had far more potent weapons at his disposal, but he needed the excuse to avoid Maria’s accusing gaze.
Outside, hideous shadows danced on the window, the first visible evidence of the approaching mob. Glass shattered. Screams.
Tommy hopped down the basement steps, cupping Cotton’s fluffy brown and white body tightly in his hand. The hamster squeaked like he was saying “Oof,” with each step. The Christmas music Tommy’s mom played faded away as he descended. Seven days till Christmas
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