Daniel lost track of how long he had been staring at his computer screen pouring over files, amongst them those in the F.B.I.’s Quantico database. He had been staring at two files in particular. The first one belonged to Jason Sommers, or as he was publically known, Ember. It tracked most of Ember’s life starting at birth and ending half way through high school. From what he could tell, before he became living lava he was a normal fourteen year old. Then he disappeared. The authorities believed he ran away from home to avoid going away to reform school. Nothing was heard from him until years later when he popped up as a member of D-Generation, a team of super powered teenagers with a habit for breaking the law.

To Daniel, D-Generation were nothing but terrorists. They filmed their crimes and posted the videos online. Their leader Black Death was quickly becoming a spokesman for restless youth everywhere which made recruiting easy. In the time they were active they had no problem finding members. Recently, the group was taken down, by the West Coast Avengers no less, and their membership was shipped off to the prison for under age superhumans known as Detention with the exception of Ember.

The other profile belonged to Amity Hunter or as Daniel overheard her called, Big Zero. Her file was less informative than Ember’s. Amity disappeared shortly after birth and was considered dead by the authorities. The DNA she left behind at the warehouse explosion downtown matched the ones in her file, where she disappeared to or how she gained her ability to change size remained a mystery.

Even more confusing, was how Amity and Jason met and why the two were working together to destroy a Mutant Growth Hormone warehouse. The duo referred to themselves as the Young Masters. Daniel had more questions than answers, but his current hypothesis was Ember was rebuilding D-Generation under a new name. With their leader currently rotting away in Detention, was Ember looking to make a name for himself? The name Young Masters was clearly an obvious reference to the more infamous Masters of Evil. But that hypothesis wasn’t without its own holes. Who was the Superior that Big Zero mentioned?

Staring at his computer screen wasn’t going to answer any questions. Daniel pulled on the layers of body armor that made up his alter ego. From his weapon stash, hidden in his closet, he pulled pistols and knives placing them into holsters around his body. Lastly, he pulled the bone-white skull mask over his face completing his transformation into the Executioner. With no answers of his own, he would find Big Zero and get the answers from her. Then put a bullet through her head.

YOUNG AND RECKLESS

Part V: The Ghost of You

By Brian Hamilton

In an all too familiar start to her mornings, Regina Sinclair awoke in an unfamiliar bed. If she had a dollar for every time she woke up in a stranger’s bed, well, she probably wouldn’t end up in strangers’ beds so often. She took a moment to study her surroundings. Nothing about the room immediately stood out to her. The walls were bare and the only other furniture was an empty desk and a chair. No windows. Was it even morning?

Swinging her legs from underneath the covers, she realized that she was wearing the same black leotard from days earlier. Her memory was hazy, but she recalled enough to begin piecing things together. She remembered the boy who rescued her. He was blonde, tall, and like her, he had powers. Her savior wasn’t alone either. She remembered the girl, Asian with a streak of red hair, and the boy whose body was on fire. Despite their attempt to rescue her, Regina was the only reason they all made it out of the lab alive that night. If she hadn’t used her powers the guards would have mowed them down where they stood.

“Finally awake?” Lost in her thoughts, Regina didn’t hear her visitor enter. “I’m Namie. Sorry I didn’t knock. I thought you were still asleep.”

“Sleep? I feel like I’ve been in a coma. How long was I out?” Regina asked.

“Three days. You were in and out of sleep. I’m no doctor, but if I had to guess, you were recovering from all the blood those mutant growth hormone dealers took. Doesn’t help you used your powers so soon after we rescued you either. If we hadn’t gotten you here when we did you might be a lot worse right now.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks for that. I enjoy the whole being alive thing. Dying would’ve really messed up my weekend plans. So, where is here?”

Namie chuckled to herself. “Consider us even, but this is the Invisible Manor. My boss built the whole thing. It’s completely undetectable. It’s our base of operations.”

“That little hero operation, huh? You guys go around rescuing damsels in distress like myself who then turn around and rescue you? Let me guess your name. Young Avengers? West Coast New Warriors?”

Namie hesitated. “Not exactly. There’s a change of clothes in the closet and a bathroom down the hall. When you’re changed I’ll let my boss explain everything.”

Regina stood and made her way toward the closet. Inside were pants in various sizes and plain white t-shirts. After grabbing her size, she began peeling off the leotard her captors forced her to wear.

“Whoa. I can leave if–”

She smiled back at Namie as she pulled on the jeans. “No. Stay. I like having an audience. Also, hate to break it to you, but I won’t need to have that talk with your boss.”

Regina reached out to use her powers on Namie, but found she was unable to do so. Her ability to manipulate emotions was psionic in nature and worked on just about everyone. However, encountering those who were immune was not uncommon. In those rare situations when she couldn’t depend on her powers, she wasn’t completely weaponless.

Like the controlling, seductress role she had played so many times, Regina approached Namie, pressing her body against hers until she was immobilized. Regina slowly ran her fingers up and down Namie’s arm. “I’ve been stuck in a Ziploc container for who knows how long. I’d like to get back to my regular life. Well as regular as regular gets for me. Tell your boss I said thanks for everything, but I’m checking out of Hotel De Invisible.”

She leaned forward, her lips inches from Namie’s. “I might come back for you though.” Finally slipping the shirt over her head, Regina spun on her heels and left the room. “Don’t worry, I can find my own way out.” Namie in her state of shock didn’t move to stop her.

Elsewhere, in the suburbs of Los Angeles, Roger Brokeridge awoke in his bed to shouting of his name. It was a Saturday morning and after a string of late nights with the Young Masters he had no desire to leave his bed.

From the living room, Roger’s mother yelled again. “Roger if you don’t get out of that bed now I’m going to drag you out.”

