Super-Mod (Part 3)|
Aragorn, now dressed back in his regular clothes, led Cameron to his room. “So what did you manage to rig up?” he asked.
Mark opened up his bookbag and pulled out a pair of 9MM guns. Aragorn’s eyes lit up. “I was able to sneak those out of my Uncle’s gun store,” Cameron explained. “He let me watch over the store while he went out to run some errands.”
Aragorn picked them up, and tested their handling and weight in his hands. Cameron reached into the bookbag again. “There’s more?” Aragorn asked. “This is like Christmas!”
Cameron pulled out a circular device, the size of his palm, and on the side is a red button. Aragorn laid the guns down as Cameron passed him the device and explained it to him. “It’s an old invention of mine. Press the button on the side.”
Aragorn did so and a small, near invisible strip of some kind of paper came out. Cameron reached over and ripped it off. “All you have to do is stick this on something and apply pressure,” Cameron said, “And the strip will explode a few seconds later.”
Aragorn looked the device over and then laid it down as Cameron reached into the bookbag again. Cameron took out a watch. “A watch?” Aragorn asked. “Sorry Cameron, but I already got one.”
“It’s not an ordinary watch. Sure it tells the time, but it also has a small built-in laser and a recorder. Oh, and it also tells the temperature.” Cameron handed it to Aragorn, who looked it over.
“Tells the temperature?” Aragorn asked, not quite sure what to make of that little detail. “Really?”
“I was bored,” Cameron explained.
Aragorn laid the watch in the pile of other new items Cameron had brought for him. “Great work, Cameron. Get to work on some new inventions, ASAP. These are great.”
Cameron smiled with proudness.
Out in the empty streets, Carna, RezSez, and Maitiu54, along with a small group of others, were breaking into cars. They were smashing windows, denting the bodywork, removing hubcaps, and taking anything of value from inside.
RezSez lit a Molotov Cocktail and threw it inside a car, causing the car to quickly light up. He laughed as he began work on a second one.
All of a Sudden a motorcycle zoomed around the corner. Super-Mod let go of the handlebars, balancing on the bike, as he took out his two 9MM’s. He began firing, hitting the street near the thugs’ feet.
One shot broke RezSez’s newly made Molotov, splattering booze all over him. The burning rag touched his hand and ignited the spilled alcohol, lighting RezSez ablaze. He ran around, screamer until he threw off his jacket, dropped, and started rolling.
Carna smiled in amusement as he looked at Super-Mod.
Super-Mod put the guns away as he grabbed the handlebars again and zoomed right into the midst of the gang. He slammed on the breaks and lifted the back tire up in the air, turning the bike around as he did so. The tire slammed into the heads of a few of the thugs, knocking them down. The tire landed back on the ground and Super-Mod had turned in a 180 degree circle.
Super-Mod put the kickstand down and removed his helmet. He jumped in the air, away from his bike. He landed and started firing, causing the thugs to scatter and take cover. Carna however, stayed standing on his spot, holding his smile as if he was watching something amusing on his stolen TV.
After firing for a bit, Super-Mod whipped around and trained his guns on Carna. “I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“It should be you that listens to your elders, boy, not the other way around,” Carna said, still not breaking his smile. With that Super-Mod fired at him, but instead heard a clicking sound. He looked down, surprised, and then back up, placing the guns back in their holsters on his side. Carna snapped his fingers and the thugs came out from behind the cars and benches and other hiding places, and rushed Super-Mod.
The hero stretched his leg back, kicking one and sending him falling back. He swung the leg to the front, kicking another. Then he ducked and rammed his fist into the chest of third. Another one swung his foot out, but Super-Mod did a backflip and landed behind another thug. He bashed him in the back of the head, knocking him down, and then jump kicked the thug that had swung his foot.
Before Super-Mod reached him though, another thug elbowed him in the air, causing him to fall to the side. Super-Mod started to stand, but Maitiu54 was next to him with a baseball bat. He slammed it down on Super-Mod’s back, causing him to fall back to the ground again. He raised the bat once more, but Super-Mod shot his hand out and grabbed Maitiu54 by the ankle. He yanked back, slamming Maitiu54 against the ground. Super-Mod shot to his feet, grabbing the fallen bat, and swung it around as he turned.
