Heroes' Handbook

I've been writing some YA material lately. Below is the first chapter of my latest work. Let me know what you think. Thanks.

Chapter 1: A Hero for Hire

It was a typically slow Monday morning when Shannon burst into the office. Buck had been working on a crossword puzzle, flip-flopped feet up on the desk, chewing on his pen, and all the while waiting for someone, anyone, to call. It had been almost two weeks since his last private investigation job, and he was starting to get antsy, not to mention a little worried about the state of his finances. Margaritaville was playing quietly on the radio as Buck hummed along when Shannon entered the room with her usual melodramatic flair.

She marched right up to Buck’s desk, threw down two postcards, and announced:

“Captain Blastar is missing!”

Buck glanced up from his puzzle to look at Shannon. She had dark red hair, a pointed nose with nostrils that were currently flaring, and she looked younger than her 30 years of age. Though he was more or less bored out of his mind, he was actually hoping to hear from anyone but her.

“Um…who?” he asked her with feigned ignorance. He picked up one of the postcards, took a cursory look at it, and then tossed it back on his desk.

“You heard me,” she said, as she flipped the switch to turn off his dilapidated old radio.

Buck dropped his crossword to the floor, took his feet off the desk, and stood up. He brushed some old, unidentified crumbs off his pink patterned Hawaiian shirt, and gave her a wry grin.

“I didn’t know you were in the business of looking for missing superheroes,” he said as he hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his cargo shorts.

“It might make a great story for the paper. What can I say?”

“Fair enough,” he said.

“So, are you in?” she asked.

“To find him?”

“Yes.”

Shannon sat down on the soda-stained couch in the corner of the cramped room and took out her checkbook.

“My editors at the Tribune are willing to pay you $10,000 up front. The rest is negotiable depending on how long it takes you to find him.”

“You know I just love money and all, and I’d be just thrilled to help you, but where am I supposed to start looking?” Buck said, throwing up his hands. “He could be literally anywhere in the world!”

“Fortunately Mr. B is an old friend of mine and he may have sent me a clue. See for yourself.”

Shannon pointed to the two postcards she had tossed on his desk.

“He’s in Costa Rica?” Buck said.

“I need you to find out for sure,” she said. “The postcards aren’t much to go on, but it’s worth checking out.”

“You’re paying me to take a trip down to paradise and look for this guy?” he said. “Sure, I’ll go. No promises about finding him, but I’ll give it a shot.”

He sat back down in his chair, leaned back, and put his feet up on the desk again. “I guess I’ll just leave on the first flight I can find out of DC. Might not be for a few days, though. I need some time to wax my surfboard.”

“Don’t worry about the ticket,” said Shannon. “I’ve already got one for you for first thing tomorrow morning.”

Buck grimaced.

Then with a sly look she added, “And, by the way, I’m coming with you.”

At that moment, the door burst open again and slammed against the wall, this time with such ferocity that it sounded as though the glass window pane on it would shatter into a million pieces.

It was Buck’s teenage nephew, Elliot. He was tall and gangly, but looked older than his 14 years. Buck knew that in spite of his lanky appearance he was actually pretty strong from all of the backcountry camping and canoeing he’d done as a Boy Scout in recent years.

“What’s up, Bucky!” he shouted to Buck. Noticing Shannon out of the corner of his eye, he pretended to slick back his thick, wavy brown hair and asked, “Who’s this?”

“It’s the intrepid reporter, Shannon Galway. She was just leaving…you know, like you.”

“Like me? Oh, you’re such a kidder.”

Elliot sauntered over to the desk and picked up the two postcards.

“Going on vacation, Buck?” he asked his uncle.

“Apparently.”

“Hey,” Elliot said. “These two postcards look like they’re of the same scenery, but one’s got an island way in the background with a bunch of buildings on it and the other doesn’t. See for yourself.”

“Gimme that,” said Buck.

Elliot tossed the pictures to him, but Shannon caught them mid-throw.

“Hey!” Buck said.

Shannon studied the pictures, and then pursed her lips.

“You know, he’s right. Not sure how I missed that one,” she said as she pointed out the island to Buck.

“You think that’s where Blastar’s headed?” Buck asked. “Wherever that is.”

Elliot’s head shot up, and his eyes widened.

“You’re looking for Captain Blastar?!” he exclaimed. “He’s been missing for weeks! We’ve got to find him.”

“Don’t worry, kiddo. I intend to…” Buck said, as he trailed off. “Wait a minute. What do you mean `we?’”

Shannon walked over to Elliot and put her arm around his shoulders as he gave Buck a big goofy grin.

“Room for one more?” he asked. “Seems like a great way to spend summer break!”

“Of course,” Shannon said. “Go team!”

- - -

Abraham “Buck” Conway walked into his small Washington, DC apartment just before seven o’clock that night and started packing his things, muttering to himself about Shannon and Elliot as he worked. He pulled his fedora off his prematurely graying head and tossed it across the room in frustration.

