Dallas Preston muddled mint into a glass at his bar in front of the couch where Marco and Clay were held at gunpoint. The cold night breeze of Texas flowing in through the open sliding door where they had entered the home from the yard.
"I'll tell ya what, these Cubans don't know how to run a country, but they came up with a damn fine cocktail. You want one, boy?" Dallas said, uncorking a bottle of white rum.
"No thanks, I'm only eighteen. And my name is Marco, not 'boy'." Marco seethed. The talk show host continued to prepare his drink, ignoring Marco.
"Look," Marco barked, and Dallas looked up, "let kid go, at least. He's only here cuz'uh me, this ain't his problem." and an inspiration came to Marco. "Mattter'uh fact, let him go, send yer guards away, and you'n me handle this like men."
Big idiot like him'll bite on that, I ain't got a chance two on one, 'specially when one of 'em got a gun, but I can whoop that cave man no problem one-on-one. I dragged the kid in'tah this, least I can do is get 'im out.
Marco's plotting was interrupted when Dallas laughed.
"Hot damn, we got a live one here, a lil' Mexican jumping bean!" Dallas finished making his drink and sat on the grand leather chair opposite the couch where the boys were being held. "'Course I should've expected it, given your...abilities. But I think I tlike my boys right where they are, and never you mind little Clay here, I'd never hurt a hair on his head"
"Unc, he ain't do nothin' wrong! He just—" Clay began before being cut off by Dallas.
"Hush up now, boy! He's one of them. You seen it with your own eyes, he can't be trusted. Neither can you, considering you was helpin' him. What I say on the program 'bout his kind?" Dallas gestured with his drink at Marco, the ice tinkling in his glass.
"...'bout Mexicans?" Clay started nervously.
"No, boy, Superhumans!" Dallas said, his voice and flailing hands expressing his exasperation.
"Oh...well, you say the government is makin' 'em in labs as a way to Trojan Horse Americans into'uh police state." Clay said in the hushed tone of a child being scolded.
He finally sounds like a kid for once. Poor feller. Marco thought, looking over at Clay who was staring at the coffee table rather than Dallas' eyes.
"You're goddamn right, son. They've been working on this for years, drip-droppin' sightings and whispers to start the rumors among people like you and me, then they're gonna do a false flag Op, some Superman type will save a bus uh'schoolgirls from fallin' off a cliff or somethin', 'course, it'll be the government that cut the brake lines to that bus;and the damn mainstream media'll fawn all over'em. Government will punish him, make it seem like they don't like vigilantes, a call back to how the Masks of the good ol' days got stamped out. Then, they'll go and make it legal, but only under direct federal government supervision. And BAM, Superman turns into Stalin." Dallas finished his rant with a clap of his hands. He retrieved his mojito and sat back on his chair, sipping expectantly, waiting for the boys to say something.
"Masked existed, sure, but ain't no way Superhumans're real! They're a myth. An urban legend, like UFOs or Bigfoot. There were only ever Masked Adventurers, like The Golden Eagle or Samaritan. And they were just military mascot types, or vigilantes in halloween costumes." Marco said chuckling, forgetting for a moment that there was a gun at the back of his head.
"Oh? So what does that make you? S'pose all Mexicans can go around shooting balls'uh light out they hands?" Dallas asked mockingly.
"No, I'm not a superhuman, I'm....I'm just...just Marco." Marco explained, shaking his head to try and knock loose the cognitive dissonance.
"Well, 'Just Marco', there's more to you and the world than meets the eye. And don't go bad mouthin' Bigfoot and The Greys. Bigfoot is a member of a long lost Gigantopithecus colony and The Greys are psychic scientists who come here to study earth." Dallas said with a dead serious face. Marco lost his mind laughing.
"You seriously believe all this!?" Marco asked, fighting for breath.
"'Course he does! This man is a genius of investigative journalism! You need tah listen to his show." Clay jumped in. A smile spread on Dallas' face and he let out a hearty laugh of approval.
"Hot damn, that's my boy!" Dallas exclaimed, raising his glass to the boy. Clay looked over at him and smiled.
"Unc, why take him at gunpoint? He wants your help so why force 'em?" Clay asked.
"Well son, this man here, whether he knows it or not, is an agent of the deep state. They're going to use him, or someone like him, to destroy American democracy. So I'm gonna take him to a hypnotist first, and find what he's got hidden is his head and expose his powers and the information to the world to foil the plan'uh the deep state." Dallas triumphed. Clay was awestruck. Marco was not amused.
