CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

A Couple Weeks Ago

"Jason."

"Jason, you're okay."

Jack and Dr. Randolph tried to console the poor kid after losing his grandfather. After all, he had no other family. His parents were still over in China. When he was only a couple of months old he was sent to the States with his Grandfather for a chance at a new life, a better life. Now, at age fifteen his Grandfather was dead, and poor Jason was alone.

Jack stood over the kid. He knew what had to be done. Jack would look after him like his own. And one day get him back to his family in China.

Dr. Randolph would later put in papers to legally adopt Jason. But for now, Jack took him back to the dojo, one last time, to collect all his stuff and take care of Sensei's remaining affairs. Jack walked slowly through the dojo. He put his bare feet on the mat and stared at the mirrored wall. It felt hollow in here without the Sensei. Dark and dry, the atmosphere was. Jack wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. That is when he saw it. A chest before the wall of weapons and gear that was never there before. It stood out from the wall, clearly placed there to be noticed.

Could it be? Did Sensei predict his own demise?

Jason was inside his room packing all his belongings and clothes. Jack approached the giant chest. It unlatched easily and so he opened its lid. Inside, were stacks of scrolls, rolled together with gold binding. He took them out along with a black katana blade. The katana had a golden emblem on its handle, just like the one from the Triad's High Dragon Leader. Except this one was not of a dragon, but a tidal wave washing over the Great Wall of China.

The scrolls were almost too many to carry, let alone read right there on the spot. Jack grabbed a gym bag from the floor and placed the scrolls and blade inside, along with some of the weapons and gear on the wall, when Jason walked out of his room. He stopped and watched Jack finish packing the bag next to the opened chest.

"What's that?"

"It appears as though your Grandfather left us his last will and testament. We shall go over it together when we get back to the apartment."

But Jack and Jason would be caught by Dr. Randolph on their way back. Clouds gathered above them. The temperature dropped a couple of degrees. Jack asked Randolph what was wrong. It was clear after Dr. Randolph brought them around the corner, what was going on. The corner market was up in flames. The store was located at the bottom of a tenement house, but next to it was a sixty story skyscraper that was beginning to catch fire.

"Jack, you have to help them."

Jack looked at the Doc, as a fire engine came roaring down the block. "That's what fire fighters are paid to do." The clouds dropped and the pressure in the air grew thin. "Besides," Jack continued, "it's about to rain anyways."

Just then, the sky opened up and thunder blasted the sky. Rain poured heavy on the city, but that did not stop the fire from reaching the skyscraper. The fire had found new food, food that burned quicker. On the street, people screamed and ran away from the fire as the firefighters ran in.

"MY SON!" yelled a guy in the smothering rain, standing next to them.

Jack watched Jason's heart break. It was written all over his face. Still, for him, the burden of losing his grandfather was all too much to bear. It was too soon. And Jason's mind was directly tapping into the father's fever to save his son.

Randolph said what Jack was already thinking when the last firefighter ran into the burning building. "If he can't do something, you must."

Jack's temper flickered. This was not his fight. He is a crime fighter, not a hero. The men rushing into that inferno without any superhuman healing abilities are the real heroes. If he could give his power to them he would. Deep down he knew he did not deserve it. Maybe Randolph was right. What if its Jack’s responsibility to intervene because the power chose him? He could no longer afford to be so short-sighted. The luxury of self-absorbtion was all used up. For so long, Jack has really only cared about himself. It was true. There was no sense in denying any longer. How he treated his wife, his family, his fellow soldiers overseas, it was always to perpuate a purpose, a future need he might require, it was never pure altruism. Jack was inherently selfish.

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That ended today.

He teleported away and was back in a couple of seconds, now in full DarkFlood gear.

Before disappearing into the shadows of the storm, Jack made one last remark, "If I'm gonna do this... I'm gonna do it right." And DarkFlood entered the fiery wreckage of the crumbling building. Dr. Randolph smirked as he consoled the father.

