THE AGENTS OF JUSTICE

Ernie walked briskly down the foggy street in a section of New Victoria called Bludgeon Town. He kept in the shadows, avoiding the gas lamps. He didn’t want to be spotted. Not yet.

His boots clicked on the cobblestones as he crossed the street. A steam-driven car approached. Ernie sidestepped to avoid getting drenched as its tires splashed through a puddle. Then he stopped to watch the driver. It was a clockwork dressed in a coat and tie. In the backseat sat a man in a top hat with a white scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. A beautiful woman sat beside him.

Ernie pulled the collar of his coat up around his neck and crossed over to the street corner, where a stray dog pawed at a trash can outside a butcher shop. The dog stopped to look at Ernie and growled. Ernie ignored it.

He was running late. According to the clock tower, it was nearing midnight. Ernie hoped his parents were still asleep. He didn’t want them to worry, not that they needed to. One of his superpowers was being able to heal at an incredible rate.

He heard a shuffling sound behind him. Ernie walked faster down Wellington Row. Though it was Sunday, the pubs were filled with unsavory patrons. Night mongrels, they were called. Thieves, charlatans, and even murderers were among their number. They were the lords of Bludgeon Town, but Ernie wasn’t here for them. He was looking for slavers—men and women who made their living by abducting people and selling them to the highest bidder.

His heart started to race, and his hands began to sweat. Ernie closed his eyes as his breathing grew shallow. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered. The words didn’t seep past his ears. He turned down an alley.

It was dark. The fog was thick. Ernie could hear two tomcats fighting, followed by the sound of glass breaking. The footsteps still echoed behind him. Ernie smiled, but there was no joy in the expression. It was his nerves. He was frightened, yet he had never felt more alive.

Ernie looked up when he heard two people arguing through an open window, but he couldn’t stop. He was on a mission. Lives were at stake.

The scuff of shoes padding along behind him continued. Ernie risked a glance over his shoulder, but all he could see was a silhouette. The man was large, with broad shoulders and a wide belly. His hands were in his pockets, and his strides were long.

As the man passed under a gas lamp, Ernie caught a brief glimpse. His head was covered in stubble and so was his chin. There was a scar that kept his lip in a permanent snarl, and a tattoo stretched across his neck. It was a black widow, the symbol of the slavers guild.

“I got you,” Ernie whispered. He’d seen the man before, or at least his picture.

Tom Glover was his name. Annie, the changeling who could control machines, had accessed the chief constable’s database using her DE Tablet, a portable computing device designed by Charles Babbage. She’d pulled the records of all known slavers, and Tom was at the top of the list.

Ernie passed a wall of wooden barrels behind a pub. Ahead was a brick wall. It was a dead end, and Ernie was almost there. He clenched his jaw when the first bell sounded, announcing that it was turning midnight. Just a few more paces, Ernie thought. He started counting down, just like he had practiced.

Ten… nine… eight…

Ernie could still hear Tom following him.

Seven… six… five…

He slowed down. He needed Tom to think he was an easy target.

Four… three… two…

The echo of Tom’s steps grew closer.

One.

Ernie stopped. He could feel his heart in his throat, and his lungs had trouble holding air. His skin itched, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. The shuffling stopped. Ernie turned to face his hunter.

“Ho there, laddie. Are you lost?” Tom asked. He kept his hands in his pockets.

Ernie looked to the right and then the left. He didn’t have to pretend to be nervous. It came naturally.

“What’s wrong? You ain’t one of them dumb urchins, is you?” Tom asked.

A deep breath, followed by another. “No, sir,” Ernie said. He removed his cap, wringing it in his hands like a wet towel. His eyes were focused on his boots as though he were speaking to royalty.

“Well, then,” Tom said. “What brings you to old Bludgeon Town? Them boots is too fancy for a street urchin. I’m guessing you’re one of them changelings come to rid the world of the likes of me. That about right?”

Ernie raised his head. He threw his shoulders back and his chest out. Then he smiled. Those nerves had given way to a deep rage. He was ready to enact justice that was, in his mind, long overdue. “Something like that.”

As the twelfth bell sounded, a wooden barrel tipped over. The lid fell away before a thick black liquid spread across the alley. Tom spun around in time to see Yi emerge from the shadows. His hands were cupped and filled with flames. The glow, reflected in his amber goggles, was eerie against his face. His smile was sinister.

“What’s this? Two of you, is it?” Tom asked. “Well, this must be my lucky day.”

Yi brought the fire to his lips and then blew. The fire streamed from his hands toward the tar before exploding into an inferno. Tom was trapped behind a wall of flames. So was Ernie, but he wasn’t alone.

A bat fluttered down from the dark sky before swooping around Tom’s head. He swatted at the bat with meaty hands, but it was too quick. It taunted the slaver, and then it bit the back of his neck.

Tom slapped at his neck, but the bat was already out of reach. “Them things have rabies,” he said. His eyes filled with worry.

“You never know,” Ernie said. “It might have been a vampire.”

“There ain’t no such thing,” Tom said, though his face looked nervous.

The bat shimmered as though it were out of focus before it disappeared. Then, with a pop, a girl with green skin and red eyes took its place. It was Hale, the shape-shifter.

“What is this?” Tom asked. He rubbed his eyes as though what he had seen wasn’t possible. Yi walked through the blaze to join them. Sparks leaped from behind his goggles as fire burned in his hands. He threw flames at Tom’s feet. Tom jumped out of the way, but Yi was relentless. He laughed as Tom danced a jig.

“I’ll not be mocked by the likes of you!” he shouted.

Tom leaped at Yi, who stumbled back before falling to the ground. A rope weighted down by iron balls at each end flew out of one of the windows above and latched around Tom’s ankles, tying him up. Yi rolled away as Tom tore at the bonds, but he couldn’t break free.

“I’ll kill you!” he shouted. “Every last one of you.”

Denton jumped down from the window. His tail swished as he walked over to the slaver. Then he snarled, revealing his curved incisors, and held out a pair of handcuffs for Tom to see.

“You get close enough and I’ll break your neck, boy,” Tom said.

“I doubt it,” Denton said. He grabbed Tom’s wrist, and the slaver tried to pull away. He swung at Denton with his free hand. Denton dodged before wrenching Tom’s arm behind his back. Then he latched on the handcuffs.

“Where’s Tejan?” Denton asked between heavy breaths.

Tejan Chandra, a small boy with dark skin and raven hair, walked out from behind the wall of barrels. His eyes kept darting from Tom to the door of the pub.

“It’s okay,” Ernie said as he placed his hand on Tejan’s shoulder. “We’ll protect you. All you need to do is make this guy forget his past… forget that he was ever a slaver… and forget our faces.” Then Ernie reached into his pocket. He pulled out a mask and covered his face. So did Hale and Yi. Ernie tossed a mask to Denton. He hesitated before he put it on.

“Are you ready?” Ernie asked.

Tejan nodded. He walked over to Tom, who was trembling in fear.

“Please,” he said. “I promise I won’t bother you no more. Old Tom will change his ways. I’ve seen the light. Please!”

Tejan placed his fingertips on Tom’s temples and took a deep breath. Then he turned back to Ernie. Ernie nodded. Tejan closed his eyes.

When it was over and Tom’s memories of slaving had been wiped, Denton hoisted Tom over his shoulder and carried the slaver’s unconscious body to the street, where he tied Tom to a gas lamp with a thick piece of rope. Denton left a note pinned to Tom’s shirt.

We will not live in fear.

It was signed The Agents of Justice.