Chapter Six

             Code Black’s laughter echoed through the quad, and the feeling of ferocious zeal was joined by the usual confidence and coolness that came with all the previous Codes.

            His left hand lifted away from his eye, and returned to its position at Code Black’s side. Both hands flexed and stretched in eagerness, and Code Black’s eyes never left where Pu-ao was standing. His breathing was hastened by the energy swirling around, palpable, electric. The tension was building, and everyone was waiting for someone to make the first move. And Spektrum Code Black was enjoying every second of it.

            “From the look on yer face, pipsqueak, I’d say you’re ready for this game to begin!”

            “And just when I thought high school football was over.”

            Code Black’s body tensed up, coiled like a snake, ready to strike. Like lightning, his muscles released without warning. A moment later, Pu-ao took off, headed straight for his oncoming opponent. The two were on a collision course, practically playing a game of chicken. Once within range, Code Black leapt into the air, lunging at Pu-ao.  Code Black caught the leathery lout around the neck in a reverse headlock.

Code Black’s feet swung ahead of him, causing the headlock to wrench the captive’s head downward. Inertia had done its job, and gravity soon kicked in. Code Black’s flying body was pulled to the ground, bringing Pu-ao with him. The top Pu-ao’s skull smacked against the solid dirt of the grass field with a clunking sound, Code Black’s weight acting as the driving force. Pu-ao’s body collapsed right after, lying prone on the ground. Code Black, however, effortlessly rolled to the side and rose to his feet.

            Students gasped and mumbled, because they were unsure if Code Black had already won. But after only a second or two, the questioned was answered by Pu-ao pushing himself up off the dirt floor. To even Code Black’s surprise, Pu-ao brushed off the dirt as casually as if he’d merely tripped on his own.

            “That play almost had me there,” Pu-ao chuckled. “Without my helmet, that would’ve really hurt!”

Pu-ao turned to face Code Black and snorted like a bull.

“But I’ve taken worse during my career in Brutality Ball! And I‘ve done even worse to others!

            “Ya see, the only rule in Brutality Ball is to score and win. You get the Magos ball,” he said as he held his hands up, wrapping them around an imaginary ball that was shaped like a big marshmallow, “and you put it in the goal.”

Now he held his hands to depict the goal as a trapezoidal wire frame.

“Just try to do it without getting trampled!”

            “And I’m guessing you were hardly ever trampled,” Code Black said.

            Pu-ao let out a gruff, triumphant guffaw.

            “You guessed right, human. My team used me as a Barricade and a Tank. I’d smash and block the opposition when they had the Magos, and bust right through even their best defenses when it was with my team! I was all but unstoppable!”

            “So why’d you stop playing?” Code Black asked.

            “Because the League said I couldn’t!”

            “When Pu-ao says he ‘smashed’ and ‘busted’ up his opponents, he means it literally,” Zorb clarified. “The Brutality Ball League’s board of directors thought Pu-ao was… dangerous, even in such a game as that one. They didn’t mind that he was hurting the other players, they just didn’t like that he was retiring other players. You see, Pu-ao’s other nickname is ‘Bone Shards,’ because that’s pretty much all that he left of the other team.”

            “And you’re about to be added to the list!” Pu-ao roared as he rushed Code Black.  Code Black moved to his left when Pu-ao got close, and thrust his fist into the opponent’s gut.  He then withdrew his fist and socked Pu-ao in the jaw, sending the big man off to Code Black’s left a few steps. Code Black continued his roll by pounding body blow after body blow into Pu-ao’s stomach. On punch number five, Pu-ao grabbed Code Black’s arm, then slammed his shoulder into The Spektrum’s.

            Pu-ao then caught Code Black around the waist, lifting him off the ground and running straight for another picnic table. Code Black looked over his shoulder as he was hauled closer to the solid wood-and-steel object. Pu-ao, clad in gear and built like a brick wall, could take a crash, but not Code Black. He beat down on Pu-ao’s back, left fist then right fist, right then left, but there was no slowing Pu-ao down. 

            If only my feet could reach the ground, Code Black thought, I might be able to use them as brakes.

Then an idea came to him.

            He flattened out so that he was parallel with the ground from head to toe. The small swinging motion made Code Black pivot and roll, and he caught Pu-ao around the waist. This shift in weight and momentum finally caused Pu-ao to slow down, and for a split second, Pu-ao stopped in his tracks. Slowly, the odd tower that was the two of them swayed away from the table. Code Black continued to roll, landing on his feet, his body arched backwards. Using all the muscles in his legs, stomach, and arms, Code Black lifted Pu-ao up onto his shoulder, to only drive him to the ground the next moment.

