Hero Go Home

Previously: As Digger sped to the site of a super-battle in a rented car, a giant robot stepped out in front of him. And now…

Digger hit the brake, but there was no way he could stop in time. He yanked the wheel hard left, his foot mashing the brake pedal to the ground as his right hand yanked up on the emergency brake.

The wheels locked up with a screech, and suddenly the car was tumbling in mid-air, as if it had leapt off the ground to pounce on its enemy. Time seemed to slow down; it almost seemed as if a part of Digger were watching from outside his body as his left hand cranked on the window handle and his right hand opened the driver’s side door.

The car struck the robot’s legs with a deafening crunch. Digger was thrown violently to the right, but the seat belt held him securely. There were a couple more minor bumps and crunches, and then the car came to rest.

Digger opened his eyes and looked around; he might have blacked out for a moment, but he wasn’t quite sure. The robot was on its back on the ground with the car resting on its legs. Suddenly, the robot’s legs began to buck, trying to kick the car off, but the broken set of knees kept the force from transferring fully. The car rocked and shimmied with hideous scraping noises against the robot’s legs.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]The flame died down. The robot looked up at Digger’s car, and once again, Digger saw and heard the robot building power for another shot…[/blockquote]And then the robot sat up slightly, its domelike eyes aimed at Digger. Where the thing’s mouth should have been was a round nozzle with a small jet of flame visible inside like the afterburner on a jet. A glow arose deep within the nozzle as Digger heard the sound of a turbine building up thrust.

Digger slapped at the seatbelt lock and shoved at the car door. Surprisingly, both opened readily. Digger lunged for the opening, but barely got his head and shoulders out the door when the car lurched under him, scooping him back inside. The car tilted up at a 90 degree angle and shot straight up into the air. Digger fell down against the passenger door.

Through the window, he saw the robot down below shoot a jet of white-hot flame from its nozzle-mouth. Even fifty feet up, he could feel the heat from that jet of fire. The flame died down. The robot looked up at Digger’s car, and once again, Digger saw and heard the robot building power for another shot.

The nozzle crumpled as if squeezed by an invisible hand, and then twisted closed like the foil enclosing a Hershey’s Kiss. The whine of the turbine was overridden by the loud whistle of superheated gas escaping through a very tiny opening at the end of that twisted nozzle. And then the robot’s head exploded.

Shrapnel pattered against the car, spanging off the fenders and chipping the windows. The car lowered slowly down to street level and settled to the ground on flat tires. Steam hissed from the broken radiator.

As Digger sat up, an ominous figure in black metal armor descended quietly to earth.

Is this good news or bad news? Or maybe both? Be here tomorrow for the next episode of Run, Digger, Run!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Digger arrived in San Francisco and called Cole Chen, Whiz’s brother, who is also a superhero named Metalord. Cole set up a meet and said Digger would know the place by the explosions. And now…

“Wait, what explosions?” Digger asked, but by then, Chen had said, “See you there” and hung up.

Digger’s foot pressed down on the gas, but he had to remind himself that he wasn’t that guy anymore. He wasn’t the nearly invulnerable guy who had fought his way back from Hell, saved the world, and beaten up half the Big Apple Corps with his bare hands and a baseball bat. He was just a norm in a rented car. He slowed down again with an effort and kept the speed pegged at just under the limit as cars whizzed by him on both sides.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]They were strange machines, half-insectile in their design. The copters had buzzing wings on either side like huge dragonflies, while the robots had buglike faces with dome-shaped eyes and legs with multiple sets of knees. ..[/blockquote]He kept his eyes on the sky ahead as he exited onto the Southern Embarcadero Freeway. At first, he saw nothing but distant contrails and a lonely blimp circling over downtown. As he drew nearer, he saw small helicopter-like vehicles rise up, six or seven of them, and then giant robotic heads appeared above some of the buildings along the waterfront, five in all.

And then lightning lanced up toward one of the helicopters, which barely managed to jink out of the way. One of the robots fell a moment later, attracting strafing runs from a couple of the helicopters.

And then, the explosions: a column of them, a growing cylinder, curving like a tentacle made of bits of blooming fire and smoke, like an invisible string of huge firecrackers detonating. And when that tentacle touched one of the helicopters, it went down in pieces.

Digger watched the battle, rapt, barely seeing the cars weaving in front of him, barely hearing the horns honking in his wake. He glanced down at the speedometer once to see it spiked all the way to the right, but he didn’t really register what that meant as he looked up once more to watch the battle in progress. More lightning, cars and other debris flying into the air, and that bizarre exploding pseudopod curling around on itself, chasing down the helicopters one by one.

