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Author's Note: Here's part one of my Green Arrow Retcon. I'm not sure how long this is going to be so at the moment its just going to start with an origin story. I'm not even sure how long that's going to be. I'm just going to take it one step at a time and hope you enjoy. Green Arrow is copyrighted and trademarked by DC Comics.

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Chapter One:

He punched me in the gut, I gasped out in pain.

The others around him started laughing as my mother screamed. I fought back tears and tried as hard as I could to get out of his arms. But there was no use, the guy was built like a linebacker, his arms were like tree trunks. I was going to kill him though. I was cutting to cut his heart out and watch him bleed out on the deck. I was going to make him and all the others pay for what they did to my father.

We were on a sailing vacation. We were three days out of Miami when we got caught in a little squall. We have a small boat but we were able to manage the storm pretty good. Unfortunately when it was over, we were a little off course. My father, Gregory, isn’t a sailor but my mother is. She grew up on it, sailing about Nantucket and other places. She was able to get us out of the storm but by then we were already far from US waters.

My mother is named Jessica, she’s a college professor, she teaches Medieval English Literature. I grew up on tales of King Arthur, Ivanhoe and Robin Hood. Though Arthur was cool I was always had a thing for the Emerald Archer, that’s what my mother called him. It had something to do with some old Robin Hood movie, the outlaw was always depicted as wearing green. When I was a kid, I convinced her to buy me some green tights and she made me a felt hat like Robin’s. I pranced around the house with a toy bow and pretty to rob from the rich and give to the poor.

All that was over now.

We noticed the speedboat coming up fast. It was a sleek silver thing; I think they called them cigar boats. It looked like something a drug dealer used in some dad TV movie. My father was the first one to notice the men with guns. There were six of them, each wielding AK-47s. WE tried to outrun them but you know how it goes. There was barely any wind and they had a fricking speedboat. They caught up to us pretty quick. The men were an assortment of nationalities. I recognized only one language though: Spanish. I was currently taking and failing it. There were two Spanish speakers amongst them and they were bickering.

‘We don’t have any money” My father had tried to scare them off. He reached for the mooring hook that was attached to the inside of the boat.

One of the guys, a huge black man, stepped forward, putting his foot on our book, anchoring the two boats together. “A fine boat like dis” he said, his accent clearly Jamaican. “You got to be kidding me, mon.”

My father shook his head. “There’s nothing.”

That’s when they shot him. One of the Spaniards pulled out a gun and put one in my father’s head and another in his chest. My mother screamed and I froze. I didn’t know what to do. They all jumped onto our boat, two of the men grabbed my mother and held her while a third came toward me. I snapped out of it then and tried to fight. Unfortunately I was a weakling. I’m about five six, maybe 120 pounds when wet. When I tried to fight back that’s when one of them grabbed me from behind while the other punched me in the chest.

They hit me in the stomach again.

“That chica can really take it” said one of the Spaniards.

The others laughed. I spit in my abuser’s face which caused them to laugh more. It caused him to punch me again, harder this time.

“She’s feisty too.”

God I hated it when people mistook me for a girl. Puberty wasn’t kind to me. Unlike most fifteen year old boys, I had yet to experience it. At least not in the way most guys did. My voice never changed, I didn’t grow any taller nor did I get the muscles that my friend Roy got. I gained weight but it was all in my hips and my chest. At first I thought my chest weight was my pecs growing out but it turns out they were actually breasts. That’s right; I’m a boy with breasts and a girl’s butt. My doctor called it Intersexed and told me when I was older I could get the surgery to fix it all. But in the meantime I was some kind of freak, neither boy nor girl. It didn’t help matters that I had shoulder length sun bleached hair and a girl’s face. If the guys didn’t know me, they hit on me constantly.

It was so fricking embarrassing.

“I love them when they’re cute and innocent like this” said one of the other thugs as he reached over and grabbed my face.

“Leave him alone” my mother screamed.

I think she realized her mistake as soon as she screamed it. She clamped a hand over her mouth but it was too late.

None of the guys were laughing anymore. The one holding my arms grabbed my hair. The one squeezing my face sneered at me and ripped my Rockets shirt open. He laughed because it was clear I had breasts. At school no one knew because I wore a compression vest. But on vacation I agreed to allow them to go free. Well not free actually. I was an A cup by now. My mother talked me into wearing a bra for the trip. Yesterday she surprised me with a bikini. I protested but finally agree to wear it but underneath my clothes. My shrink, Dr. Weisinger, told me it might be a good idea to try being a girl, at least during vacation so my mother reinforced it.

That is until now.

“What are you smoking lady” said the guy who ripped open my shirt.

He grabbed my breasts, giving them a good squeeze. I groaned in pain, it hurt like a son of a bitch. I reacted by kneeing him in the balls. HE stumbled back; my Puncher hit me in the gut again. I gasped out, if I wasn’t being held I’d probably fall on my face.

“Put her on her back” shouted the Jamaican, clearly he was the boss. “Teach the little bitch some respect.”

I screamed. My mother screamed. They dragged me to the floor, I kicked and struggled but there was no use. One guy held my arms while the other grabbed my board shorts. He tore off them off it a giant tug. Underneath I was wearing the bikini bottoms but I hadn’t hidden anything. I did a lot of research on the Internet about my condition and how a lot of guys out there tried to embrace it. I found a lot of transgender sites and read a lot of books. I knew all the tricks but the last three days were just me and my parents. I didn’t need to hide anything down there. So I left the gaff down in the cabin this morning.

“What the fuck is this?” shouted the man who had my legs currently spread my shorts in his hands.

“Holy shit we’ve got ourselves a little fag.”

My mother creamed and cried. She told them to leave me alone, to take her instead. The two guys holding her smacked her around. I screamed at them, calling them all a bunch of fucking cowards.

“You want to be a real girl, you fag” he asked, throwing my shorts away and pulling out a knife. “That can be arranged.”

“What the hell is the matter with you” said the Jamaican as he grabbed the man’s arm, stopping him from cutting off my you know what.

“You see It” said the man with the knife. “The little fucker is mocking us.”

“We’ve already done enough thanks to you and your itchy trigger finger” said the Jamaican, pointing to my dead father.

“What the hell are we supposed to do with It, then?”

“Throw him overboard.”

My mother screamed then. She bit the arm of the man holding her and ran for me. She took the guys holding me by surprise. I managed to get free and tried to run to her. But the guy with the knife got in-between us. He stuck the blade in my mother’s chest. I screamed and was grabbed from behind. I kicked and fought. Whoever it was carried me to the side of the boat. I screamed for my mother. She fell to the deck, gasping. The guy with the knife stabbed her again and again. The Jamaican was shouting at him but he wasn’t paying attention.

“What do you want me to do with him?” asked the guy holding me.

The Jamaican sighed. “This has got way out of hand. This was a simple drug run and then you morons had to fuck it up.”
My mother fell to the deck, laying a few feet from my father. I could see she was dead. I started crying, fighting as hard as I could to get away. But the guy holding me was too strong.

“What about him?” asked the guy holding me?

The Jamaican groaned. “Take him down below and lock him in the cabin. We’ll get some gas and burn the boat.”

“No” I screamed as the man carried me toward the cabin. “I’ll find you; I’ll find all of you sons of bitches.”

I’m not sure what happened. I don’t know if it was a burst of adrenaline or what. But somehow I managed to get free. The man let me go and I slammed down on his foot. I went for the man who killed my mother. He was laughing and not paying attention. HE was holding his knife; I snatched it out of his hand and threw it at the Jamaican. My aim was off; the blade only grazed his face. He screamed out in pain and double over. The guy with the knife pulled out a gun and raised it to fire.

I did the only thing I could do. I ran for the side of the boat and dived into the water.

>---------------------------------------------->

I used to be on the dive team. It was the JV squad but it wasn’t any less important. I had to quit when my condition started to show itself. It would have been real hard to explain why I had breasts. I was real upset at the time but at least I had archery to full back on.

I hit the water in a straight dive. It was one of the more complicated ones but I was always able to pull it off. I went down about six feet or so. Luckily we were in the southern Atlantic because the water was nice and warm. Unfortunately I was far from out of danger. Several bullets whizzed into the water around me. One narrowly missed my head. I stayed underwater and swam to the other side of the boat. I poked my head up just above the water, to take a breath. I was about to duck back down when I heard them talking.

“Where the hell did the little half bitch go?” I recognized that voice as the guy who killed my parents.

“Never mind her mon” said the Jamaican. “Get the gas so we can light this thing and get out of here.”

Damn it, they’re actually going to burn our boat.

I ducked back into the water when one of the thugs walked by. I popped back up when he was gone. I was a pretty decent swimmer and could hold my breath underwater for a couple of minutes. I could have stayed out here all day, listening to these morons. But I should have made a break for the shore. I knew enough about the ocean to know the general direction to go. But it still didn’t mean I wanted to go. These bastards were going to burn my parents’ bodies and leave them out her to rot. I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.

I fought back whatever grief I was feeling and ducked back into the water. Their speedboat was right alongside ours. I swam over, hoping there was enough cover underneath them so they wouldn’t see me. The water was crystal clear today and the brightest blue I’d ever seen. My mother loved the light blue water. That’s why we always went to Florida on vacation. She said it was much better than the cobalt blue water of the Hamptons where she grew up. We were hundreds of miles from the Hamptons now and who knew how many from Florida. After the storm last night we could have been anywhere.

I poked my head up as one of the thugs climbed over into the speedboat. He was rummaging around, looking for the gas apparently. After a few minutes he pulled up a red plastic container, like the one we put our lawnmower gas in. He lifted it up in the air, waving it about so his friends could see it.

“Stop being such an ass and get over here.”

He grunted and left the boat.

I took that as the opportunity I was looking for. I grabbed the edge of their boat and pulled myself over the side. It wasn’t nearly as big as our sailboat and there was hardly any room for the six of them. It was clearly meant for small time transport which meant they probably had a larger boat nearby. I started to rummage through their stuff, which wasn’t much. They had a cooler full of beer and a whole stash of dirty magazines scattered about. Naked women didn’t do anything for me but not without trying. For some reason I couldn’t get it up when looking at magazines like that. I once mentioned it to my medical doctor; Dr. Papp and he told me it was more than likely due to my condition.

According to him, I was more boy than girl. I argued that point on more than one occasion, not only with him but with my parents and Dr. W. My penis was fully functional but I’d never be able to have kids because I had no testicles. They never descended when I hit puberty. Instead I had a pair of ovaries and everything else that made me a girl. Except I wasn’t a girl, at least not as far as I was concerned. It annoyed me that everyone, my parents included, seemed to think the right course of action was to make me a full girl at eighteen.

I tossed the magazines aside, looking for something I could use. I found what I was looking for underneath of the seats. It was an inflatable life raft. We had one of these on our boat too but there’s no way I could get to it now. I tossed it in the water and jumped in after it. I went under again, dragging the unflated raft down with me. It was pretty hard because it was meant to float but I managed. I swam back over to our boat and watched from underwater as they lit it on fire. A small part of me wanted to jump up and scream at them. But instead I stayed where I was and watched as everything I loved burned.

The thugs got back onto their boat. I popped up out of the water as they started the engine and took off. I made sure I got the name of the boat: The Lady Catherine. I committed it to memory. You fuckers are so dead.

I tried to climb back onto our boat but wasn’t able to do so. The gas burned quick and soon the whole deck was a raging inferno. I cried as I swam a few feet away, the heat and flames too intense to be closer. Soon the mast caught flame and fell into the water. The fiberglass of the hull popped and crackled. I tried one more time to get close but it was no use. Finally I let it go, I let my family go.

I pulled the pin for the raft and inflated it. It wasn’t as state of the art as ours but there was enough there to help me survive. I climbed over the side and flopped on my back. I took a deep breath and cried harder than I’ve ever cried before.

My raft got caught in the current and carried me away from everything.

>----------------------------------------------->

I must have fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, I was lying on my back, a soft surface beneath me. But something was very wrong. I drifted for a few hours; the only sound was the lapping of the waves and the only smell was the salty sea air. But now I could hear the banging on my door and could smell breakfast. I sat up and found myself in my room. I was lying on my bed, the sun was shining through my window and everything was ok. Was I dreaming? If I was it was the most horrible nightmare in the whole wide world.

I got up and stretched. My hair flopped around my ears and my horrid chest swayed a bit underneath my tank top. I wish those had been a part of the nightmare too. I hated waking up feeling them on my chest. I wish there was a way to remove them and the damn things in my stomach. I don’t care if I don’t have any balls, it was better than having breasts.

I stumbled out of bed and across the room to my bathroom. I have my own private bathroom. We live in a large colonial, it belonged to my grandfather. It was one of his summer homes; he gifted it to my mother when she graduated college. My parents meant when my father’s contracting company was hired to do some remodeling. They hit it off, started dating and got married two years later. My grandfather thought my father was too old for her---there was only a ten year difference---he also thought she could do better. He disowned her after that. He still sent me presents and things for my birthday and Christmas but I never him. At least not personally. I don’t think there was anyone in the world who’d hadn’t heard of him.

I stumbled into the bathroom, not paying too much attention as I washed my face, brushed my teeth and stumbled back out into my room. I couldn’t even remember if today was a school day. In my dream it had been summer but a lot of people usually dreamed about summer. Especially if it was like November or something. Was it November?

I didn’t bother to get dressed. I walked out into the hall, wearing my usual tank top and bed pants. I stumbled down the hall; my mother came out of the upstairs laundry room, with a basket in her hands.

“Honestly Jo Jo, do you have to wear that shirt to bed” She said, shaking her head.

Jo Jo was her nickname for me. My real name was…ummm….Jonas, that’s right. I’m Jonas Oliver, fourteen year old, high school freshman. I guess I’m a lot more tired than I thought. I shrugged my shoulders, mumbled a reply to my mother and followed her down the stairs. The kitchen was off to the side of the stairs. It was absolutely huge. It had an island in the center, state of the art appliances and a room off the back. We called it our second dining room and it’s where we ate breakfast. It was really a sun room, all four walls made of glass, three of which faced the large lake we had in the back of our house.

We owned six acres; most of it was taken up by the lake. The rest of it was consumed by the forest. When I was little I used to call it Sherwood and had all my Robin Hood adventures out there. Now I barely went out there, I didn’t have the time.

“Morning champ” said my father as he sat at the table reading his newspaper.

“Morning Dad.”

I sat down at my usual seat and helped myself to the bacon piled there. My mother liked to cook a lot and left it on the table for us to help ourselves. She said when she was a girl she used to have a housekeeper who did the same thing. My mother wasn’t a great cook but she was better than my dad. He usually burnt everything. I sat and ate. Breakfast is my favorite meal because it seems to have all the right foods. My mother makes a large spread too: bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes. What we don’t eat she usually either feeds the ducks and fish at the lake or she throws into the woods. We used to have a dog, Sparky, but he died a few years ago.

“Are you ready for the big trip, son?” asked my dad as he folded the paper and set it aside.

He picked up his cup of coffee and took a small sip.

“What big trip?” asked, chewing on a piece of bacon?

“Our vacation” said my mom as she ruffled my hair. “The one we take to Florida every year. You know, camping on the beach, sailing off into the ocean.”

Florida, why did that sound so familiar.

My mother opened her mouth to say something else but what came out of it wasn’t her voice, it was a cawing a seagull.

Holy crap, she’s a bird. I backed away in the chair, hit something behind me and stumbled backwards. I smacked my head and blacked out.

>---------------------------------------------------->

“My mother isn’t a bird!” I shouted as I snapped awake.

I wasn’t in my room this time. I was lying on my back, in the big yellow life raft. There were seagulls circling overhead, cawing or whatever it is they do. I sat up and rubbed my neck, it felt horrible. I felt horrible too. My body was stiff and cramped. Sleeping in a life raft was not a wise idea. Sleeping, I’d been sleeping. I moaned, realizing that that ideal little scene was actually the dream. No not a dream, a memory. It happened a few weeks ago, right after school let out. I remember now because after that my father asked me who I was going to take to the End of the Year Dance.

I tried to remember what happened. I was in the raft, drifting along in the waves. The sun went down and I could barely keep my eyes open. It was the raft that eventually put me to sleep. It was sloshing back in forth in the waves, slowly rocking me to sleep. Like a mother with her baby. It had been so gentle and serene. It helped me forget my troubles for a bit. But now they all came back to me. I broke down again, the tears streaming down my face. Those fucking bastards killed my parents, forced me to jump overboard and burned our boat.

My father loved that boat. He called it Danaá«’s Gentle Ride. The Perseus myth was one of his favorites and he always thought Perseus’ mother got screwed. That’s why he wanted to name his boat after her. Her father was a nasty son of a bitch who set her out to sea in a cask. My father thought it poetic that his boat be a gentle journey for the mother of one of the greatest heroes in Greek myth. My father was like that. He may not have looked like a road scholar but he sure acted like one. Or did act like one. God, he’s dead. They’re both dead. How can I live in a world without either one of them in it?

I wiped the tears from my eyes and looked around. I half expected to see ocean. But I’d been too preoccupied to realize that there was no ocean to see where I was. Oh God, I’m not even moving. The water had been so soothing all last night that I never even realized that the raft had stopped. I jumped to my feet and saw sand. Land, I was on land. I jumped out of my little salvation and planted my face into the soft, wet sand around me. Kevin Costner kissed the wet sand in Robin Hood and I did the same. I didn’t care that it was grimy or disgusting. It was the greatest thing in the world.

I looked up and saw I was on a little beach. But more than that I was on an island. It was a pretty good sized one too. I looked left and right, the sand looked like it went about a mile on each side. I looked in front of me and saw dense foliage. It was lush and green and beautiful. But where the hell was I? I remember looking at my father’s chart the other day, right before we set sail. My parents always liked to find little places to set down for picnics. There were a lot of little small islands out there in the world. But most of them were small and uninhabited. I don’t know how any one missed this little pearl. It was a lush paradise. But more importantly it was salvation. I thought I was going to be on the ocean for days.

Right first order of business.

I climbed out of the raft and dragged it further up the beach. I knew there was no way to deflate it without puncturing it but maybe there was a way to salvage it. I dragged it up to the tree line and did my best to secure it. There was a little rope dangling from the one side and I managed to tie that to one of the trees. If all else fails, I might have to sleep in that again tonight.

I took a deep breath and stared into the vast jungle like growth in front of me. It looked pretty dense and unwelcoming. Most of the trees towered way over my head and a lot of the undergrowth looked to thick to traverse through. But that gave me a lot of hope. The first thing I needed to do was find fresh water and if there was this much growth there had to be lots of water somewhere.

There was this TV show that I liked on the Discovery Channel that told people how to survive in every situation. It was called Buck McGrady’s Survival Guide. Each week, good old Buck---an Australian survivalist---would put himself in a dangerous situation and tell the viewers how to get out of it. I had a decent memory, ok it was a super memory and I remembered almost everything I saw or was taught. That’s what made me such a good student. At least that’s what my mother always used to tell me. I remember one episode where Buck showed people how to survive on a deserted island, a lot like this one.

Buck had these rules. He called them Buck’s Rules of Staying Alive. Each episode he adapted the rules for the situation he was in. Rule number one was the simple one: Do whatever it takes to survive. It didn’t matter who you were or what you were used, you had to throw that all out the window. He said it was all about your comfort zone and how that was gone. Everything that you were accustomed to would not be available on the island. But I knew that already. I was used to being outside my comfort zone. After all I was a guy with a girl’s body. How much more out of my comfort zone could I be.

Ok so it’d only been about two months. One morning back in March I woke up complaining about my chest feeling itchy. My mother took me to the doctor and he ran some tests. He did the works and that’s when we found out all about me. It was a little rough at first and I did a lot of crying. We informed the school about it a few days later and I was excused from Phys. Ed. I was still allowed to compete in team sports but I dropped out of both: diving and archery. My archery friends were still made at me for it---I was the best on the team---I only one who was still talking to me was Ray.

Buck’s second rule was finding clean, drinkable water. That one was a given. If there was no clean water, he even showed his audience how to get some. It wasn’t too complicated. Buck’s third rule was prepare to eat the wigglies. That’s what he called anything that might not necessarily be considered modern cuisine. At least not cuisine you’d find at Burger King. As long as it was cooked, it was good enough to eat. On the show he described lots of different fish and sea creatures that were edible. Buck’s fourth rule was about shelter. Shelter was important because it got you out of the elements and was essential to survival. Caves were good as long as there were no dangerous animals already living in them. I knew water and food were essential but to me shelter was the most important. I’ve done my fair share of camping, most of it was in my own wooded backyard but I knew the importance of a good shelter.

Buck’s fifth rule was fire. On the show he grunted about like a caveman, waving a burning stick above his head. But seriously, it was all about the fire. Whoever said it was essential to human life was damn right. To survive anywhere outside of civilization, fire is the key. It cooks your food, it provides comfort and warmth. It can also keep away most predators. Buck’s final rule was about being rescued. It was all about letting people know you were there. There were several ways to do it. The easiest being if you had a satellite phone.

Ok, Buck’s Rules, they were easy enough to follow. I knew them all by heart. But things would have been so much easier if I had gotten back on our boat. WE had everything to survive in a situation like this. My father had been a cautious man. He had the satellite phone and the emergency survival, he even had GPS. All of it was on the boat and all of it was probably in the bottom of the Atlantic by now. None of it could help me now.

So I need to be like Buck. That’s easier said than done.

I set off along the beach, thinking maybe there was an easier way into the “jungle” somewhere further from where I was ashore. It was a good plan and seemed reasonable enough. Walking the beach was kind of refreshing, at least at first. The salty sea air blew my hair and the seagulls were company. But it got kind of tedious after an hour. After two hours, I was dragging my feet, walking like the dead. I couldn’t believe how much beach there was and how long it was. Not only that but it seemed to be in some weird irregular pattern. There were these peninsulas. The first one I came across was small but as soon as I got to the tip of it, I could see at least two more, both of them enormous.

I spent the next two more hours walking to the second peninsula. But it’s there that I struck gold. Well not exactly gold but good enough. There was an area of the jungle that I was finally able to enter. It was matted down; a lot of the foliage looked broken. Something large and violent had come through there. It was the first real sign that there was something else on this island besides me and the damn seagulls. Yeah, they were friendly at first but now they were fucking annoying.

I moved quietly through the jungle, making sure I avoided stepping on anything that might snap or crackle. I was definitely not the kind of person that could fight off a panther or some kind of jungle ape with my bare hands. Not that I expected to find either but I was being cautious. Like father, like son I guess. After another hour, thirst got the better of me. I did fin one little spot of fresh water, about three hours ago but it wasn’t very big and I had nothing to carry it in. I literally only had the clothes off my back and they weren’t much. My t-shirt was ripped down the center, exposing the bikini top I was wearing and my board shorts were not meant for my new lower physique. They were a little big and kept sliding down.

There was something else I didn’t cut on too. There were mosquitoes in the jungle, big ones. They took every opportunity to try to take a bite out of me. There were more of them near the ocean but they started to appear inland as well. It was a good omen though, because if I remembered my Animal Planet correctly, mosquitoes bred in water. Which meant with every step I took, I was getting closer and closer to the Nectar of the Gods---ok, so I was being a little over dramatic but thirst and the possibility of dying does that to you.

Two hours later, the sun dipped below the clouds and I finally found water.

It was a God sent.

Smack dab in the middle of the peninsula was the quaintest little pond I’d ever seen. It was nowhere near as big as the lake in my backyard but it was heaven as far as I was concerned. I tasted it to make sure it was fresh and looked around for dead animals nearby to make sure it wouldn’t poison me. With those two things out of the way, I scooped my hands into the water and drank my full. It was a good thing too because I was so tired I nearly collapsed right there.

I managed to climb a nearby tree though, I knew better than to lay on the ground. After that it didn’t take me long to fall asleep. I dreamed again too, another memory.

Chapter Two:

The boy cleared his throat behind me and I sighed.

When I turned around I saw it was one of the guys from another class. In school we went to all the classes with our homeroom. We stayed in one room and the teachers came to us. Unless it was a lab day then we went to one of the lab classrooms. Even the art teacher came to us, pushing a huge cart loaded down with supplies.We lived in San Francisco but us locals liked to call it "Star City". I'm not sure why. Star City Central---really Jack Kirby Central--- worked things a little differently but I kind of liked it there. It was easy to remember my classmates because I saw them every day. But it was also a pain in the ass because the other students in the school didn’t know you.

The boy fidgeted, his palms were sweaty and he looked like he was about to puke. I groaned because I knew what was coming. It was starting to become a daily occurrence and it was really, really annoying.

“Hi” he said in a real low voice. “Ummm…I was wondering….if you had a date to the End of Year dance yet?”

Yep he was another one.

I’m not sure when the other guys started to notice but everyday it was getting worse and worse. I’m not sure what it was. It was like there was a giant neon sign blinking above my head or something, advertising my freakishness. But to the guys who didn’t know me it wasn’t freakiness at all. To them I was a cute, blonde haired goddess. It didn’t matter than we wore uniforms and that the girl’s had to wear plaid skirts and knee socks. To every single hormone driven jackass in this school I was girl. I’m not sure what it was: my breasts were bound, my face had no makeup and as far as I could tell my butt wasn’t that prominent.

I smiled at him. “What’s your name?”

God even my voice sounded like a girl’s.

He toed the ground. “I’m Mark, I’m from Class C.”

He was a goofy looking kid. He had red hair and a splattering of freckles all over his face. He was a whole head taller than me and looked to be well on his way through puberty. He was definitely in that awkward gangly stage. His neck was too long, his arms and legs were spindly and he looked like his clothes didn’t quite fit right. A part of me was kind of envious because at least he looked like a boy. Me, I felt like the biggest slab of meat in the super market.

I wanted to bust his balls. But that was embarrassing and not just for him either. I hated drawing attention to my deformity. So I smiled sweetly at him, which made him blush a little. I wanted to roll my eyes but I played it cool.

“I’m sorry Mark but my father doesn’t allow me to date boys.”

Mark looked as if someone punched him in the gut. He nodded and slowly slipped away. I felt real bad for him but there was nothing I could do. There was no way in hell I was going to slap on a dress and prance around as some arm candy just to make some half blind moron happy for the night. That’s what they were too, all of them. I couldn’t believe that they all thought I was a girl. Mark was number six this week; I was starting to run out of excuses.

“Ollie!” shouted a voice that came with the thundering foot fall behind me.

I turned around and saw my best friend in the whole wide world, Mia Dearden, come running up to me. We’ve been BFF’s since kindergarten. Mia’s father worked with mine, they co-owned a construction company. My father was the Contractor and her father did all the manual labor. Mia and I were inseparable, like brother and sister. We told one another everything and kept no secrets. When I was diagnosed with my intersexuality, Mia was the first one to know about it. Outside my family, she was the only one who knew about. She was cool with it, she never once judged nor did she want to slap me in a skirt like everyone else seemed to want too.

Mia was spunk personified and not because she had bright pink hair. She was like a firecracker. She was constantly in motion, always jumping from one topic to the next and rarely ever stopping. She talked a mile a minute which annoyed most people but it was one of the things I loved about her. When we were in third grade she started calling me “Ollie” because my last name was Oliver. I thought it was pretty cool. Right around that time I started calling her “Speedy” because she never knew when to stop.

I frowned at her as she came up to me, hugging me tightly.

“Number six?”

I nodded. “You think I should wear a sign, Speedy?”

She stepped back from me and gave me a once over. “As long as it’s green because anything else would definitely not work for your complexion, girlfriend.”

She liked to tease a lot.

“Don’t say that out loud, you’re going to get me more stalkers” I hissed and she giggled.

A group of guys walked by and stared at me. They were upper classmen and their eyes were penetrating.

One of them shouted: “Put on a skirt, sweetie, we want to see those legs.”

They laughed. I ignored them, Mia gave them the finger.

We hooked arms and I slammed my locker shut. I was happy that school was over for the day because I’m not sure how many more times I could live through being asked to the dance. We walked arm and arm down the hall; I was trying to be invisible. But that’s really hard to do when you’re with Mia. She stands out no matter where she goes.

Right before leaving, we passed by the girl of my dreams. I know what you’re thinking and you’re probably right: I had the perfect girl on my arm. Mia was fantastic too: she was fun, energetic and great to be around but dating her would have been like dating my sister. It was yuck city. Don’t worry; she thought the same way as well. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t try. It was only a onetime thing, a couple of years back. It happened at our first boy/girl party. It was long before any of my problems. It was that stupid game, 7 Minutes in Heaven. We were pushed into a closet together and we kissed it. It was a little peck and at the time, we might have felt something but we were only eleven. We laughed it off but I did ask her to the movies the next day. It never went any further after that because like I said, it was like dating my sister.

We decided if we dated then it might really ruin our friendship, so that was the end of it.

“Why don’t you ask her to the dance?”

“Who?” I asked as we passed the girls by.

She smacked my arm. ‘Sandra Hawke you big dummy.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smiled. “Of course you do, she’s the girl that’s like the Walking Wet Dream for you.’

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You really are more girl than boy.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. She laughed and slipped out of my arm and ran for the front entrance. I gave chase. She was fast on her feet too, all the more reason for her to be Speedy. I chased her down the sideway, weaving in-between other people trying to walk home. Mia was way ahead of me, laughing and taunting me. Every time I seemed to get the least bit closer, she moved further and further away. I tried to catch her but it was no use.

Mia disappeared down the street which suddenly morphed into the jungle.

>------------------------------------------------>

“Mia!” I shouted her name as I snapped my eyes open.

I was flailing so much I nearly fell out of the tree. I caught a branch though, holding myself steady. My heart started pounding a mile a minute and my body was covered in a sleek layer of sweat. I looked about, a little groggy, not sure where I was. Then everything came back to me: the drug dealers, my parents’ deaths, being shipwrecked on a deserted island. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, holding onto my perch with my legs. I climbed into this tree last night to keep myself safe. But my mind was still a bit fuzzy and I wondered what happened to Mia.

Then it dawned on me. She’s back in "Star City" you moron.

I moaned. It was another one of my dream flashback thingies. They were a strange thing again because they felt so real. It was like I was consciously activating in them too. I once read an article in Scientific America where they were talking about lucid dreaming, it had to do with being an active participant in your dream, knowing you were dreaming and being able to change things. It wasn’t as if I knew I was dreaming but I was thinking in it. It was still fresh in my head too. The memory was from the last week of school, a few days before me and my family left on our trip. It was actually the day of my last dream, the one with the family breakfast. I wonder why I kept thinking about that day.

I climbed down the tree and went over to my little oasis. I stripped out of my shirt and shorts and stepped into the water. I could feel the grim of the jungle all over my body and definitely needed a wash. When I stepped into the water, I was surprised how warm it actually was. I was also surprised how green it was. It was drastically different from the bright blue of the ocean. I’m not sure what made the ocean so bright and blue but I knew what made the water here green. I took a deep breath and slipped under the water. It was a good six or seven feet deep and I was able to reach the bottom with a shallow dive. I reached down and scooped one of the rocks of the ground. I pushed myself back up the surface, my hair sticking to my face. I brushed it away and looked at the rock in my hand. It was two or three inches in length and looked like a good skipping rock.

It was bright green too.

There were thousands of them in the little pond. I ducked back down and grabbed a handful of them. I’d never seen anything like them. I swam over to the shore and grabbed the shredded remains of my Rockets shirt---I wasn’t a big baseball fan but I bought it to make myself seem more boyish. I dropped my rocks into it and dipped back into the water to get more. I don’t know why I was so obsessed with them but maybe they’d come in handy.

While walking yesterday I had a long time think and decided that in order to survive this place, I needed to keep myself in peak physical condition. That meant I needed to hone my mind and my body. The only way to do that was to keep myself active. My father used to say, “The best way to keep active is to work with your hands”. So that’s what I was going to do: I was going to make a bow and arrows. Not only was it the best way to keep myself from going insane but it was also a fantastic way to hunt. I convinced myself that whatever trampled that underbrush yesterday was probably good sized and made of lots of meat. If I could find some way to kill something like that then maybe I wouldn’t have to dig for grubs.

I finished washing myself, doing my best to make sure everything was clean. When my hands brushed against my little breasts, a pleasurable shiver ran down my spine. I bit my lip but I wasn’t going to let it rule me. My mother mentioned that lots of young women found pleasure in certain ways. Dr. Papp gave me a pamphlet on young woman and their reproduction. Apparently the breasts were an erogenous zone. There were other zones on the female body too but luckily I didn’t have those. At least on the outside, I’m not really sure what I had on the inside.

After washing, I gathered as many stones as I could. They were small enough and narrow enough that they’d make the perfect arrowheads. Now all I needed to do was find something to use as a knife. I kicked myself for throwing that knife at that son of a bitch. If I had just held onto it I would have the perfect weapon. But I had to throw it and now it was at the bottom of the Atlantic with everything else.

I wrapped the stones in my shirt and tied it like a bundle. The shirt was shot, I’d probably never wear it again but it’d make the perfect makeshift bag. I hefted it in my hand and left it over by my tree. When I left the area, I started to count my footsteps. I’ve decided that the oasis was going to be my base of operations so I really needed to know how to get back to it. Counting my steps was going to help me achieve that goal. I started off my going left, I didn’t know navigational directions but I knew that going left always seemed to help.

It took me an hour walking inland but I finally found what I was looking for.

It was a large rocking mound in the middle of the jungle. I’m not sure where it came from but it was at least ten feet tall and though the jungle covered most of it, it was not all that hard to excess. I found a place where I could climb and did so without a problem. It didn’t peak above some of the taller trees but at the top of the mound I was able to get a good look at my new island home. I was shocked at what I saw. The island was huge, a lot bigger than I originally theorized. The jungle was vast and looked like it covered most of it. Not only that but this little mound was an anthill compared to the huge mountain that was off in the distance.

That’s my goal. I could see the whole of everything from up there. Not only that but it was the perfect place to put a signal fire. But that could wait; in fact exploring this place could wait. I needed something to cut my bow with. I climbed back down the mound and found what I was looking for: a sharp, six inch long piece of rock. It wasn’t the greatest thing in the world but it was good enough. I tested it by scrapping it against another rock and got a spark. More than one use. This is absolutely perfect.

After finding my “knife”, I backtracked toward my oasis. It didn’t take long to find. I counted my way back, taking note of where the rock mound was too. When I got back to the oasis, I started looking for the perfect tree.

I took up archery when I was six. My father thought because I loved Robin Hood so much that I might like to see what it was like to fire a bow like him. He took me to meet a friend of his, John “The Magician” Merlyn. I’m not sure how my father met him but Merlyn, as he asked me to call him, was a world famous archer. He was an Olympic gold medalist and boasted as being the best archer in the world. I was his student for almost four years. He taught me a lot, including how to be a bowyer and Fletcher. Merlyn said that an archer couldn’t be great until he made his own bow and arrows. I made my own bow when I was eight, out of yew. Merlyn had a crop of them growing in his backyard. It was a longbow that I painted green. It wasn’t the greatest thing but it made me feel like Robin Hood.

When I was ten, Merlyn told me there was nothing more he could teach me. He never said it but a lot of his peers thought I was a better shot than he. I think he was a bit jealous. After I left his tutelage I tried to track him down but he was gone. Apparently he went overseas to train. Who knows, maybe he really was jealous. I mean they called him The Magician because he could perform magic with that bow. He was a fantastic shot. I still search the Internet for him, from time to time. But it’s always a lost cause. He clearly doesn’t want to be found.

Unfortunately for me my jungle didn’t have exactly what I was looking for. There were no yew trees and there was no string so I’d have to improvise. I searched for about an hour until I found a tree that I think could work. The limbs were strong yet flexible and they were easy to cut with the stone knife. I found two real good ones. They were both about four and half feet tall, about a foot shorter than I am which makes them ideal for a longbow. A good bowyer takes several hours making a bow but a skilled one can do it in about an hour. I’m not skilled but I’m not bad either. The bow I made when I was eight was pretty good and I still had it, it hung on my wall at home. But I’d made others since then.

The one I made now wasn’t nearly as good because I lacked the proper materials but it was sturdy. I couldn’t find any rope, I could have used shoelaces I supposed but I wasn’t wearing any shoes. I took my sneakers off when I was on the boat, I didn’t usually wear them when we went sailing. So they were now permanent residents of the ocean like the rest of my stuff: my iPod, iPhone and PSP. Most of the rest of the stuff was probably at the house we were renting for the summer. Who knows how long that would stay there?

For the bowstring I found a good substitution. There was a tree nearby that had these long, thin vines. I was able to grab a few, work them so they were nice and taunt and fixed them to my bow. When I was done the bow was very primitive but it held when I flexed the string so I’m sure it would do perfectly.

Next came the arrows. I cut a bunch of smaller branches, making them about twenty four inches long then I went to work on the little rocks. Sharpening arrowheads is a long and tedious process. It took me several arrows to sharpen six of my little green rocks into perfect arrowheads. I tried to make them as close to broadheads as possible. But they looked a lot like the arrowheads that archeologists like to dig up all over the place. They weren’t the greatest but they would do for now. I tried them to my arrow shafts with the same vine I used for the string. Then I went about to feathers for the fletch.

Fletching is just as long and tedious as making arrowheads. It takes a lot of patience and a skilled, steady hand. The only feathers I could find were that of seagulls. So far they seemed to be the only animal on this island besides me and whatever liked to trample the underbrush. I’m sure there were other things too but I had yet to see anything. It was kind of strange but not unheard of.

Six hours after starting, I finished my bow and arrows.

I put them aside and started on my next course of action: looking for wood for a fire. I wanted to gather that before it got dark then I’d go off looking for food. I’m glad we weren’t vacationing in the Pacific because the wood on the ground would have damn and unusable. But because we were in the Atlantic where it was a little less humid, I was able to find some good branches. My father taught me how to build a fire when I was ten. He was an Eagle Scout and he wanted me to be prepared in case I ever got lost in the woods. I used to think he was kind of a dork with all his precautions and things but now I just wished he was here.

I missed him and my mother so much that it ached.

After building up my little fire spot---I didn’t start it yet---I went looking for food. I knew I probably wouldn’t find the thing that did the trampling but there had to something around here that I could eat. I set off going right this time, hoping I’d have better luck because I found nothing going left. I walked for about an hour before I heard some rustling in the bushes. I dropped down, shielding myself behind a tree and waited. It didn’t take long. A chicken came waddling out, pecking bugs from the undergrowth. It was a little bigger than a normal chicken and sort of a muddy brown color. It didn’t have one of those red thingies on its head either.

I took aim. I’m a right handed so I held the bow in my left and pulled the arrow back with my right. Merlyn was all about the kill shot. He used to set up this straw man dummy and marked off the ideal areas. He painted those areas red and told me which ones to hit. He’d shout out arm and then I’d have to hit the arm. Then he’d shout out leg and expect me to hit the leg. I was always good at those shots. It was when he shouted out heart and head that I hesitated. I used to ask him why he wanted me to learn how to kill the dummy.

