Virus Attack Read online

  Virus Attack

  HERO.COM

  ANDY BRIGGS

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  A Second Chance

  All in a Day’s Work

  Infection

  Breakout

  A New Perspective

  Welcome to the Jungle

  Exit Strategy

  The Beginning of a Nightmare

  Countdown to Extinction

  Hero.com

  A Traitor’s Revenge

  A Note from the Author

  About the Author

  Also by Andy Briggs

  The Great Escape

  Imprint

  For Sab—a real hero!

  A Second Chance

  The sky was dark as gray plumes of ash and steam rose from the ocean, and yet a glimmer of sunlight poked through the haze. It offered just enough light for the burned figure to see his next handhold as he pulled himself farther up the hill that jutted above the blazing jungle.

  What seemed like hours earlier, but could well have been only minutes, Basilisk had been running for his life from a superhero. He’d managed to lose his pursuer in the dense jungle, aided by the volcano smoke that blanketed the landscape. But it had cost him several injuries, and he’d almost broken his leg when he’d fallen down a ravine.

  At the top of the hill he fought for his breath and watched a twin-rotor Chinook helicopter land on the beach. Even through the volcanic atmosphere the Enforcers’ logo was visible on the side. The shape-shifting reptilian superhero called Chameleon was easily recognizable as he climbed onto the tail ramp. Fifteen seconds later the helicopter rose and vanished toward the horizon.

  Basilisk wheezed as the sulfuric smoke drifted over him. He had never thought his life would end on a plateau above a sea of flowing lava. He reflected on his childhood, long ago in Hungary, when he had sneaked from the small hut that he called home to watch shooting stars light up the night sky. His mind’s eye replayed the moment one of the stars grew bigger, illuminating the landscape until it drove into the earth in a blinding explosion.

  He didn’t know it, but the light was high-intensity radiation, although at the time the concept of radiation wasn’t yet understood. The radiation burned his eyes and mutated his body in ways that he’d only just come to understand centuries later. He thought that he’d been blinded. His father had found him and thrown water across the boy’s face to wake him. Then he pried his eyes open—unleashing his child’s new powers. In a bright burst of blue light his father turned to stone under the boy’s gaze.

  Basilisk shook his head sadly. That was the moment his life switched from normality, and he embraced the villain within him.

  That was the day Basilisk was born.

  Ironically, the man who could turn others to stone was about to be killed on an island that was fast becoming liquid rock. The fumes must have been getting to him, since the ground felt as if it was sliding away. For a second Basilisk thought the plateau was crumbling—but it was moving. Tiny stones were dancing from every direction toward a central point where the earth began to bulge. Then a figure rose from the ground, constructed of millions of flowing dirt particles.

  Basilisk watched the hallucination in silence as it formed a squat figure, a little over three feet tall and wearing loose, flowing crimson robes. A dazzling brooch, forming a spiraling worm design, hypnotically reflected the weak rays of the sun. As the last clumps of dirt constructed the newcomer, an almost inhuman face was revealed: a blunt head with a wide flat nose, two holes instead of ears, and not a single strand of hair.

  Basilisk fixated on the brooch, which seemed to spin, drawing him in, clouding his mind. He snapped his gaze away, breaking the brooch’s hypnotic power. Recognition flickered across Basilisk’s face.

  “Am I dead?” he said in a hoarse voice. “I must be. I know you died long ago, Worm!”

  Worm looked at Basilisk with a humorless smile. When he spoke it seemed the words came out as a sigh.

  “You’re not dead or going crazy. Luckily for you, I wasn’t killed. I was trapped; entombed during the war. I was held in a frozen state of cryogenic sleep, only recently enjoying a new breath of freedom. I must say, I am shocked to see how the world has changed so drastically. But I have found my talents still useful, even in this modern world.”

  Basilisk shook his head. He knew Worm’s history—or at least the history of supervillains. “‘Worm is the most despicable rogue to have foiled the Allies during the Second World War,’” he quoted. “At least you were, until Commander Courage killed you.”