There was just no talking Shannon out of coming on the trip to find Blastar. Elliot wasn’t quite as big a deal, but he didn’t want to have to take responsibility for him if something bad went down. But, Shannon? Ugh.

And, besides, what was the big deal about that Blastar guy anyway? So the Captain rescued the President that one time. Okay, two times. But, did he ever find a lost civilization in Africa? Serve as a test pilot for the newest and most state-of-the-art fighter jets? Lead a jail-break out of a terrorist hideout?

No way. Not like Buck.

And, anyway, he hated working with partners. But it seemed that Shannon Galway would do anything to cover a story. You’d think she would’ve learned by now about keeping herself out of trouble, but apparently not. And as much as he liked chaperoning Elliot’s Boy Scout camping trips, this was very different.

He continued to toss things aside for the trip; extra clothes, hiking boots, Swiss army knife, pistol. Buck looked around for reading material for the flight and grabbed a short stack of Fantastic Four comic books off his cluttered coffee table.

The phone rang.

“Hey, Buck!”

It was Elliot.

“Make it quick, kid. I was about to get in bed.”

“Oh, ok. Sure. So, this might sound weird, but I forgot I’ve got a thing on Wednesday.”

“What do you mean you’ve got `a thing?’”

“Just a thing. So I can stay with you in Costa Rica for, like, just two days.”

“What? How are you getting back?”

“Don’t worry. It’s all taken care of.”

“It is? But your parents are still out of the country!”

“It’s ok! See you in the morning!”

“Wait…what?”

Elliot had already hung up. Things were going from irritating to weird.

- - -

Early the next day Buck picked up Elliot from his house and they both met Shannon at a small private airport just outside of Washington, DC. Shannon’s newspaper had chartered a plane to take them to San Jose, the capital of Costa Rica, so they wouldn’t have to spend time dealing with the standard airport procedures.

Buck had changed out of his usual beach-themed office attire to his preferred adventuring outfit: brown pants, an off-white button down shirt, black vest, aviator sunglasses, and a very beaten-up New York Mets baseball cap that most people assumed was from the original 1962 season.

“Good morning,” she said to Buck as he groggily approached her on the airstrip.

“Morning to you, too,” he said. When he glanced around he saw a small group of people also carrying bags and other equipment, and who looked like they were about to get on the plane along with them. “Who are your friends?”

“Ah, they will be accompanying us on our little expedition. Billy is here to snap photos, and Julie and Mervin are my assistants. But, don’t worry; they won’t get in your way.”

“Swell,” he said sarcastically as he tossed his heavy duffle bag at a surprised Billy for him to put on board.

Moments later they were all on the plane and on their way to Central America. Elliot sat near the front, talking excitedly with the pilot, while listening to his I-Pod. Buck sat across the aisle from Shannon near the back of the plane, and away from the other staff from her newspaper.

“So how do you know this Blastar guy, anyway?” he asked.

“He prefers `Captain’ Blastar. Just remember that when you find him,” she responded.

“Okay, okay. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I was there when he saved the President the first time. I made a deal with him that I would control how much information people learned about him if he talked exclusively to me.”

“Oh.”

“And he’s been my buddy ever since.”

“Nice.”

Buck took out the two photographs of the beach to examine them more closely.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

She took the pictures from him and paused for a moment to muse it over. “You know what. I think I know what that place is. I heard recently about a new city that was being built somewhere in Latin America over the past year or two. I just didn’t realize it was in Costa Rica. It’s supposed to be some city-of-the-future. Or something.”

“I guess the world can always use another resort town.”

“I suppose,” she said. “Do you think that’s where Blastar is headed?”

“Either that or he sent those postcards just to say that he really misses you.”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“Of whom?” he cheerfully retorted.

Shannon rolled her eyes.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Buck said. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye. I sleep better on planes than in hotels for some reason, so I don’t expect to get much tonight after we land.”

And with that he pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes, put the seat all the way back, and quickly fell asleep.

- - -

Buck woke up just in time for their terrifying landing. The plane went into two barrel rolls and then made an abrupt drop before the pilot regained control. Billy made use of his air sickness bag in the front of the plane. Shannon sat calmly trying to read her book throughout the entire ordeal, while Elliot laughed hysterically. Buck’s eyes just rolled and he got dizzy, but he maintained his composure. No worse than some of my training back in boot camp, he thought.

Upon finally landing, the pilot called out apologies to his erstwhile passengers as they scurried away from the plane.

After collecting their luggage, Shannon hailed a cab to take them to their hotel. On the ride over, she and Buck discussed their plan: they would stay in San Jose one night, but then would leave first thing the next morning for the west coast to begin their search.

When they arrived at the hotel, Buck took his duffle bag and immediately left the group to head to the elevator for his room.

“Wait up!” called Elliot. “Aren’t we bunkmates?”

“Not this time,” Buck yelled back as the elevator doors closed.

