PROLOGUE
Large hands coolly brushed away the dust on his suit. Though it hadn’t been his suit, and it didn’t fit just yet, Jason supposed he would grow into it. But even if he didn’t, that didn’t particularly matter to him.
He only had to wear it for one day.
Jason adjusted the tie, which had been his, in the mirror of Captain’s old bedroom. He swept his hair to the side, which he usually did, only this time he had used pomade to give it shape. Special occasion, he supposed. His fingers rose to the space just beneath his eyes to fix the purple rubber mask that obscured the upper half of his face, specifically his eyes.
This funeral was not going to be easy, and the press conference would be even harder. But Jason supposed that attending the funeral of a man you murdered was never going to be that simple.
A slender finger tapped him on the shoulder. “They’re ready for you. Every news station is out there.” Jules flipped her black hair behind her neck as she spoke, clearly disinterested.
“Thanks, Jules.” He clapped her on the shoulder politely. She didn’t respond.
“Are you going to wear the mask during the service?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Secret identity.” He replied, tapping his rubber-clad temple as though it were the most obvious and simultaneously the most intelligent idea in the world. This facetious remark only elicited an eye roll from Jules.
“Just go.” She waved him off the same way you’d wave a fly away from a meal. Jason grinned and stepped out of the bedroom. The sound of his suede shoes clanging against the metallic floor filled the hallway. On the second floor, he could see the living room beneath him,including the old, derelict couch whereon Retriever sat. Jason noticed, as all observant people would, that Retriever’s suit didn’t fit quite right either. It wasn’t too large for him—quite the opposite, actually—the suit was practically bursting at the seams. Jason reasoned that he looked presentable enough. He’d just have him stand off to the side during the broadcast.
Taking a breath, Jason descended the staircase, walked past Retriever in the living room, and stepped out into the sunlight for the first time since Captain Fearless had died.
Instantly, he was swarmed by news outlets and other such tabloids. Vague questions were the only thing he could hear being thrown at him, and he welcomed it.
The pavement made a crrk noise underneath his shoes. Before him, he saw the platform that gave way to the podium, as he was being blinded by a line of cameras and news reporters. With a faint smile, he stepped onto the platform and behind the podium. For a minute, he felt like a god. He smiled, for you see, Jason saw himself as the sun, and every camera and microphone and journalist was a flower, a blade of grass, or a leafy tree, begging to hear him speak, “I am the sun!” I am! I am! I am!
The microphone made a horrible screeching noise when he tapped it. By now, Retriever and Jules had both settled in at his sides—Retriever on his right and Jules on his left, so that the camera could truly see Jules as his right-hand man. Jason cleared his throat and leaned forward so that the microphone was only slightly closer.
“It is with a heavy heart that I, as well as my team, confirm the death of our leader, Captain Fearless.” When he said this, he did not look down on the people anymore.
“Captain was a joy to all who knew him. A loving husband, father, and asset to protecting these streets.” By now the crowd had quieted down. Retriever, who had been nothing short of a rock, covered his face with the palm of his large hand and began to quietly weep. Jason hoped that the sound would not be picked up by any microphones.
“He passed from complications after an injury he received in battle. He was surrounded by friends and family, including all of us here at Fearless. I think the public will be happy to know that he was not in any pain in the days leading up to his death.”
His hands gently gripped onto the sides of the podium, evoking—perhaps only to himself—images of United States presidents. A flash photograph snapped, causing Jules to take a step back.
“I wouldn’t have chosen anyone else to have at my side. Which brings me to my next point,” he began, placing a hand on Jules’ shoulder. “I, Neverfear, have stepped up as leader of The Fearless, and I’ve appointed NTWRK as my right-hand woman.”
Another flash. Jules blinked, slightly startled. Jason grinned, leaned over, and murmured, “I bet you wish you were wearing a mask now.” She stepped back, unamused and shaken with disappointment, dipping her head and repositioning herself.
