"The Teen Tyrants"

[dochermes]

"The Teen Tyrants"

11/1-11/5/2012

I.

Four o'clock in the morning. In a furnished basement complete with a huge flatscreen TV and professional quality sound system, three fifteen-year-olds set up their chairs behind a polished mahogany table that had been upstairs in the dining room. According to Bossy Girl, they had at least two months before the family who owned this house would be back from their South American cruise and the three Tyrants could trash the place if they liked.

The one called Bossy Girl took a seat between the two boys. She was a strawberry blonde with a good trim figure and an oval face that was basically pretty despite some acne. The purple sweater and purple jeans she wore clashed horribly with her coloring. Maybe this was deliberate. She gave her two partners impatient stares as they took their time getting settled.

To her left, Friction Boy tilted his head back as far as it would go to get the last drop from the can of Death Sentence Energy Drink. He was a tall gangly kid whose arms and legs seemed too long for his body. Lank black hair hung down over his face and swung over his neck. Friction Boy was also in a monochrome outfit, a bright red long-sleeved shirt and red sweatpants. He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand and enjoyed a belch.

"That stuff will kill you and I'm not kidding," Bossy Girl told him. "Someday your heart will just blow up inside your chest."

"Who cares?" he said. "It's my heart and my life."

On the other side of the girl, the second boy laughed. Halo Boy had a square good-looking face under a buzzcut so short he might as well have shaved his head and gotten it over with. He was wearing a black pullover with white collar and cuffs, but wore white pants that had vertical black stripes and the effect was slightly confusing. "There's worse stuff you could be drinking," he said. "Like what your old man finishes off every night-"

"I told you to shut up about my dad!"

"Both of you, stop talking," Bossy Girl barked in a voice that had a strange echoing quality to it. They obeyed instantly but fixed resentful glares at her. "That's better," she said. "Let's get real here. We have three applicants tonight, I bet Rubber-Arms will be showing them down here any minute. Let's impress them."

"Hah!" snorted Friction Boy, tossing the empty can under their table. "If they know enough about us to wanna join, they must already have a healthy respect for the Tyrants."

"True that," Halo Boy agreed. "Even the cops have learned to leave the Teen Tyrants alone. We've got this miserable little town under our thumbs."

Raising one hand in a typically imperious gesture, Bossy Girl said, "Has either of you heard any theories about why so many kids are developing weird powers? Doesn't it seem... ominous?"

"Nothing on the news. I checked Whazzup.com for the local chat and there's nothing," said Friction Boy.

"It sure worries me," Halo Boy admitted. "People seem afraid to even talk about it. In the past year, there must have been twenty high school kids suddenly being able to change their eye color or to turn TVs on and off by looking at them. But no one is willing to say anything."

"Maybe they're right to be afraid," said Bossy Girl. She looked back and forth at her two partners. "Look at the three of us. Since last winter, we have been able to rob Sedgewick blind and the cops act like nothing is happening. What's going on?"

She paused as the door at the top of the wooden stairs opened. A boy their age stuck his head in and said, "They're here." He was wearing a white T-shirt with the logo SCARABS FINAL WORLD TOUR on the front.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Bossy Girl snapped. "Come on, let's go."

Led by Rubber-Arms, two more girls and a boy came down the stairs hesitantly. They seemed a few years older than the three already seated at the table, maybe seventeen or eighteen.

"Welcome to the Teen Tyrants auditions," Bossy Girl announced as if speaking to an audience of thousands. "Let's get this over with. You, the Oriental chick, what's your ability?"

"Uhhh, hi," said a tiny Asian girl barely five feet tall. She was bundled in a down-filled parket and ski pants. In one hand, she held up a gallon jug of bleach. "I call myself Iron Stomach."

"Yeah? I've eaten Chinese take-out," scoffed Halo Boy. "I think we all qualify for that name!"

Ignorning the chuckles from the Tyrants, the girl unscrewed the cap on the white plastic jug and showed them the unbroken aluminum seal. "See? Untouched. Pure bleach." She peeled off the foil, raised the jug to her mouth and took several long gulps.

Next to her, a taller girl with auburn hair and green eyes sniffed audibly. "Whew. That's bleach all right."

Lowering the container, Iron Stomach licked her lips. "See? Not hurt in the least. I can eat rat poison or drink kerosene and it doesn't bother me. That's my power."

Bossy Girl slapped her palm down on the table so hard everyone jumped. "REJECTED!" she shouted. "Why are you wasting our time with a power so useless? Rubber-Arms, get this loser out of here."

The Asian girl's face screwed up as she fought not to cry. "But I-- I thought--" The boy in the white T-shirt placed a hand on her back and steered her toward the stairs.

The next candidate was a black kid bundled in a maroon hoodie and baggy pants, with his face shadowed in the cowl. He was an inch or two over six feet tall but with a noticeable paunch. "I guess I'm up to the plate, then. Call me Street Skunk. You see, I developed these glands a little while ago and when I feel threatened or angry..."

"Rejected, rejected!" Bossy Girl yelled. Her voice developed that far-off echoing quality again. "Do not use your power. Leave this building and never return."

As the applicant meekly obeyed, Halo Boy exhaled and covered his face with both hands. "Jeez. Your power sure came in useful, Beth."

"Use our code names, Halo Boy," she retorted. "Don't slip up again. Okay, girlie, you're up next. Name and ability?"

The final candidate grinned and stepped up to the table. She was tall at five feet eight, showing off toned legs in snug white shorts and with a long-sleeved blue pullover. Aside from the rich chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail, her most striking feature was a pair of bright lime-green eyes. "I call myself Celsius Chick," she said confidently. "Here's a quick demonstration."

The teen pressed her open palms in front of her and bowed her head as if in prayer. Instantly, the air in that basement swirled violently as the temperature dropped below freezing. Frost formed from the moisture on the table and walls, and the Teen Tyrants saw their own breath hang as vapor in front of their faces.

"Wow!" said Friction Boy. "That's awesome. I'm shivering."

"Not bad," Bossy Girl admitted. "I see your ability could be useful in robberies."

"Wait, wait," Celsius Chick held up a hand. "That's only half of it." Again, wind rushed through the room and the air temperature shot up within seconds to be unbearably hot and muggy. The sudden change in extremes left the Tyrants breathless.

"Awright, awright already," said Halo Boy. He was wiping a sweat-covered face with the back of his hand. "We get it. Knock it off."