And now he was off the freeway and on the Embarcadero proper, where he could better see the three remaining copters, the two remaining robots. They were strange machines, half-insectile in their design. The copters had buzzing wings on either side like huge dragonflies, while the robots had buglike faces with dome-shaped eyes and legs with multiple sets of knees. They could adjust their height from less than 20 feet tall to over 50 in a mere second; one shot up to full extension and took a swing at the exploding tentacle as it passed over him. It drew back a smoking stump for its trouble.

And then a car smashed its head off. Both head and car spun in the air, flying toward Digger. He watched them as if hypnotized, and then they smashed to the ground right in front of him.

He yanked the wheel hard left, shot down a side street toward safety.

Until another robot stepped out right in front of his car.

This looks pretty bad, especially considering the name of the chapter. Be here tomorrow for the least surprising surprise ever in the next episode of Run, Digger, Run!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Previously: Digger headed to San Francisco in a rented car, the first step in his bid to reach Mongolia in time to stop Twain’s plan. And now…

One thing that always struck Digger about San Francisco was the clutter of it. Driving into the city, one was confronted with just rows and rows of hills bristling with houses, as far as the eye could see. And every time he came back, the tide of that sea of houses seemed to have come in a little more; they started appearing a little earlier every time. Hitting the outskirts of the city broke him out of the trance he’d been in for who knew how long. When was the last time he had gassed up? Had he even stopped since leaving Phoenix?

He had to have, since the gas gauge was reading half-full. But he couldn’t remember, and that worried him. Could this alternate dimension body he now inhabited have some kind of disease that caused memory loss? Alzheimer’s or something? It was becoming more urgent than ever that he find Twain and use the mask to get back to normal.

Although he still wasn’t sure how he would do that. In the superhero life, you tended to meet people from all over and accumulate favors on both sides. But he didn’t have many contacts left in San Francisco, at least ones who would return his calls. He’d heard that AcroCop had moved out here with his family, but he had quit the hero game. He wouldn’t have the pull needed to get Digger on a plane to China.

And once he was in China, he would really be lost. The closest contacts he had were in Korea, and he hadn’t talked to them in over 10 years. Maybe the U.S. Embassy over there could put him in touch with someone. He would figure it out when he got there.

But first, he figured he might as well call Whiz’s brother and get it out of the way. He didn’t know how much help the guy could be, but if he had been to Mongolia before, he might at least be able to give Digger a map or something. He dialed the number he had programmed into his phone from the card Whiz had given him.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]“Kevin? Told you to call me?” The voice chuckled. “He must really be desperate…”[/blockquote]“Metalord, go,” said the voice on the other end.

“Is this… Cole?” Digger asked, checking the name on the card. Cole Chen, Metalord.

“Probably,” the voice said. “Who’s asking?”

“My name’s Digger. Whiz told me I should call you when I get to San Francisco.”

“Kevin? Told you to call me?” The voice chuckled. “He must really be desperate. Wait, are you the Digger?”

“Probably,” Digger echoed. “Can I meet you someplace for a few minutes?”

“Well, I was just headed out the door to do a thing,” the voice said, “but hell. Come on out. The more, the merrier. How are you coming in?”

“I know my way around San Francisco,” Digger said. “Just tell me where to meet you.”

“Pier 36, just south of the Bay Bridge,” the voice said. “You’ll know when you’re getting close, You know, because of the explosions.”

Wait, what explosions? Don’t miss tomorrow’s exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Previously: In China, Twain stayed with Aunt Ying, an old woman he had apparently known for years. And now…

Twain embraced Ma Ying Chan in the street next to the battered old Tianjin he had purchased with coffee-soaked American dollars. He had paid $645, several times what the junker was probably worth, but dollars were no longer worth what they had been on the black market.

“You be careful on the journey,” Aunt Ying said. “Don’t get captured this time.”

“I’ll try not to to,” Twain said.

“Call me if the car breaks down,” Aunt Ying said.

Which was a very real possibility. The car was over ten years old and looked older.  But it didn’t have to look good. It just had to get him to Ulan Bator, and not necessarily fast. The longer the journey took, the more time he would have to clear his head and think through his problem.

Which was that, though he was sure that the City of the Moon held the answer to his fondest dreams, he had no idea exactly what he should do once he got there.He trusted than an answer would present itself–one always did–but it was scary jumping out there without knowing.

