The OK Team (24 page)

I'm feeling so good about things that I accidentally become vaguely solid and Scorch sees his chance, nostrils aimed to line me up.

‘Hey,' yells Liarbird. She, Yesterday and Torch, who has found his way into the building, can now be seen against the far wall. ‘Scorch, don't look down!'

Scorch does at the exact moment he fires, and burns his foot with his heat blast.

‘Ow!' he says, hoping around. ‘Oww, owww, owwww. I hate it when I do that.'

The henchmen have all been watching this like a football match, fingers itching the triggers of their guns, but unsure which way to fire or what to do. Now, with Liarbird, Torch and Yesterday in the open, they see their chance, and I'm horrified as several of the guns swing away from the glowing chains and towards my friends.

Until one of the tanks – wasn't there only one tank? – the second tank turns red and shakes and pops, suddenly changing into a massive bed mattress covering the sky above all the henchmen, the remaining tank and the jet. As the henchmen swing their guns towards the floating mattress, it turns red, shakes and, POP!, becomes a thick sludge, washing the bad guys and all their weaponry off their feet. It sets hard, trapping them helplessly. Up one end is a multi-coloured mask and a big smile.

‘Nice work, Switchy,' I grin.

‘Now you're really for it,' says Scorch, and he somehow flips his head way, way back – further than a normal neck should enable a head to tilt – as his nose seems to grow until his nostrils are like two car exhaust pipes sticking out of his face.

We watch, astonished, as his entire body begins to glow red and shake as he prepares to fire at Switchy's hardened form.

CHAPTER 31
BETTER THAN OK

W
ay up in the rafters, a young but bold voice hollers, ‘LET'S FIRE THE CANNON!'

My original Hero partner flies like the little cannonball that he is, red circle shining on his chest and black helmet heading straight for Scorch who is tilting his head upside down to get a clear shot at him. The supervillain lets fly with an almighty energy burst, but Cannonball neatly changes his flight path ever so slightly to watch the heat blur past. Scorch fires again, and then lets fly with a constant stream of lightning, but Cannonball is swooping and rising and falling so the bad guy can never quite line him up.

And then Cannonball dips, grabs a bucket of water he just spotted, and dumps it over Scorch's head. Water pours into the Villain's upside-down nostrils and he sneezes violently, sending flaming snot and steam flying in all directions. Scorch flips his head back to where it should be, and what looks like volcanic lava pours out of his nose. He's squealing and crying.

Cannonball plants the bucket on Scorch's head and bonks it with a fist. The vanquished Villain slumps to the ground.

‘Well, that wasn't gross,' says Liarbird.

‘I know it's not my place to say and everything,' says Torch, ‘but you took your time to tackle Scorch, Cannonball.'

Cannonball looks almost sheepish, especially for him. ‘I was worried that if I yelled “Let's fire the cannon”, they would think I meant the ones down here.'

‘Hey, people, guess what? We won!' It's Switchy, changing from giant Silly Putty to a tall, clear-skinned youth of about seventeen. All around him, groaning henchmen are sprawled.

‘We've still got to rescue Mr Fabulous!' I say. ‘Torch, the chains.'

Torch points both hands at the huge pile of glowing chains and lets fly with a blast of fire that burns and melts and roasts every bit as effectively as Scorch's attack. The chains finally give way, crumpling to the ground. All that's left is an empty chair.

‘Torch, you idiot,' says Cannonball. ‘You've melted Mr Fabulous!'

‘Not quite, popgun,' says an old voice.

We all swing around and it's Mr Fabulous, sitting peacefully on top of the fighter jet.

‘You're free!' says Yesterday. ‘I knew you would be.'

‘Hi, girlie. Sure. I didn't want you lot thinking I'd been held captive by this bunch of evil clowns against my wishes. I only stayed trussed up until you got here,' he says, adding, ‘Like those chains would be enough.'

‘Huh?' Cannonball looks confused.

‘Sink or swim, punks, sink or swim.' He looks around. ‘Seems like you can swim. Congratulations.'

‘You let yourself get kidnapped by the bad guys so that we'd come and rescue you?'

‘That's right, Switchy. Scorch had been stalking me since I arrived. When he got together with this bunch of wannabe bad guys, I let them think they'd beaten an old man. Nice move, by the way, becoming a tank. That was clever.'

‘Thanks,' says Switchy, looking proud.

‘Liarbird, great lying.'

‘Thank you,' she says.

‘Ha! And nice honesty,' he says, smiling. ‘Cannonball, you flew beautifully. Torch, you cut the power with magnificent timing.'

‘Wow, thank you,' says Torch shyly, under his hair as ever.