The basement returned to its normal warm dry levels. Standing with arms folded across her chest, Celsius Chick smirked at the three teens lined up in front of her. "I can actually make things much hotter or colder, enough to be fatal. If necessary..."

The Tyrants looked back and forth between themselves, nodding and reaching an agreement. "You certainly seem qualified for membership," Bossy Girl said. "We do have to get to know you better. You'll have to stay here for a day or two and go with us on a looting expedition. You down with that?"

"Oh, absolutely," answered Haley Lawson. The Windcatcher lowered her arms and placed her fists on her narrow hips, still smiling with relief. She had never worked undercover before.

II.

None of them went to sleep before eight that morning. Apparently the Teen tyrants worked on a noctural schedule. Haley had brought a small knapsack with a change of clothes and some personal effects, and was shown the couch in the living room of the McKenna family whose house they were squatting in.

During conversation, the Tyrants let their true first names slip a few times. Bossy Girl was really Beth, Friction Boy was Danny and Halo Boy's name was actually Sid. The fourth member of the team, Rubber-Arms, was really named Josh and he seemed to be on probation because he mostly kept to himself and compliantly did all the chores.

Despite her requests, the three teens would not demonstrate their powers. They laughed and said she would find out soon enough. While Haley took a steaming hot shower and changed her clothes, she peered out the bathroom door keyhole and not surprisingly saw Bossy Girl examining all her belongings.

Wringing her hair out and brushing it, Haley was not worried about her cover. Her captain Sable had provided a Long Island driver's license and a debit card made out to 'Bailey Fawcett.' The guys she knew for fake IDs were expensive but worth it. Any investigation to the address found for Bailey Fawcett would find a home out by Flanders occupied by a stodgy couple who would say their daughter was supposed to be on a road trip with her cousin. These Tyrants were not likely to have any professional-level skills but even an experienced journalist would find all the convincing evidence for the fictional Bailey in DMV records and birth announcements, even a few references to having been privately tutored and so not in any high school yearbooks.

When she had started her Windcatcher career, Haley had given a lot of thought into details like fake IDs and having items like a multi-tool always with. Her mother had overcome initial reluctance but soon started supporting her precocious child's crusade. Haley watched Bossy Girl go through her handbag and smirked. Before leaving the bathroom, she delibately fumbled with the doorknob a few times to give the Tyrant's leader the needed second to replace everything and look innocent.

Around eight, with daylight slanting in through the windows and traffic noises outside, Bossy Girl yawned and stretched, then announced she was turning in for the day. She had claimed the bedroom which belonged to the McKenna's daughter while the two boys shared the parents' room which fortunately had twin beds. Rubber Arms left to retrurn to his family home, explaining his mother was working two jobs and never there anyway.


Haley agreeably stretched out on the couch, unfolded a blanket that had been tucked on one end and managed to drop off to sleep. Her last thought was a wish she could have reported to her mom that she was okay but maintaining her cover was more important. It was vital to find out just what mysterious phenomena was going on in Sedgewick, New Jersey.

III.

At three that afternoon, noises from the kitchen woke Haley. She grumbled to herself, rubbed her eyes and sat up. Wearing Navy blue boxers and a baggy T-shirt with a hole by the bottom hem, Friction Boy sauntered in with a big salad bowl filled with Raisin Bran. He sank into a chair facing her and began shoveling the cereal down as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"Huh," said Haley. "Do I get fed too?"

"Sure. I guess. Help yourself." As Haley tossed the blanket aside, he studied her long tanned legs with keen interest.

"Knock those thoughts out of your head right now," she told her sternly. "I'll graduate high school next June. I'm gonna be eighteen in a few months. You're way too young for me."

"Looking's free," he answered without taking offense. "How'd you hear about us anyway?"

"You'd be surprised about the stories being told about you guys. I read a few blogs about the occult and the supernatural and when I started manifesting my temperature powers, I really began looking for more people like me. Then I learned about the Teen Tyrants of Sedgewick."

Friction Boy snorted. "I didn't know we were becoming famous. Maybe it's time to relocate before some government agency tries to abduct us to study like guinea pigs."

"What's with the Friction Boy name? I showed you what I can do, what's your specialty?"

"Oh, okay." He put the half-empty bowl down on the coffee table between them. "Um, let's see. Tell you what, put your hands together. Yeah, like that." He gestured at her, his first two fingers extended and the others folded down. "Now try to pull them apart."

After a few seconds, she began to look alarmed. "What the hell? I can't separate them. It's like they're glued together."

With the same gesture, the Tyrant boy freed her. "Now pick up that remote control. Don't drop it!"

Despite her best efforts, she could not keep the remote in her grasp. It slipped through her fingers as if her hands were as oiled as possible. After it fell, she could not pick it up again to save her life.

"Aw, I get it!" she said. "Friction Boy. You can increase or decrease friction where you point. That is so cool. It must have a million uses."

"True, true. I've made cop cars skid off perfectly dry roads and I've kept them from drawing their guns by making the holsters have too much friction." His voice lowered conspiratorily and he leaned forward. "You want to hear something funny. One time when Bossy Girl blinked, I inceased the friction inside her eyelids so she couldn't open her eyes again. Was she pissed or what!"

As Haley began to chortle despite herself, Bossy Girl came down the stairs in a fuzzy pink bathrobe much too large for her small frame and cleared her throat.

"Oh. Errr, good morning," the Windcatcher said. "What's our agenda, chief?"

The strawberry blonde hair was tied up in a tight ponytail and the Tyrants' leader was not wearing a trace of make-up. She looked even younger than she was. "I'm going to scramble some eggs and throw Bacon Bits in 'em. You can have some if you want."

"Yeah, sure, I'd like that." Haley stood up and tugged down her shirt from where it had ridden up.

Pausing in the doorway, Bossy Girl turned her head to give a basilisk stare at the Windcatcher. "One rule you need to learn right away. No sex between any of us. Not at all. It would complicate things. Get your action outside if you want some."

"Not a problem." said Haley. She managed not to sneak a wink at Friction Boy, who had gone back to working on his Raisin Bran. At this point, Halo Boy thumped gracelessly down the stairs, scratching his bristly hair and smacking his lips. He grumbled something incoherent to the two of them and joined Bossy Girl in the kitchen.

Left alone again with Friction Boy, Haley started looking for her sneakers. For a long couple of minutes, she could not locate them but finally dug them out from under the couch. "So. Tell me, aside from the three of you and that Rubber-Arms guy, is there anyone else in the Tyrants?"

