Chapter two is here, my friends! First off, let's have the shoutouts - Atchair, HungryInTheDarkForNachosLOL, HotPinkCoffee, sheepobsessed, kylexdamien and The Timeless Clock, thank you all for reviewing. Cookies all round! *Hands round cookies* I guess you can each have superhero capes too, seeing as this is a superhero fic. [I'm thinking of The Incredibles now xD]
Disclaimer: I don't think I'm Michael Grant. And if I was, would I be writing Fanfiction for my own book? (The answer is quite clearly yes, but shhh.)
Beta: Atchair. Ah, Atchair, you deranged child, you.
And a quick note: this is kind of parodying the superhero genre, if you haven't guessed. I love it, but it's so ridiculous xD. Why oh why, in a town filled with crime, would the local museum display some long-lost artifact of much value? Which is why, in my mind, it's completely acceptable for Albert to have a display like this in his house.
Let the chapter... commence!
All was quiet.
Caine Soren could have marched up to Albert's house playing a trumpet and no-one would have known; instead they were all off, paying tribute to that ridiculous trio of mishaps. However, Caine was nothing if not cautious; he'd spent weeks on planning the heist and wasn't going to mess everything up at the first opportunity he got.
Stealing from Albert was idiotic at best, particularly in broad daylight, but Caine was confident about his chances.
Caine jumped down from his watching point and slipped around to the back of the house. Albert's place was a large, white building with three stories – more than enough space for a boy who lived on his own. Caine had been keeping a watchful eye on the place for weeks, and he'd noted that everyday at twelve the maid-girl entered the house, cleaned, and left, leaving open the window on the second floor to air out Albert's large and thoroughly spotless room. The stupid girl might as well have left me the keys to the front door, Caine reflected nastily.
He raised his arms, palms up, and felt his feet leave the safety of the ground. He rose quickly, as if he was standing in an invisible lift. When he reached the open window, Caine allowed himself to hover in the air for a moment, enjoying the use of his power, as he pretended most days he did not have one. It was all part of keeping up with his appearance.
He climbed into Albert's bedroom with a smirk. He could already taste the sweet taste of success on his tongue, and it was almost as delicious at the taste of revenge. The room was old-fashioned, with a comfortable looking four-poster bed that Caine wished he could curl up on and sleep for days, an old closet that had been stashed into the corner of the room and an en-suite bathroom. Caine could smell the industrial bleach from where he was standing.
Caine was not materialistic. This robbery was more about kick-starting his career than anything. Getting noticed. And what better way to get noticed than to steal from the one who it was impossible to steal from?
Just as long as he did not get caught.
Caine exited the bedroom swiftly, took a right and descended down the staircase. More than anything, Albert had 'Bertos. And 'Bertos were made of melted down gold. After tonight, Albert was going to be significantly shaken, while Caine rocketed to fame and became richer by several gold bars.
It was that simple. All he would do would be to steal some stupid bars, making sure the security cameras saw who had done it, go home and either stash them or dispose of them, then take off his super villain mask and put on a very different kind of mask: Caine Soren, the kind, helpful, modest and yet powerful civilian. And no-one would be any the wiser. That was, as long as everything went according to plan.
He made his way slowly, hearing nothing but the gentle hum of the refrigerator and his own breathing. Nothing else moved. The tap dripped into the sink, making a plink noise that to Caine was louder than a herd of trumpeting elephants. He continued to slink deeper into the belly of the house.
He rounded a corner and – there!
A room that was empty of all furniture met his eyes. It was completely dark, with a podium in the middle which was lit up with several gaudy spotlights. And on top of that podium, glinting gleefully in the lights, was several fat bars of gold. Caine allowed himself a triumphant smile.
He began to walk forwards and paused. Albert, although undoubtedly foolish, was protective of his property, and would not leave it unguarded. Was it likely that the boy had gotten cocky and simply not bothered to put up security systems? Then again, Albert trusted that damned crime-fighting trio and believed they had stopped all villains in town.
Caine would have to chance it. He darted forwards, glad that the room was dark, cringing in anticipation of the alarm. It did not come.
He was close to the podium now, close enough to see his own reflection in the bars. With a feeling of untameable victory, he reached forwards, grabbed the cool metal in his hands and with practised movements, put it swiftly away and into the black bag he'd had the foresight to bring along. Still the alarm did not go off.
Caine turned to go, adrenaline pumping in his veins. His heart sped faster in delight.
"And where do you think you're going with my gold?"
