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Welcome to the Caped Club
Issue 3: Among the Downtrodden

Issue 3: Among the Downtrodden

Max yawned and stretched, his back cracking. Damn, these shifts were killing him. He locked the back door and approached the dumpster with a foam box, an enticing aroma wafting from it.

“Hey kid. You there? If you’re not, I’ll eat it myself.” he called. There was a banging, and he came from behind it, scrambling on his hands and knees.

“No! Wait! I’m here! Said I would be!” he said, getting up. Max smirked and handed the box over. The boy opened it and stared at the meal as though it were manna from heaven. He began wolfing it down immediately.

“Hey. Slow down or you’ll choke.” Max said. The boy gulped the rest of the hot sandwich down, licking his fingers.

“Not likely. Ooh, a pickle? I love the crunch.” he said as he did just that.

“Got something else for you too then. But what’s your name?” Max asked. The kid paused, looking at him suspiciously. His weight shifted, ready to run. He looked like nothing more than a wild animal. Jeez, what happened to this kid?

“No names.” he declared, finishing the food and tossing the box. He was still staring warily at Max, slowly shifting away. Max brought out his secret weapon.

“Too bad. A shame, since I have this, and it’s too big for me. I’d love to share it with a friend, but. Y’know.” he said coyly, holding up a huge chocolate chip cookie. The kid’s eyes went wide and his stomach growled, not missing the hint of steam wafting off it in the chilly night. “Heated up in the microwave and everything, the chips are nice and gooey.” The kid agonized, going back and forth, but the smell was too strong to resist.

“Rmm...mmph. Fine. I’m Jason.”

“Max. Pleasure to meet you, Jason.” He handed him the cookie, and in three bites it was gone. Max chuckled at the supremely content expression on his face as he chewed. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now that we’re properly introduced, can you tell me why you’re out here in the cold like this?”

“Why do you care?” Jason asked, eyes narrowed.

“Because you’re what, eleven and living on the street? Why d’you think?” he said.

“‘M twelve.” Jason mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.” Max deadpanned. “Listen, I know this city’s big, but there’s a shelter a few blocks close to the river. They can help you a lot more than I can.” Jason snorted.

“Yeah right.”

“I mean it. A kid shouldn’t be out on the streets like this. It’s dangerous, and highly, uh, unsanitary.” Max said, making sure to stand upwind from him. Jason rolled his eyes.

“I can take care of myself. Later.” He walked off. Max sighed and followed him. “Hey! Back off!” the kid yelled, spinning around.

“You see any cars in the lot?” Max asked. Jason glanced around the darkened lot, but shook his head when he didn’t see one. “It means I walked. It’s how you get to and from places when you don’t have a car, which I do not. We’re going the same way, don’t be dumb.” he said, moving past him.

“Oh.” They walked side by side in silence. The streetlights cast an orange glow on the sidewalks and asphalt, casting the world in shadows and washed out light. Too many things could be lurking in the darkness, but while Jason glanced around warily, Max strode confidently into the night.

“Why’d you get me food?” Jason asked after two blocks.

“Because I can see your ribs through your t-shirt. No one should have to go through that, let alone a kid. I’ve been in...similar situations.” he said darkly. “But let me ask a question in return then. Where’s your family? Aren’t they worried about you?” he asked as gently as he could. In the pale orange light, he could see Jason’s face set and harden.

“Why? So you could take me back there?”

“More like gently urge you to, if possible.” Max said. Jason laughed out loud. “I’m guessing you don’t get a lot of positive attention, do you.”

“Hah! You for real? Nah, Nah, homeless don’t get anything around here ‘cept a kick in the ass. And they think I’m an easy mark since I’m the youngest around. Had to fight off more than one creep if I wanted to keep my food.” Jason explained. Max winced.

“Doesn’t sound pleasant. Don’t you want a normal life?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, it’d be nice. If my parents weren’t dead.” Jason said flatly. Max stopped walking.

“Oh my god. What?” he said breathlessly.

“Yeah, my house burned down a while ago. My folks with it.” Jason said, far too evenly to be natural.