“You have to learn about the kill shot, Jonas” he used to tell me. “It could save your life one day.”

Looking at the bird down the end of my arrow I sighed. I didn’t want to kill anything. But I couldn’t stop myself from this task. It was the only way to survive. I let the arrow fly and hit the bird in the chest, killing it instantly.I was good at small targets. Most people probably would have taken a few practice shots but I didn't need too. I gathered it up, pulled out my arrow making sure not to break it and carried the bird back to my camp by its feet. I used my stone knife to cut off its head and most of the feathers. Then I stuck a stick through its body and started my fire. It took me about ten minutes to get it going and I roasted the bird.

I ate all of it and doused the flames with dirt. I climbed back up into the tree because the sun was going down. In a place like this it was good to go to bed with the sun and wake with the sun. While I was laying there I couldn’t help but think what I did. Killing a bird was one thing but there was no way that I could a human.

-----

Author's Note: This post will only have one chapter but I'm hoping that its not going to be the norm. I'd like to thank everyone who's contributed and gave me information on archery. I'd also like to thank the good people at DC Comics, because Green Arrow is after all their character.

-----

Chapter Three:

When I opened my eyes this morning, I wasn’t confused about where I was.

I groaned and stretched, trying to work all the knots out of my stiff joints. Today I was going to have to find some real shelter. I wondered if I could make one. I’d seen Buck do it a hundred times on his show so I’m sure it wasn’t all that hard. He had a variety of different ways to do it, some were more complicated than others but they all looked like a kid could do it. But Buck had something I didn’t: a lot more than the clothes off his back. What did he say about surviving?

Buck’s voice entered my head as if he were standing next to me: “You need to comb the beach, mate. There’s bound to be a bunch of stuff washed up there.”

I smiled and climbed down the tree.

I gathered my things. Last night while I was trying to fall asleep I had a great brainstorm. I took my shirt and tore it into strips then wrapped those strips around my six arrows. It made the perfect makeshift quiver. I knew my shirt was now useless but it was pretty gone anyway. I tied the “quiver” around my wrist and carried my bow. I tossed the green stones back into the little pond, there was always more where those came from. I took a quick look at my oasis, hopefully I could find something to carry water in so I could explore further. It was getting tedious having to count every time I left. Maybe there were other water sources on the island, ones that weren’t so hard to find.

I left my oasis, counting as I did.

The air was cool today, until like the warmth from the last few days. I was kinda cursing the fact that that son of a bitch had ripped my shirt. I shivered as I walked, trying my best not to think about the cold. I still had my board shorts but they weren’t right for my body. I think I might have mentioned about wanting to appear as masculine as possible. The t-shirt was one part and the shorts were the other. They were the most masculine ones I could find. My mother wasn’t too happy about it but I she got me into the bikini so she was part happy. I’d wear a fricking tutu and join the cheerleading squad if it could bring her and dad back.

It took me over two hours to reach the beach. I backtracked to the trampled path from before. I found a quicker route to it, cutting a couple of hours from my journey. Once there, I took a moment to wiggle my toes in the sand. It was the whitest sand I’d ever seen and was not as hot as I thought it might be. It felt good going through my toes though. Mia would have hated it. She was part Irish on her mother’s side, so her skin was white as can be. When her hair wasn’t pink, it was actually a nice shade of red. She dyed it pink last year; she got tired of all the carrot top jokes.

She hated everything about the beach. Mia was short and on the chubby---at least she thought she was---I thought she was perfect and told her that numerous times. She hated anything to do with showing more skin than she had too. When they announced they were making us wear uniforms, Mia headed the protest to get them banned. A lot of girls got on her side because none of them wanted to wear those short skirts but they were overruled by the football, lacrosse and basketball teams. Men were pigs; I knew that first hand---half of them thought I was a kicking babe. I stopped associating myself with the pigs a long time ago. I was still a man but not one of those men.

I combed the beach just like Buck said. I started near the shore first, walking very slowly. I found a lot of sea shells, some plastic bags and shards of glass. It was like that for the first hour or so. But on the second hour I hit pay dirt. Near the tip of the peninsula, was a bunch of rocks. There was a lot of stuff that wasn’t up against them. I waded out to them; the water only went up to my chest. I found some good treasures: including an empty milk carton, which was all worth it as far as I was concerned. I grabbed as many things as I could and tossed them on the beach. I spent twenty minutes wading out to the rocks and back to the beach. I made the trip three times before I gathered everything there.

My biggest haul was also my most heartbreaking. I’m not sure where it came from or how it got there but I recognized the suitcase immediately: it was my mother’s. I broke down when I pushed it onto the beach. It was the last thing I retrieved because I was kind of avoiding it. I cried for a long time, unable to even look at it. It wasn’t anything fancy; she bought a set of three, all of them engraved with her initials J.O. It took me a long time to stop crying and even longer before I actually got up the nerve to open it.

When I popped the lid, I cried even longer. It mostly contained my mother’s clothes but on the top of them was a picture of us. It was from three years, taken on our trip to New York. Mom and Dad were on either side of me, their arms wrapping me tightly, the Statue of Liberty in the background. It was a good day, a bit cold but I didn’t care. I saw the smile on my face; I was so happy back then. There was no sign of genetic problems; I hadn’t even gone through my androgynous stage then. My hair was still short and my face still looked like a boy’s.

I held the picture in my trembling hands for the longest time.

I rummaged through the rest of the suitcase. It was mainly clothes, several shirts, some bras that were too big for my little bumps, a few pairs of her underwear. There were several pairs of shorts and some socks. There were no shoes though which was a real bummer because it turned out we were the same size--- I have small feet and I hate it. Underneath the clothes was a makeup bag but there was nothing in there that I wanted. I found a flashlight with a spare pack of batteries, at least four books, a can of bug spray, her iPod and her phone. That was the biggest find of them all. My mother actually had two phones, one she used strictly for work and other she used for personal use. She kept her personal one on her at all times. So this one was her work phone.

I pulled it out of case and flipped it open. It had a full charge but no signal. I spent the better part of ten minutes trying to find one. I ran up and down the beach, almost running myself to exhaustion but still I got nothing. I wanted to toss the damn thing into the ocean but instead I returned it to the suitcase. I shut the case, making sure everything was securely inside then went to look at the other junk I salvaged from the deep.

Most of it was that: junk. There was a couple pieces of drift wood, some plastic bags; there was a bunch of wire that might come in handy. I got some Styrofoam that used to be a McDonald’s cup I think and a piece of a surfboard. There were a couple of empty plastic bottles too---they’d be good for water. The most interesting piece was actually a length of metal, about ten inches long. I’m not sure where it was from but it was light enough to float and had a jagged end. I smiled when I saw it because my stone knife was now a thing of the past.

I reopened the suitcase and managed to cram everything inside. It was a tight squeeze but I managed. Then I took one last walk up and down the beach. I walked along it for about ten minutes and was about to give up when I noticed something buried in the sand. It was half submerged so I missed it the first time. I pulled it out in one big yank and laughed.

It was a sun bleached high heel. I laughed because boy did it bring back memories…

>--------------------------------------------------->

“You ask her out yet?” asked my buddy Roy as we walked down the hall together.

I looked to where he was gesturing his head and saw Sandra with a group of her friends. They were standing by her locker, laughing about something. Sandra was by far the most beautiful girl in school and the most popular. Her real name was Moondance; her parents were modern day hippies and named all their children drippy names like that. She had a sister named Rainbow, who graduated two years ago and I think her little sister was called Sunbeam. I would have killed my parents if they did that to me. Sandra and her siblings used their middle names in school.

Roy nudged me in the ribs as we passed by them but I made no effort to go over there. He sighed, grabbing me in a headlock and dragging me down the hall. I tried to push myself free but Ray was a much bigger guy than me. If it was possible to have two best friends, Roy Harper was the second. I’d know him since first grade. Whereas I was always the small, defenseless kid, Roy was always tall and everyone feared him. I was getting beat up by a bunch of bullies and Roy came to my defense. He was like that. His father was a park ranger who died in a forest fire saving a Native American man. Seeing as his day was the only family he had, the Native American guy took Roy in and raised him.

Roy’s adoptive father, Brave Bow, was awesome. We never knew if that was his real name or not but we called him Mr. BB. Like Merlyn, BB was an archer but unlike him he didn’t seek fame and fortune. Instead he shot for recreation. He taught Roy all about the boy. Roy’s fantastic, maybe not as good as me but he’s a very close second. When we were younger, Roy, Mia and I were like three triplets. We used to play Robin Hood together in the woods behind my house---I think I might have mentioned that before. Roy and I used to take turns playing the Emerald Archer but he refused to wear the tights. He also thought green was stupid.

“You lost your chance to” he said as he finally let go of my head.

“It wasn’t the right time.”

Roy sighed. Puberty was kind to Roy. He’d always been tall but now he had the muscles to go with it. He didn’t look anything like a girl either. He had short brown hair, a strong manly chin and he was starting to get hair on his face. We were good friends but I was jealous of his manliness. Besides being on the archery team, Roy was an all-around athlete. He played soccer, was on the track team and dabbled with golf---I didn’t let him get with that. Who the hell plays golf at our age?

Today was a soccer day. Roy like all the others players had to wear his uniform to school. The Rockets were the school’s mascot---I think I might have mentioned the t-shirt---. The school colors were red and gold. A lot of the girls swooned at the guys in uniform. I used to love wearing my archery outfit on match days but it was off season now, at least for me. I had to drop out of the team when my doctor excused me from PE. The principal said it would have been a bit suspicious if I was excused from gym but not other activities. The team wasn’t happy---I was the best after all---but there was nothing I could about it.

“Is there going to be a right time” asked Roy as we stopped at my locker.

I shrugged as I put in my combination.

“Well if not Sandra, you should definitely go after Mia.”

I opened my locker. There was a little mirror on the inside of my door. I looked into it, groaning. There were bags under my eyes and the beginning of a pimple on my chin. Mia was keeping me up at night on the Internet. She was a computer nut and IMed me well into the night. Every time I tried to get off, she found another reason to keep me on. The pimple was a problem too. Did girls talk to guys with pimples?

“Why are you obsessed with trying to set me up?”

Roy saw himself as a Matchmaker but only one who helped me. If it wasn’t Sandra than it was Mia. I’m not sure why but he was hell bent on matching me with someone. Every once in a while he switched tactics to a new girl, like that Japanese exchange student or that girl from the Choir team---the blonde with the voice, he called her. But I wasn’t interested. I mean I really liked Sandra but I’d never actually spoken to her before.

Roy sighed. ‘You’re like my kid brother; it pains me to see you like this.”

“We’re the same age, Roy.”

“Yeah but with you being smaller, it makes me feel older.”

I groaned. Everyone liked to poke at my size. My girly looks drove me nuts but my size was worse. I wanted to be a man, more than anything and size was part of it. I wasn’t short by any means but I definitely wasn’t six foot something like everyone else. They grew them big in Star City; I was probably the only freshman guy that was less than five foot ten. It was embarrassing. Even more embarrassing than the fact that the only ones in my class actually knew I was a guy.

I got my backpack and coat out of my locker. I didn’t need the coat but it had been raining when I left the house this morning. I walked with Roy all the way to the back of the school where he left to go off to practice. He turned around and shouted something about stop being a wuss. I gave him the finger and he laughed as he ran off to join his teammates. I was in a funk as I walked down the hall, staring at my shoes. I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going so I never saw the person in front of me. But I knew I walked into a girl because my head squished against her breasts.

I raised my head and opened my mouth to apologize but froze when I saw it was Sandra.

“Jonas?” she asked, I stuttered. “Are you ok? You look kind of down?”

I was dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say so I quickly blurted out: “I’m fine.”

She laughed because my voice squeaked. A normal guy could have chalked it up to puberty but I wasn’t normal. My voice wasn’t cracking; it was never going to crack. If anything I think it was getting softer. I was singing in the shower this morning and my Dad actually thought I had been my mom---how scary is that. I was so embarrassed about my girly voice, I wanted to find a hole and die. But even more embarrassing was the fact that even Sandra was taller than me. It was only by a few inches but still it made me feel like an ant.

We stood there in awkward silence, neither one of us sure of what to say. I’m not sure why but for some reason she hasn’t left yet.

“You gonna to watch Roy practice?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got to get home and pack. We’re going to Florida in a couple of days.”

“That’s cool.”

“Does your family do much vacationing?”

She shook her head. “Only to this Ashram up north. My parents drag us all of there and we spend our entire summer meditating.”

I nodded. I had no idea what an ashram was but it sounded kind of boring.

We slipped back into our silence again. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. I took a quick glance at my watch; it’s a nervous tick of mine. It was a good thing I looked though because earlier I promised to meet up with Mia and help her with some history homework---my photographic memory is really good with facts.

I sighed. “I’m sorry Sandra, I gotta go and meet Mia, we’re doing history homework together.”

She nodded and told me by.

I cursed myself as I walked away. I had had the perfect opportunity to ask her to the dance and I blew it. God I’m a fricking idiot. I wanted to scream but instead I started to make a hasty retreat.

Sandra called down the hall to me: “Jonas, are you taking anyone to the dance?”

I turned around and shook my head. “Are you asking me?”

She laughed and nodded. “I’ve only been waiting for you to ask me all week.”

We both laughed. I told her I’d pick her up at seven on Friday night, the dance was at eight. She walked toward me, pulled out a pen and scribbled her address on my hand. I hated that I was only fourteen and couldn’t drive. Underneath her address she wrote: I’m wearing a pink dress and shoes so maybe you should dress to match.

>--------------------------------------------------->

I held the pink high heel in my hand. I groaned and angrily threw it into the ocean.

I’m never going to see her again.

I left the beach, dragging my mother’s suitcase behind me. It didn’t weight that much but it was easier to drag through the sand then carry it. Once I got to my trampled path, I picked it by the handle and started lugging it in my left hand, the right I carried my bow. Once again I went back to my oasis via the shortcut and got there in about two hours. I dropped the suitcase at the base of my tree and the first thing I did was fill the large milk jug with water. It didn’t have a top but I didn’t care. I filled up the two plastic bottles next, only one of them had a top.

I closed up the suitcase but not before taking the metal shard with me. I took one of my mother’s shirts from the case, it was pink, something I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. But more importantly than that, it was bright. I tore it in strips. Then I tied one strip to the lowest branch I could find on my tree. I grabbed the capped bottle of water, the flashlight and my bow and started off in the direction of the rock mound I found yesterday. Today I was a little more prepared for a long journey though. Every sixth tree, I carved an “X” into the bark, marking my trail. It was something my father taught me, in case I ever got lost.

I made the hour walk without a problem. I climbed back up the mound and looked at the island again. My ultimate goal was the mountain but I knew I wasn’t going to get there today. Instead I needed to concentrate on a better place to sleep. As much as I liked the oasis spot, it was a little open and too near a water source to be considered secure. If there were predators on this island then it was stupid to be so close to water.

I scanned the jungle, trying to find a better place. I think I spotted it too. There was a copse of trees that was taller than the others. I counted about six treetops, towering up above the rest of the canopy. I smiled, they were perfect. I climbed back down the mound. It took me a few seconds to get oriented but as soon as I did I started off in the direction of my newest find. It was a grueling hike and the air didn’t help much. The cool air from the morning was gone to be replaced by something that only be described as sweltering.

It took me all day to reach the trees. I was so exhausted when I finally got there I almost collapsed. I fell against one of the thick, tall trunks and took a deep breath. We once went on a trip to Redwood National Park and the trees there were massive. These six weren’t as big but they were pretty close. They looked study too and had a strange green bark. I’d never seen anything like it. Maybe they’re from some alien planet. I laughed as I sat with my back to the tree, taking a swig of my water.

How far away was it from the mound? I’d actually lost count. I knew it was way over two hundred feet. Mind you my feet are small so it’s possibly it was much further away than that. I took several sips from my bottle but I need had plenty of water. I needed that water if I was going to hike it back to my oasis tonight.

I looked up at the sky. The sun was still out but it was lower. I wished I paid more attention to my father when he tried to explain the sun and its relative position in the sky during the times of day. He tried to lecture me on it once but it was boring. I knew it was directly overhead at noon but that’s all I could remember. It wasn’t overhead now so I’m guessing it was sometime afternoon. I cursed myself for now wearing my watch. I always took my watch off when I went to sleep. After being battered by all those storms I practically pulled it off from exhaustion. When I woke up the morning after the storm I forgot it. I got dressed in the closest clothes and stumbled onto the deck. That’s when the drug dealers showed up.

So my fancy, waterproof dive watch---a gift from my grandfather---was now at the bottom of the ocean somewhere. I guess it’s kind of fitting, considering its nature.

I took another sip of water and decided to get up. As soon as I did my legs seemed to give out on me. I groaned and slumped back to the ground. I guess I’m not as in shape as I thought. I’d been doing a lot of walking the last few days so I figured I was getting a lot of exercise but I think it’s only made it worse. I could barely keep my eyes open. All I could think about as my eyelids fluttered was the Dance and how I suck at it.

>-------------------------------------------------------->

“Ok” said Roy as he straightened his tie. “Why am I taking Mia again?”

We were exiting my mother’s car, walking up Mia’s driveway.

After he tried to unsuccessfully set me up with half the female population, I was surprised to find out he didn’t have a date of his own. I called him when soccer practice was over and told him how Sandra asked me. He laughed his ass off. He began to make a lot of jokes on my behalf but they were all in good fun. I let him laugh then I dropped the question on him: Who was he taking? He stopped laughing and went real silent for a long time. It took me a while to get him to talk again and when I did he confessed that the person he wanted to take was already going with someone. That’s when I suggested Mia. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea---the two of them didn’t get along---but I talked him into it.

Then I called her. Suffice to say she told me she’d rather swallow hot coals. But I was able to talk her into as well. I told her she owed me for the time she talked me into one of her skirts a few weeks ago---I don’t want to relive that story. After a bit of arguing and agreements---I had to wear another one of her skirts a whole day when I was with her---she agreed to the pairing. But that’s all she agreed too. She wouldn’t dance with him, sit with him or even talk with him.

“I’ll go to the stupid thing to be his arm candy and that’s it.”

Now Roy and I were on our way to pick up his date.

The Dance was a casual affair but a lot of people liked to dress up. The girls especially. After Mia got done complaining about spending the car ride next to Roy, she started busting my balls---well figuratively of course. She kept ribbing me about Sandra and asked me if I was going to wear a dress too. She had a lot of fun with it, telling me she’d do my hair and makeup. We had our laughs. I through a couple zingers her way too. The last time I’d seen Mia in a dress was when we were eight. It was at Easter and her mother forced her into the frilliest pink dress I’d ever seen. I still made fun of her about it.

We didn’t get a chance to knock on the door because it opened as soon as we stepped on the porch. But it wasn’t Mia that was standing there. It was some girl with long blonde, too much makeup and the tightest red top I’d ever seen. Her boobs were practically busting out of it. She looked at us, gave us the cutest smile and closed the door. Roy and I were both flabbergasted. What the hell was this girl doing here? If Mia had forced someone to take her place I was going to kill her.

“Hi y’all I’m Bonnie King” She had the thickest Southern accent I’d ever heard. In fact it was so thick it was fake. “Mia couldn’t make so she sent little ole me to take her place.”

She looped her arm through Roy’s, giggling as she did so.

It was the giggle that gave her away. This girl was trying too hard and I knew from that moment that it was Mia. I grabbed her arm and pulled her from Roy. Roy was standing there, still flabbergasted, apparently he was dense.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed in her ear.

“You think I’m actually gonna let those dicks at school see me with him, it’d ruin my rep” she whispered harshly to me.

I sighed. Typical Mia. “Where did you get the boobs from?”

She smiled slyly. “Push up bra and lots of padding.”

I sighed and shook my head. She took Roy’s arm again and the two of them walked ahead of me. Mia put a little wiggle in her step to sell the look. Besides the tight top she was wearing the shortest jean skirt I’d ever seen and these really cool cowboy boots---not that I’d ever where those. I groaned; she looked like a damn prostitute. Roy put his hand on her butt as we walked down the step and I heard her mumble something about breaking his hand. He removed it quickly. When we got to the car, my mother raised her eyebrows when she saw Mia/”Bonnie”, clearly my Mom could see through the disguise too.

The two of them got into the back while I got into the front. We drove in relative silence the three or four blocks to Sandra’s house. The whole time my mother kept glancing in the rearview mirror at Mia. I ended up having to whisper, “I’ll tell you later” which got a nod and a small laugh from her.

I was the only one who got out of the car to get Sandra. When I rang the doorbell I was so nervous. I actually now knew what that Mark kid felt like when he asked me to the dance a few days ago. My palms were sweating and my heart was pounding. When I rang the doorbell and she opened the door, I felt my heart leap into my chest. She was absolutely gorgeous. She was wearing a short pink dress and pink high heels. When I told my mother she was wearing pink, she made me get a pink tie to match. I wasn’t happy with it but I went along. I’m kind of glad I did because we really did match now. She smiled when she saw me.

She slipped her arm through mine like Mia did for Roy then the two of us walked to the car. I helped her into the car then sat in front with my mother. This time it was me who spent the whole car ride looking in the rearview mirror.

When we got to the school, mom told us she’d pick us up at 10. We got out of the car, I made sure to open Sandra’s door for her. I was the perfect gentleman, I think. Roy was an ass. He slid out of the car behind Sandra, leaving Mia to get out herself. She looked pissed. When Roy reached for her arm, she elbowed him in the gut and pushed past him toward the school. It was then that Roy realized who he was actually escorting. He looked as if someone had just waxed his private area.

When we got inside a lot of people kept whispering when Sandra and I walked pass. Unfortunately for me, there wasn’t much I could do to make myself look masculine. I was even wearing one of my father’s good shirts but still it was no use. Everyone assumed we were lesbians. I kept apologizing to Sandra but she didn’t mind. We found a table but Mia refused to let Roy sit with us. He got fed up and found some of his soccer buddies who’d gone to the dance stag. He sat with them. I didn’t care because it left me with two beautiful women all night.

Sandra and Mia roped me into dancing. I took turns with the both of them and we had a good time. I even managed a few slow song dances with Sandra, which was fantastic. My night would have been perfect if not for some jerk. Mia and Sandra left me alone so they could go to the bathroom and that’s when the vultures descended. There were three of them. They slipped into the empty chairs at my table and started causing me trouble.

They were upper classmen so they didn’t know me but they thought they did. They kept making lude remarks. One of them got real close, putting his hand on my knee. He wanted to know why I wasn’t wearing a skirt or dress like my friends. He also wanted to know why a pretty girl like me came to a dance all alone. He tried to kiss me, grabbing my arms and holding tight. I tried to push him off but he was too strong.

Sandra saved me. “Hey, that’s my date you jackass” she said as she stormed over to the table.

The guy let go of me and sneered. “No wonder she’s alone.”

He pushed me away like I was diseased. “Fucking Lesbos” said one of his friends and they disappeared.

I started crying and Sandra slipped into the chair the jerk vacated. She grabbed my head and let me sob on her chest. She told me she understood and that everything was going to be all right. Mia tried to explain but Sandra smiled. She said she knew what others thought about me and that she didn’t care. We sat out the rest of the dances until my mother came to pick us up. Roy got another ride home which made Mia happy. AS soon as she got into the car she pulled off her wig and sighed. I sat in the back seat between the two girls.

We dropped Sandra off first. I walked her to the door.

“I had a good time tonight” she said, smiling. “We should do it again, but just you and me.”

I smiled. Did she want to start dating? I smiled real big and opened my mouth to say yes when she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn’t on the cheek either; it was smack dab on the lips. I was in heaven; the world was exploding all around me. When I pulled back, something horrible happened. Her face morphed from beauty into a beast, it was a horrid thing that looked like a hairy pig but with huge elephant tusks.

I screamed.

>-------------------------------------------------->

When I opened my eyes I wanted to scream. Sandra’s beautiful face was gone to be replaced by a hideous boar. The boar’s head was right over me, sniffing about my chest, grunting like a pig---well I guess that’s a given. It was absolutely huge. It had to at least three feet tall and it looked to weigh at least two hundred pounds. I’d only seen them at the zoo or on Animal Planet. In fact I once watched something on them and I was certain they didn’t live in the Atlantic. At least not that I heard.

I slapped a hand on my mouth, remembering something else about boars. They scared real easy and defended themselves like vicious beasts. They’ve even been known to kill people from time to time. The guy in front of me was male, I knew this because I could see his tusks---females had theirs in their mouth.

I moved my head, looking around him slowly. He was alone which I guess was a good thing. I’m not sure if I could handle more than one. In fact I’m not even sure I could handle this guy. He could have killed me with one sweep of his head. Calm down and don’t panic. I tried to remember if Buck had anything about wild boars on his show but I actually drew a blank. I was too scared to think. I tried to see if there was another way out of this. I had my bow and the metal but both were useless. If I made any sudden moves I was definitely a goner.

The boar continued to sniff. It moved its head from my chest down my stomach to my crotch. It sniffed there for a few seconds then sniffed down my left leg. What the hell was it looking for? I think they were omnivores so maybe I smelled tasty. God wouldn’t that be ironic, a pig eating a human for a change. I wanted to laugh but was glad that I still had a hand over my mouth. I tensed my body and waited it out. The boar moved its head back into my face, its large snout brushing my cheek. It smelled absolutely horrible. Its hair was all bristles and they were rough on my skin. Some of them brushed my nose. I tried to fight back the urge to sneeze but I failed.

My sneeze was like a gun shot.

The boar freaked. It jumped back and ran around in a couple of circles. I took that time to jump to my feet. I knew running was pointless because it could easily chase me down and kill me. So I did the next best thing. I turned and squeezed myself into the collection of trees. The six trees were so big and so close together, in the center of them were like a cage. It was big enough for me to fit but very narrow so I had to stand. When I was fully in the trees, the boar charged. It lowered its head and came at the trees like a battering ram. When its thick head slammed into one of the trucks, the tree actually shook.
I had enough room to raise my bow and nock an arrow. I didn’t know if there was enough to fire but I tried. I aimed for between the eyes but its skull was too thick and my arrow bounced off. It only pissed off the boar even more. It slammed harder into the tree; I nearly broke my arm because I was too close. I took a small step back and fired again. But it was too far back and my arrow hit the dirt at the boar’s feet. God damn it. I nocked my third arrow and fired. That’s when I heard the snap of word. I cursed because I knew what it was.

I was afraid something like this would happen.

I rushed the bow. I didn’t use the proper technique to make it and now it wasn’t going to hold up. I had been in a rush because I needed to eat. I cursed myself again. I should have spent today making a better bow not blundering about like an idiot. You better have enough left in you to kill this thing. I took aim again with the third arrow and let it rip. I got lucky but it wasn’t a kill shot. The area hit the boar in the leg, barely sticking in. It squealed and stumbled but it didn’t go down. It got back up and charged again.

When I fired my fourth arrow, the head chipped and shattered.

Son of a bitch.

Once again I’d been too hasty. The arrows weren’t shaped enough. Merlyn hadn’t touch me that. It was BB. He said in order to be a proper archer I needed to k now how to make proper arrows. He showed me how to shape stones into arrowheads. He called it knapping. He said his grandfather taught him who was in turn taught by his grandfather. He drilled into Roy and me, until we both made perfect arrowheads. My green arrowheads were good but I cut corners, they weren’t as good as they should have been.

Two arrows left.

I nocked one and l let it fire, the boar turned his head and got it in the eye. I’ve never seen something in so much agony. It squealed and thrashed. It kept smashing its head against the tree, trying to dislodge the arrow. I think it banged itself silly because after a few minutes it dropped to its side, giving me the perfect shot. I put my last arrow into its chest, right between two ribs. There was another crack and the bow broke in my hands. I suspected it would and I’m glad it held up as long as it did.

I waited a while to climb out of the trees to make sure the boar was dead. It thrashed about for nearly an hour, whining and wreathing in pain. Finally it let out a rattling breath and died. Merlyn’s voice came into my head: That’s how you make the kill shot.

I walked over to it and cut its throat with my metal shard, ending whatever misery it may have had left. I wiped sweat from my brow and cried. I came to a decision as I sat at the boar’s side, crying for the animal. There was nothing satisfying about killing and I vowed never to do it again unless it was absolutely necessary.

-----

Author's Note: Here's Ch. Four and Five. Ch. 4 has a great big time jump but it was necessary to get the story moving...its also kind of great because I've set up the idea of flashbacks so there's always the possibility of going back to the island. I'd like to thank djkauf for the excellent editing.Green Arrow is copyrighted and trademarked by DC Comics.

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Chapter Four:

After killing the boar I kind of felt less like myself and more like someone else. I’m not sure who that someone was but it gave me a new purpose in life. I wonder if that’s what happened to young hunters from primitive tribes when they were tasked with something like that. Killing that boar changed something inside of me. It didn’t make me feel like a man but it made me rethink my life. It was kind of sad too. A few days later I went wandering and came across a group of boars, there had to be at least twenty or more. They were living in a clearing, there were several adults, but there were babies too. They looked so cute compared to their elders. It was then that I realized that I robbed someone of their Dad. It made me sad because in the end I was no different than the drug dealers.

I had an epiphany I think. My vow had meaning. I would never again kill needlessly, nor could I stand by and watch others do it too. Sure I had to kill to survive but I’d only kill what I needed and hopefully nature would take care of the rest.

I skinned the boar, made a fire, and ate well that night. I gathered water from the ocean and used one of my mother’s shirts to drain the salt from it. I salted the boar meat. I’m not sure where I learned it from but I knew that salting meat preserved it for a while. It lasted too. I’m not sure how long but I think I had it for weeks.

Weeks, I think it’s been weeks.

The days are molding into one another now. If I had been a normal guy like Tom Hanks I would have been thinner with a beard and longer hair. But I’m not a man and I’m not normal. I got two out of three though. I was thinner except the fat wasn’t gone, it was moving places. I may have mentioned how I had a girl’s butt, well the one before was miniscule compared to the one now. I’m not sure but I think my butt’s at least twice the size. In fact it was so big now that my bikini bottoms no longer fit. I had to put on a pair of my mother’s underwear and shorts. My chest was bigger too. It wasn’t ginormous like Mia’s fake chest at the dance but it was bigger. My bikini top was starting to strain a bit and the strap was cutting into my flesh. Unfortunately there were no bras in my mother’s case.

I didn’t realize that it was my female hormones changing my body so I started exercising. I developed a routine. I started doing pushups in the morning, running in the afternoon and sit-ups in the evening. I alternated it every few days only it didn’t matter which I did or in what order. It was hard at first but then it became easy. I’m not sure when I started to notice the muscles but I did notice they were different than Roy’s. He was all bulging while I was lean and slim. I had the washboard abs but my pecs weren’t huge and my arms did look like tumors---not that Roy’s did. I was upset at first, not looking like the Terminator. But the more I worked out the more I realized that in a place like this it was bad to be huge.

A lot of my muscle came from island exploring.

I abandoned the oasis and the tree copse and moved north. After a few weeks of living here and there, drinking sparsely and eating salted boar meat, I finally found what I was looking for. The island had a little stream. I followed it for a few days until it led me to another little oasis. It was a lake, a massive one. Not as big as the one in my backyard but it was still impressive. Better yet, it was right at the base of the mountain. There was this freshwater waterfall running into it and the water was so crystal clear I could see my reflection in it.

My reflection startled me at first. When I first got to the lake it had been a couple weeks since I’d seen myself and when I saw the blonde haired girl staring back at me I was a bit floored. It was still me but there were subtle changes…I think. The girl in the water had a softer face, high cheekbones and I think her nose was a bit smaller than mine. Her hair was definitely longer. It was past my shoulders now and in my eyes. My mother always wanted me to grow it out but I always managed to keep it slightly androgynous. I liked long hair, but long as in guy standards---which to me meant down to my shoulders. The hair on me now was still about that long but it looked softer, shiny but dirty too.

Besides the changes, I kept myself busy.

I built a shelter, which took about a week---I think.

After my first initial sojourn, I went back to the beach but from a different peninsula. This beach was a gold mine. I found a lot of empty bottles, lots of plastic and driftwood and lots of useless consumer junk. It was funny but I never realized how much crap I had until I could no longer use it. A lot of the stuff I found on the beach was useless but there were some good things. On one trip I found my best tool yet: it was a machete but without the handle. It had a real dull blade but I sharpened it quickly enough. I also found a green tarp; it was at least five by five, about my height and in pretty good condition. I did some editing to it and made myself a cape/rain poncho. It was pretty wicked and it also helped me when the cold winds came blowing through.

I found a lot of other useful things on the beach. I found this old fish net and when I looked at it I had this image of an arrow, capable of spreading a net on a target. It was so cool but the more I thought about it, the more I realized it would never work. I kept the idea in the back of my head though. I wondered if it was possible to modify arrows to do different things. I know Robin Hood never did but he didn’t live in the modern age like us. Another image popped into my head: one of a man dressed in green, running around the city, fighting crime and helping people. It was an interesting concept, but it was crazy too.

I did use the net. Even though it was a little battered, I was able to fix it and use it for fishing. After getting my machete, I converted the metal shard into a spear. I attached it to a long branch and used it to spear fish. I was a little rusty and it took lots of practice but I pulled it off eventually. Now I’m a pretty decent spear fisher.

A few days after my first bow broke, I resolved to make another. This time I took my time and did it right. It turns out that there were a lot of trees on the island that were perfect for bow making. I found one that was like yew but was more sturdy and flexible. I took my time crafting the bow. I made sure I kept the wood moist and with the machete, I was able to carve it to give it a more bow-like shape. It took me several days to get it right, instead of the several hours like before. I perfected the string too. I actually found a tree that I was able to scrape some fibers from. I learned this from BB too. It took me forever but I was able to twist and braid the fibers into a practical and much stronger string that I ever could with a vine.

The arrows became a task. I realized how weak the stone arrowheads were. I still liked the idea of the green stone but I needed to perfect that too. I found my answer in scrap metal. A lot of it was washed up here and there. I gathered as much as I could. Then I carved an arrowhead mold into a thick piece of wood. I burned the wood, melted the metal until I filled the mold with it. I crushed some of the green stone with a large rock, sprinkling it into the metal. The arrowheads weren’t green anymore but they were a lot stronger than before. I made a lot more too: about twenty. I used the same process to make the arrows but switched from seagull feathers to a more colorful variety.

I found a bird on the island that had bright colorful feathers. I used those to make the fletch on my arrows. I tried to use mainly green ones, but they were in low supply.

With a proper bow and arrow, I became a better hunter. I tried to avoid killing the boars whenever possible, but I killed a few every now and then. I mainly stuck to killing chickens and other small game. I found that my new home was teeming with life. Not just birds either. Most of the animals hid further inland. There was a dozen different little rodents, none bigger than raccoons, but they easy to kill and had a fair amount of meat. My diet wasn’t just fish and meat though. There was a lot of fruit I was able to pick from trees. Most of it was of the tropical variety which I never really cared for before but I abided by Buck’s first rule.

After arriving at my permanent home, I went about building a shelter. I didn’t do anything real elaborate. I built a small hut out of thick branches. I tied them together using real thick vines and I made a roof by thatching huge fern leaves together. It wasn’t the greatest place but it was enough for my needs. I retired the net form fishing and turned it into a hammock. My mother’s suitcase had a place of honor as did the picture of us. I often went to sleep every night staring at it, dreaming about that day. It killed me that I’d never have another day like it. I would often think about the guys who killed my parents and my anger would get the better of me. I carved a rough likeness of the bastard who killed my mother, into a tree, and used it for target practice. Though I still refused to take the kill shot I did put every single arrow into his ugly forehead. In real life there was no way I could kill him but it helped me work out my frustrations.

It bothered me that men like them were allowed to walk around. The world was filled with dangerous people and nobody cared. In Star City alone, the crime rate was astronomical. There were drug dealers and rapists and petty criminals running all over the city. The police were overwhelmed. There was too much crime and they were spread too thin. Someone needed to help them, someone needed to stand up to all those bastards and put them in their place.

But my current task was to climb the mountain.

I’d been debating it for weeks---at least I think it’s been weeks. I’ve been trying to find the perfect way to do it. For a few days I tried to figure how to climb. I had no rope and nothing to climb the rock face with but my hands. Looking up it was a sheer rock face, I could see places to grab a hold, but I wasn’t really confident in my abilities to climb it.

I’ve only gone climbing once; it was one of those fake rock walls….

>-------------------------------------------------->

“Why are we doing this again?” I asked as we pedaled our bikes down the street.

Roy sighed. He told me why, but I still didn’t believe him. Apparently it was to help us unwind after a grueling school year. School was over with, it ended yesterday. Now the two of us had the whole summer to slum around. My family and I weren’t leaving for Florida until sometime at the end of July. It was supposed to be sooner but a project of my father’s went a little behind schedule. Roy claimed he was going to be bored all summer, what with me in Florida and most of his teammates off at baseball camp or something. I personally think he was out to get revenge on me for the dance.

The day after the dance he called me, pissed that Mia had screwed with him. He seemed to think I had something to do with it and we were playing some messed up game. I talked him down and told him it was all her. I reminded him who Mia was and how she danced to the beat of her own drummer. That seemed to calm him down but he was still a bit mad. I couldn’t blame him; I would have been pissed at her too. I was kind of miffed at her but I was miffed at him too. After he found out who she was, he completely ignored her. I know they hated each other, but he could have at least been polite to her. I realize she wasn’t the one he wanted to take but at least he could have tried to be civil.

I asked him the same question again but he didn’t listen or refused to answer. Roy liked to do crazy and sporting things, usually dragging me off on them. Today it was rock climbing, last month he tried to talk me into bungee jumping. Luckily we were too young for that one. I’m not sure what his beef was but as long as I’d known him Roy was a bit of a thrill seeker. I think it might have been because of his dad. Roy’s lifetime dream was to grow up and be a firefighter. He said it was because his dad died in a fire trying to save people. I’d always wanted to do something in law enforcement. I wanted to help people too but I didn’t need to put myself anywhere near fire to do it.

The rock climbing wall was actually inside the Wildcat Gym. It was this ultra extreme sporting center. It was a combination gym, boxing arena, and karate dojo. It was run by this big old guy named Ted, but everyone called him The Wild Cat. He was apparently some big war hero. He had the medals to prove it; there was a bunch of them framed on his office wall. Ted was a mixed martial arts expert, who’d had more concussions and broken bones than anyone---or so they say. A lot of the Gym regulars say he has “Nine Lives” because of all the scraps he gets himself out of. Ted was a decent enough guy, he was a bit cranky but it was just a façade.

The rock wall was a new thing. He’d only installed it a few weeks ago and it was the newest craze with us young people.

Roy and I chained our bikes out front. When we entered there was already a bevy of beefy guys working out. Several of them were surrounding the boxing ring in the center as two guys were going at it. There was more in the dojo while one of Ted’s junior instructors led a class. The big man himself, Ted, was in the corner, chewing over the lone girl in the room. I recognized her from school, it was that Japanese girl, I think her name was Shado or something. She was off in the corner by herself, limbering up with some exercises. She was bending her body in ways that were humanly impossible. A lot of the guys were drooling over her but pretending not to watch.