Ah. So there was a problem. Caine stood, frozen on the spot. His heart, which seconds ago had been flying, sank and settled somewhere near his stomach. The voice did not belong to Albert; it was the voice of a girl, her tone mocking.
"Your gold?" repeated Caine, attempting to hold onto his bravado. "And how exactly did you figure that?" He made the mistake of turning around.
Despite the mask that obscured part of her face, Caine could see she was beautiful. Her luscious, mahogany hair was free to run down her back, and her eyes were large and dark. She was far more tempting than any amount of gold; in fact, Caine had half a mind to hand her the precious metal then and there. And what was more, she looked familiar.
"Diana?"
Diana's eyes widened in horror. "How do you – wait… Caine?"
"The one and only."
She swore loudly. "What are you doing here?"
"By the looks of it, the same thing as you."
She glared at him before looking at him up and down slowly in a way that made him feel oddly self-consious, trying to make sense of his costume. "And who exactly are you meant to be?"
"I," he said, puffing out his chest with pride, "Am Fearless Leader!"
Diana stared at him, trying to decide whether he was joking or not. When his expression remained serious, she started laughing. Caine's face fell magnificently. "Well who are you supposed to be?" he demanded.
"I'm the Reader."
"Since when have you been into books?"
Diana scowled. "Are you retarded? It's my power."
"Oh. Right."
They were interrupted by the long expected shriek of an alarm. Neither Caine nor Diana had done anything in the last couple of seconds to set it off, although that troubling thought occurred to neither of them.
"This way!" Caine shouted, grabbing her hand and pulling her along towards the marble stairs, which almost acted as beacon for the two criminals; it shone in the gloom. He planned to lead her back the way he had come; through the window and across the grass in the garden. Just as they were set to reach the first step, a noise made them both whip around without thinking. A figure materialised and blocked their path.
For one crazy second, Caine thought it was Albert or Fire Fist, which were stupid thoughts, as the boy standing in front of them had one arm. The other arm had been replaced by a – a snake. Or was it a whip?
Caine should have recognised that form straight away. "Hey, Drake," he said in a calm voice, as if he was caught doing this kind of thing daily.
Drake had stupidly walked into the house by forcing open the front door, setting off the alarm that had been lying in wait. Drake was not a boy of subtlety, and if he was going to do something as grand as this, then why not make a big performance out of it? He hasn't changed since Coates, Caine thought with a weary smile, before realising that that was also a very bad thing.
Drake was smiling his trademark shark-grin, teeth gleaming a death-white in the darkness. "It's not Drake anymore," he corrected, the twisted expression still on his face. Not changed a single bit since Coates, Caine mentally repeated. Who knew whether this would work to his advantage or not?
Diana looked him up and down. "So what do we call you? Other than moron?"
"I –"
"Tentacle Boy?" Diana interrupted, unable to resist sniping at her long-time enemy. "Or let me guess. Doctor Octopus."
"No!" Drake snarled angrily, but Diana cut him off before he could correct her.
"The Boy With The Skipping Rope Arm? What about Silly String? Or maybe something to do with your whip – Willow Smith?"
"I am Whip Hand!" Drake howled angrily. "And you will –"
"Later," hissed Caine. "We need to go!"
They could threaten and argue later.
The alarm began to scream even louder, persistently. Caine felt the first fluttering of panic, as if a butterfly's wings were brushing against his insides. Decision battered his calm front. What to do, what to do…
There was the screech of tyres, and Caine instantly knew who it was. The Perdido Beach trio had finally arrived. Unless he did something now, they were screwed.
Caine was running before he even realised what his sketchy plan was. He still had hold of Diana's hand, so she was pulled along after him, tripping slightly before getting into her stride. He could hear Drake's heavy rasping right next to him. He lifted up his hand, palm out in front of him just as the Perdido Beach trio rammed in through the door. The wall which Caine was running at exploded outwards, hit by a huge wave of telekinesis, and the three criminals dashed through it. Caine was deaf to the yells of Fire Fist, Fedora Guy and the Backhoe Boy, who had to escape as the house began to totter and fall in on itself, crumbling like a sandcastle or a house of cards; triumph was yelling in his head. His victorious war cry was echoed by Drake.
Out the corner of his eye, Caine saw a flash of blonde hair peep out from behind a perfectly kept tree and heard the click of a camera. Something in his head distantly connected, and he realised it was that pushy reporter, Astrid Ellison. And with her on the case, he realised with a hint of pride, he would be sure of getting noticed.