“...I’m sorry for your loss.” was all he could say. The kid waved him off.

“It’s alright. I’m dealing with it.” he said, jaw tight.

“Like how?”

“It’s easy. I know the guys who did it. And when I see them again…” he trailed off darkly. Max shook his head numbly. Dear lord, why was this happening? Again?

“But...if you know who did it, why not go to the cops? Or the heroes? I hear this Dirge guy’s the top one around here, he’d be willing to help you.” It was still weird to talk about costumed crimefighters like the comics as real, actual people.

“Yeah right. If I go to the authorities, he’ll find me too. And I’m not going back there, not on your life.” Jason said, cold and hard, glaring as intimidatingly as he could. Max was only about five and a half feet tall, but he still looked down at the kid, and even as skinny as he was he still had a few good pounds on him. Still he held his hands up.

“Alright alright, I ain’t gonna call anyone or anything. Though I still urge you to.”

“Most of the other kids I met on the streets are runaways. Foster care isn’t great.” Jason deadpanned. Max sighed.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Well, I’m trying to help best I can.” Jason smiled grimly at him.

“Heh. If you really wanna help me out, I know a whole bunch of scum you could take out. Make me a lot happier.” Jason said, stepping on the curb and walking the line, arms out for balance. Max raised a blond eyebrow.

“‘Scuse me? I’m not gonna beat anyone up, even if I could.”

“Sure you can. You got those huge muscles.”

“Kid, you need your eyes checked.” Max held up an arm, the large sleeve falling down, and flexed. His arm wasn’t quite a wet noodle, but…

“Nah, I saw it earlier in the alley. You’re super, right? You changed from that to how you look now. Which one’s your real form?” Jason asked.

Max’s blood ran cold, and he instantly froze on the spot. Crap, crap, crap, crap, crapcrapcrap! He’d hyperventilate if he could remember how to breathe. A month! It’d only been a month! He’d kept his head down, stayed out of trouble all this time, and now-and now his secret was out!

“Calm down, calm down.” he muttered to himself. Jason was oblivious to the panic he’d caused in Max, making his teeth chatter and hands shake.

“You cold?” he said, balancing on the curb, trying not to fall over.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” He was definitely not fine. “Uh, listen. What are you saying? I wasn’t in any alley or anything recently.” It was Jason’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“You kidding? Don’t lie. I saw you myself. Are you gonna go for hero work?” he asked.

“M-Maybe, if I had any powers or anything.” Max lied. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Relax, I’m not gonna tell anyone. I can keep a secret. More than one of the runaways I met were super, were kicked out or ran from family trying to exploit ‘em.” Jason said matter-of-factly. Max sighed. He was at the mercy of a twelve-year-old. Heaven help him.

“Then you know how important it can be to not divulge important information like that.” he said.

“Yeah. But it’s weird. You with the government? Everyone knows all of ‘em have a couple supers for spies and undercover work.” Jason said, glancing at him suspiciously.

“Definitely not!”

“Okay. So why’re you here then? Supers are in high demand. You could go just about anywhere and get a job. Or be a celebrity. Secret identities are kinda passé, anyway.” Everyone knows Dirge is Austin St. Ellerton. He’s a rock star, or used to be. Or Celestina. Christina Conway, pop star princess and glittery defender of justice. There’s that one actor too, can’t hurt or kill him no matter what. What’s his name...Hector? No, Howard, Howard Michaels. Hasn’t he been around since the 1920’s? Is that right?” he asked Max, who had his mouth agape.

“How do you know so much about supers?” he said. Jason blinked, taken aback. He started at him like he’d grown six more heads.

“Huh? How do you not? They’re famous, celebrities on top of hero work. And that’s not counting the biggest hero names. You heard of Champion, Nightshade, and Aquina, right?” he said. Max nodded, hesitantly.

“They’re those Freedom Flag Society guys, right?” he said. Even he’d heard of them. They were on the news nearly every day, once a week minimum. Well, the Champion and Aquina at least. Nightshade kept to himself, the covert hero rarely making a public appearance.

