THE ENFORCERSAdapted to novel format by Scott D. Harris
Based on an original script format by Lavaras Tucker
Information Topic /
Universal Comics OnlineBook 1: “The Legacy” / Episode 1: “In the Beginning”[
Opening Titles: “Alive” – POD]
XXX
In ancient times, when wild magic threatened to tear the universe asunder, there was a great and powerful wizard known as Etheron. Some say that he embodied order and all that was good, for it was he who tamed the elemental chaos and cleansed reality. With his seemingly limitless power, Etheron sealed the wild magic into crystals he called power cells, and cast them out amongst the stars. There existed a book, bound in stardust and inked in primordial matter, which served as a guide to the power cells; their location, their nature, the secret to unlocking them, all of this and more existed within its pages. Whoever so completed the book and gathered the cells would harness the wild magic within and rule the universe. One man attempted this. Etheron’s assistant, an arrogant nobleman called Mirage, fought his master for possession of the book in a battle that threatened the stability of all existence. Eventually, Mirage was vanquished, and Etheron sealed the book in a secret place on a nearby planet. The good wizard’s final spell was thus…
“Good brothers Earth and Wood, take into thee this prize until the day my blood divided be reunited.”His work completed, Etheron allowed himself to die. Even in the realms of the magical, blood was a powerful implement, a near-unbreakable seal. The wizard was confident that the book and the power cells would be safe.
Then one day, Mirage returned…
XXX
Austin, Texas…It was going to be just one of those days. As he pounded through the trees, the midday sun beaming down between the lush, green leaves, and the smell of the honeysuckle peppering the air so delicately, Justin Tucker was rather wishing he was somewhere else, with an ice cold glass of frosty Coke and a few slices of pizza. At first, spending his Saturdays being a super-hero was an exciting prospect, but after a couple of years it had lost its appeal. Seriously. As Justin bobbed and weaved through the foliage, the scant light that broke through between the branches gleamed off his sky blue armour. The white symbol of the bird on his chest almost vanished in the golden rays. Under his helmet, sweat trickled down his forehead and chin. That drink seemed more and more inviting by the moment. Clutched tightly in his gloved right fist was his prize, a glowing, purple orb the size of a golf ball containing immense energy. If one were to gaze into its depths, they would see a kind of primal recurring event with the equal beauty and aggression of the Big Bang. Justin held the little item as if his life depended on it, and it did not help his mood when he came to a small clearing and found his path blocked.
Five figures stood before him. Four of them were his pursuers. They stood a head taller than himself. They had broad shoulders and sloping, Neanderthal foreheads. Their eyes were a dull scarlet. Their bodies were otherwise featureless, almost shapeless, and were constructed from a substance that could only be described as sand-like, though the yellow colouring was unnatural enough to hinder such a description. The fifth was their leader, a tall man clad in smooth, black armour. He bore no decals like his opponent, though he adorned himself with a cloak of deepest purple, and a hood was pulled up to obscure his face. When he spoke, the sound was like a hoarse whisper. He was like someone who stood outside and peeked through the veil of reality to whisper the way a child does when teasing during a game of Hide-and-Seek. By now Justin, a mere boy, did not fear this terrible creature. They had fought in the past and he had always been the triumphant one (almost, he would allow, during his more inexperienced moments, the enemy had been able to best him, though he had quickly steeled himself against the concept of failure).
“Fine day to be out, Mirage,” he sneered, “I never took you for the outdoors-y type.”
“You can drop the flippant remarks, Blue Jay,” Mirage spat. “I
will have that power cell…and Etheron’s book!”
“You mean
this?” asked Justin, or as he was known whilst wearing the helmet, Blue Jay in a sarcastic fashion. It is not easy to describe the exact nature of the magic granted upon those who wield the power cells, but it could be approximated that each has a personal doorway to a realm beyond. A personal pocket dimension, if you will. From this invisible pocket, he retrieved what Mirage referred to – a large tome bound in a skin that was somewhere between red, brown and gold. Its cover was inscribed with ancient writing from another world. The most sacred Book of Etheron. “Not gonna happen!” Blue Jay finished, sending it back to his pocket. At this Mirage hissed with anger.