  “Commander Courage? Ha! What a heartless soul that hero was! He didn’t kill me, obviously! He left me there, forgotten.” Anger flashed on the villain’s face. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the history books, especially as I plan to rewrite them. But that is another matter. I see since I was here last that the Council of Evil has taken control of world crime.”

  Basilisk tried to laugh, but it came out as a dry cough. Hours earlier he had been unfolding his plan to bring the Council of Evil down, but it had all gone terribly wrong. “The Council is a bunch of ignorant fools.”

  “I agree! What a stupid idea the Council is! Almost seventy years I was in frozen sleep, and the first thing they ask for when I awake is a permit! A permit? To conduct evil? I was flabbergasted! It’s all red tape and form filling now. Whatever happened to holding countries to ransom at breakfast and trying to destroy the moon by dinner? I should get myself on the Council so I have influence over them. Show them that the old ways were the best.” Worm circled as he talked, and Basilisk couldn’t help but notice the soil and rock stuck to his feet like molasses.

  “And what better way to get them to trust me than by turning you in? They’re offering a plump reward for you. Dead or alive.”

  Basilisk grunted, but he stopped as a sharp pain shot through his ribs from the effort. “You’re nothing more than a glorified bounty hunter now? How the mighty have fallen.”

  Worm stopped circling and jabbed a finger at Basilisk. “Remember I said dead or alive. I have no preference either way.”

  Basilisk’s body was aching, but his mind was still sharp. He knew Worm was once a respected criminal mastermind, but he was definitely out of his element in the modern world. However, he was Basilisk’s only ticket off this island; all he had to do was convince Worm not to deliver him to the Council. Besides, Worm had powers that Basilisk suspected might be of use for his own schemes.

  Basilisk held up his hands in a feeble gesture. “Wait! We both agree that the Council of Evil needs to change. But it’s too strong to attack directly. Believe me, I’ve tried. There is an alternative, however.”

  Worm’s curiosity was piqued. “Continue.”

  “The Council is creating new villains through Villain.net.”

  Worm nodded. His brief introduction to the Internet had left him thoroughly bewildered, but he didn’t want Basilisk to know that. “I am aware of this. I was told there were fewer Primes being born with superpowers than there used to be. It’s a sensible solution to ensure our survival.”

  “But the Hero Foundation has their own Web site to recruit heroes. And Commander Courage runs it.”

  Worm bristled at the mention of the superhero. It was bad enough to discover that the hero who had imprisoned him for almost seventy years was still alive, but that he was leading the Hero Foundation—a group he had established during the Second World War—added insult to injury.

  Basilisk saw Worm’s fists clench, and an expression of hatred cloud his ugly features. Despite the pain racking his body, Basilisk smiled. He always had been gifted at manipulating people. He recalled the plan his protégé, Jake Hunter, had suggested. Based
on a school prank, but possessing a kernel of genius: “Hero.com is the Foundation’s main line of defense. If we launch a virus attack on the Hero.com site, it will cripple it long enough for us to be able to launch an assault on the Hero Foundation without being hindered by any unwelcome superheroes.”

  Worm nodded, although he didn’t fully understand what Basilisk meant. “And I can kill Courage with my own hands.”

  “With Commander Courage dead, we can control the Foundation. Bring Hero.com back online as our own weapon and use it to battle the Council of Evil—head-to-head.”

  The plan had been percolating in Basilisk’s mind since the moment Jake Hunter had suggested it to him. Better still, with Hunter out of the picture, it was an idea he could claim as his own. “Think about it, Worm. A world with no heroes and no way to make anymore. We’d be as powerful as the Council.”

  Worm made a harrumph noise from the back of his throat as he considered the suggestion. “I must admit to being a little behind modern jargon after having been locked away for so long. I won’t pretend to know precisely what you mean.”