"Nope. She's strict about who gets in. A new member has to be under twenty-one and have a power that's useful in our heists. And he--or she--has to toe the line with no arguments. 'Bossy Girl' is not an ironic name."

Seeing Halo Boy return with a plate of eggs, Haley decided to go into the kitchen and help herself. Judging from the yellow pyramid steaming in a frying pan, Bossy Girl had used a whole dozen eggs. As Windcatcher got a plate and fork, the blonde Tyrant leader mumbled, "Salt and pepper are on the table. If you're the type who puts catsup on eggs, there's some in the refrigerator."

It was as close to a friendly tone as the Bossy Girl had used yet. Haley thanked her, scooped up a generous helping and took the plate into the living room. She dug in, not caring for the hard little chunks of bacon scattered into the eggs but being hungry enough to devour everything. As she was finishing, Friction Boy finished his serving and went back for more.

Evidently, the Tyrant leader ate standing up in the kitchen by herself. She came in and lowered herself into a chair facing the couch. "So. Bailey. You have a valid driver's license. Even if you didn't have any powers, I think being able to drive would get you in your club as an associate. I don't suppose you have a car?"

"No, I was saving up for a clunker. But I took the money out to come looking for you guys."

"Too bad. The people who own this house left their car with relatives before they went on that cruise," Bossy Girl grumbled.

"So inconsiderate," Halo Boy commented. "I suppose we'll have to liberate one somewhere."

Bossy Girl said, "That's our next step. We're supposed to meet with the Royal Latinos gang and we need a vehicle. You up for Grand Theft Auto, newbie?"

"Not a problem," Haley replied lightly.

IV.

Late that afternoon, the Tyrants and Haley were standing out on a six-acre junkyard beyond the town limits. Rows of rusted and burnt-out autos and tractors and mobile homes stretched bewtween piles of enigmatic pieces of long-unused machine parts. In a trailer by the open gate near the highway, an immensely obese old man counted the wad of bills again and tucked it into a manila envelope that went into his front pants pocket.

Eddie Bloom slapped his palms together as if that would somehow clean them of their grime. He had already examined Haley's fake driver's license and expressed relief at seeing that she at least was legal enough to have passed her test. Bloom led the four teens along the row of debris and stopped at a battered white Ford Van with some rust around the reare wheel wells.

"Six hundred dollars, I guess we can't expect much," Friction Lad grumbled.

Haley had opened the driver's door and stuck her head inside. "Phew. Bit of mildew if you ask me. One hundred and eighty thousands miles?! The space shuttles had less mileage on them."

Walking around the mysterious stacks of metal that stood all around them, Eddie Bloom dug out two New Jersey license plates and dropped them next to the van. "You unnerstand, I can't possibly sell this beast to you kids. It ain't been inspected in two years. Even if someone put the gas in this container here in the tank, I couldn't guarantee the heap would even start up, let alone run."

Bossy Girl folded her arms across her chest and smiled wickedly. "Of course. We understand. But, you know, with this huge lot and all its hundreds of vehicles, you might not notice right away if some ruffians stole it?"

"Might be. I'm getting old, I'm not on top of things as much as I used to be." He hitched up his pants so the belt was almost in the middle of his chest. "In fact, I'm feelin' kinda dizzy right now. Time for my heart pills and they always make me sleep for an hour or two."

Despite her best efforts, Bossy Girl could not keep a grin off her face. "It's been great talking to you, Mr Bloom. Maybe we'll stop back once in a while."

As he limped over to his trailer, the junkyard owner laughed. "Leave the boys behind next time, ladies! It'll make my day." He climbed up the step and closed the door firmly behind him. The curtains on the small windows were already pulled shut.

Haley took over at once, pouring the contents of the red metal container into the gas tank. "How about you guys find some wire and attach the license plates?" she said.

"Stop. Stop right there," Bossy Girl ordered in that weird echoing tone. Eveyone froze in place as if paralyzed. "You, girlie, are not in charge here."

Turning her head to look up at the Tyrants leader, Haley realized that Bossy Girl's commands only worked for a brief time. Everyone obeyed what she said but maybe fifteen seconds later they were free again. This was good to know. Windcatcher stood up and met Bossy Girl's angry stare without flinching.

"I'm the only one who knows about cars," she said evenly. "My mom taught me how to change a flat and how to change the oil. I'm just contributing to the team. I'm not challenging you, Beth."

"Don't call me Beth. Dammit! All right, get this piece of crap ready to roll." She smirked. "If you can."

Haley soon had the hood raised and was poking around. She found a dry stick on the ground and started scraping off the white deposits on the battery terminals, being careful not to get any of the acidic substance near her skin. A few minutes later, she said, "The keys are on the front seat. One of you guys see if she'll turn over, okay?"

Friction Boy climbed up into the front seat and called out, "Everybody stand back." He turned the key, the starter made some straining noises and suddenly the engine began running.

Haley said, "Woo-HOO!" and pumped her fist in the air. "Everybody in." She vaulted up behind the wheel, forcing Friction Boy to scramble over into the passenger seat. "Let's roll. I think we oughtta stop at the first place we see and get some oil and maybe coolant just in case."

As Bossy Girl and Halo Boy reluctantly got into the back, Windcatcher buckled her seat belt and gingerly got the van rolling forward. None of the indicator lights showed on the dash. "Fingers crossed, everybody," Haley warned as she left the junkyard and turned out onto the highway. With her right hand, she flicked on the radio and started searching for her favorite station.

V.

"Not bad," Bossy Girl admitted almost to herself. "You're okay, Celsius Chick

Behind the wheel, Haley had a distracted expression. "I'm pulling into this convenience mart," she said as if to herself." She rolled up to the meter that read FREE AIR and started filling the tires. As she squatted by the rear of the van, propping herself up with one hand against the fender, she announced, "These tires aren't bald but they're getting there. Geez, this last one was low. Just how long do you think that guy had this clunker sitting out there? Centuries?"

Off to one side, Friction Boy pointed to a pizzeria next door in a short strip mall. "Hey. Supper tonight?"

Bossy Girl considered. "Sure. Why not? Celsius Girl, you said you were going to buy some stuff here?"

As Haley replaced the hose on the air machine, she said, "Yeah, I think some oil and dry gas might be good to have on hand. A can of Fix-A-Flat wouldn't hurt either."

"All right, you do that." Bossy Girl handed her a twenty and some singles. "Boys, grab us a big pizza with sausage or pepperoni or whatever. Two big bottles of Pepsi. You're taking it on the cuff."