“Captain Fearless is going to have a small, private service after this conference. We hope that currently you will respect our decisions to remain quiet. God bless America.”
With that, he took a step off the platform and headed back in the direction of the house. Jules stayed behind to finish answering questions as Retriever followed behind like the royal hound he is.
He didn’t listen to her answers, though.
ONE
Jason loved the smell of a good fight.
He’d been aching for once for a while now. Ever since Captain had passed, he’d only been advised to take it easy. But you just couldn’t keep Jason Roberts away from a good fight.
Take it easy. Who did they think they were? This was his life.
Returning to the field after so long—which most people would reason was only a month and some odd days—was just the thing he needed. He was through with mourning, and now it was time to return to his true purpose. Which, at this particular moment, was stopping a bank robbery.
He ran down the street, unable to keep the big grin away from his face. In tow, Retriever and NTWRK followed. He glanced behind quickly and wondered if they should have had a speedster on their team. No, he couldn’t. He hated speedsters—if only for the fact that they usually lacked all other skills besides running slightly faster than everyone else.
Maybe wings. He liked people that could fly. Captain Fearless could fly.
Jason had been thinking of employing another hero—three just didn’t look as good as four. Bitterly, he remembered how four had once been five. And five, six.
He didn’t want to think about that, although a new member on the team was a good idea.
He picked up the pace a little more until his hands made contact with the perp’s back. When he did so, they both tackled the ground.
Retriever rushed past the pair at another masked man, quickly having turned his hands and feet to paws, his skin to blond fur, and all features becoming otherwise canine. Jason preferred not to look at this process—it freaked him out. Not many things could disturb a man who professionally dabbled in nightmares.
It was the lack of transformation of a man to an animal that bothered him. You could never look at Retriever and know that he was completely either. In his humanity, he looked canine. As a hound, he spoke fluent English, as if it were a dog’s native language. Maybe he could find a hero who blended the two in a less horrifying way? Now that… that didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Shaking his head, he returned his focus to the man underneath him. He wiggled desperately to come free from his grip, but Jason shut that down quickly. He gripped onto the man’s front piece of hair, lifted his head, and bluntly forced it into the pavement. The man blinked his eyes shut, and his fingers uncurled around the bag of money. He had not killed the man, only wounded him, which was enough. Jason, pleased with himself, grinned and swiftly picked up the discarded bag.
He looked to his left. Retriever, now a fully formed large dog, had the perpetrator in the middle of his jaws and was thrashing his head back and forth—an action that made his tail wag furiously.
He looked to his right. NTWRK had flung a car battery into the stomach of their third guy. Simple, not too violent, and effective. He had always admired that about her.
“Three down,” he announced to no one in particular. “None to go.”
SKRRRRTTTTT!
“No. No!” He shot up from the ground, watching as a black sedan raced down the street at top speeds. Even at his fastest running distance, he wouldn’t catch up with the vehicle. He slammed his fist against the ground, which NTWRK noticed. She cleared her throat as if to say, “Pull it together, Neverfear.”
A getaway car! Of course, the robbers weren’t just going to run away with lump sum bags of money in their hands. They could have easily taken down the car and the driver inside. This wasn’t an act of being outsmarted—no, no. They had been outnumbered.
Still staring ahead, Jason hardly noticed the police sirens, nor the officer that pulled his guy out from under him. The thoughts, once at the very forefront of his mind, had now been pushed back in favor of one singular idea:
The Fearless needed a fourth member. And they needed one now.
TWO
Finding a new hero that fit Jason’s expectations was, needless to say, one of the most difficult things any human or human-adjacent creature had ever gone through.
A standard interview process wasn’t what he needed. Anyone could simply lie their way up on a job application—God, where would they ever put that sort of thing up—and get into The Fearless through deceptive means.
No… Jason needed—rather, the team needed—to see things in action. Actions spoke louder than words, as his old Captain would say.
So, really, what was the harm in staging an accident?