It connected to someone’s head, a loud crack being heard as the body fell down. Super-Mod swung the bat at the two nearest people, hitting one in the leg, causing him to fall, and hitting the other in the chest. He brought it back and swung again. The person tried to dodge, but still got hit in the side.
Super-Mod turned once again, but got met with a fist to the face and stumbled back. He raised the bat, but got punched in the head from behind, and then in the gut from the front. He dropped the bat as he fell to his knees.
The man behind him grabbed him by the head as the man in front took out a switchblade, laughing. Super-Mod leaned back, swinging his feet out and up, kicking the blade from the man’s hand. Then he swung his feet back, kicking the person behind him, in the chest. The person stumbled back, letting go of Super-Mod. Super-Mod jumpped back to his feet and did a roundhouse kick to the guy in front of him.
Super-Mod, breathing heavily, turned to face Carna. He got into a fighting stance. Carna just mearly smiled back. “Goodbye ‘Boy of the Site’.” He pulled a hand out from behind his back, holding a gun. He pointed it at Super-Mod and fired.
The bullet sailed through the air and embedded itself into Super-Mod’s chest. Super-Mod screamed in pain as he stumbled back and fell to the ground. Carna walked over and pointed the gun right up against Super-Mod’s head.
“Well you did put up a good fight. But first, I want to know who’s under all this.” Carna reached down and removed the cloth covering Super-Mod’s mouth. There wass blood running from his nose. Before Carna could remove anything else though, he saw Super-Mod smile.
“Hahaha, why are you smiling?” Carna asked. “You welcome death that much?”
On the ground right in front of Super-Mod, his thumb pressed down on something. It wasn’t visible to anyone, as it was only a slight movement, but Super-Mod smiled, knowing that Cameron’s explosive strip came in handy after all. Super-Mod quickly rolled away, putting the cloth back up around his mouth. Carna’s smile faded as he fired, but the bullet hit the ground an inch away from Super-Mod.
Carna aimed once again. He got Super-Mod directly in his sights, but before he could fire, the ground in front of him exploded, showering him with scorching gravel. Carna screamed in pain and covered his face.
Growling with anger, Carna covered his face with one hand and tried to aim his gun on Super-Mod with his other. However Super-Mod had already reached his motorcycle, got his helmet on, and was driving away, slumping over the handlebars. Carna screamed in both anger and pain as he threw his gun at the ground in frustration.
Super-Mod zoomed down an empty street, driving with one hand while the other hand covered the wound on his chest. Suddenly he noticed flashes of red and blue as a siren turned on. He looked back and saw several Mod cars in pursuit.
He swerved his motorcycle into a back alley at the last second, hoping to loose the Mods. He glanced back and saw them driving by, continuing on down the main road, not even slowing down.
Super-Mod continued down the back alley for a minute. Just as he was about to exit onto another street, one of the Mod cars screeched to a stop at the end of the alley. Super-Mod slammed on the breaks, trying to turn back around, but the side of the bike hit the Mod car.
He took off again, deciding to go out through the space between the Mod car and the end of the alley, just as the Mod fired a shot off at him from the open window of the car. Super-Mod used the motorcycle to dodge as he continued down the road.
The Mod car backed up and started the chase again. Super-Mod noticed that three others were heading towards him from the other end of the road. He kept going straight, playing chicken with the lead car. At the last second, he swerved away, causing the Mod car to slam into the one that had been behind Super-Mod.
The other two Mod cars changed directions and continued the pursuit. Super-Mod took off down another back alley, this one a dirt road, and quickly slowed the bike down to a stop as he drove off the dirt road and into someone’s grassy back yard.
The person of the house, an old lady, looked out her back window and Super-Mod cowered deeper into the dark shadows, not wanting to be seen. The old lady disappeared inside her house.
Super-Mod took a small quick glance at the main street, seeing that the Mod cars have stopped at the back alley and that the Mods had gotten out of their cars, shinning flashlights around as they slowly walked down the dirt road.
The backdoor opened and the old lady stepped out. “Mods!” she yelled. “He’s here, in my backyard!” The old lady pointed to where Super-Mod was hiding. Super-Mod jumped back on his motorcycle, started it up, and zoomed onto the dirt road and took off down the alley, heading to the opposite end from the Mod cars. He could hear a few gun shots go off, but nothing hit Super-Mod as he zoomed away.