"Ok, whatever, let's just get up outta here before that guy in the suit shows up." Marco sighed. Dallas sat up in his seat.
"What 'guy in a suit'?" Dallas inquired, narrowing his eyes and leaning forward.
"The guy in the black suit who killed my Abuela." Marco explained. Dallas shot up and dropped his glass, shattering it on the floor.
"The Man in Black?!" Dallas cried, rushing over to Marco and seizing him by the hoodie. Marco realized the talk show host had every bit of strength his barrel chest and broad back suggested.
"I guess you could call him that, yeah? Some blond guy in a black suit. He looked like...uhh well, I don't really remember what he looked like, now I think about it, really plain face" Marco finished. Dallas dropped Marco back onto the couch.
"Of course you don't remember what he looks like, no one does! He doesn't want you to remember! Jimmy, tell the boys to load up and get the caravan ready, we gotta get the hell outta here!" Dallas released Marco and Clay stood up beside him.
"Unc? What's wrong?" Clay asked.
"What's wrong? What's wrong?! Your taco eatin' friend here has led the top assassin of the deep state right to my door! The Man in Black is a synthetic human made by the shadow government, they have psychic powers and they kill people who get too close to the truth!" Dallas explained.
He went back behind the bar and kneeled down. Marco heard electronic beeping and a mechanical click. Dallas came back up from behind the bar with a pistol, two boxes of bullets, and a shotgun that he pulled down from behind the bar.
"The Men in Black? Like the Will Smith movie? Or the urban legend?" Marco joked.
"Both! I ain't got time for your smart mouth, boy. Johnny! Take them to my car, you ride the rearguard, Jason rides vanguard, and Jimmy drives the center with me'n the boys." Dallas commanded an unseen man behind Marco. Large hands grabbed Marco and Clay by the arms and dragged them back towards the garage. Marco turned to his captor and saw a tall, dark haired man in a suit pulling him.
"Hey! Let me go!" Marco demanded.
His words fell on deaf ears as Johnny threw him and Clay into the backseat of a peculiar looking SUV. Marco began to protest again, but Johnny slammed the door in his face and pulled a gun on him, pointing the weapon at Marco through the glass window.
"It ain't no use. Go on, sit back, it ain't like you got anywhere else to go." Clay said, buckling himself into the vehicle.
Anger sprouted inside Marcos' stomach to parallel the tears forming in his eyes. Clay was right, but he didn't want to admit it.
Abuela is–she's gone. I don't want to risk anyone else in the family. He's right, I'll stick with these idiots until I figure something else out. Marco sat down and buckled in.
"Some Unc' you got, kidnappin' us like this." Marco said.
"We ain't gettin' kidnapped. Least, I ain't. I wanna go with Unc. Shoot, you could blast yer way outta here if ya wanted to, but Unc is yer best shot at gettin' answers, ain't it? So go on and quit yer whinin'." Clay said it so casually that it made Marco even angrier.
Before Marco could retort, Dallas arrived in the vehicle. The big man took the passenger seat and Marco heard the trunk open behind him.
He turned and saw Jimmy load seven large black duffle bags into the trunk. Jimmy closed the door and took his place on the driver's seat. Marco heard all three engines start and saw the garage door open autonomously.
All three SUVs, each decorated with a set of longhorns on the hood, idled side by side. Then, the car to their right took off, followed by the car Marco was in, followed by the other car with only a single occupant. All three vehicles went single file down the dirt road that led up to Dallas' mansion.
The convoy passed through the gate with Dallas' initials and merged onto the black paved municipal road.
"Where are we going?" Marco asked from the back seat.
"Far'n the hell away from here, that's for damn sure. If The Man in Black isn't already on his way, he's sure to figure out where you are sooner rather than later." Dallas replied.
"Why don't we just go to the police? Won't they believe you?" Marco asked. Dallas roared with laughter at the question.
"C'mon now, boy, you know damn well the police won't believe the story about a secret agent comin' to kill a little Mexican with superpowers. We gotta haul ass to one of my safe houses, best shot at livin' through all this." Dallas said. The caravan continued down the road, heading back toward town. A little ways down the road, the light coming in through the back window got more intense. Marco turned to investigate and heard a metallic crunch as he saw the back SUV lurch forward as if hit from behind.