It only took Haley a few minutes to grab some items that might be useful for the van. Almost at the register, she paused to snatch up a jug of wiper fluid. The Windcatcher hauled her bags over to the van and tossed them in the rear compartment just as a black and white police cruiser slowed way down.

In the front passenger seat, the uniformed officer was scrutinizing both the beat-up van and the two minors standing by it. Bossy Girl called out in her hollow tone, "Keep going! Don't come back!"

As if compelled, the cops sped on their way.

"That is so cool," Haley said. "So. People don't have to actually hear your voice to be under its power?"

"Yeah. As long as they're in my line of sight, they obey." Bossy Girl was watching the doorway of the pizza shop. "Okay, Halo Boy is giving me the signal. Quick, cover your eyes."

Windcatcher barely had time to clap both hands over her face before the entire world seemed to vanish in a solid white glare. Even with her eyes closed and covered, the light was ferocious. She felt Bossy Girl's hand on her back, pushing her up into the driver's seat and, a second later, she heard the passenger door close.

Completely unable to see, Haley scrambled behind the steering wheel and fumbled with the seat belt using one hand. Behind here, both back doors slammed shut and she heard the boys settling themselves. The dazzling light clicked off and the world returned.

Windcatcher blinked and struggled to see through the white after-images that floated across her vision. "What was THAT all about?" she demanded.

"You wanted to see my power," Halo Boy laughed. "There it is, babe. I have a literal halo. Sometimes I use it as a nightlight barely bright enough to find my way to the bathroom. But at full intensity, everyone for yards around is blinded."

"Well, it worked on me. Damn, my eyes are watering."

In the front passenger seat, Bossy Girl said, "Can you see well enough to drive?"

"Yeah, I think so. Ow. I better take it slow." She started up the rough-idling motor and eased out into traffic. "Jeez, you know, I'm gonna pick up some welder's goggles or something for the next time you do that!"

Halo Boy laughed. "Let's get home. I also snagged this big bowl of onion rings. Here, pass them around."

Driving back toward Washington Avenue in the bad part of Sedgewick, Haley understood now how these fifteen-year-olds had been able to steal whatever they wanted. The poor workers at the pizzeria would be lucky not to have permanent vision damage from that glare. It would have been like unexpectedly staring at the sun.

The moment the van rolled up against the curb outside the house where they were squatting, the two boys hustled inside with the pizza and sodas. Bossy Girl waited a few seconds while Haley locked the van and then escorted her into the house.

Four healthy growing teenagers made short work of the pizza and the soda as they sat on the couch in the living room. Within minutes, only a few scraps of crust were left and those were soon being nibbled.

"That's better," Friction Boy sighed. He leaned way back on the couch and let out a long satisfied breath. "Let's go get another one."

Alhough this suggestion met with grins from Halo Boy and Haley, the Tyrants leader vetoed it. She got to her feet, finished the lasp sip from her red Solo cup and announced, "You guys chill until tonight. Remember, we're going to parley with the Royal Latinos. Don't go anywhere. I need some me time." With that, she turned and headed up the stairs.

After they heard the door close above them, Halo Boy said, "Nap time more like it. But it's not a bad idea. I feel like I could get an hour or two of Zs in front of the TV myself. We're gonna be out all night again."

"I suppose," added Friction Boy as he jammed the empty pizza box into the trash bin in the kitchen. "I dunno. I did snatch up about twenty comics the other day, I want to get a look at them. ZOMBIE SOLDIERS is getting pretty good."

Smiling at the two boys, Haley Lawson started for the door. "Eh. I better check out that wreck we just bought. Hoses, belts, you know. I don't think it'll take long and then I'll probably sack out for a while, too."

Walking outside into a warm early November afternoon, Windcatcher made a point of crawling under the van with her feet sticking out. If Bossy Girl or the boys were watching her, as she figured they would be, it would look as if she was checking the underside.

From a velcro clip in the back of her pants, Haley pulled out a disposable prepaid phone she had been carrying. It hadn't been used yet. The Windcatcher thumbed in her home number.

"Hey! Mom. Hope you're not too worried. No, I'm fine. These kids have treated me like the new girl in their club, they're not that bad. Yeah. This is the first chance I had to call. Huh? I just had three slices of pizza and half of a two-liter Pepsi, not much different than what I would have if I was home."

Haley listened for a few minutes, trying to interrupt unsuccessfully. Finally, she got a chance. "I thought you were getting used to me being Long Island's super-heroine. Right. I have the Air Gem on a chain under my shirt and they don't know anything about it. I can summon tornado winds instantly. I can hit them with Antarctic air forty below zero if they give me a hard time. I'm fine."

After listening for a while longer, Windcatcher, "Well, I'm NOT Lindsay, am I? She can marry that dentist and live in Westchester if we wants. I gotta go, mom. What? Of course I love you, don't ever doubt it. I'll be in my first class Monday morning same as always. Bye."

Tucking the phone away inside her waistband again, Haley scrambled out from under the van and got up on her feet. The Tyrants thought she had an innate ability to create heat or cold and she would let them continue thinking so. The truth was that she wearing the ancient Air Gem around her neck. That ancient talisman which had been used by her mother Lisa Lawson as one of the Heirs of Buliwyf years earlier. It was that mystic jewel that made her Windcatcher.

Unlatching the hood again, Haley dug around. The hoses didn't feel hard, she didn't see any sign of leaking oil. This brute was in better shape than she had thought. Haley checked the transmission fluid and thought it looked dirty but usuable for the moment. She slammed the hood and wiped her hands on a rag she had found under the driver's seat.

As she walked up onto the sidewalk, she spotted a curtain moving on the second floor of their house. Bossy Girl had been watching her, as she had expected.
Windcatcher smirked. She had the unshakable confidence of youth and a healthy ego. Entering the living room, she found it empty. A nap wouldn't do her any harm, she decided and kicked off her sneakers before stretching out on the couch. Haley had no idea who the 'Royal Latinos' were but Bossy Girl had mentioned an upcoming showdown with them. Sounded like a lively night ahead. She rolled over to press her face into a pillow and promptly fell asleep.

IV.

At eleven that night, they were sitting in the kitchen at the round table under the window. The boys had made a huge amount of rice in a slow cooker, thrown in some canned corn and peas, then stirred in a couple of beef bouillon cubes. They all dug in despite grumbling.

"Not a real meal without some meat of SOME kind," Friction Boy muttered through a full mouth.