“Kill the child!” he bellowed. The four sand-men obeyed, and flung themselves towards Blue Jay. The young hero was ready, for the soldiers were mindless and clumsy, and kicked up into the air. After a quick somersault, he drove the heels of both feet into the back of the nearest sand-man’s head with enough force to separate it from its shoulders. A second sand-man was able to strike Blue Jay across the lower back, and in astonishment, he released the power cell, which dropped into the open mouth of a third sand-man.
“Jay Wing!” Blue Jay exclaimed. Once more his personal pocket dimension sprang open and from it came something that resembled the bird from which our hero took his name, made entirely of smooth, blue-and-white metal. Jay Wing released an angry cry and drilled through the sand-man’s chest with his sharp beak, emerging on the other side with the power cell in his talons. The robotic bird mockingly circled around Mirage and then returned to his master, who was in the process of chopping the second sand-man cleanly in half down the middle with his bare hand.
“Thanks, pal,” said Blue Jay. He wheeled round to face the fourth sand-man, sending a mental command to his personal arsenal. Blue particles of light exploded from his left arm and his weapon appeared. A silver box had appeared, strapped across his left wrist and with an attached handle that looped its way under so he could grip it. Attached to either side was a bronze tube, or rather, a pair of bronze laser barrels. Squeezing the trigger, he released two streams of blue laser-light power that tore the target’s arms off. The sand that composed it leaked out in two directions and within seconds it was reduced to nothing. Mirage scowled and pulled his cloak tighter around himself.
“This is no place for a battle,” he snarled. “You’d better watch out, Blue Jay, because I won’t rest until I have all the power cells!”
“Change the record,” Blue Jay sneered. Mirage willed himself away and just like that he vanished from sight, returning to his dwelling. Blue Jay straightened up and tapped two fingers to a spot on his right wrist. In a flash, his armour disintegrated, returning to his pocket dimension, as did Jay Wing and his Wrist Blaster. What stood in his place was a fourteen-year-old boy with short hair and dark skin. Strapped to his right wrist were the last remains of Blue Jay – it was small, flat and rectangular, with a slot on one end and an L.C.D. screen on top. Protruding from the slot was the edge of a blue-and-white plastic card, which he promptly stuck in his jean pocket. Justin Tucker tossed the newly gained power cell into the air and caught it again. He released a satisfied sigh. Another one down. Just countless millions left to go.
XXX
Chief of Police Richard Marks was what you called an old-fashioned cop. He believed in a day’s work for a day’s pay, never took bribes, and never tolerated sloppiness, but despite all this, he was the only cop in existence who was partnered with a kid. Not officially, of course, but he had been working alongside the Tucker kid for some time now. Knew him and his family well. Trained him to fight. A clandestine presentation to the C.I.A. had gotten him the funding to set up an entire laboratory with the purpose of detecting those damnable power cells with a far greater range than that toy of a tracker the kid carried around with him. Presently, he was sitting in his office, going over some case files (after all he still had to do some real police work now and again) and sipping a cup of coffee when his mobile phone began to ring. It was Justin. He could tell, he had a special tone set up for the kid (and he almost never gave out his mobile number so it could only be one of a small group of people). Chief Marks opened up the phone and put it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Chief, it’s Justin,” said the voice on the other end. “I got that power cell, but it was close, Mirage almost got to it first.”
“He’s been more on the ball lately,” said Chief Marks. Inside he was quite concerned but he maintained a calm exterior. It would not do to let any of his officers catch on to his moonlighting as the Alfred to Tucker’s Batman. If he stayed cool, anyone who saw him would think it was a casual family call and think nothing of it. “You registered it in the book yet?”
“Just did,” replied the boy.