Finally having lost the Mods, Super-Mod hid his bike in a shed behind Cameron’s house, and then stumbled up the steps, weak from the fights, gunshot wound, and chase. He reached up weakly and pressed the doorbell.
A few minutes passed and then suddenly the door opened and Cameron stood there in a house robe, rubbing his eyes and then slipping his glasses on. “Who’s ringing the…” He trailed off as his eyes focused and he saw who it was. “Aragorn? What happened?”
Super-Mod moaned as he collapsed. Cameron caught him before he hit the ground and helped him walk inside, closing the door. Super-Mod tried to speak, but was extremely weak and was fading in and out of consciousness, fighting just to explain everything. “Shot…I’ve been shot. Mods…after me… I knew you’re father was…doctor….”
“He’s on call at the hospital right now!” Cameron whispered loudly, not sure of how to handle the situation. “What do I do?” he asked that more to himself then to Super-Mod. He looked around franticly for a few seconds, but then an idea hit him. “Yvonne! My sister! She’s training to be a paramedic. I can wake her up!”
Cameron helped Super-Mod onto the couch. “I’ll be right back.” He turned and took off up the stairs. Super-Mod rested his head on the back of the couch, softly moaning as he fought his hardest to stay conscious. A minute later, Cameron was tugging his older sister, Yvonne, down the stairs. Yvonne looked extremely groggy and tired.
“Cam, what’s going on?” she asked as she yawned. When she finished yawning and opened her eyes, she spotted Super-Mod on the couch. “Oh my.”
“Yvonne, this is Super-Mod,” Cameron explained. “He was…” he paused as he thought of a story. “…assisting…the Mods and he was shot in a chase.”
“Why doesn’t he just go to the hospital?” Yvonne asked.
“They’ll want his Identification and he wants that to remain a secret. If people ever found out who he was…”
“No, I understand,” Yvonne cut her brother off, having already decided to help. “Ok, go to the back room and get the First Aid kit. I’ll go boil some water.”
An hour later, Super-Mod had his jacket off, his shirt lifted up, and his bare chest bandaged. He lowered his shirt down over it, and then slowly slipped his arms back into his jacket sleeves.
“There. All fixed up,” Yvonne smiled. “Now just get some rest.” She didn’t have to tell Super-Mod twice. His head had already slumped to the side, passed out.
The following morning, Super-Mod’s head moved slowly, straightening. He yawned as he slowly sat up, still in much pain. He slowly stood and lowered the cloth around his mouth. He walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Taking off his hat and sunglasses, Aragorn turned on the sink’s cold water. He splashed some over his face, causing some of the facepaint to run. He grabbed a nearby cloth, wet it, and started wiping the rest of the facepaint off. He discovered that he had a fairly large black eye and there was dried blood around his nose and a slight cut on his lip.
When he was done cleaning up, he removed his jacket and lifted his shirt to check the bandage. There was a dried bloodstain where it covered the wound, but apart from that the bandage was still pretty good and secured tightly.
He bundled his hat, sunglasses, and facecloth into his jacket and walked out of the bathroom. Cameron was just walking down the stairs.
“Hey Cameron,” Aragorn called out. “Do you have a bag or something I can put this stuff in?”
“Sure, hang on.” Cameron turned and went back up the stairs. Aragorn sighed as he relaxed on the couch again. A few minutes later, Cameron returned with a bookbag. “Here”
Aragorn took the bag and put the bundle into it, zipping it up and slipping it over his shoulder as he stood once more. “Thanks for everything,” Aragorn said. “I’ll see you in school on Monday.”
“Always glad to help,” Cameron replied. “Just as long as you’re ok, that’s what matters.”
“I am now, thanks to your sister.” Aragorn and Cameron said their goodbyes and Aragorn left the house and went to get his motorcycle from the shed. He removed the ‘SM’ symbols from it and the helmet, and started the bike up, putting his helmet on, and taking off down the street.
When Aragorn arrived at his house and walked into the kitchen sporting the black eye and cut lip, his father looked up from the paper and his mother, who had been making coffee, looked over.
“Aragorn, I’m very disappointed,” his father said sternly. “You directly disobeyed me.”
Aragorn, once again, tried to cover it up. “I don’t know what…”
“Don’t lie to me, son!” Aragorn’s father shouted as he cut him off. “I know you went out last night. I checked. And not only that, but you’ve had your mother and I up all night, worried sick about you. You’re just getting back now! Where the hell have you been all night?”