"You get your share of the loot," the Tyrants leader told him without sympathy. "Instead of a new game cartridge, throw some hamburger or chicken parts in the freezer."

Finishing a more modest helping, Haley decided to be a little bolder. "So. These Royal Latinos, who are they? Why are we meeting them?"

Bossy Girl visibly fought down annoyance and softened her voice. She put down her fork and pushed the empty plate away. "I guess you need to know, Celsius Chick. Fine. The Royal Latinos are a typical gang, selling weed and crack, doing car break-ins and burglaries as they need to. The newspapers estimate they have sixty members but I think that's an exaggeration. Anyway, they feel we are infringing on their territory."

Shoving his chair back, Halo Boy snorted disdainfully. "They don't realize we're playing an entirely different game! The Teen Tyrants aren't a bunch of losers peddling dope.. we are the front edge of a movement."

"All the kids displaying weird powers?" asked Haley.

"You bet. One by one, we're gathering our army. The old people in this area are afraid of us." Bossy Girl's voice rose in glee. "As they should be. We are the future."

Standing up, Haley started gathering up the empty plates and silverware. No one had told her to do this but their stares implied that as a newbie, she would do the drudge work. Before she headed for the sink, Windcatcher hesitated. "You know, the more I think about, the less worried I think we should be about street gangs. There's worse threats."

"Then who?" asked Friction Boy. "The cops are terrified of us. They don't file reports when we're seen. The local newspaper has never even mentioned us."

"Some government agency. Like that TV show where agents investigated any paranormal sightings. Maybe the FBI, the CIA, I dunno..." She shrugged her narrow shoulders and brought the debris over to the sink. "Maybe some sort of SWAT team we never heard of."

Bossy Girl was scrutinizing Haley with obvious suspicion. "All right," she said. "You've got a point. I've done my research. I think there are three groups we need to watch out for. There's the Kenneth Dred Foundation in Manhattan. There's the FBI's Department 21 Black. And there's the Mandate, they're a unit of the Department of Justice. I think the Mandate are the guys most likely to come after us but we've kept a low profile."

Listening, Haley Lawson tried her best to keep a serious, interested expression on her face. She wasn't sure how successful this was. In fact, she had already met the chairman of the KDF, Jeremy Bane, who had sponsored her for consideration as a student of Tel Shai... and as a member of the KDF itself. This would have to wait until she graduated high school, of course. She was still a minor.

And for the past year, she had enjoyed several minor adventures as the Windcatcher, what she called 'Long Island's own super-hero.' The ancient Air Gem which she always wore enabled her to summon air from anywhere in the world. Hundreds of hours of experimentation and practice had shown many useful applications of this. She also had the sublime confidence of youth and a robust ego.

But these Teen Tyrants must not learn any of this. Let them think she was just another kid who had inexplicably developed weird abilities.

"Feh," she said at last. "You know what? With our powers, why should we be worried about government goons? Let them try to detain us and I'll leave them frozen in shells of ice."

Bossy Girl was watching her. "You seem to be okay, Celsius Chick. Even without your gift, you being able to drive is a big asset. But I'm warning you just this once. This isn't fun and games. The Royal Latinos do drive-by shootings. The Mandate snatches people and they are never ever heard from again. No trial, no visits by family, they just fall off the earth."

"I'll take them seriously," Haley promised.

"We are going to be leaving for the parley in a few minutes," Bossy Girl said. "Rubber Arms is on his way. Look, Celsius Chick, we wear monochrome outfits for pyschological effect. It rattles our enemies. We should have picked you up a costume today."

"Ummm, I have something that might fit the agenda," Haley said. She went to fetch her knapsack from where it sat by the couch and disappeared into the bathroom with a mumbled "Be right back."

Still seated at the kitchen table, Halo Boy lowered his voice. "Any results on this girl?"

"Naturally, I did some Google searching," Bossy Girl whispered. "The only thing I found was a single reference to Bailey being on the honors list in the junior class at Truman High out on Smithtown, Long Island. The address on her driver's license matches a Mr and Mrs XX residence."

"It wouldn't hurt to call them and ask for Bailey," offered Friction Boy. "See if she's what she claims to be."

"No time for that now," Bossy Girl said. The bathroom door slammed open and the girl they knew as Celsius Chick emerged.

Haley had put on her blue sneakers, snug blue shorts and long-sleeved white pullover. Clasped at her throat and hanging down her back was a bright blue cloak of heavy cotton. As she stepped into sight, she swirled the cloak dramatically and struck a pose with hands on hips.

"This cape was my mom's," she explained. Fastened like a brooch at her throat was a lovely sky-blue stone. This was a mundane tourmaline she had purchased to mislead any Midnight War denizens into thinking it was the Air Gem. The real talisman still sat unseen under her clothing.

"Not half bad," said Halo Boy with a gr?in. He himself was wearing his black and white rig with the black pants with vertical white stripes, while Friction Boy was in all red again and Bossy Girl had on her purple shirt and jeans. The effect of all the monochrome should have been silly but the Tyrants themselves seemed so proud of their outfits that they held themselves in a taller and more adult manner.

The doorbell rang and they gave their nerves away by the way they all gave a start. Bossy Girl whirled around and went over to a small black and white monitor sitting on an end table. "It's Rubber Arms," she announced and went to the door to admit their fifth member.

Watching her walk away, Haley could barely keep from hugging herself in glee. When she applied at the KDF, her handling cases like this would definitely be in her favor. Everything was going so well...

V.

Just before one in the morning, Haley eased the van into an empty strip mall on the outskirts of Sedgewick. There was a Mexican restaurant and real estate office, both closed at this hour, and a nail salon that seemed to have gone out of business judging by the 'For Lease' sign in the dark window.
Gingerly, being careful both because of the situation and because she honestly had not had much driving experience at that point, the Windcatcher brought the front wheels to rest against the ankle-high concrete strips that marked the parking spaces.

She turned the engine off, frowning at how hot the engine was running. Thermostat? Coolant? She really didn't know that much about auto maintenance. If she was going to be infiltrating the Tyrants for a while, maybe she should watch some YouTube tutorials.

Beside her in the passenger seat, Bossy Girl was surveying the empty lot with more of a sour expression than usual. From the rear of the van, Friction Boy piped up, "Okay, it's the right time and place but where are they?"

"I don't know," the strawberry blonde muttered. "I spoke to the Royal Latinos leader today. The meeting is important to them, too. They expect to get some kind of tribute from us, a cut of our loot."