They ran on, never slowing the pace, knowing what would happen to them should they pause in indecision for even a second. They weren't being followed, so Caine led them towards his house, darting through side streets and over roofs when the need occurred. The streets were empty due to the panic Albert's raucous alarm had caused, which Caine had not been banking on, although it was an added bonus.
Eventually the three of them made it to Caine's house, which was more like a mansion. It was not quite as big and lavish as Albert's, but it oozed power and influence. The outside walls were of deep red brick, and the roof was black. Drake whistled appreciatively as they stepped inside.
It was plush and elaborately decorated, with wooden floors and high, arching ceilings. Caine smiled indulgently at their awe-filled expressions. "This is what you get when you work for the mayor. Howard's an idiot. He can't see how loyal, charming Caine Soren is using him. I've half turned him against Fire Fist and his friends. And he still thinks I'm his number one guy." Caine laughed and threw down his mask onto a side table. "What about you two? I've not seen you since Coates."
Coates was a secret. To those who weren't in the know, it was a school for academically gifted children who attended through invitation only. To those who went there and were informed of the truth, it was a secret society for kids with powers or abnormalities who were… bad. Evil villains in training. Most kids chose either to move to another town to cause mayhem or to just give up the whole super-villain thing altogether, but not Caine. He had been determined to be the ultimate villain in this town, Perdido Beach. It was his territory now.
The three of them had graduated a couple of months ago.
"I've been binding my time," said Drake mysteriously. "Finding out some things."
He did not say any more on the topic, instead picking up a letter opener and slashing it through the air, as deranged as usual. Caine made a mental note to discover what exactly Drake had been finding out – normally the psychopath just made up his plans as he went along, something Caine had seen all too often in the past. He didn't dare let his thoughts play out on his face, choosing to turn to Diana instead. "And yourself?"
"I was going to let it go. But…" she shrugged and avoided looking him in the eyes, obviously uncomfortable. Caine was going to push her but decided to let it go as well. He'd get all the answers he wanted in good time.
"Everyone's going to be on high alert after this. We're going to have change. You can stash your costumes in my closet for as long as you need to, okay? Drake, I have some clothes you can change into upstairs." Drake nodded his thanks. "Diana, I don't happen to have any girl's clothes in my house. And obviously with Fire Fist around you unfortunately can't wear your villain outfit, so I suppose you'll have to stay in your underwear. Sorry." He didn't bother attempting to add some sincerity into his voice, and even if he had the effort would have been wasted, as Diana gave him a glare that could murder. "If you're even wearing any," he added, trying not to smile. "If not then you'll just have to –"
"I'll see what I can find," she snapped.
Sam could not believe it. The three – well, whoever they were – had been running towards a wall one minute. The next, the boy in front had raised his palm and knocked down the wall with some sort of power. Madness.
"There were three of them," Quinn said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Three. And they managed to – I don't believe it. There were a lot of kids in the Human Crew, and there's loads of coyotes in the pack, but three new kids come along and do this much damage? We have a problem, brah."
"I wish we could have found out more about them," Edilio grumbled, running his hands through his hair. The three heroes were back at the fire station, changed into their normal clothes and once more assuming their identities as fire chiefs. They were sat around the circular wooden table, each with a can of Fanta in front of them, although none of them were remotely thirsty. They were all feeling too much disappointment, too much pressure.
As if answering Edilio's wish, a knock on the door interrupted them. The three boys looked around for any evidence of their alter-egos surreptitiously, and when they decided that they were safe, Quinn called out, "Come in!"
To no-one's pleasure it was Astrid Ellison, the reporter who always knew far more than was good for her. "Here," she said, sounding smug, and Sam accepted the newspaper from her. The headline screamed: "ALBERT'S ANGER: THE EVIL TRIO WHO RUINED EVERYTHING". Beneath was a picture of the three villains running away, faces gleeful at their narrow escape. Another picture below showed Albert's wrecked house. The line that popped out at Sam was "Fire Fist failure". He managed a smile, always pretending, always keeping up with the lie that had now become his truth. "Thanks, Astrid," he said weakly.
"It's Miss Ellison," she corrected, adjusting the numerous papers beneath her arms. "I'm giving them out to each house. Howard – Mayor Bassem – said that as fire chiefs, you three get to have the paper for free." She was obviously not happy with the thought, but even Astrid wouldn't cross Mayor Bassem directly. Well, not too many times, anyway.
