Project ROWDY 2-33

Static hissed across the screen, white noise and digital snow before the signal finally locked onto a new channel. Channel 7 Action News flashes across a screen as the eagle logo spins, all chrome and blue and red and everything else to the point of overdone patriotism. The anchor’s tie was crooked, TV makeup melting…

The backyard was full of capes — some of them actual physical capes — as much as it was packed tight with balloons of every color. The mass of superpowers and costumes in a normal setting was something that had stopped finding all that surreal about fifty-something disasters back.  Now it was just another Wednesday,…

Mark tore through the upper atmosphere, speed bleeding contrails behind his boots, hugging the cloudline because maybe the wind could choke off the thoughts screaming in his skull. “He’s different… since they died. Angrier. Colder.” His gut reaction fired up instantly as Mom’s words came back: Dad wouldn’t. Dad’s… Dad. But the words collapsed halfway…

Laying on his bed, Mark Grayson stared down at his physics textbook and tried not to think too much about his physics teacher. Actually, ex-physics teacher. Or actually actually, his late physics teacher. The one who’d gone super-villain last week. The one who’d turned the cool kids into cyborg suicide bombs. The one who suicide…