Better to Die a Hero (11 page)

I am an animal, he screamed in his head.

Steve sprang up high, spun in mid air like an excited house cat, then draped himself over the ledge. Two adults and a kid poured out of the car and searched upward in his direction. The young person let out a jolly “Hi” and waved an arm. Steve gave a friendly wave back, spun on the balls of his feet and bolted in the opposite direction.

This was going to be big news. If this fantasy was to be over in a month, he was going to have some fun with it. All three of them would have to do some high profile runs together. He and Bryan could scout a few locations in Manhattan and hit them as a group during the daylight—maybe during rush hour. They would have to plan the route carefully though. A series of broken streetlights or shattered windows would be bad publicity.

Steve ran full out and jumped the most expansive alley way yet, barely making it to the next building in a tuck and roll landing. The tar roof pressed his back, as developing muscles absorbed the impact, the momentum pushing him to his feet. Racing to the end of the block, only pedestrians in sight, he leapt outward falling several stories to the center of a vacant intersection, another safe and solid landing. He sprang upward and soared two stories high to the top of a neon restaurant sign that stuck out perpendicular to the building façade. He slammed the top of the sign flat footed and colorful sparks erupted from both sides, showering the sidewalk below. The neon flickered and turned dark.

“Son of a bitch!”

Another jump and summersault carried him to the roof. He needed to change his strategy. Disconcerted, he decided to run six blocks along the length of the buildings then turn back, keeping to the rooftops. He wanted nothing more than to minimize the impact of his run. Destruction of city and personal property is not what they were about. Plus, if he wished to land lucrative endorsements at the end of this fantasy, it wouldn’t help to have a load of vandalism charges levied against him.

Steve slowed pace; he was in no hurry to get back to the building Bryan was christening. He took his time and practiced somersaulting over the air-conditioning units in his path. He guessed up to twenty people witnessed his superhuman feats, so turning back was no longer an option. This would be a strange way to find fame, but a profitable one, he hoped. His trip back, filled with the rehearsals of appearances on the late night talk shows, was pleasant. For the sake of his and Bryan’s friendship, he vowed not to be the one that got them caught. It would be up to his lanky friend to make the mistakes, but with Bryan doing things like going full costumed into a store without a mask, getting caught wouldn’t be a problem. He came full circle and the daydreamer hoped Bryan had finished his business.

“Hey, buddy. How do you feel?” Steve asked, walking out of the shadows.

“A lot better,” Bryan said, slapping his belly. “Take a look at the water.” Bryan pointed to the plastic jug.

Steve picked up the empty container. “Very good, you have to start eating like an athlete now.”

Bryan blew a raspberry.

“Where’s your cape?”

“Back there.” Bryan pointed. “I had to wipe my ass with something. Could you go get it for me?”

“Not a chance poopy pants. Do you really feel okay? Can you run back to the car?”

“Oh yeah,” he replied. “Honest, I feel good, especially after drinking that water.”

“Well, I’m actually a little tired,” Steve said, “mind if we walk some of the way back?”

Bryan face lit up. “Sure, we can do that.”

Steve enjoyed the crisp spring air as they walked in silence. He exhaled hard and watched his breath flow out the small holes of the ski mask. “I think Nora has the right idea with the face paint,” he said, “these masks are okay for short periods of time, but not for hours.”

“My scalp itches so much, I could scream.” Bryan ripped the cap from his head and furiously scratched his matted hair.

“Don’t even put the cap back on,” Steve suggested. “Just wear your ski mask and goggles. They hide your identity well enough.”

“I think I’ll try that.”

“Since you plan on being a hero for the rest of your life, I’m guessing that you’re going to have a secret identity.”

“I have to,” Bryan replied, stuffing the cap down the front of his boxers. “If my identity were ever to become public my family would be at risk. And my abilities to carry out my duties would be compromised.” He strapped on the goggles then arranged the cap in is pants to create the biggest bulge possible.

“Do you plan to be Ectoman your whole crime fighting career?”

“No this is just a working costume and title. I plan to come up with something much better.”

Steve sighed in relief. He didn’t know if Bryan could unlock the secrets of the powder and live a life enriched with superhuman abilities, but at least his friend was taking the naming process more seriously. “Got any ideas on what you’ll call yourself?”