            The back of Pu-ao’s head hit the floor with another clunk, and his body rolled so that he was once again face down in the dirt. And once again, everyone was watching, the students hoping that Pu-ao would stay down, Zorb and Zita hoping he’d get up. As quick as a hiccup, Pu-ao lunged up from where he was, and drove his padded shoulder hard into Code Black’s gut.

            The Spektrum could feel the air rush out of him, and he felt as if his stomach was crushed like a soda can. Again, he was lifted off the ground, and again Pu-ao charged at the picnic table. Regardless of what damage may have been done to him, Pu-ao still moved as if he were at 100%! With a horrible crunching and creaking, Code Black was pushed into and through the wooden picnic table, steel supports and all.

            Pu-ao rose from the wreckage, only a little scratched on the few areas of bare skin. But as soon as the pain dulled and Code Black could open his eyes, he realized he wasn’t so lucky. His left pants leg was torn up, and a good sized cut was bleeding all over it. To add to that, Code Black was sure his right shoulder was cut and bleeding, too.

            The Spektrum struggled to get out of the rubble that was a table, his body racked with pain. Pu-ao gloated and guffawed, his large figure towering over him, his snobbish arrogance infuriating Code Black. When Code Black’s anger and Pu-ao’s haughty laughter reached their limits. The Spektrum lashed out, kicking Pu-ao in the knee with the heel of his boot.

            Pu-ao’s knee joint, like an average human’s, bends only one way, and Code Black’s kick made it go the other way. Pu-ao’s knee buckled, causing him to fall down in pain. Code Black got on his knees, and cocked his right arm back like it was set on a spring. When spring released, Code Black’s fist hit the bottom of Pu-ao’s chin in an uppercut. The sudden strike made Pu-ao snap back and stumble away.

            Code Black got back to his feet, even though a searing pain shot through his left leg. He hoped one of his powers was accelerated healing, or else the wounds he just got would be hard to explain to his parents and friends. Code Black limped closer to Pu-ao, feeling the blood slowly exit the wound in his left thigh. He took aim at Pu-ao’s swaying head, waiting for it to come back within reach.

When Pu-ao came close again, Code Black punched him as hard as he could in the side of his helmeted head, making a sound like a small gong. This sent Pu-ao stumbling and staggering away, but still standing. Pu-ao was swaying as he tried to stay on his feet, and he moved close to Code Black. This time, Code Black used his foot, and booted Pu-ao in the face, catching his nose and upper lip with the sole of his shoe.  He could hear the bigger man let out a muffled grunt from behind his boot. Pu-ao, for the third time, fell flat to the floor, this time on his back.

            And this time, Pu-ao didn’t play possum. He rolled to his side, shook his head in an attempt to shake off his disorientation. He got to his knees, then to his feet, and grunted in frustration. Apparently, he thought Code Black would’ve been a quick victory, and was now upset by his mistaken assumption.

            “I’m gonna flatten you out!” Pu-ao roared as he rumbled at The Spektrum like a freight train. “Stampede, Stomp!”

Pu-ao ran at Code Black headlong, prepared to use his oblong brass helmet as a battering ram. Code Black borrowed Code Yellow’s opening move against Smooth and side-stepped the charging wall of leather, then grabbed him around the collar. Code Black reeled Pu-ao back and caught him in a sleeper hold. The Spektrum’s arm tightened around Pu-ao’s neck like an anaconda trying to squeeze the life out of its prey. Pu-ao struggled to escape, but Code Black’s muscles were locked in place.

            “The way I was fighting you before,” Code Black said with no strain in his voice, despite holding Pu-ao’s entire strength back with only one arm, “it was as if you were leather: tough; durable; taut. Nothing I could do or think off would rip, tear, or break you.  But then I remembered: you’re not leather, you’re a person! A living, breathing, thing!”

Code Black squeezed and wrenched Pu-ao’s throat. 

“And if you can’t breathe, you can’t live!”

            The furious enthusiasm was welling up inside of Code Black once more. But it wasn’t the returning cheers of the crowd that filled him with it, no. It was the knowledge that victory was close at hand. It was the fact that he could actually feel it drawing closer, as Pu-ao neared unconsciousness with every exhaled breath. It was from the prospect of adding such a challenging, impressive opponent to the list of those defeated by none other than him!

            “Luckily for you, I don’t need to kill you to win!”