As we walked past Ted, he was grumbling about a girl being in his place. Ted was a notorious chauvinist, who took offense to girls of all shapes and sizes.

He was busy grumbling about Shado until I walked under his nose. One of his large hands clamped on my frail shoulders. I jumped about ten feet, Ted glared at me.

“One girl in here is enough, missy” he roared.

Roy came to my defense. “This is Jonas, Ted” he said quickly, stepping in front of me. “He’s a guy, he’s just a little…ummm…girly.”
Ted squinted his eyes at me. “You need muscles on that body of yours, boy. You should come by when the place isn’t so packed, I’ll whip you into shape.”

He let out a hearty laugh and slapped me in the back.

Roy laughed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, leading me away.

Everyone knew better than to cross Ted. Rumor had it that after the army, he became a big fighter. There was a match he was supposed to throw but he didn’t. He apparently screwed a bunch of people over, really bad ones and they tried to make Ted’s life a living hell. But he fought back. Everyone said that’s why he had Nine Lives because the guys he screwed nearly beat him to death. But somehow Ted bounced back from it.

I looked at the man, all dressed in black, and grimaced. He didn’t look like a man that had had his ass kicked more than once. He looked like a guy who ate bricks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ted was definitely the enforcer, how anyone beat him up was a mystery.

Roy went through the basics of rock climbing. Apparently this was his third or fourth time there. I let him set up my harness and make sure my ropes were all right. I stepped into the harness and one of the attendants held my rope. I started up slow, taking my time. Roy was already ahead of me, climbing like a pro. It bothered me a little bit to see how athletic he was. Roy was always a super jock, even when we were kids. It used to drive Mia nuts because she was sure he was cheating. But Roy just had natural talent, everything he did he seemed to do right. I wasn’t really good at anything, except diving and archery of course. The only thing I ever beat him at was archery. But Roy wasn’t one of those guys that got angry; he just smiled and said “I better do better next time.”
“Are you going to ask her out?” he called down.

“Maybe, tomorrow” I said.

We continued to climb for a while until I remembered something. “What about your girl? Are you going to ask her out? I mean you missed your opportunity for the dance but I’m sure she’d go to the movies with you.”

“I’m not sure she’d go out with me” he said sadly.

I shook my head. That was Roy’s problem, his only problem; he didn’t think he was good enough at anything. That included asking girls out. It was strange because two years ago, we didn’t even like girls. Now they were the only thing Roy talked about. His hormones were definitely raging. I’m not sure what was wrong with mine. I mean, I liked Sandra, she was nice and sweet, and she smelled real nice. But I didn’t like her the way Roy talked about other girls. I didn’t notice her butt, except to silently compare it to mine. Her breasts were bigger than mine but I shouldn’t have noticed that. She had a cute laugh. She also did this thing where she wrinkled her nose when she was thinking. I really liked that, I wish I could do that.

I sighed at Roy’s answer. “You have to stop putting yourself down. If you really like this girl you should go for it.”

He smiled at that and continued climbing.

It didn’t take him long to reach the top but it took me at least thirty minutes. I was kind of embarrassed because it was such a little wall. After we climbed down, Ted talked the two of us over to the exercising machines. He went kind of easy on Roy but he was really grilling me. First it was the bench press, then it was free weights then back to the bench press. We were at the Gym for about two hours and on the way back home I could barely ride my bike.
Roy and I parted, it was the last time I saw him. When I got home, my Mom was smiling and told me good news. Apparently my mother fixed the problem and we were leaving tomorrow.

>-------------------------------------------------->

I wonder if Super Roy would have problems with this rock wall.

It had to be at least a hundred and fifty feet straight up. From the ground it looked pretty sheer but it was actually pretty rocky. There were a lot of handholds and foot holes. I wouldn’t say it was an easy climb but it was a lot better than I thought it was going to be. It was a lot like the rock wall in fact except I don’t have a life line and I didn’t have boobs then---well I did, but they weren’t as big and they were compressed against my chest. Now I was having a hard time because they kept getting in the way. I tried to imagine what girls did with these damn things. Mia played intramural field hockey and her boobs were a little bigger than mine, I tried to imagine what she did with them. I cursed myself for not asking.

Besides the boobs, the climb wasn’t so bad as long as I concentrated. There was this guy in India who could climb up walls like a monkey. I saw it on some show on the History channel. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. He scaled right up the wall, he practically ran up it. When the host of the show looked at his hands, they were like sandpaper. It was so damn freaky. So I figure if he can do it then there’s some hope for me yet. Of course, he’d been doing it for about ten years but I wasn’t going to let that stop me.

I climbed for about two hours. It was the most grueling and gut wrenching thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. When I finally reached the top, I collapsed to my knees, gasping. I took a giant swig from my water bottle and poured some of it on my head. My wet hair clung to my back and face until I whipped it around, splashing water about. I stumbled to my feet. I was still panting heavily so I took another swig of water. Then I stood up straight, took a few deep breaths and finally looked at my surroundings.

It wasn’t the mountain top that interested me---that was barren rock. What interested me was the view. I could see the whole island and beyond. I could see the whole jungle, including my little oasis---the second one with the waterfalls, the first was way too small. The island was a lot bigger than I thought it was. It was also the strangest shape I’d seen. I knew there were at least three peninsulas but what I saw absolutely floored me: there were at least five. It was kind of crazy and looked like a giant starfish. What wasn’t crazy was the fact that there was nothing else around. The whole of the ocean around the island was nothing but water.

So much for thinking, there were other islands around.

I thought maybe I could use the raft and paddle my way to another island but there was nothing. It made me think though. If there were no other islands around here, did any boats pass this way? Surely this place had to be on some map. It was too big an island to not go undiscovered. I don’t care if I was smack dab in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, there had to be some place somewhere that this thing appeared. I tried to remember if I saw anything like it on my father’s map. I had been looking at it the day before the storm. My parents liked to find little secluded places to set down and have picnics. This would have been the perfect little place for them.

I spent a lot time of the mountaintop, getting the lay of the land. The mountain had island on three sides and faced north into the ocean. It was a sheer drop to the water below. If the fall didn’t kill you, the jagged rocks would. The beach wrapped around the majority of the island. The rest was a rocky shoreline. The jungle was pretty much everything. I’d never seen anything like it. It made the one in my backyard look miniscule. I could see the little copse and the place where I buried the dead boar---yes, buried it. I skinned it, took whatever meat I could and then buried its bones. I even said a little prayer for it.
I stayed on the mountain for about an hour, walking the whole of it. I was trying to see if there was anything I missed. I was just about to leave when I saw it. At first, I didn’t think it was anything because it was so small. But after staring for about ten minutes, I realized it was actually a white speck and that white speck was slowly moving.

Oh my God, it was a ship.

Chapter Five:

I’m not sure how fast I climbed down the mountain but it was a lot faster than I went up it. I hit the ground running, exhaustion my constant friend but I pushed it back into my mind. Nothing was going to stop me from achieving my goal. I ran into my little shelter and grabbed everything I could carry. Most of the stuff was now set out and made things look homely. My mother’s clothes were hanging on the walls, her books---which I’d read from cover to cover---were stacked in a pile. Her flashlight was always with me even though the last battery went out about a week ago. I had her phone with me too but there was no charge left in it. They were just trinkets now but they were my mother’s trinkets.

I threw everything into the suitcase, well everything I could grab in a hurry.

The only things I didn’t were my things. I grabbed my boar hide quiver---that took me forever to make---and I got my bow. I wore the machete on a belt I made from tree fibers and I always carried my spear in case an aggressive male boar caught me off guard. I pulled on my tarp cape and took a deep breath. I took one final look at my little home. I felt a weak pit in my heart. Even though it wasn’t really home, it had been my security for God knows how long.
I couldn’t help but think about leaving my real home for vacation. Back then, I didn’t realize it was going to be the last time I’d see it…

>-------------------------------------------------->

‘C’mon Jo Jo.”

My mother was a in a hurry. My father had left the night before to make sure everything was ok with the rental property. We owned a house on Miami Beach, it was a little costly but my parents hired someone to care for it when we weren’t there. When my parents got married my father’s business was a tiny little thing, barely a blip on people’s radars. About a year later though, he and Mia’s dad hit it big. Even though they didn’t have my grandfather’s money, they did very well for themselves. We and the Deardens co-owned the beach property but they didn’t do much traveling. Mia’s dad was a workaholic.

I was taking my time; I always took my time. I grabbed the essentials: iPod, iPhone, PSP, Wrigley’s Spearmint gum. I love that gum, don’t ask me why. I like to leave everything to the last minute. My mother calls me the Great Procrastinator. My father is the same way but he calls it “being thorough”. I like to think of it as “being prepared”.

I made sure I had everything, which constituted two bags of stuff. One bag was filled with all my things, including clothes and toiletries. The other bag I called the “pink bag”. Two days before the trip my mother announced that she wanted me to see what it was like to explore my feminine side. I protested but lost. Apparently, Drs. P and W were in agreement with her. Even though I made it very clear that I was a guy and wanted to remain as one, they asked me how did I really know unless I tried. Dr. P tried to use medical mumbo jumbo to explain things and Dr. W came forward with psychiatric reasons. In the end, they told me it was my decision.

So I finally relented and my mother dragged me to the mall three towns over.

I was extremely embarrassed as she dragged me from one girly store to another. First it was underwear which wasn’t as bad as I thought---I’m not saying I liked it I’m just saying it was more comfortable than my boxers. After that, we hit several clothing stores. I protested when she took me to get my ears pierced but she fired back that a lot of guys my age had pierced ears. I lost that fight too. I didn’t win any fight; she had an answer for everything---that’s how I was saddled with that bikini. The only thing I got her on was the salon. She wanted to give me the full works but I was able to talk her down. The girls trimmed my hair into a more feminine style and did my nails. They gave me a little makeup and tweezed my brows---apparently a girl was supposed to have dainty arches. The last place we went to was a store where they sold things to help enhance or hide my figure. It was where we bought the compression vest a couple of weeks ago. We got something called a gaff, it was supposed to hide my you-know-what so I’d look normal. My mother made me wear it home.
My mother knocked on my door as I stood staring at myself in the mirror. It was horrible. With my hair and my eyebrows, I looked just like a damn girl. I couldn’t help but think of all the ribbing I’d get from Mia. Without the vest, she made me wear one of my new bras. The A cup made my little bumps protrude, pushing my t-shirt up into little anthills. The gaff thingy flattened everything below. The jean shorts she had me wearing were also brand new and very much in style. They were also way too form fitting. If anyone saw me in them, they’d be able to tell I didn’t have a guy’s figure. It was so damn embarrassing.

My mother gushed when she pushed open my door. “Oh Livvie, you look adorable”. She hugged me from behind, crying a little.

I smiled weakly.

We decided that while in “girl mode” that calling me Jonas was a bad idea. So she came up with Olivia, apparently it was the name of her mother. She died before I was born, lung cancer I think. My mother didn’t like to talk about it; she said it was too painful. My mother always told me it was scary how much I looked like her when she was younger. I’d actually seen pictures; it was kind of scary. But my grandmother was a real woman; I’m not sure what I was.

“Do I have to wear a pink shirt and short shorts?”

She laughed. “Isn’t that what girls your age wear?”

I groaned. I hated it when she answered a question with a question. I also hated when she was right. Girls my age did dress this way but not as girly. My mother went a little overboard on that. Everything we bought was pink or purple and they were the girliest things she could find. She told me she’d never have a daughter again and wanted to make sure the world knew I was a girl. I told her that that wasn’t going to be a problem.

“Why do I have to wear new shoes?”

I wiggled my toes and looked down at my feet. On them was a pair of girl’s Nikes with a pink swish. We got them at Lady Footlocker. My mother wanted to make sure I was girl from head to toe. Even my socks---which were ankle ones---were girly and cute. I talked her out of pink ones but the ones on my feet were just as embarrassing.

She didn’t answer me. Instead, she gave me another hug. I loved my mother to death but sometimes she went a little overboard.
A beep shattered our embrace, our dare I say it, mother/daughter moment.

“That’s the taxi, sweetie.”

We left my room in a rush; my Mom added my two bags to the pile on the front porch. The taxi driver got out of the car and smiled at us. He made some remark, complimenting the both of us. It made me blush---what can I say it, was kind of sweet. He wouldn’t let me touch the bags. He told me a pretty young thing shouldn’t do any of the lifting. I blushed again but I was also kind of annoyed. I hated it when men thought girls were dainty and not able to do stuff that they could do. The taxi driver was just like that jerk Ted. This guy might have flattered me but he was still a pig. If Mia had been here and heard him, she would have kicked him in the balls.

I wanted to punch him in the gut but my mother gave me a stern look. So instead, I let the “Man” load our bags and got into the back seat with my mother.
We left the driveway a few minutes later. I slouched down as far as I could go, not wanting anyone to see me. But our house was the only one around; the others were down the road a bit. I got one last glance at the house as we pulled out of the driveway. As we drove away, I couldn’t help but think that things were going to be different when we got back in three weeks. I’m not sure if that was extremely scary or really exciting.

>-------------------------------------------------->

I ran as fast as I could, thinking about my last day in Star City brought tears to my eyes.

I was making good time but I’m not sure if it was fast enough. It took nearly an hour to climb down the mountain. I spent at least ten minutes in my little camp and no matter how fast I ran it was still going to take an hour to reach the beach. The boat has to be there still. It was so far off so it was going to be there. I kept trying to reassure myself. I needed it to be there. This was my only chance to get out of here and I wasn’t going to let it pass me by.
When I reached the beach, I ran to light my fire. I set up this one and several just like it all over the island. I put them in places where I knew they’d be seen. My goal was to put one on the mountain as well. But I hoped that would no longer be the case. My signals were large piles of wood, stuff with whatever I could find that would burn long and fast. Mostly it was leaves but there was some plastic and paper shoved in. This particular one had all of that and some. A few weeks back I found a single flip-flop and remembered something Buck said about making the fire as noticeable as possible. The flip-flop was ideal.

Last summer Mia and I were on the beach, for the Fourth. Our parents were preparing to set off their fireworks. We had those dinky little sparklers and were waving them at one another. We started to pretend they were light sabers and were clashing them together. That’s when we had an accident. Mia’s broke and the top fell on her foot. Luckily, it didn’t burn her too badly but it scorched the hell out of her flip-flop. The flip-flop was completely burnt; the smoke that came from it was horrible and black. But it was extremely noticeable. It caused quite a commotion. One of the beach cops tried to shut down our fun but my Dad was able to convince him that no one got hurt.

So when I found that flip-flop I knew exactly what to use it for.

I reached into my belt and pulled out the two stones I used to light my fires. I rubbed them together and got a spark. I lit my Signal and waited. I couldn’t see the boat from the beach but I knew it still had to be out there. For a while, I started waving my arms in the air and shouting. But I got tired and I was starting to lose my voice. I sat down, sighing. Twenty minutes later, however, I saw the boat. At first, I didn’t think it noticed my fire but then I saw it turning toward me. I jumped to my feet and starting waving my arms some more.

As the boat got closer, I realized it was a cruise ship. All I could do was smile and thank the Maker. It was one of those huge liners, a giant Caribbean one. I saw them on all the commercials, advertising a tour of paradise. It was gleaming white and looking for all the world like it owned the ocean. My parents took a cruise on one of those a couple years back but they wouldn’t let me come. It was some kind of second honeymoon. They were gone for about two weeks; I had to stay with Mia. She and I had fun but I was a little jealous of the rents when they got back and told me about all the fun they had. They promised to take me on a cruise some day but…

The boat finally stopped coming. At first, I thought they were forgetting me then I saw them come at me with a smaller boat, it was white too and there were several people in white uniforms inside. It was some kind of launch. It bobbed up and down on the waves as it cruised toward my island. I quickly decided that I looked like a barbarian so I did some quick changes. I pulled off my hooded tarp and quiver. I stowed both of them in my suitcase. I did the same with the machete but there was nothing I could do to hide the bow. But I took off the string and set it up like a hiking stick, leaning a bit on it.

When the Launch came ashore, two of three people onboard scrambled onto the beach. They were both wearing white uniforms. One was clearly a Jamaican; his long dreadlocks were pulled behind his head in a ponytail. The other was a pretty blonde woman who was carrying a white bag. They both approached me at a rush.

“Holy moly, there really was a person on the island?” said the man, glancing back at the driver of the launch. Then he looked at me. “Are you an island princess?”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Are you all right, sweet heart?”

All I could do was cry. I dropped my suitcase and ran into her arms. She stumbled a bit and then wrapped her arms around me. I cried into her chest. It’d been so long that I’d seen or talked to anyone I wasn’t sure if they were real or not. She let me cry. I’m not sure how long I did it but after I was done, she had me sit while she ran some tests to make sure I was all right.

“I’m Dr. Carlson; I’m the Ship’s Medic, its company policy that I check you out before I let you onboard?”

I nodded. I wouldn’t have let me onboard either.

The Jamaican guy pulled a walkie-talkie from his belt and started talking to someone. I only heard his side of the conversation and it was all about me. I kept hearing him say “her” and “she”. I sighed; it looks like these people thought I was a girl too. Not that I was giving them any reason to doubt me. I looked more like a girl now than ever. I was wearing a pair of my mother’s shorts and my bikini top; my assets were on display for the world to see.
The Jamaican kept talking. All I could think about was the man who led the assault on our boat. Though they were nothing alike, his voice made me cringe. I’d been having a lot of nightmares about that voice.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I lied, I don’t know why. “It’s Bonnie” I said, internally groaning. “Bonnie King.”

Great now I’m the damn cousin from Texas. I even said it with that stupid accent.

Dr. Carlson starting asking me other questions but I didn’t want to answer anything more. I was nervous and excited. I kept looking at the ship, wanting more than anything to get on it and off this island. But she kept asking. I kept refusing to answer. I clutched my bow in a death grip. I wasn’t going to let it go, I don’t know why. My heart was racing and I was starting to get a little woozy. I think Dr. Carlson noticed because she was doing everything to keep me conscious. I’m not sure if it was a delayed reaction or what. I was so happy to be rescued I think I overdid myself. The exhaustion from all the running caught up with me at that particular moment.

The world came rushing around me and I passed out in her arms.

>-------------------------------------------------->

The scream woke me up.

I snapped my eyes open, confused because I thought I was dreaming. I sat up, the fluffy white comforter slid off my body as I did so. I woke to darkness, which was strange. More strange was the fact that I had no idea where I was. I wasn’t in my hammock, I was on a bed and there were no creaking trees, strange jungle noises or stifling heat to greet me. Instead, the room was cool; the only noise was that scream and I was sure I was no longer on the island. I tried to think back to what happened. I remembered seeing the cruise ship, running myself to exhaustion to get to the beach and then the people came. They must have taken me to their ship when I passed out.

Oh, God, I’m off the island. I would have been ecstatic if not for that scream.

I jumped out of bed, nearly stumbling because I wasn’t used to being so high. I hung my hammock low and sleeping on it as long as I did, one tends to get accustomed to that. I stumbled about in the dark, trying to figure out what was going on. I found the wall and the light switch a few seconds later. I flipped the switch and the room exploded with light. I stumbled into the wall, shielding my eyes. It was fricking bright. I wasn’t used to so much light. I was used to the light the jungle provided which was half obscured by foliage unless I got into the open. Even then, it was quite different from the artificial light from a bulb.

I looked around my room and was shocked to see it was quite large. It wasn’t as big as my room at home or the one in the beach house but it was bigger than I thought. It was decorated in a corny nautical theme; everything was blue and white. The walls were wood paneling and the floors were carpeted. There was a closet, a white dresser, a huge vanity with mirror and a bathroom off to the side. The main wall had a huge white Q on it; I knew instantly what kind of cruise ship I was on. I knew the logo well: it appeared on every packet I received from my grandfather. I groaned. My mother spent my whole life trying to shield me from her father and all his billions but it had a tendency to pop back into our lives every now and then.

I heard another scream and it snapped me back to reality.

I ran to the door and opened it a crack. There was no one in the hall but I could hear screaming. What the hell was going on? Then I heard it, it was distant at first but it was recognizable. It was a noise that any avid action movie fan would know: gunfire. Holy crap. I shut the door slowly and leaned against it. What the hell is it with me and boats? I took a deep breath and pushed the dresser in front of the door. It wasn’t heavy at all but a while ago, it would have been. I guess all that jungle exercise was really paying off.

I turned around and saw my room had a balcony. There was a pair of glass doors opening up into it. I wonder if I can get out that way? I was about to rush to it when I heard the rain. It was pouring like crazy out there. I looked around my room and found the suitcase, my bow lying on top of it. I rushed over, finding a note there as well. It was from Dr. Carlson: Bonnie, I put all your stuff in the room with you. The Captain want me to check it for some ID but I told him I wasn’t about to invade your privacy. I also brought your walking stick; you were clutching it so tightly that it took me forever to get it out of your hand. When you’re up and about the Captain would like to see you, there’s some questions he’d like to ask you.

I opened the case and found my quiver and tarp right where I left it. I pulled them both out. I was wearing my clothes from the beach, so I’m glad no one bothered to undress me. I wonder what kind of shock they would have gotten seeing my you-know-what. I couldn’t imagine trying to explain things to them---after calming them down of course. I wasn’t too happy about them thinking I was a girl but I guess it was good for now. Hopefully I wasn’t going to be on this ship too long.

I pulled the tarp on; making sure the hood was over my head. It was a little big and obscured my face but it did its job. On the island, I don’t know how many times the thing kept me dry. It might have been a little stiff and uncomfortable but it was kind of cool too. Robin Hood wore a cape and hood when he went traipsing around in Sherwood. I wonder if he thought it was cool too.

I secured my quiver, restrung my bow and ran out onto the balcony.

The boat was no longer moving. Whoever was onboard, shooting, must have gotten to the bridge. I looked down, trying to see if I could see anything. I had a pretty good idea what was going on too. Before we left there was a lot of talk about pirates in the area. The Coast Guard and the Navy were having problems keeping them all in check. After I went into the water and was on the island a few days, I concluded that that’s what probably killed my parents. I thought they were drug dealers at first but now I was certain they were pirates. I still couldn’t figure out why they’d burn my parent’s boat though.

I hope these are the same ones. I hefted my bow and jumped barefoot onto the balcony railing. With only one hand, I grabbed the bottom of the balcony above me and pulled myself up. My upper body strength was insane now. I can’t remember how many pull ups I did in one day but I was sure it was more than the average man. After a while, I even got bored and started doing them one handed. I know it sounds crazy but there’s not a lot to do on a deserted island. Like I said before, exercise helped focus my mind and kept me sane. Without it, I’d of probably started talking to a coconut or something.

I climbed over the railing and slipped belly first onto the balcony. The room above me was identical to mine. The sliding glass door was unlocked and I let myself in. Whoever was there looked like they were about to go scuba diving or something. There were two beds in this room; one of them had a green and black wetsuit lying on the bed. Whoever it was, who stayed here had left in a hurry. There was a half-eaten sandwich on the night stand and a cup of coffee. I stuck my finger in the coffee; it was still warm. Did the gunshots scare them?

I walked to the door and peered out. There was no one in the hall. I went back into the room, closing the door and started pacing. I couldn’t keep climbing from balcony to balcony; someone was eventually going to find me. It was only a matter of time before whoever it was went room to room. I had to do something and I had to do it fast. In my pacing, I bumped one of the other tables in the room, causing the newspaper sitting on it to fall not the floor. The headline caught my eye: Mysterious Jade Saves Tour Bus. The name of the reporter---Lois Lane---appeared underneath as well as a grainy black and white photo, depicting what looked like a girl in a strange costume, hovering near a bus. She was in front of it, pointing her clenched fist at it and there was some kind of glow surrounding the bus, lifting it off the ground.

What the hell? I grabbed the paper off the floor and started to read: Mysterious Jade, the woman who calls herself the Green Lantern, strikes again. This time it was in Miami Florida where a tour bus full of senior citizens blew out a tire on a bridge and skidded into the guardrail. The bus was tittering on the brink, ready to go over when Jade appeared out of nowhere. She used her strange green ring and saved the bus. When this reporter tried to get an interview, Jade smiled, refused to comment and flew off. The passengers of the bus were ecstatic and the Mayor praised our new green protector for her courage and bravery. “We need more people like her in the world,” he said with a big smile on his face.

What is this? I sat on the corner of the bed, flabbergasted. This Jade person must have popped up when I was on the island. I quickly looked at the date: it was October 20th. Holy crap, I’d been on the island for almost three months. Damn, it felt longer than that. I stared at the picture again; the woman in it didn’t look like a woman at all. She looked be about my age. It was kind of cool. Mia was huge superhero fan and always said the world would be cool if they really existed. She was a huge fan of one of them; I could never remember her name. Me, I’d never really gotten into the whole thing, I liked my Robin Hood. I was always used to tell her “screw men in spandex, the world needs a Robin Hood again.”

I dropped the paper on the floor.

I went to pick up again but stopped when I looked at the wetsuit. There’s no way. I looked at the picture on the front page again and back to the wetsuit. I kept looking at both of them and finally sighed. I left the paper and grabbed the wetsuit. What the hell was I doing, I had no clue. But there were people in trouble on this ship. Yes, the bad guys had guns but I had the element of surprise on my side. Was I crazy? You bet your ass I was. But I needed to do something. Maybe they’d think I was Jade and surrender. I laughed at that.

I slipped off my shorts, the tarp and my quiver. I wasn’t wearing any underwear but I had the bikini bottoms on. They were real tight but they were good enough. I pulled the wetsuit on slowly. It was a little tight in a few places but it looked all right. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at myself. It was really tight and left nothing to the imagination. I had a body, a real hot body. Looking at me sent shiver up and down my spine. No guy alive had a body like this. Was it possible that I’d never be able to go back to being a guy again?

I smirked. As scary as that sounds I need to think about the now.

I pulled my tarp back on, pulling the hood down over my head. I looked like a total idiot but if it could distract the goons then I didn’t care. I grabbed my quiver, putting it at my waist and nocked an arrow. I opened the door and slipped out into the hallway.

Here goes nothing.

-----

Author's Note: Today is only a one chapter post. It's Jonas Vs. The Pirates. Once again I have to say that Green Arrow is a trademark and copyright of DC Comics. I'd also like to thank djkauf for the fabulous editing job and Lynceus for the awesome "hero support".

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Chapter Six:

I crept along the hallway, keeping my bow raised the whole time. BB taught Roy and me how to hunt like his people. He took us both on a hunting trip when we were eight and showed us the finer point of deer hunting. He said his people had a knack for sneaking up on their target without being seen. It was all about the way you stepped and how you carried your weight. He demonstrated but not on a deer. Instead, he crept up on a bush and fired an arrow into it. Roy and I were a little skeptical because it was a bush after all. But BB said the principle was sound. He showed us another demonstration by sneaking up on a rabbit. He got pretty close before he fired his shot. But he didn’t kill it; he never killed anything.

I was creeping along now, padding down the hall in my bare feet, not making a sound. I was on the fifth deck of the ship now, moving my way up to the top. Apparently, I seemed to be the only person they didn’t have locked down. To me it felt like an inside job, it was the only explanation. They came in, emptied out all the rooms and took everyone somewhere else. They had to know the manifest and roster to know who was on the ship. Which meant either that they had a hacker or someone from the cruise line gave them the information. I knew that Queen Star Cruise, a subsidiary of Queen Industries, ran one of the best security mainframes in the world. Old man Queen---aka my Grandfather---would never have allowed a hacker into his system. He knew “everything about everyone”; my mother used to say it was “his business”.

My business was to find the bad guys and put a stop to them. I know it sounded corny but it was really the only way. I made an oath, a solemn vow that no one would be put in harm’s way when I was around. These people were in trouble and someone needed to help them. That sounded even cornier but I wasn’t going to let these bastards get away with this.

When I rounded the corner, I came upon my first pirate. I took a deep breath and slipped back around the corner. There was only one of them. He was a greasy looking guy, holding an AK47, standing between me and the only way up to the top deck. There were a couple ways I could do this: kill or wound. Well, actually only one way and it was the simplest for me. I took another deep breath and snapped around the corner, firing as I did so. My arrow whizzed through the air and found its target. I hit the son of a bitch in the left shoulder, putting the arrow right underneath the collarbone. He screamed out in pain and dropped his machine gun.

I slipped down the hall. He saw me coming and tried to stand up but the pain was too much. I smacked him as hard as I could with the limb of the bow. I heard a crack and for a second I thought it was the bow. Then I realized it was his jaw. He dropped face first onto the carpet, unconscious from my blow. Well, either that or the blood seeping from his shoulder. I checked him to make sure he was out cold. I tried to retrieve my arrow but he broke it when he fell. That’s got to be painful. Snapping an arrow when it was inside of you was never a good thing but then again pulling it out wasn’t very bright either.

I rifled through the pockets of his coat, looking for anything that might ID him. I found a wallet but there was no driver’s license in it. There was a lot of money though, way too much for a thug like him to have. I took it all, sticking it in the only place I could: my bikini top. Where the hell did he get all that money? I know it was wrong for a hero to take from the bad guy but it was over five hundred bucks. In fact, it felt a little uncomfortable pressed against my chest---I’m refusing to acknowledge them as boobs.

I stepped over him and went up the stairs. I was amazed at how big and open everything was. It was so clean too. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. I mean I’d seen the TV commercials and the brochures, but they didn’t do it justice. It was like a floating hotel. When I walked up those stairs, I didn’t even know I was on a ship. Everything looked as if it should. I was half expecting to see the cast from Love Boat walk by---yes, I know what it is, I watch a lot of TV Land. I’d like to describe what I was seeing but I didn’t even know where to begin. I could feel the breeze on my face and smell the salty sea air. For a moment I closed my eyes and felt like I was still on Starfish Island---cool name, huh, I thought it up just now.

I unfortunately didn’t get much time to take in the sights.

Two guys came walking up, leisurely holding their guns. They didn’t see me, which was to my advantage. Merlyn always said an archer has two great weapons at his disposal: speed and accuracy. He demonstrated it by setting up four targets; each one had a balloon attached to it. He gave me a stopwatch and told me to time him. When I told him go it was so fast. He drew and fired all within a blink of an eye. One balloon popped then the other until they were all gone. I timed him at just less than twenty seconds. I’m not sure if that was good or not but he seemed impressed by it. My first speed trial didn’t go so well, I did it in about forty five seconds but he told me it was better than when he first started learning.

But I kept working at it. Two months before we left, shortly after learning about my condition, something changed…

>-------------------------------------------------->

“Ten seconds” said Roy as he hit the button, stopping the timer.

I lowered my bow, my heart was thumping, my palms were sweaty and I was on fire. I usually got that way when I was shooting but today something different. I’m not sure what it was but I felt like the whole world stopped for a minute there. It was just me, my bow and those four targets. When I fired, it felt as if the world was slowing down. Everything was perfect and precise. For a second there I felt something too. I’m not sure what it was but it was definitely something.

‘That was fricking impressive,” said Roy, giving me a big hug.

I shrugged out of it quickly. My chest was a bit tender and itchy. My mother was supposed to get something for me to hide it but right now, it was too exposed. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was a Class A Freak. Already I had to forego showering and had to change in the bathroom. The Coach and Mr. Grell, our principal, were the only ones outside my family who knew what was going on. It was already embarrassing enough that I had to wear a camisole to school. I didn’t want Roy hugging me and noticing something was wrong.

He and the other guys were already freaking me out as it was. I’ve always been a little girly, but lately it’s been ten times worse. Someone actually asked me out today and yesterday I swore a couple guys in the mall were checking me out. It was absolutely horrible. Roy wasn’t helping either. This morning when he, Mia and I walked to school, he kept giving me these funny looks. Mia noticed too and slugged him in the back of the head. Roy confessed, admitting that my hair looked shinier. I hadn’t really noticed but Mia said the same thing a couple of days ago.

She was my rock. It was actually Mia who noticed something was wrong with me. We were stripping off in the boathouse on her property. Mia had this awesome outdoor pool that was heated, so as soon as spring hit the water was amazing. For as long as I could remember, she and I used to change together. Now that we were older we were both somewhat nervous about it but that all changed as soon as I took off my shirt. Her mouth dropped open when she saw my chest and the swollen nipples. I thought I was coming down with something. But she knew better. She went and grabbed her mother, who was a Pediatrician. It was Mrs. D who told my mother and everything else was history.

“How did you do that?”

I shrugged. “I’ve been practicing a lot lately.”

Roy shook his head. “That was unreal; I’ve never seen anything like it. I didn’t even see you pull the arrows from your quiver”

He knew all about my sessions with Merlyn. At first, he was a little miffed because Merlyn was the best. But after I told him I impressed the hell out Merlyn, he was stoked. He started calling me Robin Hood Jr. for a while which was both cool and annoying at the same time. I started ribbing him about his hair; it was a sore subject for Roy. BB and Roy’s new family were the only ones who were allowed to pick on his hair. Roy compensated by trying to be the best archer he could be.

Roy knew archery better than most. Archery was in Roy’s blood or pretty close to it. So me making those shots was absolutely unheard of. When BB adopted him, they gave him a new name, calling him “Red Arrow” because of his red hair.

I looked at the four-inch long red arrow on Roy’s forearm. He got a tattoo when he turned thirteen. He called it his “rite of passage” into manhood. I tried to convince my parents to let me have one but they didn’t go for it. My father wasn’t happy with BB for a while; he hated the fact that he put insane thoughts in my head. I got over the tattoo real quick; especially when I found out it involved needles. I can’t stand needles.

“No amount of practice can achieve that!”

So we set up four more balloons and I tried again. I did the same thing. We tried three more times after that. A crowd started to gather, including the Coach. I completely forgot that we were at school. Usually Roy and I practiced in my backyard but he had soccer practice in a few minutes. We always tried to squeeze in practice time whenever possible. I became somewhat of a spectacle after popping my fourth set; people started cheering and wanted me to pop more. The Coach put a stop to it. He claimed I had to be exhausted but I wasn’t. Which was strange because I should have been. He made the crowd part, which included Roy who was late for practice now.

“Are you feeling all right, Jonas?”

I nodded. I hadn’t even broken a sweat, which was strange because usually firing that many arrows was a lot of work. “I’m good, Coach”.

Coach McCoy nodded, crossing his arms in front of him. The Coach was a big guy, built like a linebacker. He was only a coach part time. He was actually a professor from Berkeley and was on loan for the time being. The school had some budget cuts last year and they had to cancel the athletics program, but Professor McCoy came through. He agreed to run things, without pay, because he felt athletics was the most important part of a child’s upbringing. He wasn’t the only one who worked for free around here. He was able to recruit a lot of young athletes from the college to come and help. The Coach was a well-liked guy and had a lot of friends.

The Coach frowned. It was strange, because the Coach frowned a lot. He wasn’t exactly the kind of guy that one would expect to teach several sports but he was athletic and super agile. I think he was a gymnast or something because he could move in ways that I’d never seen anyone move. Which was strange because he was such a big guy.

He sighed. “It’s a shame the Board won’t let you play anymore.”

I nodded. I found out yesterday that the Board had decided that in order to keep my condition secret, but there were a few things I had to give up. One of them was gym class, the other was my sports. I was pretty pissed but I understood why I was such a risk. I was neither boy nor girl. It would have been a lawsuit waiting to happen if anyone found out that I was in the girl’s locker room changing with them. The same could be said for the boys but they were avoiding putting me in there for a few good reasons. So the official story was that I had a fatigue problem, that I got tired too easily and couldn’t keep up with the strain.

‘Can I finish up here?” He smiled and nodded. He stayed with me as I continued to pop balloons. Even he was a bit impressed. In fact, I think there was a bit of a sparkle in his eye. It was only there for a second. He asked me a few questions, mainly about my family life and medical history. I told him I didn’t know much about either. My father’s family lived in another state and we only saw them every other year or so. My mother only had her father left and I’d never met him. I saw him all the time but who didn’t. He had an ego the size of Texas and plastered his face all over the television.

I fired arrows for another hour, the Coach stayed with me the whole time. Never once did I break a sweat and never once did I miss. Neither of us said anything after his initial questions but he kept nodding every so often. When I finished he told me if there was anything I wanted to talk about that I knew where to find him.

It many have been strange to fire so many arrows like that but I thought it was kind of awesome.

>-------------------------------------------------->

The two pirates were laughing and still didn’t notice me.

I clung to the wall, staying in the shadows. I was able to blend in with the green table umbrella right next to me. It was the best disguise. The two of them were talking about the passengers, laughing at how easy it was. They were pretty carefree about it too. It was hard to understand them because they were switching between Spanish and English, which was kind of strange. One of them was clearly American while the other was of Hispanic origin---I didn’t want to speculate because my mother always taught me that that was rude.

They started walking closer. “What the hell is the boss going to do with a cruise ship anyway?” asked the American.

‘I heard he wasn’t really after the ship. It was the guy who owned it. Someone paid him big money for this.” The guy who owned it? What the hell would a pirate want with my grandfather? Granted it was a multi-billionaire but he had nothing to do with pirates. Queen Industries had their hands all over the world, in just about everything. But they were legit, unlike some other corporations. There was no way my grandfather would have anything to do with pirates. As far as someone paying a pirate to capture one of my grandfather’s ships, a few people came to mind. It was all over the news; some big company was trying to buy out Queen Industries. The company’s name was left out but there was a lot of speculation as to who it might be. But were they stupid enough to pull this?

I let anger get the best of me.

I fired my first shot, hitting the American in the shoulder. Shoulder shots were the easiest way to subdue someone. But I couldn’t help but think there had to be another way without actually harming people. But it did the trick. The bastard fell to the ground. His companion was too slow. I dropped him with an arrow to the thigh. Both men hit the deck about the same time, withering in pain. I nocked another arrow and sidled over, keeping them in my sights. But neither was in any shape to fight back. Just to make sure though, I kicked their guns away.

“What the fuck?” snapped the American, trying to pull the arrow out of his shoulder?
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you”.

I made my voice as cold as possible. I wanted to sound threatening and not like the girl, I appeared to be. I don’t think it worked out all that well. They both laughed through their pain.

“It’s a chica,” said the Hispanic. “What the hell are you supposed to be?” I kicked him in the face. Ok I’m only fourteen years old---fifteen actually, because my birthday was in September--- me kicking a grown man in the face shouldn’t have caused much damage. So I was a bit surprised when I actually broke his nose. Maybe all that exercise actually paid off.

“I’m asking the questions around here.”

The American was no longer in any shape to answer anything. In fact, the pain from both his shoulder and his face caused him to pass out. I smirked, surprised that I’d actually done something so vicious. But I didn’t have time to be Mr. Courteous. There were people’s lives at stake here. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

The Hispanic wasn’t in the best of shape either. The arrow in his leg must have hurt like a bitch. He was twitching and moaning, doing everything to stay conscious. He was feebly trying to pull it out but he was so weak that his fingers could barely grasp it.