“Well done…listen kid,” Chief Marks sighed. “I’ve been thinking, you’ve collected a lot of those things now over the past two years, and there’s still God-knows-how-many left, and like you said, Mirage was-”
“I’m not recruiting people, Chief,” the boy interrupted. They’d had this conversation before, and Marks knew what his young friend was about to say. “I can’t risk any more innocent lives. Not after what happened to Jimmy.” There was a heavy, silent moment, then Justin hung up. Marks rubbed his temples thoughtfully. Indeed, what happened to Justin’s friend Jimmy Marsden was a terrible tragedy. It came as no shock that the kid would be reluctant. It was an altogether traumatising spectacle. He looked into the murky depths of his coffee cup and decided he’d had enough.
XXX
One thing you could always count on was that every Saturday,
Virgil’s was packed. The cavernous, three-storey arcade in downtown Austin was a hot spot for local youths, containing everything from dance machines to racing simulators to laser tag chambers. If a game existed, you could find it somewhere inside. The smoothie bar next door was good for business. In a way, you could say the two establishments helped each other. Presently, fourteen-year-old Eric Moales, an African-American youth of muscular build, was occupying a game that involved punching a pad with as much force as possible. Working off some stress from an argument earlier that day with another boy, Tyrone Brown, Eric put all his might into his next punch, which impacted on the pad so hard that it broke off its pop-down arm. The character on the screen, designed to look like he himself had been whacked, split in two down the middle and the screen screeched to static.
“Je-zoos!” exclaimed Eric’s friend B.J. Vasquez. “Eric, man, you totalled that poor machine!”
“Probably had it comin’,” replied Eric, trying to hide his embarrassment (quite a few people were looking at him). “Let’s jet, I’m suddenly feelin’ five kinds of self-conscious here.”
“I know what you mean,” said his other friend, Joseph White, who seemed to always have his hands stuffed in his jean pockets and his head tilted slightly down as if he were in deep contemplation. “Man, where the heck is Justin? I ain’t seen the dude all day.” As the three teens emerged into the sunlight, their friend arrived as if on cue to answer Joseph’s question.
“Sorry I’m late guys,” he apologised, slightly short of breath, “had some stuff to deal with.”
“It’s cool, bro,” replied Eric, clapping his hand down on Justin’s shoulder. “Man, you look beat. You run here or somethin’?”
“All the way from Zilker Park.”
“If you’re so sorry for being late,” B.J. chuckled, “then you can buy the drinks.” Joseph and Eric laughed as Justin whipped off B.J.’s baseball cap and swatted him across the chest with it. They walked to the bar together and sat for a while, chatting over little matters – Eric’s adventure in the arcade, who was hot, the new songs by their favourite artists, video games (that was B.J.’s contribution, being a self-confessed geek and something of a tech-head). When Joseph’s martial arts training came into question, he shrugged it off. It was no secret that he did not get along with his sensei, though the pair did have a mutual respect for each other. Joseph understood that Master Goggin knew what he was doing, and in return, Goggin could see that the kid was the best student he’d had in years.
“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP?!”
The four teens looked over at the counter to where the outraged cry came from. Maurice the soda jerk was standing there with the remains of a strawberry milkshake dripping off his head and down his shirt. The perpetrator of this heinous act was a square-jawed kid wearing a trendy dark white-and-grey jacket and cowboy boots. Mickey Broken-Nose was a local bully who ran with Tyrone Brown’s gang. A brainless thug who wanted to be something he wasn’t. Reaching across the counter, Mickey grabbed Maurice by the collar of his uniform T-shirt and lifted him up.
“I said I wan’ed soy milk ya dimwit,” he snarled, “I said I was lactose intolerant, an’ you can’t even get that right?! You tryin’ to kill me, punk? That it?”
“S-sir,” Maurice stammered, “i-if you’re not s-satisfied we do offer refunds.”
Mickey paused. Then he burst out into a fit of giggles.
“You stutterin’ freak!” he hooted. “That jus’ kills me, man, you funny! You gots one of them stutters!” Maurice turned his head to the side, his cheeks bright red. How humiliating. He always did his best to control it, but when he was intimidated, it was hard. From the corner of his eye, he saw one of the four boys sitting at a window table get up and walk over. He’d seen him a few times, though he didn’t know his name. He was black, with a serious face and wearing a green T-shirt. Was he coming to help him, or Mickey Broken-Nose? He could have stayed in bed today, this could have been his day off, but no, he had to be the nice guy and fill in for a sick friend. Damn it! This was so unfair!