"Relax, my friend, your son is in good hands. What is your name?"

"I am Lazarus."

"That is a loaded name."

"I don't understand what you mean?" the foreigner said. He looked like he was from the Middle East. Perhaps Israeli with that name.

"I drive a cab. Me and my son live on the twenty-first floor."

Dr. Randolph wished there was a way for DarkFlood to hae heard that. Instead, the caped crime fighter tumbled through the residential floors of the burning building. It was cleared out for the most part. After climbing as far up as where the firefighter's were, DarkFlood jumped ahead to the highest floors and searched for trapped people. When he found someone, Jack would sneak up on them and teleport them to safety, never revealing himself.

Jack teleported down yet another floor after clearing the one he was on. According to his count, he was down to the twenty first floor. He swept the first couple of apartments, and they were empty. When he entered apartment 2121, the fire blew a hole through the wall, knocking Jack off kilter. He crawled under the cinder and drywall burning to ashes on top of him. Lightning carved the horizon outside the broken window.

DarkFlood climbed around the fire as it went through the remaining rooms. He kicked the bathroom door in and found a kid hiding in a bathtub full of water. He could not have been older than five or six. Smart kid. DarkFlood stood before him, frozen, watching above his head as the ceiling caved in.

The fire breached the roof of the bathroom, and it came hurdling down towards the kid and DarkFlood.

Dr. Randolph watched on with other passers-by.

"What is going on here?" asked an approaching man with an apron on.

"Just whut we needed...another Muhammad." scoffed a dark, southern stranger, chewing on a lit cigarette.

"I am not Islamic, I am Haitian-American, and my name is Moses. I own the store across the street."

Dr. Randolph's ears twitched upon hearing yet another odd name.

"Who asked?"

"His boy is trapped in the fire and none of the firefighters can seem to get to him." put Jason blatantly.

Dr. Randolph nudged him out of anger as Lazarus sunk his head in utter despair. He tried once again to run into the building. It took Dr. Randolph, Jason, the Haitian deli clerk, the racist southerner, and two others to hold him back.

In a tussle to the ground, the Haitian and the Southerner ended up fighting each other as Randolph pinned down Lazarus.

"Get off me!" screamed the Haitian as he pushed the hick off and got back to his feet.

The southerner patted the dirt off his vest and pointed his finger at the Haitian, "Touch me again, and I’ll kill ya."

The rain stopped just as quickly as it started and the clouds part. And there, in the gleaming sunlight of the thunderstorm's afterglow, came an event that would forever go down in history, as the Genesis of the Super Hero.

The Haitian and the redneck ran back at each other, but right before they collide, DarkFlood appeared holding Lazarus' son in his arms.

They all stopped to behold the sight of a caped and masked stranger appearing out of thin air. He stood with the boy’s body laying limp in his arms before the emerging sunlight. He laid the boy down on the floor and let his father tend to him. The rest awed at DarkFlood. Some took their cellphones out to get pictures. Some even were able to record DarkFlood on video. Not many before he disappeared once again.

Back into the blazing inferno.

Dr. Randolph and Lazarus tried to get his son to breathe. Nothing seemed to be working. Dr. Randolph screamed for Jack. DarkFlood reappeared above them and kneeled down before the boy. He held him with both hands and closed his eyes. The shock and the burns and the smothered lungs were absorbed by Jack, he bled under his suit. His disguise hid it well. The boy woke up and DarkFlood immediately vanished again.

Later, when the coast was clear. Jack reappeared in the alley and took off his DarkFlood gear. The southerner walked out of the shadow and flicked his cigarette into a puddle. The rain had stopped. "Got ya."

Jack looked up, startled.

"Don't run. I just want to talk."

Jack decided to hear him out and not teleport away.

"My name is Turner Sans and I have a very unique set of skills. I can help you. I'm sorry, I didn't catch yur name."

"DarkFlood."