  Basilisk sighed. He didn’t have the energy to explain the advent of computer technology and the origin of the Internet from its humble beginnings as a secret U.S. government project. But Worm’s ignorance could be used to Basilisk’s advantage. “That’s why you need me. I lived through this technological boom. There is little I don’t know.”

  Worm considered the idea a bit more. It boiled down to revenge on his most hated enemy, coupled with the fact that if he ran the Foundation, then he could operate without the meddlesome Council of Evil breathing down his neck.

  “I could use a sidekick,” Worm mused. Basilisk flinched at the very mention of being a sidekick, but luckily Worm didn’t notice. Across the island, cloaked by billowing clouds of ash, the volcano loudly erupted once more. The ground shook furiously.

  Worm finally made up his mind.

  “And you think this technological scheme will work?”

  Basilisk used the last of his strength to prop himself up on his elbow. “I assure you. I have a three-phase plan to bring down every hero on this planet and crush the Hero Foundation once and for all. Then once we resurrect Hero.com under our own control, the Council will be unable to stop us. The world would be ours for the taking! Then you could conduct your own brilliant plans unhindered.” Basilisk hated being sycophantic, but it did serve his purpose right now.

  Worm nodded with the slight hint of a smile. “So be it. Let us leave this infernal place.”

  Without warning he grabbed Basilisk’s arm. Basilisk felt a tickling sensation as his atoms began to vibrate and disperse. Both figures rapidly dissolved into fine particles that vanished into the quaking ground.

  All in a Day’s Work

  The rusted bow of a battered cargo vessel churned through the ocean, its destination a sliver of land on the horizon. Faded lettering on the dented bow revealed the ship’s name: The Watchman. It moved with no running lights on, making it a black whale cutting through the sea. Dense smoke poured from its weatherworn funnel, but otherwise the vessel looked abandoned. At first glance, no one would have suspected that the crew were all ruthless smugglers, armed with automatic weapons and not a conscience among them.

  They were being tracked by three superheroes silently flying above. The heroes were all thinking the same thing—the automatic weapons below were nowhere near as dangerous as the fact that they were out way past their parents’ curfews. The consequences of that were too dire to contemplate.

  Toby squinted, trying to make out more detail on the boat. He regretted not having tried to download some kind of night-vision power from Hero.com. But then again, he’d had no idea they would be out so late—plus he wasn’t sure what the stick-figure icon for it would be. He just hoped none of them had downloaded any useless powers, as they sometimes did.

  Lorna and Emily flew close on either side, talking in low voices.

  “I’m getting cold,” complained Lorna. Having learned from previous adventures, they were all dressed in thick black clothes, but the chill still permeated.

  Toby didn’t bother replying. Over the last few weeks his sister’s complaints had increased with each job they had downloaded from Hero.com. His best friend, Pete, had even started to agree with her, which wasn’t good news. Luckily Pete wasn’t within earshot. Toby glanced around, suddenly aware that his friend had been gone longer than he’d anticipated. He glanced at the lights on the horizon.

  “We’re running out of time,” he warned. “We can’t wait for Pete. We have to stop this thing now.”

  “It’s a massive boat. How are we supposed to stop it?” said Emily.

  “Why bother? This is something we should leave for the police,” Lorna grumbled.

  “Police don’t patrol out here,” Toby snapped back.

  “The coast guard, or customs, or border patrol or whatever you call it. What’s the point in having these great powers if we’re just stopping normal people? What about the supervillains out there? We’re supposed to be fighting them.”

  Toby rolled his eyes. “It was on the job board and it needed to be done.”

  The list of jobs on Hero.com seemed to be growing by the day, although not every job was a direct result of an errant supervillain. “Besides, I thought we decided after the trouble with Doc Tempest that we should take things a little easier?”

  “You decided, Toby,” Lorna retorted.

  Emily tried to avoid getting involved with the argument. Which was just as well, as she detected movement on the deck below. Figures had left a cabin and were running to the bow of the ship. The moonlight glinted tellingly off the rifles they carried in both hands.

