“One sec, forgot to put the notebook back in its dock.” Harvey ducked into the cab, dropping the ruggedized laptop into its swinging arm mount, a police mount for a computer often used by the police. “Damned thing is dead as a doornail.”

The mood in the RV, or “Mobile Command Center” as they sometimes called it, was grim. Everyone was eating a large freezer meal, eggs, bacon, potatoes and biscuits for Carroll and Harvey, dinosaur nuggets for Johnny. The childish comfort food was intended to help if they rescued a kid at some point but Johnny went straight to it when he saw the selection. One, in fact, had proven insufficient and he was working on his second.

Morning, it felt, had come too soon, the RV bunks were like tiny prisons for three men who didn’t want to face the day. Harvey was first, self-motivated social climber that he was, then Carroll and, between the two of them, they dragged the limp form of Johnny out of the top bunk. It had been a ridiculous scene; two smaller men struggling to put an invulnerable superman on the floor without hurting themselves.

But breakfast was almost done. “Harvey? Tell me again … how we gonna get our licenses? Just … go to the cops? That how it works?”

Harvey took a deep breath before answering, perhaps chewing his last bite of bacon to excess as he composed his thoughts. “That’s about the size. I gave Officer Logan the number of my guy in the NYPD, he gives his account of the apprehension which will state that the B.O.G. was subdued before the Scion ever arrived. He didn’t see the fight so he’s limited in what he can say, but that should be more than enough. I mean … the guy has about a thirty-year criminal career and no arrests. The record will show that we did what nobody else ever could.”

All was silent again for a moment as Johnny double-fisted his nuggets. Carroll grunted, thumping his fist on the fold-out dinner table. “What the hell is wrong with the Solar Scion!?”

Beat. Harvey looked back and forth between his friends. “Oh, that’s a serious question? Hell, man, I don’t know. Sure as hell you never see him losing his shit on the local news.”

“That’s all I ever saw.” said Johnny. “He hates me. He’s supposed to be the biggest hero ever and he hates me. Guess I’m glad I didn’t have to fight him again. Still don’t know what I did…

“Alzheimer’s. Has to be.” blurted out Carroll with a sneer. “Demented old bastard…”

All at once everyone in the RV stopped breathing, they exchanged looks, then laughed uproariously. “Holy shit, Care, I think that’s the most offensive thing you’ve ever said!” said Harvey.

“He is old, isn’t he!?” shouted Johnny, quite accidentally losing control of his volume.

“It’s true though! He’s probably got ten years on my great-grandfather! They say he was in his twenties during World War Two!” Carroll was on a roll.

“Hey, fuck that guy, right? He can’t keep us out of the Nine. We’ll just keep on doing what we’re doing. We’re young, we can outlast him! He’ll retire and we’ll still be going strong. And … and…” Harvey trailed off.

Carroll was the first to say out loud what they all knew. “But he’s immortal, right? He could be there our whole lives. Longer.”

“Actually I don’t think I’m getting older … either…” added Johnny before falling silent. Popping his last few tater tots he gave himself an excuse not to say any more.

“Okay, okay, enough of this. There’s no reason to be down on ourselves. The Scion is the one with the problem, not us. Let’s just get on the road already, hit the station, they’ll need time to process the licenses anyway…”

“Uh … would it be cool if I flew back?” asked Johnny, averting his eyes.

Carroll and Harvey looked at each other. “Sure, big man. Sick of the RV already?” asked Harvey.

“I … no, not really. I just thought I should check back with the guys at Sierra House. Y’know … check on them?”

Carroll knitted his brow, concerned. “Is that all? Just … to check in?”

Johnny sighed. “I dunno. I know I was gonna, like, live with you guys here in the house car but… But that Scion guy sucked, y’know? And they got people I can talk to back at Sierra.”

“Y’know, Johnny, I did a lot of counseling at Sierra House. Sure you can’t talk to me about it?” Silence hung in the air for far too long. “Unless … I’m part of it…”

“No. I … no.” Johnny searched for the words. “He sucked for both of us, y’know? I kinda wanted someone who didn’t deal with him. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah. I … I guess. But they can’t know about the hero stuff, Johnny.”

“I know. I’ll just … say I did a good job, helped some people and got yelled at for it. It’ll be cool.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna get the engine going kids. Anybody wanting to catch a different ride is gonna want to do that now.” Harvey said, getting up and heading to the cab of the RV.

“Harvey … ah, shit.”

“It’s cool, Carroll. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Johnny, please do. Just use the earpiece, we’ll come get you.”

With a sad smile and a nod Johnny opened the door to the RV and flew straight out right as the engine started.

“Fucking … hell…” Harvey set his jaw, working his tongue around tensely as he scowled, temper clearly flaring up.