“I wish I could go with you to keep you safe,” Aunt Ying said. “I was amazing when I was your age, you know.”

“I’m sure you were,” Twain said.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]Twain felt a tingle on his chest and fished out the blue crystal he now wore around his neck. The crystal glowed brightly, visible even in full sunlight…[/blockquote]“But I’m old now and out of practice,” Aunt Ying said as she began to step into a brief form. Twain recognized it as the most basic of the Chi Kung forms the old man had taught him years ago.

But of course, Aunt Ying’s lament was the basic reason the old man’s secret society had faded away. In the years since everything had changed, the world had become full of people who didn’t have to learn complex forms or stay in practice to channel the energies they did. Overnight, the entire League of Dragons had been rendered obsolete, which was fine with Twain. The old rituals had never worked for him, anyway.

“You don’t look out of practice, Aunt,” Twain said, to stay on the old lady’s good side.

“You flatter an old lady,” Aunt Ying said. “You should have seen me when I was young and strong. I doubt if I could even channel a…”

She stopped and gazed in wonder at the soft glow that had formed between her palms. “Could it be?”

Twain felt a tingle on his chest and fished out the blue crystal he now wore around his neck. The crystal glowed brightly, visible even in full sunlight. “Do something else, Aunt Ying,” he said.

She launched into a kung fu form, a graceful, flowing movement that mimicked the movements of a woman doing embroidery, ending with a finger thrust like the strike of a needle. Twenty paces away, on a table full of fruit outside a small market, a pear exploded.

Aunt Ying smiled. “I haven’t managed that in twenty years.”

Twain gazed in wonder at the crystal. It had pulsed in perfect synch with her movements.

How will this help Twain’s quest for the City of the Moon? And what’s happening with Digger? Learn more next week in the next thrilling chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Or to continue to the next episode, click here!

Previously: Digger was released from police custody with the help of Caveat Maledictor, who wants Digger to get his crystal back. And now…

Digger scrubbed at his face with his palms as the waitress arrived with his coffee. “Thanks,” he said.

You all right, hon?” asked the waitress.

“I’m fine,” Digger said.

As the waitress walked away, Davey Lopez said, “Are you okay, Dig? You look kind of, I don’t know, wasted.”

Digger stretched and looked around the Phoenix truck stop where Davey had met him for breakfast. “I’m fine. I just… I’ve never zoned out on a drive like this before. On the other hand, I’m making great time. I should be in San Francisco before sunset.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Davey said.

“Yeah. And the mileage,” Digger said. “I thought my beat-up old Hyundai got pretty good mileage, but I guess with the new cars that they have nowadays, it’s a lot better.”

“What are you driving?”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”] “You mean you’re driving halfway across the country without a driver’s license and planning to fly to China without a passport?” Digger nodded. “Far from the most impossible thing I have ever done.”[/blockquote]“Toyota or something,” Digger said. “I don’t know. Caveat rented it, and you paid for it. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Davey said. “I’ll always have your back. I owe you that much.”

Digger smiled uneasily. He had saved Davey’s life as a child and had more recently freed him from psychic bondage to end Hell on Earth, so he understood Davey’s gratitude. What made him uneasy was the money Dave was throwing around.

Davey had spent most of his life in a coma with the power to manifest solid illusions that seemed completely real. With such power at his disposal, Davey had amassed a fortune (in ways both legal and not) to help his mother stay solvent while paying his considerable medical bills.

He had come out of the coma a few months ago, and all the alternate personas who had earned the money had disappeared. But Davey apparently still had access to it, because he always had cash to throw around when Digger needed a favor. Digger didn’t want to think too hard about how Davey had acquired it.

“So what kind of mileage are we talking about?” Davey asked.

“I haven’t really been keeping track, but something like 80 miles a gallon, I guess,” Digger said.

“Hybrid?” Davey asked.

“Don’t think so,” Digger said. He brightened as the waitress approached with plates. “Finally. I’m starving.”

“So what’s your plan when you get to San Francisco?” Davey asked.

“Don’t know,” Digger said. “I’ll talk to Whiz’s brother first thing, but I don’t know how much he’ll be able to help. And after that, I’ll try to catch a flight to China.”

“You have your passport with you?” Davey asked.

Digger froze in mid-bite. “Um… no. I don’t have a passport. I used to have one of those government-issued hero travel cards, but it disappeared with my wallet.”

“Where was your driver’s license?”

