First storm, p.5
First Storm, page 5
As Rubberman turned down another street, my phone started ringing. Startled, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that it was Frank. Answering the phone, I said, in a low voice so the Necromantress wouldn’t be able to hear, “Hi, Frank. What’s up?”
“Alex?” came Frank’s fearful and worried voice over the phone. “Where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said, glancing out the window as we zoomed down the streets of Golden City. “I’m with my boss right now.”
Frank sighed in relief. “Thank God! I saw on the news that your parents’ house got attacked by a Squire and it didn’t say if you and your family had survived or not. Are your parents and brother okay?”
“They are,” I said. “Right now, they’re staying at the community center. Where are you?”
“Still at home with my parents and sister,” said Frank. “Dad’s kind of a prepper, so right now we’re holed up in the basement with enough food, water, and ammunition to support a small army. What’s the situation like on the surface? Is it really as bad as the news makes it out to be? ‘Cause the news makes it look really bad.”
I glanced out the passenger window just as we zoomed past a grocery that people were attacking like wild animals. “It’s bad, but don’t worry. Rubberman and I know how to get rid of the barrier and are working on taking it down now.”
“Awesome!” said Frank. “That is the best news I’ve heard all morning. Are you gonna have to fight that Mirar guy or something?”
“Probably not,” I said, “but if necessary, yes.”
“Well, then be careful, okay, dude?” said Frank. “Never fought a Zero Knight before, but be careful anyway, okay? For you and your family.”
“I know, but you don’t need to worry about me,” I said. “The Zero Knights are more interested in me than my family, so if I stay on the move, they will have to keep following me and ignore my parents and James.”
“Hope you’re right, but how did they find out about your secret identity anyway?” said Frank. “I thought you kept it a secret.”
“That’s the thing,” I said. I lowered my voice even further to make sure the Necromantress—who was once again arguing with Rubberman about her comfort—couldn’t hear me. “The Squire sent to kill me didn’t know if I or my brother was Beams. They knew where I lived, but they apparently weren’t sure which one of us was Beams.”
“Now that’s weird,” said Frank. “If they know where you live, then why wouldn’t they know your real identity?”
“No clue,” I said. “I know the secret identities of sidekicks is a well-kept government secret, so it’s possible they couldn’t access the list directly and had to rely on indirect means to narrow down my location. Regardless, it’s not good.”
“You can say that again,” said Frank. “Anyway, I’m going to have to hang up soon. Dad is worried that the Zero Knights are using cell towers to locate people, so I’m going to have to hang up soon.”
“Got it,” I said as we turned a corner and the Harold Golden Bridge came into view, thankfully void of people due to being closed. “We just arrived at the Harold Golden Bridge. Talk to you later.”
“Okay,” said Frank, “but please be careful, all right? That Mirar guy looked serious and I don’t want you or your boss to get hurt or worse.”
“We’ll be fine, Frank,” I said. “You and your family should stay safe as well.”
I ended the call, but then my phone started ringing again and I noticed it was Mr. Peters, my science teacher. Although I was curious to know why he was calling me, I sent him to voice mail just as Rubberman brought the Rubbermobile to a stop at the base of the Harold Golden Bridge, bringing us almost underneath it. Now that we were here, I didn’t think I would have the time to talk to Mr. Peters. Besides, I doubted he had anything THAT important to talk to me about. He probably wanted to know what the hell was going on. And I would explain it later, assuming we all survived.
But looking at the Harold Golden Bridge and the way the green glow from the barrier above made it look almost sickly, I was starting to have my doubts.
CHAPTER SEVEN
All right, Shawna,” said Rubberman, looking over his shoulder at the Necromantress. “We’re here. Where is the Ritual? I don’t see it.”
Sitting in the Rubbermobile next to Rubberman, I didn’t see it, either. The Harold Golden Bridge spanned the Roger Gate River, connecting both halves of Golden City together. It was the biggest and most used bridge in the city, as well as the oldest. Right now, it was totally empty of people, mostly thanks to the police barricade we had passed earlier. I suspect the only reason we had been allowed to pass the barricade was because we were the city’s superheroes because the police certainly hadn’t looked like they were willing to let anyone else pass.
The Necromantress furrowed her brow. “The Necromantress is searching for its exact location. She is so close to it now that the Ritual appears to be everywhere at once. That is one of the issues with getting so close to a Ritual like this.”
“But you can locate it, right?” I said, trying not to sound too worried.”
“Of course the Necromantress can locate it,” the Necromantress snapped. She pointed suddenly. “And it is located right there.”
Rubberman and I looked in the direction that the Necromantress was pointing, but I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was pointing at the very center of the Roger Gate River itself. The water was flowing freely as usual, with no sign that there any sort of magical shenanigans were happening around here. I guess I expected to see some kind of magical glow or something, but it looked pretty ordinary to me, the green glow from the barrier in the sky above notwithstanding.
Rubberman looked at the Necromantress again. “Are you trying to pull a prank on us or something? Because there’s no way the Ritual can be out in the water there.”
