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[b]A GROWING PROBLEM – PART III[/b]

“You know what the worst part about working here is?” Greg asks me. Greg Tanner is my coworker at Tons of Buns. It’s a fast food burger joint located inside the Duncan Commons. The Commons are where you go if you’re willing to pay money to avoid the dining hall food. There’s the aforementioned burger joint, a local coffee shop, a Subway, and even a pizza place in the basement. Students get a nice discount at all the eateries, which is nice. There’s also a convenience store and a bank, so it’s really one-stop shopping for all a college student’s needs.

And yes, I work part-time at a fast food place. Being a superhero is certainly rewarding, but it doesn’t exactly pay the bills.

I turn and look at Greg. “You mean other than having to put ‘Tons of Buns’ on our resumes?”

“Touche,” Greg concedes. He’s taller than I am. A little more broad-shouldered, too. His brown hair pokes out from underneath the regulation baseball cap that we have to wear. It’s either that or a hair net. He leans back against the counter. “Nah, man, it’s that damn employee discount. I get off work and just stuff my face with chicken fries.” He rubs his stomach disappointedly. “It’s killing me. I really need to get back to the gym.”

I look down at my own body. I was always in decent shape, but the serum in my blood has certainly been kind to me. An accelerated metabolism means I burn fat and build muscle faster. In the past few months since my transformation, I’ve gotten lean and mean. Still, I say, “Yeah, I hear ya.”

Greg nods in my direction. “What about you, Sean? You ever get to the gym?”

I look away and try to act nonchalant. “Uh, the gym? Not so much. I mean, I work out on my own.” Yeah, running across rooftops and dodging bullets. Hell of a workout.

“That so?” Greg asks. “Well, you should invite me along sometime. I’m always looking for new workouts.”

At this, I perk up. Gotta deflect somehow. “I, uh, don’t think you’d be interested in [i]my[/i] workout,” I suggest. “It’s very… experimental.”

Nonetheless, he seems interested. “Huh. Well, that’s cool. Do you know what it’s called? I’ll look it up.”

“Um… I don’t think it has a name yet,” I answer evasively. “Like I said, it’s [i]really[/i] experimental…”

Greg smiles unassumingly, and I’m happy to be in the clear. “Well, that’s awesome, man. You’ll have to let me know if it gets results.” He turns around and faces the food court. “Man, slow shift today, huh?”

Now that he mentions it, it [i]has[/i] been quiet around here. “Yeah, usually this is about the time for the pre-dinner rush,” I reply. No sooner have these words left my lips than a group of panicked-looking students comes sprinting through the Commons. I arch an eyebrow and say, “Not exactly what I meant…”

Moments later, our manager Al appears from the kitchen. “We’re packing up early, boys,” he announces, and I can tell by his tone that something is up. “Apparently, there’s some kind of ‘superhuman’ incident going on down by the stadium. Campus police wants us all cleared out as a precaution.”

I feel my pulse immediately quicken. [i]A superhuman incident?[/i] That can only spell bad news. I look at Greg. “Well, I guess you’ve been spared those chicken fries today at least. Catch you Thursday?” We exchange nods and head off in separate directions. I rush to the backroom where I keep my bag during the shift. A quick check confirms that my gloves, boots, and mask are still tucked away in the hidden compartment where I left them. I take the stairs to the roof, and then it’s time for a quick change.

Conway-Kane Memorial Stadium is a stone’s throw from the Duncan Commons. With seating for over sixty-five thousand screaming fans, it’s the second largest football stadium in New England. Students and alumni alike gather on Saturdays in the fall to cheer on the LHU Red Claws. The team rarely threatens to make a run for the ACC Championship, but they usually finish with a respectable record. LHU is more of a hockey school, anyway.

As I reach the stadium, I see a strange sight. One of the football players – a linebacker, I believe – is strung up from the field goal posts by some green ropes. Upon a second glance, I notice that the ropes are twisting and moving. That’s when I realize that they aren’t ropes at all. They’re… vines. How odd. I extend the exoskeleton from my wrists and shape it into blades with a thought. Leaping through the air, I effortlessly slash through the vines on one side of the snared player.

Upon landing, I spin on my heels and prepare for another pass to slash the other vines. Before I can jump, though, I’m blindsided by something moving incredibly fast. The force of the impact throws me into the stands. I crash into the wooden bleachers, snapping a row clean in half. I look up to see an even larger vine with the diameter of a small tree. As it retracts, I spot the source of all this weirdness.

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“This doesn’t concern you,” the green-haired kid announces sternly.

I pull myself to my feet. “As a resident superhero and passionate Red Claw fan, I have to disagree,” I answer back.

The kid scowls. “You don’t understand.” He points to the barely conscious football player, still dangling from a vine. “This guy tormented me for [i]years[/i]. He made my life a living hell! He [i]deserves[/i] this!”

That’s what this is about? Payback for years of bullying? “I’m not absolving him of anything he may or may not have done,” I explain, “but look at yourself. Look at what you’re doing. Are you acting any better than he did?”

His expression hardens. “Don’t lecture me! You don’t know the first thing about what I’ve been through!” He thrusts his hand forward, and the giant vine from earlier obeys his command. This time, at least, I see it coming. I leap to the side moments before the vine crashes against the bleachers, splintering about twenty rows of seats. “Stay out of my way, or you’ll end up like him!”

“Sorry, chief, but I can’t do that.”

He grimaces. “Then you’ve made your choice. Prepare to die by Foliage’s hand!”

[i]Oh, brother.[/i]