“I went out for a ride and decided to end up sleeping at a friend’s house,” Aragorn explained. No matter how much he wanted tot ell his parents the full truth, he knew they wouldn’t understand and he’d get in even bigger trouble. “I don’t have school today, so I don’t know what the problem is.” He snapped out after a slight pause.
“The problem is taking the bike out at night, after I told you not to!” his father continued to argue in a raised voice. “And not informing us of the fact that you were sleeping over at a friend’s house! What the hell are we supposed to think when you just disappear and come back looking like this?”
“The bike tipped over when I was on it,” Aragorn lied once more. “I won’t do it again.”
“Damn right. Because I’m taking the bike back to work and re-selling.”
“No, you can’t!” Aragorn shouted. That motorcycle helped him out so much. He was able to travel throughout the entire Site in one night, which was something he couldn’t do when he walked, and he was able to intervene in quadruple the amount that he could if he had to go everywhere on foot.
“It’s not only that,” Aragorn’s mother chimed in. “Your school called this morning. Your marks have been dropping. A lot. As in you’re failing.”
“I’ll work harder! Just don’t take the bike away!” Aragorn pleaded. They had no diea how much that bike really meant to him.
“I’m sorry son,” his father sighed, not lifting his stance. “Maybe you can have another one next year when you’re older and more mature, and after you’ve gotten your grades back up.”
“Fine, whatever,” Aragorn gave in. He had nothing left to say to them that would convince them. Even if he did tell them the truth, he knew it would just make matters even worse. He turned and stormed out of the kitchen. On his way to his bedroom, he passed the phone and saw a blinking red light on the answering machine. He pressed it.
“I’m calling for Aragorn,” JP3 Girl’s voice filled the hallway. “I waited around for you for two hours. When you never showed up, I realized that I was being an idiot and fooling myself into thinking you were any different then Joxer. Don’t bother calling. I won’t answer.”
“Fuck!” Aragorn shouted loud enough for his neighbors to have heard if they were awake. How on God’s green Earth could he possibly have forgotten about that? He turned and stormed up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door. He threw the bookbag on the floor and lifted up his shirt, slowly removing the bandage and checking the wound.
His eyes glanced at the bookbag, and then to his closed door. He glanced back and forth between the two a few times over. “I can’t be both,” Aragorn said quietly to himself. “One of me is going to have to be no more. There’s not enough space for both Aragorn and Super-Mod.”
He heard a noise from his opened window and glanced out, seeing some guy grab a woman’s purse and run off as she screamed for help.
“I keep this Site safe,” Aragorn continued. “But the members I protect rat me out to the enemies. The Mods that I help, turn on me and spend more time after me then they do on most of the criminals on this Site. I’ve fucked up my family, and I’ve hurt JP3 Girl.” Aragorn looked back at the bookbag with the Super-Mod attire in it, his mind made up. “There is no room on this Site for an unwanted hero.”
Aragorn bent down, grabbing the bookbag, and threw it under the bed. Aragorn went to the phone in his room and dialed a number. Within a minute, JP3 Girl had answered.
“Hey JP3 Girl, it’s me,” Aragorn said into the phone.
He could hear JP3 Girl sigh with frustration over the phone. “I knew I should have checked the Caller I.D.,” she said. “Look Aragorn, I’m really busy and can’t really…”
Cutting her off, Aragorn quickly went into an apology. “I’m so very very sorry. Words can’t express how sorry I am,” he said truthfully. “But my parents…” Aragorn hated having to lie to JP3 Girl, but this would be the last time. Super-Mod was no longer part of his life and he just had to cover for him one last time. “…They wouldn’t let me go and when I tried to go anyway, they took my bike away. I tried to call, but they took the phone out of my room. I really am sorry.”
There were several minutes of silence on the phone. Just when Aragorn began to wonder if JP3 Girl was even still there, her voice came back to him, “Well I do believe in second chances, I guess…” she finally said softly and slowly, as if she already thought that she was going to regret it.
“Great! I swear, you won’t regret it!”
“I better not.”
“How about I make it up to you tonight?” Aragorn asked. “I can’t pick you up on a motorcycle or anything, but we can still hang out. Go to a movie or something.”