"Boss, it's him." A static-laden voice said, flooding in from a speaker in the front seat. Dallas grabbed a hand console and clicked down on the button to reply.
"Roger that. All cars take evasive maneuvers, pattern three." Dallas spoke with a somber tone.
"Roger." Said the first voice.
"Roger." Said another.
"Roger." Jimmy replied from the front seat.
The middle car and the back car shifted over to the left lane while the very front car cut speed to fall behind them and be directly in front of the stranger's car. Then, the car containing Dallas and Marco shifted back to the right lane.
It's like a dance. Marco marveled at the orchestration of the vehicles. Clay must have noticed Marco's surprise and looked at him with amusement, forgetting his previous anger.
"Dallas used to be in the Army, his guards are military too, can't beat the good ol' American fightin' force." Clay smiled.
"We ain't outta the woods yet." Dallas said. "Car three, ram this bastard off the road." Dallas commanded.
Marco looked and saw the SUV driving on the wrong side of the road begin to ram into what looked like a black sedan. The smaller car swerved to stay on the road, Marco could hear the squealing of the tires from the force of movement. Marco then heard three subtle bangs and saw sparks fly off the SUV.
"Car two, he's firing on me!" Said the voice from the communicator.
"Copy that. Car one, return fire, don't worry 'bout makin' noise." Dallas ordered.
"Roger that." Another static-laden voice came. Marco then saw the window of the car behind them roll down and an arm emerged with the biggest pistol Marco had ever seen. Three loud shots rang out.
"Car three, any effect?" Dallas asked.
"Negative, car one's shots had no effect. Probable armoured vehicle." Replied the communicator.
"Damn!" Dallas exclaimed. The talk show host turned and looked at Marco. "Think you can take a shot?" Dallas asked.
Marco sat confused for a moment, then remembered that he could blow open concrete walls.
"Maybe, but what if he shoots at me?" Marco asked.
"Keep your head in the car. Whatever the hell you do comes out yer hands, that's all that needs to go outside the car." Dallas said.
Marco nodded and rolled down his window enough for his hand to go outside the car.
"Tell the car behind us to kill its lights, I can't see through the back window." Marcos said.
Dallas complied and a moment later the lights of the SUV behind them went out, leaving only the headlights of the sedan on, giving away the rival car's position. Marco stuck his hand out of the window and found the warmth deep down inside of him, calling it to his hand.
"When I say, tell 'em tah switch lanes!" Marco yelled over the whipping wind.
I didn't even realize we were going this fast. Marco focused on the lights behind them and angled his hand to face the sedan.
"Now!" Marco called.
He heard Dallas' gruff voice behind him and saw the SUV swerve to the left lane. The sedan was plainly in view and Marco pushed the gentle heat from his palm. He saw the golden orb shoot out of himself at great speed and curve to impact with the driver side windshield of the Lincoln sedan.
I ain't try tah make it curve, but I wanted it to ...
The orb exploded on impact into a burst of golden white light, making a peculiar sound like some kind of weapon out of a science fiction movie. The sedan fell back a bit and the SUV moved back into position.
"Hot damn, hombre! That's one helluva light show!" Clay squealed with delight.
"Any effect? " Dallas asked.
"Only superficial, the windshield is cracked, but nothing more." The driver of the car behind them reported.
"Damn!" Dallas slammed his fist into the dashboard.
Marco rolled up his just as more suppressed shots rang out from the sedan. Marco heard the roar of an engine and saw the sedan pull up next to them on their left side, having left the road and mounted the dirt hill beside them. Marco saw the face of the driver, a plain man, nondescript, with blond hair and sunglasses.
"How the hell—?!" Dallas couldn't finish his sentence because a moment later, the sedan left the hill and smashed right into their car.
The bigger car lurched to the side but the driver was able to get it back on course before the sedan smashed into them again. The driver again successfully fought his way back into position. The Man in Black rolled down his window and stuck his hand out of the car, only a black leather driving glove on it. The Man in Black then pointed his index finger at the driver and made his thumb like the hammer of a pistol. He dropped his thumb down onto his finger, like kids do when they pretend to shoot each other.
"Jimmy! Wake up!" Marco heard Dallas about.
Marco looked over to see Jimmy slumped over in the driver's seat, his hands not on the wheel, asleep. Dallas reached for the wheel too late and the SUV listed to the left, colliding with the other SUV, causing the car to spin out and flip over. Marco felt the vehicle catch air and his stomach dropped.