            As sudden as a flash of light, Code Black released Pu-ao, turned him around, and clasped his right hand over the large leathery man’s throat, gripping it like a handle.  The same darkly ecstatic laughter from before burst from Spektrum Code Black’s mouth, and that fire red eye widened with joy, as his hand lifted Pu-ao off his feet, and his free left hand assisted by tossing Pu-ao’s lower half up by the pants waist.  With both sides, left and right, working independently as such, Pu-ao became parallel with the ground, if only for a single, horrifyingly entertaining moment. Then, the right hand brought the suffocating steamroller down by the neck, and the big man plummeted to the ground. When Pu-ao hit his terminal velocity, the fastest he would drop, the hand released him from its grip, and Pu-ao crashed into the soil and grass with blunt, crumpling sound. All this was Code Black’s Signature move: The Choke Slam. And from lift-off to the crash landing, Code Black’s face was a twisted mixture of hate and happiness. 

            Code Black, face now calm, not yet blank, covered the fallen freight train, and Computer counted audibly.

            “One… Two… Three. The winner is… Spektrum Code Black.” 

            The Spektrum rose to his feet, his red eye watching Zorb, whose golden alley cat eyes were burning with returning annoyance and disappointment. Not even his latest choice, who was the toughest challenge yet, was tough enough to stop the human hero.

            The two adversaries kept their eyes on the other. Code Black wanted Zorb to fight this war himself, but knew it wouldn’t happen any time soon. The two could sense everything around them, the crowds of students, the security guards sifting their way through those crowds, Zita watching, waiting intently for her leader’s orders, her rosy pink eyes darting between the terrifying victor and her livid lover.

            Zorb let out a sigh of exasperation, releasing the pressure that was anger inside of him, he looked down at Pu-ao, who still had not yet gotten off his back and up from the floor. The former athlete refused to make eye contact, ashamed of himself.

            “Go ahead,” Zorb said to Zita with a nod. 

            At his command, Zita pressed the teleportation button that was her earring. The group of three aliens, Zorb, Zita, and the disheveled and defeated Pu-ao, were surrounded by light, and they vanished from the quad.

            Code Black limped back to the entrance of the hall, and he could tell that his leg wound and shoulder cut were no longer bleeding. The students and campus security moved aside to let him pass, partially out of respect, partially out of fear. Some of these students had never seen anyone win a fight the way The Spektrum just did. Of course, the students had no reason to be afraid of Code Black, because he wouldn’t harm them.  But they could not help it, it was human nature to be at least slightly scared of someone who was laughing as they beat another person up. 

            When Code Black entered the hall, more students moved out of his way as he headed for the restroom again, this time, to change back.

            “Where do you think you’re going, Spektrum?” called an obnoxious voice that sounded somewhat familiar.  Code Black turned to find that the caller was Craig, the jerk Junior from yesterday’s first meeting of The Spektrum Fan Club.

            “Inside to change, what else?” Code Black said with indifference.

            “Well,” Craig said as he and some friends blocked Code Black’s way, “before you go, I think I need to show you something.”

            Craig took out his flip cell phone and played a video. It was footage of Simon transforming into Code Black, flash of light and all!

            Simon was taken aback, yet he did not feel his body react to the shock. Simon now realized that the sound of the restroom door closing before was of Craig leaving with proof of who he was! Was Craig planning to use the Code Black footage to blackmail The Spektrum? Without knowing he had even thought about doing it, his hand reached out, grabbed Craig’s cell phone, and crunched it in his hand as easy as a saltine.

            “You wanted to show me your crumpled cell phone?” Code Black said automatically as he let the broken piece of technology drop to the floor.

            What did I just do?! Simon yelled inside his mind, shocked by his own instinctual behavior.

            “What-?! You little bas--”

            Craig got out only that much before a pair of students stepped in between them. It was Cyndi and Caitlin! 

            “Caitlin?! What’re you--?!”

            “Spektrum, is this guy bothering you?” Caitlin asked over her shoulder.

            “No,” Code Black responded. “He was just showing me something he thought I’d like; turns out I didn’t.”

            “Well, then, I guess Craig should let you pass then, right?” 

            Caitlin glared at Craig and his friends. All Cyndi could do was furrow her forehead in dislike and disgust at the audacity of Craig and his friends getting in her hero’s way.

            Reluctantly, Craig and his friends moved out of the way of the restroom door, and the girls let their hero through. Before closing the door, Code Black looked into Cyndi’s eyes with his coffee brown left eye and ruby red right eye.

            “Thanks,” he said to the young fan girl, who visibly beamed with glee at being addressed directly by her hero.