“It’s gone, too. “

“Wait,” Davey said. “You mean you’re driving halfway across the country without a driver’s license and planning to fly to China without a passport?”

Digger nodded and said around a mouthful of eggs, “Far from the most impossible thing I’ve ever done.”

Exactly how does Digger plan to go overseas without a passport? Don’t expect to learn the answer tomorrow, because Twain returns in tomorrow’s episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Or to continue to the next episode, click here!

Previously: With Digger arrested for the bank robbery, Twain headed for China in his pursuit of the secret to the City of the Moon. And now…

Ying Chan’s eyes widened in shock when she saw who had entered her little shop. The old woman waved Twain toward the back and then ushered him up the narrow stairway to the apartments on the second floor. “What are you doing here again so soon?” she chattered in Mandarin. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time?”

“Fate has led me on a great circuit, Aunt Ying” Twain said. “I came here to solve the mystery of a cup and found a cave.”

“A cave which almost got you killed,” Ying Chan said.

“Which is why I decided to go back home and pursue the cup,” Twain said. “But when I found it, it was just another clue to the cave.”

“You should stay away from that cave,” Ying Chan said. “I get a chill every time you mention it.”

“That cave is going to let me succeed where I have always failed,” Twain said.

“He wouldn’t want you to succeed that way,” Ying Chan said.

“He’s not here,” Twain said. “And his way never worked for me.”

“I know,” Ying Chan said as she opened the door to the attic. “Still… You can stay here, like last time. I’ll let you get unpacked.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]Sharp pain jabbed deep in his head, and he had to lean on one of the duffels as his head swam for a moment…[/blockquote]The old woman turned to go, then paused. “My son… You haven’t…”

“No, I still haven’t heard from him,” Twain said. “I’m sorry.”

The old woman nodded and went back downstairs to attend to her shop, leaving Twain to haul his leather satchel into the cramped attic space. The small carry-on only held a few changes of clothing, completely inadequate for an excursion into the most dangerous country on Earth. He shoved the bag into the corner and sat on the thin sleeping mat on the floor. Time to really unpack.

He closed his eyes and activated the Toggle device in his brain. Once again, he felt the sensation of a switch being flipped, and suddenly he was a different person. The stench and fatigue of hours of jet travel were gone, and he suddenly had two more duffel bags full of weapons and equipment.

Sharp pain jabbed deep in his head, and he had to lean on one of the duffels as his head swam for a moment. The more extra mass he carried through a flip, the more it hurt. He had nearly passed out from the pain when he had flipped with his cell door in the dungeons under the Cobalt Czar’s palace, opening the way for his escape. The door had provided a handy surprise weapon against the guard he had stumbled across, but flipping back to his tortured, half-starved self while carrying a heavy door had nearly ended him right there.

The only thing more painful was what he had done to Invictus.

But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was his goal. He started unpacking the gear and weapons he would need for his next attempt to enter the City of the Moon. He would not fail this time.

Who is Ying Chan? And who is the mysterious man she and Twain were discussing? You will get absolutely no answers to those questions in tomorrow’s episode, but join us anyway!

To read from the beginning, click here…

r to continue to the next episode, click here!

Previously: Digger, having lost his powers and his Driller Beam Generators, was arrested by Hound Dog and taken back to  Bayside to answer for robbing the bank. And now…

“You gotta’ be shittin’ me!” Grayson shouted.

“I don’t like it any more than you do,” Assistant District Attorney Stone said. “But his lawyer is right. We can’t prove he’s Digger. And watch your language.”

“Eyewitness testimony doesn’t count?” Merrick asked. “We fought him in that bar. He’s definitely the same guy.”

Stone shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true. What matters is what the jury believes. And the jury knows two things about Digger. Number one, he saved the world, so you’re going to have to work extra hard connecting him to the bank.”

“We have security videos,” Grayson said. “It’s a slam dunk.”

“Exactly,” Stone said. “Which just reinforces fact number two: that Digger has metal devices permanently grafted to his arms. And every time they look at him, what they’ll see will be normal arms with perfectly unmarked skin. And you can bet that his attorney will have him in a short-sleeved shirt so that every look just reinforces the point.”

“But he says his name is Mason Ryan,” Merrick said. “And it’s on public record that that’s Digger’s real name.”

“I’m sure there are lots of Mason Ryans,” Stone said. “Can you prove he’s that Mason Ryan? Did he have any identification on him?”