Carroll slipped into the passenger seat, witnessing his partner, clearly near to blowing up. “So … you’re not handling this well. Why don’t you just let it out?” He smiled slightly, moving as if to cover his ears.

Harvey refused to let this break his, in his mind, well-deserved anger. “No point. This was a win, Care, but not if our heavy takes off first time someone looks at him crosseyed.”

“Not someone; the mold from which the rest of us are cut, Harv.”

Kicking the RV into gear Harvey got her going, shaking his head. “We just went from saying ‘fuck him’ to now Johnny needs therapy? He just spent how long in therapy, huh? Basically from the Turnpike incident in, what, nineteen-eighty-nine? From then until we found him?”

“If it was anybody else Johnny probably would’ve stood his ground, man, I don’t know. You can’t tell me what he said didn’t hit you too.”

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Harvey Weir, normal human “superhero” calling himself the Bouncer, shook his head violently. “Of course it did! It’s like being called trash by the fucking President! One you voted for! One you believed in! There he is, there you are, all ready to accept the medal you earned for risking your fucking life, selflessly, and instead it’s a slap to the face…”

Carroll reached up, binding his man bun with a hair tie. The hair had moved of its own volition but wouldn’t look right without the accessory to complete the look. Searching for words, knowing there was more, he came up short and instead remained silent.

So it was Harvey that started talking again, a little bit calmer now. “So … do you think you’re aging?”

Carroll flinched. “What? Why do you ask that?”

“It’s well-known, Care, supers don’t age. After Scion threatened the Big O.G. with jail time that would test the longevity they have, when you and Johnny were asleep, I got on the internet, looked up old pictures of what he looked like. First appearance, he’s under seven feet, hair’s a flat-top fade, but it’s already white. I thought … for sure his dreads were white because he was born in 1960, so he’s in his 50’s. No. He’s just gotten bigger and badder … and fatter.”

“Because he can turn the fat into muscle–”

“Because he turns the fat to muscle and back, yes, Care!” snapped Harvey, cutting Carroll off. My contact tells me he lacks an energy pattern, his powers are purely chemical; a mutant metabolism processing macronutrients at hyper-speed in a lossless process. So … no crazy field of energy driving the powers, just him. And like the poster boy for energy-based powers, with a pattern you can see from space, the Solar Scion, the Big Original Gangsta’ … doesn’t age.”

Carroll’s face scrunched up and he turned up his palms, motioning like someone flipping a table. “So what!? Harvey, what is wrong? Why does that matter?”

“I’ll tell you why, Carroll. You’re not aging, Johnny’s not aging but you know who is!? I am!” Turning onto pavement for the first time since starting the engine Harvey turned on the cruise control and exhaled, relaxing a little. “I am…”

“Fuck, man, I don’t know if that’s true. I’m only nineteen freakin’ years old, y’know?”

“And I’m twenty-five. Already seeing laugh lines around my eyes. My old man, he had a ‘touch up’ every year from the time he was my age. They’d tighten up his face, trim the turkey neck and maybe top it all off with a little Botox. Botulism bacteria, Care. Gets in your bloodstream and kills you. But he’d do that so he never had to look a day over twenty-five. Mom had her process too, taking off for weeks at a time, kept it all a big secret. In the end she looked like a supermodel. Always bragged how she looked better than Cindy Crawford, younger … not that it mattered in the end.”

All during this infodump Carroll’s eyes got bigger and bigger; Harvey was talking about his dead parents. “In the end?” he asked, afraid to say more, not wanting Harvey to clam up again.

“Yeah … she was like a porcelain doll, Care. Now that … that shit was immortality. Cops tried to keep me back, but–” a sudden, strident ringing hit the air like a brick. “Fuck!”

“What the hell is that!?” asked Carroll, feeling near panic. The sound was painful in this enclosed space.

“It’s a call for Bouncer, not me, but Bouncer, and it’s coming from my damned helmet. Get it! It’s in the back! Hurry!” Harvey’s hands wavered at the wheel. The sound was like a knife in the skull.

“Why!? Why is it like this!?” Snatching up the helmet Carroll staggered a little, inner ear no longer resisting what felt like overwhelming pressure. The sound had stopped.

“What!?” shouted Harvey.

“Why is it like this!? It stopped anyway.”

“No, give it, it switches to internal audio automatically when picked up.”

Handing it off Carroll asked “how do you even have a signal out here?”

“Same way we have internet; satellites.” Popping the helmet on, no mean feat with the dangling gaskets and seals, Harvey turned on the external audio and answered. “Bogo! This had better be important. We’re on an important mission. Solar Scion was involved and everything.”

“Holy shit, really?” asked a nasal, gravelly voice. “I mean, this ain’t no emergency or nothin’. I mean … I don’t think.”

“Who’s Bogo?” whisper-screamed Carroll.

“Who dat?” asked Bogo.

“Communicator’s real sensitive on external audio, Mandusa.”

