Riding Sidecar
Part II
Part II
On Saturday I was so excited that I showed up an hour early. I hid on top of a tiny garage and waited. I do admit that I was also hoping to catch The Victor off guard and learn his identity. After all, fair is fair. It might have worked if the guy working in the garage I was on was making too much noise. I ended up the hour waving to passing pedestrians and missed The Victor showing up or so I thought.
At 10 am, the garage opened up and The Victor wheeled out his motorcycle. I noticed that he had added a yellow sidecar to it. Without even looking up at me, he said, “Okay let’s try her out.” I guess I really do need to work on my stealth.
I tried to hide my surprise, “Wait, you were the guy making all the racket?”
Gesturing at the sidecar like he was showing off a new car, “Just putting the finishing touches on The Crimson Sentinel’s new feature, The Co-Champion.”
Flipping off the garage, I landed just in front of the motorcycle. I gave The Co-Champion a quick unimpressed glance, and turned to The Victor, “A sidecar? Is that my big surprise?”
Getting on his bike, The Victor again gestured at the sidecar, “It’s more than just a sidecar. Hop in and I’ll show you. Your helmet is in the seat.”
Climbing in, I looked at my helmet. It was golden with a face of a squirrel on the visor. The helmet was polished and the paint had just dried. The detail was amazing, if I didn’t know better I would say The Victor had spend as much time on this that he had on The Co-Champion.
I put the helmet on and I looked up at The Victor; he had just put his helmet, it was crimson with a clear capital V on the visor. He was also wearing his trademark grin. Why did he do this? Not just the teamup, but also the whole hero thing.
Before I could continue with my thoughts, they were shattered by a booming voice in my helmet. “Attention all units, the Wild Pack are robbing the Tenth Ave Pantry.”
The Victor kick started the bike and pulled out onto the street. Trying to find something to hold onto as The Victor made a hard right, I asked, “Okay, what was that? And who are the Wild Pack?”
Giving a slight giggle The Victor answered, “More questions, I see. Well the first one is simple, just the police band, the helmets are designed to pickup any call for backup in a twenty block radius. As for the second, it’s kind of complicated. It’s less of who and more of what. The Wild Pack is a group of animal enthusiasts that have spliced their DNA with that a various animals. They are distrustful of anyone that isn’t part of their group, but they normally don’t venture out of their hideout unless they’re short on supplies. Stay out of their way and they usually stay out of yours.”
After that The Victor went quiet and focused on ducking in and out of traffic. I didn’t mind because I wanted to think over what he said. He seemed big on the exposition giving. Not that I minded, my dad once spent an hour explaining the history of New York Library. I remember Blue Be Dad talking about the Wild Pack before, but only to say that he didn’t want to face them alone.
About two minutes later, we pulled in front of Tenth Street Pantry and parked. The entrance was caved in, like someone had driven a car through it. Police were trying to keep away the crowd of onlookers, but turned to look at us. I suddenly felt exposed. I looked at The Victor to see what to do. He just waved at the crowd then folded his arms and lazily leaned back on his seat. I quickly tried to do the same, but the crowd just ignored me and just stared at The Cheerful Champion.
After a minute, a young officer in his early twenties walked over to us. The Victor sat up, looked straight at him, and said, “Rogers, right? Mind giving me the rundown on what happened?”
The officer to a formal stance and rattled off an answer, “Yes, Sir! Three members of the Wild Pack smashed though the front and took off with over $5,000 in food!”
The Victor laughingly said, “At ease, soldier. Did the Mr. Felder see which members it was? Or the direction they went?”
Rogers relaxed, a little, and said, “He said it was Dyer, Dorkin, and Geda. They went east towards Central Park.”
Kick starting the bike, The Victor said, “Very good. Thanks for the assist Rogers; I’ll make sure Officer Huntre hears about it. Let the officers in pursuit know to back off, don’t try to follow them into the park.”
As The Victor pull The Crimson Sentinel out of the parking lot, my mind went over the crowd and what the officer said. They had acted better in front of The Victor than I did. The crowd had been in awe and the officer had acted like The Victor was a superior officer. I know that the Hero Law gave us some freedom, but that was different. The Victor acted like it wasn’t a big deal, but knowing the names of both the owner and a random officer just show that to him it is. I don’t know who Officer Huntre was, but if The Victor wanted me to he would tell me, in great detail.
Turning my thoughts to the Wild Pack, I realized that they must rob this place a lot if the owner knows them by sight. What could they have used on the door? Rogers said the front door was smashed but there wasn’t any tire tracks on the ground. The Victor said they spliced their DNA with animals, but what animal could smash a steel door?
The Victor broke into my thoughts with a shout, “Why couldn’t they have listened?”
Looking up ahead us, I saw two demolished cop cars torn across the entrance of Central Park. A couple of officers were hanging from a few trees, battered but alive. Feeling like I might regret it, I asked, “Whoa, what happened.”
The Victor hopped off the bike and walked over to check on the cops, “Geda. Or as he likes to call himself, Lox.” After getting the cops onto the ground and giving them an all clear, he got back onto The Crimson Sentinel, and headed into the park. I didn’t know that The Victor had medical training. Maybe a hint to his secret identity.
As we rode into the park, I got a sudden chill. I hadn’t thought that that the Wild Pack would be easy to take down, but now I wasn’t sure if they could be.
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