‘You shot me in the leg,” he moaned.

I nodded. “If you don’t want a matching one in your throat then you’re going to tell me what I want to know?”

He nodded. So I asked the questions and he gave me the answers. I found out that there were twelve of them altogether, which mean I had about nine left. They came in two speedboats and took the ship by surprise. Most of the passengers were already in the dining hall eating lunch and watching some horrible magic act. The rest were at either the pool or doing some other stupid activity. When I asked them why they hit the cruise ship, he said he didn’t know because they usually went for yachts. The cruise ship was too big to sell and there were too many people onboard. But the boss was adamant about it, apparently he was being paid handsomely for it. I asked him if he knew who their mysterious employer was but he shook his head. He passed out shortly after my questions but I got what I needed to know.

I left him and his friend. The passengers were being held in the dining hall while the crew was locked in the bridge. That’s where the boss was too. It was the ideal place to go but I wanted to secure the hostages first. According to my bleeding friend, four guys were left in charge of guard duty; he and his friend were sentries. The guy downstairs was in charge of rounding up any stragglers. This meant the boss had about four guys with him. Twelve guys altogether. I silently counted my arrows. I had twenty to begin with and was down by three, which left me plenty for the deed.

I made my way silently down the deck, passing several tables with giant umbrellas and deck chairs. The entrance to the dining room was on the other side of the pool. When I reached the pool, I sighed. I’d always wanted to swim in one of those pools. When my parents went on their cruise they couldn’t stop talking about the pool and other things. I felt a pang as I looked at the crystal clear water, knowing that I’d never be able to take the trip with them like they promised.

The dining room was huge. It was two floors; the top floor was visible through the large glass windows that surrounded it. I peered through one of those windows, seeing one guy on the top level while the other three were downstairs with a whole bunch of people. This isn’t going to be easy. As soon as I opened a door, that bastard was going to start shooting. I needed a distraction.

I found one in the form of a golf cart. Yes, there was an actual golf cart on the top deck. I think it went with the miniature golf course that was right nearby. I tried to force back my excitement because that was so fricking cool. Instead, I concentrated on the task. I ran over to the golf cart, shocked that the keys were still in the ignition. I’d actually driven one once before. My father was a golfer and liked to drag me to the course. I hated everything about the game, it was real boring---I liked mini-golf though---but he let me drive the cart. It was the coolest thing in the world.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t driving it now. I found a life jacket nearby and jammed the gas pedal with it. Then I turned the ignition. The cart purred to life and I let her go. I had t pointed at the glass door leading into the dining room. My wish was for it to crash into the door and cause enough of a bang to draw the guard out. It didn’t go quite like I planned.

The cart hit the door all right but instead of stopping it went right through the glass. The pirate turned and started firing. But he was shooting at nothing. I think he realized it about ten seconds before the cart barreled into him. It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. The cart ran right over him and skidded to a halt inches from going over the side of the rail. It sputtered to a stop.

I ran over to check the man’s pulse to make sure I hadn’t killed him. He was lying flat on his back, groaning. So he wasn’t dead, which was a good thing.
The bad thing was my distraction worked a little better than I thought. It caused too much of a commotion and drew a guy from the bottom up the stairs. He came charging at me, machine gun at the ready. He fired; a burst of it hit the ground right in front of me. I stumbled back, tripping over my own two feet. I managed to get up and fell into a table. I went over the top of it, causing it to tip on its side and crash with me. Plates and silverware broke and scattered all over the place. The pirate advanced on me, firing another burst.

I used the table as cover. It wasn’t wood like most dining places. It was actually metal, which saved my life.

The pirate advanced. I pulled an arrow from my quiver but realized one very important thing. I lost my bow; I think I dropped it when he started shooting. Damn, some hero I turned out to be. He started shooting again. I was screwed. I needed to do something so I fumbled for a weapon. My hands came across something long and shiny. I didn’t bother to see what it was. I snapped up and let it fly. It flew with great speed and accuracy, which was fricking unbelievable. It hit the pirate right in the forehead.

He screamed and fired downwards, shooting his own feet. Which I think made him scream even more. Me, I was shocked as hell. I realized what I’d just thrown at him: it was a fork.

“Holy Hannah” I gasped.

I walked over to the golf cart guy and found my bow lying there. I picked it up and nocked an arrow. Fork head guy sat up and reached for his gun. I put an arrow in his shoulder and he screamed. I smacked him in the face with the limb of the bow, silencing his agony.

I ran to the railing and looked down. All the hostages were in the center of the dining room, there had to be at least two hundred people down there. They were murmuring and looking around. The noise was quite loud. The two guards were looking kind of nervous. I think they were debating whether or not to leave their posts or stand guard. One finally made up his mind and started running for the stairs. The other stayed below. I’m not sure if either saw me or not, but I wasn’t going to take that chance. I drew another arrow and fired. I hit one on the stairs in the right leg, just above the knee, exactly where I was aiming.
He took a stumble and fell down the stairs. When he hit the ground, he was out cold.

The last ran and took cover behind the bar. He raised his machine gun and started firing up at me blindly. I took him down with a well-placed shot to the shoulder. He didn’t get back up. This caused an even bigger commotion and people started looking around, gasping. I’m not sure how many of them looked up and saw me. I didn’t stay around long enough to find out. I’d rescued the hostages and now it was time to take on the Boss.

>-------------------------------------------------->

There were two guys standing on either side of the door. The other three, including the boss, must have been inside guarding the crew. These two didn’t have AK-47s, they were packing MP5s and they looked pretty nasty. There was something about these two that told me they weren’t the typical pirates. They were dressed in black and looked like soldiers. Maybe they were Mercs. I’d seen a lot of action movies in my day and these guys definitely looked like the baddies for hire that usually appeared in them. The only question was why did the pirates have mercs?

I took a deep breath and raised my bow.

I was about to fire when I felt something hard pressed against my head and heard a click. I realized what it was and how stupid I’d been. I lowered the bow as a hand reached around and took it from my hands.

“You didn’t honestly think you could do all that stuff and not be noticed” said a voice as my captor walked around the front of me.

He was another one of those black suited Merc types. He had an MP5 slung around his shoulder but the gun pointed at me was some kind of pistol. He kept it pointed at my face. He motioned me into the open and one of the guards at the door came down the hall, keeping his gun on me. My captor put away his pistol and examined my bow.

“This is pretty good,” he said, running his hands along one of the limbs. “Did you make this yourself?”

When I didn’t respond he sneered and broke it in half over his knee. I felt a pain in my gut when I heard it crack. It took me forever to make that thing. I put my tears, sweat and blood into it. It pissed me off to see him break it like that. I snapped. I’m not sure exactly what happened but it was like the world slowed down around me. I’d only felt like this once before, when I shot those balloons in ten seconds. It was an incredible and scary feeling.

I lashed out at the son of a bitch. I punched him in the face and kicked him in the balls. I’m not a fighter, so I had no idea what I was doing. Whatever it was, it only seemed to stun him for a second. He lashed out at me too. His fist went right for my head but instead of hitting me like a normal punch, it was like a slow motion punch. I saw it coming long before it reached me. I was able to dodge it easily. I dodged his other swing too, ducking under it. I blocked his kick and gave him one of my own. It was fricking incredible, I was moving like Jet Li or something. I was moving too fast for him to stop anything or maybe it was because everything was too slow.

I’m not sure. But whatever the reason, I finally laid the son of bitch out by punching him in the throat. He gasped and fell to the floor, clasping his nose. The world went back to normal speed and the other Merc was on me. I was a few feet away from him and grabbed my broken bow from the ground. I ran at him, laying into him as well. I used the two limbs like swords, slapping one down on his gun hand and hitting him in the kneecaps with the other. He dropped to the ground; I smacked him across the face and ran at the last Merc. My body went into slow motion again. I’m not sure how I was doing it and I didn’t care. I charged down the hall, the other Merc was raising his gun. He fired a burst at me but it too was moving real slow. I actually passed it in the hall as I ran. It flew by me like a slow moving swarm of bees.

I slammed into the guy, disarming him. I threw him over my shoulder, using my body and shoulder to overcome his weight and size. He landed behind me and I snapped back to normal speed. I was panting like crazy, not sure exactly what happened. I was panting heavily, looking at the three guys I had just torn through like they were tissue paper. I looked at my hands and they started to shake. Whatever I just did scared the hell out of me.

I almost threw up. Instead, I forced myself back and went to look for a weapon. I still had one more son of a bitch to take care of.

I found a knife on the guy I flipped over my shoulder. I pulled it out of its sheath, he was still conscious but I’d knocked the wind out of him. He was gasping for breath when I took his knife. He looked up at me with unbelieving eyes.

“You’re just a little girl,” he gasped.

I smirked. “Tell that to them.”

I punched him in the face and that did the trick. But boy, did it hurt like hell. I shook my hand off afterwards. The guy was out cold like his buddies though. I took my knife and went to the bridge door. I wonder what kind of bastards were waiting behind it for me. If my calculations were correct, there were only two left now, the boss and one of his goons. I couldn’t help but wonder what this was all about in the first place. There was something more going on than just grabbing a cruise ship. I mean they appeared to be pirates but what was up with the damn Mercs.

I grabbed the handle and took a deep breath. I knew it wasn’t wise to walk right into the room but there was no other way inside. I suppose I could of jumped through a window or something but that was crazy. They would be expecting that. They wouldn’t be expecting me to just walk right into the room. So that’s what I did. I turned the knob and opened the door.

When the door was fully open, I saw them. There were several people in white lying on the ground, their hands behind their heads. Standing over them were two guys dressed in black, like the Mercs. One of them had an MP5 and was pointing it at the crew. The other was standing nonchalantly off to the side, holding a pistol. He smiled when I walked into the room. He was a vicious looking bastard, bald and black. He had a jagged scar running down the side of his face and sat on the console when he saw me.

“I wasn’t expecting a little girl,” he laughed, causing the other to smile. “I was half expecting Steven Segal.”

That got another laugh.

“You’re not pirates,” I said, trying to keep my cool.

He sighed. “No, we’re not” he pointed to himself and the man next to him. “Neither were the three in the hall. But the seven you stuck full of holes were.”

There was something about him, something that made me think that he’d never dirty himself with the likes of pirates.

“What the hell is this all about, then?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really know. I just do what I’m told. My employer told me to get a bunch of lowlifes and convince them I was one of them. Then he told me to create some pirating scares. After a few of those, I got a call to take out this cruise ship. No one second guesses anything he tells you to do; it’s very bad for your health.”

‘Who is he?”

The man smiled. “Why would I tell you that?”

The other man laughed. I looked around the room, trying to see if I could turn this situation to my advantage. But I couldn’t and now I was screwed. Playing superhero was a dumb idea. I wasn’t the girl in the paper, she had super powers. I was just some dumb kid, who was half boy and half girl. I was good with a bow, which I didn’t even have anymore. These guys were professionals and they were going to kill me. I wanted to cry but I couldn’t let them see me do that.

So I bit my lip and stood up straight.

“Now then” said the Boss, waving the gun in the air. “Why don’t you drop your knife, take off your silly cape and get down on your knees.”

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. I dropped the knife with a clang. Then I lowered my hood, allowing them to see my face for the first time. The both of them laughed.

The boss smirked. “You really are a little girl, aren’t you?”

He was laughing when he pointed his gun at me. He was about to pull the trigger when he stopped. His laugh was caught in the middle as a black arrow whizzed through the window behind him and stuck in the back of his head. Blood spit from his mouth, he fired at the floor and fell forward dead. He almost hit me on the way down but I jumped out of the way. His goon snapped around and took an arrow in the face. He dropped too just as quickly. I was scared but ran to the window to see who saved my life.

There was a black clad figure standing on the bow of the boat. He was holding a bow but a hood shrouded his face. He lowered the bow, nodded curtly at me and then disappeared over the side of the boat. I stood there flabbergasted. What the hell just happened? Who the hell was he? I was only stunned for a few seconds though. I recovered quickly.

As the crew was starting to get up, I threw my hood back on and took off. I didn’t want anyone to see me. I ran through the ship as quickly as possible. I snatched up my broken bow along the way. I ran hard and quick. When I got to my floor, I pulled off my tarp. When I got to my room, I stuffed everything back into my mother’s suitcase. I threw the wetsuit off the balcony and watched as it drifted to the water below. I ran over to my bed after that and waited.
It didn’t take long for someone to knock on the door and Dr. Carlson to enter. I pretended to walk up from sleeping. She sighed, relieved, putting her hand to her chest. I feigned rubbing my eyes and yawned.

“Sweetie have you been asleep this whole time?”

I nodded. “Did something happen?”

-----

Author's Note: Two chapter update. I liked to thank everyone who contributed and once again like to thank djkauf for the awesome editing. Green Arrow is a trademark and copyright of DC Comics.

-----

Chapter Seven:

It didn’t take long for my escapades to travel around the ship. Everyone was buzzing about the strange “Green Archer” who rescued them and stopped all the pirates. Some people actually thought it was Jade in disguise. But those few who saw me before I disappeared seemed to think I was some kind of green clad angel. It didn’t take long before the Coast Guard to show up and sort things out.

The Coast Guard took the remaining pirates into custody and asked a lot of questions but didn’t get any answers. They definitely wanted to know who the Green Archer was. Shortly thereafter, the crew did a head count and questioned everyone. But it seems most of the people were in the Dining Hall. There were a few who eluded capture, like Dr. C. who was hiding in one of the storage rooms. They didn’t question me; the Captain said I was too traumatized by my earlier ordeal. Dr. C. vouched for me too, saying I was asleep in my cabin the whole time.

I was questioned about the island though. The Captain gave the Coast Guard the coordinates. Apparently, they actually knew about it. The island belonged to the US Navy; they used it during World War Two to spot enemy planes trying to fly over the Atlantic. After a few months, it was abandoned. It was left off a lot of charts because it was insignificant. The land wasn’t fertile and it was so far out of any shipping lanes that it was a bother to settle.

I was questioned about my identity too. So I stuck with the Bonnie King story. I told them I was seventeen, which I don’t think anyone believed. I also told them I was on a yacht when I fell overboard. I made it clear that I had no idea how I washed up on the island. They grilled me with some other questions but the Captain put a stop to it. The Coast Guard left me alone after that. But they did want to know if I saw the Green Archer person. I told them exactly what Dr. C told them: that I was asleep in my cabin and saw nothing. I’m not sure if they believed me but I didn’t give a damn.

A few days after the Coast Guard left with its prisoners, the press descended on the ship. They were like bloodthirsty wolves, trying to score up a good story. As soon as some of the hostages starting talking about the mysterious archer, the press had a field day. They started to interview everyone. CNN quickly ran a story with a headline that read: MYSTERIOUS GREEN CLAD ARCHER SAVES CRUISE SHIP. The press started dubbing the Archer “Miss Arrowette”, it was kind of corny and real embarrassing, not to mention stupid. What the hell kind of name was that? Then again who was I to talk; I was “Bonnie King” after all. Reporters started hounding everyone, trying to get their story. It was a black haired woman in a smart red suit that caught up with me.

She sat down in the chair next to mine as I lounged at the pool, reading a borrowed paperback. She smiled at me. “You’re the girl they rescued off that island right?”

I nodded. “That’s right, I’m Bonnie King.” I overdid that horrible accent just to make sure.

The woman smiled. “Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

She stuck a little recorder in my face. When I nodded, she smiled. She wasn’t a wolf like the rest of them; she was a shark.

I recognized her name. “You’re the one who wrote that story on Jade rescuing that bus.”

“That’s right” she said, “do you know a lot about Jade?”

I shook my head. “I was on that island since sometime in August. According to what I’ve read, Jade popped up only a few days ago.”

Lois seemed to hear me but she didn’t seem to care or something. “What do you know about Metahumans?”

“What the heck is that?”

She filled me in a little bit. A Metahuman was someone who exhibited abilities beyond normal humans. So far, none had appeared yet but according to Jade, several were going to start to appear all around the world.

It was an exciting and dangerous time. But Lois sounded kind of excited about it. If I was a reporter, I might be as well. I mean all these “super-heroes” popping up and saving people. As I looked at her, I realized she had one of those Savior complex things, I could see it on her face. She was itching for someone to swoop down from the sky and scoop her up.

She asked more general questions, mainly about the island. I told her everything I was willing to tell. I left out the part about making a bow and arrows to survive. If she knew that then there was the possibility that she’d connect me to Miss Arrowette---God I’ve got to change that name. After that, the interview started dwindling down but she hit me with one more zinger before she left.

“If Miss Arrowette uses green arrows, who used the black?”

I shrugged. “How would I know that?” It was an interesting question and one that had been bugging me for a few days now. After pretending to wake up in my stateroom, I went back to the bow of the ship to investigate. There was no visual evidence. I even looked over the side, to see if the Black Archer---that’s what I’ve been calling him---had rigged some kind of escape. But there was nothing there. I’m sure at the time he probably had a parachute or a rope that I just didn’t see. Then there were the arrows he used. I wish I hadn’t fled so quickly and had gotten a closer look at one. They were far more high-tech than my own. For one thing, they looked expensive and very professional. They were also meant to kill. I saw a broad-head a split second before it hit the Merc in the face.

“It was nice talking to you, Bonnie,” said Miss Lane, holding out her hand to me.

I smiled and shook it. She made a face for a second. “Such rough hands for such a dainty thing like yourself.”

I inwardly gulped. This one was going to be a real problem. I outwardly smiled and bid her goodbye. Before she disappeared, her young cameraman snapped a few shots and then they were gone. I let out a sigh of relief. There were a couple people nearby, close enough to hear me, and they laughed. Apparently, they were close enough to hear the interview too. One of them was a reporter too. He smiled at me, then frowned a bit. “Don’t worry, kid, Lane’s like that with everyone.” That made me feel a little better.

>-------------------------------------------------->

When I was picked up by the Sword of the Ocean---that’s the name of the cruise ship---they were only two days out of Miami, on a two-week tour of the Caribbean. The Captain allowed me to stay aboard until we reached the states, free of charge but with some conditions. First, he made it very clear that I wasn’t getting a free ride and that if I wanted to stay on the ship I needed to contribute. So he made me get a job. I actually took two. The first one was as a waitress in one of the ship’s three restaurants---I took a job in a place called the Watchtower Bar and Grill. If you’ve never worked as a waitress I advise you to never try.

My second job was much easier and a lot more educational. Dr C. took me on as her assistant. She told me there wasn’t much to do on cruise ships as far as medical emergencies go so she spent her time teaching me field medicine. She actually called it triage. But it was nothing more than basic first aid. She taught me the ABC’s; Airway, Breathing and Circulation. She also taught me how to tend to wounds, patch them up, do some stitch work. She wouldn’t let me touch any of the medical equipment, but she showed me how to take blood pressure, how to put in an IV and how to draw blood. She was convinced that I’d make a wonderful doctor some day. I laughed and told her I wanted to teach like my mother.

We spent a lot of time together and grew pretty close. At first, I was a little standoffish with her, but I began to open up more. I didn’t do well with new people. I wasn’t shy but I wasn’t outgoing either. I think Dr. C. ---or Gloria as she told me to call her---noticed my earlier apprehension. It wasn’t the only thing she noticed either. I’m not sure when she found out but she dropped the bomb on me two nights before we docked in Miami.

We were restocking the shelves, right before the Clinic was about to close up for the night. I was dressed in a pair of shorts---one she bought for me---and a white lab coat---she insisted I wear it. I was trying to put something on a high shelf. When I closed the cabinet and turned around, she ambushed me.

“We’ve known each other for about two weeks now, Bonnie?”

I nodded. “More or less.”

“Then why don’t you drop the act and tell me who you really are?”

She took me by surprise with that one. I stuttered a bit, not sure how to react. So I started to cry. I was doing that a lot lately. She came over and gave me a hug. She held me for a while, allowing me to cry it all out. When I was done crying, I asked her how she knew. She told me it was little things. She was in the army for a bit---she was a combat surgeon. She was stationed for a bit in Texas before being shipped to Iraq. She knew the accent and knew that mine was too much.

I cried some more. Then I told her everything. I told her my real name and explained about my condition. When I got to my parents and how they were killed, she stopped me. She wanted to tell the Captain, but I talked her out of it. I didn’t want anyone to know I was still alive. I know it was crazy but I’ve had some time to think and I find it strange that my mother was a Queen and thugs happened to come upon our boat. Then this ship was a Queen ship and similar thugs attacked it as well. I was now convinced someone had specifically targeted us that day. I don’t know why but I didn’t want anyone to know that Jonas Oliver was still alive.

She reluctantly agreed.

“I want to give you a full physical though, including an ultrasound,” she said, taking on a serious tone.

When I asked why she didn’t answer and instead ordered me to strip. I did as I was told, stripping down to my new bra and panties---she bought those as well. She didn’t make me put on a gown but she made me sit on her little table. She started with the physical first; she even took some blood. Then she did the ultrasound. That gel stuff was cold and made me flinch. I was scheduled for one at home but they were waiting until I got back from Florida. When I thought about it brought me to tears a bit.

The ultrasound didn’t take long but the blood work was going to be a while. Apparently, they had no way to test it aboard the ship. She was going to have to take care of it when we reached Florida. The ultrasound tests came back with some interesting results. Apparently, I did in fact have ovaries---I think Dr. P thought I might---but I didn’t have a uterus. This meant I wasn’t as female as they originally thought. The ovaries were producing estrogen just like they should have been and I was maturing into a very healthy young woman. Gloria was afraid that I might be ovulating as well but her ultrasound proved that not to be the case.

She had me re-dress then gave me a big hug.

She asked me a lot of questions after that. She wanted to know about my life, my real life. So I told her about Mia and Roy. I told her about the dance and Sandra. I told her about my diving and accidentally let it slip about my archery. She didn’t react to that. She did wink slightly but it was only for a second. She hugged me when I told her how a lot of the guys in school thought I was a girl and kept asking me out. Then she got brutally honest with me.

“It’s only going to get worse you know.”

I nodded. “That’s why when we started the vacation my mother and my doctors convinced me to dress and pretend to be a girl for the trip. They said it would help me see things from a different perspective.”

She nodded. “Has it helped?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer the question so I told her the truth. I told her about how I hated it when people called me a girl and asked me out. I hated all the flattery and stupid pick up lines. As far as I was concerned, I was a guy and I liked being one. Then my parents died and my world changed. The island changed me. I wasn’t sure when it happened but I suddenly realized I could look any way I wanted but it was what was inside that counted. Being a guy was like fighting an uphill battle. It wasn’t that I really wanted to be a girl but it seemed nature wanted me to be one.

“You can fix it” she said “There are surgeries. Your ovaries and breasts can be removed. They can give you testosterone and make you a man. You can be a boy if you want to be.”

‘I’m not sure I want to be a boy anymore.”

The scary thing was; it was the truth. It happened slowly at first but as the days went by and my body changed more I stopped seeing Jonas and only saw Olivia. She was gorgeous, she had a great body and she liked herself. I was unhappy before and I didn’t even know it. I liked Sandra a lot but I didn’t lust after her like Roy might. She was a friend, a very good friend. Mia was a friend too. We were like sisters, girlfriends, BFF’s. I even had one of those stupid friendship bracelets---she gave it to me in fourth grade. I’m not sure when I realized it but I was never truly a boy, I was a girl but I was good at hiding it.

I told all that to Gloria and she said she understood.

The rest of the trip I spent buried in work. By the time, we reached Miami I had done more than enough work to pay for my passage. In fact, I did a little more than that and the Captain actually gave me a paycheck---it was only a couple hundred bucks but it was still cool.

When we finally docked at Miami, Gloria had a surprise. She was able to convince the Captain to give her some shore leave so she could help me out. I was extremely grateful. We had only two bags when we left the marina and hailed a cab. I gave the driver directions to my parents’ beach house, hoping that it wasn’t too late to retrieve some of my stuff.

>-------------------------------------------------->

The house wasn’t directly on the beach but it wasn’t far off. Both the driver and Gloria whistled when we pulled up. My mother was a Queen after all so she never did anything half way. The house was ginormous. It had six bedrooms, three bathrooms, and an unattached garage with studio apartment and a large in-ground pool with boathouse. We had a private beach too with a long dock that led out to it. It’s usually where our sailboat stayed.

Gloria paid the driver. I led her up the drive. The house was dark and the rental car was no longer in the driveway. So clearly, someone had been there. The front door didn’t require a key; everything was done electronically. I punched in my code, hoping that it still worked. I sighed when there was a click and the door opened. It was dark inside and kind of musky. I nearly tripped over a box that was in the middle of the foyer. When I found the switch and flicked it, nothing happened. I sighed. I was afraid something like this might happen. Even though we co-owned the house with the Deardens, they rarely used it.
Most of the furniture was still there but it was covered with white sheets. There were boxes all over the place, all of them sealed up and marked with Queen Industries logos. Apparently, my grandfather had sent people here. Did that mean that the world thought I was dead? I walked through the house like a boy---girl? ---with a purpose. I checked the faucet in the kitchen but the water was shut off. I checked the cupboards and fridge but they were empty. Gloria followed me, staying close on my heels. Though the lights were off in the place there were large windows everywhere and it was midday so the sun shone inside.

I took her to the second floor and checked all the rooms. My room was the last one at the end of the hall, right next to Mia’s. When I opened the door, I saw my stuff in boxes too. It kind of hit me hard and I dropped to my knees, sobbing. Gloria helped me up and over to the bed. I cried in her arms. I couldn’t believe my grandfather. He wanted nothing to do with my mother when she was alive but now that she was dead, he was everywhere.
When I stopped crying a few minutes later, I tore into the nearest box.

“What are you looking for?”

“Anything.”

But the box was mainly clothes, ones that would never fit anymore. There were two other boxes in the room but I knew what was in those. This room had been decorated the way I liked…when I was ten. I never bothered to redecorate because we weren’t here all that much. Most of the stuff in the other boxes belonged to a ten-year-old boy. Anything modern that had belonged to fourteen year old me was at the bottom of the Atlantic now.

There was one thing that I might want but it wasn’t here.

I left my room in a rush and went down the hall to my parents’ room. It was kind of sad to open the door and see an empty bed. There were a lot of boxes in here, my parents were always updating and modernizing. Gloria asked what I was looking for so I told her to be on the lookout for a little black bag. WE tore open several of the boxes, one after another. Most of them had clothes but there were some electronics and things like. After about twenty minutes, I found the bag.

“I’ve got it,” I said, waving it in the air. I opened it up to make sure everything was still there. I smiled. The bag was my father’s emergency kit: it contained a couple hundred dollars, a prepaid cell phone, a credit card, and copies of all our IDS, a spare key for his car, my mother’s car, the boat, the house in Star City and the penthouse they kept in NYC. My parents weren’t loaded but they had more than most. It was the money and the credit card that I was after but I took the whole bag. I took something else too, a framed picture of the three of us. It was the most recent one we had; it was taken last year at Christmas. My parents liked to take a Christmas photo every year.

I added my money to the money in the bag then we left the house. I activated the prepaid phone and made two phone calls. One was to a cab company and the other was to a nearby motel. We usually didn’t stay in motels but I wanted to keep a low profile. If someone really did kill my parents then they’d be able to track a credit card without a problem.

When the cab pulled up I tried to convince Gloria to part ways with me, but she wouldn’t.

“We’re in this together until you get back home.”

But where was home now? Could I actually go back to our house? I tried to imagine how it would be, just me, all alone in that big empty house. A tear rolled down my cheek. Maybe I could move in with Mia. I practically lived there most of the time anyway. We were like sisters anyway so maybe her family would adopt me.

I thought of Mia as we got into the cab. I pulled out the phone again and gave her a call. I cursed when I realized the time difference. The call went right to voice mail. I groaned; I didn’t want to leave her a message and explain things that way. I could imagine how that would go: “Hey Speedy, it’s me, Jonas, your supposedly dead best friend. Guess what I’m not dead and am currently in Miami. I just thought I’d call and see what you were doing this Friday. Maybe we could go to the mall and hang out”. Yeah, I don’t think that would have gone over well. So I decided to text her but something was wrong because as soon as I hit send, another message came back immediately: PHONE NO LONGER IN SERVICE. What the hell was that all about? Mia’s iPhone was her lifeline, she’d never shut it off. Maybe I texted the wrong number so I texted her again. I got the same message. I groaned angrily and threw the phone on the seat.

The cabbie laughed. “Teenage girls and those damn phones. I have a niece and all she does is text like crazy.”

Gloria smiled, squeezing my shoulder. ‘My niece here is the same way. Isn’t that right, Bonnie?”

Great now she’s using Bonnie.

I smiled. “It's my life, auntie.”

We pulled up to a little motel called The Sunset Inn. I paid the driver this time, giving him a big tip for coming so quickly. He was grateful as he helped us with our bags and drove away. I left getting the rooms up to Gloria, giving her my father’s credit card. I knew I shouldn’t have used it but I needed all the cash to get me back to San Fran. Besides paying in cash probably would draw too much attention, it usually did in the movies.

The room had two beds; I took the one near the window. I wanted to crash as soon as we got there but Gloria was convinced we needed some kind of plan. I flopped on the bed while she talked and only half listened. I heard her mention something about getting some plane tickets tomorrow. I didn’t realize how tired I was until sleep overtook me.

Chapter Eight:

I woke to a gentle knock on the door. It was a light rapping, barely audible but it was enough to wake me from my dreamless slumber. I opened my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept that well. I slept pretty good in the jungle but there were several nights where I was plagued by horrible nightmares. I kept seeing my parents die over and over again. In all of them, I tried to help them but it was like I was frozen or something. Some of the dreams I was actively there and in others, I was watching it like it was a movie. I think last night was the first night that I fell asleep and didn’t have a single one.

I sat up and stretched. Gloria was still sleeping, her covers half off, her body clad in only underwear. I sighed, looking at her almost naked body. If I had been a normal guy that would have been the biggest turn on. But it did nothing for me. In fact, I thought about her bra and wondered if I could ever where anything that sexy. I groaned, realizing I was turning more into a girl every day. It was a bit scary but it was kind of refreshing too. I was tired of pretending to be one thing or the other.

The knocking on the door got a little more persistent.

I got out of bed and found my pants. They were a pair of jeans that Gloria bought me on the ship’s promenade. There were a lot of little shops there. It surprised me at first because I thought the whole idea of going on a cruise was to get away from all that. But apparently, the people of Queen Star Cruises didn’t see it that way. Their slogan was: All the Luxuries of Home at Sea. I hated to burst their bubble but the ship was ten times more luxurious than anything I ever did at home. I mean who has a miniature golf course, bowling alley and arcade in their homes.

I pulled on my pants. I liked to sleep in my underwear for a long time. At home, it was boxers but now it was my panties. I was a little weirded out by that at first but I was kind of used to it now. My thing was so small now that it barely showed and my hips were so big that you barely noticed there was anything down there. They were quite comfortable too, ten times more so than boxers. I was never a fan of everything hanging about. I liked things snug and in place.
I padded across the room in my bare feet and opened the door.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. There were two big men in black suits standing there. They were giants, at least seven feet. One was blonde; the other was bald. Both of them wore dark sunglasses and had bulges in their jackets. I knew what that meant. I was frozen with fear looking at them. They had to be from the guy who tried to kill me and ruin my grandfather. I wanted to close the door but for some reason I couldn’t move my hand to do so.

“Good morning Miss,” said the blonde, smiling politely. “We’re looking for Jonas Oliver.”

I recovered after that. I slammed the door in his face. I screamed for Gloria. She screamed too, snapping awake and jumping nearly off her bed. It was quite a sight, seeing her all tangled up in the sheets. She looked confused at first but as soon as she saw my panic, she knew something bad had happened. I didn’t explain as I ran over to my bed, looking for my sneakers. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night after falling asleep and stripped off my clothes. I was a little groggy when I did so I wasn’t sure where everything was. I found both of my sneakers under the bed.

The knocking on the door was louder. Gloria fumbled with pulling up her pants, still confused as to what was really going on.

“You mind filling me in?” she asked as she buttoned her pants.

“Two goons at the door” I said as I laced up my sneaks. “They’re looking for Jonas Oliver”

“How do they know you’re here?”

I cursed myself. There were two ways to know. The first one was the obvious; it was the credit card. I knew it was a bad idea to use it. But I really needed the cash. The second one was less obvious but just as stupid. It happened at the house when I used my code. I forgot that all the door codes were registered every time they were used. Every entry was filed with the security company and logged in their computers. Each one of us had specific codes. Whoever was at the door was probably monitoring the security company. I never should have gone back to the stupid beach house.

As soon as we got dressed, we tried to open the window in the bathroom. WE got it open enough for me but not enough for her. She was a little bigger up top than me and she’d never fit. She realized that and tried to talk me into leaving her but I wasn’t going to do that.

“They’re not looking for me” she insisted. ‘If they’re really after you than you have a chance to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

She rushed back into the main room and came back with my bag. We didn’t buy a suitcase for me because we didn’t get me a lot of clothes, just the essentials. My bag was actually a purple backpack, inside was the stuff we bought on the ship, plus the black bag I took from the beach house. She pushed it into my chest.

“They’re no longer pounding but they’re still out there. You need to go now. I’ll open the door and distract them. I’ll try to buy you enough time.”
“I can’t leave you, they killed my parents.”

I started crying which got her to cry a bit. She took me in a hug and held me tight. We stayed like that for a few minutes. When the hug was over, she kissed my forehead then smacked me on the butt, urging me to go. I clipped onto the bathtub rim and reluctantly climbed out the window. I hated to abandon Gloria but she was pretty damn insistent about it. When I hit the ground, I started to run. Tears were streaming down my face. How was I going to do this without help?

I ran around the side of the building. The motel had two buildings that were almost identical. The main office was in the first building and we were in the second. I was currently between the two, peering around the corner at the two goons. They were at the door to our room. Gloria was there, talking to them. I couldn’t hear what she was saying but the two goons looked kind of flustered. I looked around, trying to find their car. It was easy enough to find, it was the only black sedan in the lot. While Gloria was keeping them distracted, I ran over to their car.

I skidded to a halt on the other side of it, dragging myself through glass. Some moron broke a mirror or something; there was glass everywhere. I cut up my hands and my knees but the cuts were small. The glass did give me an idea though. I grabbed the largest shard I could find and slit the tires on the driver’s side. I was amazed how easily that worked. I’d seen it done in movies but I never thought I could do it with a shard of glass. That’s some pretty cheap rubber.

I popped my head and looked at the room. Gloria saw me and motioned to go with her eyes. I smiled sadly and waved. She winked and I took off, running down the street and hopefully out of sight. The motel was sort of in the middle of nowhere, on a stretch of highway that could have led anywhere. My best bet was to go into the nearest town. So I stuck my thumb out, it didn’t take long to get a ride. It was a nice couple in a mini-van with three kids who finally stopped. I gave them some story about my car breaking down and they bought it.

>-------------------------------------------------->

The Dover’s---the family who picked me up---insisted I stay and have lunch with them. They were on some kind of family vacation but decided to drive instead of fly. They lived in upstate New York, in some little town north of Buffalo. They took trips like this all the time. They were nice enough and they didn’t seem too nosey. The little girl, Marcia, seemed to take a shine to me though. She kept asking me a hundred questions; I made up a lot of answers. I don’t think she minded. She and her brother, Stanley, were both six. Whereas she was really outgoing, Stanley was real quiet, especially around me. Every once and a while I caught him talking to someone. When I asked him who he was talking too, he didn’t answer but his sister did.

“It’s Spot,” said Marcia with a laugh. “His stupid imaginary friend.”

“Marcia, what did I tell you” snapped their mother, Sheila.

Stanley spoke for the first time. “He’s not stupid and he’s not imaginary.”

I smiled. I remembered being his age and having an imaginary friend too. But I didn’t make mine up; it was Robin Hood. I know that it sounds corny but I was obsessed.

“What kind of friend is Spot?” I asked; ignoring the raspberry Marcia gave her brother.

Stanley’s face lit up; glad someone was interested. “He’s a giant purple monster. He’s big and furry and has huge tusks. But he’s not mean; he’s real nice and has lots of friends. There’s a leprechaun named Shaughnessy and a gremlin named Schnitzel.”

Stanley spent the rest of the car ride telling me about Spot and his friends. He had a really wild imagination. Marcia got annoyed at one point and started trying to tell me all about her stuffed unicorn collection back home. Their two voices started to overlap until it got so loud that it was hard to hear yourself think. Their father, Mitch, finally put an end to it, but not soon enough. It was cute though that the kid could imagine that well, I wasn’t even that complex at his age.

We stopped for lunch at a mall. It wasn’t as large as the ones back home but it was good size. We ate in Burger King. We had to take two booths. Apparently Spot, who Stanley said had stayed in the van, arrived sometime in the middle of our meal. Stanley had to sit him at his own booth because he was too big to sit with us. Marcia huffed, his parents rolled their eyes, but I thought it was pretty cute. Every few minutes during our meal, Stanley would laugh and start talking to the empty booth. His father tried to tell him to stop being so foolish which kind of annoyed me. I hated people who tried to squash a child’s imagination like that.

After lunch, the Dovers said they had to be shoving off. I gave each of the kids a hug and thanked their parents for a ride. I offered to pay them for their troubles but they wouldn’t take it. Something strange happened as they were leaving. I was still sitting at the booth, watching them go. Stanley was holding his hand up in the air, like he was holding someone’s hand. For a split second, something so small that you could blink and miss it, I saw something. I’m not sure what it was but it was big, purple and hairy. I rubbed my eyes and the family was gone.

Now I’m starting to imagine things.

I finished my lunch and paid quickly. I wandered the mall a bit after that, not sure, where I was going or what I was going to do. I know I needed to get back to San Fran but flying was probably out of the question. So I stopped at an information kiosk and asked the girl at the desk if she had a bus schedule. She handed me one, telling me they ran every few hours or so. I found one that was leaving town but it was still about an hour off. I decided to do a little shopping.

I found myself in a clothing store first. I’m not sure what I was doing in there but it didn’t take long for the salesgirl to descend on me. She tried to talk me into buying this and that but the only thing she was doing was being annoying. But I was polite about it. I did find something that interested me though. I found this real cool green hoodie. It decided to buy it a size too big, so I could hide my face if need be. The salesgirl was polite when I bought it but I could tell she wasn’t happy. She was trying to score up a huge commission and I destroyed that for her.

I left there and found myself in a costume shop; everything was now half off. Halloween happened while I was on the ship. They celebrated it, but I didn’t attend. I ended up working it, though. There were decorations and a huge bash. People came dressed in costume and the kids got candy. Most of the trauma from the pirates had been long gone by then. The Halloween bash ended the trip, a day later we arrived at Miami.