"Wait – Astrid," called Edilio, looking up from the story. "Who are these people? Fearless Leader, the Reader and – does that say Silly String?"
"Albert had recording equipment in his house," Astrid answered impatiently. "Most of the audio was damaged in the crash, but from what we could hear, their names are Fearless Leader, the Reader and Silly String. They also mentioned books, gold and the word 'moron'. It's all in my report."
"Okay," said Edilio, riffling through to the page where the report continued on page three. "Thanks a lot."
Astrid turned back when she got to the doorway. "And Edilio?" she said coldly. "It's Miss Ellison."
Howard was the mayor. That meant when there were times of trouble people looked to him, and he knew what to do. He acted cool and confident, and people followed his lead. But there are exceptions to every rule, which was why Howard Bassem could be seen running down the street as fast as he could towards what was known as Soren Manor.
He knocked on the door and dithered on the pavement, waiting impatiently. Should he just barge in – it was definitely within his rights as mayor – or wait for Caine to answer? To Howard's relief, he didn't have to make a choice, because Caine opened the door at that moment. His hands moved from his belt buckle, and Howard wondered whether he'd only just got dressed. Caine, usually so well turned-out, was not wearing a shirt, and as Howard watched he quickly pulled one on. The mayor wondered if he'd just woken up, before remembering it was two o'clock in the afternoon. How odd. "We need to talk," Howard said, inviting himself into the house. He was distracted by the sight of a girl appearing at the top of the stairs. Her hair was messy, and she wearing one of Caine's blue shirts which reached her bare mid-thighs.
"You don't happen to have any –" she began before catching sight of Howard, who was looking pointedly between them. She and Caine simultaneously turned red. "It's not –"
"I wouldn't –"
"We don't –"
"She's a friend from Coates," blurted Caine quickly, the blush still evident on his face. "Diana, this is Howard – Mayor Bassem. Mayor Bassem, this is Diana Ladris."
Diana gave a pained smile before darting out of sight, hopefully to find some jeans or whatever. Howard kept his head down as he followed Caine into the living room and settled himself down on an expensive sofa. Howard declined any offers of refreshment and launched into his story about the three mysterious villains.
"So you're telling me that – what were their names? – Fearless Leader, the Reader and Silly String managed to break into Albert's house, steal his gold and get away unscathed? And on top of that, one of them has some kind of power." Caine chewed his lip, looking very concerned by the news. "I'm worried, Howard."
"Have you just heard about the whole thing now? Where've you been, Caine, man?"
I was… busy." Caine's eyes flickered to the other room, and Howard, remembering Diana, decided it was best not to ask.
"Well, as you can see… what do I do, Caine?" Howard moaned with wide eyes, giving up all pretence of knowing a solution. As much as he needed Orc with him, Caine was just as vital for Howard's leadership. He always helped Howard out, taking away some of the stress, and for that, Howard was grateful.
Caine pretended to think, enjoying the thrill of Howard asking him. "You know, Mayor? I think we should station more guards around anything Albert owns – his house, the McDonald's, the McClub – because these thugs seem to be making a point of attacking Albert. And just to be extra precautious, we should ask Captain Orc where he thinks will be in danger." Caine had to resist the urge to laugh. He would not be going after anything Albert owned again. He had a bigger prize in mind. And the thing about asking Orc to help was a joke – Orc, that brainless lummox, would have no idea.
"You're right!" cried Howard, jumping from his chair. "Thanks Caine. And maybe I could get Fire Fist and his crew –"
"No!" cried Caine, making the mayor jump. "No," he repeated more softly. "The Perdido Beach trio did a good attempt at fighting them, from what I've heard, but I'm sure the proper authorities with your backing could –"
"You're right," answered Howard, nodding. "Thank you, Caine. I owe you. It's good to know that I can always trust you."
Caine led him out of the house, shaking his hand and receiving the thanks as humbly as possible. When the door closed, he looked up at Diana and Drake, who were hovering at the top of the stairs like a pair of hungry hyenas.
"Y'know," Caine said conversationally, beckoning the two down and handing them fruit cocktails. The three clinked glasses as Caine finished, "This could be the start of a beautiful partnership."
Chapter two is done! I half keep expecting Astrid to snap "It's Miss Ellison" every time I type her name.
Chapter three is coming soon - but in the mean time, don't leave me lonely and unloved! Pwease leave me a review, love it or hate it, and I'll give ya a shoutout and a cookie. WHO COULD RESISIT?