“Not yet, but it will come to me. And when it does you can bet it will be extremely funny.”

“Oh man.” Steve shook his head. “I thought you were finally going for something cool or macho.”

“No way, comedy will give me an edge over the villains. They won’t take me seriously and that will be their undoing.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” Bryan’s humor had certainly proven useful in gaming and school.

They reached the end of a block and surveyed the street and alley for movement like they had done several times before.

“Don’t tell me we may actually have some action here,” Bryan said.

As they spied from the building top, a man and a woman walked into the alley. A few lit windows made this alley less ominous than most they had crossed this night.

“I don’t think he intends on hurting her,” Steve said as the man opened his wallet and handed money to the woman.

“Oh shit,” Bryan said, as the man’s pants dropped and the woman squatted down in front of him. “I can’t believe we’re seeing this.”

“This isn’t right,” Steve whispered. “We should go.”

“What if this guy is a serial killer and tries to slice and dice her after they’re done. Wouldn’t you feel bad if you left?” Bryan took his aviator cap out of his pants and placed it back on. “Watch this.”

Bryan vanished from place and descended straight for the pair. He landed loudly a mere foot from the two. The man’s shriek exploded into the night. A scream so fraught with agony, Steve nearly bent over from a sympathy pain that shot up from his own groin to the pit of his stomach.

Bryan’s upward leap was a blur to the normal eye. Bouncing from wall to wall like a pinball, he then landed on the roof opposite Steve. Horror-struck, neither boy looked back as they ran full out to the car parked several miles away.

*          *          *

New York Journal:

“Hello, I’m Michelle O’Donnell and welcome to tonight’s edition of New York Journal. Tonight’s top story is a doozy. They’ve been in the comic books for years. They’ve entertained your kids on Saturday mornings and their box-office receipts gross in the billions.”

“What are we talking about? Superheroes. And Now New York may just have the real thing. Several eyewitness accounts from the Bronx have been coming in claiming the sighting of real live superheroes. These eyewitness accounts number at thirteen to date and have one and sometimes two individuals jumping around the Bronx in costume, one even wearing a cape. Now you’ve been hearing these accounts for the past couple of days, but New York Journal has obtained exclusive footage you won’t see any place else. In this footage, you will see two individuals fitting the descriptions in the eyewitness accounts and you won’t believe what they’re doing. Let’s roll that tape.” ————

“What you are witnessing appears to be two males making superhuman jumps along a rooftop and then an amazing three story fall to the street. However, looks can be deceiving. Here to explain what we’re really seeing is our own computer graphics expert Mike Reed. Mike, can you explain why we may not be seeing what we think we see.”

“Sure Michelle. As you saw, the video was being shot from across the street from a window that was exactly one story lower than the building these so-called super individuals were on. Footage at this upward angle shows the two subjects being propelled upward in the air, not jumping of their own accord. I suspect there are mini trampolines or other vaulting devises setting out of view on that adjacent roof. Because of the filming angle, these devices are kept well out of sight. At this point no video manipulation is needed.”

“I see, and Mike how about the fall from the top of the building to the street below? It looked plenty real to me.”

“Well Michelle, this supposed jump down is interesting. We’ve had a panel of experts review this jump footage and what they found is, about one third of the way down both bodies actually begin to slow their descent. As any physics major will tell you, falling objects gain speed as they fall, until that object reaches terminal velocity. The object stays at that speed until it hits ground. But the two individuals slow down. What we are seeing here is a system of harnesses, steel cables and winches. These high tech winches are calibrated to slow the jumper’s descent when a certain length of cable is released. Basically, it puts on the brakes. The cables are then digitally removed from the footage. It used to be that only studios could afford to do this kind of manipulation, but now days the computer equipment to do this kind of digital editing is inexpensive. Our experts say the individuals do hit the ground hard, even though a slowing in descent is taking place. The reason they can walk away without broken ankles can be explained by what we call an exoskeleton.”

“And what is an exoskeleton?”

“In this instance it’s basically a system of braces that fit on the exterior of the legs designed to absorb the impact of the landing.”

“Thanks Mike. Well, there you have it. Before we go to commercial break this is Michelle O’Donnell and New York Journal reminding you that some things are not as they appear.”