            “You’re welcome,” Cyndi replied.

            Once the door closed, Code Black made his way to the nearest mirror. He could see that his shoulder wound was indeed no longer bleeding. Now was the moment of truth: did such injuries fade or disappear altogether when he changed back? He knew from the last four fights that bruises faded after changing back, but he did not know about cuts like the one in his leg.

            “Toggle Appearance!”

            Another flash of black light, and the now torn black jeans became his perfectly intact blue jeans, his elbow pads and gloves disappeared, his boots became sneakers, and he felt no soreness or pain in the areas that were cut open. His black hair had returned to its slightly lighter coffee brown, and both eyes were brown again. Almost no trace of the fight was left on Simon, other than the fatigue and memories. 

            The students had cleared out from the area in front of the restroom under the orders of teachers and security. Simon stepped out into the hall tentatively, in case Craig, Caitlin or Cyndi were still hanging back. Simon didn’t want Craig to start yelling that he was right, and he didn’t want the girls from the club to know the truth either, because of the first rule: anyone knowing the hero’s true identity is a dangerous thing.  And letting even one of those three could mean trouble for him in one way or another.

            Simon didn’t find them outside, so he headed off back to Room 243 to grab his things. On the way, he overheard a group of students talking about seeing Code Black.

            “And then he turned and went, ‘Not for long.’”

            “Oh, that’s totally a good line!”

            “That’s what I told Julian.”

            Julian? Simon turned to look, and indeed, it was his friends Alex, Julian, Bryan, and Nick, walking in the general direction of their usual meeting place, the bleachers in the quad in front of the left Science Wing stairwell. He realized that his friends were the same group of students who Code Black questioned in the hall. How could Simon not recognize his own friends, even though he had become The Spektrum? Was Code Black really that different from the other Codes that he’d ignore details like that?  Simon contemplated this new realization as he went up the opposite set of stairs to reach Room 243.

            Cyndi and Caitlin had returned to the room just as Simon arrived. 

            “Oh, Simon, there you are,” Cyndi cheerfully greeted.

            No doubt the high she got from being thanked by her hero was still adding to her mood.

            “Caitlin and I went looking for where you went.”

            “Yeah, this is the second time you went off somewhere without telling us,” the older girl added.

            “Oh, sorry about that,” he apologized. 

            Simon hoped this unavoidable trend would not make the two girls suspicious.  That was another rule of being a superhero he had forgotten: anyone who isn’t around when the hero is, is suspected of being that hero. Of course, this was the easiest one to keep unbroken, since the defense is that there are sure to be many people absent when the hero appears.

            “I had to use the restroom, and when I came back, you two were gone, so I went back out looking for you two.”

            “Really?” piped Jen, who was sitting by the window, unnoticed by Simon until now. “How come I didn’t see or hear you?”

            “Because,” Sarah answered, “you and I were too busy watching Code Black fighting that big guy in the football gear.” 

            Thank you, Sarah, Simon thought with relief.

            “Of course, that’s right.”

            “Code Black?” asked Cyndi.

            “Yeah, remember?” Jen responded. “A form of The Spektrum is called a ‘Code,’ and this time he was in all black, so ‘Spektrum Code Black.’”

            “Oh, cool,” Caitlin commented.

            Caitlin sat down, eager to talk more about the fight than everyone’s alibis. Cyndi, however, stayed standing and reviewed everything that had been said. She knew Simon entered the room quietly at the beginning of lunch, so he could easily enter quietly a second time. And when someone has to go, they have to go. So she left it at Simon’s word that he was in the nearby restroom located on the same floor and not some other restroom, like the one where people just saw Code Black. She then sat down with Caitlin and the other girls, Simon not far behind.

 

            It was later that day at home, after finishing his trigonometry homework that Simon returned to the subject of why his friends’ likenesses did not register with Code Black. It had to have been because he was focused on the job of defeating Pu-ao. He was convinced that that was the reason.

            No, that wasn’t why, Simon countered himself as he rolled on his bed. 

            Simon would have recognized his friends, since he’d known most of them since Middle School. Simon knew that he was better with faces than names, so he couldn’t have forgotten someone’s face.

            So what was the real reason?

            Could it be that Code Black didn’t care about anything other than the fight?  This was a possible reason, remembering the strange laughter that had erupted from within him; laughter that was somehow both cheerful and angry. In fact, it felt down-right dark and sadistic. Hell, it didn’t even feel like he was laughing at the time. Were Simon’s worries of a “berserker Code” coming true? And so soon? It had been only a week at most since first gaining these powers, and Simon already had to worry about some side of him that was a maniacal monster!