In the shop, I browsed all their stuff. I found this cool Robin Hood felt hat with a feather and everything. I put it on and modeled it in front of the many mirrors. It looked pretty cool but it wasn’t really for me. Maybe in another lifetime. I did find something l liked. It was this real cool black mask, like Zorro’s. It was kind of neat because it made me feel like a bandit. I bought it and found I still had about twenty minutes to spare. I wandered down the mall, finally stopping at a Sporting Goods store. I thought of my broken bow and a small emptiness welled inside of me.

I went right to the bows; they had a wide selection from fiberglass to carbon. I liked fiberglass, I used to use a Matthews Ignition at home, it had about a forty-pound pull weight on it. It was a damn good bow but I didn’t see anything like that here. I did find a nice Conquest 4; it had a fifty-pound draw weight and integral grip, which I loved. It was a little pricey but it would have to do for now. I found some good arrows, Easton X10s, like they used in Beijing in 08. I got myself a case too; all of it came to close to a thousand bucks. But I needed a bow, I’m not sure why but now I felt naked without one. I paid with the credit card; it had a real large limit on it.

“You sure you know what you’re doing with that missy” said the jerk at the counter. “That’s a mighty dangerous piece of equipment you got there.”

I scoffed. “I’ve been handling a bow since I was eight, I think I can manage.”

The alarm went off as I was leaving the store. At first, I thought there was something I hadn’t paid for. Then I heard the scream. The alarm wasn’t coming from the sporting goods store; it was coming from somewhere else in the mall. I tried to ignore it until I saw three masked jerks running by, followed by an overweight security guard. Damn why does this always happen to me.

I ran into the ladies room locked the door behind me. I looked into the mirror and sighed. It looked like Miss Arrowette was going to make another appearance.

>-------------------------------------------------->

I dressed quickly, pulling the green hoodie over my head and fixing the mask to my face. I wasn’t so sure about the mask but after that close encounter with Lane last time, I think it was needed. She almost put two and two together and that was dangerous. I couldn’t let anyone figure out who I was. Even if Jonas Oliver technically didn’t exist anymore, I still did. Someone clearly knew there was a connection between my new self and my old one. Maybe I should come up with a different name and not just one for my true self too.

As I looked in the mirror and saw the masked, hooded figure, I couldn’t see Miss Arrowette anywhere. I decided not to use the green tarp because I wanted to distance myself from what happened on the cruise ship. You need to be someone new, someone different. I racked my brain for a few seconds but when nothing came readily, I sighed. I guess I’ve got a lot of time to decide. That is if I still wanted to do this when I was done here. I mean I was convinced the ship was the first and last time but I couldn’t just let those bastards get away.

I hefted my bow and slipped out of the bathroom. The mall was in utter chaos. The lights were dimmed; it looked like someone was messing with the power. People were screaming and running amok. I slipped into the throng of people, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I made my way for the stairs and went up to the second level. When I got there, I saw some commotion going on up ahead and shots were fired. There was more screaming and a lot of the running people became immobile, dropping to the ground to avoid being shot.

I ran along the upper walkway, trying to get closer to the action. God, I need some kind of grappling hook. It made me wonder for a few seconds but I pushed the thought to the back of my mine, there would be time for that later. Right now, I had a bunch of crazed, armed robbers to take care of.

There were six of them, three more than I saw run by me earlier.

They were holed up in a pharmacy, with at least eight hostages. Apparently, they were outmaneuvered by mall security. They were also outgunned. There were at least eight security guards. Four were behind the fountain in the center of the mall; one was taking cover at a kiosk. Two more were standing behind the mall’s large stone pillars. All of them had their guns drawn, pointing at the pharmacy. Inside two of the robbers were standing by the door, one was looting the cash register and the other two were guarding the hostages.

I had a clear shot at all six and the advantage: they couldn’t see me.

I nocked my first arrow. The X10s wouldn’t have been my first choice but they were all I had at the moment. I pulled back the bow, a little uncomfortable because it was a little heavier than I was used too. I compensated by shifting my weight and then fired. It was a clumsy shot but I hit my target. I winged one of the guys at the door. I put the arrow in his shoulder; he screamed out and dropped. His gun clattered to the floor. I nocked another arrow and hit the second guy at the door before anyone knew what was happening.

It was one of the security guards who noticed me. “You on the second floor, cease firing now!”

I didn’t pay any attention. Instead, I nocked a third arrow and took aim at the guy behind the counter. I knew I should have taken out the guys near the hostages but I had t be careful. If I took one of them out, I’d risk a firestorm. So I put the arrow in the guy’s shoulder, then quickly nocked a fourth. I caused a great deal of panic inside the pharmacy. Two of the guys guarding the hostages ran for the door, looking about to see if they could spot me. I also caused quite a commotion amongst the security guards.

The two guards at the posts left. I knew where they were going.

I fired my fourth arrow, hitting one of the robbers in the upper thigh. My fifth arrow dropped the other guy at the door, another shoulder shot. None of them were life threatening but they were pretty painful. The last guy in the pharmacy looked frantically at his fallen comrades, all of them writhing on the ground, arrows sticking out of them at wicked angles. I drew a sixth arrow but didn’t need it. He dropped his gun, got down on his knees and put his hands behind his back. The remaining security on the ground floor swept into the shop and apprehended him.

‘You in the green!” shouted a voice to my left. “Stay where you are.”

I turned and saw a security guard walking slowly toward me, his gun drawn. On the other side of me was another guard, the two of them were trying to box me in. You’ve got to be kidding me; I just foiled a hostage situation.

‘You guys jealous?” I asked as I lowered my bow.

The one to my right spoke into his walkie-talkie: “We’ve got the shooter”

“Drop your weapon, get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head,” said the one on the left, as he got closer.

They were serious. They were really going to try to take me in. I just helped them and they were repaying it by trying to arrest me. This was fricking ridiculous. I groaned and started to set the bow on the floor. The two guards were almost on top of me when the sirens appeared. It distracted them for a second and that’s all I needed. I grabbed my bow, smacked the nearest guard in the chest and took off running. The other guard was so stunned that it took him a few seconds to give chase. But by then I was half way down the stairs. I slipped into the crowd of people, trying to blend in.

The guard tried to push his way in but there were too many people now, trying to flock to the exit. I tossed the bow in the trash---which was a damn shame because I paid a fortune for it. I tossed the arrows in too, making sure I wiped everything of all my prints. I kept the black mask and hoodie but I pulled them both off as I moved with the crowd, slowly being pushed toward the double doors. I passed right by a couple of the guards but they didn’t bat an eyelash. Outside there were four cop cars and more on the way by the sound of it.

The police officers present wouldn’t let anyone leave, though.

Ten cop cars and three news vans filled the parking lot in the course of fifteen minutes. The reporters hit the crowd like vultures even though the police tried to hold them back. I tried to keep my head down, avoiding the media as much as possible. The police put up crime tape then moved us all into another part of the mall. It was quite a feat seeing, as there were hundreds of people. We ended up in the food court. On the big screen monitors hanging from the ceiling we all got to see the rest of the action outside. One by one, the robbers were led out of the building.

The murmuring about my deed started to make its way around the crowd. It didn’t take long for someone to mention Miss Arrowette. I groaned, I really needed to get them to change that name. After that, things really picked up. People kept asking one another if they saw me and of course, a lot of them said, they did. I became the big topic of discussion. They talked about me for a half an hour before the police came in, taking statements from everyone. When they got to me, I told them I saw someone dressed in green with a bow but didn’t see anything else. It seemed to be the same thing that a lot of other people were saying too.

They wouldn’t let us go until they got statements from everyone. That was about two hours later. The reporters descended by then. A lot people wanted to be in the papers or on the news. I wasn’t one of them. I kept my head low as I slipped through the crowds. I almost ran into Lois Lane. She was interviewing a group of giggling college girls. She didn’t look too happy because all they wanted to talk about was how scared they were. Luckily, her back was to me so she didn’t see me.

I hailed a cab. I asked it to take me to the nearest bus depot. I was tired of this town and I definitely didn’t want people to put two and two together. When I got to the depot I bought a ticket for the furthest place, I could find which happened to be St. Louis. I paid in cash this time; I didn’t want any more goons showing up uninvited. My bus wasn’t set to leave for at least another hour so I found a little coffee shop. There were only a few people inside: a few guys at the counter, a couple of guys sitting together and a man in the corner, his face obscured by a newspaper.

It didn’t take long for the mall incident to appear on the news. There was a little flat screen monitored from the ceiling. It was set to the local news and the headline said it all: MISS ARROWETTE STRIKES AGAIN. I groaned. As soon as I got the time, I was going to call in and tell them to call me something else. Miss Arrowette made me sound like a damn circus performer or something.

The Silver haired newscaster told the story: “People in Grandview Mall today got the shock of their lives when six armed assailants robbed multiple stores and made a mad dash to the exit. They were chased into a pharmacy by mall security and took eight hostages. But the robbers were in for a surprise themselves: a hooded, green clad archer”

The screen switched to a female reporter, interviewing several “eyewitnesses” who claimed to have seen the archer take out the robbers one by one. Each account was more outlandish than the next; one person even said I used different kinds of arrows. It was a crazy idea but it did have interesting possibilities. The female reporter interviewed several people before it switched back to the silver haired anchor in the newsroom.

“Some of you may remember that only a few short weeks ago, another similar green clad archer rescued a bunch of people on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Though many eyewitnesses claim they might be the same people, sources tell us that this young William Tell was dressed differently and used a different kind of bow. Are these two persons the same or do we have ourselves a copycat archer out there, time will only tell. This is Bud Henderson, Channel Six”

I groaned. I was glad it was such a short story but it already speculated on too much. I’m not sure if I wanted any of it. I only did what I had to do on the ship and as far as the robbery today, I felt compelled to help. Maybe I had a death wish but it kind of felt good to help those people. It also fit in with my pact: I couldn’t let people suffer around me. Did that make me some kind of vigilante superhero now?

Someone cleared their throat next to me: “A young woman like you shouldn’t be sitting here all alone, mind if I join you?”

I groaned again. But who was I to disagree at the moment. So I sighed and nodded. The man who sat down across from me was the one hidden behind the paper in the corner. He wore a crisp gray suit, black tie and was old enough to be my grandfather. He smiled at me and it took me a few seconds to realize that I recognized his face. It was all over the place but predominantly in all the old pictures that my mother used to show me.

He looked old enough to be my grandfather because he was.

“Hello, Jonas” he said with a curt nod and sipped his tea. “Or is it Bonnie now?”

All I could say were two words: “Holy Hannah!”

-----

Author's Note: Two chapters again, a bit longer than the others. This origin story is starting to dwindle to the end, there will be at least one more post after this. I'd like to thank djkauf for the fantastic editing. Green Arrow is a copyright and trademark of DC Comics.

-----

Chapter Nine:

We both sat in his limousine in silence, neither of saying a word. He was sitting across from me, sipping another cup of tea. He liked his tea; it was at least his third cup since leaving the diner. Me, all I could do was sit and glare. Jameson Queen the Third was a man used to getting what he wanted. Me, I used to be a man who took what he was given and gave nothing to anyone. Not that I didn’t want to give but there was nothing to hand out. I may have mentioned that my parents were well off but they had peanuts as far as my grandfather was concerned. The last I knew his net worth was close to ten billion, which was absolutely insane.

Also insane was his behavior. He ambushed me in the diner. Now here I was, an hour later, in his limo and on the way to the airport. I tried to protest but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was like that from the moment he sat down and surprised me...

>-------------------------------------------------->

“You look just like your mother,” he said as he took another sip of his tea.

I nodded, numbed by all this.

The man sitting across from me wasn’t numb at all; in fact, he was pretty calm. He was a smooth operator, at least that’s what the tabloids seemed to think. My grandfather was a favorite of theirs. In his youth, he was an equivalent to Hugh Hefner. He used to like to wine and dine the ladies; he threw the wildest of parties and had all the best things money could buy. I think he dwindled down when he met my grandmother and they had my mother. But I could still see that spark hidden in the steely blue eyes of the man sitting across from me.

My grandfather looked good for a man well past his prime. His white hair was slicked back; his skin was nicely tanned and well moisturized. He didn’t look a day over sixty---but that’s what money could buy. In truth, he was pushing eighty, at least. He liked to flaunt his success, made apparent by the foreign suit that was probably worth more money than I’d seen in my lifetime. But he was so nonchalant about it too. He just sat there and sipped his tea, like it was the most common thing in the world to do. Me, I was pissed. This man was never there for me when my parents were alive and now he was quite the force to be reckoned with since their death. I’m not sure how he found me but I’m sure he had his resources.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

I decided I was going to be angry with him several years ago. I crossed my arms and glared, after regaining myself. “Don’t you?”
He smiled. It was a small one but it was there. “I tried to reach out to you, several times, but your mother wouldn’t allow it. You did get my gifts, didn’t you?” I got all of them and had to admit I loved them all too. In fact, I still mourned for my watch.
But I was still mad at him. “I got them.”

He nodded. Then he started with the questioning. I found it kind of strange that he’d be grilling me in a little bus depot diner**** but he didn’t care. Me, I was nervous I’d miss my bus. But I answered his questions to the best of my ability. Most of them were about what happened, so I told him the whole story---minus the whole saving the ship thing. If he was an emotional man, he didn’t show it because he didn’t even tear up when I told him about those bastards stabbing his daughter to death. I got kind of vague when I talked about the ship because I didn’t want him to know about my escapades. If he figured it out he didn’t say.

When I finished he sipped some more tea.

“You’re quite resourceful; I expected nothing less from a Queen”

“I’m an Oliver, not a Queen,” I said heatedly.

He smiled thinly. “Jonas Oliver is dead. You have to except that and move on”

I was furious. I’d only known this man for a few minutes and already he was dictating my life. No wonder my mother didn’t want me to have anything to do with him. It pissed me off that this bastard thought he could tell me things like that. I was Jonas Oliver, it didn’t matter what I looked like now but I was always going to be Jonas Oliver.

“I’m not changing my name,” I snapped.

‘No one is telling you too. But you must understand the circumstance you’re in. The name Oliver is no longer safe for you.”

What the hell did he mean by that? “And the name Queen is?”

The old man sighed; suddenly he looked his age. Whatever false front he was putting up disappeared for a split second. I thought maybe I could get to know that vulnerable guy; he even looked a bit like a grandfather. But all too soon, it was gone and the stone cold bastard was back. We didn’t say anything to each other for a while. He finished his tea and ordered another. I kept looking at the wall clock because it was getting dangerously close to my departure time. The old man watched me with his eyes but his head never moved an inch, it was kind of creepy.

Finally, my time to leave came and boy was I ready to go. I stood up, grabbed my bag and reached into my pocket to take out some money to pay for my meal.
“Sit down” it was both an order and an urging.

“I’m going to miss my bus,” I said, refusing to sit.

“You’re not going on the bus,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I played along. “If not the bus then where am I going?”

“Nowhere at the moment. But as soon as I finish my tea, you and I are going to leave this diner, walk across the street and get in my limo. Then we’re going to the airport and flying back to San Francisco together.”

“And if I refuse?”

He nodded slightly behind him. It was a simple thing but it had such a deeper meaning. It was a summons and two large men materialized out of the shadows, I didn’t even know they were there. But I recognized them immediately: they were the two goons from the motel. They walked over and stood on either side of the old man. They both looked at me, neither said a word but I could tell they were kind of pissed. I’d be too if some dumb kid slit my tires.

I was a bit taken back by them. If they had been my grandfather’s men all along then why hadn’t they said anything?

“These are your goons?”

The old man nodded. “They are indeed. You would have found that out this morning if you hadn’t so rudely slammed the door in their faces”

‘That’s your fault, not mine and you know it. Who the hell sends enforcers to pick up their grandchild?’

The old man didn’t bat an eye. “How was I to know you were in fact my grandson?”

He had me there. I most certainly didn’t look like anyone’s grandson. But it still didn’t mean he had the right to send goons after me. Anyone would have reacted the same way I did, given the circumstance.

“So I take it these two are here to get me into your car?”

The old man smiled. “Precisely”.

His two goons came around the table faster than I could. They grabbed my shoulders and clamped down tightly. I was in no position to fight back. The old man finished his tea, paid for both our meals and then allowed his goons to escort me out of the diner.

>-------------------------------------------------->

I could still feel their grubby hands on my shoulders.

It turns out the two goons, Spencer and Locke, were actually my grandfather’s bodyguard and chauffeur. They didn’t talk much but what they lacked in social skill they more than made up for in roughness. They literally dragged me out of the diner, through the bus depot and out to the waiting limo. I struggled and fought the whole time. The depot security actually came to my aid until my grandfather talked to him. I didn’t hear what he said but the man actually smiled at me and went about his business. I didn’t have good luck with any kind of security.

Now the two goons were in the front, Locke driving, Spencer riding shotgun. My grandfather was just sitting there, sipping his damn tea and finishing his newspaper. I wasn’t on the cover but there was another Metahuman gracing the front papers. Apparently, it was a followup to a story the paper broke on Halloween. The headline was large and in bold, block letters: TERRA HELPS SAVE JAPAN. She was the new one. I’m not sure where they were coming from but it was kind of cool. The paper didn’t say much about her but I read the other story that ran a few days ago. She actually outed herself to the whole world. She told them who she was and what she could do. It took real guts but it was something I’d never do if I had her abilities.

Can you imagine all the reporters bothering the hell out of her? I’d only had a run in with one and she was enough for anyone.

“There’s been a rash of them springing up here and there,” said my grandfather, apparently reading her mind. “A lot of them don’t want to be found and others are biding their time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Metahumans” said the old man, talking through his newspaper.

“And how do you know this?”

He chuckled. “You don’t get to be one of the most powerful men in the world by sipping tea all day.” He laughed which turned into a long coughing fit.

It was a horrible sounding cough, one that a healthy person didn’t have. After a minute or so, it was over, but it was pretty scary.

“There have been a lot that have popped up since Jade announced their kind to the world,” he continued, speaking as if the coughing never happened. “Most are keeping themselves secret but there are others just waiting to be explored.”

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. The Metahumans were so cool but I’m not sure if I’d want to be one. There was just something about all that power that seemed to bother me. I’m sure there were a lot of good people out, people who wanted to help others. But what about the bad people. There were bound to be bad people who were Metahumans, too. What’s to stop them from running around and ripping people in half? This was a strange and unusual new world I know found myself in. Soon there were going to be Metahumans all over the place and too many people to get hurt. I could just see it now: giant battles, killer robots, a bunch of guys running around in their underwear and unflattering spandex. Where did the normal people fit into the grand scheme of things?

I thought about it a lot as we drove down the road. I couldn’t help but feel sad for the little person. I looked at my grandfather, sitting there, completely oblivious to the world. He lived in it, of course, but he was a big fish. Big fishes ate little ones, ones like me. I’m not sure if I was ever going to like him because of that. Maybe I could pretend to and pretend to be in his world but it was going to be an act. It had to be an act because the moment it stopped being one, it was the moment that Jonas Oliver really was dead.

We arrived at the airport right on time. Not that it mattered; it was my grandfather’s plane. We could leave whenever he willed it too. Spencer and Locke escorted both of us toward a Gulfstream G650, a rather high-class and sleek business jet. It was customized with the Queen logo on the tail of course but it was all Gulfstream. I’d read about them on the Internet, I used to have a thing for building model airplanes. My father had a friend who worked at Gulfstream and he got a lot of plans for me, one of them was for the G650.

Upon entering the plane, I noticed the old man went with the executive look. Everything was earth tones, plush leather and fake wood paneling. There were fifteen seats, two lavatories and a forward galley that served hot meals. Two stewardesses in blue met us at the door, one of them offered to take my bag but I declined. They were all smiles and creepy. One of them, Judy, offered me a drink when I took a seat. I told her to bring me some coke---I was really thirsty. My grandfather sat next to me so I got up and moved to the other end of the plane. Spencer got up to get me but the old man shook it off.
Judy brought me my drink, then disappeared.

‘We will be getting along in a few short minutes, Mr. Queen. If there’s anything you and your young guest need, feel free to ask,” said the pilot over the intercom, his voice was gruff and gravely.

“Thank you, Ben.”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. I had to admit it was kind of cool, the way it reclined. But I shook the happy thought away as quick as it came on. I wasn’t supposed to be enjoying myself; I was supposed to be miserable. These jerks kidnaped me after all.

I tried to fake being comfortable but it wasn’t working. In fact, I think I got too comfortable, because one minute I was trying to not relax and the next someone was shaking me awake. I groaned when I opened my eyes, realizing I had fallen asleep. Judy was hovering nearby, that huge fake smile beaming at me. I nearly jumped out of my feet.

“Miss Queen, you grandfather wishes me to inform you that we have arrived at San Francisco.”

I groaned. What was with this Miss Queen crap? Judy wandered away as I yawned and stretched. I looked toward the window and saw the sun streaming through. It was night in Florida so what the hell time was it in California? I was never good at that whole time zone thing. I couldn’t believe I’d been that tired but I suppose that’s what happens, especially after the day I had. At least I was well rested now.

“How long have I been out?” I asked; it was a general question not directed at anyone.

My grandfather answered. “A couple of hours. We had to make a small stop in Chicago but we made good time.”

Chicago, I’d only been there once, and only at the airport. I went on a business trip with my father and he made a stop there. My father didn’t usually travel out of state on business but every once in a while, he was brought to consult on a project. He brought me along that time because we were going to Myrtle Beach. They were building some kind of condo that my father helped plan. I’m not sure of the basics. I liked Chicago. I’m not sure why a lot of people called it Gotham. I always thought Washington Irving called New York Gotham---smart huh, it pays to be my mother’s child. But it turns out that New York was the Metropolis and Chicago was Gotham.

I was ushered out of the plane quickly enough. My grandfather was on a deadline. He was in a great rush and didn’t have time for “foot draggers”. I can’t help it that I don’t function well in the morning. I think I inherited it from my father.

There was another limo waiting for us. There was also a crowd, most of them reporters. I wasn’t sure what was going on but there were three news vans and lots of cameras flashing. It was so bright I was blinded. They swarmed toward us but luckily, airport security and the police were holding them back. But no one could stop them from shouting questions. They were all doing it at once and most of what they were saying was lost but I did hear a few tidbits.

“Mr. Queen is it true that you found your daughter’s boat?”

“Is it true that she and her family are lost at sea, presumed dead?”

What the hell was all this about? I glared at the old man as Spencer pushed me into the limo then got in himself. I huffed as he shoved me across the seat, practically pushing me into leather. I sat up and slid as far from him as possible. I turned to the window and looked at the vicious reporters as we pulled away. I recognized Lois Lane. God, the woman was all over the place. I’m not sure if she recognized me or not.

“That was a little rough,” scolded my grandfather as he poured himself a cup of tea. “I’m sorry, sir”.

I crossed my arms again, refusing to look at either of them. They were both bastards. I knew what he said last night but I never actually thought he’d go through with it. The morning edition of the New York post was lying on the seat next to the old man, the giant headline read: MISSING QUEEN HEIR NOW PRESUMED DEAD. I’m not sure what pissed me off more: the fact that he pulled this crap without consulting me or the fact that he was so cavalier about it. But it explained why there were so many reporters waiting for us. I’m just not sure, when he had time to cook up something like this. Did he do it on the plane when I was asleep or had he done it sometime before grabbing me at the depot?

“Don’t look at me that way,” he said in response to my evil stare. “You knew this was coming. It was the next appropriate action.”

I huffed. “You could have said you found me adrift at sea or something?” He laughed. Even Spencer cracked a smile. “How would I explain your whereabouts for the last three months?”

I shrugged. I was about to mention telling people about the island but that would have raised too many questions. Besides, there was already a small story about me being found there. It wasn’t front-page news, but it was still a good spread. I actually had both stories saved, the one about the real me on the island and the one where Miss Arrowette made her miraculous debut. I guess I could see where that would be a problem but he could have thought of something else.

I snatched the paper off the seat and read the article. It was all speculative but it was pretty clear that my family and I were dead. There was no mention of the bastards of course. The old man’s PR rep spun some story about the storms that hit us the day before we disappeared. The article made it sound like our boat was capsized. I sighed. So according to the world I was dead, drowned at sea. I suppose there were worse ways to go. But what did that mean about me now? Who was I going to be if I wasn’t Jonas Oliver?

We drove for a while, in silence. I didn’t have anything to say to the man who pretended to be family. We pulled up to the Queen Industries building about an hour later. When I got out of the car, I marveled at how big it really was. I’d only seen it on TV and in the newspapers. When I was younger, after I found out my grandfather was billionaire Jameson Queen, I tried to talk my mother into taking me there. But she adamantly refused. She told me my grandfather was a cruel and hateful man and that he didn’t want to be bothered. I cried for hours. Now I knew she’d been right.

Spencer and Locke put me between them as we walked into the building. They were afraid I’d run away and they were probably right. The first chance I got I was out of here. I just had to figure out how to ditch the goon squad.

The four of us got into a big elevator. This thing could fit a whole football team in it; it was absolutely huge. We were in it for a while too. Queen Towers---the name of the building---was sixty-five stories high. Sixty of the floors were all business; whatever that entailed and the top five was the old man’s penthouse. We didn’t go up that high though. The elevator stopped on the fifty fifth floor where we were ushered into a plush, corporate looking waiting room. The floors were marble, the walls were a mixture of glass and chrome. Everything was shiny and brand new. There was a huge reception desk in front of us, complete with a perky, bubbling blonde. Behind her was the typical giant Q and underneath that was a plaque that said PUBLIC RELATIONS OFFICE.

So we’re going to PR first, that makes sense.

My grandfather led us through a pair of glass doors; he didn’t wait to be buzzed in. I supposed there were some perks to owning the building. The PR office was simple: wooden floors, beige walls. There was a small sectional couch in the corner around a circular table. The focus of the room was a large mahogany table in the center. It looked like a conference room more than anything. There was a single woman sitting at the head of the table, a stack of manila folders in front of her. She was middle aged, dressed conservatively. Her graying black hair pulled on top of her head in a functional bun. She looked like a severe bitch but she smiled when she saw us.

“Oh she’s a peach,” said the woman as she stood up. She looked directly at me. “You’re a spitting image of your mother, darling.”

I smiled awkwardly. Not too many guys liked to be compared to their mother. Then again I’m not a guy anymore---at least not fully---and my mother is a very beautiful woman.

My grandfather introduced her as Scarlet Jefferies, the best Chief of Staff in the world. He didn’t introduce me to her but I think that’s because he didn’t know what to call me. Hell, I didn’t know either. But that’s the reason we were here. We all sat at the table, Miss Jefferies---call me Scarlet---ordered us some breakfast and we got down to business. She started talking about funeral arrangements. They kind of floored me but I knew it was coming. I just wasn’t expecting it so quickly. She said that so far the press has only been grasping at straws, which is exactly what she wanted. She said Betty---the PR woman---was writing up the obits as we speak.

She detailed for us what was going to happen. The funeral was going to be private, with only friends and family. She expected about a hundred people or so but she said more could be penciled in. She wanted to do it one of the local perishes before I butted in. My parents didn’t believe in God, it was a choice that they stood proudly by. I think that put a kink in her plans but she recovered quickly. She pulled out an iPad and made some quick adjustments. The funeral was now being held at a funeral home. Then she moved along like nothing happened.

She and my grandfather talked about other things pertaining to the funeral but I phased them out. It was kind of strange to hear them talking about your own funeral when you were in the room. I glanced around the room a bit, looking at all the glass framed pictures on the wall. Good portions of them were the old man with different people: politicians, world leaders, several celebrities. There was one with him and the Rat Pack, that was kind of cool. But it wasn’t as cool as the one with him and Errol Flynn, that one made my day. It also made me a bit jealous. My grandfather couldn’t have been more than my age in the picture and yet he was already well off.

My great grandparents started out in oil. They hit it big at the turn of the century. During the Depression while everyone else suffered, they did marginally well. My grandfather switched the company over to technology in the Eighties when he realized how far the microchip was going to go. His major competitors did the same, all except for a young company called Lexcorp. They moved into arms manufacturing.

“Olivia, dear” a voice cut into my thoughts.

I looked around the room until I realized she was talking to me. “I’m sorry.”

Scarlet smiled. “We have something we’d like to discuss with you, sweetie”

I smiled weakly. I hated it when people tried to be extra nice to me. I could tell she was phony, most of those big business types were, the old man being the biggest. But I didn’t let any of that show. Instead, I sat like the docile little flower they wanted me to be and I listened to what they had to say. It was about my new life or more precisely the life of Olivia Queen. Apparently, all the arrangements were made. Jonas Oliver died on a sailboat in the Atlantic and Olivia Queen was born. That wasn’t the official story of course. The official tale had Olivia living overseas at some prestigious boarding school where she was being groomed as James Queen’s Heir Apparent to the Throne.

Olivia’s parents---my aunt, Laura and Uncle Robert---were killed in Africa while on Safari when I was five. Which really did happen, it was horrible and my mother was inconsolable for days. She and her sister were real close. After that, my grandfather supposedly kept me out of the spotlight, allowing a ward to raise me until I was old enough to be sent to school. He sent me to one of the most prestigious boarding schools in Europe. There I stayed until yesterday where I heard of the tragic news about my aunt, her husband and my dear cousin, Jonas.

It was a load of crap, which no one would buy, and I told them that, too.

“It’s only for the press,” said Scarlet, keeping her composure.

“What about the boarding school, aren’t they going to wonder where the mysterious Olivia Queen came from?”

Scarlet smiled. “The school is called St. Helens, your great grandfather; Jameson the Second set it up in 1923, two years after your grandfather was born. The school has been under the grace of the Queen family ever since. We’ve already made the proper adjustments to their roster and the Headmistress has been paid handsomely. As far as the world knows, Olivia Queen has been a student at St. Helen’s Academy for Young Women for many years.”
She smiled, proud of herself.

I huffed. “Throwing money at something isn’t always the answer.”

Scarlet laughed lightly. “Oh she’s a darling, Jameson.”

My grandfather smiled and sipped his tea.

Scarlet laid out the rest of my new fictional existence. They decided to make me sixteen to distance myself from well, myself. I thought that was kind of cool. They were able to do some backdoor dealings and got me a social security number and a birth certificate. They didn’t explain how they did that but I had my suspicions. She rambled off a bunch of other stuff, including something about getting my measurements, having my picture taken and things like that. I was still smiling about the sixteen thing. That meant I could drive. I’ve wanted to drive ever since I turned ten and now something that was anticipating greatly was finally here. It was so cool because sophomores got to drive their cars to school.

Wait…sixteen made me a sophomore now. That was so fricking cool; I couldn’t wait to see Mia’s face when I pulled up to school…

Two things dawned on me then. The first being that I wasn’t supposed to know Mia now; she was Jonas’s best friend. That made me feel a little sick to my stomach. How can I see my best friend and not be best friends with her? That led me into my second thing: was I going to be a sophomore? The first semester ends in December, at Christmas break. The new semester starts at the end of January. How the hell would I be able to pull off disappearing as back in August and coming back as Olivia in January?

I asked my question: “What’s going to happen about school?”

My grandfather beat Scarlet to the answer. “You’ll attend in January as a new student.”

I sighed. That was a relief but I was still curious as to how I was going to pull it off.

“You’ll just love Elias,” said Scarlet happily. “It is the very best school for young women in the country. I went there you know.”

Girl’s school, what the hell was she talking about?

“I’m not going to Elias, I’m going back to my old school,” I said defiantly. I needed to gain some control for myself.

“That’s out of the question,” said my grandfather “your old life is over. Jonas Oliver is dead and he’s going to remain dead. Can you imagine the scandal if you showed up to your old school where everyone knew you.’

He started that hacking cough of his again. I felt kind of bad because I brought it on. He covered his mouth with a handkerchief. He stopped coughing a few minutes later. When he put the handkerchief away, I thought I saw blood on it. He’s really sick?

“You need to let go of your old life,” he said continuing. ‘You need to understand that people will ask questions and we can’t have that. What we’re doing here is illegal and no amount of money can fix that. Besides, I can’t have people knowing you’re still alive.”

He left that last bit hanging. Did that mean I was right after all and someone did kill my parents on purpose?

He reached across the table as if to take my hand but stopped. Instead, he grabbed his teacup and drained it.

Our visit to Scarlet ended there but not before she got up and gave me a hug. Then she handed me the stack of folders, telling me it was imperative that I read what was inside. I grumbled a bit. I still wasn’t happy about all this but I had to agree with the old man. If someone did try to kill us, they’d be pretty pissed that they failed to get me. So I stuck the folders under my arm as we walked out of the office and into the elevator.

Jonas Oliver was dead; long live Olivia Queen.

Chapter Tenn:

It’s kind of weird going to your funeral. I stood in the back of the assembled crowd, away from the prying eyes. There was this big tree near my parents’ plot that provided the best cover. During the services, I had to wear a veil to hide my face. I was the only “girl” in the place wearing one but there were a lot of older women. I felt kind of ridiculous, but at least it hid my face. Most of the people from the church left but there was still a pretty good crowd at the cemetery. All of my friends were there. Roy was standing with Mia, an arm around her waist. I’d never seen him in a suit before---it kind of suited him---bad pun. Mia wasn’t doing so well. She didn’t look so good either. I could tell she’d lost a lot of weight and there were bags under her eyes. I wanted to go over there and comfort her myself but I knew that was out of the question.

Mr. and Mrs. Dearden were standing behind her. They looked just as sad as ever. They were somber people to begin with. It surprised me to see Mr. D there though; he was such a workaholic, probably more so seeing as he inherited the whole of the company. It was actually partially mine---per my father’s will---but seeing, as I was dead I arranged last night to have everything signed over to Mr. D. He deserved it more than I did.

Coach McCoy was there, his huge frame and height was taller than most. He was stone faced and looked out of place in his gray suit. I usually saw him wearing a blue tracksuit with yellow trim. I’d also never seen him this well groomed; he was kind of a mess any other time. He was standing with a group of kids from my class, most I knew but some I didn’t. Shado, the Japanese girl was among them. She was my lab partner. We got along decent enough but we weren’t friends. I was glad she was there though. I recognized a lot of other people too. I saw Dean Charles, my mother’s boss. He was standing with a group of other teachers. Some of my father’s people were there too, like his secretary Margaret. She was the nicest woman I’d ever known.

My grandfather had guests there too. He was sitting in one of the chairs reserved for family, Spencer and Locke behind him---standing of course. My grandfather didn’t look good today. He actually brought a cane to the church, which really made him look his age. Last night I asked him about his health but he told me it was nothing to worry about. Scarlet was standing off to the side, along with several other Q.I. employees I hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. They all looked sad and were dressed in black. It kind of annoyed me that they were present. I know they were kissing the boss’ ass but they didn’t know me or my parents.

The rest of the people present were faceless suits. They were probably friends of my grandfather, there to show their respects. The only one who stood out was a man who stood in the back of the assemblage. He was dressed in a sharp black suit. He had three burly guards standing with him but he looked as if he didn’t need them. There was something about him that made my skin crawl. He was tall and bald. His face was like a mask. He was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t quite remember where I’d seen him.

But the person I was looking for wasn’t there. I was surprised when Sandra didn’t show up to the church but I didn’t think anything of it. We’d only gone out that once and it wasn’t even really a date. But it was a bit surprising that she wasn’t here either. I thought we knew each other a little better than that. I know now that I didn’t have any real feelings for her. I didn’t have any testosterone to do so but I think I could have called her a friend. Maybe she was too upset to come. I would have been destroyed if it were her funeral. I’m not sure if I would have showed up but I would have tried my hardest.

I sighed, thinking about her only made things more complicated.

“I once went to my own funeral?”

I jumped, not realizing someone had snuck up on me. I turned around, not sure what to say or how to react. Standing next to me was BB. I snapped around, looking at the assembled masses. I vaguely remember seeing him at the church, sitting next to Roy. But I hadn’t seen him when Roy arrived at the cemetery. I just assumed BB went home. It never occurred to me that he was spying on me. He was leaning against the tree and from the looks of it; he was quite comfortable. I assume he’d been there for quite a while and wasn’t shocked when I didn’t hear him. BB had a way of sneaking up on people.

I panicked but I kept my cool. “I’m sorry, sir, do I know you?”

He smiled of those famous big toothy smiles of his. ‘You can cut the crap Jonas, I’ve known you for quite some time and even though you have changed a bit in the last few months, your aura does not lie.”

BB was all about the auras. He claimed it was something his trip learned from a magic man a few hundred years ago. They also dabbled in spirit walking and shape shifting, if you believed BB’s stories. Roy and I used to eat them up when we were kids but as we got older, they sounded kind of crazy and made up.

Apparently, there was some credence to his claims after all.

I sighed. There was no use lying. “Does Roy know?”

He shook his head. He lifted my veil, putting it on the top of my head. He smiled when he saw my face. I was crying. He wiped the tears away and held me for a while. It was could to feel comforted by a man I considered one of my second fathers, the other being Mia’s dad. I cried for ten minutes, burying my face into his chest.“Do not cry Little Arrow, everything is going to be all right.”

Though his people called us different names, BB had nicknames of his own for Roy and me. Roy was Little Bow because he was sturdy and strong. I was Little Arrow because I was sharp and fast. He said it made the two of us the perfect friends because we complemented each other so well. We always thought it was pretty cool. Mia thought it was kind of stupid but I think she was jealous because she was left out of our little brotherhood.

After I was done crying, I gave him the abridged version of my story. He listened intently and smiled at several parts, mainly the ones where I mentioned being Miss Arrowette. Yeah, I told him but he would have found out, if he didn’t know already. He was good at reading people and he knew my style. When I was done, he took me by the hand and led me away from the crowd. I didn’t really want to see them lower three empty coffins into the ground anyway. He took me over to where a couple of the older tombstones had toppled with age. We sat down and he laughed.

“I thought that was you” he said, “They’ve been showing a grainy security video from the mall on the TV. You can’t really make anything out but I recognized your shooting style.”

I groaned. I saw that stupid thing on the news last night. They were playing it on several channels; I looked like an idiot. I’m just glad they didn’t show anything of me running around in the scuba outfit; I would have died from embarrassment.

“I think the press is going a little overboard.”

He laughed. “You sure picked a helluva time to be a hero. That Jade and Terra are all over the news too. I’m also hearing rumblings about some girl in Japan as well.”

I nodded. I’d read something about her too. These Metahumans were coming out of the woodwork now. I couldn’t help but wonder where I fit in with all of this.

How can a mere human compare to the likes of them?

We talked for about fifteen minutes, about nonsensical things. He wanted to know about my body and why it was so changed. So I told him about my condition. I started crying again and he gave me another hug. I called myself a freak but he said I was special. I tried to argue but he wouldn’t allow me too. Instead, he reached into his shirt and took something from his neck. He put it around my neck without me even realizing it.

“This pendant is a good luck charm” he said, “It has protected my people for generations. It was given to me by my father and his father before him. And although Roy is technically my son I wish for you to have it.”