When Buck entered his room, he was impressed with it as soon as he walked in. Everything about it was big: the bed, bathroom, walk-in closet, two desks, and an oversized, pillow-covered chair were all gigantic. It was an appropriate size for the tall, broad-shouldered Buck. Unlike his tiny apartment he wouldn’t be feeling so cramped here. But it was the jungle theme to the room that he liked best. “Just like being back in Africa,” he said to himself.

He checked his watch; it was 3:30pm. He had two hours before he had to meet the rest of his team for dinner, so he lay down on his enormous bed and, in spite of his usual inability to sleep in hotels, quickly dozed off.

- - -

When Buck awoke, he turned and looked at the clock next to his bed. It read 5:45pm. “Uh-oh. Hope those guys don’t miss me too much.”

He quickly changed into slacks, a blue button-down dress shirt, and a sports jacket, and then bolted out the door.

He arrived at 6:00. The restaurant was on the top floor of the hotel, which rotated so that the customers could get a panoramic view of the city and the sun setting magnificently below the surrounding mountains. Buck scanned the room, but saw no sign of Elliot, Shannon, or her team.

He spotted the restaurant host. “Hey, I’m supposed to meet some friends here. There are four of them. Two ladies and three guys. One by the name of Shannon Galway.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the host said. “We have had no such group show up here tonight. If I could get your name please, maybe I can call down to the concierge to see if there was a change of plans.”

“Sure. I’m Buck Conway.”

“Did you say `Conway’? Why, I do in fact have a note for you. It was left by a woman sitting in the restaurant right now, though she is by herself. Would you care to meet her?”

“Sure; why not?”

The host pointed to a woman sitting alone at a small table near the windows.

“You wanted to talk to me?” he asked her.

“Why, yes, Mr. Conway. I’ve been waiting for you. My name is Voldie Montana.”

“Right. Like Scarface.”

“I don’t get your meaning.”

“Of course not.”

The woman’s smile broke for a split second and then she said, “Have a seat.”

He sat down and looked at Montana. She was nearly as tall as him, wore a black cocktail dress, had long blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and spoke with an American accent. She appeared to be in her 20s, though it was hard to tell. Her smile seemed unnaturally frozen on her face, like some sort of Stepford Wife.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Conway; you don’t. But I know a lot about you. And I have a message from my employer.”

“And who might that be,” he asked.

“I’m not at liberty to say. But, he insists that you end your search for Mr. Blastar immediately. He will only ask nicely once.”

“Is that a threat? And by the way, I hear he prefers to be called `Captain.’”

The woman smiled condescendingly, as though dealing with a petulant child. “It’s up to you. I can offer you a free ticket back to the US and $200,000. But you must never return here.”

“But now I’m all intrigued! So I’m not so sure I’ll be able to go home just yet.”

“This is your only warning. I expected a mercenary like you to just take the money and run. I must say that I’m a bit disappointed,” she said, continuing to smile throughout their conversation.

Buck noticed that standing on either side of him were two unusually large men. “Get up,” one of them said.

“Ah, the goon squad. I was wondering when you guys would get here,” said Buck.

The two men grabbed each of Buck’s arms and led him out of the restaurant and into the elevator. The blonde woman followed behind them.

“Where are my friends?” Buck asked.

“They are in a suite one floor below us. You’ll be with them momentarily.”

They arrived at room 901 and one of the men knocked on the door. It opened and when Buck looked inside he saw Shannon, Julie, Billy, and Mervin standing in the middle of the room, but no Elliot. There were three other men in black pinstripe suits hovering around them holding handguns.

“Hey, guys!” Buck said enthusiastically. “Sorry I was late for dinner.” They looked at him with disbelief. Pointing to the gentlemen who escorted him to the room he asked: “Are these friends of yours, Shannon?”

She closed her eyes as she shook her head at him. “I hate you.”

Montana said to all of them, “Get out of the country. Now. As I explained to Mr. Conway, we’re willing to pay you $200,000 each to leave and never return. If you break this agreement, the consequences will be severe.”

“Alright! Alright! You only have to tell me twice,” Buck said. “C’mon, guys, let’s get out of here and leave our friends to their little slumber party.”

He pushed Billy, Julie, and Mervin out through the door with one arm and then took Shannon’s hand with his other hand. They got in the elevator and took it downstairs to the lobby.

“Where’s Elliot?” he asked.

“I thought he was with you,” said Shannon.

“Oh, great. His parents are gonna kill me. Well, this was a fun vacation,” he said. “Guess I’ll see all of you back in the States after I search the hotel for my nephew.”

Shannon stared at him.

“What?” he asked.

She kept staring at him.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked sardonically.

“No, and neither are you.”

“I didn’t realize that your newspaper could offer more than the two hundred grand those other guys did. Because that’s what it’s gonna take for me to stay.”

“Consider it done. We’re going to find Blastar.”

He looked at her and smirked.

“Swell.”

Buck left the group to head back to his hotel room. On the bed he saw a note on top of his pillow. It was from Elliot.
“Good luck with your search!” it read. “Sorry I missed all the action tonight, but I’ll see you soon.”

It was signed with a smiley face.

Heroes' Handbook

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