Joseph despised bullies. It turned his stomach to see the big picking on the small. He tapped Mickey Broken-Nose on the shoulder and the moment the thug turned his head to face him, he landed a punch right across his jaw-line. Mickey grunted and released Maurice so he could hold his sore face.
“You motherf-!” he began to curse as Joseph took him by the sleeve of his jacket and dragged him outside into the street, pinning him up against a lamppost.
“All right, grease-ball,” Joseph growled, “I’m only gonna say this once so listen up. People like you make me sick to my stomach, and I swear to God if I catch you pickin’ on anybody again, your ass is grass and I’m the lawnmower. You got that?”
“You pickin’ a fight with me, boy?” Mickey Broken-Nose shot back. “You think I’m scared of you?”
“Don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret,” Joseph said with a sudden calm. He shoved the thug against the lamppost again then walked back inside. Mickey Broken-Nose glared at his back as if he could kill with a stare and stormed off up the street. Nobody made a monkey out of him and got away with it. He’d tell the boys, yeah, tell the boys, and they would come back in force and rip that little creep a new arsehole. That would show them!
“Nice job, man,” said B.J. as Joseph took his seat at the table again. He explained that Justin had gone to help Maurice get cleaned up and another soda jerk would be taking his place at the counter in a few minutes. He remarked that it was amazing how he’d solved the situation without doing too much damage, but Joseph seemed forlorn. He knew how cretins like Mickey Broken-Nose operated. They never fought their own battles. He’d be back with friends soon enough, and when that happened things would get worse. He did not regret helping the poor guy, but he did feel guilty because that was who they would target first because he would not fight back. Street gangs were cowards and bullies who could not grasp the concept of a fair fight. A waitress by the name of Sonya set a fresh banana smoothie in front of Joseph.
“On the house,” she said sweetly.
“Thanks,” Joseph smiled back at her.
XXX
No light could penetrate this dank and intimidating realm. That was why the dark wizard known as Mirage was happy to call it home. It was a place where he was truly in his own element. His court hung suspended in the Abyss of Evil, a space separate from all others. The main hall was a wide, hexagonal chamber that was big enough to contain an army and constructed of a material that resembled marble yet gave off an eldritch glow that defied the human spectrum. The walls were illuminated by torches of coal black fire. A series of indecipherable symbols, the language of entropy, spiralled from some point at the outer rim of the floor to the very centre. The ceiling was a rotted white and appeared to be constructed from some form of wood. Mirage’s throne, built from the clawed hand of some giant but long dead monster stood at the top of a mountain of skulls. The dark wizard’s closest followers, four of them in general, stood arguing at the base of the mount.
“My squads have already found a hundred power cells while you’ve done nothing but fail,” growled one.
“And mine have claimed twice that,” another one retorted.
“But you lost more than half because you led Blue Jay straight to your camp!” a third pointed out.
“You forget why I am the dark lord’s general,” the fourth stated dryly. “I have served Him the longest, and had the most successful power cells.”
“So why is it that the human brat bests you every time?” the first sneered. “If it weren’t for my intervention you’d be lying in some lab getting dissected!”
“If that lab could separate me from you, Frightmare, I’d welcome it!”
The heavy doors of the hall swung open and Mirage entered. Though they could not see it for his hood, the four warriors were aware that their master was enraged. Even he had not yet triumphed over the accursed Blue Jay.
“Did you succeed, My Lord?” asked the fourth warrior, the general, rather stupidly. Mirage hissed at him and turned to face them all, eyes crackling with an unholy crimson current.
“I am sick of these constant failures!” he boomed. “We have ravaged entire worlds and drained them of every power cell! We have left an ever-increasing trail of dead bodies, slaughtered every hero who dared to stand in our way, collected unfathomable magic…but while the book remains out of my possession, we cannot truly unlock it! The only thing standing between me and Godhood is one human germ and for the past two years we have faced nothing but frustration! We cannot continue like this!”