He had initially planned to stage something trivial. A bank robbery, a shoplifting attempt—something that could easily be thwarted and would thus attempt to evoke heroism among individuals like himself and The Fearless. Only…people didn’t really care about those sorts of things—except for the police force, of course, but what good were they here? Money, cars, clothing items were just things. But lives in danger? That was when people rose to the occasion. The real heroes.
The fearless ones.
So, Jason found himself on the roof of Fearless Headquarters, throwing a ball for Retriever as if he were just a regular yellow furred dog, no different from one you’d find in the park or on the sidewalk. If Jason imagined hard enough, he could pretend that Retriever, in this form, really was just a normal dog.
It was fun enough. Not exactly productive or anything, but it tired both him and Retriever out— and that was all he could ask for. This was one of those odd moments where Jason was not wearing his rubber mask to obscure his identity. Supervillains and bank robberies tended not to happen at the top floor of his home.
But what did happen— as would happen on all high buildings, inevitably— was that Jason had lost his footing. A simple mistake that could have happened to anyone.
Though he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wished it had been the sprinting dog man.
In a minute, his foot gave out from under him, and he was falling. Perhaps a hundred feet, a thousand, maybe a hundred thousand. He couldn’t remember the exact height of the headquarters, but three things were certain. He was falling. Nobody was coming to save him. And the minute his body found purchase with solid ground; he’d be dead.
A man faced with mortality such as this had very few thoughts. Part of him resented Retriever at that moment. Part of him resented his choice of footwear. Part of him missed Captain Fearless. But most of all, he knew that if he were to die— and he would die— it would be out of his mask. His identity would go public. The Fearless would be down to two members and— Good God, this was a long drop.
He took one last look at the sky, watching as the clouds as well as the top of the headquarters got further and further away. He had to be close to the ground now. So, saying a silent goodbye to the world, Jason closed his eyes and…
… felt arms hook underneath his armpits.
SWOOSH. SWOOSH. The unmistakable flutter of wings— wings too large to belong to any bird living today. Either Jason had stumbled upon a living fossil, or his wish had come true.
His eyes opened and he realized that the ground was getting further away. Trees began to shrink, and a quick glance up confirmed his suspicions. The girl was young, maybe 15 or 16 at the oldest— but she could fly. Her eyes were set forward as the pair came closer to the top of the building, where she gently laid him down in the center.
Retriever’s paws kicked up until he was at Jason’s side, nudging his face with his wet nose and gently licking it back to life. Jason, though flattered, found this disgusting.
The girl gently pushed Retriever away. He growled but backed off (if only slightly). Jason sat up and finally got a proper look at her. She was shorter than him— maybe 5’5 or so— with tanned skin and dark hair, contrasted by two white pieces that fell down the sides of her face like feathers.
But the real showpiece— the thing that made her an absolute cynosure— were the large avian wings that sprouted from the middle of her back. They started out bistre at the very top, and faded to a khaki color at the bottom feathers. Jason thought they resembled that of a large vulture.
They set her apart. They made her avant. They made her fearless.
“Who are you?” Jason asked, bewildered despite himself.
The girl smiled softly, seemingly relieved that he was showing signs of life, and answered “Mandi.”
He braced both palms on her shoulders.
“Vulturess.” He corrected. “Your name is Vulturess.”
Mandi tilted her head, still wearing that little smile. “Mandi Black, sir.”
He shook his head, leaned in closer.
“You saved me. You saved Neverfear. Do you realize what you’ve just done for the team? The city? The world as a whole?”
Mandi raised a brow. “I guess… not.” She replied, brushing his hands off of his shoulders. “Geez, sir, were you trying to kill yourself or something?” She asked. “If I hadn’t been flying around, you’d have been dead.”
Jason couldn’t disagree with that. “I’ve never seen you around this part,” he commented, intrigued…“What brings you… soaring?”
Mandi sighed and pulled away a little. “Parents kicked me out. I was trying to get far away from… well, everything.” She confessed, looking him up and down. “Thank God I got here when I did, huh?” She stifled a nervous chuckle.
