1.13

Bulldog was Hunter’s great uncle on his father’s side. He led a small team known as Night Watch. They were painted by the media as being nothing more than vigilantes compared to a lot of the other heroes, but the citizens of Crooked Downs saw them as their lifesavers.

Two team members had been killed on duty and another retired, Bulldog was one of two active members of Night Watch left. He was the kind of man that never knew when to quit, putting him in many dangerous situations.

“You’ve decided to try and become a hero hey?” Bulldog asked, a snort of derision in his voice.

“Yeah, what of it?” Hunter and Jordan had struggled to get along ever since his father was murdered.

“What does your mother think of it all?”

“Doesn’t like it.” They stood on rooftops in Crooked Downs, looking down at the street below.

“Well, that’s your call to make.”

“What did Michael tell you about training?” Down below Hunter watched a person steal a purse and before taking off, their intended victim pulled out a knife and tried to stab them.

“He says you need to learn to fight. Practical purposes to your powers. How to be a leader.”

“Can’t you just teach me by sparring in your gym?” Knowing his uncle’s history, Hunter wasn’t excited what the night was going to bring.

“What’s that going to teach you?” Bulldog leapt over the side, grabbing onto the fire escape. He let go and re-gripped each level, slowly descending on the fight below.

“Seriously?” Hunter let himself down the ladder and hurried down the fire escape after his uncle.

Before Hunter had reached the street level, Bulldog had already jumped into the fray and knocked both fighters’ unconscious. The one that had pulled the knife had a broken nose.

“Did you really need to go that far?” Hunter was panting by his uncle’s side.

“Swift and hard, that’s the only way.” Bulldog had a crazy smile on his face.

A citizen rounded the corner of the alleyway, saw Bulldog, Hunter and the two knocked out on the ground, and immediately turned around and left.

“We don’t all have unbreakable skin. Can’t all just go in headfirst.” Hunter clenched his fists and thought about his dust.

“You don’t need the powers to be able to do what I did.” Bulldog dragged the bodies to opposite sides of the alleyway. He tossed a coin on each, his masked face on the sides of the coins and spoke into a communicator on his wrist.

“I’ve got two knocked out in an alley. Ping my location and come check them out. One tried to rob, the other tried to stab.”

“What are the coins for?” Hunter asked.

“Calling card. Something I came up with in my prime. Lets the criminals know who took them down.” There was a hint of showmanship in his tone. Something Hunter didn’t like about most heroes. A trait neither of his parents had in their heroic days.

“How’s the training supposed to start?” Hunter asked. “What do you want me to do?”

“See that person there? Go get them.” Bulldog pointed at someone in a long black cloak. They had a red scarf and bowlers’ hat. They walked with a cane and when they heard Bulldog’s voice, stopped walking.

“What? Why?” Hunter looked at the person, they stood there, unmoving.

“Don’t ask why, just do.” To emphasize his point, Bulldog pushed Hunter’s back with enough force that Hunter almost fell over.

Hunter stumbled and fought gravity to correct his footing. As he righted himself, he collided into the shadowy figure. The figure grabbed Hunter’s shoulders and straightened him up.

“If I was a real threat, you’d be dead.” The figure in the coat unsheathed a hidden cane sword, the red blade glinted in the dimly lit street.

“Huh?” As Hunter righted himself, both Bulldog and the shadowy figure started laughing.

“This is Mister Blade, one of my old teammates. He went off on his own, focussing more on the paranormal than street justice.” Bulldog approached his friend and the two clasped hands.

“You were always too much of a brute for my tastes, Jordan. Too quick with the violence.” Mister Blade sheathed his sword and nodded his acknowledgement to Hunter.

“You can’t argue with the results.”

“No, you’re quite right. Who do we have here?” The man had a fine moustache that twirled into tips.

“This is Keegan and Clara’s kid. Wants to be a hero. Old codger Michael wants me to train him.”

“Oh dear. He wants you to train him? He must be losing his touch to think you could handle this.” The two shared a laugh.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Mister Blade, but Bulldog, when is my training going to begin?”

“Any minute now kid. We’re in Crooked Downs. Some crime is bound to happen. Relax now because you won’t get to soon.” Bulldog replied.

An alarm clanged out in the distance. The two older heroes nodded and ran to the source of the noise, Hunter close behind them.

“Someone’s robbing a bank. You’re up kid.” Bulldog commanded.

The front of the bank was decimated. There were holes through the wall and burn marks all over the front of the building.

Hunter hung back and waited, unsure of what to do.

“What are you doing kid? Go in and stop them,” said Bulldog.

“Have you seen all those burn marks? What am I supposed to do against fire?” Hunter felt both scared and annoyed.

“Just go in, how bad can it be?”

Hunter took a step toward the bank but stopped when he heard an explosion from inside. A blurry silhouette danced about behind the flames. Hunter took a step back from the heat and watched as the flames hissed and died down in a small area.

The crook hidden in the shadows stepped out onto the street, coughing and laughing.

“This gun worked way better than I thought it would.” It was an elderly, scrawny man.

“Copter,” said Hunter.

The old criminal looked at him, a strange and sleek looking gun pointed straight at Hunter.

“Not this time, whippersnapper.”