Hawkins was on the way to work. He bought his usual morning coffee from the usual place, then walked over to the subway stop where he caught his usual ride in. The Death Ray Line was running late that morning, but that was fine; he had time. He allowed for a good twenty minutes to change stops from the D.R. to the Splitter Beam Line that would carry him all the rest of the way to his downtown exit.
Officially, the lines had standard nondescript names with colors or flowers or something; Hawkins didn’t even remember anymore. The Malevolent Med-Student had hijacked the subway system a few years back and renamed all the lines, and by the time he’d been defeated everyone just kept on calling the lines by the new names. In this town, you learned to cope with these things.
He had finally gotten on the Death Ray Line, taken a seat by the window, and was staring out at the usual blur of passing suburbia when he noticed a flurry of sudden movement near the front of the car. “Oh, no,” Hawkins said. “Not again.”
“Citizens!” a man in a bird costume announced loudly. “I am the Owl Bandit, and I-”
“Hey,” Hawkins said, standing up and moving towards the would-be villain, “This ain’t your train, son. Best get off and try somewhere else.”
“Oh, yeah?” the Owl Bandit said. “Who’re you supposed to be? Titanium-Alloy Guy, maybe? You don’t sound like that Captain Happily Married, that dude’s a total d-”
“No,” Hawkins cut in, “I’m just a guy on the way into work. But that lady there on your right, the one who just slipped on the mask there, her name’s Meg Atomic.”
He leaned in just a little. “And Captain Happily Married? He’s her father.”
“What?” the Owl Bandit said.
That was the last thing he said before a burst of atomic power packed with graviton waves and particles that would make scientists swoon sent the Owl Bandit flying out the window and over three states and the Appalachians before landing just off the Delaware coastline.
“Hm,” Meg Atomic said, frowning, “I might have miscalculated that. Graviton waves are so unpredictable. I meant to land him on that field we’re passing outside.”
“No kidding,” Hawkins said. “You know I’m going to have to mention this when we get to the Department.”
“Yes,” Meg said quietly, ignoring the applause that rose from the other train passengers. “I expect you would. Among other things.”
One of the pieces of glass in the window shivered into atoms and vanished. No one noticed.
“Well,” Hawkins said, awkwardly, “Thanks for helping out there, anyway.”
“That’s what we do,” Meg replied, laughing shortly. She turned away to stare out the broken window, leaving Hawkins to trail back to his seat. One of these days, he decided, he was going to request his own car.
Meanwhile, Tasha Case was running through her own morning routine, corralling the kids into the Miraculous Minivan (Sauna, temperature down please! Jeremy! Jamie! No duplicating after breakfast!). Just then her cybernetically enhanced soccer ball Seymour twirped an alarm. It wasn’t one of the usuals, the ones she’d set to trigger when she was late for one of a myriad school/doctor/superhero patrol appointments. This was different. This was the government calling.
“Hold it!” she said, in that very specific tone of voice unique to moms which instinctively lets kids know that Things are Serious and Funtime is Over. Everyone fell quiet, even the twins. Seymour opened up a line.
“This is Super Soccer Mom, what is it?” Tasha said.
“Ma’am, this is Department Watch Officer Robert Kirkland; I was authorized to inform you that there was a security alert triggered at Vault Site B a few moments ago. It looks like there’s a couple things missing.”
“What, exactly?” Tasha asked, trying to remember what was in Vault Site B. It could’ve been the prototypes for Seymour, which would be fine; she’d laid in some self-destruct codes not even the government knew about. But then again they probably wouldn’t call her about that right away; they’d only call her directly this fast if it was something really serious. Then she realized.
“What was stolen?” Tasha pressed, her heartrate suddenly accelerating. Seymour flashed warning lights of concern.
“Two objects, specifically,” Kirkland said. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Whoever it was has the Kaboominator … and the Sacred Kneecap of St. Gengulphus.”
Even then she couldn’t quite make herself believe it. The vault site was so secure! She’d helped with it herself; so had Titanium-Alloy Guy, and his security skills were legendary! “You’re kidding, right? Please, please say you’re kidding.”
“No, ma’am,” Kirkland said, and he actually did sound sympathetic. “They’ve got the relic that gave your husband his powers, along with one of the most powerful weapons on the planet.”
“Okay,” Tasha said, taking a shuddering breath. “Okay. Fine. We can deal.”
“Ma’am, do you want us to alert the Captain for you?”
She straightened. “No. I’ll tell him. But thanks for calling.”
With that, she was Super Soccer Mom again. “Kids,” she said, “Get in the minivan. We’re going to school, right now. No more trouble, got that?”
“Seymour,” she said, “Fire up the minivan’s engines and call Justin for me, will you? Now.”
Next Chapter
Editorial Note: A hat tip to my extraordinary wife Nicole for the idea about the subway line names, and to for the line, “This ain’t your train, son,” which sparked the idea for the story. Stay tuned for next week when the adventure continues!
Really interested to see where this goes! A stolen relic! And bandits on subways!
This is going to be a rootin’ tootin’ good time!
Can’t wait to actually read this!