The Great Powers Outage (31 page)

“Oh, well I guess
that
makes sense,” Stench responded in a tone so sarcastic that even the corpse couldn't have missed it. “I see where he'd be a real threat to the Red Menace.”

“Who's a threat?” a familiar voice asked as an
un
familiar head popped through the floor of the tree house. “No one's a bigger threat to you punks than me. And it's payback time for all the noise you've been making this morning.”

While he definitely sounded like Fuzz Boy, he just didn't look like him. The hair on the top of his head had been buzzed to practically nothing. And his usual attempt at sporting a goatee or a mustache or some sort of facial hair had become impossible with the loss of his power. His mom had used the opportunity to haul him in for a haircut. Turning to Stench, as he entered the club, he had his back to the inanimate guest on our couch.

“Even though he's younger,” he started to say, “my brother has always been strong enough to defend himself from me. But not anymore.”

With that Fuzz Boy attacked Stench, his fists raised. I don't know which of the two was more surprised as Stench effortlessly lifted Fuzz Boy into the air, and with barely a grunt, threw him across the clubhouse and onto the couch.

LI'L HERO'S HANDBOOK

PEOPLE

NAME:
Fuzz Boy.
POWER:
The ability to grow hair on anything he touches.
LIMITATIONS:
The effects only last a couple of hours.
CAREER:
Makes good money growing beards on his friends to get them into movies they're too young to see.
CLASSIFICATION:
When a situation gets hairy, it's a good bet he's around.

“Stench! Your power is back!” I said, a big grin spreading across my face.

“It's about time,” he said with a bluster that only slightly hid the enormous sense of relief in his voice. “I stopped eating those chips four days ago.”

Of course I knew the real reason behind the return of his power was the Dr. Telomere's chips I had given him two days ago, but that thought was interrupted by a horrible scream.

“There's a dead guy here!” Fuzz Boy shrieked, as Stench and I both turned to find he had landed right in the lap of Captain Radio.

Just as Fuzz Boy tried scrambling to get away, Captain Radio's eyes suddenly shot open, and his ice-cold hands closed around Fuzz Boy's wrists. I had never in my life heard a more bloodcurdling scream.

“AIYYIIEE!!!” Fuzz Boy's wail pierced the morning fog. “Get him off me!”

He struggled frantically against the reanimated corpse until his hand broke free of Captain Radio's grip.

“W-who is this clean-cut young man, and why is he so frightened of me?” the captain asked in a shaky and confused voice. “Am I still a pariah?”

Before I had a chance to answer Captain Radio's question, Fuzz Boy made a frantic dash for the exit and let out another scream as he missed a rung on the ladder and fell to the ground. As I looked down after him, it came as no surprise that there were two other figures standing there.

“Based on this lad's reaction, I assume that our guest is still up there,” Lord Pincushion commented dryly as he watched the fleeing figure of Fuzz Boy. “The Animator probably shouldn't have activated his power until we had assessed the situation.”

“Never mind about him,” I called down to the two legendary heroes. “We've got all Superopolis to save.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

A Radio Revival

It took us forever to reach the hospital. Not to be critical of the walking dead, but “stumbling dead” would have been a more accurate description for Captain Radio's degree of mobility.

It wasn't completely his fault, though. The Animator was expending a huge amount of energy to keep the captain animated. But he was no youngster himself and he regularly lost control. Whenever it happened, Captain Radio reverted to a corpse and fell flat on his face.

“Oh, dear,” fretted the Animator during the most recent occurrence. “I never expected this to be so draining.”

He immediately reasserted his power, and Captain Radio lifted his head from where it had plopped into a curbside bed of geraniums.

“So tell me again,” he said, continuing the same conversation he had been engaged in when he had lost power, “have folks finally tired of the fad of television and returned to the wonders of the radio?”

I glanced up at Lord Pincushion, who, to my relief, decided to field this one.

“Indeed,” he fibbed, but then added a hint of truth. “Superopolis actually has more radio stations than it did in your glory days.”

“I am picking them up,” Captain Radio announced, “but all I can get from them is the most horrific sort of cacophony and announcers offering to give away tickets to hear more of it. It's truly baffling.”

“So your power is working?” I asked eagerly.

“Yes, my reception is fine,” he said. “I haven't yet tried my broadcasting ability.”

“How does that work exactly?” I asked.

“It's simple,” he said. “I can take anything audible and send it through the air so that anyone can hear it anywhere in the city.”

“Even if they don't have a radio?” Stench asked.

“Yes.” The captain nodded somberly. “That was how the Red Menace used me to force his message onto the entire population of Superopolis. Prior to that experience, I had directed my broadcasts solely to people's radios where they could listen to them only if they wished to.”

“But there's even more to your power, isn't there?” I prompted him.

“Oh, yes,” Captain Radio answered wistfully. “There's my power to ride the radio waves.”

“Well, that might move us along faster,” Stench suggested. “Should we let him try?”

“Please do!” urged an exhausted Animator.

“Our destination is Crania-Superiore Hospital,” Lord Pincushion informed him. “Do you know where it is, and do you think you can transport us all there?”

“Of course I know it,” Captain Radio replied indignantly. “I died there!”

I wasn't even aware anything had happened when a moment later we were all standing in front of the hospital. Captain Radio indeed possessed an amazing power. Now I hoped that the final aspect of his ability was also fully functioning. My worries weren't alleviated as the captain took another tumble when the Animator lost control of him.

“Here,” I said as I pointed to a hospital gurney sitting outside the front entrance. “Let's get him up on that.”

Thanks to the return of Stench's power, it was no problem for him to lift the deadweight hero. I removed a folded sheet that had been lying on top of the cart while Stench laid him on the gurney.

“Do you understand what you need to do?” I asked Captain Radio after the Animator revived him once again.

“Of course,” he said. “Today I can finally extract my revenge on the man who destroyed my career and redeem myself in the eyes of all Superopolis. It will be a chance for me to finally . . . rest . . . in . . . peace.”

I couldn't help but feel sorry for the dead hero. He had been arrogant in his glory days by all accounts, but he had clearly paid for it a thousand times over.

“Then let's go do it,” I said as I unfolded the clean white sheet and spread it over the supine Captain Radio. “No one will find anything odd about us moving around a dead body in a hospital.”

Stench grabbed hold of the gurney from the back and began pushing it toward the entrance. Once through the main doors he went straight for the head nurse's station as the Animator, Lord Pincushion, and I followed. But there was no one to challenge us. Nurse Slaphappy was not at her normal post. I directed Stench toward the corridor on the right and guided him to the room where the Amazing Indestructo was recuperating. Stench rammed the gurney into AI's closed door and sent it crashing inward.

As we filed into the room behind the covered corpse we found the Red Menace holding out a paper for the Amazing Indestructo to sign while Nurse Slaphappy and the Tycoon looked on.

“Don't do it, AI!” I shouted as they all looked at us in surprise. “Don't sell him your potato chip business!”

“But maybe you were right,” he said in a pitiful whine. “Maybe my chips
are
sapping everybody's powers. I'm already hearing that a few people are even starting to blame me.”

“So take the chips off the market, you buffoon,” snapped Lord Pincushion. “Don't just sell the problem to someone else.”

“That would be a financial disaster,” the Tycoon butted in. “If AI's going to give up a cash cow like the Pseudo-Chips, we—I mean he—needs to be well paid for it.”

I, of course, knew that the Red Menace had no intention of paying anything for the business. He was using his power to convince the Amazing Indestructo and the Tycoon to sign control over to him. Once they had, they'd never see a dime.