Novelty Heroes

By Tyler H. Jolley

Did you know that you can buy a Russian nuclear submarine or a decommissioned WWII tank in the back of a comic book? Neither do Nate and Corey until they find vintage, obscure comic books in Nate's late grandmother's attic. Little do they know that the cheap cardboard subs and water pistol plasma guns that they purchase for a few nickels will come to life.

Instead of spending their summer at the pool or riding bikes, they fly around in hover cars, bounce around in space shoes, and test their incredible strength with a Hercules bracelet. But when it comes down to who actually owns and controls the novelties . . . well, that's a different story.

With a power struggle and popularity on the line, Nate and Corey's once rock-solid friendship is severed and their friends are forced to pick sides. A war is waged with cardboard tanks and milk jug flame throwers. Innocent fun turns an abandoned factory into a war zone. The consequences of the novelty war has unintended consequences —one that could be permanent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tyler H. Jolley
• Release date: Jun 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958734025

Tyler H. Jolley

As a kid, Tyler H. Jolley always had a knack for storytelling. When he grew bored of old fables, he created his own exciting and unique worlds. Many years later, he still had so many new ideas and stories swirling in his head, but with nowhere to share it. That’s when he put his pencil to paper and let the creative juices flow. His breakthrough novel, EXTRACTED, came out in 2013 and swiftly became an Amazon Best Seller and Spencer Hill Press Best Seller. Since then, Tyler has been busy publishing over a dozen books. He reexamined the publishing process and created an efficient way to get his countless ideas into print.  Tyler definitely didn’t like to work alone, so he restructured his writing methods into a team approach.  When he’s not writing, you can find him at his orthodontic practice, mountain biking, or on the hunt for the perfect doughnut. Twitter: @Docjolley Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tyler.jolley.319/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tylerhjolley/

Book preview

Prologue

One more step. One more little step, and that stupid, arrogant freak would fall to his death.

Corey edged closer, trying to push Nate back along the rickety wood plank. The wind whipped up the side of the factory, tousling Nate’s shaggy brown hair. The factory’s rooftop security light washed across Nate’s pale face, making the streaks of red from his bleeding nose look even darker.

Four stories would do it. No way he would survive that kind of fall. Good riddance. To Nate. To the Watchguards. To this whole freaking mess they were in.

Corey, Nate said. Please, it doesn’t have to be like this. What do you want?

Was Nate crying? Total baby! Always was and always would be. He was scared, too, Corey could tell.

Jabbering.

Blubbering.

Begging.

If only the others could see him now. Their fearless leader.

You want to order? Nate continued. You can order. Just stop! Order for the barn. I’m fine with that. We can work something out.

Ordering?! Corey shouted.

You want the hat? Nate reached up and pulled a ratty, dirt-covered hat off his head and held it toward Corey. That hat . . . That ugly captain’s hat, barely even hanging together after all this fighting. Corey could trace the hat back to the start of all this trouble. Now Nate was begging for him to take it? Ha!

You really think this is about the stupid knickknacks? Your hat? Corey yelled. It’s about you, Nate. It’s about somebody finally putting you in your place.

Under Nate’s feet, the plank rocked slightly. His arms pinwheeled in a frantic attempt to stay steady.

It wouldn’t be murder, Corey told himself. They were trespassing already. It was an accident. Nobody would know what had really happened up here.

Besides, Nate deserved it. This was where being so smug had landed him. This was Nate’s price for treating Corey and the others like slaves. For manipulating them all into thinking he was better.

One more step.

And if Nate wasn’t going to take it on his own, maybe Corey could help him. Wasn’t that what Professor Boss was all about—making sure people did what he told them to do?

But Corey wasn’t like Professor Boss. He’d never wanted to be. The real question was . . . What would the Maniac do?

Corey kicked down. His heel made contact with the edge of the plank. The board bucked, and Nate let out a single piercing scream as he tumbled off the edge of the roof into the black night.

A few weeks and many novelties earlier

Chapter 1

Nate squinted at Jed in disbelief. Dude. You’d say that with your sister sitting right next to you?

Caitlin only shrugged and turned to her little brother. He’s said worse, she muttered.

Yeah, Jed said. Besides. What’s said in your grandma’s attic stays in your grandma’s attic.

You’re a friggin’ creep. Nate pulled open the flaps of another cardboard box, sending a layer of dust cascading onto his shorts.

Jed shrugged. I’m just saying, I’m surprised you don’t have more aunts and uncles. Your grandma was super hot. He tilted the framed picture he was holding, digging his other hand into his pocket for his phone. I’ve got this app that adds color to old pictures. I bet your grandma—

Caitlin held her phone up and stepped in front to take a selfie. Speaking of pictures, this might be the last time we will ever be in your grandma’s house. Smile everyone. The moment was captured with the group and a dusty, old attic in the background.

Let me see, Nate said.

