Action Figures - Issue One: Secret Origins by Michael Bailey Read Free Book Online

anything. It’s okay,” Sara says. “Sorry, but you were thinking really loud.”
    Thoughts have volume?
    “Uh-huh. One of the first things Mindforce told me. I don’t get how it works, but it helps me shut other people out, kind of. Sometimes. I’m still getting the hang of how my powers work.”
    “Oh, hey, look!” Matt says, and he turns up the TV. It’s a report on this afternoon’s mayhem in town. A reporter is standing in front of the wreckage on Main Street, throwing out words like chaos and terror and devastation , which makes it all sound way worse than it actually was. Not that it wasn’t bad, but this guy is acting like someone set off a bomb.
    “The robot’s rampage was stopped once again, single-handedly, by Concorde of the Protectorate,” the anchorman says, and Matt groans.
    “Single-handedly? I call B.S. on that!”
    “To be fair, we barely did anything,” I say.
    “We played a role. Small, maybe, but pivotal. We should have gotten some credit.”
    “Oh yeah, because villains everywhere wouldseriously quake in their boots to know Captain Trenchcoat is on the case,” Stuart says.
    “Bite me.”
    “Captain Trenchcoat?” I say.
    “My super-hero name.”
    “ Captain Trenchcoat ?”
    “Lamest. Name. Ever,” Stuart says.
    “Again, bite me.”
    “It’s a lame name,” Sara says gently. “Accept it.”
    “Well, what am I supposed to call myself?” Lots of super-heroes have semi-descriptive names, he says. Concorde, he flies and generates booming concussion blasts like the ones that wrecked the tankbot. Mindforce? Psionic powers. So what would you call a guy who can make things appear with his magic threefingered gloves? The Materializer? Gloved Justice? Put it like that and it’s a fair question.
    “Besides, a name like that throws people off,” he says. “You call yourself Super-Strong Man and bad guys are like, hey, I know what this guy’s power is, but you call yourself something weird and vague and they have no idea what you can do. Gives you the element of surprise.”
    “Yeah, whatever, dude,” Stuart says.
    “So what’s your super-hero name?” I ask.
    “Haven’t decided. I’ve played around with a bunch but none of them have stuck. Awesome Man is totally accurate but sounded a lot cooler when I was twelve. Power Dude is too California Surfer. I went through a serious Braveheart phase and thought about calling myself William Wail-Ass, the World’s Mightiest Scotsman, but I think a regimental super-hero is all kinds of bad waiting to happen.”
    “Regimental?”
    “You know, going commando. Living life free and easy. Living in a house with an unfinished basement.”
    This conversation has taken an awkward turn.
    “Right now I’m kind of keen on Superbeast. Track two on Rob Zombie’s Hellbilly Deluxe CD,” Stuart says, flashing the old heavy metal devil hand sign I don’t think anyone uses anymore. “Awesome stuff.”
    “I wanted to call myself Ninjette, because I’m all fast and agile and sneaky and stuff,” Missy says, “but then I found out some guy used it in a comic book so it’s probably copywritten.”
    “Copyrighted,” I say.
    “Copyrighted?”
    “Copyrighted.”
    “Point is I can’t use it without getting sued. Not that they could find out who I really am so they could sue me and it’s not like they’d get a lot because I’m only fifteen but I guess they could sue my parents if they knew who I am, but anyway, I think I’d call myself Kunoichi because, for real, that’s Japanese for a girl ninja and that’s really cool because I’m part Japanese even though I don’t look it too much even though everyone says I look a lot like my dad even though I think I look more like my mom who’s white...so, yeah. Kunoichi.”
    “I’d call myself Psyche,” Sara says as she scrapes the bottom of the ice cream container. “It sounds cool. Kind of mysterious, you know? Do you have a superhero name?”
    I don’t, I say, and I’ve never actually