“Thank God indeed,” he concurred, rubbing his chin in deep thought. “Mandi, have you ever heard of The Fearless?”
Mandi’s smile returned. “Who hasn’t?”
Jason, in return, smiled back. “I’ll keep this short. Mandi, you saved my life without knowing if you even could. You dove right into the heart of a life-or-death situation and that makes you fearless. We need a fourth member, and I think you’re the one I’m looking for, Mandi.” He put his hand back on her shoulder. “Just a little while, see if you like it. I’d never force you to stay if you didn’t want to, of course, but I can promise you free room and board here.” His voice was no less firm than usual when he suggested this, but this time he could see that it was working in his favor.
“Room and board?” She asked politely.
“Every living expense covered. Courtesy of yours truly.” If nothing else, he reasoned, a teenager needed a place to live. Not even the most rebellious ones rejected an offer like this.
The pair were quiet for a while. Eventually, she stood up and offered her hand in order for him to regain his balance. “I’ll do it.”
His faint smile turned into a half-grin. His hand curled around hers and the pair stood at their full heights. Retriever gently nudged his nose against Mandi’s leg, taking a quick sniff before deciding that she was, in fact, a friend.
The pair began walking to the door leading towards the roof entrance, Retriever on their heels like a loyal hound. The walk wasn’t long at all, but it gave Jason a lot to think about. A fourth person on the team was excellent.
And she had literally fallen out of the sky.
THREE
Mandi was almost perfect in every way.
She didn’t overstep boundaries. She was quiet, respectful, mindful of her space and surroundings. Most teenagers were god-awful when it came to being rude and having the worst possible attitudes, but Mandi was sweet and eager to please. She reminded Jason of a younger version of himself, back before he had been Neverfear but still taken under his Captain’s wing.
Despite her perfection… Jason found it hard to deny that her presence was causing problems. Retriever got along with her fine, and Jason himself hardly interacted with most people as it was, but Jules was somehow finding an issue with everything the girl did. She didn’t leave enough milk in the gallon or folded a shirt the wrong way.
He had to admit, it was getting ridiculous.
Jason mostly chose not to spend personal time with the team if he could avoid it. Training didn’t count as personal time to him. Anything that didn’t directly benefit The Fearless or society as a whole was pointless. The only bits of petty drama he got were from Jules talking his ear off in the control center. And with her promotion, Jules had been spending a lot more time in the center. Or, at least, she claimed it was due to the promotion.
Tonight, though, Jules was quiet.
Jason didn’t mind. Silence was better than listening to an overgrown teenager bellyache the same topic over and over. So, he continued busying himself at their computers before a beep startled him out of his trancelike state.
“Lock-up time.” He declared, to which Jules did not respond. He stood up from his chair and grabbed a leash from the hook on the back of the door and descended the staircase. At the bottom, Mandi and Retriever were watching The Matrix. Jason had never seen the movie himself, but he could understand simple minded individuals finding entertainment from it.
He folded his arms at the bottom of the staircase, the leash hanging from the middle phalanxes of his fingers. He cleared his throat to announce his presence, to which Retriever immediately stood at attention.
The dog-man may have freaked him out but damn it if he wasn’t a loyal soldier. “Lock-up time,” Retriever declared, as if proud that he had remembered.
“Is that your weird military way of saying it’s time for bed?” Mandi teased, folding a blanket up over the couch. Jason stared, puzzled for a moment before the realization dawned on him that Mandi had never been there for lock-up time.
“It’s bedtime for you and me. It’s lock-up time for Retriever.” He corrected, attaching the leash to the collar fastened around Retriever’s neck. “He has to be chained up at night. He transforms when he sleeps, can’t control it.”
That had been a lie. As far as Jason was aware, Retriever never transformed while unconscious. It just gave him peace of mind, for one thing, and it granted him the small bit of control over a being much too idiotic and trusting to challenge otherwise.