I'm gonna die. Marco thought as he noticed the strange peaceful feeling that washed over him. The car impacted top first on the road and flipped again, crashing into the road once more on its side before sliding to a halt.
Marco's head was swimming. The whole world seemed to be spinning as he smelled gasoline and tasted blood in his mouth. He removed his seatbelt and fell down onto the car door that was blocked by the road. Marco climbed up to the driver's seat and pushed open the door. He caught the door as it tried to fall inward again and stepped out onto the car and jumped off onto the street.
He saw the sedan had stopped a little ways back down the road and the other two SUVs had pulled up to the crash, parked parallel to the road, creating a sort of improvised roadblock on the narrow stretch of pavement: Johnny and Jason ran out of the cars toward the wreck, they blew right past Marco and went into the driver seat to pull out Dallas and bring him around to the side of the vehicle. Marco noticed that Dallas was bleeding a bit out of his ears and had multiple cuts on his arms and face, which made Marco realize that he should check himself for injury.
Couple'uh scrapes, some bruises, and one heckuva headache, nothin' I ain't got before on the football field. Marco then realized that while both bodyguards had taken care of their charge, he hadn't taken care of his.
Guess I gotta save his sorry behind this once.
Marco climbed on top of the vehicle to get at the backseat door, he looked inside and saw that Clay had been knocked unconscious. Luckily, the door wasn't too damaged, so Marco was able to open it, and pull Clay out, cowboy hat and all.
Wow, he don't weigh a thing. With all those pizza boxes in his room, I figured he'd have some weight to him.
Marco put the scrawny unconscious boy on his shoulder after removing the boy's hat and holding it in the opposite hand. Marco jumped down from the side of the car, now more like a roof due to its new side-ways orientation, and carried Clay to the other side of the vehicle where Jimmy was checking up on Dallas while Johnny was on look out. Marco set Clay down next to Dallas.
"Car three, come in car three, do you copy? Jason, answer me!" Johnny shouted into a walkie-talkie.
"Go on and quiet down there, Johnny. Jason's alright, he's probably just knocked out. I had the company make sure the cars are as safe inside as they are out. Your brother ain't dead." Dallas groaned, trying to get to a standing position.
"Sir! Don't move, you could be injured. And the enemy hasn't cleared the area yet." Jimmy said, gently forcing Dallas back down to his seat on the road.
"If ol' boy wanted us dead, we'd be dead already. He wants somethin' from us and I reckon it ain't it ain't our insurance information. Stop playing nurse and go help your brother hold down our position." Dallas said
"Yes, sir!" Jimmy obeyed. He then pulled out his own firearm and pointed it down the road along with Johnny.
"Why the hell would he want something from us? He tried to kill me twice today!" Marcos asked.
"Oh, he don't want nothin' from you. He's gonna kill you. It's me he wants somethin' from. Can't be havin' a fella revealing government secrets on the fifth largest podcast in the nation, understand? Don't worry, I ain't gonna let 'em getcha', you're the proof I need to solidify all my claims." Dallas winked, and Marco felt disgust.
Self serving sonuva...He was right about one of his million crackpot theories and now he thinks he's some journalist. Marco shook Clay a bit to try and wake him.
"C'mon, we gotta get the hell out of here. Wake up, kid!" Marco pleaded. Clay grumbled a bit, but stayed incapacitated. "Ah, well, at least you're alive. What the hell do we do now?" Marco asked, looking towards Dallas.
"Well, once my hired hands take care of this Man in Black, I reckon we take his car and head over to New York. I got a friend who works for The Times. The mainstream media is downright filthy but he's a good guy and the name will give a platform to my proof. Oh, and uhh, if we get separated, we got a rendezvous point set up at The Starkling Inn, a little hotel outside of Kingswood, West Virginia. Remember that." Dallas said before producing his pistol from his waistband.
"What's the word boys?" Dallas asked, moving to a crouching position.
"Sir, no sign of—" Johnny began, before he was cut off by two muffled bangs that echoed all around. Both Johnny and Jimmy's head erupted with red plumes of blood squirting out of their heads before collapsing to the ground—dead.
What the heck...? Was all Marco could think as his body was paralyzed by the sight of human carnage. Marco heard footsteps approaching from the side of the road, he looked up and saw The Man in Black emerging from the woods, the moon reflecting off his golden hair as he holstered his silenced pistol.