I lifted the pendant in my hands. It was a green arrowhead, about as big as my palm. I tried to protest and told him I couldn’t accept it but he insisted. He said he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. To demonstrate he leaned forward, kissed me on the forehead and walked away. I got up to go after him but he disappeared when he was only a few feet away. He didn’t vanish but he passed by a tree and disappeared. He liked to do that a lot too.

I hid the pendant inside the collar of my blouse. Then I walked slowly back to the group. Everyone was parting now. I saw the bald headed man walk away from my grandfather; he looked pissed. My grandfather was sitting and he looked upset. He gave me a look when I approached but he didn’t scold me. Instead, he nodded to Locke and I was escorted to the car. I grumbled a bit but I didn’t protest. I decided to play the good little girl, for now at least.

>-------------------------------------------------->

When I walked into the room after the funeral, I flopped onto my couch and pulled off my shoes. Never again was I letting anyone talk me into heels. When I got up this morning, Scarlet was there waiting for me. She had a nice black blouse, skirt and heels waiting for me. I tried to protest but she said it was necessary to appear as a girl my age. It was all a part of my grand re-education process. According to Scarlet, she had about three months to mold me into the ideal teenage girl. I told her she was wasting her time but she said she liked a challenge.

After meeting with her, we took the elevator up. My grandfather got off on the fifty-ninth floor where his office was located. Spencer took me up to my floor. It was mine alone. He said they went to the house and got some of my things but most of them were inappropriate like my clothes. When he showed me the penthouse, I was floored because it was enormous, far too big for just me. It had a main sitting room with a huge sectional sofa, 52-inch 3D flat screen that came with a state of the art entertainment center, its own gas powered fireplace, a fully stocked kitchen, three bedrooms, two baths, a Jacuzzi and one of the best views I’d ever seen. There was a fruit basket on the coffee table with a note from Scarlet. The room was Spartan and manly, with no furniture except the couch. In her note, she said she’d get an interior decorator in as soon as she could. I was in no rush; I kind of liked the Spartan look.

After Spencer left me alone, I found the 360 and played games all night---I had a massive video game library now, I think it was every one on the market. I must have fallen asleep on the couch because I woke up there in the morning. When I stumbled into the bathroom, it was twice the size of my bedroom at home. I showered, dressed in a long t-shirt and spent most of the day watching TV. Scarlet had come by around about noon and told me how things were going to go for the next three months. There was the funeral then what she liked to call “Girl Lessons”.

I groaned and threw my shoes across the room. The Girl Lessons officially began bright and early in the morning. I wasn’t looking forward to those. I liked being a guy and even though I couldn’t be one, I was looking forward to being a tomboy. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. So far, I’d been getting away with jeans and a baggy t-shirt. But Scarlet thought I was too masculine looking and that meant I was too Jonas looking. So the first step in Girl Lessons was taking me shopping. I wasn’t looking forward to that one bit.

I got off the couch and found the shirt I wore all day yesterday. Scarlet buried it n the bottom of my hamper, in hopes that I wouldn’t wear it again. But it was still fairly clean. I stripped down to my panties and pulled the shirt over my head. There was a tall mirror on the wall and I stopped to take a long look. I saw a blonde haired fox staring at me. My boobs weren’t very big yet but I sure had the butt. I was still amazed at how much I’d changed in the last few months. I remembered when Mia went through puberty---she was twelve---one minute she was boyish and the next she had all these curves. Her boobs were about as big as mine were now but there was nothing boyish about her now.

“Jonas you really are dead, aren’t you?”

I sighed as I looked at myself. There really wasn’t a boy in there after all. I left my preening and went back to the couch. The sectional was huge. It was big enough to fit a dozen people and still have room. I grabbed a blanket and wrapped myself in it. It was something my Nana---my father’s mother---knitted for me. It was one of the last things I had of hers. She died when I was ten, I never knew her husband, my other grandfather. After making the initial trip to the house they asked if there was anything else, I needed, the blanket was on my short list. So was my laptop but they were reluctant to bring that to me. I finally got to them to relent. All my things were here when I woke up this morning.

I refused to sleep in my new room. I got a peek in there yesterday and was horrified. Even though there was no decoration in the rest of my place, the bedroom was another story entirely. Someone saw too it to make it the girliest, pinkest room ever. It was an absolute eyesore. It had everything a girl could ever want, including a vanity and a canopy bed. But I wasn’t a girl and it scared the hell out of me. It scared the hell out of Scarlet when she looked too. She told me she’d make my room priority one on her list, it was the only thing she and I agreed on.

I grabbed the remote and started flipping through the channels but there was nothing on. So I found myself grabbing my laptop and booting up. It felt strange being surrounded by all this technology after being away from it for so long. When I logged into my account, I had several e-mails. Most of them were spam that I deleted but there were a few from Mia, dating all the way back to August, to the day after I disappeared. I started with that one. It was a pleasant enough message, just telling me how bored she was without me. After that, the messages started to get less pleasant and more worried. Mia was frantic. First, she had been pissed---the two of us never forgot to return e-mails---then she was scared. She could tell something was wrong.

As I read them, I started to tear up. I could feel Mia’s anguish and it killed me inside.

The last e-mail was dated a few weeks ago. When I opened it up, I was surprised at how different she sounded. It was very somber. It wasn’t even really addressed to me; it was just her rambling. After the last few, I realized she was just using her e-mails to me as an outlet. She mentioned feeling depressed and suicidal. Without me there was nothing more to live for. She talked about how she ate very little now and couldn’t sleep because she kept having nightmares about me. Apparently, the day before she wrote it they had some big Memorial Service for me at the school.

I was bawling like crazy. My friend, my best friend in the whole wide world, was hurting. I bit my lip and closed the laptop, not bothering to log off. I looked at the clock on the wall; it was four in the afternoon. The Deardens lived just outside the city, about two hours away. They were a couple of miles from my house. I knew it was probably a big mistake but I needed to see her, I didn’t care if it blew everything my grandfather was trying to establish. She was my best friend and my “death” was killing her.

I pulled off my big shirt, found my bra and a pair of pants. Scarlet had done some preliminary shopping for me. She got me a couple of tops, some jeans, underwear, socks and a few skirts. I was never going to wear the skirts but the other clothes weren’t too bad. The jeans were skinny leg and really tight but they fit me like a glove---which scared the hell out of me. I found a plain white shirt, it was tight in all the wrong places and felt wrong but it would have to do. I have to get used to it. My sneakers were a new pair from Lady Footlocker, another pair of Nikes like my mom bought for me. I completely my look with a pink hoodie---it was horrible but it was all they had.

I grabbed my keycard, locked my door and went into the elevator.

>-------------------------------------------------->

They caught me in the lobby. Apparently, my room had a security camera just outside the door and I got picked up when I left. Spencer and my grandfather were waiting for me, neither looked too happy. My grandfather wanted to march me right back up to my room but I talked him out of it.

“I feel like a bird in a cage up there” I whined. “I need to get out, get some fresh air.”

He contemplated it for a while but he finally relented. But there were conditions of course, one of them being that I had to take a car. I talked him out of the limo but wasn’t able to talk him into anything more fancy than a gray sedan. The other condition was that Spencer had to go with me. The city was a dangerous place, especially for a young lady all alone. I tried to tell him I wasn’t one hundred percent female but I was close enough in his book. I didn’t want to press that matter, I was hoping to keep the thing between my legs for the time being.

I had conditions of my own. The first being that Spencer had to leave his gun behind. I hated guns; I hated everything they stood for. He reluctantly gave it up as long as he could have the right to carry a tazer. I agreed. My second one was very important to me and essential to my overall plan: Spencer needed to maintain a distance of twenty feet at all times. They argued and we bargained it down to fifteen. I could do fifteen, it would be harder but it was doable.

The car was waiting for us when we went outside. Spencer got into the driver’s seat and made me sit in the back. He had some kind of master lock, which locked all the doors and kept me from opening them. He grinned, thinking himself clever. We drove into the heart of the city, going toward the shopping district. He thought I was some dumb blonde itching to blow some dough. Before we left my grandfather gave me a bank card and told me it had a one hundred thousand dollar limit but I was to be frugal with it. I nearly had a heart attack, especially when I saw my name on the card. What kind of adult gives a teenager an allowance that big?

We pulled up in front of a small boutique. It was a cutest, girly store, the girliest I could find. It was perfect for Operation Lose the Goon. Spencer grumbled about it but he was ordered to follow me around and to do as I said---within reason of course. We went into the shop and it was the girliest place I’d ever seen. It was jammed pack with row after row of clothing. I wanted to gag but instead I perused the aisles, looking like I belonged. It didn’t take much; after all, I was a teenage girl now.

I started pulling clothes out left and right, looking at them and sticking them back. I didn’t really know what I was doing but I’d seen Mia do it more than once. I found a pair of sunglasses and put them on; they were perfect. I browsed for a few more seconds, grabbing some Chap Stick and gum. I stuck the Chap Stick in Spencer’s pocket without him noticing and went to the counter to pay for my things. He looked uncomfortable. As we were exiting the store, the alarm went off. The woman behind the counter shouted at us. She checked me and seeing as I was clean she told me, I could leave. I smiled at Spencer as the woman made him empty his pockets. When she saw the tazer on his belt, she went hysterical.

I chose that time to run. I took off down the street and around the corner. I was too fast for Spencer, who was still stuck back in the store. I was laughing the whole way. Once I was far enough away I used the closest ATM. I got four hundred bucks out and hailed a cab. When he got there, I slipped into the back and saw Spencer as he rounded the corner. He saw me get into the cab and started running but we were long gone before he got to me. I saw him stamp his foot on the ground as the cab went around the corner. I told him where I wanted to go and he was more than happy to oblige. I sat in silence, wondering about Mia. She looked real bad at the cemetery. Her skin looked real pale, her hair was back to its normal, dull mud brown color and her face looked gaunt and ghost-like. She was a shadow of her vibrant self. I couldn’t help but think of the email and her suicidal comments. I needed to see her; I needed to make sure she was all right.

We pulled up to Mia’s house about two hours later. I gave the cabbie two hundred bucks ... that made him beam. I pulled the hood over my head and put on the sunglasses. I told the cabbie to stay put and I’d give him an extra hundred. I stuck a stick of gum in my mouth and chewed it like a moron. I took a deep breath and walked up the driveway. Mia’s mother was like a second mom to me. I was a bit nervous as I walked up onto their porch. I didn’t want them to recognize me, at least not right away. I’m not sure what I was going to say if they did recognize me but I was hoping they wouldn’t.

When I rang the doorbell, Dr. D answered. She was dressed in her white coat and looked to be going off to work. She often worked the late shift at the hospital. She smiled at me as she opened the door.

“How can I help you sweetie?”

“I’m looking for Mia; we were supposed to hang out today.”

Dr. D looked past me to the waiting cab. She frowned. “Mia isn’t here dear.”

Mia never went anywhere. “Do you know where I can find here?”

She nodded. “The same place she’s been going for the last few weeks, over to the Oliver place.”

Mia was going to my house. Why the hell would she be going there?

I thanked her and told her I knew where that was. She smiled and followed me down the driveway. She offered to drive me there but I told her I had the cab. She nodded and walked toward her Benz in the drive. I went back to the cab and told him to take me to my old house. Why would Mia be going there? Was she looking for some kind of connection to me? Maybe it felt like she was close to me there.

We pulled up to my house about ten minutes later. I gave the cabbie the rest of the money I promised and told him I wouldn’t need him any longer. He took his money graciously and drove away. I was at the end of our long driveway, looking at the place that had been my home for fifteen years. It looked dark, gloomy and depressing. I walked slowly down the drive and stared at the large house, as it got closer and closer. It was all locked up and dark inside. In the three months since, the grass had grown long and there were newspapers overflowing in and around our mailbox. All the flowers in my mother’s garden were dead and the little bird bath was bone dry.

I didn’t bother with the front door because we locked it before we left.

I went around back. I knew the door there would be locked but there was a hidden key nearby. I climbed the privacy fence into the backyard, nearly falling on Sparky’s old doghouse. It pained me to see it there; I missed that dog just as much as I missed my family. I found the key in a fake rock and used it to gain entry into the sunroom. The house was dark and cold. The mid-afternoon sun shone through the dusty windows but it wasn’t the same. Most of our furniture was gone and everything else was in boxes. It looked a lot like the Miami beach house.

I shouted “Mia” and my voice echoed through the emptiness.

I wanted to cry so badly but I forced it in. Instead, I went upstairs. If Mia were anywhere, it would be my bedroom. I crept slowly down the hall, suppressing my tears and trying to keep myself from coughing. The place was dusty and smelled of musk. My mother would have had a fit because she was such a clean person. When I reached my room, I found the door ajar. I stepped inside. The only thing there was my bed frame and more boxes. This time I cried. My whole life had been in this room and it was horrible to see it boxed away like that.

I sighed. There was no Mia here either. I took one last look at the room and turned to leave. That’s when I heard the scream. I ran back into the room and looked out the window. It was coming from the forest behind the house. I could see several bicycles resting against the outer trees; one of them was Mia’s. Of course, she’d be in the woods but who did the other bikes belong too?

The scream sounded again. It was definitely a girl’s.

I ran to my closet. Inside I found what I was looking for: my bow case. I threw it on the bed and opened it; my bow was still there. It looked exactly like I left it. It was my trusty PSE X-Appeal. I pulled it out of the case, gave the string a couple of pulls. It was a little too easy for me now but it was still just as good. I found my quiver too as well as my wrist guard and glove. I grabbed all of them and ran for the door.

>-------------------------------------------------->

I knew these woods better than anyone. I’d spent my whole childhood traipsing through them, pretending to be on adventures with my Merry Men. Now I wasn’t traipsing. Now I was running as fast as I could, running around trees, trying to avoid the crunch of the autumn leaves. Mia ha screamed two more times since I left the house, the second time I had just reached the woods. The last scream was about ten minutes ago. It worried me that there wasn’t another one.

The company she was with worried me too. From my bedroom window, I didn’t recognize the bikes but I did when I got closer. They were all custom jobs, modified wheels, gears and paint jobs. They belonged to a group of jackasses from school, led by Dave Martin. They were a bunch of stoners mainly, troublemakers who pulled petty crimes and got a few months in Juvie for it. Why Mia was hanging with them was well beyond me. It hurt to think about it. Surely, they weren’t her friends now. Her emails had said she was slacking off, doing poorly in school. But was she doing so bad as to hang out with them? Dave and his guys were the lowest of the low, scum of the earth. They were notorious for their nasty ways, especially how they treated women. There was one girl, last year, who they actually put in the hospital because she refused to let them have their way with her.

A fire burned in me as I ran. If they touched her in any way like that, I’d kill them all.

It didn’t take me long to find them. They were making all sorts of noise, laughing and joking around. There were four of them, not including Mia. They were all sitting in a circle, drinking and passing a joint between them. I hid myself behind a tree, nocking an arrow and waiting. Mia was on the ground in the middle of the group. She was dressed like a Goth---which was nothing new---but she was a little more so than usual. I’d never seen her in fishnets and a skirt before. She looked scared and maybe a bit drunk. It broke my heart to see her like that. She wore dark makeup and didn’t look like anything like the damsel in distress.

“Scream again” said Dave, the big fat one of the group.

Mia laughed, pushing herself off the ground and screamed again. The others laughed with her and I was crushed. She wasn’t in trouble at all; she was having fun. These bastards had corrupted my best friend. They took her when she was must vulnerable and turned her into one of them. I aimed at Dave, so eager to let my arrow go but I couldn’t. I wasn’t a murderer. Besides every person makes their own choice and even if Mia was coerced into it, she still made that choice.

It pissed me off a bit but there was nothing to be done.

At least nothing with my bow.

I was about to set my bow against the tree and try a diplomatic approach when Mia screamed again. But this time it wasn’t a scream in jest. One of Dave’s cronies was standing in front of her, his pants pulled down to his ankles. I knew him, Greg Smith, and I hated his guts.

“I said knock it off Greg” she said, pushing to her feet.

Bobby Crane grabbed her from behind, holding her arms and forcing her to the ground.

Greg approached her, his boxers now at his ankles too. He was holding his erect thing, trying to force it into Mia’s mouth. Mia was struggling and crying. Dave, Bobby, Greg and their fourth friend Mike were laughing. Me, I was even more pissed. I grabbed my bow, nocked an arrow and took aim. I targeted Greg’s earring when he turned his head, to laugh at Dave. I was using blunt targeting arrows, the ones we used in class. When I fired, I put the arrow straight through his earring, tearing it off his ear and putting it in the nearby tree.

Greg screamed in pain, falling backwards into Dave. The two of them fell to the ground in a heap. I fired another shot, pinning Bobby’s sleeve to the tree he was leaning against. He let go of Mia and she dropped to the ground. She scrambled away and looked around frantically. She was looking for the shooter, probably wondering if there was an arrow for her too.

Dave pushed Greg off of him, grabbing a beer bottle as he got to his feet. I fired one shot that broke the bottle and another into the ground right near his left foot. He screamed and pissed his pants. He grabbed Greg and pulled him off the ground. The two of them didn’t stay around for very long. Together with Mike, the three of them took off running, leaving Bobby still stuck to the tree. He called to them but they didn’t stop. So HE tried to free himself, pulling at the arrow with his free hand.

I shot another arrow, pinning his other sleeve to the tree. He wailed in fear. Mia rounded on him and kicked him in the balls. He wailed again but this time from the pain. Then she got on her knees, waiting for her arrow no doubt.

I stepped out from my hiding place and walked into the clearing. I dropped my bow, took off my sunglasses and dropped my hood. The look on Mia’s face was one of pure and utter shock. First, she stared at me, then she rubbed her eyes. When that didn’t seem to work, she crawled away from me, probably thinking I was a ghost. I walked over to her, bent down in front of her and gently touched her face. I was so close that our noses were practically touching.

She reached out and touched my face. “Ollie?”

I smiled. “I’m sorry it took so long, Speedy.”

She broke into tears and threw her arms around my neck. I started crying too, holding her like I’d never held her before. I didn’t want to let go. She was my best friend in the whole wide world and I was so close to losing her. We hugged for what seemed like an eternity. When we finally separating, tears streaming down both our faces, she slapped me.

“I deserved that,” I said laughing through my tears.

She glared at me. “Where the hell have you been?”

I hugged her again and cried.

-----

Author's Note: Here's chapters 11 and 12, both of them are kind of on the light and fluffy side but they're fun I think. Here's some good news,this post was supposed to be the last in the story but after discussing it with my editor we both agreed that it ends too abruptly so there will be another chapter or two. I'd like to thank djkauf once again for the excellent editing and I must stress again that Green Arrow is a trademark and copyright of DC Comics.

-----

Chapter Eleven:

The noise of the TV is doing nothing to bring me solace. It’s a rerun of Family Guy, but I’m not really paying much attention to it. All I can think about is Mia. When I saw her at the cemetery and read her emails, I knew I had to do something to help her. She was miserable and suicidal. She was my best friend too; there was no way I was going to let her suffer like that.

I sat up, the blanket sliding off me. I looked at the clock on the far wall; it was three am. In three hours, Scarlet was going to be here to drag me off on some foolish excursion. I think it was a day at the salon then shopping or maybe it was the other way around. There was an email waiting for me when I got back tonight but I only slightly glanced over it. I wasn’t really in the mood after the lashing I got. Suffice to say the old man was known to be unhappy that I ditched Spencer. I never knew someone so old and calm could yell so much. He kept asking me where I was and when I told him he didn’t believe me. It wasn’t a lie per se but it wasn’t exactly the truth either.

If I had told him, I snuck off to help my best friend he would have blown a gasket. Instead I told him I slipped away to go home. I said I needed to see it for myself, to bring about some kind of closure. They only made him angrier. But luckily for me, Scarlet was there and she came to my aid. Scarlet may have been a pain in the ass but she went to bat for me, and that I wouldn’t forget. My grandfather grounded me and told me I could only leave if I had three escorts. When I stormed back to my room, Scarlet followed. When she asked where I really went I told her it was to see a friend and she dropped it. I’m not sure why I told her the truth but I was tired of lying.

I sighed and grabbed the remote. I flicked off the TV and lay back down. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get to sleep. I kept thinking about Mia and the time the two of us had shared together. It was like the two of us rediscovered one another all over again. No, it was nothing perverted, but it was like two sisters realizing they had one another.

I smiled as my mind drifted back to it.

>-------------------------------------------------->

After I was done crying in her arms, she wiped away my tears.

She sat and stared at me for a bit, not sure what to say. When she spoke, it was in a soft, reassuring voice. “Ollie, you want to tell me about it?”

So I did. Just like I with BB I told her everything and didn’t leave anything out. She cried a bit when I told her about my parents and hugged me tightly. I told her about living on the island, being rescued by the cruise ship and then saving everyone from the so-called pirates. She smiled at that. I then told her about Gloria, about going to the mall and stopping the robbers. I ended my story with being found by my grandfather, going to my own funeral and the life I was now supposed to live.

When I was finished, she didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at me. Then she slowly reached forward, touching my face at first. Then she moved her hands to my breasts. She frowned a bit. I was about to ask why when she sighed.

“You’re bigger than me now.”

We both laughed at that. I hadn’t really noticed but I suppose I was. My mother once told me about her own puberty. She was a late bloomer too, but as soon as they started growing, they didn’t want to stop. She was a B cup before the end of her freshman year and almost a C when she started her sophomore year. At the time, it scared the hell out of me because my little buds were nothing. But over the last few months they were growing rapidly, it felt like they were getting bigger every day. I’m not sure if I was happy or horrified. A few months ago, it would have definitely been horrifying but now that I had to be a girl, I’m not sure how I felt about it.

“So what should I call you?”

I bit my lip. That was a good question. I really didn’t want her to call me Jonas but I wasn’t happy with Olivia either. “You can call me Ollie when we’re alone I guess. But I think you should probably call me Olivia or something when we’re in public.”

That brought another frown to her face. “Can we be in public together?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“How would we explain knowing one another?”

I hadn’t really thought about that. I was just determined to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid. I didn’t really think things through when I ran off to rescue her. I still wasn’t really thinking things through. I was just happy that there was someone else from my old life who knew I was still alive. I told her all that and she smiled, giving me another hug. She was all about the hugs now. I guess it was something best gal pals did. I’m not complaining but it was a little weird.

She asked another question that seemed to be bothering her too. “Why are you a girl now, anyway?”

I was wondering the same thing too. I told her that.

She just continued with her earlier train of thought. “I mean, if there really are people trying to kill you, wouldn’t it be simpler just to be you. I mean, they connected you with Mr. Queen but that was easy enough to do. You could have just come forward and told the world your story. There was no reason to kill you off and then make you pretend to be someone else. I mean, being Olivia Queen is going to make you an even bigger target, after all you have his name now.”

I nodded. “He was insistent about it. I tried fighting him but he made it very clear that Jonas had to stay dead.”

“That’s stupid.”

We talked about it for a few more minutes and both of us tried to get our heads around it. The only thing we could come up with was embarrassment. The old man was rich and very influential. His money had helped several politicians get their jobs, including the one who currently sat in the big White House. I think he was embarrassed about me. After all, there would have been quite a scandal to bring me forth and say I was Jonas Oliver, his grandson. I didn’t exactly look like a grandson anymore. Before I was able to get by with baggy clothes and an androgynous look. Now, there was nothing boy about me, except what was between my legs.

I started crying. The old man truly was a bastard. Mia hugged me again, allowing me to cry on her shoulder.

“I hate this body,” I sobbed. “I hate these stupid female hormones. I can’t stop crying, my chest itches and my butt is too big.”

She laughed. “Welcome to girlhood, Ollie.”

She told me everything was going to be OK, and now she was there to help me. I nodded, wiping my tears. I asked her if she was going to be OK and she sighed.

She said she didn’t really want to talk about it, but thinking I was dead was horrible. When I asked her how long she thought that, she didn’t answer.Instead, she brushed some hair from her face. She looked kind of weird, not having her usual hot pink mop. When I told her that, she lightly punched me.We stopped hugging and we helped each other up. Bobby groaned behind us and started complaining. I snapped around and cursed, completely forgetting about him. He was still pinned to the tree and gave me a cruel look.

“I knew you were a freak, Oliver,” he snapped and started laughing.

Mia glared at him. She snapped around and was ready to punch him but I grabbed her elbow. I had another idea. I reached into my pocket and took out the two hundred dollars I had left; I waved it in front of his face.

“This is two hundred,” I said, stuffing it his pants pocket. “You keep your mouth shut and it’s all yours.”

He snorted. “You’re going to need a lot more than that to keep my mouth shut, freak?”

“How much?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“I think a million will do it. You’re rich now, right?”

I groaned. This prick was going to be a real problem. Why the hell did I leave him stuck to the tree like that? I opened my mouth to negotiate when Mia beat me to it. She walked quickly over to Bobby, leaned up a little and whispered in his ear. I’m not sure what she said but after a few seconds his eyes opened wide and his lip quivered. When she was done, he looked like she’d kicked him in the balls again.

“I’ll do as you say, I’ll take the money, just don’t tell anyone that?”

Mia smirked. She leaned forward and pulled the arrows out of his sleeves. He fell to the ground, landing on his knees. He wailed a bit and got to his feet, stumbling over them a bit, as he ran off. He didn’t look back and actually tripped before he disappeared. Mia started laughing and handed me the arrows, I slipped them back into my quiver. I had a bunch but I didn’t want to leave any around in case the jerks called the cops on me. It was unlikely seeing as what they were doing but I couldn’t take the chance.

“What did you say to him?”

She smiled. “My mother’s his doctor. I told him that she told me how big his penis really was and if he didn’t keep his mouth shut I was going to tell the whole school.”

I laughed. “Was any of it true?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I figured a bad ass like him would be scared about something like that.”

‘I’m glad you’re on my side,” I said, wrapping my arm around her waist.

She nodded. “That’s why you’re going to make me your sidekick.”

I pulled my hand away and gave her a look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She grinned. “All great superheroes need sidekicks. I’m not saying I want to run around and fight crime with you but I could be your computer tech or something.”

I groaned. This was all I needed. “I’m not a superhero.”

She punched me in the arm. “We both know that’s wrong.”

I changed the subject by asking her to help me retrieve the two other arrows I fired. We found the first one because it was stuck in the ground but it took us a few minutes to find the one I broke the beer bottle with. Mia found it stuck in a tree and pulled it. I put them back into the quiver and then the two of us started trudging back to my house. On the way she brought up the whole superhero thing again, I tried to change the subject but she was insistent upon it.

When we got back to my house---or rather my old house---she asked me about it for the umpteenth time.

“It was a one time thing.”

“Two times actually”

I sighed. “I did it because people needed me. Before on the cruise ship I thought it was a cool idea but afterwards I realized how dangerous it really was. I’m not like those people on the TV, I don’t have super powers.”

She sighed and nodded. But she wasn’t ready to give it up. ‘You may not have super powers but you’re an awesome archer.”

I couldn’t argue with that but that was no reason to start running around and helping people. I told her that and then told her I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She frowned but agreed. Instead, we used her cell phone and called us a cab. When it arrived, we got in without a word. It dropped her off first; she paid quickly. I told her I’d email her later and she liked that. The cab took me home as slow as possible. My thoughts were on the whole superhero thing. Mia knew how to do that, get under your skin and make you second-guess things. I’m not saying I was second-guessing my decision but it was something to think about.

When I got to Queen Towers, my grandfather and Spencer were waiting. Neither looked too happy. Spencer paid my cab and my grandfather told me that under no circumstance was I allowed to leave again.

>-------------------------------------------------->

Could I be a superhero?

I groaned as I rolled over on my stomach, avoiding the discomfort my breasts were causing. I’d been thinking about it for the last few hours, ever since Mia and I parted ways. She was convinced that that’s exactly what I should do. But Mia had a tendency to get these crazy ideas in her head and run with them. Often times she roped me into them too. Sometimes though they weren’t as crazy as I originally thought they were. But this one was probably the craziest. I know that I’d saved people; I’d done it twice, like she pointed out. But the first time was necessary and the second time was a fluke.

Could I do it all the time though?

I racked my brain for the rest of the night---or morning rather---I never did get any sleep. Scarlet came promptly at six am and was shocked and pleased to see me up. She was a bit P.O.ed to see me still not dressed but she rectified that quickly enough. She was carrying a shopping bag with her; apparently, she’d gotten an early start. She handed me the bag and told me to get dressed as fast as possible. I took the bag and trudged off to the bathroom. I was so tired, but I didn’t let her see that.

When I opened the bag, I groaned. Scarlet was bound and determined to make me as girly as possible. The bra and panty were pink, which weren’t so bad. I slipped them both on. When I first started wearing a training bra, I had a hell of a time with it but my mother helped me. Now putting on a bra was the easiest thing in the world. After getting my undergarments on, I found the other two items in the bag. The shirt wasn’t so bad. It was a little small and a bit tight around the bust area but I managed. The skirt scared the hell out of me. I held it up in front of me, making a face in the mirror. It was white and pleated, like something a tennis player or a cheerleader would wear. I groaned. It was November and though it was only mildly cold, it still was too short. I reluctantly slipped it own, groaning some more when I discovered it only barely went past my hips.

I walked out of the room, tugging on the hem, trying to stretch it longer.

Scarlet smiled. “You look absolutely adorable.”

“I feel like an extra from Bring It On.”

She ignored the insult and held up a pair of white shoes. She explained that they only had a one-inch heel. She beckoned me over to the couch and told me to sit. I did so, with my legs wide open. She smacked my knees, telling me “young ladies sat with their legs together, especially when wearing skirts.”

She put the heels on my feet and groaned at the sight of my legs. I looked and saw a fine layer of blonde hair, barely visible. She mentioned something about getting them waxed then told me to stand up. I nearly fell over but she caught me. Then she told me to walk from one end of the room to the other. I groaned and did so reluctantly. I wobbled and stumbled but never once fell. She kept having me walk back and forth until I got it right. It took about fifteen minutes. Eventually I was able to glide as gracefully as I was going to allow. She wasn’t happy, but we had a deadline to keep and an appointment in a few hours.

‘This is for you,” she said, reaching into another bag and handing me a small white purse. “I’ve already put some essentials in there for you. The rest is up to you. A lady never goes anywhere without her purse, remember that, sweetie.”

I took the purse, smiled weakly and nodded. I felt like a total idiot carrying it but I guess I’d survive.

We got in the elevator. Scarlet complained about the state of my hair and my lack of makeup. I looked at the reflective surface of the elevator wall. My hair was getting quite a bit longer now. It was past my shoulders but just barely. It was kind of a mess though. I shampooed when I showered and Gloria taught me how to wash it but other than that, I didn’t take very good care of it. There was a salon onboard the ship but I never had time to go because I was busy working. Thinking about Gloria reminded me that I needed to call her; she was probably worried sick about me.

The elevator ride was long and annoying. Scarlet started playing with my hair half way down, finally pulled it into a high ponytail on the top of my head. She tied it there with a rubber band and promised to get me some accessories later. When we got down to the lobby, my goons were waiting. I barely acknowledged Spencer and Locke but the third man caught my eye. Partly because he wasn’t dressed in a suit and partly because he was so young. Looking at his sandy blonde hair, chiseled features and cute smile---did I just think his smile was cute---made my face blush. My heart skipped a beat and when he looked at me, I turned my head away. God, tell me I’m not crushing on this guy. I groaned, there was no way in hell I was attracted to guys, that was absolutely absurd.

“Hi, I’m Luke” he held out his hand and I shook it limply. “Your grandfather has asked that I stick by your side for the rest of your time here. I hope that’s all right with you?”

I nodded numbly. I stuttered my name to him, which caused the others to smile. Luke didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he didn’t react.

There was another sedan waiting for us outside but this was blue. I got in the back with Scarlet and Luke. Spencer got in the front with the driver. Our destination today was the Star City Center; it was one of the biggest shopping malls in the country. It had over a thousand stores, four floors, which included two movie theaters, a bowling alley and an indoor ice-skating rink. Mia and I used to spend loads of time there. She liked to drag me from one little shop to the other. I used to spend hours watching her try on clothes then groan because she wanted my opinion on them. What was worse was that a lot of the sales ladies kept asking me why a pretty girl like me wasn’t trying on any either. I always used to tell them I was a tomboy to save the embarrassment. Now I don’t think I could use that excuse.

Thinking of Mia reminded me of something. I reached into my purse, wondering if there was one in there. When my hand found the familiar shape, I pulled it out. I was pleasantly surprised. It was one of the new QPhones; it was the latest model, not even on the market yet. It was like an iPhone but much better because Queen Industries made a lot of adjustments. For one thing, it was smaller and for another, it only needed to be charged once. I’m not sure how they pulled it off and I didn’t care. I turned it on and found everything was already programmed in, except for Mia’s number of course. I started texting her, remembering her new number---her old one she allowed to run out, it was too painful for her to have the phone when she knew I had its match.

I fired through the text quickly enough, telling her where I was going and where to meet me. It was all a part of our elaborate plan. We concocted it last night. My grandfather wouldn’t allow me to have any contact with my old life but who’s to stop me from meeting a “new friend” in the mall. It was Mia’s genius way for us to still be friends and be new at the same time. It was a simple plan: I’d text her, she’d go to the mall and the two of us would meet in some random store. We’d hit it off and the rest would be history.

It took us about an hour to get to the mall; the driver dropped us off out front. He drove off; Spencer told him we’d call when we were done. I’d been in the mall hundreds of times before and knew where I wanted to go: usually straight to a bookstore. Scarlet had other plans. The first place we went was a lingerie store. It was so embarrassing. We stayed in there for too long. Even Luke and Spencer were uncomfortable there. They kept looking at their watches and I think I heard Spencer groan once or twice. I found out that I was a small B cup, which meant nothing to me except that it was bigger than Mia. I’m not sure why that made me happy but it did.

After the lingerie store, Scarlet dragged us from one boutique after another. She forced me into so many changing rooms that I wanted to scream. We left each store with at least three pages and set up to have several other things sent directly to Queen Towers. The only good thing about shopping with Scarlet is that we got the store to ourselves. As soon as we arrived at one place, Spencer would go in and the store would clear out. A lot of people would come out grumbling, which I felt kind of bad for but there was nothing I could do about it. Apparently, my name had a lot of pull. As soon as I entered the store, a lot of kiss-ass sales ladies treated me like a princess.

We shopped until noon. By then my stomach was grumbling and I was so exhausted my feet felt like lead. I think Luke half-dragged; half carried me to the food court. It was there that I “bumped” into Mia. I was standing in line at the Pizza Palace when she tapped me on my shoulder. It was all part of the plan.

I turned and smiled when I saw her. She looked like her normal self again, including the bright pink hair I loved so much.

“I love that top,” she said happily. “Wherever did you get it?”

It was our phony line. It was meant for the goons. Scarlet and Luke smiled as Mia and I chatted it up. We talked like strangers first but that didn’t last long. Soon we were chatting away like girlfriends who’ve known each other for years.

I turned to Scarlet after we finished getting our food. “Mia wants to know if I can sit with her.” I asked, pleading.

She smiled. I think she was just happy to see me adjusting and making friends. She nodded but gave me a sly look. I’m not sure if she caught on to our little ruse and frankly I didn’t care.

We sat down at a table far enough away but not too far. Mia kept glancing around, clearly looking for something. When I asked her what it was, she smiled wickedly.

“Robbers of course”.

I kicked her underneath the table and she laughed.

‘By the way, I really do like that top. I’m not sure about the skirt though, I don’t think you have the legs for it.”

I gave her a look and she started to laugh some more. I told her about my morning so far and she frowned. I think she was jealous that I could clear out the stores like that. I told her she could see it herself because I was bound and determined to keep her with me all day. She smiled at that. Something happened between us last night and now we were closer than ever. Before I was a guy and she was my best friend. Now we were both girls and for some reason everything was different. We were still friends like always but it was a different friendship. I’m not sure how to describe it but I felt closer to her somehow. Which didn’t make any sense because I was exactly the same as before---maybe a little more developed---but absolutely the same.

She brought up the superhero think again but I ignored. I forgot how much she liked her comic books. So I changed the subject quickly and asked her the question that I forgot to last night.

“How’s Sandra been?”

Mia was eating some fries and froze in mid-bite. She smiled painfully. “They’re gone. After you disappeared, she went into a bigger funk than me. She stopped eating and talking. She went all zombie like. Her parents kinda freaked and dragged her up north. The last I heard they were living in an Ashram now. No one knows for certain because the place doesn’t believe in technology of any kind.”

I nodded. I thought it might have been something like that. Maybe not as severe but I thought she was too upset to deal. She said her parents were obsessed with that Ashram place too so it didn’t surprise me one bit to hear that they went there.

We talked more about Sandra and then the conversation switched to some of the other kids at the school. I asked about the Memorial she mentioned in her emails, so she told me all about it. I was pretty touched actually, though was a bit annoyed when most of the guy talked about how pretty I had been. Then Mia smiled, meaning she was kidding, and I kicked her again under the table. We laughed again and it felt good. God, I really missed her. I told her that, again and she smiled. She asked me about the island but I was pretty vague. I didn’t really want to talk about it. It was something that one needed to experience and there was no real way to tell someone about it.

“You’re different,” she said as I sipped my chocolate milkshake.

“I’m the same person,” I said then laughed, realizing how wrong that sounded. “Well, partially the same person.”
We laughed again.

Scarlet ruined our fun. She walked over to the table, eyeing us like we were diseased or something. I introduced her to Mia. I accidentally slipped up by calling her my BFF but I don’t think that Scarlet noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything.

“I had to spoil the fun, girls, but Olivia has an appointment that she cannot miss.”

“Mia’s coming with us?”

It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. Scarlet raised her eyebrow at me and I stood my ground. She worked for my grandfather but today she also worked for me. So far, they’d been in control of everything but that ended here. I didn’t live through my parents dying and being stranded on an island to be bossed around. It was time to take a stand somewhere and Mia was where I drew the line. I think I made that very clear in the look I was giving Scarlet.

“Of course she can.”

We left the food court and headed to my appointment. When we got there I groaned, it was the place I’d been dreading: the salon. It was called Madame Zala’s. It was an upper class beauty salon, which also doubled as a spa. I don’t know much about these places and I don’t pretend too. All I know is that as soon as we entered I noticed once again that the place was deserted. There was only one person in the place, a thin, middle aged black woman who I assumed was Zala---though I doubted that was her real name. She led me first into a back room where another younger black woman waited and the two of them proceeded to wax my legs.

I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

After that, I was brought back into the main room where they took care of my hair. They didn’t do much, just gave it a wash, trimmed the split ends and gave me some bangs. Then they made up my face, telling me everything they were doing. When I was done and I saw myself, I was shocked at the pretty blonde girl in the mirror. After me, I made them do the same with Mia. Zala wanted to do something about her hair color but Mia protested. In the end, they just did her make up, too. Both of us refused the manicure they offered. My nails weren’t long enough and Mia had just had her’s done or so she said.

We spent almost two hours in the salon. Zala gave us a lot of free product then we left.