“I’m getting up!” he screamed in response, but mumbled quietly to himself. “Not that you could drag me out anyways.”

While growing up, Saturdays were a lot less hectic in the Brokeridge household. Roger and his brother woke up on their own, encouraged by the smell of pancakes, eggs, or whatever was on the menu that morning and would wrestle over the TV remote and who got to pick the cartoons they would watch that morning. Now there was always yelling and not just on Saturdays. Between his parents and himself, there wasn’t a day where someone wasn’t yelling.

“I need you to help me clean up a bit Roger.” His mom was cooking but not with the same enthusiasm as she once did. “Your brother is coming back today. We need to move the rest of the furniture out his room.”

From the dining room table his dad called out, “I’ll be along to help soon. Give me some time to finish up these bills. Damn hospital’s sucking us dry–“

“I got it pops. You’ll probably just throw out your back anyway. Last thing we need is another body to take care of.”

“Not funny Roger,” his mother called from inside the kitchen.

Roger mumbled a halfhearted apology, but it was drowned out by the rings of the house phone. Mr. Brokeridge answered the phone without taking his eyes off the stack of bills in front of him. Halfway through dragging a trunk into another room, Roger’s father came running in to catch him.

“I have good news.” The wrinkles in his father’s face were pulled tight in a smile that threatened to break his face. “A home about thirty minutes from here is willing to take your brother. He’ll have his own nurse and everything.”

“How are we going to be able to afford something like that?” Roger asked, well aware of the answer.

“Well that’s the thing. They received a butt load of money from a donor who wants to remain anonymous. Your brother will be able to stay there for at least six months while he recovers. Can you believe that?!”

The ‘news’ wasn’t that to Roger. In fact, he was the anonymous donor. He donated the money from the Superior to the home that would be taking care of his brother. “Yeah Dad, that’s great news, for Paul and for us.”

Paul Brokeridge, the Brokeridge’s oldest son, was injured last year. The accident left him paralyzed and a shell of the vibrant young man he was before. Since then, taking care of Paul had nearly left the family penniless. The hospital bills were endless and insurance was worthless. Using his power to create energy balls to steal was the only way Roger could think of to help.

“I already told your mom. We’re going to the hospital now to pack his room.” Mr. Brokeridge said, “You can put the furniture back. Breakfast is ready. Whenever you finish here meet us at the hospital. I’m sure your brother will be happy to see your face.”

Mr. Brokeridge ran back to the living room still smiling. Roger stood there in the hallway. A smile finally broke on his face. As Hardball and a member of the Young Masters, he’s almost died twice. But the money and being able to make his parents smile in a way he hadn’t seen in months made everything worth it.

From the outside, the Bar With No Name appeared abandoned. Just from looking at it, one would assume the combination of the less than favorable neighborhood and ratty design that business there failed like any number of restaurants, boutiques, or bars in Los Angeles. The truth however was that business was booming. Inside the bar, patrons played darts, talked and laughed loudly, and pounded drinks with reckless abandon. Typically drawing a rather unsavory crowd, when surrounded by their own the bar’s regulars were able to let their hair down.

Sitting at the end of the bar by himself, Ember nursed the beer in front of him. He was so distracted he failed to notice the woman who took a seat next to him.

“You look a little young to be in here stranger, even younger to be drinking.”

Finally looking up from his beer, Ember eyed the woman down before returning to his drink ignoring her. She reached out and ran a finger sensually around Ember’s collarbone.

“You’re not fooling anyone Andrea,” Ember spoke up finally. “You know I can see in infrared. You’re the second hottest person in here next to me. And tell your friend I can see her over there in the corner too.”

“Party pooper.” Disappointed, Andrea drew her hand back. She nodded to an empty corner of the room. “Figment, cut it out.” The illusion surrounding the girl at the end of the bar shimmered away. Where before once sat a rather unsuspecting, long haired brunette now sat a tall blonde. In the corner, her associate Figment revealed herself in all her lanky glory.

“Where’d you find the shapeshifter?” Ember asked.

“Figment there? She’s not a shapeshifter. She’s an illusionist. We got jailed together back in Seattle. I told her about the Young Masters and she wanted to be down. Nice girl. Quiet, but nice.”

“Great. I’m glad you’re making new friends.” Ember finished his beer before slamming it down on the bar. “Let’s not do this again sometime.” He turned to leave but Andrea grabbed his arm stopping him.

“Look, don’t be like that okay. I know things ended badly between us, but I have a reason for finding you.” In their short time spent together, Ember had never seen Andrea look as desperate as she did now. “Just hear me out, okay?”

Ember begrudgingly sat back down. Saying things ended badly between them would be a massive understatement, but the truth was she still was important to him.

“Thank you. I heard about what happened with Black Death and Southpaw. How’d you manage not to get arrested too?”

“Dumb luck.” Ember replied curtly. “I’ve been trying to keep a low profile since then. You going to turn me in?”

“No, it’s just that,” Andrea paused to think over her next words. She needed to pick them carefully. “You know how Hank can be. He’s crazy and violent and vengeful. I mean his name is Black Death! When I got arrested I had a lot of time to think. I got angry, but I got over it. How do you think Hank is going to feel when he finds out you weren’t arrested with the rest of the group and haven’t tried to break them out? He’s going to be angry and he’s not the kind of guy to get over something like that.”

“You done?”

Andrea let out a heavy sigh. “Look, all I’m saying is be careful. If I could break out of jail, it’s only a matter of time before he does the same. And when he does Hank’s not going to want to talk. He’s going to be angry, and you’re probably number one on his shit list.”

NEXT ISSUE: Big Zero vs The Executioner