            Simon felt as panic-stricken as he had when he went over the “Hero Rules” a few days before. Remembering that feeling only added to his bad mood. Now not only did he have to separate himself from love because of his secret, but because he may be 20% berserker. In a bizarre way, this notion of dividing himself up by five was funny. Perhaps, despite his maintaining a whole identity as Simon/The Spektrum, he was in some way several personalities. He already knew of how different he felt being one Code versus the others, that his “mindset,” as he referred to it, was different. Perhaps a change in mindset is all that was needed to become a different person.

            As with the “love life” issue, this new “multiple forms” issue was one that had the potential to make a person’s brain breakdown. So before that happened, Simon decided to stop thinking about it and just hope Code Black didn’t get any scarier.

            Later that night, during dinner, there was a report on the news about his alter ego, The Spektrum. Some pictures and low quality videos were shown as proof that San Leandro, California, did indeed have its very own superhero, as well as alien villains. It seemed Craig wasn’t the only one who snagged digital souvenirs of their real-life science fiction series. The anchor even had an interview video involving one of the students from San Leandro High!

            “So you claim you know who The Spektrum really is?” asked the female field reporter.

            “Yes, yes I do!” proclaimed the student. 

            It was Craig! Again, Simon almost coughed up his scoop of rice. Craig continued with his claims.

            “I did have a video of him changing back to who he really is-”

            “Excuse me, did?” the reporter interrupted.

            “Yeah, see, The Spektrum crunched my cell phone!”

            Craig was now burning with anger.

            “Why did he crush your phone?”

            “Uh… Because…”

Craig obviously wanted to reveal the truth about the local hero, but instead he was going to have to reveal the truth about himself.

“I showed him the video in an attempt to blackmail him…”

            “Wh-what?! How dare you try and manipulate someone who is saving people, including you, from those alien criminals!” 

            The reporter and camera man left to find others to interview. Craig stammered on about still being able to identify The Spektrum’s true self, but he was ignored by the media.

            The anchor back at the station said that reports had come in from all over America claiming similarly strange things, all of them happening between the power surge and today. One involved a half-shark, half-dinosaur that vandalized a high school in Ohio. Another report was from New York about a lone fighter single handedly taking down half a dozen members of a notorious street gang known as The Sons of Brooklyn, or the S.O.Bs.

            A third report came from Alameda, California, with rather low quality pictures of a girl with cat ears and a tail breaking up school yard fights and capturing pranksters, but not even local witnesses could be sure if she was like the mutant dinosaur or the New York vigilante, and there were many who doubted these reports and others were as “super” as The Spektrum. The half-shark, half-dinosaur came close, but that was thought more of as a “Man messes with Nature and creates monster” story.

            Nonetheless, the fact that all these odd things were happening at the same time was likely to be more than just coincidence. Simon felt sure that it was that same power surge that hit his house and turned him into his created character; technically, characters, but the idea was the same. These other heroes, or villains in the case of the rampaging dino-shark, may have been made by the surge.

            Simon went to bed that night, his imagination buzzing. What does the dino-shark look like? Was it really just one guy that beat that gang? Was the girl with cat ears really part cat or just wearing some kind of costume? For that matter, was the “cat girl” cute?

            In his sleep, Simon dreamt of her, the mysterious catgirl, perhaps the only girl who was hit by the surge, just like him; the one girl he had something in common with, that he had a chance with. He approached her from behind, prepared to ask her something, anything. He wanted to hold her, to hear her say that she felt the same, that she knew how lonely their lives would be without being able to fall in love, that they could save each other from that fate. He could imagine how beautiful she must be, fit and lean from fighting bad guys, even if they were just small time punks and bullies.  He touched her shoulder and she turned around. He looked into her eyes and saw…

            “Cyndi?!” Simon shouted, though not with his real mouth.

            Instead of Catgirl, Cyndi stood there in front of him, cat ears popping out from her shoulder length blonde hair. She leaned in close, and embraced him. Cyndi’s blonde hair brushed against his neck, and the cat tail swished back and forth. She puckered her lips and…

            Simon woke up suddenly, confused by what his dream meant. True, he liked the dream, or at least, that was the feeling he felt as it was happening. Catgirl was one thing, but Cyndi? He turned to look at his alarm clock radio. It was only 3 AM, three hours earlier than he needed to be awake. As he settled back into his bed, he tried to keep his mind off either of the two girls; even Catgirl, just in case Cyndi showed up again.