“The Necromantress is pulling no prank on anyone,” the Necromantress insisted. She pointed again, this time more vigorously. “Her mana sense has pinpointed the Ritual’s location to the middle of the river. The Necromantress does not joke.”
“But …” my words trailed off as I looked out over the moving water. “How does that even work? Did Mirar put on a scuba diving suit and make the Ritual underwater? Is that even possible?”
“It is not possible to design a Ritual underwater,” said the Necromantress. “Especially under moving water. Therefore, the logical answer is that the Ritual must be under the river, that is, underground.”
“There’s nothing under the river, though,” Rubberman pointed out. “So unless you happen to have brought a huge drill with you, I’m not sure how we are supposed to get under there.”
“Why don’t we get out of the car and look around?” I said. “It might be easier to figure out how to get there if we are actually standing outside.”
The three of us exited the Rubbermobile and walked underneath the Bridge. We stopped at the edge of the lake, watching as the water flowed freely past us. Now that we were outside, I shivered at how cold it was, but the Necromantress—who had been given her witch costume back by the prison when we got her out—seemed unaffected by the cold. I suppose she probably enjoyed it on some level, given how cold of a witch she was.
“This doesn’t help,” said Rubberman, folding his arms in front of his chest as we looked out over the river. He looked up at the Bridge. “Maybe it’s on the underside of the Bridge?”
“It is clearly not,” said the Necromantress. She pointed at the water. “The Necromantress’ mana sense has pinpointed its location to under the river, not under the Bridge. Her mana sense is infallible and always trustworthy.”
“Maybe your mana sense is a malfunctioning a bit,” Rubberman said. “I mean, when was the last time you used it? I’m not a mage, but I’m sure magic is one of those things where you need to practice it every day to make sure it still works.”
While Rubberman and the Necromantress argued with each other about how magic worked and whether the Necromantress’ magic sense worked, I looked over the river, trying to figure out how we were supposed to get under it. I believed that the Necromantress was telling the truth about the Ritual being underneath the river, but like Rubberman, I had no idea how we’re supposed to get underneath it in the first place. Yet clearly, there had to be a way to get underneath the bottom of the river because Mirar had somehow managed to do it.
That made me look down at the river bank. The bank of the Roger Gate River was very muddy. It was also rarely traveled. There had once been a large homeless camp under here, but then the police cracked down on it a few years ago and forbid anyone from setting up a homeless camp under here again. I had no idea when Mirar might have set up the Ritual, but I suspected it must have been sometime within the last month. That was probably why we hadn’t heard from the Zero Knights since Slasher’s death. They were too busy setting up the barrier to attack us.
I walked closer to the concrete base of the Bridge itself, again paying little heed to the arguing Rubberman and Necromantress, neither of whom seemed to notice me walking away. I was looking at the mud, trying to see if I could spot any footprints that might have belonged to Mirar or one of his Squires. I even had an idea of what their footprints might look like, seeing as the Zero Knights all wore the same basic armor. Granted, Mirar’s armor looked totally different from Slasher’s, but they might have been wearing the same boots. The only issue was the possibility of the footprints being washed away by the rain, but I was assuming the Harold Golden Bridge would protect most of the footprints from the weather.
There. I found a strange, slightly clawed set of footprints heading away from the river toward the base of the Bridge. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the images we had taken from the Slasher case and found a picture of Slasher’s bloody footstep. I compared it to the footprints in the mud and found that it was a near-exact match.
So I looked over my shoulder and shouted, “Hey, guys! I think I found Mirar’s footprints.”
Rubberman and the Necromantress suddenly stopped arguing and looked over at me in confusion.
“What?” said Rubberman. “You found Mirar’s footprints?”
I nodded. “Yeah! Come over here and see for yourself. Looks like they lead away from the River.”
“Away from the River?” said the Necromantress as she and Rubberman walked over to me. “That makes no sense. The Ritual is located under the River. Why would Mirar walk away from it?”
“Beats me,” I said with a shrug. I gestured at the footprint on the ground. “All I know is that this footprint looks kind of like Slasher’s. As both Slasher and Mirar are Zero Knights, I think it’s equally safe to assume that they have the same kind of boot.”
Rubberman stooped low to look at it more closely. “You’re right. It does look like Slasher’s footprint. Good job. Let’s see where it leads.”
The three of us followed the dried, somewhat faded footprints up the river bank to the base of the Bridge itself. Oddly enough, the footprints stopped at the very base of the Bridge, right in front of thick growth that covered the concrete base.
“Why do the footprints end here?” I said, looking to the left and the right. “It looks like they literally disappeared. Can Mirar teleport now or something?”
“Unlikely, but you never know,” said Rubberman. He stroked his chin. “Still, this is a mystery. Why did he walk all the way up to here and then disappear?”
The Necromantress, however, put a hand on her head and squinted. “Wait … the Necromantress senses magic here. Powerful magic, at that. Perhaps—”
The Necromantress grabbed the thick green growth and ripped it away. To our surprise, there was a hidden concrete door, with a rusted door handle, built into the base of the Bridge itself. An old, rusted metal lock lay at the base of the door, which I assume must have been what kept the door locked, though I wasn’t sure who broke it.