They all paused to watch a white Honda Civic cruise by without slowing. Finally, Bossy Girl said, "We might as well wait. If this is a cheap trick to make us nervous, they'll find out it doesn't work."

Sitting at the wheel, Haley Lawson glanced at the back where the three boys sat. She still hadn't seen Rubber Arms demonstrate his abilities and she was dying of curiosity. But he seemed withdrawn and timid, not saying more than a few words so far. She guessed he could stretch or reshape his arms, but how far? What did it look like?

As they sat there in silence for that moment, a black SUV with tinted windows hurtled into the parking lot and squeaked to a stop barely an inch behind the Tyrant's vehicle. Haley instantly saw they were trapped. There was not enough room between their front bumper and the concrete mall building to turn around.

"Get out!" she yelled. "Run for your lives!"

Surprisingly, all the Teen Tyrants obeyed with hesitation, even Bossy Girl. They leaped out of the doors just as a half dozen men in black body armor and wearing visored helmets moved to surround them.
A blinding glare flared up from around Halo Boy's head but was immediately snuffed as one of the commandoes smacked him hard with a rifle butt. The teenager dropped to his hands and knees and groaned.

Within another second, Friction Boy had a rifle barrel slammed into the pit of his stomach. He doubled up, heaving and gasping, unable to focus enough to use his ability. Bossy Girl shouted, "Stop! Stand still!" but the commandoes seemed to have sound-muffling built into their helmets and they ignored her. One of them spun the Tyrants leader around, shoved her viciously up against the side of the van and began to handcuff her wrists behind her back.

Haley Lawson had reacted instinctively. Somewhere in Western Australia, a tornado had formed. She siphoned three hundred mile per hour winds beneath and shot straight up to vanish from sight instantly. The Windcatcher managed to slow her ascent at a thousand feet, bringing less of the wind beneath her, trying to just hover but having difficulty staying steady.

Beneath her, she saw the men in black had captured the Tyrants without much difficulty. Two of them were wrapping Rubber Arms in a white canvas restraint jacket which bound him tightly from neck to waist.

Haley managed to sink lower, a bit wobbly but getting more under control. Whoever these commandoes were, they obviously knew all about the Tyrants. With the glare-proof visors and sound-stopping helmets, they were unaffected by the powers of Bossy Girl or Halo Boy. They had taken out the other two Tyrants brutally and quickly.

Well, whoever these storm troopers were, they still had to deal with her. Haley's cloak had a weight hem and stiffened threats along its length to help her guide her flight. She descended as quickly as she dared to land fifty feet away from where the men in black were subduing the Teen Tyrants.

Windcatcher did not make the most graceful landing. Misjudging when to cut off the tornado winds holding her up, she dropped from head height to the parking lot and had to roll as she hit. More embarressed than bruised, she found herself tangled up in her own cloak as she struggled to get up. What next?!

The men in black had seen her. They swung around with their weapons rising into place. Haley made contact with a typhoon that was hitting shore in the Philippines. Rain pounded vertically at the commandoes, driving by winds at a hundred and twenty miles per hour. Taken completely off guard, the attackers were spun wildly off their feet. One crashed entirely through the window of the insurance office and two others were thrown in after him. The rest tumbled helplessly far to the other side of the parking lot, stunned and completely at a loss.

Jumping to her feet, Haley Lawson ran over to where the black SUV was sitting with its motor idling. She hopped in, put in first gear and jumped out again, once more hitting the asphalt with rather more impact than she would have liked. She skinned her palms as she tumbled and got back up again. The wind and rain had intensified. As the SUV rolled out of the parking lot and into the street with no one at the wheel, it slammed into a corner lamp post.

Everything had happened so quickly. The Tyrants were pinned up against their van by the hurricane level winds and heavy rain. Between the storm and the physical abuse, they had no idea what was going on. Haley opened the back door of the van and began shoving them inside as quickly as she could. Bossy Girl resisted in her dazed confusion and Haley took a certain pleasure in flinging the Tyrant leader roughly inside on top of the boys.

Sliding in behind the wheel, Windcatcher threw the van into reverse with a grinding of gears and peeled out on the street without even looking for traffic. She ran a red light, swung left at the corner and sped away.

Events were just starting to sink in. Haley found she was hyperventilating and getting light-headed. She concentrated on breathing more deeply and slowly. Man, she thought, my adrenalin levels must be off the charts. She loved it.

After ten minutes of driving, she found herself turning on to the highway out of Sedgewick. Behind her, much grumbling and complaining could be heard as the Tyrants recovered. Haley swung over to a rest area that had bathrooms and a Nathan's, parking in the darkest corner and switched off the engine again.

The barrage of outraged questions from the back of the van went on in a jumble of everyone talking at once. Finally, Haley grabbed Bossy Girl by the front of the shirt and shouted, "Make them be quiet!"

"Everyone shut up," the Tyrant leader ordered in that weird echoing voice. Silence settled.

"Okay, here's the situation. We were set up. My guess is the Royal Latinos are already in custody and those storm troopers were waiting to take us in. I bet you anything that once we went for 'questioning,' no one would ever see us again."

"Who WERE they?" demanded Bossy Girl. "My poor head. That animal hit me with his rifle butt."

"No idea. CIA, the Mandate, who knows? I'm sure the government has top secret units we've never heard of. Their vehicle is jammed against a lamp post but that thing looks like it could knock a goddam oak tree and keep running, so we're not safe yet."

"What are we going to do?" complained Halo Boy from the back. The four teens had sorted themselves out and the boys were trying to extricate Rubber Arms from the restraint jacket. "Are they watching the house? Can we go back and get our things?"

Bossy Girl had untangled herself and hopped out to come around to the front passenger seat. As she climbed in, she said, "It's too risky. All we left there are clothes and some video games anyway. What I think..."

"Hold it right there, missy." Windcatcher's voice had hardened. Suddenly she did seem a few years older than the others. "You saw that hurricane I summoned. You know my powers are a lot greater than I first let you realize. Add to that the fact I can drive and I know a lot of stuff you guys haven't experienced yet."

"What are you trying to say?" demanded Bossy Girl.

"I'm not TRYING to say anything," Haley snapped. "I'm telling you outright. You're looking at the new leader of the Teen Tyrants!"

VI.

The apartment wasn't large nor luxurious, but it was clean and neat. One large sitting room with a bed in a corner, an enclosed bathroom and a kitchenette that consisted of a sink, gas stove and waist-high refrigerator. A huge flatscreen TV hung on one wall in front of a couch and a coffee table piled with old magazines and general debris. There were three chairs which didn't quite match.