‘Yes, I have to admit I thought I was pretty good,' says Cannonball, chest puffed. ‘Better than a clam.'

Mr Fabulous is looking at me, with a fatherly smile.

‘And Focus, you were brilliant! I take my Triple A cowl off to you.'

I waver in blurriness. ‘Do you mean it? I mean, you've always thought I was crap. You sacked me. You didn't want me in the team.'

‘I never thought you were crap. You just needed some prodding, son. You had to take your own path. You were so busy worrying about everybody else and whether you could be a leader that you had too much pressure to relax and perform. You couldn't find the time or space to believe in yourself.'

‘So being crabby, and kicking us around, even sacking me, was part of some grand plan to make us better?'

‘It's called “tough love”. I told you I've been doing this a long time, kid. Look at you all now – you have real powers.'

He glances at Yesterday. ‘Except for you, obviously, girlie.'

Yesterday looks crushed. Mr Fabulous still has a nasty streak, I decide. Or maybe he's still playing his game. Tough love.

He suddenly flies into the air and floats down to ground level. ‘Meanwhile, we'd better go see how my other project is coming along.'

‘What's that?' I ask.

‘Golden Boy,' Mr Fabulous says simply. ‘You think I only came to Australia to nursemaid a bunch of start-up Heroes?

You and he have a lot in common, Focus.'

‘We do?' I'm stunned.

‘Yeah, he also finds it hard to believe in himself. Today's the day for him . . . or else.'

We make our way out of the old museum to the street.

Police cars are everywhere, the whole region cordoned off, and Mr Fabulous gives the Chief of Police a sign. She barks an order and police officers pour into the building to arrest the bad guys.

I look at the older, more handsome version of Switchy and say to him, ‘What's this look you've got going?'

He grins at me with pure happiness on his face. ‘You know what, Focus? I'm not trying to be anything. This might just be me.'

‘Wow,' I say. ‘How sure are you?'

‘At least 194 per cent,' he smiles.

‘So long, pimply kid,' I say.

And that's when Yesterday suddenly gasps.

‘What?' Cannonball says.

‘I can see it!' she yells, her eyes wide as she looks at Mr Fabulous. ‘I can actually see the future!'

Then her face changes and she looks up.

‘Uh oh,' she says.

CHAPTER 32
IMPACT

W
e peel our eyes to the sky and there it is, the massive meteor, looking bigger than a football field even though it must still be kilometres up.

Coming right at us. Hurtling towards us at an unimaginable speed. With no Heroes between us and it. Seconds until impact.

Numb with disbelief, I have time to think: Goodbye OK Team. Goodbye world.

For an eerie moment nobody says anything, just watching this impossibly huge lump of space rock speeding towards us. Cannonball takes his little sister's hand. Torch looks helpless. Switchy is clever, turning into an air-raid shelter, with a flight of steps leading to potential safety underground. But it is too late for that.

Me? I wonder where Mum and Dad are right now. Then I turn to Liarbird, and reach out a hand that is amazingly solid, given I am moments from death. Her serious grey eyes meet mine and a lot is said without being said.

Could I actually be in love at thirteen years of age? It is unlikely but then again, it doesn't look like I'll be reaching fourteen. Feeling cheesier than the first time I pulled on my superhero outfit, I say softly, ‘I umm, have feelings for you, Liarbird.'

Her eyes widen and I take the moment to reach over and gently tug her wig from her head. Ghost-white hair tumbles down, and Ali Fraudulent is looking at me, shock in her eyes.

‘And I definitely like you, Ali.'

Then her eyes change and she says, ‘You're a moron, Hazy.'

I don't have time to work out whether she is still in lying mode, or telling the truth, before a giant shadow covers us all.

Mr Fabulous seems to have gotten younger all of a sudden. His muscles, usually sagging remnants of past glory, fill his suit. Even more surprisingly, he snarls.

‘Mr Fabulous, survivor of the Golden Age of Heroes, is not about to stand here on a suburban street, half a world away from home, and get taken out by some rock,' he announces. ‘Look out, meteor! Prepare to meet a legend!'

And he takes off like a briefly young rocket, soaring to meet the simply humungous meteor that now pretty much blocks out the whole sky. It is as big as the whole central business district at least, but falling. Fast.

Mr Fabulous becomes smaller and smaller, until he is just a dot rising to meet this enormous shape. Then he collides with it, there is a brief ‘urk' and he tumbles back towards Earth, out cold.

Cannonball lets go of Yesterday's hand and rises to catch the falling nonagenarian. Gently, Cannonball glides back to the ground and lays Mr Fabulous on the footpath. The old man's eyes flicker, roll, then blink twice. He is groggy but awake.