“Oh, uh, sorry…”

“Who’s Mandusa? You got a partner?” asked Bogo, sounding surprised.

Harvey sighed deeply. “Yes, Bogo, I have a partner.”

“But you said you work alone! That’s why we couldn’t be partners!”

“That’s because you wouldn’t listen to my very valid real reasons, man. You’re huge, very distinct, incapable of having a secret identity and way too loud! Plus, you’re strong, yeah, but not so strong to where you could necessarily win fights I couldn't win myself. I needed someone to compliment my own abilities!”

Beat. “So this guy’s got powers, eh?” asked Bogo.

“Why are you calling, Bogo!?”

“Right, yeah, yeah, it’s probably nothin’. Just, y’know, remember back when you was using me as a contact and shit?”

“Bogo…” Harvey did not like his emphasis on the word “using”.

“Yeah, yeah. You mentioned the Wildcorp androids. They was in the news and you thought if you caught one it’d help you get your license. You ever get that thing? You and your partner, I mean.”

“Sure did! Huge apprehension. Now why’d you call!?”

“Saw a little bald girl with obvious seams between her body parts, man. Think she wanted me to follow her down into this station what got shut down last year. Nothin’ down there but Mole People but, y’know, I was tryin’ to help you out still, y’know? Like back when you was just gettin’ started.”

“You sound like a Confederate widow, Bogo. Don’t chase a lost cause.”

“Whatever, man. I could do what you’re doin’! I’m a brick! That’s what they call guys like me!”

“No, I just fought a brick! He knocked down a five-story building made of girders and concrete during our fight! Can you do that!?”

Bogo waited three seconds before replying. “No. You serious?”

“Yes, I am. Only way you would’ve survived the guy is if you avoided him completely like I did! I put him in the dark and ambushed the shit out of him. Even then we didn’t get him that night. We had to add a third guy, an Omni, you know what that is?”

“H-Bouncer, man, what’s the point of all this!?” Carroll shouted. Harvey’s driving was getting worse and worse as he started talking with his hands like a true New Yorker.

“Yeah I do!” shouted Bogo. “That’s … that’s pretty fucked up.”

“Okay, just, don’t worry about it, okay…? We’re four hours out, Bogo. Nothing for it.”

“No shit!? Dude, you left the city? This is where the action is.”

“The case started in Jersey and ended upstate, okay? Look, I gotta drive. Meet us there at … seven thirty.”

“Seven thirty!? Not hardly any daylight after that, man, you sure?” Bogo had a little trepidation in his voice.

“Look, it’s a robot that thinks it’s a little girl, right? We’ll get down there, I have sensors that’ll pick out her footprints, we’ll find her by her bedtime or whatever. Save her…”

“Save? Uh, well, that’s just it, Bounce. She didn’t look like she was in trouble, but she did try to wave me over.”

“Wave you over? How far away were you?”

“Shit, uh … well, less than a football field.” Squinting, Bogo tried to focus on the Subway station before hustling that way and counting his steps. “Hold on.”

“Did you say football field!?” Harvey was believing this less and less.

“Hold on, I’m counting my steps.” Hustling, he did his best not to tax Bouncer’s patience. “Yeah, okay, ninety-three steps, I probably got a three-foot stride or whatever and … and…”

“So yes, almost a whole football field, the long way. I don’t think you saw anything, Bogo.”

But the bright blue, artificial eyes halfway down the steps, just visible in the fading light under the opening into the subway, the Doll Girl stood, waving. “Bounce … I’m lookin’ right at her. She’s down the stairs here.”

Bogo’s breath caught in his throat as the girl opened her mouth, a voice like a music box ringing out. “They need help.”

In the RV Harvey and Carroll looked at each other, thrown off by the inhuman quality of the girl’s voice. “Uh … Bogo. What the hell was that?” asked Harvey.

“It’s her, man. The … the Doll Girl. She’s waving me in again.”

“Don’t go down there! It could be a trap.”

“Yeah, no shit, Bounce. She’s … shit, she’s going. C’mon, girl! Don’t go in there! We’ll get you help or somethin’! For … whatever this whole mess is.”

“Give us three hours, Bogo. We’re hauling ass!” and Harvey stepped on the pedal, again, sacrificing safety for speed just like the drive upstate.

“Ohhh boy, not again!” howled Carroll.

The hairband shot off as Carroll’s prehensile mop of endless hair spread out, prepared to steady the vehicle again as Harvey careened forward in the southbound lane. On the dash, the laptop sprang to life, having finally gotten enough charge from being in its dock to awaken. Data scrolled by, BIOS, specs, the obscure dark web operating system favored by Harvey popped up immediately followed by a chat window. It was Harvey’s mysterious benefactor who had been feeding them information all this time. There was a single line of text, received by the service ten minutes prior, only now coming through. “Follow the girl.”