“No,” Merrick said. “No wallet, no I.D.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]“You say ‘slam dunk’ in my office one more time,” Stone said, “and I’ll make sure that the closest you can get to police work in the future is working security at basketball games….[/blockquote]“What about fingerprints?” Stone asked. “He fired that security guard’s pistol during the robbery. Can you match the prints?”

Grayson turned a deep red. “We, uh, didn’t take the guard’s weapon into evidence.”

Stone didn’t bother to answer. He simply stared at Grayson until the detective became too uncomfortable to leave the silence hanging.

“We didn’t need the gun to link Digger to the robbery,” Grayson said. “We had the videos and the eyewitnesses. It was a slam dunk.”

“You say ‘slam dunk’ in my office one more time,” Stone said, “and I’ll make sure that the closest you can get to police work in the future is working security at basketball games. Understand?”

Grayson turned even redder, but nodded.

“We can prove he’s Digger,” Merrick said. “There are other Digger fingerprints on file, and there must be DNA evidence somewhere.”

“Then find it,” Stone said. “But in the meantime, we can’t justify holding him.”

“But he’ll just run away again,” Grayson said.

“He’ll come back,” Stone said. “He always comes back.”

***

Hound Dog shook his head as he left the station with Digger and the lawyer, Arthur. “You know, Dig, this is the third time I’ve run into you on the job, and I have yet to collect a single dime from any of them,” Hound Dog said. “You are turning into my white whale.”

“You should have known this one would be a tough sell,” Arthur said. “Especially with me on the case.”

“And why are you on the case, Caveat?” Digger asked. “I thought you would want me behind bars after I robbed your house.”

“You took something from me,” Arthur said, “and you’re going to get it back.”

How will Digger get the crystal back when Twain is halfway around the world? Join us tomorrow for the next episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

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Previously: Twain revealed that he had set Digger up from the beginning and absconded with the bank robbery money and the magic cup. Before he could pursue Twain to stop his plan, Digger was arrested and taken back to Bayside to face trial for the bank robbery. And now…

After a couple of hours, the words on the screen began to blur together, so Twain closed the laptop and leaned his seat back the couple of inches it would go. He hated airplanes, being forced to sit for hours in a tiny cramped space. Which really sucked, because he loved the sensation of flying.Those bastards who could fly without the need for an airplane didn’t know how lucky they were.

But maybe soon, if he could figure out the secret, he would be one of them. Another seven hours in the air, and he would be in Shanghai. From there, he had to obtain transportation to Ulan Bator, and from there, he had to sneak back to the City of the Moon, the very place he’d been captured just a few weeks ago.

The story he had told Digger had been true, for the most part. He had gone to Mongolia searching for the cup he had happened across in searching some ancient documents on-line. Something about the description piqued his interest, and by doing some searching and cross-referencing, he had eventually arrived at a secret that had been lost for over a hundred years. Which he didn’t understand, because it was right there for anyone to see, if they would just open their eyes.

But that seemed to be his particular talent, aside from the clothes changing thing: an ability to make connections, to draw upon a dozen different sources, recognize a pattern, and synthesize a solution that no one else seemed able to recognize. Only in this case, he found that the cup he was seeking was gone. He made some inquiries accompanied by liberally greased palms, and while he was waiting, he stumbled upon an intriguing side-mystery to that of the cup: The City of the Moon.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]He hated airplanes, being forced to sit for hours in a tiny cramped space. Which really sucked, because he loved the sensation of flying…[/blockquote]Which was where he’d been captured and interrogated by the Cobalt Czar himself. The Czar was a little curious about how Twain had learned of the City of the Moon, because it was a heavily guarded secret. But he seemed more interested in Digger, because Digger’s exploits threatened to weaken his hold on absolute power. To hear him tell it, a secret society was forming, an underground religion, a Cult of Digger that if unchecked might lead someday to open rebellion.

It might have been pure paranoia, but the Czar obviously took  it seriously enough to ask about Digger and his weaknesses. And when Twain’s answers were unsatisfying, he had Twain thrown back into his cell to await execution.

Which was when Twain decided to escape. He had let himself be held prisoner for as long as he could stand, suffering the cramped cell and the nasty gruel he was forced to eat and the broken and rehealed limbs, in the hopes that he could find an answer to the riddle of the City of the Moon. He could sense the secret was huge; why else would the Czar guard it so zealously?

But execution tended to change one’s plans.

How did Twain escape? What is the secret that makes him so dangerous? Join us tomorrow for the next chapter of Run, Digger, Run!

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