My Name Is Justin

Chapter 1

The Truth Be Told

My Name is Justin Rexton.

At least it used to be…before I learned the truth.

Before the only world I ever knew vanished in one day.

Before I was alone.

I guess I better start with some background.

I'm fifteen years old and live in San Diego, California with my parents in a nice little neighborhood. As an only child I guess I was a little spoiled; I never wanted for anything and my parents very seldom said no to me about anything, but when they did I didn't argue. I don't have any other family members…well, except for Uncle Angus who only comes to visit at Christmas time. I'm still not sure that he's really a relative as he looks nothing like either of my parents…he's a big fat guy with a Scottish accent who likes to drink too much and when he does he starts trying to talk about "the old days" but Mom would give him a dirty look that shut him up. They claim there's other family members, but I've never seen or talked to any of them…there isn't even a family album.

I just started going to high school with some friends of mine this fall. When we're not in school we're usually playing basketball or hanging out at the skate park. Once in a great while we go surfing. I guess that makes me an average California kid.

But that started changing a few months ago.

Dad started leaving home for days on end. Mom would claim he was going on business trips, but she would be worried sick until the minute he showed back up. She'd have every tv and radio tuned to the news stations, listening to every bulletin like it was life or death for her. But even when he did come back they'd go out into the garage and have a terrible fight. I was beginning to think Mom was suspicious that Dad was having an affair.

If only it had been something that simple.

It started one late spring day. Dad was on one of his "business trips" and I was out shooting hoops with my friends when a storm came rolling in.

I didn't think anything of the storm, they happened nearly every summer afternoon. I was just playing ball until my entire body was seized with a horrible pain I can't begin to describe. All of my joints locked up and I fell to the ground, but I couldn't even cry out because my jaws were clenched tight.

One of my friends ran and got my mom, but when she arrived she refused to let anyone call for an ambulance and said she would handle it.

I'm a big kid for my age, but Mom scooped me up like I weighed nothing and ran to the house, getting me up to my room in a matter of moments. Once she was sure I wasn't having an epileptic seizure and that I wasn't going to swallow my tongue, she left me on my bed and ran to grab the phone. I couldn't hear what she was saying but she was virtually shrieking about what was going on, and I heard her say "doctor".

Outside the storm continued to build in power. The wind picked up and the sky went from day to night as the blackest clouds I ever saw through my window appeared. Thunder began to rumble, and streaks of lightning flashed bright enough to nearly blind me.

Then I heard it. I swear I honestly think I HEARD the storm speaking outside; its voice was the thunder now shaking the house and, like my mom, I couldn't understand the words, but I knew it was speaking to me.

I don't know why I did it. The agony I was in was unbearable…it felt like every bone in my body was twisting itself, trying to tear out of my body. My fingers tingled though they were numb, and my body was soaked in sweat. I stretched my hands out to the window, to the storm outside, silently begging for help.

The storm answered.

Lightning blasted open my window and struck me. Arcs of electricity danced around and through me, burning away the pain I was in and washing me in its power. It was over in an instant, but the effects were spectacular. The pain was totally gone, and instead I felt more alive and stronger than I ever had in my entire life. I could feel the blood pumping through my veins, the vibrancy of every muscle, the tingling of my skin. I felt the wind blowing through the window, caressing my body and drying the sweat that had drenched me. It felt like absolute bliss.

Then I looked in the mirror. What I saw was a surprise to top all the others.

My clothes had been blasted to rags by the lightning, but there wasn't a mark on my naturally dark skin. I was already in pretty good shape, but now my muscles were more evident, proof that the lightning had made me stronger somehow. My dark eyes now seemed to glisten with a light from within, but the biggest shock was my hair. I had had naturally dark, almost jet black hair my entire life that I had always worn long. Now it was absolutely white, a flawless shade matching freshly fallen snow.

I was staring at myself when Mom came in. Already panicked, she almost freaked when she saw my hair, but I told her I was fine otherwise. I didn't tell her that the lightning itself had struck me, but my hair must have turned white from the trauma I had undergone. I wasn't sure that she bought it, but she didn't push it. Outside the storm passed on as if it's work had been done. As it left I could see the patterns of energy swirling within it like wild animals chasing and playing with each other. I can't begin to describe how beautiful it looked to me.

Once things settled down we had someone come in to replace the blasted window the day after the storm. It was two days after that I was alone at home when the news bulletin came on tv.

"…the confirmed apprehension and incarceration of the notorious super villain "Mr. Richtor" who was captured just an hour ago after a spectacular battle in downtown Malibu against members of the Golden Statesmen, California's premiere team of heroes. As our viewers may know, the villain is wanted for a series of spectacular bank and armored car robberies committed all up and down the west coast the past three months. Richtor, as he is called, refers to the "Richtor Scale" used to measure earthquakes. This is because in addition to immense superhuman strength, he is able to generate seismic force waves that can shatter concrete…"

I wasn't listening to the rest, because what I saw made everything else vanish from my mind. I saw Mr. Richtor, a heavily built, muscular man in a green and gray costume. I saw him without his mask.