"You'll never take me alive!" Dallas roared, pointing his weapon at the suited stranger.
But The Man in Black was gone from the spot Dallas aimed at before Marco could even realize what happened, leaving only a cloud of dust where he had once been.
Marco fell to the ground in surprise when he saw that The Man in Black had gone from standing by the side of the road maybe twenty feet from him, to standing right in front of Marco, maybe five feet apart. The Man in Black used his thumb and forefinger to make the shape of a gun and pointed it at Dallas, who he was now behind.
"Bang." Was the word that came from the strangers lips, a whisper that cut through the silence. He dropped his thumb down onto his finger and Dallas immediately collapsed. Marco stood up and took a fighting stance, Dallas' words echoing in his head:
He don't want nothin' from you. He's gonna kill you.
If that ol' lunatic is right, I ain't goin' out without a fight! Marco thought.
He let out a roar and charged at the suited stranger, throwing an overhand right hook at the plain, forgettable face of his attacker. Marco's fist landing flush on the monster's face, he felt the force of impact tremble down his arm. Marco immediately recoiled though, pain making him retract his hand just as it landed.
What in the name'uh...?! Is this guy made'uh iron? Marco thought as he clutched at his newly injured hand. Wait, you have superpowers idiot, use them! Marco found the warmth in his belly and pulled it up into his hands where golden spheres of light formed, Marco threw them as he threw dodgeballs during a game in PE.
However, as the spheres left his hands, The Man in Black moved again, leaving Marco's attacks to fly into the trees on the side of the road where they exploded into a brilliant flash of gold light.
Marco felt something behind him and generated two new spheres before turning and throwing them. He saw the man there, but his attacks flew through thin air and collided with more trees as soon as he threw them. Again and again, Marco found The Man in Black's position and attacked him, and each time The Man moved as Marco fired his attack off.
He's just playin' with me, I'm fightin' fer my life and he's playin' with me!
"If yer so fast why don't'cha just make yer move!" Marco hollered, turning to see the stranger standing behind him with his hands in his pockets.
Instinct and rage made Marco slam his hands together, which produced a solid beam of golden light to explode from his hands before it dissipated. Marco stood stunned at the marvel that had just occurred, looking to where there once stood trees but where now was only ash.
Then, Marco felt it, the presence standing inches from him. He turned, too late, and was caught in the grasp of The Man in Black. The man hoisted Marco into the air with one hand, the other still in his pocket.
"Amazing, Mr. Rivera, truly. Left to your own devices, you could have been something great. But that's exactly why I must kill you in your cradle: No Gods, No Monsters, Only Men. Goodbye, Mr. Rivera." The Man in Black said in his piercing whisper.
Marco felt the iron like claws of the evil before him tightening around his neck.
Marco kicked and scratched and tried to scream, but he choked on the noise, his windpipe constricting. He tried to find the warmth again, to activate his power, holding his hand up to the man's face.
"Ah, someone didn't charge in the sun long enough." Mocked The Man in Black. Marco's vision was succumbing to shadow when a faint red light illuminated the dying world.
"Take yer hands off 'em!" A familiar voice shouted.
There was a great lurch and Marco was free. He fell to the ground and gasped for air, his vision blurring. Marco looked up to see a monster attacking The Man in Black, a humanoid beast emanating a great, luminous red mist sitting on the suited stranger's chest, pounding away at his face.
The Man in Black maneuvered his way from out of under the beast and used his great speed to move some distance away, but the beast was on him again soon enough with inhuman speed of its own dashing back and forth leaving great slashes in the man's chest, reducing his shirt and flesh to ribbons.
The beast stopped moving and grabbed The Man in Black by his feet, spinning the large man in a circle before releasing him, launching him far away from the area. Marco looked at the beast, the red luminous mist fading from around it.
"Oh my Lord, Clay?!" Marco shouted one surprise. And it was true, as the mist fully dissipated, it revealed the wiry frame of the boy just as he collapsed to his knees. Marco ran and caught the boy as he fell. "What the heck was that?!"
"I...dunno. Let's get the hell out of here..." was all the boy managed before his eyes shut. Marco sat in the middle of the road for a moment, looking down at the freckle faced, buck-toothed boy who had just destroyed a monster on his own.
Guess it ain't just me...How the heck am I supposed to get 'em both out of here?