“Sure,” JP3 Girl replied, slightly giving up her anger. “Walks can be even more romantic then motorcycles anyway.” Aragorn smiled, thankful that he was able to salvage at least part of his life.
That evening before his date, Aragorn stood in front of his mirror, looking at himself in it as straightened up a fancy shirt, preparing for his date with JP3 Girl. There was a knock on his bedroom door and he looked back at it for a minute, thinking that it was JP3 Girl. Sure, he was supposed to pick her up, but she was usually filled with surprises.
“Come in,” Aragorn called out, trying to hide his uncontrollable excitement. The door opened and Cameron walked in. Aragorn looked at him, surprised and extremely disappointed that ti wasn’t JP3 Girl.
“What are you doing here?” Aragorn asked. It sounded a lot more harsh then he actually meant.
“I have an idea for a new invention, and I wanted to run ti by you first,” Cameron exclaimed excitedly.
“Cameron…” Aragorn didn’t quite know how to break it to him, so he decided to just come out and say it. No beating around the bush. “I’m not going to be Super-Mod anymore. That part of me died last night when I was shot.”
“But…” Cameron tried to argue, but Aragorn was quick to cut him off. Nothing was going to change his mind back now.
“I’m sorry. I can’t protect a Site that doesn’t want the protection. It’s also affected my life way to much. I can’t be both Super-Mod and Aragorn, and seeing as how no one wants Super-Mod around, it wasn’t that hard of a decision. I’ve already salvaged my relationship with JP3 Girl, and now I just have to get my school marks back up and get myself in my parents’ good graces again and everything will be back to the way it was before this stupid idea. No, things will be even better. Super-Mod was just an immature boy’s wild imagination taken too far. Nothing more. I could have died Cameron! That never really hit me before last night. And what happens then? I die and everyone I love; my family, my friends, JP3 Girl, they’d all be hurt. I have to think about them too.”
“What about the public?” Cameron argued back. “You have to protect them or they’ll get hurt too! Only Physically!”
“That’s what the Mods are for,” Aragorn replied coldly.
“But you even said it yourself, most of them are corrupted! The few that aren’t need your help!”
“Why should I defend a public that doesn’t even want me to? I can’t help people if they don’t want to be helped.”
“It’s your job!” Cameron continued. “You have to protect them, because no one else will. If you don’t, people will die.”
Aragorn got a sad, but firm look on his face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already made up my mind. I chose Aragorn over Super-Mod. Super-Mod is gone…forever.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to revive him!” Cameron yelled, but then added more quietly, “For the good of everyone.”
“Cameron,” Aragorn sighed, getting frustrated and fid-up. “It’s over. There’s nothing you can do or say that will change my mind. Now can you please leave? I have a date with JP3 Girl.”
Cameron turned and stormed out of the room without saying another word.
JurassiClaw sat at a table in the criminals’ personal club, but this time there were no girls around him. ‘Bodies’ by Drowning Pool boomed over the speakers as Carna, with part of his face now scarred, found JurassiClaw’s table and sat across from him.
“That fucking kid!” Carna shouted. “Look what he did to my face! He burned RezSez up real bad too.”
“Please, keep your voice down,” JurassiClaw said in a calmed voice. “I’m enjoying this music.” JurassiClaw was quiet for a minute as he tapped his feet to the beat of the music. Carna looked at him impatiently for a minute, before speaking again.
“How the fuck can you be so calm?!” he shouted, ignoring JurassiClaw’s request. “That brat is out there, cutting us off at every turn, and nothing we do stops him! Fuck, not even your Mods could stop him.”
JurassiClaw’s tone stayed the same as he explained, “I can stay calm, because I did not get to where I am today by loosing my cool every time something doesn’t go my way. As for the brat, you need to strike when he’s at his weakest.”
“How can I do that?” Carna asked. Before he could go on, a tall and gangly man in a gigantic coat walked over and opened it up, revealing dozens of different kinds of drugs.
“Can I interest you in some…”
“Get the fuck out of here,” Carna pushed him away. The man closed his jacket and walked off. Carna continued from where he left off, “We don’t know any of his weaknesses.”
“He’s just a boy,” JurassiClaw explained. “Every boy has a weakness. You just need to find it out and exploit it the best way you can.”
2/9/2006 4:19:37 PM
(Updated: 2/9/2006 4:22:07 PM)
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