Origins of a Hero

By Keith Pratt

Devon Taylor was a lad of 15 years. He was an average kid from a small town in the thumb of Michigan. Then a simple trip to a family funeral shattered his existence forever. This is the saga of DT Train. Maimed by a cowardly act of terror that killed his parents, young Mr. Taylor goes through an extraordinary rehab process that gives him super-human strength and athletic acumen. He will need these talents to fight the man who killed his parents. That is the evil terrorist for hire named Jacque Plastique. Will our hero take revenge? Find out in DT Train: Origins of a Hero.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Keith Pratt
• Release date: Jul 14, 2013

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Origins of a Hero

Published by Keith A. Pratt at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Keith A. Pratt

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Mark McBride (1st Edit) and Dale Dunlap (2nd Edit, Technical Advisor). Special thanks to family and friends who helped out: Colin Mead (Artwork) and M. Lynn Ward (Story Consultant)

Episode I: Origins of a Hero

It was a day like any other, but also, a day unlike any other. The day was cloudy and a storm was coming, but not in the meteorological sense. This storm, while not from the sky, would turn out to be cataclysmic. An act of terrorism would affect not only the intended corporation for sabotage, but also a young lad and his family.

The chain of events was set in motion six months earlier on a dark and evil night. A fearful, trembling figure was walking through the darkness. His shadow was cast against the wall as he passed under the street light. The next moment, a man named Lou Murray heard the following: Stop right there. Is it you Plastique?

Oui, it is Jacque.

I have your compensation. Murray handed over the briefcase to Plastique. The terrorist examined the case. He then closed it and then nodded his head in an acknowledgement of satisfaction as he tucked the case under his arm. Plastique then declared, "It is agreed. You will help me get into your factory and I will plant seven bombs inside seven cars as they are being put together.

Murray stated, Remember, nobody is supposed to get hurt. We are supposed to intimidate management for our upcoming labor negotiations.

Oui, seven bombs will be planted. Three will explode in your facility; four will go off at your company’s dealerships.

How will this happen? asked Mr. Murray.

I will have wired bombs connected to plastic explosives. said Plastique. Murray nodded in agreement and both shadows went their separate ways.

The next day at Pigőt Motors, a car hauler pulled away. It was full of the company’s most popular model: The HHZ 500 sedan. Two days later, explosions rocked the factory. Three bombs went off on the HHZ 500 line. There were no injuries, but the cars were burned beyond recognition and the line was damaged. One week later, Pigőt Motors dealerships across the country were rocked by explosions. One explosion happened in Ohio and the other two explosions occurred in Detroit and Indianapolis. After these incidents, Pigőt Motors had a massive recall. The recall covered 500,000 vehicles across the country. The results, after a major investigation, were as follows: nothing else is wrong. There were no other incidents. The federal government and Pigőt Motors found nothing else wrong. All seems to be clear and the case was closed. The nation forgot about the story and the issues were put to bed… or so we thought!

Six months after our scoundrels convened for their conspiracy, the next chapter in this saga was about to take place. We descend on the small eastern Michigan berg of Goldfinch Pointe. The home of Hugo and Vicky Taylor was a center of frantic activity. Vicky was putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. Hugo had everything organized and was waiting on his spouse. Over in the family room, young Devon Taylor was watching television. Hugo enters the room in order to check things out.

Hugo queried, What are you watching, son?

Fifteen-year-old Devon replied, I am watching this cool TV show about a man who is half man and half machine. I wonder what it would be like to be a cyborg?

Hugo responded, However unlikely that could ever be, I give you the following word of advice: Be careful of what you wish for. Devon silently thought, As if this would ever happen.

The next moment, Vicky walked into the room and exclaimed, I’m ready to go. The Taylor family left the room and filed into their car. The Taylor family had to go to the funeral for Devon’s cousin Angela. They were going to take a trip to Grand Haven, Michigan, which is on the other side of the state. The Taylor’s trip there was an uneventful experience. They arrived on time for the service.

The funeral was a dignified affair. Angie was a beautiful young lady who died too young. She was dead at age fourteen, an unfortunate victim of a hit and run driver who was intoxicated. His blood alcohol level was .16 and the butthead was going to get serious time. The Taylor family reminisced with their relatives after the ceremony. When the socializing was finished, everyone went home. For the Taylor family, the trip home would become a life-changing event.