“We will not continue like this, My Lord,” repeated the fourth warrior. Mirage raised one armoured hand and the warrior was lifted into the air by an unseen magical burst. Higher and higher, unable to struggle, stunned into silence as the spiral of the floor began to unwind, opening up a hole to the swirling abyss outside. A liquid pool of ghostly hunger, a cascade of colours both imaginable and unreal. The general screamed as Mirage released his hold and he was sucked into the pit, leaving no trace he ever existed. The portal silently closed, and there was a stunned silence from the remaining three warriors.
“It is true,” he spoke more calmly, “that we cannot continue like this…and now it is also true that I find myself in need of a new general. Scorch…”
“My Lord,” said the warrior he addressed. He was a tall man with alabaster skin, dressed in scarlet body armour, on top of which he wore a long black coat. A wide, flat-bladed sword hung on his back.
“I feel another power cell awakening,” said Mirage, “but I cannot go myself, I must recover my expended energy here…and if Blue Jay gets in your way…tear him to pieces.”
“It will be done,” Scorch vowed.
XXX
The attack was swift and brutal. Downtown Austin was thrown into a panic as Scorch descended and called forth an army of sand-men. They pulled up great chunks of the ground and smashed their way through buildings in search of the power cell their master craved so much. As the insanity raged outside, Justin Tucker felt a great anger rise up inside him.
“What the hell do we do?!” B.J. exclaimed as he dodged a sand-man’s punch and kicked its legs out from under it.
“We gotta help get everybody out until the police arrive!” Eric cried. “Joseph! With me!” The two of them grabbed an overturned table and charged forward, using their makeshift battering ram to force the invaders out into the street. B.J. joined them wielding a cosh he’d found behind the counter, which he drove through the chest of one sand-man. The weapon stuck firm, and B.J. had to jump back to avoid the monster’s flailing limbs. Amidst all this destruction, Justin made good his escape and ducked behind the side of the smoothie bar, a small alleyway between it and the arcade. None of his friends had seen him, so he guessed now was as safe a time as any to activate his powers. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the blue-and-white plastic card as the reading device materialised on his wrist in a sparkle of magic.
“Enforcerise!”
[
Transformation Sequence: Justin stands against the vastness of space, holding his Enforceriser in his right hand and his activation card in his left. Sky blue light swims in a pattern behind him. He crosses his arms over his chest, spreads them and then at arm’s length, slams the card into the device. Justin roars as his body erupts with power and his sky blue-and-white uniform and helmet materialise in a flash. The number ‘1’ appears on his belt buckle. Blue Jay strikes a pose.
“Enforcer number 1, Blue Jay!”]
Scorch smelled it. The power cell. On the far side of the street stood a young boy with curly brown hair and wearing a fashionable orange jacket. He was holding something in his hand. That was it. Scorch smiled, showing two rows of sharp teeth, and the white fire in his hair and eyes seemed to flare with excitement. He strode towards the paralysed human with great speed, unsheathing and raising his sword in one swift movement. As he prepared to bring it down, he was halted in his tracks by a burst of pain in his side. The human, brought back to his senses, kicked him firmly between the legs and took off at full speed, vanishing round the nearest corner. Growling in pain, Scorch planted his sword in the road and held onto it for balance until the throbbing in his side and groin faded. He had come so close, now…now someone was going to pay! Standing straight, Scorch faced his initial attacker. Blue Jay’s Wrist Blaster was still smoking.
“That’s far enough, Hot-head,” said the young hero. “It’s one thing when you attack me, but when you start harassing innocent civilians…well, that just gets me mad.”
Scorch raised his sword and with a furious battle cry, charged forth. Blue Jay primed his Wrist Blaster and fired again, but this time his opponent was ready for it. Scorch swung his blade, deflecting the blasts, and lunged at the hero. At first they were evenly matched. One would punch, the other would deflect or dodge. The fight continued on this way for several minutes with neither gaining the upper hand, as the prize they fought over got further away, avoiding the sand-men, who were now divided between the main fight and that with the Austin Police Department who were now arriving on the scene.
