Read Sidekicked for Free Online Page B

other hand, are chiseled in stone in the back of the room.
    â€œAs you all are aware,” Mr. Masters says, “and as two of you are intensely aware, yesterday saw the capture of yet another villain by the forces of goodness and light.” Mr. Masters says goodness and light the same way my mom says cream and sugar when ordering coffee. Automatically. Like it’s a foregone conclusion. He presses a button on the remote in his hand, and an image pops up on the screen behind him. The first slide shows a photo of the Killer Bee, wings clipped, being turned over to the police.
    â€œHis name is James Cooper. Though we don’t know a great deal about him as yet, we have picked up a few details. Adult male, age thirty-three. Lives in the basement of his mother’s house. Can anyone guess what he did for a living . . . that is, before he became a missile-toting, sidekick-capturing maniac?”
    â€œHoney factory?” I venture, a little sarcastically.
    Eric spells out postal worker . I think he’s trying to be funny, too.
    â€œChemist,” Gavin says, looking at me because he knows I’m good at chemistry.
    â€œEntomologist,” Jenna guesses.
    Mr. Masters smiles and points. “Right. More specifically, an apiologist. Those drones of his were under the influence of some substance manufactured from the chemicals used in bee communications and were not actually acting of their own accord. They are being treated and will be thoroughly interrogated, but as of now, it seems they were innocent, following orders against their will.
    â€œThe rest of the facts of the case are these,” Mr. Masters continues. “Sometime around four twenty-five yesterday afternoon, the Killer Bee’s drones intercepted Jenna and Andrew on their way home from school, luring them into a trap by fabricating an armed robbery.”
    I look over at Jenna. This was technically her fault. She was the one who spotted the three drones in the alleyway, armed with harpoon guns, huddled over a fourth figure who was struggling against them. By the time I fumbled my mask out of my pack, she was already in costume, ready for anything. We didn’t know it was a ruse—that the struggling figure was just another drone, or that two more of them were hiding behind the Dumpster—though I probably should have heard them breathing. I guess that one’s on me. I have a bad habit of listening to Jenna’s heartbeat whenever we walk home together, and it kind of washes everything else out. I still think maybe we could have beaten them, but six against one and a half isn’t good odds.
    Besides, Jenna wasn’t worried. She had faith.
    Mr. Masters clicks his remote and a second slide pops up, showing Jenna and me helplessly hanging over the pool. Seeing it on the news, it was kind of cool. Now, sitting in front of Mr. Masters, it’s just embarrassing.
    â€œThe Silver Lynx and the Sensationalist were taken by force and transported to the Justicia community pool, where the perpetrator had assembled an elaborate execution involving a crane and a thousand gallons of hydrochloric acid.”
    â€œTold you so,” I whisper. Jenna smiles.
    â€œWhether he really intended to kill you,” Masters says, looking at Jenna and me specifically, “or was simply using you is moot.”
    I want to object. Moot is not a word I would use to describe my death. Tragic , perhaps. Premature , definitely. Definitely not moot . But the look on Mr. Masters’s face suggests I should keep my mouth shut. A third slide clicks into place, showing the Fox in all of her blazing, electric, sword-wielding glory, holding her latest prize aloft. “At precisely five thirty-two, the Fox arrived at the scene and quickly dispatched the drones and apprehended the villain. The Sensationalist and the Silver Lynx managed to escape with minor injuries and without being identified, and all the drones were eventually rounded