Mia left after that. She was supposed to meet her mother; they were going to a movie. I said good-bye with a hug and said I’d call her later. When she was gone, Scarlet pulled me aside.

“That was your friend who you snuck off to see yesterday?”

I nodded. “You’re not going to tell the old man, are you?”

She smiled. “It will be our little secret.”

We left the mall, several bags heavier than before. When we got back to Q. Towers, it took my grandfather’s staff several trips to get all the bags up to my room, not to mention all the stuff we had had delivered. When I got upstairs myself, my place was filled with boxes and bags. I left them, vowing to put the stuff away tomorrow.

Scarlet mentioned something about a walk-in closet but I was too tired to look. Instead, I crashed on the couch, watching some TV. Mia texted a few hours later, telling me she had a wonderful time and was glad that I’d decided to join the better sex.

That made me groan a bit. It also made me think too. Was I glad? I knew I’d accepted that I could no longer be a boy but was I glad about it? I got off the couch and stripped down to my underwear then stood in front of the mirror. I sure didn’t look like a boy and minus the penis, I looked a lot like a fifteen year old girl---even though I was legally sixteen now. I bit my lip and unclasped my bra. I let it fall gently to the floor. I stared at my bare top half, turning sideways as I did so. I definitely didn’t look like a boy there. I hesitated before I slipped off my panties. When I finally slid them down my legs and stepped out of them, I was a bit surprised. My penis was so small now, like a five year olds. It’d never been big to begin with but I didn’t realize it was that small. I made a mental note to make an appointment with a doctor. Before I hadn’t really paid much attention to all the talk but now I really wanted to know what was going on with me.

I didn’t bother putting my clothes back on. Instead, I went fishing through one of the bags to find one of the bazillion sets of pajamas we bought. I finally found a pair: they were light blue and made of silk. They felt really good on my skin and made my nipples a bit hard. I’m not sure if I liked that but I dealt with it. I cuddled up on the couch and watched TV for the rest of the night.

I think I conked out at about two am.

Chapter Twelve:

Scarlet spent the next few weeks trying to teach me how to be a proper girl. It was kind of grueling but I’m a fast learner---remember, photographic memory. I was reluctant at first but what guy wouldn’t be. First, she taught me how to dress then how to do my own makeup. I learned quickly enough. I’m not saying I was an expert but I was better than I was before. The clothes were a problem at first. I didn’t like skirts and dresses because I hated showing my legs. This wasn’t just a girl thing either. I’ve hated showing my legs ever since I was little. I didn’t mind wearing shorts around the house but going outside with my legs exposed was another thing entirely. I had a hell of a time at the mall but because Mia was there, everything had been all right.

Mia wasn’t here anymore. After I turned her life around, her parents felt she needed some time to reconnect. So a week after our mall trip, they went on an early Winter Vacation, I’m not sure where. Mia didn’t know either but she said they’d be gone for two weeks and that she wasn’t allowed access to anything electronic. It kind of annoyed me to lose my best friend but I knew she’d be back. Scarlet tried her best be a substitute but it wasn’t the same. I liked Scarlet but she was a bit too old to be my temporary best friend. She tried to rectify things by convincing my grandfather to give me more freedom so I could make some new friends but I wasn’t interested.

So while Mia was gone, I poured my heart and soul into my Girl Lessons.

Scarlet brought in an Etiquette Coach, Miss Frost, to teach me the proper way to be a girl. She fit her name well because she was the iciest bitch I’d ever meant. Scarlet said that a young lady who’d been in boarding school most of her life would be very prim and proper. I’m not sure if that was true or not but it didn’t bother me much. I’m not going to bore you with all the etiquette crap but suffice to say I hated it at first. The woman was a cruel taskmaster and didn’t give me any slack. She thought I was an appalling little girl and couldn’t figure out how I didn’t know how to act like a proper one. She called me “boyish” on more than one occasion. I fought her for about a week then gave me and fell in line. It wasn’t that hard but it was embarrassing at first. After another week, Miss Frost announced I was the “best she could get me.” I’m not saying she turned me into the proper young woman but she did fix some of my more “boyish” habits.

Girl Lessons ended when Miss Frost left. But Scarlet still felt I needed a girl education. She bought me all the current seasons of Gossip Girl and 90210 on DVD. She made me watch them. She also gave me loads of books to read, some of them were more current but most were older. I didn’t care for current ones much---who the hell cares about Bella and Edward---but I really loved the older stuff. Jane Austen was now my favorite author and Charlotte Bronte rocked.

Scarlet brought in another girl to help with my mannerisms. She was much younger than Miss Frost, about my age, her name was Clara. She was there to help me talk and think like a teenage girl. She wasn’t in the know but she was told that I was a tomboy coming out of my shell. Clara helped me talk, sit and act like a teenage girl---a proper one anyway. She was pretty cool, a little flighty but cool. WE spent a lot of time together and we became good friends but no one would ever replace Mia. Clara was a different person altogether and I kind of liked that.

Mia contacted me about four weeks later. I was sitting on the couch, painting my nails when my phone buzzed. I cursed, trying desperately to dry my nails so I could see who it was. Why couldn’t there be a speech activated phone or something. I wonder if we could make one of those. I waved my hands back and forth, blowing on them as I did. About ten minutes later, I think they were dry enough to take a peek. It was kind of hard with my new nails---extensions that Clara insisted upon---but I was able to see who sent me the text. I sighed with relief when I saw it was Mia. Now I knew how she felt when I disappeared. I was convinced I’d never see her again.

The text message was short: HEY, BACK TO CIVILIZATION. I SENT YOU SOMETHING, IT SHOULD BE ARRIVING TODAY.

I waited for my nails to truly finish drying, slipped on a pair of backless sandals and ran to the elevator. The trip was slow and boring like usual and I was a bit excited to see what Mia had sent. We didn’t usually buy each other stuff but that was before. Now we had a different kind of relationship. The other day I found this Mia top---something I know she’d wear---and I sent it to her house. When I got down to the lobby finally, the doorman was holding a package.

“Is that for me?” I asked excitedly.

He looked at the label. “It is indeed, Miss Queen.”

I took it from him, thanked him and ran back into the elevator.

Most of the Tower staff knew who I was now. It wasn’t that I liked being here now but I’d adjusted. I wasn’t allowed to leave the Tower without supervision but I was allowed free run of it, save for a few rooms. When I got back into the elevator, I looked up at the new camera and frowned. The new cameras were everywhere now. A week ago, someone set fire to one of our computer factories. The authorities were convinced it was some kids but my grandfather thought otherwise. He was convinced it was industrial sabotage. It would have been an isolated incident except for the fact that smaller things were happening, too. There was an illegal hack a few days before that and just yesterday, someone tried to get into the tower with a gun. That’s the reason why the cameras were everywhere now. We had cameras before but these new ones were more high-tech, they not only videoed people but they also picked up on their body heat and things like that. My grandfather was being extra cautious, especially since the Metahuman Boom started.

Just like Jade predicted, tons of Metahumans were coming out of the woodwork now. Here it was December 10th and already two more have publically made themselves known. One was some red, white and blue girl and another was some crazy girl with a hammer. I only half paid attention to the news stories. I decided that day with Mia that I was giving up my hero moonlighting. I wanted to try to live as normal as a life as possible.

The elevator finally stopped. I sighed and walked to my room. My door was probably the most secure in the whole building. My grandfather beefed up the security last night, wanting to make sure I was the safest I could be. There was a code pad and a retina scanner. It was kind of ridiculous but I guess he was being cautious. I punched in my code, let the thingy scan my eye then went into the room. I guess it’s not really a room, more like my own apartment. When I walked inside, I carried the package over to a little chair I had by the window.

Scarlet and I had it redecorated to my liking. It was a modern looking place now. I had an updated kitchen, age appropriate furniture and the color was a pale blue, which was gender neutral, like I wanted. I decided a while ago that I could be a girl but I didn’t have to be overly girly to be one. Kind of like my bedroom. The pink was all gone. So was all the fluffy girly crap. I had a bed; a normal kind sized one. I had a vanity but it wasn’t on a pink desk. There were no stuffed animals and kitten posters. I didn’t have any posters now. I did have some prints on the wall though; most of them were Van Gogh’s. There were similar pictures on the walls in the rest of my place too. Scarlet wanted to put up some modern art but I don’t like it.

I curled my feet underneath me as I sat in the chair. I took a deep breath and opened the box. As soon as I did, I frowned. I was expecting a cool shirt or even a skirt. What I wasn’t expecting was what was there. I reached into the box and pulled out the hat first. OK, the hat I liked. It was a cool green Robin Hood one, with a real feather and everything. It was a lot like the more I saw in the costume shop in Florida. The rest of the costume, I groaned at. It was a Robin Hood costume, a green dress with a tattered look to it. It looked like something that Errol Flynn would have worn if he’d been a girl. Underneath it was a pair of green leather boots and a note.

I sighed. Mia was making herself known once again. I took out the note and read it aloud.

“OK, I know what you said and I think you’re wrong. Have you been reading the papers lately, there’s super-heroes popping up all over the place. I know they have superpowers and things but you have something they don’t, you have ingenuity. I think you could make a real difference and really help people. That’s why I bought this for you. You don’t necessarily have to wear it but I want you to think about it. There are a lot of people out there that need your help. I know you can’t go toe to toe with some of these super powered madmen but maybe you could help the little guy. You said that’s the reason you pretended to be a hero the last two times. Just give it some thought. Give me a call when you’ve made up your mind, Mia.”

I sighed and put the note back into the box.

I guess I can at least try it on. I took the box and walked into my bedroom. I made sure the blinds were shut and covered the camera I wasn’t supposed to know was there. I stripped to my underwear and slipped the dress over my head. It was a perfect fit; at least Mia got that right. I made sure it was proper but groaned a bit when I saw myself in the mirror. It was a cool shade of green but it was real skimpy. It had no sleeves and the skirt was so short that it barely covered my butt. There was this little belt too and when I tightened it, it made my hips look bigger. I’m not sure if I liked that. But I was being objective here and promised myself to try the whole thing on.

I sat on the bed and slipped on my boots. They were quite comfortable, actually. They had a two-inch heel but that was nothing anymore. I walked around a little bit, getting a feel for them. I put the hat on last but it still didn’t look right. I guess I preferred a hooded cloak. The hat was cool and all but, it made me look like I was trying to be Robin Hood. I didn’t want that. Robin Hood was my idol but I didn’t want people to think I was copying him.

I turned left and right, modeling in the mirror. Miss Arrowette never looked better. I groaned; I had to drop that name. I’d been thinking about it for a while actually. I know I’d agreed not to do the hero thing but it still didn’t mean I couldn’t come up with a cooler name. I thought of it shortly after BB gave me his good luck charm. For the longest time I sat racking my brain when I finally pulled it out from my shirt and rubbed it, pleading for some inspiration. When I looked at the pendant in my hand, it came to me.

Could I do this? Those people on the news were Metahumans. I didn’t have superpowers; I couldn’t compete with them. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t try. Mia was right; I was being foolish. As soon as I looked into the mirror and saw myself, I knew I couldn’t give it up. I’d only done it twice but it felt so good to help those people. I took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror. I walked over to my jeans and took out my phone. I dialed Mia’s number and waited until she answered.

It didn’t take her long. “I just got home, I’m exhausted,” she groaned.

I took a deep breath and laughed. “You’re right and I’m wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, she sounded tired.

“I got your package.”

There was a moment of silence. Then she spoke again. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

I sighed. “I think I want to be a superhero.”

>-------------------------------------------------->

“You’re serious about this?” asked Mia for the umpteenth time.

After my revelation last night, it didn’t take me long to fall to asleep. It was kind of a weight off my chest really. After Mia was done squealing, she called me the bestest friend in the whole wide world. She started rambling on and on about all the cool stuff we could do. She had a list of stuff we needed to get, which included a police scanner, some cool blue-tooth like earpieces and a proper costume. When I mentioned her being my sidekick she laughed and said she was more of a behind the scenes kind of girl. She wanted to talk for hours last night but I was exhausted so I told her to call me in the morning.

Unfortunately, for me, Mia called at seven am.

She repeated the question; her voice was annoying so early in the morning. “Yes, I was serious last night.’

I groaned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I struggled out of bed, trudged out of my room and still half-awake, I wandered into the bathroom. Looking at the girl in the mirror was still a bit shocking but I was kind of used to her now. She was still me after all, just a bit softer here and there. When I first saw my face, I was a bit surprised by it. My features had softened quite a bit and everything went from androgynous to downright girly. It was kind of scary actually. Now as I stared at my reflection, I was having a hard time seeing old Jonas in there at all.

She was still rambling about something but I was barely paying attention. I told her so and she huffed at me. “I was talking about your costume.”

“What’s wrong with the one you sent me?”

She sighed. “That was just to get you motivated. No one would take you seriously running around in something like that. I bought it at a Costume shop…you’d look ridiculous.”

I sighed this time. I wasn’t ready to show that much flesh to the world anyway.

“So what kind of costume do you think I should have?”

That set her off again, chattering a mile a minute. My head was throbbing from her talking so much. I needed to get her off the phone so I could wake up properly. Maybe after a shower and some breakfast, I’d be more receptive to her ideas.

‘Mia” I said, cutting her off in mid-babble. “I need to shower and wake up. Why don’t I send a car for you and we can talk about this in person.”

She squealed real loud. “You mean come there?”

I sighed. She was my best friend, so it was going to have to happen eventually. ‘Yes, I want you to come here and the two of us can discuss this for as long as you want. Give me about an hour to get freshened up and then I’ll send the car.”

“You’re the best friend ever, you know that.”

I nodded. “See you in a couple of hours.”

I ended the call and then made another quick one. I called my grandfather’s Security Chief, Marko, and told him I had a friend coming over in a couple of hours. He said he’d make the proper arrangements and send a car for her. I thanked him and clicked off. Marko kind of scared me. He was this great big mountain of a man, twice the size of normal human beings---or at least he looked it.

Many of the guys on his staff had this really cool nickname for him though, they called him “The Juggernaut” and it fit him to a tee.

After getting off the phone, I stripped out of my PJ’s and got into the shower. Usually I took hot showers but today I needed to wake up.

“Cold” I said in the clearest voice possible.

The shower was automatic and voice activated. There were four showerheads built into the walls and two in the ceilings. I could regulate temperature, intensity and quantity with a few choice words. This morning I wasn’t so picky. The shower was programmed with some of my presets though. When I said cold, I really meant about sixty degrees, which was borderline cold in my book. If I wanted really cold I would have said “Titanic” and the water would have been so fricking cold I’d of been blue by the time I got out.

I showered quickly; the water did the trick and truly woke me up. I dressed quickly too, pulling on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of tight shorts. All I had were small, tight shorts. Most of them were jean but a few were cotton. Apparently, the concept of girls shorts going any lower than mid-thigh was foreign to every designer in the world. After getting dressed, I made breakfast, which would have been really impressive except that it was all microwave-able. Scarlet didn’t like that and frankly, I didn’t care. She’d been trying to get me to eat right and I ate her crap whenever I had too. But I was a teenager and we don’t always eat nutritional things.

After breakfast, I sat on the couch and watched some morning cartoons on the Disney Channel. About an hour or so later, the Intercom buzzed.

“Miss Queen” said a nondescript female voice. “Your guest has arrived.”

My intercom was set up so all I had to do was speak. “Send her up.”

I pushed a button on the remote, switching off my TV and switching on the security footage from the elevator. My grandfather made sure that only he and I could do this. He was still convinced that someone was going to try to go after me again. So he tapped my television directly into the security feed. I could view the video of one camera or split the screen up into multiple views. On the screen right now, was Mia, standing in the elevator, holding a big bag? She looked a bit nervous and I knew why. This place was kind of daunting. I remember my first time coming inside and stepping into that huge elevator. It didn’t help either that Marko was riding it with her. She looked like a doll standing next to him. I smiled, wondering how scared she really was.

I watched until the elevator reached my floor. Then I switched it back to the TV and ran over to the door. Marko had a card that he could swipe and unlock any door in the building. I didn’t like it very much but my grandfather insisted that it was for my own safety. I heard his card swipe and the door clicked open. He opened the door for her, like a gentleman. Mia stood in the threshold for a few seconds, staring at the vastness that was my place. I waved a hand in front of her shocked face and when she didn’t show any sign of responding, I grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room. Marko smiled slightly and closed the door.

Mia fully recovered a few seconds later. “Holy crap, is all of this yours?”

I nodded, still holding her hand. “C’mon I’ll show you around.”

I let her throw her bag on the couch then gave her the quick tour. She was impressed by absolutely everything. But it was the view that did her in. Like me, she absolutely loved it. She stood by one of my large windows and groaned. She pointed out the Golden Gate Bridge and a few other places. Then she pointed off into the distance and jokingly commented about seeing her house from here. We both had a laugh. I finished the tour by showing her my huge bedroom then led her back over to the couch.

“You don’t’ mind if I move in, do you?” she asked jokingly as we sat down.

I shook my head. “I’d love it actually; this place is too big for me. I’m thinking about getting a dog or something.”

We exchanged a few more awkward jokes then got down to business. Mia came prepared. She took a sketchbook and some color swatches out of her bag. I groaned when I saw them. I thought she was kidding about the whole costume thing but apparently, she was being serious. We spent the next couple of hours going through the stuff she sketched up. Besides being a competent computer hacker, Mia was a fantastic artist. Her sketchbook was completely full of different designs, all of them green and most a variation of Robin Hood’s iconic look.

“You’re serious about this?” I asked after looking at the hundredth drawing or so.

She nodded. “Do you realize how much I wanted to be a superhero when I was younger?”

I nodded. Where I was obsessed with Robin Hood, she was obsessed with men in spandex. It was kind of crazy how much she loved them. For a few Halloweens in a row she dressed up as one caped crusader after another. None of the costumes were ever green but they were still pretty cool. All of them had capes though; she was obsessed with the capes. Just like all the drawings in her book, most of them had some kind of cape. I wasn’t digging the cape look though and that’s where we were having problems. We started arguing about it and almost went to blows at one point---we’d never actually get that violent with one another but the possibility was there.

It was one of her last sketches that saved us. It was an all green bodysuit, very sleek and kind of cool. It was all one piece with this wicked arrow pointed straight up on the chest. Instead of a cape though, it had a hooded cloak, very similar to the green tarp I wore to save the people on the ship. When I mentioned it to her, she smiled and nodded. Apparently, she took that into account. She said after scoping out the grainy Miss Arrowette pictures on the Internet she saw how I preferred the hooded look.

“What are those on the arms?” I asked, pointing to the sketch.

“Vambraces” she said sheepishly. “I’m not sure why but I thought they were kind of cool.”

I told her I wasn’t so sure about them and she said they were negotiable.

But we decided right then and there that the costume search was over. This sketch was the winner. To make it official I tore it out of her book and set it on the table. After that, we discussed how to pull it off and I told her I had ways. My expense account was set up to only appear as transactions and never anything specific. Whatever I spent was just numbers in a computer somewhere. So in theory, I could order whatever I wanted and no one would question it. With that in mind, we decided to make the suit out of an ultra-light brand-new material that one of the Queen subsidiaries was developing. It was a substance called Perma-Flex, a bi-weave material being designed for soldiers to wear under their camos. According to reports, it was nearly indestructible, bullet proof from a distance and extremely flexible.

We took my measurements and made an order. We put a rush job on it, hiding it as an R&D test run. We had the hooded cape made of the same stuff but made sure it was lighter and a darker color.

“I assume you’re still going to use the bow?”

I nodded. “It's my signature.”

“Have you thought about sprucing things up a bit?”

She pulled out another sketchbook, this one didn’t have costumes, instead it was full of sketches of arrowheads. There was a bunch of different kinds in there, too many to count. Some of them were absolutely ridiculous but a few of them, like a tazer head, were kind of cool. We decided on several and I made another call. I wanted the heads made out of titanium, it was a bit expensive but it was worth it. I decided the shafts should be carbon and green. It was very important for them to be green.

Mia smiled at that.

“So have you thought of a new name yet?”

I smiled and nodded. “From now on, I’m the Green Arrow.”

-----

Author's Note: Only one chapter in this post. There should be about two more chapters of this story before its finished. Olivia's story won't end there, I have plans for a sequel but it will be a while, there are other things I want to write. I did something cool to the page division too, I'd like to thank mifffh for the help. I have to also thank my editor djkauf and mention once again that DC Comics owns Green Arrow.

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Chapter Thirteen:

It was pouring rain and I was crouched on the corner of the building, staring across the street. I could just see into the window with my trusty binoculars and my target was up to no good. I’d been trailing him for a few city blocks now, staying in the shadows, moving like a cat. I found him by accident, actually. I was browsing through one of the street markets when I noticed him and another guy suspiciously slip down an alley. I watched them disappear but made no move to intercept. How could I, I had Luke and Spencer with me. Luke was a softy and I probably could have sweet-talked him into letting me disappear, but Spencer watched me like a hawk now. He took offense to me ditching him all those weeks ago.

I didn’t get a bead on the guy again until he came back out of the alley, alone. He was a shifty looking sort, dressed in faded jeans and a big coat. He didn’t look too out of place except he was hunched over and had his hands in his pockets. I moved across the street quickly. I pretended to trip---which wasn’t that hard seeing as I was wearing two-inch heels. I fell into him, slipping one of my little tracking dots into his coat pocket. You’re probably wondering about the dots. Mia came up with them a few days after we decided to go into the superhero business together. She got them from some kind of security firm, pretending to be an over-protective mother worried about her teenage daughter. It was amazing what those places did to cater to the super rich.
We bought them in bulk. Mia re-wired them after that---she’s a bit of a geek when it comes to those things. She reworked them so that their signal only went to her software and not theirs. So it looked like she changed her mind and decided not to “bug” her kid. It was kind of cool and it sorta made us feel like spies.

Mia was able to electronically follow the guy around all day. She used her mad computer skills and created a backdoor into one of Queen Industries “communication” satellites. She was able to use the satellite to track our “perp”. All day he was in and out of similar alleys. He always went in with someone and came out alone. His behavior reeked of drug dealing and that was Green Arrow business.

“Is he still in the room?” asked her voice in my ear.

I pressed my throat mike. “Aren’t you the eyes in the sky. Can’t you tell me?”

I smiled. I was enjoying the teasing game the two of us had going. It started about a week ago when I donned my “tights” for the first time. On my first official outing as the Green Arrow, things didn’t really go as planned…

The scanner chirped to life, Mia squealed.

“This is it,” she said, tapping away on the keys of her laptop.

It was a brand new one, the best on the market; it was a gift from me. But all the modifications on it were all hers. I bought it and then had it specifically tweaked. The laptop was now one rad little piece of tech. The R&D guys went nuts when I had it shipped to them and told them what I wanted. They were a little suspicious at first but I told them that it was for private web surfing---everyone in the company knew that the old man kept me on a short leash, one that included monitored Internet usage. The guys were all too happy to help. I’m not sure exactly what they did but now the thing couldn’t be hacked, traced or EMP’ed---whatever that is. They told me it was state-of-art and that was good enough for me.

I looked over her shoulder at the screen and saw a 3D diagram of downtown appear. She made the diagram smaller and brought up several screens, each showing different viewpoints of the road. I realized she’d somehow hacked into the transit mainframe and was watching through the traffic light cameras. In the background, the police radio kept buzzing. There was a high-speed pursuit in progress; the suspect robbed a bank by tearing the doors off its hinges, grabbing everything he could carry and then walking right out the front door. The security guard tried to stop him but the bullets actually bounced off his body.

“He’s going into the warehouse district now,” she said as she typed and brought up another screen.

The image filled the whole laptop, revealing a large warehouse where a red Volvo pulled up too. A large man wearing a black ski mask climbed out of the little car, holding a large bag on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Behind him, four police cars squealed into the frame. Two officers got out of their cars, pointing their guns at him, shouting at him. The guy set the bag down gently, grabbed the bumper of the Volvo and tossed it like it was made of tissue paper.

The car smashed down on the two cars that the officers just exited.

“That guy’s fricking huge” I said, flabbergasted “did you see what he did to that car?”

Mia smiled. “He’s perfect. If you can prove to the world that you can take him down, then everyone will know that you mean business.”
“I’m an archer, Mia; my arrows will bounce right off that guy.”

She smiled. “Normal arrows maybe but not your arrows.”

My arrows came a couple of days ago. They weren’t fully titanium but they were close enough. The heads were anodized to look green, which fit in real well with me. There were thirty-six to begin with, six broad-heads, six bodkins, six blunts, and twelve arrows that Mia affectionately called “trick” arrows. Those were the ones I wasn’t so sure about but she was convinced that they’d make all the difference. The arrows were stored in a hard black case, which I kept hidden at the bottom of my new trunk. The trunk we bought online, it looked like a normal clothes trunk except it had a false bottom. It was in this false compartment that we decided to hide my arrows and my costume. My bow we left out in the open, it was my usual X-Appeal but we spray painted the whole thing green.

“How are my arrows going to take him down?”

On the screen, the cops had opened fire and the bullets weren’t doing a thing. There were more police cars there now but they were keeping their distance. The big brick house of a guy swatted the bullets away like they were flies. Then he picked up his bag and stomped into the warehouse. The police didn’t follow---who would.

“Your normal broad-heads won’t but try the number fives, they pack quite a punch.”

Mia made up both of our minds right then and there. I was going out to take on this guy and there was nothing I could do to change her mind. So I sighed and went along with it. It didn’t take me long to suit up. The Perma-Flex was a little uncomfortable and a bit chaffing in the crotch but it fit like it was supposed to. I put on my boots, my gloves and Mia helped with the hooded cape. We added a mask to our design a day after our brainstorming session, we both agreed we didn’t want anyone knowing who I was. It didn’t cover my whole face, just my eyes, kind of like the Zorro mask I wore at the mall.
When I was all suited up, I stared at myself in the mirror and groaned. “I look like Kermit the Frog.”

She smacked my arm.

That’s all the motivation I needed. I took a deep breath, loaded all thirty-six arrows into my quiver then grabbed my bow. I asked her about leaving the building and she said she had it all worked out. She tapped away on the keys again and smiled. Apparently, she got into the building security mainframe and tricked the cameras into playing a continuous loop of empty hallways and an empty elevator. I was free to move about the building without the cameras picking me up. When I asked about actual people, she smiled. She thought of that too. She created some kind of plumbing emergency on one of the top floors, which had drawn a lot of the personnel to keep it under control.

“You have about twenty minutes to get out of the building.”

I ran out of the room and into the elevator. Time was tight; the elevator ride alone was at least ten. I didn’t even get to ride it all the way to the lobby either. Mia stopped it at the second floor and told me to take the stairs. Apparently, she unlocked one of the emergency exits. I ran down the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. When I pushed open the door to the outside, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I didn’t have my license yet. My grandfather was being stingy about it. He made me sixteen to make me seem more mature---his words, not mine---and yet he refused to let me drive. He was afraid I’d get hurt or something.

So I was kind of surprised to see a black sedan waiting for me. I was even more surprised when Luke got out of the driver’s side. He looked at me and smiled.

“I can explain,” I said, and he laughed.

“My lips are sealed, Miss Queen.”

Chalk one up to Mia. I ran into the car as he opened the door for me. I got into the back and kept low as we drove away. Luckily, for me the windows were tinted black. We drove at the speed limit, the last thing we needed was to be caught by the police. When we got close to the warehouse district, a police officer on foot stopped the car. Up ahead I could see the commotion. There was a large crowd gathered around the police barricade. I saw at least four news vans, several reporters and two helicopters buzzing overhead, one of them was the police.

Luke wasn’t allowed to go any further so he backed up a bit. He pulled into a side alley where I got out of the car and decided to go on foot. The warehouse buildings were real close together so it would be easy enough to get from one to the other. I decided to take the high road. I climbed the fire escape on the side of the building, my body as shaky as the metal staircase that I was ascending. When I reached the top, I moved quickly across the roof, stopping at the edge to get my bearings. The warehouse that the police were surrounding was across the street. The two buildings were so close that I could almost jump across.

But I had other problems; there were three police snipers up here with me. Luckily, their backs were to me but it was only a matter of time before they saw me. I bit my lip and cursed.

“There’s only three,” squawked Mia’s voice in my ear.

“Easy for you to say, Speedy.”

“Try number three.”

I reached into my quiver and searched for the arrow she mentioned. We named all the trick arrows to make it easier to use them. Number three was one of the ones that I was most familiar with because it was the hardest to perfect. When we first came up with the trick arrows, it was one of the first ones we thought up. I made it very clear that I didn’t want to hurt anyone. So far, I’d been able to get away with winging my opponents, hitting them in non-vital places but the idea didn’t sit well with me. It made me feel like I was hunting them. So we devised the arrows to make them so I could subdue my opponents without ever truly hitting them.

Number three was a gas arrow.

I pulled it from the quiver and aimed at the wall in-between two of the three snipers. I fired and kept my distance as the arrow did its trick. We originally envisioned it as an arrow that had a gas canister instead of an arrowhead but it would have been too heavy to fire. So instead, we came up with an arrowhead that was a small gas canister itself. When it impacted with a hard surface, the head erupted and gas spilled out. The head was a bit bigger than the other heads, making it a little harder to fire, so compensation was needed. I practiced a few times with some dummy arrows and I think I got it down pretty good.
When the arrow hit the wall between the police snipers, the effect was instant. There wasn’t much gas but enough to startle someone. My original idea was to put someone out with it but we both decided that was ridiculous and impossible. So while the three of them were coughing and gagging, I took off at a run. I went right between them, leaped over the side of the building and onto the roof of the other in one large bound.

I landed on the balls of my feet and took off at a run. The warehouse roof was flat and I ran with as little noise as possible---BB taught Roy and me how to do that. A little hatch led inside. It wasn’t too heavy so I was able to lift it and slip inside without too much of a problem. I landed on a catwalk, kicking up a whole lot of dust. I gagged and put a hand over my mouth to suppress a cough. Below me, I saw the big guy stomping around, arguing with someone on the phone. I got a good look at him, without his mask, and I groaned.

Calling him a guy was an understatement. The man below me was as far from a guy as I was. He was some kind of monster. He was completely bald, looked to be about seven foot and was as wide as a truck. But it was his skin that made him look so freakish, it wasn’t normal like everyone else’s, it was red. In fact, it looked a lot like brick. Just great, I found myself some kind of freakish brick dude.

“I don’t care what you say, I did the job, so the cash is mine!” he angrily shouted into the phone, his voice was grating and sounded like gravel.

He crushed the phone in his hand and threw the twisted remains onto the ground at his feet.

I took a deep breath. Someone once said, “The best plan is to have is none at all”. I’m not sure who said it but they’d clearly never seen a brick man before. I nocked one of my normal arrows, a broad-head, thinking maybe I can get him in a vulnerable spot. I crouched low on the catwalk, took aim for one of his feet and fired. My plan was to put the arrow it one of the crevices between his toes. But plans only looked good in the head sometimes. The arrow found its mark but the titanium crumpled on his foot like it was made of aluminum foil. I cursed. The Brick man snapped around, spotting me instantly.

“What the hell are you supposed to be?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I nocked another arrow and let it fly. My hope was to hit him in the eye but it crumpled again. He looked a bit annoyed after that. There was a large metal barrel nearby. He grabbed it and threw it at me before I knew it was coming. It smashed into the catwalk, tearing into the spot I was only moments before. I’m not sure what happened exactly. I should have been creamed by the barrel but somehow I dodged it. For a second there I saw it moving real slow in the air and I was able to time myself to move out of the way. It was just like the time I fought those guys on the cruise ship.

The Brick---let’s call him that---laughed. ‘You’re a Meta aren’t you?”

No, I’m not, that’s crazy.

He laughed as he continued, grabbing another barrel. “I read in the news that we’ve been popping up all over the place. I’ve been keeping taps on the police bands, wondering if another one would pop up in the city.”

He threw the second barrel. Once again, I saw it coming and it somehow slowed down. I was able to move out of the way before it smashed into another part of the catwalk. Everything creaked and groaned. Two sections of the catwalk were smashed to pieces; it would never be able to take another blow. I had to get off it and fast. I looked around, trying to figure out my best choice. I couldn’t jump because the fall would kill me. There were some metal beams crisscrossing the ceiling but I wondered if I could jump up there before he threw another barrel.

I need a grappling gun or something.

I took a chance and jumped straight up. It was a good choice because a third barrel slammed into the spot where I’d just been crouching. The catwalk gave out finally; groan, then it came crashing down to the floor. I used the noise and the confusion to pull myself up onto the beam. A close of smoke and dust rose from the mangled wreckage. The Brick started to cough and gag, giving me the needed time to plan a proper strategy. I knew my normal arrows were worthless. I could continue firing them but that would only piss him off. So I’d have to rely on my trick arrows and I only had eleven of those left. I need to bring more of those and less of the normal.

I tapped my throat mike, trying to see if I could raise Mia. We decided on radio silence during missions unless it was absolutely necessary. I tried to raise her but all I got was static from my earpiece. Apparently, the warehouse walls were causing some kind of interference. So I’m on my own, which arrow did she say to use? I counted them off in my head, trying to remember what each did. When I got to six, I sighed. It was our pride and joy but it was completely dangerous.

‘You’re a wily one,” shouted the Brick, once the dust had cleared. “I could use someone like you. Why don’t you drop this hero thing and join me. I’ll give you an even share of the loot, how does seventy thirty sound?”

I groaned. This guy was unbelievable. I still didn’t respond to his taunts. Instead, I decided to speak with actions. I nocked the arrow, aimed at the floor by the son of a bitch’s feet and prayed. I let it lose and grabbed the support of the beam, holding on tight. When the arrow hit the ground, it exploded, sending concrete and dust flying into the air. It was quite a bang, louder and more potent than I thought it was. Number six was our explosive arrow; the head was hollowed out and packed tightly with plastique. It wasn’t enough to be too dangerous but it was enough to blow a wall to smithereens, as well as a human I suppose. Number six was a last resort, to use only when nothing else worked.

Through the smoke and the dust, I heard the laughter.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Is that all you got?” he shouted, stepping from the wreckage without even a scratch.

There was a big hole in the floor; a water pipe had actually burst, spewing water all over the place. The Brick was completely unharmed. His clothes were tattered and in shambles and his brick-like skin was a bit scorched but his body was absolutely fine. He shook off a bit, brushing dust and cement debris from his shoulder. Then he grabbed another barrel and let it fly toward me. It slammed into the metal beneath my feet but the beam was a lot stronger than the catwalk.

Instead, the barrel exploded on impact, sending a gooey paste all over me. I gasped and slipped, losing my footing. When I fell, I half expected to hit the ground but I didn’t. Instead, I landed in his large hands. He cradled me to the floor and left me lying there. HE stood over me, staring down with the biggest smirk on his face.

“I may be the bad guy here but I’m no monster”. He looked me up and down and laughed. “You’re just a little girl, aren’t you?”

I kicked to my feet. I never wanted to get close enough for them to discover my true gender. I scrambled away but it was hard because I was covered with the gooey stuff. It was sticky too and made it hard to walk. It clung to my body, covered my face, got in my hair. That made me groan a bit, signifying that I truly was a girl after all. I pulled some of the stuff off my chest, trying to see what it was that I was covered in. I gasped; it was glue. I looked at the barrels; there were hundreds of them all around me. I suddenly realized where I was: this was an old glue factory warehouse. I remembered a story about it on the news. The glue factory closed and they moved something like five hundred barrels of the left over stuff here for storage.

I tried to use my bow but my hands were too slick and slimy.

Brick laughed and walked toward me but even he was having problems. The glue was all over the floor now and he was slipping and sliding too. I watched him, seeing how he lumbered about, trying to lift up his feet but unable to do so because the ground was too slick. It gave me an idea. I slipped and slid over to a stack of boxes. I ripped one open and saw small cans of industrial strength glue. I hefted one in my hand; it had the weight and size of a softball. It was a long shot but it was the best thing I had.

Brick wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. He was giving problems of his own. The glue hardened fast. It would have made me all stiff but my costume was made with a different polymer than everything else, it was meant to be versatile and that apparently include being glue proof---good to know. Brick was not so lucky. His body was already started to freeze up. Apparently, my exploding arrow blew up more than the floor, because Brick was covered in glue, everywhere except his head of course. That’s what I aimed for when I threw my can.

It hit him in the face and exploded, just like I thought it would. His entire head was covered in it. I didn’t stick around to see how things went. I slipped and slid toward the door of the warehouse, opening it up a bit. Police lights and camera lights were on me in a heartbeat. A couple of police officers came forward but kept their distance.

“Hold it right there” said one of the nearest officers.

I raised my hand, showing him I meant him no harm. “I stopped the Brick dude but you better hurry because I’m not sure how long that stuff is going to hold him.”

The officers were stunned for a few seconds but they snapped to it pretty quickly. They forgot about me for a moment as they rushed into the warehouse. I used that confusion as my time to escape. I slipped along the outside wall and ran for the alley in-between the two buildings. There were a lot of flashes and several of the reporters shouted at me but I ignored them. I turned only when someone asked my name. I wasn’t going to let them call me Miss Arrowette anymore.

“I’m the Green Arrow” I said and then ran off down the alley.

Luke was waiting for me, leaning against the car when I arrived. He gave me a strange look and I gave him one back. Neither of us said anything as we got into the car. I told him to take me home and we did so quickly. Mia’s voice came back on the earpiece, asking me how things went. I ignored her as I took a few deep breaths. When I finally responded I told her under no circumstances, was I ever going up against a Metahuman again!

The fight with Brick was a week ago. I’d already learned so much from it. For starters, I made sure, if I was going up against a Meta before I went to the rescue, that way I could come better equipped to fight. Mia also thought it might be a good idea to know exactly who or what I was up against before I actually went off to the rescue, too. She started making an extensive database, compiling information on the all the known Metas and doing some research to see if she could find ones that the world didn’t know about yet. The Database was still in the early stages but it was coming along…the only info in it at the moment was about the heroes on the scene but it was good to have. You never knew when something like that might come in handy.

I shifted my position, trying to get some feeling back in my cramped limbs. The drug dealer was still across the street, trying to peddle his wares to a twenty something year old girl. The two of them were in the midst of an argument at the moment. No drugs had been passed between the two of them yet but as soon as they did, I’d strike.

The drug dealer was my third or fourth mission now. After getting in way over my head with Brick, I toned things down a bit. The other couple of missions were miniscule; I captured a purse-snatcher and foiled a few robberies. But none of those made it into the news, at least not the big networks.

My fight with Brick made national news and was in the papers the next day. Everyone was praising the Green Arrow for heroism and bravery. The only one who seemed to make the connection between her and Miss Arrowette was a certain reporter with the initials L.L. She was going to be a problem, she really needed a hero of her own to bug. Fortunately, Miss Arrowette was old news. Everyone wanted to know about the new kid in town. I wasn’t ready for interviews yet. I don’t think I ever will be either. I didn’t want to pour my heart and soul out to the masses like some of the other heroes on the scene. I’d liked being the mysterious loner; it had a certain appeal to it.