“This ain’t right,” said Eric. “I dunno who that dude in blue is but I know he’s on our side, and he’s all alone against that fire guy.” He started to get up, but B.J. pulled him back behind the pile of debris serving as a hiding place.
“Are you crazy, man?” the Latin boy asked in a harsh whisper. “The guy’s made of fire! You’ll get pulverised!”
“Better die than sit here like a scared kid,” Eric shot back. He tore himself free of B.J.’s grasp and threw himself at Scorch, wrapping one arm around the monster’s neck from behind. He tried to avoid the burning hair, but he was so close that his entire body felt like it was heating up. The temperature coming off of his quarry was intense. As Scorch struggled, Blue Jay took the opportunity to fire another laser stream. This one hit and sparks flew from Scorch’s chest.
“Eric!” Blue Jay cried without thinking. “Get out of here quick!”
Scorch snarled and reached back over his shoulder, grabbing the human insect by the shirt and threw him across the road, where he landed painfully on top of the pile of debris.
“Eric!” Blue Jay, B.J. and Joseph cried together.
“That tears it,” the hero’s gaze burned into his enemy. He summoned his robot companion Jay Wing, who circled around Scorch and peppered him with laser fire before streaking towards his master’s outstretched hand. The robot’s body began to shift, his head disappearing down into his chest, his wings flattening out, his talons withdrawing. In the span of a split-second, he had changed shape from a bird to a hand-held firearm. Blue Jay took hold of Jay Wing and primed both that and his Wrist Blaster on Scorch, who despite his injuries, continued approaching. The tip of the monster’s sword dragged along the ground, leaving a fiery trail of sparks in its wake. He was snorting heavily and breathing smoke, as if the fire inside him was straining to break free.
“Sand-men!” Scorch bellowed. “Kill him!”
Eric staggered along, aided by B.J. and Joseph, as the battle raged behind them.
“Come on, Eric, let’s get you to a hospital,” said Joseph.
“…He knew my name,” Eric murmured. “He called my name.”
“What?” B.J. blinked. “But how’s that possible? Unless…” As realisation dawned on their faces, a police car pulled up in front of them and the driver’s side door popped open. Out stepped a tall man with a bald head and a black moustache. He wore a suit, not a uniform, and looked to be in his 50s.
“I’m Chief Marks,” he introduced himself quickly. “Your friend’s going to need help. Get in the car and I’ll explain on the way.” They obeyed. Joseph helped Eric into the back as B.J. settled himself in the front passenger seat. Marks floored it and the car sped away from the battlefield.
XXX
By the time they reached the sub-basement beneath the Austin P.D. headquarters, Eric had gathered his senses and could walk unaided. That didn’t stop him from feeling awestruck at what they were now baring witness to. The Police Chief had led them to this room that not even the other officers knew about, fitted from one end to the other with all manner of computer wizardry. B.J. was able to recognise some as surveillance equipment, but the rest was new even to him. There were monitors and consoles and other stuff straight out of a science fiction epic. Marks explained that while he was the sole operator of this room, its purpose was a joint effort by covert individuals in law enforcement, the federal services and even a special section of N.A.S.A. The purpose was of course to detect items known as power cells across the western hemisphere, which was what he was getting to now. He led the three of them to the far end of the room, where a large section of the wall was taken up by a vault door.
“Before we go in,” said Marks, “do you have any questions?”
“Yeah,” said Joseph. “Why are you telling us all this?”
“Justin will never admit it,” said Marks with a grim expression, “but he can’t do it alone, and there’s only so much me and my friends can do if we don’t want to blow our cover. We need a team to fight Mirage and his army, and as his trusted friends, I think you three are the best candidates. It’ll be dangerous though, so if you want to back out now, say so. Nobody will think any less of you. I only ask you never repeat what you’ve heard here to anybody.”
