Hero's Call

Chapter Nine

Milo didn't bother to knock on the door. The Blackwell's left it unlocked for him. He entered the house, and it smelled like baked beans and tortillas. Milo wasn't sure what kind of breakfast that was, but it definitely wasn't one for champions. The inside of the house was much like the outside. Different bits of long forgotten doodads and thingamabobs were strewn about. Evidence that they were used for a while and tossed aside, but just not far enough to make it to the trash can or a garage sale. Milo made his way around all the junk and into Blackwell's kitchen.

Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell were sitting at the table. Mr. Blackwell was rolling the papers and sliding on a rubber band. Mrs. Blackwell was sliding the rolled up newspapers into plastic sleeves. Neither of them looked up when he walked in.

"Hello, Milo," they said in unison.

"Hey, guys," Milo said in reply. He turned one of the papers around so he could read it. The headline story was a how-to piece on surviving the Y2K disaster. Stories like that were growing more and more prevalent as the year, the millennium, was coming to a close. Milo wasn't buying into it. Just another one of those horror stories someone cooks up to sell more of everything.

"It sells papers, kid," Mr. Blackwell said, noticing Milo reading the front page.

"If only it were real," Milo replied. He picked the sling up from the chair in front of him and threw it over his shoulder. He began piling papers into the bag until it was overflowing, weighing him down.

"Come back for the rest," Mrs. Blackwell said, "and you'll get your first paycheck."

"Great," Milo said, cheerily. "I'll be back in a jiff."

Milo left the house and climbed onto his bike. He rode back toward town, and set off on his route. At first, it was hard for Milo to keep his bike going straight while he grabbed and tossed newspapers from house to house. After a week, it was almost second nature.

He was reaching the last of the papers in his sling when he came to the Culpepper house. The Culpepper's were out of town so they had requested that Milo leave their paper behind one of their azalea bushes. Milo let his bike drop to the ground and walked up to the front of the lonely looking house. He dropped the paper onto the top of a pile of old papers behind the bush as instructed. When he turned away from the house, a large, meaty fist buried itself in his stomach.

Milo dropped to his knees gasping desperately for air. His eyes were watering from the lack of oxygen as he gulped down massive amounts of cold morning air. He looked up to see a blurry shape standing above him. He couldn't tell exactly who it was, but he didn't care to find out. Milo forced himself to his feet, and bowled into the person in front of him, knocking his attacker off his feet.

Milo stumbled to his bike. The small front yard felt like a football field as he tripped across it. Just as his breath came back to him, and he wiped the blurriness from his eyes, Milo saw that his bike wasn't where he'd left it. He turned in a panic to search for his bike to make a hasty getaway. It was nowhere in sight. He took a step to his left, abandoning the idea of getting away on wheels and adopting the idea of running like the devil was behind him, but was met with another fist, this time to his left cheek. Milo's head whipped around, blood welling in his mouth. He could feel a tooth loose against his tongue.

He stumbled into the street but managed to stay on his feet. Milo tried to get to the house across the street and wake someone up so they could help him. Just as he reached the opposite sidewalk, a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him to the ground. He landed hard on the sidewalk; the jeans covering his knees tearing away just like the flesh underneath them. Two more pairs of hands grabbed Milo by the arms and pulled him to his knees. Milo finally looked up to get a good look at his attackers. To his right was Wes Baxter. To his left was Josh Billings. Devon Macledowny's cronies. It came as no shock then, when Devon himself stepped in front of Milo, staring down at him with a look of pure hatred. More than just a childhood grudge was brewing behind Devon's eyes. Milo felt a chill run up his spine.

"Well, well, well," Devon spat, each word venomous, "if it isn't Milo Radcliff. You're in real trouble here, boy."

"Hello, Devon," Milo said with a smile. Even in the face of danger, he couldn't help mouthing off to his childhood enemy. "You're looking rested. The time off school seems to be treating you well."

"Shut your mouth," Josh said, and punched Milo in the ear. Bursts of light shot into Milo's vision.

"My dad beat the shit out of me when he found out what happened at school the other day," Devon said coolly, but Milo could see the rage building inside of Devon. It was no secret that Devon's dad was an alcoholic and hit Devon when he'd been drinking. Milo felt bad for him. He didn't mean for that to happen, but it looked like Devon was going to get his revenge. "It was your fault, and I'm going to make you pay for it."

Devon didn't say anything else. He just started punching. Milo's nose was bleeding. His left eye was black. And he felt like he was starting to lose consciousness. He was also wishing it was going to be over soon.

"Drop him, guys," Devon said after a few minutes. His goons let Milo go, and he crumpled to the concrete. "Alright, Milo. I'm going to take my right foot, and I'm going to place it right under your chin. If you're lucky, you'll pass out."

"Give me your best shot," Milo said, cursing his pride on the inside. He got to his knees facing Devon. He figured he had the best chance of blacking out if the blow landed directly.

He felt like hell, but something was suddenly different. Milo's whole body was tingling. The pain was gone. All that was left was the tingle as it spread over his entire body. It was numbing him, and making his senses more acute at the same time. The wind felt different. The sweaty bullies smelled different. Their laughs sounded different. The blood in his mouth tasted different. The world was suddenly clearer. Everything was more crisp and beautiful.

Devon reared back his leg, but before the kick hit its mark a brilliant beam of emerald green light erupted from Milos eyes, hitting Devon square in the chest. The chubby bully was lifted off his feet and sent sailing across the street, colliding with the Culpepper house so hard he went through the solid wall into their living room. The couch broke his fall, but was broken in half in the process.

A long moment passed as the two remaining bullies and Milo surveyed the destruction in awe. Devon's minions looked at each other in sheer terror and took off running in opposite directions. Milo climbed slowly to his feet. He could feel all the cuts and bruises healing as he stared at the broken house in shock. After several minutes of not moving and barely breathing, Milo followed suit and ran back towards his own house.

The thought of his bike hadn't crossed his mind for asecond.