“A hidden door?” I said. I looked at Rubberman. “Did you know there was a door here?”
Rubberman shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Nor have I ever heard of a secret hidden door built into the base of the Harold Golden Bridge.”
“Yet here it is, clear as day,” said the Necromantress, tossing aside the growth she had torn off from the door. “And the lock is broken, which means that someone has been here already.”
“Mirar?” I said tensely.
“Probably,” said Rubberman. “But first, let’s see what’s inside.”
Rubberman grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. The concrete door opened with little resistance, though the hinges squeaked terribly and were clearly in need of some oil. Regardless, when Rubberman opened the door, we all crowded around the door to see what was inside. A musky scent of earth and river water flowed out from within, which would have made me gag if my air filter wasn’t working, though both Rubberman and the Necromantress coughed due to not having any air filters themselves.
Beyond the doorway was an ancient rusted staircase that spiraled downward into absolute darkness. I reached inside and flipped a switch, causing a small light bulb hanging from the ceiling to flicker on. Even then, the light bulb barely illuminated the place. It certainly did not show how deeply the staircase went or what—or who—was down there in the first place. Above the staircase, painted in block capital letters, were the words ‘TUNNEL #1.’
“Tunnel Number One?” I repeated. “What does that mean?”
“I have no idea,” said Rubberman, scratching the top of his head. “It can’t be referring to the city’s sewer system, can it? Because I know the sewers aren’t called tunnels.”
“And if it’s Tunnel Number One, then that implies there are more tunnels, yes?” said the Necromantress.
“Yeah,” I said. “But that just raises even more questions, like what this place is, who built it, and why.”
“We don’t have time to ponder or research those questions,” said Rubberman. He pointed into the darkness below. “Shawna, do you sense any mana coming from down there?”
The Necromantress nodded. “Yes. The Ritual’s mana signature is incredibly strong. It’s almost overwhelming.”
“Then we’re on the right track,” said Rubberman. “Clearly, Mirar somehow found out about this secret tunnel, which probably extends underneath the Roger Gate River, and then placed one of the Rituals down here. Our task, therefore, is simple: Go down the stairs, find the Ritual, and destroy it.”
“You make it sound simple,” I said, again looking into the darkness, “but why do I have the feeling it won’t be?”
“Because nothing in this business is simple, Beams,” said Rubberman. “Now, let’s get going. Time’s a-wasting, after all.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The metal steps of the rusted staircase creaked and groaned with every step we took. The sound was even louder in the confined space of the staircase because the sounds echoed off the walls. If there was anyone in the tunnel below us, it was safe to assume they heard us coming, so the element of surprise was definitely not on our side. I wondered if it was too much to hope that anyone below might be deaf or hard-of-hearing, but our luck wasn’t that good.
It was also incredibly humid down here. Even in my costume, which was designed to regulate my body’s temperature to keep it level at all times, I could feel sweat starting to accumulate on my body. A glance behind me showed that both Rubberman and the Necromantress were already sweating bullets themselves. The Necromantress, in particular, was practically drenched in sweat, her long, dark hair clinging to her forehead like seaweed. Rubberman’s costume was made out of similar material to mine, so he looked a little better than the Necromantress, but not by much.
“The Necromantress despises humidity,” said the Necromantress, tugging at the collar of her shirt as we descended deeper and deeper into the depths of Tunnel #1. “It is her hair’s worst enemy. She hopes we do not spend too much time down here.”
“With luck, we won’t have to and your hair will be safe once again,” said Rubberman with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s just hope that the other two Rituals aren’t hidden in sweaty, humid tunnels like this, though now that I think about it, this makes an excellent defense system all by itself.”
“It’s because we’re so close to the river,” I said. I ran a finger along the barrister of the staircase and held it up to show a bit of water on my gloved finger. “See? There’s so much moisture in the air it’s like we’re underwater.”
“We might as well be with how much the Necromantress is sweating,” said the Necromantress. She grimaced and put her hand on her forehead. “It doesn’t help that the Necromantress is getting a headache the closer we get to the Ritual. Frankly, the Necromantress has never felt so much mana in one place before and isn’t sure how much more she will be able to take.”
“That’s why Beams is in front,” said Rubberman. “That way, if someone is waiting for us below, we’ll be prepared.”
That was true. Before heading into the tunnel, we had organized ourselves by having me in front, Rubberman in back, and the Necromantress in the middle. The logic was simple enough. With my helmet’s night vision and my laser beams, I was in a good position to notice and deal with any potential traps or ambushes below. I could also protect the Necromantress much easier because the brunt of any assault or ambush would be focused on me and not her. Rubberman was in the back, however, to make sure the Necromantress didn’t try to run off. Although the Necromantress may have said that she was not going to try to run away as long as the barrier stood, neither of us actually trusted her enough to believe she would keep her word.