When Haley Lawson flipped on the light switch, the four Teen Tyrants staggered into the apartment with groans and grumbling. Friction Boy plopped down into a tan-colored recliner chair and let out a deep breath.

"Man, I'm exhausted," he said. "It's not just walking the streets for an hour, it's--I dunno, the whole situation has me worn out."

Haley locked the door and watched the Tyrants drop down on the chairs and couch. "we can't stay here too long. If those troopers ID'd me, then they know about my Uncle Jimmy and they'll be checking here sooner or later."

"Your 'uncle,' huh?" said Halo Boy with a sneer lurking in his voice.

"You watch your mouth!" Haley snapped. "If he heard you talk like that, he'd kick your ass and I'd help him. My family has always had each other's backs."

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," he said as he stretched out in a chair. "Don't blow me out the window with a tornado."

As Haley eased herself down on one end of the couch, she put her folded up cloak on the floor by her feet. They had left the white van double-parked by a subway entrance and walked across town to this apartment on First Avenue and 30th Street. Maybe the van would mislead their pursuers into thinking they had fled uptown. It had been worth a try.

Sagging down next to her, Bossy Girl shook her head. "That's something else I wanted to ask you. You called yourself Celsius Chick and claimed you controlled air temperature. Where the hell did all that wind and rain come from? How did you take up straight up into the air?"

"I guess I better level with you guys," Haley said. "I'm usually known as Windcatcher. I can summon air from anywhere in the world. Hurricane winds, air from Antartica or from Death Valley."

"Why didn't you tell us the truth right away?" Bossy Girl demanded.

"I didn't know if I trust you guys," Haley said. "But we're all in big trouble together. Uncle Jimmy's not answering his phone. That's nothing new. I think he never got married because he never likes telling anybody where he's going. But he gave me the key here and we have an understanding."

Over in the corner, Rubber Arms spoke up. So far, he hadn't said more than a few words the whole night. "I'm scared. I'll admit it. We have some SWAT team or something hunting for us. Even if we have strange powers, we're still just kids. What's gonna happen to us!?"

"He's right," Friction Boy said. "I think we're in over our heads. Maybe we should turn ourselves in to the cops. We're minors, we'll just go to juvie..."

"That's the last thing we should do," said Haley. "Jeez. I'm sure that was the Mandate that tried to capture us. I've heard about them. We'll up as lab rats somewhere where no one will ever hear from us again. They'll cut us up to find out how our powers work."

"Oh. My. God," whispered Friction Boy. "I've read about stuff like that. Top secret government scientists doing horrible experiments."

"Well, they are NOT going to ever get their hands on us," Haley said as she got up. "Listen. You guys start using the bathroom. Clean yourselves up. Eat whatever you want. I'll pay Uncle Jimmy back when this is all over. Then one of us will stand guards while the others catch a little snooze. We'll have to move on soon."

"Okay." Halo Boy rose and headed for the bathroom. "I don't know why I'm so tired."

"Probably the stress," Haley said as she squatted in front of the refrigerator. "Hmm. Lotsa sandwich meat, peanut butter, pickle chips, loaf of pumpernickel. Could be worse."

Standing behind her, Bossy Girl braced herself with hands on hips. "We haven't settled who's leader, girlie."

"Sure we have. Listen to me. I've been watching your powers. People obey any order you give but only for fifteen or twenty seconds. I can't resist that but honestly my ability is instant. Before you can make me do anything against my will, I'll slam you with a blizzard wind from the North Pole. Forty below zero. You won't even know you're dying."

There was no hesitation in Haley's voice, no hint that she wouldn't actually do it.

"I- I guess I'll go along for now," Bossy Girl conceded. "You seem to know what you're doing."

"Damn straight. Come on, let's stuff ourselves while we can. I claim the pastrami, I love that stuff, but there's also roast beef and Swiss cheese."

The next hour brought them all down to normal adrenalin levels. As she watched them wash themselves up and chow down thick sandwiches, Haley could not help but feel much older than they were. Even if there was only a difference of two or three years, she had been through so much as Windcatcher.

Once or twice, she considered bringing them to the building on East 38th Street and handing the problem over to Jeremy Bane. She knew he had resolved worse dilemmas than this. But no. Haley felt it was important that she try to handle this by herself. She wanted to be taken seriously by the Dire Wolf, she wanted to be seen not as a newbie kid but a real hero in her own right.

One by one, the four teens dozed off where they sat. Bossy Girl stretched out on the couch seemingly without knowing it, lying face down with one arm hanging down on the floor. Windcatcher felt a first twinge of sympathy for the girl. Certainly Bossy Girl lived up to her name, she was abrasive and harsh, but a lot of that seemed to come from fear and uncertainty. Haley realized leading this gang of runaways was an awful burden for a fifteen-year-old away from family.

With every chair occupied, the Windcatcher wryly went to sit down with her back to the apartment door. She leaned back and watched the first dull grey morning light start to tinge the windows. What was she going to do with these kids? They couldn't run from the Mandate for long. That was a government agency with a big staff, lots of funding and equipment and tough guys. All she had was four frightened kids whose only advantage was their weird powers.

They needed a way to get the Mandate agents off their backs for good. How? Sheer force wouldn't work. Bribery was out of the question. How many millions would it take? And how could they hide from experts in tracking down fugitives? Where could they get fake IDs that would stand up to inspection? It wasn't like they were trained spies with connections. Haley hardly knew anyone outside her senior class at Morrisey High back in Glenville.

A loud noise outside made her give a start and she realized she had dropped into a tired slumber herself. In a panic, Haley leaped up and vaulted across the apartment to stare out the window. There was no black SUV in the street below. She watched a delivery truck slam its back panel down and realized that was what had rousted her. What a relief.

Feeling her heart pounding, Haley tried to take deep slow breaths. What time was it? The sun was high. She checked her watch and found it was eleven-forty, almost noon.

Behind her, the Teen Tyrants were yawning and scratching and coming back to life. Halo Boy stood up and bent over backwards with his arms swinging back and forth.

"I feel almost normal again," he said. "Okay, what plan has our new team leader worked up for us?"

Surprising herself, Haley Lawson grinned. "Gather closer, you guys. Listen. I have an idea..."

IV.

Three days later, the Teen Tyrants were bustling about a laundromat from which the washers and dryers had long ago been taken away. Dark blue sheets divided the rear third into compartments where folding cots and piles of belongings marked where the Tyrants had established their individual territories.