Mandi looked at Jason a little skeptically when he said this, but didn’t comment otherwise. Satisfied, Jason turned the corner and led Retriever to his bedroom by the leash. The room itself was pretty bare— which Jason didn’t care much for— but the distinction between this room and the other rooms was an installed pole in the left corner, closest to the iron-barred window and the farthest from the door. Just the way he’d designed it.
Once inside, he tied the leash around the pole until it was tightened enough to keep him in place without strangling him. Retriever gave a happy smile and Jason— albeit reluctantly— scratched the side of his hair.
He turned away, wiping the stench of dog off his hand and the smile off his face. The door closed behind him with a click, and he once again ascended the staircase to the control center. That was when he noticed Mandi leaving the room, her expression troubled. If he had cared, he would have stopped her. But he knew that this was probably just some girl thing that he didn’t understand, so he wouldn’t pry. However, he was certain, without a doubt, that Jules had something to do with it.
He stood at the door, his frame casting a long shadow over the room. Jules noticed this, but didn’t turn around. “Hello, Jason.”
Jason didn’t smile or offer any sort of friendly reaction. “Did Mandi stop by here?” He asked the question the same way a parent would ask a guilty child— rhetorically and with the preparation to correct them should they answer wrong.
“She had a question about Retriever’s lock up time.” Jules still did not turn around when she said this. “Why didn’t you go over it with her before?”
Jason scowled, pinching the bridge of his rubber-clad nose. “Forgive me. I taught her just about fourteen million other things and assumed my second in command could provide more help than whatever she’s doing.”
Jules finally turned around just to roll her eyes. “I’m working. I am always working.”
Jason folded. “Oh, yeah, working. That’s why you’ve been avoiding Mandi like the plague since she showed up…”. He just wasn’t buying this.
“Yeah, that’s what you’re not getting.” She stood up, crossing the room to stand before him. “She just showed up. Some of us actually worked to get here.” He let out a scoff when she said that.
“That’s not the real reason. I know you, Jules, better than anyone else.” He shot back.
Jules deflated a bit and looked down at the floor like a guilty dog. “She’s asking questions. About you. Questions that I don’t know the answer to because I am running out of excuses.”
He softened slightly, raising a brow. “What could you possibly have to excuse me for?” Oh God.
“I know about Captain.” He’d been hoping she wouldn’t say that. “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did it. Every time I think about it, my brain turns to static like something is intercepting a signal— but I KNOW it was you. And I’ve been keeping quiet because, frankly, you’re a better leader than he is.”
“Watch your tongue!” he chided, the words like venom. “You don’t know what you’re implying!” God, why did she have to say that?
“I’m not implying a damn thing!” she replied, her voice slightly shaky. “You did something, I know you did. And if you lose your footing, Mandi is gonna know too.” The words were left unsaid, but Jason got the feeling that Mandi would not be as kind in regards to his little secret.
“Every time…” he murmured. “You come to this conclusion every time.” He reached up, extending two fingers to his temple and focusing his gaze on Jules’ eyes.
She didn’t look startled anymore. Jules fell into a trance, her jaw slacking somewhat while her once-determined eyes glazed over. “If I had any sense, I’d have killed you myself by now,” Jason murmured, scrubbing his palms over his face as if tired. Jules doesn’t speak for a while, before snapping out of the trance. She glanced about the room before settling her gaze on Jason.
“Back to work,” he ordered. “I’ll see you in the morning, Julienne. Goodnight.”
Jules turned around and headed back to her station. Jason, satisfied with this interaction, closed the door behind him as he left. He headed back to his bedroom to contemplate things.
It was getting harder and harder to keep this lie up, especially with Jules. He didn’t like intercepting a mind unless he absolutely had to, since he didn’t know the long-term repercussions of it.
Maybe Mandi hadn’t been the blessing in disguise he’d thought after all.
Haley Brill lives in Northeast Philly and attends Franklin Towne Charter Highschool, and has always loved writing short stories, altering perspectives, and every aspect of writing. Writing is one of her biggest passions and something she is very confident in.