-----
A while later, the strange lunch finally came to an end. Inside, Vera was showing off her collection of exotic trinkets to a fascinated Gwen, with Max occasionally adding stories from their travels. Rio and Ben, however, had made a strategic retreat.
The two had slipped outside for some fresh, non-burnt sock-scented air.
Ben kicked a pebble down the empty street. The only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, with the retirement community lying silent under the afternoon sun.
"So much for summer fun," he grumbled to no one in particular.
"Cheer up," Rio said, falling into step beside him. "At least the jelly didn't fight back."
They reached the Rust Bucket, and Ben stopped, scuffing his shoe against the dirt.
"Not coming in?" asked Rio, one hand already on the door.
"Nah." Ben shoved his hands in his pockets. "Gonna... I dunno. Walk around. See if this place has anything at all."
"Suit yourself. Don't get lost." With that, Rio disappeared inside the RV, leaving Ben alone in the oppressive quiet.
Left all alone, Ben kicked another pebble and wandered further down the street, putting distance between himself and Vera's house.
He turned a corner, and the air suddenly changed. The dry, dusty desert smell vanished, replaced by something warm, sweet, and unmistakable.
(Ben's POV)
"Fresh apple pie."
Now we're talking, I thought as my stomach growled in agreement. The smell was so good I could practically taste it. I followed that amazing scent like one of those cartoon characters floating on a cloud of pie smell, and it led me right to this little house with bright yellow curtains.
I couldn't help myself as I involuntarily crept closer to the kitchen window to peek inside.
Inside was an old lady standing there with a fly swatter, staring up at a single fly buzzing near the ceiling. She took a couple of weak swings and missed completely.
The fly buzzed even higher, like it was teasing her from the safety of the high ceiling. The old woman let out this frustrated sigh. Then she bent her knees slightly.
What happened next made my brain short-circuit.
She launched herself straight up. Her hands and feet stuck to the ceiling like a gecko's, and suddenly she was just hanging there upside down.
Before I could even process that horror movie scene, she simply opened her mouth and devoured the very fly.
Swallowing with a satisfied gulp, she dropped from the ceiling. Landing perfectly on her feet without a sound. And she did a couple of casual neck rolls like she'd just finished a light workout.
I stood there frozen at the window, then my eyes went wide.
"Oh! No way."
"Looks like this place is not so boring," I whispered to myself, before quickly ducking away from the window.
I stumbled backward, not even watching where I was going, and my heel slammed into something hard and metal—a sprinkler control box.
Click.
With a sudden hiss, a nearby sprinkler head burst to life, spraying a wide arc of cold water right where I was standing.
But my body reacted before my brain could even catch up, I instinctively launched into a perfect backflip, landing in a crouch.
landing in a perfect Spider-Man crouch, I felt a little impressed with myself.
"Well, at least that hell of a training since middle school did come in handy this time."
Just then, a low humming sound caught my attention. An old man was speeding past in a golf cart, with this big rolled-up red rug tied messily in the back.
When the sprinkler sprayed toward the road, the old man yelped and yanked the steering wheel hard. The cart wobbled dangerously on two wheels before slamming back down. He corrected it smoothly and kept going like nothing had happened.
I blinked, honestly impressed. "Okay, respect," I muttered under my breath. "That was pretty sick."
------
Alien gadgets and tangled wires covered almost every inch of the Rust Bucket's small table.
Rio sat amidst the chaos, his mind no cleaner. The recent encounters replayed endlessly in his mind, and he wasn't able to shake them off.
Gwen and Ben flailing in dark water, Grandpa Max's bandaged arm held stiffly at his side. In the animated world he remembered, such moments were fleeting—a quick cut to a joke and everyone was fine.
Here, the fear in their eyes was genuine, the pain was real, and the consequences didn't reset after twenty-two minutes.
He let out a rough breath and rubbed the back of his neck. His family was quite vulnerable. He just couldn't figure out how they managed to live in the show if they were constantly in such danger.
In the cartoon, the plot armor did its thing. Some unseen hand that made sure everything worked out in the end. But here, that hand felt full of weaknesses.
That's why he was making weapons and armor for his family to protect them, so they wouldn't be the prey of that weakness.
----
A bright green flash filled the cramped space, followed by the low hum of transformation.
Click. Whirr. Zap.
Tiny sparks popped as the wires and metal components were connected together.
He moved between forms, Grey Matter's genius designing what Upgrade's malleable body would then build.
When the work was finally done, lined up neatly on the table were six small, sleek objects.
They weren't obvious weapons. They were just small, metallic spheres, each about the size of a marble that kids play with.
They looked like jewelry. Utterly harmless. Belying the sophisticated technology packed within.
He had just finished lining up the last sphere when the clock caught his eye—it was coding to be dark soon. With a tired sigh, he started to clean up, locking away tools and scraps one by one.
He had just snapped the final lock shut on a storage compartment when the door burst open.
Ben stumbled inside, breathing hard.
His shirt was torn, his jeans were smeared with dirt and grass stains, and a few dried leaves were stuck in his hair like he'd been rolling down a hill.
A fresh scratch on his cheek beaded with blood, completing the picture of a complete mess.
"Rio," he choked out, bracing himself against the doorframe, his chest heaving. "You are not going to believe what just happened to me."
Rio's eyes narrowed. This is it. The alien chase scene.
He set down the tool in his hand. His voice was low and serious.
"What happened?"
-----
(Ben's POV)
The old man driving the golf cart pulled up to the complex's waste area, where a mangled wire gate stood partially open.
On a closer look, I realized it was Marty, Grandma Vera's neighbor, the one who used to give me candy.
He grabbed the rolled-up red carpet from the back like it weighed nothing and headed for the gate.
From the look of the carpet, something was wrapped in it, surely weighing quite a bit.
Then something impossible happened. His legs stretched upward, elongating like taffy until he was tall enough to simply step over the fence gate.
Reaching the other side, he shoved one of the three dumpsters aside, revealing a hidden gate beneath. Opening the gates, he unceremoniously dumped the rolled carpet into the darkness below.
While he was distracted, I crept closer, crouching by the gate to get a better look.
He was also about to disappear into the place below when he froze. Then, in a move that defied every law of biology I knew, his neck rotated a full 180 degrees until his eyes locked directly on mine.
"AAAHHHH"
I couldn't help it—a sharp squeal escaped my lips.