For a solid day, the old laundromat had been scrubbed with buckets of hot soapy water and wiped down with vinegar-soaked rags. Now the empty floor
space was broken only by a long table covered with a white sheet, four folding metal chairs lined up behind it.

On the inside of the big plate glass window, two words and a phone number had been written in chalk. Working with infinite patience, the Tyrant called Rubber Arms was filling in those letters and numbers in bright red acrylic paint. It was one of the few times his ability had been revealed. From where he stood, he stretched out his arms more than three feet to reach the paint job. This was a surreal sight, not made any less unnerving by the creaking noise his arms made as they elongated.

Watching the strange sight, Haley Lawson raised one eyebrow and turned to the old man beside her. Henry Wilson Cross was in his seventies, not more than inch over her own height, dry and spare in build. The pale blond hair and blue eyes in a narrow, deeply lined face gave him a distinctive appearance. Despite his unimposing build, he had a presence.

"So, Mr Bleak..." she began.

"Just Bleak. It's a nickname. I'm glad I found you kids in time. Not only is the Mandate after you, but I hear Department 21 Black wants to take you into custody as well. Not to mention the New Jersey cops. My lawyers are filing motions and having meetings full blast."

Windcatcher studied his face but could see nothing there of what he thought. Bleak had an extreme poker face. "I don't.. how did you even know about us? You called me by name!"

"Hah." Bleak swung around to watch the other Tyrants still cleaning enthusiastically. "I have been fighting the Midnight War long before you were born, dear. I knew your family, the Heirs of Buliwyf, back in the 90s. And I have been following the shenanigans of these JDs for weeks."

"These what?!"

"Juvenie Delinquints. Punks. Youngsters who get in trouble," Bleak explained.

"There's so much I don't understand," Haley admitted. "You already owned this building. You'll let us stray here and an adult supervisor will be on the grounds for legal reasons. I understand why Child Protective Services insist on it. Don't think we're not grateful but what do you get out of it?"

Coming up behind them, Bossy Girl had regained much of her imperious manner. "Yeah, what do we owe you for this place? There's gotta be a price you'll require sooner or later.I bet it'll be something sleazy."

Bleak scoffed. "You really don't know me, do you? I'm providing the building, utilities included, for the next three months. I'll budget in just enough for food and living expenses but you're not going to get rich. This is an experiment."

"An experiment in WHAT?" demanded Bossy Girl.

For an answer, Bleak pointed at the words being painted on the window. LOCAL HEROES. "That," he said. "If it doesn't work out... if you kids turn into common thugs, if I find you pulling heists or dealing drugs or anything like that... I'll close this place so fast your heads will be spin. And you'll be back on your own. I try to do the right thing but I'm no saint."

Bossy Girl seemed taken aback. She glanced at Haley for some sort of support, then backed down. "Helping other kids who develop powers like ours? Yeah, that's worth doing. Don't think we don't appreciate it, Mr."

"Already we have two new members coming back later today. There are those twin girls who can each see what the other one sees, and there's the Mexican boy who makes himself transparent. They both want to join the Teen Tyrants and help out."

"One suggestion," Bleak interposed with a bony finger raised. "Maybe a new name? 'Tyrants' is not going to win the public to your side."

"Oh, good point," said Haley. She picked up a can of cola and got the last few drops out of it. "You see those people out there watching us? There's always a few. One or two wander in to ask what we're up to. We're developing a following. When we saved that toddler yesterday from the house fire, we got in all the papers and reporters from Channel 7 came here to ask a thousand questions."

"Hmmm," Bossy Girl made an ambiguous noise. "We seem to be getting a different reputation than we used to have."

"That reputation is going to be your best defense," Bleak told them. "Rescue work. Chasing away dealers. Helping runaways survive until you bring them to the shelters. The more the local community respects you, the safer you'll be."

"Oh crap," Haley said as she peered out the big window. "These guys again. Friction Boy, get over here."

On the sidewalk outside, a gleaming black Lincoln with tinted windows had rolled up to the curb. It had plates that simply read M83 with Washington DC in the corners. As the car came to a halt, Friction Boy gave them a venomous glare and gestured with boys hands as if he was brushing them away.

"S'awright," he said. "They're not getting out."

Haley Lawson sighed dramatically. "Okay. You two come with me. Bleak?"

"Handle them yourselves," the old man said. "Better that way."

The Windcatcher stepped outside with Friction Boy and Bossy Girl flanking her. A few fans watched from a discreet distance. It was a bright clear day with lots of sun and the black car shone as if it had been waxed just a few minutes earlier. From inside the vehicle, angry voices could be heard.

"Those doors aren't going to open," the boy Tyrant whispered as his two female teammates. "I increased the friction inside their mechanisms. It's like they're welded shut."

"Good work," Haley said, "Let them fret for a minute."

Standing beside her, Bossy Girl smiled at their admirers and raised one hand in a friendly salute. "I could get used to being popular."

Haley walked over to the driver's side. "Friction Boy, let them wind down the window an inch or two. Not enough to stick a gun barrel through, okay?"

As the window slid down a crack, Windcatcher put her fists on narrow hips and peered through the opening. "We already talked with your superiors. You're supposed to leave us alone."

A gruff voice came out. "Open these doors! I'm warning you--"

"Getting uncomfortable in there?" Haley asked. She had summoned a wave of air from deep in southern Asia and the interior of the car was suddenly flooded with hot humid air. She could hear the men inside gasp and curse in surprise.

"Don't come around here any more," said Bossy Girl. Her voice shifted into that eerie hollow tone as she added, "Drive away now!"

The Lincoln pulled away from the curb without using its signals, rolled past the stop sign on the corner and pulled out onto Lucas Avenue. For a second, the long black car slowed but then it went on.

"My orders only last for a few seconds," Bossy Girl admitted. "It's enough. Those spooks were too embarrassed to turn around and come back after they were already on their way."

"Nice work," Haley told her. "You got rid of them for now but they'll keep coming back for awhile. They're like an infection."

"Ewww."

Smiling at his two teammates, Friction Boy said, "We need to discuss what we were talking about before. Maybe at night, two Teen Tyrants can sort of patrol the area and prevent robberies and stuff. You know, just be a visible deterrent. An encouraging sight."

"Not the Teen Tyrants any more," Haley Lawson told him. She pointed at the freshly painted sign in the window. "We're Local Heroes."

11/11/2017