Hero Worship by Christopher E. Long

Author:Christopher E. Long
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: comic book, comic book hero, dc comics, marvel, marvel comics, super power, superpower, superhero, super hero, teen, teen lit, teen fiction, ya, ya fiction, ya novel, young adult, young adult fiction, young adult novel
Publisher: Flux is an imprint of Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd.
Published: 2013-11-14T05:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

The next evening, Eliza and I are in her car. She turns into a shopping mall parking garage. I hear people refer to this shopping center as Murder Mall. There have been a number of homicides here. One in particular was committed with a plastic fork from the food court. People’s resourcefulness when it comes to evil never ceases to amaze me.

The mall has closed for the night. With the exception of a few abandoned vehicles, the garage is empty. We drive up the circular ramp to the top floor and come to a stop at the far side of the structure, which is the size of a football field. There is an open parking spot between some of the mall security and maintenance vehicles, and Eliza pulls her car into the space. She turns off the vehicle and looks at the dashboard clock. “They should be here any minute,” she mumbles.

“Who?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Eliza says. “We’re just backup, but if anything goes down, follow my lead.”

“What’s going to go down?” I ask.

I don’t know if she didn’t hear me or if she’s just ignoring me, but she leans her head back and gazes up at the dark sky through the sunroof. “The only thing I miss from back home is being able to see the stars. On a crisp winter night, you can see all of the Milky Way.”

“Are … are you from up … there?”

“Huh?”

I point up to space.

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve got to stop believing everything you read in the paper.”

We sit in silence as we stare up through the sunroof.

“Hey, did Dr. Klaus get those results from my tests?” I ask.

“No, not—”

A roar at the other end of the parking structure interrupts her as three identical black street racers launch into the air off the lip of the ramp, landing on the top level. The vehicles skid to a stop. Three sets of blue headlights appear like sinister eyes looking for prey. From this distance, it’s impossible to see who’s behind the wheels of the cars. “Who are they?” I ask.

“Gamblers who just had their bluff called.”

Something’s not right. It takes me a second to put a finger on it, but when it occurs to me, it sends a shiver up my spine—fear. Eliza’s fear bubbles to the surface. I can’t imagine what would make a member of the Core afraid. And if she’s afraid, then I should be terrified.

“… Eliza?”

“There he is,” she says.

Sling approaches the vehicles. I don’t know where he came from. He appeared out of nowhere. Sling is a member of the Core. His costume is an exaggerated version of a weightlifter’s outfit, a one-piece leotard that hugs the contours of his bulging body. A little too tightly, if you ask me. It’s the most ridiculous costume ever. The blue headlights wash over him as he faces down the three speedsters.

The driver’s side door of the car nearest to Sling opens. A black biker boot plants firmly on the ground.

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