“I’m in,” Eric said at once. “Justin’s my friend, I won’t let him down.”
“Same goes for us,” said B.J. Joseph just nodded. Marks nodded and keyed in a code on the small pad next to the vault door. There was a loud clank and steam issued forth from beneath it, and the heavy door swung open. The three boys stared in wide-eyed amazement at what awaited them inside. The interior of the vault looked as if it went on for miles. The walls were cut into a vast grid, and inside each square was a glowing ball.
“This is the power cell containment room,” the Police Chief explained. “Every power cell we’ve ever successfully collected over the past two years is stored right here.” He reached for three of the shining objects and handed one to each of the three boys. There was a brief flash, and when it subsided, they had been replaced with a flat rectangular reader and a card. “Those are your Enforcerisers and transformation cards, simply connect them and call out your codename to activate your powers. Eric Moales, I’m designating you Enforcer 2, Black Night. B.J. Vasquez, you’re Enforcer 3, Red Wing. Joseph White, you’re Enforcer 4, Razor Blade. You ready for this?”
“Just tell us whose butt we get to kick,” Eric smirked. “Right guys?”
“Right!” B.J. and Joseph agreed.
XXX
Blue Jay strained not to cry out as Scorch’s sword slashed downwards across his chest, spewing hot golden sparks into the air. He struggled to break free of the sand-men, but the creatures held him tight. They had grasped onto his arms and legs and fused themselves into a single mass, totally inhibiting his movement as Scorch tortured him to death. The monster licked his lips and drops of saliva, as red and burning hot as lava, splattered on the tarmac, burning tiny holes in it. He was going to enjoy turning this wretched animal into a pile of ash. He hefted the seething blade into the air and prepared for the killing blow.
“Nighty-night, Blue Jay,” he tittered.
“Yo! Mullet-head!” a voice shouted. Scorch groaned to himself and turned to face the sound. More interlopers to deal with. How annoying. Even more-so when he realised it was the whelp who had dared attack him earlier, along with his two cohorts. Scorch snapped his fingers and the sand pile collapsed, separated and reformed into the sand-man squadron. Blue Jay dropped to his knees.
“Guys…don’t…” he croaked.
“It’s cool, man,” said Eric, “we know. This fool’s about to get a serious ass-whoopin’. B.J.! Joseph! Let’s do this!” The three of them raised their Enforcerisers in front of them and called out as one man, “ENFORCERISE!”
[
Transformation Sequences: Eric stands against the vastness of space, holding his Enforceriser in his right hand and his activation card in his left. White light swims behind him. He crosses his arms over his chest, spreads them and then at arm’s length, slams the card into the device. Eric roars as his body erupts with power and his black-and-white uniform and helmet materialise in a flash. The number ‘2’ appears on his belt buckle. Black Night strikes a pose.
“Enforcer number 2, Black Night!”]
[
B.J. stands against the vastness of space, holding his Enforceriser in his right hand and his activation card in his left. Red light swims behind him. He crosses his arms over his chest, spreads them and then at arm’s length, slams the card into the device. B.J. roars as his body erupts with power and his red-and-black uniform and helmet materialise in a flash. The number ‘3’ appears on his belt buckle. Red Wing strikes a pose.
“Enforcer number 3, Red Wing!”]
[
Joseph stands against the vastness of space, holding his Enforceriser in his right hand and his activation card in his left. Green light swims behind him. He crosses his arms over his chest, spreads them and then at arm’s length, slams the card into the device. Joseph roars as his body erupts with power and his white-and-green uniform and helmet materialise in a flash. The number ‘4’ appears on his belt buckle. Razor Blade strikes a pose.
“Enforcer number 4, Razor Blade!”]
There was an almighty burst of light and a column of raw power exploded up from the street. It was so bright and so potent that Scorch and the sand-men had to cover their eyes. When the light faded, three armoured figures had replaced the three boys. The one called Black Night punched his palm and grinned malevolently behind his helmet’s white visor, “Tight! Okay team, let’s do it to it. Enforcers, attack!” They split up in three different directions – Black Night headed straight for Scorch while Red Wing raced off to the right and Razor Blade ran left, ducking low.