It was my dad.

Only he wasn't my dad. I don't mean that in a "he can't be my dad, he just looks like him" or "he's not my dad as that's not the way he is at home" way. I mean I realized fully that he was NOT my dad. Period.

I saw the scowling face on tv, and realized that though he also had black hair like I…well, like I USED to have, and was very strong looking, he didn't have the same height, skin color, or eyes like I did.

Then I also realized something else.

Neither did my mom.

I started to kill the tv as the picture on it was making me sick, but I turned around and saw her standing there, staring at me. My mom looked even less like me than "Dad" did. Though she was tall, she had a lean, angular build with rather short light brown hair and pale blue eyes.

"Now you know," she said in a voice I had never heard come out of her before. It was almost like a hiss. Her eyes now had a dangerous look to them.

"What," I answered, "that he's one of the most wanted super criminals in the state? I do now. And I also know he's not my father."

The last part made her visibly wince, and I realized I might have said too much. She got a strange look on her face, like two sides of her personality were fighting for control. Finally the "other" one came to the front, and I really did NOT like this one.

"He was a fool," she said, her eyes shifting back and forth like she was some kind of animal, "he was TOLD not to keep doing it. Now he's endangered all of us…and you…they mustn't find you at all."

What was she talking about? It almost sounded like…

"I've got to get you out of here," she said, her eyes suddenly becoming those of the woman I thought I had once known, "I don't care what happens to me…but you've got to be kept safe. Go out to the garage…grab the money he stashed out there, take all you can carry. Then get to Maxville. Find the Commander and Jetstream. They'll know what to do."

"Why?" I asked, feeling what little world I had start falling apart, "they're super heroes…your husband is a villain…are you one too?"

She nodded her head sadly.

"I'm not your mother either," she said, and it seemed to hurt her to admit it.

"Who are my parents?" I stammered out.

"I can only tell you your father's name," she said, now not even able to look at me, "just go and do as I said, then I'll tell you."

I went out to the garage and found a large old trunk pushed far back behind crates of junk and garbage. It was locked, but when I touched it a surge of electricity shot out of my fingers and blasted the lock open with a loud crack. I was scared for a second, but realized that I wasn't hurt. It had seemed so natural.

Inside was…money. I'd never seen so much in one place at one time. I didn't have time to count it, but I grabbed as much as I could and got back to the house, making sure no one saw me. Paranoia had hit me as well as "Mom".

Back in the house I saw she had gone upstairs and quickly packed a suitcase for me. She also told me she had called the airport and reserved a plane ticket for the next flight to Maxville and a cab was coming to take me there. She took the money and stuffed it into my pockets, telling me that even if they questioned me at security about why I had so much money to just tell them my mother had given it to me as she didn't trust banks or credit card companies.

She rushed me to the door and insisted I meet the cab down the street on the next block. It was less likely to attract attention from the neighbors than if it stopped in front of the house. She then held my face in both her hands and I could see she was crying.

"Be strong, my fledgling," she said, "I'm so sorry you have to fly from the nest so soon. But do as I have said. Find the Commander and Jetstream…especially Jetstream. When you do, tell her that Letha Talone said she was sorry for everything."

So that was my "mom's" real name. I had no idea why that would mean anything to a world famous heroine, but I wasn't about to ask.

"But why would they help me?" I asked, "I'm just some kid from California…I'm nothing special."

"But you are," she smiled, "I knew you were the second you were placed in mine and Richard's charge…and then when the storm struck…it confirmed it. You look so much like your father, and now have power like he does. God grant that you use it wisely."

I look like my father…I have power like my father. The words stuck in my head and wouldn't leave.

"My father?" I said, the final piece I wanted for this puzzle.

She told me my father's name.

Then she rushed me out of the house, stopping only to give me a kiss on the cheek as she slammed the door shut behind me.

I was stunned for a moment, but I did as she told me. I hurried down to the corner just as a cab started to pull up and the driver spotted me.

"You the kid I'm picking up for the airport?"

"Yeah," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, "get me to the airport as fast as you can, and this is your tip."

He grinned in understanding, and didn't ask any questions as I put the suitcase in the trunk and got into the cab. We drove away and I took one last look at the only home I had ever known.

Then I watched it burst into flames.

I almost yelled for the driver to stop the car or turn around so I could go back, but then I saw…I don't know for sure. It looked like a monstrous bird flying away from behind the house under cover of the fire and smoke. A bird…or a person with wings.

I knew that would be the last time I would see my "mom".

Now I'm sitting in my seat on the plane as it takes off. I've never been on a plane before, so I'm a little nervous about flying. But that pales in comparison to what I've got waiting for me when I land.

I have to find the two greatest heroes in the world and tell them my story. "Mom" said it wouldn't be a problem because they would listen the first time they see me, because I look so much like my father.

And that's how I'll introduce myself…using his name.

My name is Justin.

Justin Battle.

To be continued.