  “Shush, you two! Look, they’re coming out!” she said—maybe a little too loudly. One of the figures looked up and began yelling in Spanish. He pointed at the three figures with the barrel of his rifle.

  Toby realized with dread that, while arguing, they had moved so that the moon was behind them—highlighting their silhouettes so the men below could easily spot them.

  “Down!” he yelled.

  They all plummeted just as the dull clatter of gunfire broke out across the deck. Bullets shrieked through the air—too close for comfort.

  Toby dived straight for the ocean’s surface, aware that he hadn’t downloaded any power that would render him bulletproof. He was so low that foam from the boat’s wake soaked his chest. He glanced up to see that Lorna had thrown up a protective shield of energy that rippled as bullets harmlessly struck it. Emily cowered close behind her. Typical of Lorna to pick a defensive power, thought Toby. Not that selecting powers on Hero.com was a straightforward process.

  Chameleon, the only heroic Prime that Toby had ever met, had told them there was an instruction manual on the Web site. When he’d eventually found it, Toby had been baffled by the complex jargon used. He did learn that the stick figure icons, which represented the powers, were laid out with some degree of logic. Lorna always seemed smart enough to pick the most useful powers for their missions, whereas he just chose the most fun-looking ones.

  His thoughts were interrupted as a deckhand leaned over the gunwale of the ship and spotted him. Toby could make out the square night-vision goggles the man wore. The muzzle flash of the weapon flickered and a stream of bullets zipped past him.

  Time to end this, he thought.

  Toby barrel-rolled to one side to make himself less of a target. He extended his hands and fine black tendrils shot from his fingertips, each no wider than a strand of cotton, but bunched together they were as thick as rope. The sticky tendrils splattered against the man’s night-vision goggles and the gun. Toby yanked the strands back, tearing the equipment from him. He shook his hands and the strands broke away, falling into the sea. The startled man stared in Toby’s direction as if he’d just seen a ghost, then spun around and ran across the deck, shouting in panic.

  Above, Emily peeked around Lorna’s energy shield and flicked her hands. A
pair of golden orbs, no bigger than Ping-Pong balls, sprang from her palms and raced toward the crew. She watched in fascination as the heat-seeking orbs were guided toward two men, striking them in the chest. The orbs exploded with a dull plop and the men were catapulted across the deck. They slammed into the bulkhead, weapons skittering away.

  A third man gaped as his colleagues were blown aside, and then looked up as if realizing for the first time that the two girls were suspended in the air as if by magic. He hesitated in firing—giving Emily an opportunity to fire another set of golden orbs.

  The man dropped his weapon and fled. He glanced behind him to see the orbs were weaving across the deck in his direction. He skidded around a corner leading to the main cabins and checked behind him. The orbs were relentlessly pursuing. He increased his pace and threw himself into an open cabin door, pushing his whole body against the steel door to close it.

  Both orbs hit the door with such thunderous force that the metal buckled and the door was blasted from its hinges. The warped steel propelled the man across the cabin and into the far wall, knocking him unconscious.

  Toby gained altitude to join Emily and Lorna.

  “I thought there would be more of them,” said Toby. “And I thought pirates would be a lot tougher.”

  “Wrong type of pirates,” said Lorna in her best “ye olde pirate” accent.

  “It’s turning!” exclaimed Emily. As they watched, the boat increased speed and began to slide in the water. “Must be somebody at the wheel.”

  Toby felt slightly disappointed at what seemed like an easy victory—he had been expecting the mission to be a lot more fun, but knew better than to say so out loud. “We didn’t need Pete after all, the slacker. Let’s get onto the boat and stop it.”

  Toby wondered if Pete was okay. The last time he’d seen him was when Pete had plummeted underwater several minutes ago, convinced he had downloaded aquatic powers. Toby wasn’t too concerned, since Pete was a strong swimmer. Besides, his friend had been acting differently since they had been using the superpowers. Toby just hoped being a hero wasn’t going to his head, like it was with his sister.