The green warrior summoned his weapons, a pair of Japanese katana swords, and cut down the sand-men who sought to bury him beneath their weight. He bounded into the air, manoeuvring into a spinning descent with both blades extended. His opponents were cut to shreds and blobs of alien sand were thrown this way and that. At the same time, Red Wing did not call upon a weapon, but rather the ability to control a unique form of matter. It materialised from the air as scarlet liquid suspended around his fist, solidifying into a large firearm with a scope attached. The words ‘Eagle Eye,’ were engraved along the length of the barrel. Squeezing the trigger, Red Wing fired a number of red bolts from the weapon, blowing open great sucking holes in the sand-men’s bodies until their integrity gave way and they exploded into so much dust. The two new Enforcers reached Blue Jay and took him by the arms to help him stand.
“Easy, Justin,” said Razor Blade, “we got you.”
“But you have a heck of a lot of explainin’ to do when this is over,” Red Wing noted.
“Guess so,” Blue Jay sighed. “I didn’t want any more partners, but…well, thanks guys.”
“Don’t thank us until we’re finished,” Red Wing raised the Eagle Eye and began firing at the new wave of sand-men heading straight for them.
Black Night’s broadsword struck Scorch’s blade. The dark matter and the burning fire hissed against each other as their masters struggled to take the upper hand. So much smoke was billowing out of Scorch’s nostrils that it almost obscured his face entirely.
“You can’t cross swords with me, boy,” he warned, “so don’t even try.”
“Tell someone who cares, brimstone-breath,” the black warrior scoffed. He raised one foot and stamped down hard while shouting, “Charge it!” The ground crackled with electrical energy and a column of light exploded around Scorch, blinding the fire monster and throwing him off-balance. Seizing the moment, Black Night slashed his sword diagonally across his opponent’s stomach with so much strength that he cut through the scarlet armoured stomach. Staggering, Scorch choked back the pain and snarled out, “This isn’t over! I’ll be back!” With that, he disappeared in a brief burst of eldritch light, and the spilt sand faded like the end of a film. Breathing heavily, Black Night dismissed his sword and approached the other Enforcers.
XXX
That evening, the four friends sat together in the Tucker family living room. Justin’s parents were out of town that day and it was decided that so long as the damage was covered up as much as possible, there was no need to let them know of what had occurred that day. Etheron’s ancient book was placed on the table, opened to a page displaying a rough illustration of their battle armour. Justin sighed. He did not want other people involved, but now those three other power cells had found their wielders, he did not have a choice in the matter. It brought back memories of his first mission with his friend Jimmy Marsden. The mission that had taken that poor boy’s life. The very same one that led to his alliance with Chief Marks.
“It was two years ago,” he said after a long pause. “Me and Jimmy, he was my best friend, we were out in the woods near Barton Creek, that’s when we first found the book, and two power cells. Those cells became the first two Enforcerisers. I got one, Jimmy got the other. No sooner did I pull this thing out of the ground when Mirage’s soldiers showed up. The Enforcerisers activated themselves and we transformed. It was hard on us both, neither of us had ever been in a real fight, but somehow we pulled through.”
“So what happened to Jimmy?” asked Joseph.
“I’m not sure,” Justin admitted. “He just had some kind of reaction and…well…he’s gone. I guess not everybody is compatible with the cells they find. After seeing what happened to him, I decided I didn’t want anybody else to risk their lives like that.”
“Well we’re still here,” B.J. pointed out, “so we’re compatible, and even if we weren’t, you know we’ve got your back, dude. Against the four of us, Mirage doesn’t stand a chance. What do you say?”
Justin looked at each of them in turn, considering them individually. He closed his eyes, and then he smiled. “Okay, we’ll do this as a team. Enforcers?”
“Enforcers,” Eric, B.J. and Joseph replied together.
XXX
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Closing Titles: “Alive (Instrumental version)” – POD]
Dilber MC Theme by HarzeM