Fletcher thought. Even Miguel admitted the Revolution was a lost cause, at least as it stood now. “The Revolution’s not going to change anything unless they get some real muscle,” Fletcher said. “Someone who can stand up to guys like Napalm and Technein.”
Fletcher shot a look at Android 7, who seemed to be staring back knowingly. Of course, Android 7’s face was unable to express emotions, but Fletcher could gather what he was thinking nonetheless.
“Good luck finding someone like that,” Josh said with a weak laugh. And as the laugh faded, so did Fletcher’s brother.
CHAPTER 11
Fletcher wasn't ready to join the Revolution. For that matter, he doubted the Revolution would accept him after what he'd just done to their garage and their truck. Instead, he found himself speaking to the only person he thought might listen.
"My brother... he's dead," Fletcher said, trying to hold back tears.
"What? When did this happen?" Napalm asked in surprise.
"While I was out. I was fighting the Revolutionaries and he... was caught in the middle."
Napalm sat up straight in his chair and rubbed his chin, unsure what to say next. "I... I can't imagine how you feel right now. It's probably best if you head home and get some rest. You did a great job tonight." Napalm threw a stack of money across the desk. "Why don't you take a little down time and tomorrow we'll have a job--"
"Tomorrow?" Fletcher blurted. "I can't--You want me to come back tomorrow?"
"Well, not until the evening. Take some time for yourself."
"I can't do this tomorrow," Fletcher cried. "I can't do this anymore. I thought... I guess I didn't think. I didn't think about who all I was hurting."
"Oh, there there," Napalm comforted, getting out of his chair and coming around the desk. He took Fletcher's face in his hands and looked into the boy's eyes. "I know this is difficult for you, but you need to remember one thing."
Fletcher blinked his teary eyes and looked up at Napalm. "What's that?"
Napalm shoved two of his fingers into Fletcher's mouth, then pressed his thumb up against the soft fleshy part beneath his jaw. "You think it's that easy to quit? Let me make this clear. You belong to us now," Napalm snarled, leaning into Fletcher's face as the boy tried to struggle away. "And before you try anything, we all know you're pretty tough on the outside, but I'm guessing if I explode my hand right now, you're not so tough on the inside. Should we find out?"
Fletcher stopped struggling.
"Now, as I was saying, tomorrow I have a job for you. Bring that big ball and chain you love so much."
Fletcher carefully considered his options, not the least of which was thanking Mr. Napalm, grabbing the stack of cash, and showing up the next day ready for work with a great big smile. He couldn't fly away, and turning invisible when someone has his hand locked onto your jaw is pointless. He only saw one way out.
In a flash, Fletcher disappeared. Napalm fell forward without the boy to lean on any longer, but caught himself before he fell onto his face. He stood up and scanned the room, but saw nothing.
Usually, when Fletcher changed size, he tried to do it gradually. Going from five-foot-ten to a fraction of an inch in a half a second will give you a splitting headache, but considering the headache Napalm was threatening, Fletcher made the right choice.
As he tried to hold his brains in his skull, Fletcher watched the frantic Napalm search the room, completely overlooking the edge of the desk where he'd fallen. In Napalm's defense, however, Fletcher did look like a fleck of dust when he was that size.
"Kid, wherever you are in here, I'll find you," Napalm threatened. "If I have to blow myself up and burn down everything in this room to do it, I will. You're invisibility's not going to save you from that."
Fletcher had to act fast. And as badly as shrinking fast would give him a headache, returning to normal quickly made him want to throw up. Fortunately, when
Fletcher shot a look at Android 7, who seemed to be staring back knowingly. Of course, Android 7’s face was unable to express emotions, but Fletcher could gather what he was thinking nonetheless.
“Good luck finding someone like that,” Josh said with a weak laugh. And as the laugh faded, so did Fletcher’s brother.
CHAPTER 11
Fletcher wasn't ready to join the Revolution. For that matter, he doubted the Revolution would accept him after what he'd just done to their garage and their truck. Instead, he found himself speaking to the only person he thought might listen.
"My brother... he's dead," Fletcher said, trying to hold back tears.
"What? When did this happen?" Napalm asked in surprise.
"While I was out. I was fighting the Revolutionaries and he... was caught in the middle."
Napalm sat up straight in his chair and rubbed his chin, unsure what to say next. "I... I can't imagine how you feel right now. It's probably best if you head home and get some rest. You did a great job tonight." Napalm threw a stack of money across the desk. "Why don't you take a little down time and tomorrow we'll have a job--"
"Tomorrow?" Fletcher blurted. "I can't--You want me to come back tomorrow?"
"Well, not until the evening. Take some time for yourself."
"I can't do this tomorrow," Fletcher cried. "I can't do this anymore. I thought... I guess I didn't think. I didn't think about who all I was hurting."
"Oh, there there," Napalm comforted, getting out of his chair and coming around the desk. He took Fletcher's face in his hands and looked into the boy's eyes. "I know this is difficult for you, but you need to remember one thing."
Fletcher blinked his teary eyes and looked up at Napalm. "What's that?"
Napalm shoved two of his fingers into Fletcher's mouth, then pressed his thumb up against the soft fleshy part beneath his jaw. "You think it's that easy to quit? Let me make this clear. You belong to us now," Napalm snarled, leaning into Fletcher's face as the boy tried to struggle away. "And before you try anything, we all know you're pretty tough on the outside, but I'm guessing if I explode my hand right now, you're not so tough on the inside. Should we find out?"
Fletcher stopped struggling.
"Now, as I was saying, tomorrow I have a job for you. Bring that big ball and chain you love so much."
Fletcher carefully considered his options, not the least of which was thanking Mr. Napalm, grabbing the stack of cash, and showing up the next day ready for work with a great big smile. He couldn't fly away, and turning invisible when someone has his hand locked onto your jaw is pointless. He only saw one way out.
In a flash, Fletcher disappeared. Napalm fell forward without the boy to lean on any longer, but caught himself before he fell onto his face. He stood up and scanned the room, but saw nothing.
Usually, when Fletcher changed size, he tried to do it gradually. Going from five-foot-ten to a fraction of an inch in a half a second will give you a splitting headache, but considering the headache Napalm was threatening, Fletcher made the right choice.
As he tried to hold his brains in his skull, Fletcher watched the frantic Napalm search the room, completely overlooking the edge of the desk where he'd fallen. In Napalm's defense, however, Fletcher did look like a fleck of dust when he was that size.
"Kid, wherever you are in here, I'll find you," Napalm threatened. "If I have to blow myself up and burn down everything in this room to do it, I will. You're invisibility's not going to save you from that."
Fletcher had to act fast. And as badly as shrinking fast would give him a headache, returning to normal quickly made him want to throw up. Fortunately, when
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