“Yup. Anyone could tell you that. Or a Google search. Sheesh, where you been, man?” Jason said, shaking his head.

“Erm, away. I’ve been away for quite a long time.”

“Under a rock, sounds like. Everyone knows the Freedom Flag Society. They’ve been around forever, I think their fortieth year anniversary’s coming up next September.” Jason cocked his head, trying to remember. Max had a blank expression on his face, but was working hard to maintain it. Forty years!? The most celebrated heroes worldwide, who’d collectively saved the entire planet eight times, were coming up on their fortieth anniversary? He was away from Earth for only ten!

What was going on?

He glanced around, suddenly fearful. He made sure not to enter any wormholes, there were no spatial anomalies on the voyage. This, this was Earth, wasn’t it?

Then why, in ten years, had so much time passed?

He put a finger to his forehead, trying to remember anything he’d heard about relativity and time dilation. But she said that wasn’t a problem when you went that fast! Well, it was her, but they’d never had a problem like that before...ugh.

“You alright?” Jason asked. Max shook his head, clearing away the questions for now.

“Yeah. Just...thinking about stuff.”

“Like secret identities? Everyone knows who the Freedom Flag Society members are. ‘Cept Nightshade, but that’s kinda his deal. Don’t know why it’s a big deal for you, but you got your reasons, I guess.” the boy said. They turned the corner, the bridge across the river looming large. Max normally didn’t take this way; in his powered-up form, he could jump it with ease.

“People do have reasons for keeping things secret. Some bad, some good.” Max said noncommittally, trying to both be calm and remember how to get home from the ground. “Say...completely hypothetically, that I was super. Who do you want me to beat up? Why?” He didn’t miss the way Jason’s eyes widened, then school into a much more disaffected expression.

“Just some assholes.”

“That’s not a very good reason.” Max said flatly.

“Well, you’re not gonna do it, so there. If you want to tell me what’s up with you getting big, I’ll tell you why. Sounds like a fair trade to me, huh?” Jason grinned mischievously, but he couldn’t hide the angry, desperate light from his eyes. Max sighed, all but confirming his suspicions. He rubbed his face and groaned, suddenly tired.

“I’m sorry. It's been a real long day. It’s nearly eleven, and I’ve been up since five running around. Mind if I take a raincheck on that?” he said.

“Sure. Might be inclined to hear you out. A nice big burger would help with that too. If you wanted.” Jason said innocently, shrugging. Max glowered at him.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that.”

“Hey, thought you were trying to be nice and get me to go to the cops. Encouragement’s part of the deal, y’know?” He grinned cheekily at him. Max grumbled, but couldn’t hide a wry smile himself.

“Alright. It’s on. Uh, are you going to be alright? You headed to a shelter or anything for the night?” he asked, sticking out a hand.

“Please. You’re headed across the river. I’ve probably got a better bed than you do.” Jason said, shaking it.

“If you’re sure.” he said doubtfully.

“Sure I’m sure. Same time tomorrow, with a nice big burger!” Jason called, dashing off. Max strained his eyes, but the boy was quickly swallowed up by the night, unseen by the headlights of passing cars. Max shook his head and shivered in the cold. It was going down into the thirties tonight. Just enough to freeze. Sighing, he turned and continued across the bridge home. Unbeknownst to him, he walked past a parked car with a burly Asian man, furiously talking into a cellphone.

“Yeah boss, it’s the kid, no mistake! Nearly ran off the bridge when I saw him on it. No, he’s gone-”

“WHAT!”

“Boss, boss, boss! Wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t have anything concrete. He’s meeting some waiter tomorrow night. Uniform’s the same one at La Maison de Papillion. You know, pretentious place on Third.”

“Any clue why?”

“No, dunno. But we got him, all we gotta do is grab him.”

“Good work, Ando. There’ll be a retrieval team there. Finish your job and get back for a full debrief.” Knightsbridge hung up, then dialed another number.

“Hello, Nicholai? I have another task for you.”