‘Anything yet?” asked Mia, she sounded kind of annoyed.

She was as bored as I was. After tagging the guy earlier today, she’d spent the whole day tracking him. The drug dealer lived a boring life, besides his job of course. All he did was go from place to place, making mysterious deals. We weren’t even sure he was a drug dealer but he was clearly doing something illegal. Mia was hoping for a big score. We both were. This would probably be my last mission for a while; I was shipping out to Elias in a few days. Winter Break was over and school was starting in a few days. Neither one of us was stoked because it meant our hero business was over for now. Elias was about fifty miles north of the city, too far for us to have contact anymore---at least of the physical kind.

Mia tried to convince her parents to send her there as well but she missed the transfer deadline. We still had emails and phones to communicate with but it wasn’t the same. I’d just found my best friend again and it sucked that in a week or so the two of us would be parting. But we were planning to make the most of the time, besides the superhero stuff of course.

‘I feel like I should be wearing black, skulking in the shadows like this,” I said, trying to stay out of the glare of the street lamp that was about five feet away.

We decided it would be best if I tried to take this guy at night. Being a girl dressed all in green kind of drew a lot of unwelcome attention. But at night, I could hide in the shadows and wait there until the time to strike.

“What do you see?”

I sighed. She had an eye in the sky but apparently, it didn’t enable her to see into buildings. Queen-Scope 1 was a communication satellite or at least it was on paper. I’m not sure what it was really used for because that was classified but Mia seemed to think it was something notorious. It was no secret that the old man helped the government from time to time. But what the extent of that help is was anyone’s guess. It was surely enough to tap into security footage from pretty much anywhere, something that Mia was capable of doing with a few keystrokes.

I was about to tell her I saw nothing when it actually happened. The guy reached into his pocket and handed something to the girl. I smiled, that was my cue. I reached into my quiver and pulled out a Number Three. I aimed through the window, for the far wall, a spot right between the two of them. I fired as soon as the bag passed hands. The arrow hit the far wall and ruptured. The gas poured into the room, a little off-color puff. The two of them started to gag and choke. It was enough to get the two of them to run to one of the other windows. The girl got there first, opening it off, coughing. She was a bleached blonde with her roots showing and far too much makeup. The dealer followed a few seconds later.

I was actually perched on the fire escape across the alley. It wasn't the greatest spot to hide but at this hour, I was practically invisible---at least if you weren’t really looking. As soon as they stuck their heads out of the window, both of them saw me. I’m not sure which one was more shocked. We stared at each other for several seconds before the woman screamed. That snapped whatever shock they were in. The dealer reached by pulling his gun, I reacted by firing a blunt. I was faster, much faster. Long before he pulled the trigger, I put the arrow down the barrel of his gun. When he pulled a few seconds later, the gun erupted in his hand.

He screamed, dropping his little pistol. The woman screamed too and slammed the window as she and the dealer stumbled back into the room.

“Damn” I cursed.

“What is it?”

“Complications.”

I took a deep breath and jumped across the alley. I landed on the other fire escape but just barely. I misjudged the distance and nearly tumbled to the street below. I caught myself, wavering a bit but I pulled myself together. On the other side of the window, inside the apartment, both of them were panicking. The woman was hysterical; the dealer was rolling around on the ground, clutching his hand. Neither one was paying much attention to me anymore. I used that to my advantage.

I slammed my elbow into the glass, shattering it. Boy did that fricking hurt. The woman screamed and ran for the door. It was heavily locked, there had to be at least ten different bolts and deadlocks. The dealer recovered enough to get to his feet. He didn’t make for the door though; instead, he grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a lamp. He came at me with it, catching me off guard. I was the arrow girl, not the super fighter. The lamp hit me in the shoulder, knocking me from the window. Fortunately, I fell forward, into the room. The dealer came down on me with his foot, slamming it into my back.

I rolled my body, knocking him off his feet with my momentum. I pushed myself to my feet about the same time he did. He came at me with a left jab. I don’t know if I told you this but I’m a slight person and even though I was pretty buff from my island regimen, being hit in the face still hurt like hell. I stumbled back, nearly falling over the ugliest footstool I’d ever seen. The dealer came at me again but this time my body reacted. His next swing came in slow motion. I was able to dodge it but I didn’t see the woman. She must have gotten over her screaming fit because she came at me with a broken bottle.

I put up my arm just in time; the bottle grazed the suit but didn’t cut it. Perma-Flex was tough stuff. I grabbed her wrist, pulled her toward me and pushed her away. I did it all in one motion but it still was pretty clumsy. She fell backwards, landing on the couch. The dealer used that as a distraction and came at me again. He had a knife this time. He slashed at me but the cape caught most of it. The blade sunk into the Perma-flex, I twisted my body and pulled the knife from his hand. He looked a little shocked. It was long enough for me to punch him in the face. It wasn’t a very strong punch but it was enough. He stumbled back on to the couch, landing next to the woman. His head fell into her lap, but he didn’t get back up. I guess it paid not to be a junky. The woman stared daggers at me. I ignored her as I pulled some plastic ties from my belt and secured the dealer’s hands behind his back.

“You can’t just barge in here” she snapped, “This is my home.”

I groaned. I punched her in the face. It wasn’t exactly subtle but she went out faster than the dealer. I tied her hands behind her back too. I pulled out my scrambled cell phone and made an anonymous call to the police. I told them the address and said there was a surprise waiting for them. The dispatcher wanted more but I hung up before she got anything out of me. I left the same way I came. I thought about retrieving my arrow but where was the fun in that. Besides, I wanted the police to know that I’d done this. What other way would people know the good things that I’d done. I thought it was pretty mysterious.

I climbed out the window and jumped across to the other fire escape. Luke was parked a few blocks over, I told him to keep the car warm for me. I climbed to the roof and walking toward the other end when I noticed something a bit odd. It was a sense of being watched. I pulled an arrow from my quiver, snapped around and was seconds from firing. The arrow actually left my bow but it got no further than a few inches before it was enveloped it a bright green glow.

My mouth dropped open, stunned to see my arrow suspended in air.

“Hi there” said the glowing girl floating about five feet above my head. “I think you and I need to talk.”

I gulped. “Holy Hannah.”

-----

Author's Note: Here's the end of the story. Its told in a couple of flashbacks but it doesn't take away from the story. Its left open for a sequel but that's still a long way coming, I've got three stories I want to write beforehand. I'd like to thank my wonderful editor djkauf and DC Comics for allowing me to use their wonderful character.

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Chapter Fourteen:

I held the little green ring in my palm, staring at it. It was such a simple little thing, hardly the all-powerful thing she said it was. Why she gave it to me I’m not sure, but she seemed to think that it would help me out. She told me all about it, even after I refused it. Why did I refuse it? It still haunted my thoughts, much like everything of the last few days. How could everything go from the greatest time of my life to the worse? I’ve heard of things going downhill fast but I think the last couple of days was some kind of world record. First, it was the thing with Jade and then everything seemed to spiral out of control. I wanted to cry but no tears would come.

I bit my lip, it was the best I could do. I had the worst luck in the world. It seemed that God hated me and only wanted to see me suffer. Why was it that there were people out there that only had good things happen to them. Then there was someone like me and all I got were the bad things. First, it was my parents, then getting stranded on that island. Then this…I squeezed my eyes but the tears still wouldn’t come. They say one bad thing happens; many others follow. Ever since getting on that boat with my parents, there seemed to be nothing but bad things. I helped with some of them but there were those select few that just seemed to slip through my fingers.

I sighed, staring out the window as rain drummed on the roof of the limo. It was a miserable day but I think that was a given. It started raining last night and had yet to let up. On the news, they were already talking about flooding. They showed a neighborhood where the water was washing over people’s lawns; some of it was even flooding a few basements. I sighed again; wishing water was my only problem. Flooding I could deal with, everything else not so much.

I closed my hand on the ring. I was doing so well at the beginning of the week too, but I couldn’t help but think, why didn’t I take her up on her offer?

“You’re a hard girl to find, Miss Arrow,” said Jade as she hovered to the ground, a smile on her face.

All I could do was stand there and stare. She was here; she was actually standing before me. I lowered my bow and gulped, I almost shot the Green Lantern. She caught it of course but that wouldn’t have stopped me. If I hadn’t looked I would have kept firing and no one is that fast, not even me. Then again, she did have that freaky alien ring helping her.

Jade stood in front of me, crossing her arms but not in a threatening manner. She was taller than me, but most people were. She was a bit older too, I’d say about eighteen or so. She was prettier in person though. Her tight outfit really hugged her curves and made her by far the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. There was no way I could pull something like that off. My Perma-flex was tight but she looked like hers was painted on. I had to shy away a bit because it was a bit too tight in some places. How the hell could she move?

I finally found my voice. “You were looking for me?”

She smiled. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself in the last few months.”

Months, how much did she know?

She seemed to sense my thoughts. “First there was that thing on the cruise ship then that incident in the mall.” I nodded numbly. “You kind of disappeared a bit after that but you came out of hiding to help your friend in the forest.”

I interrupted her there. “You saw that?”

“I’ve been watching you since Florida, trying to discern if you were a threat or not.”

“What did you discover?”

“You’re smart, brave and loyal. You don’t want to get involved but somehow you can’t stand idly by when people are in trouble…those are all good qualities by the way” She smiled again; she had really nice teeth. “You’ve also been a little busy these past few days.”

I groaned. It kind of freaked me out a bit that she’d been watching me. What was so special about me anyway?

“Your fight with Daniel Brickwell was really impressive, it showed your resourcefulness.’

I nodded. “I wasn’t prepared for a Meta.”

“None of us are but it happens.”

She started talking about a couple of my smaller things too. Which brought her up to date now. The two of us were on the roof, staring one another down. I could still hear the police sirens only a few feet away and the copters were still circling. Neither of them were anywhere near us, which I was thankful for. I wasn’t ready to be on CNN, at least not on the interview end of things. I didn’t want to be one of those media mongers, trying to get my face all over the news---I think I already covered this once already.

She looked at my bow and smiled. “You skill with that is exceptional, beyond human in fact.”

“Just human” I added quickly.

She nodded. “And those arrows, did you design them or was it Miss Dearden?”

How the hell does she know these things? I didn’t like people poking into my business. I guess I was a little defensive, but you would be too if you grew up like me. Besides, I was getting kind of tired of the old man and all his spying too. I caught one of his goons lingering around my door the other day. He claimed he was just walking by when I confronted him. But I’d seen him before too, he was some kind of tail. He was there when Luke took me to the mall to get more clothes a few days ago and when we stopped for lunch; he slipped into the back of the restaurant. It bothered me that my grandfather didn’t even trust me when I was with his own people.

“You seem to know a lot about me?”

She held up her hand, clenched in a fist, so her ring was visible. “It's all thanks to this thing. No one’s secrecy is safe when the Ring is involved.”

“That’s comforting.”

She laughed. “I didn’t mean to be so invasive but I had to make sure you weren’t trying to get attention so you could spy on me later.”

“I have no reason to spy on you.”

“It's happened before.”

I understood her paranoia. I’d be a little paranoid too; there were a lot of people out there who wanted to know everything they could about these Metahumans. Just the other day there was some nut on the news going on and on about the Metas being a threat to humankind. He seemed convinced that they were somehow connected to global and domestic terrorism. He was petitioning Congress to let him great some kind of Metahuman Regulation Task-force or something. The newscaster thought he was a nut too, but she kept her cool. I was watching it with my grandfather at the time, during dinner, it was one of the only times the two of us spent together. He made a comment about the man, saying something about Bolivar Trask once being a very well respected pioneer in Robotics engineering before all this Metahuman business.

He wasn’t the only one, though. There were a lot of people out there ready to put the Metas on the chopping block, Lex Luthor being one of them.

Jade interrupted my thoughts. “I was wondering if there was somewhere else you’d like to go so we could talk more privately.”

I looked behind her. The copters were still circling but they seemed to be changing direction, coming our way. I cursed; it was only a matter of time before they noticed us. I thought about shooting out their lights but that wouldn’t really solve anything. Instead, I just nodded and pointed to where I knew Luke was parked. Jade followed me. I led her down the other side of the building and through the meandering alleyways. The news copter was the only one who followed us but we lost it when I took a couple of sharp turns. Finally, we came upon the sedan; Luke was sitting in the driver’s seat, reading the paper.
Jade put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me at the end of the alley.

‘I think this is private enough.”

“Luke’s okay, he’s on my side. He and Mia are the only ones who know.” Then I remembered my open comm. link. I tapped my throat mike. “Are you listening, Speedy?”

All I got was static.

“I jammed the transmission before I arrived. No offense but your friend would have recorded our conversation and I can’t have that.”

I nodded but it kind of ticked me off. I hated keeping things from her.

I wanted to tell her off but I was intrigued. It’s not every day that a superhero seeks you out. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

“As I’m sure you probably know, I’ve been gathering a lot of Metahumans as of late and recruiting them to join me, sort of a joint venture if you will.”
Was she asking me to help her? “I’m not a Meta.”

Her eyes narrowed. She paused for a second, nodded her head slightly and spoke. “Are you sure about that?”

“Pretty certain.’

“I’d like to take you to my ship and run some tests to make sure. You’ve got an uncanny skill with that bow, far superior to any human. It’s likely that you have some metagenes and you don’t know about it.”

I stepped back from her. There was no way I was a Meta-anything. I was human, there was no way anyone was going to convince me otherwise. I didn’t hate the idea of being a Meta, but it scared me a bit. I was hoping that my skill was just that, a skill. It bothered me to think of it as something that came to me all of the sudden. Being human kept me grounded, kept me connected to the people I was helping. The people that needed me to help them. It was great and all, running around the world, stopping super powered freaks with laser beam eyes and things like that. But what happened to the little people, the ones that Metas didn’t bother. There were still crimes out there, normal everyday human crimes. No one was helping to stop those.

‘Why are you so interested in me?”

“I want you to join me and the others. I think you can help us make a difference. There are a lot of bad things and bad people in the world. Someone with your skill could be a real asset to my team.”

“I can’t go to your ship,” I told her honestly. “It was a nice offer but I think I have to decline on principle. One of us needs to be grounded. You guys fight freaks and monsters. You travel around the world, diverting natural disasters and stopping terrorists. Me, I’m a kid with a bow and I want it to stay that way.”

She nodded. “You’re much more than that too.”

“I can’t, the people need me here. I’m sure there a lot of people out there that want to join your group, that actually belong there but I’m not one of them.”

She nodded. “I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

She reached into her pocket, one that I didn’t even know she had and she pulled out a green ring. It wasn’t identical to hers but it was pretty close. She held it out to me and I took it reluctantly. I stared at it for a few seconds, trying to figure out what she wanted me to do with it.

“We use them for communication mostly,” she said as she began to glow. She floated into the air. “If you change your mind, put on the ring and I’ll come as soon as I can.”

She rose into the air and floated out of sight.

I opened my hand and looked at the ring again.

The encounter with Jade was three days ago. I thought long and hard about it for quite a while. I’m not sure why I declined exactly but I felt it was the right thing to do. I wasn’t cut out to be a hero like the rest of them. I was a hero, sure, but I wasn’t one of them. They were all special, they had super abilities, could do things that I could only dream of doing. Me, I was a kid with a bow. Yeah, so maybe I was a little faster than most kids my age. Maybe I could hit a bull’s-eye every time I fired but that didn’t make me super by any means. It just made well practiced.

I closed my hand and sighed.

After Jade had left, Mia was pretty frantic. She thought maybe I’d been caught by the cops or something. She was really scared when she lost both radio and visual. She went on and on for a while about it, not letting me get a word in edgewise. When I finally spoke, I told her about Jade. She shut up pretty quickly. Then she asked when we got to tour the ship. She wasn’t real happy when I told her I turned down the offer. She wasn’t pissed but she was kind of grumpy with me. She told me that I’d just screwed the opportunity of a lifetime but I didn’t see it that way.

I should have seen it that way.

After turning Jade down, things fell apart. I’d like to say they were gradual but that was a lie. They happened all in one big swoop. First, it was Luke. He seemed liked a pretty trustworthy guy but apparently he was just like all the others.

There was a knock on my door, interrupting my dark spawn slashing. I left the controller sitting on the couch and stood up. I looked down at myself and groaned; I wasn’t really dressed for guests. I quickly scrambled around the room, looking for my pants. I think I might have mentioned once or twice that I sleep in my underwear on more than one occasion. Last night when I got back from meeting with Jade, I was so sore and bruised from my fight with the drug dealer that I could barely walk. The Perma-flex did a good job protecting me but it didn’t make me impervious to pain---how cool would that be though. Instead, it sort of absorbed it but it suppressed nothing.

When I stripped out of my uniform last night, I was bruised from head to toe. They were those huge ugly ones too. Every time I moved, they hurt. I managed to barely get the outfit off before I stumbled into the bathroom. I drew myself a nice hot bath, with lots of bubbles. It was a girly thing but I’d embraced it wholeheartedly. I’d embraced most of the feminine lately and you know what, I kind of liked it. I’m sure my mother would have been proud to hear that. I soaked in the water for hours, letting it wash away the pain. It helped a little. When I actually went to sleep, it was in only a t-shirt and underwear.
So now here I was, frantically trying to find something to wear so I wasn’t indecent. I found a pair of track pants underneath the couch and pulled them on. It was just in time too because whoever was at the door got impatient and opened it on their own. I wasn’t looking at the door; I was busy shutting the game off.

“This is how you’ve been living these past couple of months” His voice was cold and judgmental, just like always.

I turned and saw my grandfather standing in the doorway. He was eying my place with contempt. It was the first time he’d actually been here. It was actually the first time I’d seen him in a couple of weeks. He didn’t look so good. He was kind of pale and much thinner. He was leaning on his cane, Locke standing close behind him.

I wasn’t in the mood to trade barbs with him today so I’d tried to be civil. “I call it organized chaos.”

It was a mess. My clothes were all strewn about, empty Chinese takeout and pizza boxes were scattered all over the floor. There was this smell too, I’m not sure where it was from but no amount of air freshener seemed to get rid of it. Hey, I may have looked and even acted like a girl but I was still a guy in my head. I was a bit of a slob, which always used to drive my mother nuts.

My grandfather walked into the room; over to the little table I had by one of the windows. Locke followed closely behind, handing him the early edition of the Daily Planet. I caught a glimpse of the headline: GREEN ARROW STRIKES AGAIN. There was a picture of the interior of the woman’s house, both the drug dealer and her bound on the couch. Underneath it was a close up shot of one of my arrows. I smiled; it worked out just as I planned. My grandfather didn’t look at the paper; instead, he eyed me up and down.

“How have your studies been progressing?” he asked, fingering the pile of books on the table.

They were all books he assigned me to read. Most of them were schoolbooks, to catch up on my work and make sure I was ready for classes when I went back. The rest of them were books on business and law and economics. He was clearly trying to make me into something I wasn’t, which was a junior him. I read the books though, in fact I absorbed them. They were boring but they were informative. I think I knew more about business than anyone on the planet. At least that’s what it felt like.

“Things are going well,” I said, sitting in the chair across from them.

I looked at the paper again, seeing the byline underneath the article. Damn Lois Lane again. Is there a story out there that she doesn’t snag?

“And your friend, Miss Dearden, how’s she doing?”

I groaned. He really was spying on me. At first, I thought I was being a little paranoid but know I knew. I felt my anger flare a bit. I gripped the edge of the table. I wanted this to be civil but he started it. I hoped he remembered that.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“We both know you know that. So don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

I nodded. “You don’t trust me enough to make my own decisions?”

He smirked. “It's not about trust; it’s about protecting what’s important to me.”

I was ready for a fight. “To you or the future of your company?”

He changed tack. “When I’m gone, you’ll be the last Queen, there is no one else.”

“You never asked me what I wanted.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

The old man didn’t answer, not right away. Instead, he finally looked down at the paper and sighed. He stared at the headline for quite some time, not saying anything. I watched him for a while, wondering what he was thinking. Was he going to lecture me? Was he going to tell me what I could or couldn’t do? When he finally spoke, there was more edge to his voice than before.

“Have you been enjoying your free time activities?”

What did he know? I decided to play coy. “I’m not a fan of shopping but I’ve grown to love it. There’s something exhilarating about it. Have you ever been on the hunt for the perfect sale, stalking it through the store like a hunter in search of the perfect buck? There’s just something about it that makes everything worth the while.”

He nodded. “I can’t say that I have. Shopping and hunting have never truly interested me.”

He looked up from the paper and looked me in the eye. We stared each other down for a few seconds, neither of saying anything. But the look was everything. He knew, he knew everything and he didn’t approve. Frankly, I didn’t give a damn. It was my life, I was going to do what I wanted with it, and if he didn’t like, he could drop dead.

“I enjoy my free time and there’s nothing anyone can say to stop me from doing it.”

He nodded. “Mr. Cross seems to think you’re putting yourself into harm’s way.”

So it was Luke. I groaned; the bastard had sold me out. I knew there was something fishy about him tagging along and agreeing to do so. Mia had said he was on the level but I just knew he was reporting to the old man. Why wouldn’t he, he worked for the old bastard after all. Anger swelled in me again, I couldn’t believe he’d betray my trust like that. I had half a mind to kick his ass the next time I saw him.

I collected myself before I spoke again. “Mr. Cross doesn’t know what he’s talking about. My “shopping” expeditions are entirely safe. “

The old man stood up, leaving the paper. He glared at me, there was malice in his eyes, I saw it. He turned to Locke. “I want you to make sure my granddaughter is watched at all times. I want no more of this gallivanting about business.”

Locke nodded. I snapped.

I jumped up from the table and exploded at him. “YOU THINK YOU CAN STOP ME, YOU THINK YOU CAN KEEP ME HERE!”

The old man turned toward me. “That is very unbecoming behavior for a young lady, Olivia.”

I was floored. “I’M NOT A YOUNG LADY AND MY NAME ISN’T OLIVIA, YOU CRAZY, OLD BASTARD!”

I think I shocked him. I shocked myself. I said what I’d wanted to say to him from the moment he picked me up in the bus depot all those months ago. I saw it in his face, the look of defeat. He didn’t say anything but he lost. He nodded his head slightly and left the room. Locke glared at me but didn’t say anything either. He lingered in the door for a few seconds, waiting for my grandfather, and then left.

I sighed, triumphant. I didn’t know what it meant but I think I just won.

I didn’t know it at the time but it was the last fight the two of us ever had.

Chapter Fifteen:

The car stopped moving but I only half paid attention.

I was still staring out the window; the rain was coming down pretty hard now. I could barely see anything, but I could make out the shapes of people as they passed by. There were a lot of them, more than before. I tried not to think about it but there was hardly a reason to avoid it. I had a half a mind to avoid it all though. I wasn’t ready for this, not so long after my parents. I kind of knew it was coming but that still didn’t mean I was prepared for it. There were only so many times one could do this before they weren’t able to do it anymore.

The partition slid open; the driver up front looked into the rearview mirror at me. “Are you ready yet, miss, or do you need some more time?’

Did I need more time, you bet your ass I did. I didn’t say that, instead I took another look out the window. There were so many people out there waiting for me, so many of them I didn’t know but would have to get to know awfully soon. I wasn’t ready for anything.

“Can you give me a few more minutes?”

He smiled weakly. “I understand.”

He closed the partition and I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and all I could see was the darkness of the hall. Only one thought was on my mind: Why couldn’t I have been faster?

“Have you given any more thought to accepting Jade’s offer?” asked Mia, her filing most of my laptop screen.

It was her idea to get the webcams; it was her way to help me through my temporary imprisonment. She sent me the webcam yesterday, after I called her last night and told her all about the conversation I had with my grandfather. The old man had been true to his word. He doubled security, changed the code on my door and made it so that I was only allowed out of my room when he deemed it necessary. I wasn’t exactly a prisoner but I sure as hell felt like it. I wasn’t the only one being punished either. Apparently, his security people discovered an “illegal hack” into their mainframe and were able to lock Mia out of it.

They weren’t able to trace her laptop---thank God---but they were able to write up a new program that she was so far unable to hack.

So, Green Arrow was suffering too. So were the people of the city who were being victimized while the Green Arrow sat in her room, grounded for trying to help them.

Luckily, I was still allowed access to the Internet or I would have died. I emailed Mia as soon as I found out I was now a prisoner and she tried to bust me out. That’s how we found out about her inaccessibility to the system now. We were both pretty bummed about that but there was nothing we could do at the moment. In essence, the Green Arrow was done for. It was all Luke’s fault too. The stupid traitorous bastard. If I ever saw him, again I was going to kick him in the balls so hard he was going to need surgery.

“You should use the ring,” said Mia, for the umpteenth time. “Maybe Jade can help. She seems to be pretty persuasive. Maybe she can convince your grandfather to let you continue what you’re doing.”

I laughed. “I’m supposed to use it for official business, not to help me get out of being grounded.”

“This is official. You can’t be the Green Arrow if you can’t get out of your room.”

I sighed; it was a conundrum.

We talked about other things. She kept moaning about school and how we were going to be so far apart. It kind of bummed me out too. We only had about half a week left before I was being shipped off up north. Mia actually started school on Monday but Elias apparently didn’t follow any set district rules. I guess that was one good thing about going to private school. But there were disadvantages too. I knew we had uniforms at SCH---Star City High---but the ones for Elias were absolutely awful. Thanks to Scarlet and Miss Frost, I had a better appreciation for fashion and I knew that the things that Elias passed for uniforms were not it. They were a hideous gray and white mess. There was a knee length pleated skirt, an itchy sweater vest and a horrible blazer. I looked like a rejected extra from a Harry Potter movie.

I was keeping the monstrosity buried at the bottom of my GA trunk. I was taking it with me of course, not that I expected to get much hero work done there. At least I’d be free to be myself there and not locked up like some kind of delinquent.

Mia groaned. ‘My mom just knocked on the door; it’s time for lights out.”

I looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. It was two in the morning, where the hell had the time gone.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Night, Ollie.”

I shut the laptop, smiling. I was glad she still felt cool calling me Ollie. I couldn’t imagine being called Livy or something equally as dreadful.

I walked into living room, padding about in my bare feet. Once again, I was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and my underwear. Most of my pajamas were dirty, save for a sheer black baby doll but I wasn’t quite ready for that. In fact, I don’t think I’d ever be ready for it but Scarlet insisted I buy it. I tried to force it out of my mind as I walked over to the TV and shut it off. As soon as I did so, all the lights in the room shut off. I cursed, what the hell did I do now? I stumbled through the room, over to the wall where the intercom was. I hated using it but I was glad it was there. Sometimes when I didn’t feel like calling for my own food, I made the receptionist downstairs do it for me.

I pressed the button and took a deep breath. “Hello, is anyone there?’

I let go of the button and waited. But nothing happened. In fact, when I stopped to listen, I realized there was static coming from the other end of the intercom. What the hell? There was no way that it was a coincidence. I took a guess and tried my door. I grabbed the knob and gave it a twist, the door opened without a problem. Son of a bitch. I peered out into the little foyer area but everything was pitch black. The whole floor had no power. I shut the door and ran to the window, pressing my face to the glass and looking down. Unusually I could see the lights from the other floors reflected on the buildings around the Tower.

But the only lights I saw were from the ones the other buildings. The main source of illumination came from the building across the way. It was brand new and half way complete. I saw a lot of floor lights still on. They’d been working later and later each night, racing to get it done on time. Last night they were out there until at least three am. Tonight there didn’t seem to be anyone there but that didn’t mean a thing. I often didn’t see anyone from my window anyway.
I padded away from my window, a little confused. If the power was out, the backup power should have kicked in. Not only that but security was on a completely different system, there was no way that it could go out unless someone deliberately cut it.

The realization dawned on me quickly. Someone was in the building. Just like before but somehow they’d figured out how to get past security. Without any power, whoever they were after was a sitting duck.

I ran over to my trunk, thinking of only one thing. They’re here to finish the job; it was the only answer. For weeks, they’d been trying and had failed so far. Someone was out to get my grandfather, this company and me. I opened the trunk, tossing everything out as I grabbed my suit, my hood and my arrows. My bow was always nearby and at the ready. I’m glad the old man hadn’t pried too far into the room and poked in my stuff.

I dressed quickly and slowly the reflection in the glass changed. Gone was Olivia Queen to be replaced by the Green Arrow once again.
I nocked an arrow, raised the bow and left the room.

If all the power was out, I knew the elevators wouldn’t be working either. So I took the stairs. This time of night, I would assume my grandfather would be asleep so I was about to go up but stopped. Scarlet told me that my grandfather was getting a lot of pressure to sell the company and he was spending all hours in the office, crunching numbers, trying to figure out ways to stop the greedy circling vultures. Everyone knew my grandfather’s health was waning and it was only a matter of time before he was gone. They were all circling, trying to pick the carcass that was Queen Industries. The old man had yet to make any public and formal announcement but he had plans to name me his heir. He told me a few weeks ago, over breakfast one morning. I was a little floored by it, but I’d been expecting it for some time now. Not that I was too happy about the whole thing. I wouldn’t actually be running the company; someone else would do that for me until I finished college and officially took over. It was kind of daunting and scary but I had a lot of time to prepare for it.

So instead of up, I went down.

I made my way quickly down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When I reached my destination, I pushed the door open with my foot, bow raised high. I stepped into the hallway and saw a gruesome sight. The hall was bathed in dim lighting, tinted and sparse. It was the emergency lighting system; it was only throughout the business part of the Tower. The residential part was supposed to have their own lighting but apparently, it hadn’t gone on. Or maybe someone hadn’t had the chance to do so because scattered before me were three or four bodies.

All of them were killed where they stood, their weapons still in their holsters, dead before they knew what hit them. I bent down next to the nearest one and paused. A bullet didn’t kill him or a knife, sticking out of his back, like a deadly flag, was an arrow shaft. I touched the fletching with my fingers; it was as black as the shaft. It was a deadly shot, a kill shot, right between his shoulder blades. The guy on the ground was probably the first to go. The other few around him were shot in various stages of alertness; the one furthest down the hall actually had a black arrow in his throat.

I felt sick to my stomach. I recognized the arrows immediately. They were from the same archer that killed those mercs on the cruise ship. I felt my heart thud into my chest. Why the hell would he save me and kill all these guys? What the hell was he doing here?
I crept down the hall slowly, alert the whole time.

My grandfather’s office was through the big doors at the end. Usually there were two guys standing outside of it but I figured that they must have been either in the hall dead or somewhere inside. When I approached the door, I nudged it open with my foot. I’d never been in his office but I knew the layout. The reception area was large, with a lot of comfy chairs, a table and a little coffee area. His secretary had her desk over by the doors that led into the main office. Everything now was shrouded in darkness. I felt my way through the room, using the moonlight shining through the big windows to guide me.

When I got to the secretary’s desk, I found a middle-aged woman slumped back in her chair, an arrow in her heart. There was an expression of shocked surprise on her face, her eyes open and staring. I closed her eyes, sad for this person who never even saw it coming. I was also afraid, afraid for my grandfather and what possibly lay beyond those double doors.

I took a deep breath and pushed the doors open, prepared for anything. The office was bathed in darkness like the reception area but I could see two primary shapes: one of them a large desk and other a man standing behind it. At first, I thought it was my grandfather but this guy was taller, crouched over a computer terminal, typing away. He didn’t seem to notice me at first because he was busy on the computer. I slipped into the room as quiet as a mouse. I’m not sure when he caught onto my presence but as soon as he did he reached for something resting against the desk, probably his own bow.

I fired at arrow. Even in the dark, I had a fifty- fifty chance. I put the arrow between his fingers, right into the desk, startling the hell out of him. He snapped his hand back quickly, searching the darkness. He leaned forward, stepping into the glow of the moonlight and I gasped. I knew that face, I knew it well. The same brown hair now streaked with gray. The same goatee and the same chiseled features. I’d been searching for this man for years, scouring the Internet for any recollection of him but I’d never been able to find any.

Now here he was, standing in my grandfather’s office, dressed all in black, the man from the cruise ship.

“Merlyn” I said, my voice soft and unbelieving.

The man squinted and smiled. “Only three people in the world could make a shot that accurate in the dark. I’ve killed the other two and the third is me.”
I harrumphed. I knew how to shoot in the dark because he taught me. It was one of his lessons. He tied a blindfold around my eyes and made me shoot at a target bell. It took me a few tries but I was able to do it eventually. He had been so impressed at the time.

“A student learns a lot from their teacher,” I said coldly, nocking another arrow and keeping on him like a hawk.

“”You’ve come a long way from the little pipsqueak of all those years ago, Miss Green Arrow.”

I smirked. Of course, he knew, how could he not. He taught me everything I knew, so of course he’d recognize his own work. “Why did you let me go on the boat?”

His eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t my job to kill you.”

“And it is now?”

He didn’t answer right away; instead, he kind of dodged the question. “Your grandfather has made a lot of friends and even more enemies. My employer has been very keen to get rid of him for some time now. He tried subtle business tactics at first but when they didn’t work he tried more drastic means.”

It was another lesson Merlyn taught me. The ideal way to kill something was to go for the heart. I realized it then and there. I knew all along but he just confirmed it for me. “He sent those guys after our boat, didn’t he?”

“It was supposed to shake the old man, make him more flexible and grieving. But who knew he was a cold-hearted bastard. When killing you and your parents didn’t work, my employer decided to use more ruthless means. He hired a bunch of mercenaries to take one of his cruise ships, hoping that the bad publicity would tarnish your grandfather’s reputation and cause him to lose stockholders, enough so that his company would end up in the hole.”

I screwed that plan up. I smiled at that. “What were you doing there?”

“Making sure they succeeded and then kill them all when they were done. I was surprised to see you there actually. I didn’t know it was you then but it didn’t take me long to make the connection. You did my work for up until the end there. You could have had those two if you’d listened to what I’d taught you.”

I sneered. “I’m no murderer, not like you.”

He laughed. “Still don’t have the gall for it yet. But don’t worry someday you will and you’ll be just like me.”

I looked at my grandfather’s chair, noticing it was empty. I had hope; maybe Merlyn hadn’t finished his job. He saw me looking at the chair and smiled.

“I thought he might be here too. I came here first, actually, but the old bastard wasn’t here. So I went upstairs and found him in the bed” He smirked.

“Unlike you, I have no problem doing what it necessary to get the job done.”

A tear rolled down my cheek. My hand shook, the arrow wobbled a bit.

“Don’t be so shocked,” he said, slowly moving his hand toward the side of the table. “You knew it was going to come to this eventually. I mean after all, I’m Merlyn the Magician, the Greatest Archer the world has ever seen.”

I don’t know how he distracted me but he did. It was only for a split second but it was all the time he needed. He had a crossbow at his side; I never saw it. He raised it and fired. The bolt flew through the air but it came at me in slow motion, just like on the ship, just like with Brick. I moved my body, allowing the bolt to sail through the air, past my head and into the wall behind me. I fired my arrow, hitting Merlyn in the shoulder. The world came snapping back at me in full motion; Merlyn screwed and dropped his crossbow.

“NO” he shouted. “IT’S NOT POSSIBLE. I HAD YOU, THERE’S NO WAY YOU COULD HAVE ESCAPED IT.”

I drew another arrow, not paying attention to the fact that it was a number six.

“I guess that means I’m the better archer after all.”

“You” he groaned through the pain, clutching his shoulder, while he gasped on his knees. “You’re no archer because you’re still unable to take the killing shot.”

‘No I can’t and I never will because I’m not like you, Merlyn.”

I smirked and fired. The arrow flew by his head and stuck in the glass behind him. He started laughing and arrow exploded. The blast threw us both back into the room. I went stumbling through the open doorway, back into the reception area. Merlyn was blasted forward but only for a few moments. The suction from the broken window pulled him back. He was screaming as he was sucked out the window, pulling the desk and a few other things in the room with him.
I slammed the double doors before I met the same fate, slumping to the ground, panting.

I stared there for the longest time, trying to figure what the hell just happened. It occurred to me seconds later that I shot a number six. I didn’t even know I had one in the quiver. I laid there for a few more minutes, panting and praying before I got back up. The lights snapped back on but I didn’t care. I got up and ran out of the room, down the hall and toward the stairs. I took them two at a time, tears streaming down my face as I ran. When I reached the floor of my grandfather’s pent house, I found Spencer and Locke, both dead. I ignored them and ran into my grandfather’s room.

He was lying on the bed just like Merlyn said, a black arrow shaft in his chest. I ran forward and checked his pulse. But I knew as soon as I touched his body that he was dead. He was cold to the touch and not breathing. I fell on his chest, crying. I’m not sure how long I was there but I think it was Marko who found me. He lifted me off the old man, passing me into Luke’s arms. Luke carried me back to my room and put me to bed.

I cried myself to sleep, cursing myself for being so slow.

I wiped the tears from eyes; it was too painful.

After finding him dead, I shut down. Scarlet made all the arrangements. I only nodded and signed what needed to be signed. There were still a lot of things that needed to be done but we both decided that that could wait until after the funeral. It was a large affair, all over the news. The official report was that he finally died after his long battle with lung cancer. There was nothing in there about John Merlyn or any attempt by someone to kill us. Quiet arrangements were made with the family of the guards who Merlyn killed; Scarlet took care of all that.

There were some rumblings about who was going to take over the company; most of them had my name at the top of the list. The media had a field day with it and everyone was asking interviews. The only one who wasn’t going to get the exclusive was Lois Lane. There was another reporter at the Planet who wanted so I was seriously thinking about giving it to him. He seemed like a nice guy, he had an honest face. I refused all of the interviews at the moment for now, maybe in a few days, after everything cooled down. But it didn’t stop everyone from wanting to know more about the mysterious Olivia Queen. Scarlet released a press packet about me, giving them all the fake crap that the two of us cooked up. I was in no mood to correct anyone anymore. Even though the threat to our lives seemed to be over for the moment, there were still people out there clamoring for a piece of the company.

I sighed, forcing myself to stop crying. I leaned forward and tapped the partition. It slid open and driver turned his head.

“Are you ready now, miss?’

I nodded. “I don’t suppose we could just turn around and forget this?’

He didn’t say anything. He closed the partition and a few seconds later, he opened my door, holding an umbrella open for me. I stepped out of the limo, into the rain, the umbrella keeping it from my new dress and newly done hair. It was now business appropriate.

There was a swarm of reporters around the limo, all of them snapping pictures at me. They were shouting questions, each one trying to get my attention. Luke was there, trying to keep them off me. Today I wasn’t hiding my face. Today I was ready for the world to know me.

I slipped the green ring on my finger. I did it behind my back, so no one saw. It was a big moment for me but it was right. I wasn’t agreeing to anything but it was a good idea to have help if I needed it. There would be a time again like Merlyn and Brick, a time where all the odds were against me and I needed to act without a conscience.

But I’m not sure if I was ready to face it alone.

And I definitely wasn’t ready to take the kill shot