“Why are you soaking wet?”
Scamper reeled back from his best friend, HearSay, to avoid the shower as the awkward, towering droid dripped water from the ragged trench coat draped on his thin frame. HearSay brandished three glimmering fish impaled on his makeshift spear for Scamper
A job for Icebird, on Dad’s birthday. How ironic is that?
One year ago, Houston Haas had taken up the mantle of Icebird from his late father, complete with costume, jetpack, and freeze ray, but in a wholly different direction. His father, Jerry, had used his inventions to help criminals commit robberies for a cut of the loot.
Amy steeled herself at the base of the wall, tucked just out of sight at the perfect sniping point. Below her, a labyrinth of platforms and staircases sprawled outward in a confusing maze.
If only she had ammo.
She swallowed hard and scanned for movement. Above her, the strip of neon yellow lining the ceiling pulsed,
The metal hallways flash red as my team and I dash toward the control room. Security alerts reverberate through the corridors, muffling the sounds of our footsteps.
“Attention,” a voice blares. “Intruders detected in Hallway B3. Deploying security measures. Attention. Intruders detected in hallway B3…”
I grin. “They’re onto us, boys.”
Pearlescent light envelops me when I slide from the vent and brush the dust from my tattered dress. A groan parts my lips as my spine uncurls, limbs stretching. I glance around, anxious that I have given myself away. But the airship’s Grand Hall is empty, silent.
Trying to ignore the tempting shape at the end of the room,
I staggered into the kitchen, pulling on the white-grey shirt of my superhero suit and accidentally jamming my toe against a chair. “Ouch!”
Behold, the mighty hero Shields, sans coffee.
With the shirt on properly—never mind, it’s on backward—I jabbed a button on the coffee maker. Gurgle, gurgle.
My stroll down the block came to a halt as I caught the sign in my periphery. TIMELESS: Antiques & Vintage Goods. I could practically feel the time portal pulse with hope, though I’d shoved the former deep within my bag and the latter deep within my soul.
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“Wake up!” a man barks through a respirator mask as he raps his baton across the window my head rests against.
I stretch open my drugged eyelids and meet an unrecognizable world. I’m waking up to falling ash and a crimson sky.
“It’s the
Zoot pulled the brim of his pilfered bucket hat down to hide his scaled skin and amphibious features. The overcoat he’d procured hid his olive-green flight suit. Thankfully, the black tentacles running down the back of his head imitated the hair of the native creatures, but his disguise was hardly complete.
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“I’ve got it!” Marc waved off the left fielder and pursued the fly ball.
But his synthetic body, like his physical one in years past, had its weaknesses. As the baseball’s path took it past the sun, Marc’s eyelids closed to keep his vision sensors from burning out, and he lost track of it.
“Mister, um…” Brushing a stray brunette lock from my eyes, I squint at the top section of the form on my clipboard. “I hope I’m pronouncing this right. Is it Uberloorde?”
Bare scalp glistening under the fluorescents of my cramped office, he adjusts
I peered down the prison ward’s empty hallway—shiny and sterilized like everything else in the Domand Empire. “All right, I’m here.” My whisper echoed off the metal walls. “Which cell is Colton’s?”
Alexander’s tinny voice crackled in my earpiece. “B-5.”
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