At approximately 5:00pm, the Taylor family started home to Goldfinch Pointe. The mood in the family sedan was sedate and somber. The Taylor’s HHZ500 (yes, it was brand new—purchased just two weeks ago) turned off US-31 on to M-45 eastbound. Vicky and Devon were having an interesting mother and son chat. Devon was quiet and in an introspective state of mind. Vicky broke the silence with the following inquiry, You thinking about your cousin?

Yeah Devon retorted in a bummed out tone.

I know it’s tough, son. Vicky answered in an empathetic tone.

Vicky then tried to change the subject saying, You want to get home?

Yeah Devon retorted.

Vicky then asked, You’ve got something else on your mind? Devon sat in a silent state of reflection. Vicky then began to pick Devon’s brain in a somewhat humorous manner.

Vicky said, I know what else you’re thinking about. Devon looked blankly ahead into space. Vicky continued, I know, you’re thinking about that red haired girly you have a crush on. Devon remained quiet. Vicky continued, What’s her name? Amy, isn’t it? Devon finally grinned and retorted, Now you are trying to get me depressed. Vicky and Devon both burst into laughter, with the ice finally broken apart.

As this conversation went on, Hugo drove through Allendale, Michigan. Four miles out of Allendale disaster struck. Hugo gritted his teeth as he saw a monster pot hole in the right lane. He was unable to move into the left lane because there was another vehicle in that space. The sedan hit the cavernous monstrosity of a hole at 55 miles per hour. The right side tires blew out. That was only the beginning! The before mentioned vehicle in the left lane was a pickup truck. At that instant the left side front of the sedan lifted up. The next catalyst was that some hard debris flew off the truck and went under the elevated left front wheel. The car flipped on its side and it began to slide down the embankment. This was just short of the bridge over the Grand River (the embankment). The car then smashed into a huge solid tree. On the downward side, Devon started to hear a noticeable ticking sound. The impact was horrific. The front of the sedan was crushed and caved in completely. Upon the impact, there was also a loud explosion in the back of the car.

The back seat flew off the assembly (with Devon in it) and smacked the front seat. The sedan came to rest against the abovementioned tree. Chaos prevailed by the river. The noise of the emergency vehicle convoy added to the menagerie. The rescue workers descended on the crash site with the Jaws of Life. The horror of the spectacle was all over the EMT’s faces. Then there was a loud bone-chilling shriek.

HEY!! Let’s hurry; the kid in the back is alive! Devon was freed and air lifted to Parkay Hospital in Grand Rapids, Michigan. The kid made it to the hospital where he was in critical condition. Hugo and Vicky Taylor were pronounced dead at the scene.

At the scene, a county sheriff’s deputy yelled, Hey Joe, check this out! A dark clad state trooper walked over to the crumpled mass and observed the mess of what was on the back seat.

Don’t touch this; I need to call an explosives expert.

Ok said the deputy.

The scene was guarded like Fort Knox. Two hours later, the bomb and forensic teams were on the scene. After the work was done, the chief of the State Police Crime Lab talked to Joe. You were right to call me. This fits the same patter as three bombs that were found around the country in cars at different dealerships.

How do you know? asked trooper Joe.

Simple, it’s very simple. The same plastic explosive and detonation device are present at the scene.

Joe further queried, Why did this bomb take so long to detonate?

The chief responded, I found a short in the wire on the device. It reactivated when the car was jarred by the contact, possibly a pothole or debris on the road.

One night later, the scene shifts to the intensive care unit on the fourteenth floor at Parkay Hospital. At the end of a dark hallway, there was a faintly lighted room with only the noise of the medical machines in operation. Young Devon Taylor was clinging to his 15 year old existence. In the midst of the darkness, a tall, lanky figure wandered into Devon’s hospital room. This figure was Dr. Jonas Walker, a respected physician at Parkay Hospital. Devon’s EKG reading was normal and so was his EEG. Dr. Walker, an African-American man in his mid forties was pondering over young Taylor’s predicament.

Dr. Walker contemplated, He is alive, but barely. His legs and right arm are non-functional and permanently impaired. I will have to take action. He cannot be left to live like this. Jonas then left the room with a focused determination on a