Caitlin zoomed in on each of their faces. She was the prettiest girl Nate knew. Curly brown hair framing a heart-shaped face. Her piercing green eyes sparkled in every photo Nate saw of her, including this one. Of course, Jed was flipping off the camera, his red hair sweaty and freckles almost disappearing from his flushed face. He was the strongest and most in-shape of the group, but he always said that he ran hot. Nate’s hair was a brown mess, and it reminded him he needed a haircut. He had cowlicks on top of cowlicks, and there was no rhyme or reason for it. He stood a few inches taller than Corey. This time, Corey’s blue eyes looked at Nate with excitement. He had bent to one knee and had his lips pressed together.

Jed grabbed Caitlin’s phone and zoomed in on himself. Yup, me and Grandma could have dated. Dang, I look good.

Enough! Corey snatched the picture, setting it facedown out of Jed’s reach.

Thank you, Nate thought. Jed was funny, but sometimes he took it too far. Grandma had only been in the ground for a couple of weeks. Feelings were still sensitive. Just shut up and sort boxes, Jed.

Seriously, Jed, are you turning thirteen or three this year? Caitlin rolled her eyes. You’re so gross.

Thanks for reminding me that’s coming up. Is now a good time to tell you guys what to get me? No? Jed smirked. Corey hates this time of year. For three sweet months, I’m the oldest guy in the group.

Corey hefted a roll of grimy, yellowed linoleum. Am I putting this in the ‘definitely save’ pile?

Scrap it, Nate said.

Corey chuckled. Grandma was probably going to cover the bathroom with this crap. He shoved the heavy roll toward the attic’s exit, and Nate thought he saw a little emotion pulling at the corners of the other kid’s mouth.

In a weird way, it was nice to know Corey was having a hard time with this, too. He wasn’t family, but Corey had spent almost as much time with Grandma as Nate had.

Caitlin’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at the text. Erik’s not coming.

Good, Jed said. Don’t want him getting any ideas with Grandma’s old pictures.

Seriously! Nate yelled, pointing at Jed. Who invited him?

Jed doesn’t get invited, Jed answered. Jed just shows up.

Yeah, well, Jed sounds stupid when he talks about himself in the third person, Corey said.

Can I keep this? Caitlin held up an old painting of a zebra standing in a field of horses. It’s weird, she said. I like it.

Nate shrugged. Run it by my mom. She said it was mostly junk up here. Why do you think I got the job of cleaning it out?

Wait, Jed said. "You’re telling me that this embroidered lampshade is junk?" He stuck it over his head, coughing at the resulting cloud of dust.

You should keep that on, Caitlin said. Forever. It’s so much better looking than your dome.

Corey lifted his chin to get Nate’s attention. You got the knife? He strained against a cardboard box that seemed heavier than it should have been. This one’s actually taped shut. Feels like books.

"Ooh, 101 Secrets to Staying Sexy in Your Seventies," Jed said.

Nate made a pretend swipe at Jed with the box knife as he moved across the attic to Corey’s side. The yellowed packing tape looked fuzzy with dust as the thin blade sliced along the box’s opening. Before Nate had even finished cutting through the tape, Corey popped the flaps open.

Dust motes turned and shimmered as the summer sunlight from the attic’s small window spilled into the cardboard box.

Comic books, Nate whispered. This was cool, right? He glanced at Corey, and the obvious excitement on his best friend’s face confirmed it as he pulled out the first issue on top of the stack.

DC or Marvel? Caitlin asked.

Nate examined the comic book in Corey’s hands. The colors had faded; the binding was nothing more than a few rusty staples. It was printed on pages that looked like newspaper, yellowed with age.

Neither, Corey said. "Heroes & Villains. He looked up. Never heard of it."

Your grandma just keeps getting better, Jed said, suddenly appearing at Nate’s side and pulling the next issue from the cardboard box. She was into indie comic books.

Grandma had never struck Nate as the nerdy comic-book type. But this was quite the big collection!

These could be worth some money, you know, Caitlin said. They look like they’re in pretty good condition. She examined the back of one. And they’re over fifty years old.

Gee, Nate said. Maybe we should be wearing rubber gloves for this.

Jed yanked one out of the box and blew the dust off, which promptly caused him to sneeze a million droplets across the cover. If we sell them, he said, we might have enough money to fix up the factory hangout.

Why would we want to fix it up? Corey asked. The whole point of hanging out there is that it’s abandoned. Nobody cares.

"I’m not saying we turn it into a real factory, moron. What would we even . . . factorize? I’m just saying we could afford to buy some nice couches and a hot tub, Jed said. Maybe run power out there and get a fridge."

Nate was carefully thumbing through his own issue of Heroes & Villains, the hokey pictures made even worse by the cheesy text.

Dude, Nate muttered. "Professor Boss does not like Russians."

Who’s Professor Boss? Corey asked.

Nate shrugged. This dude, I guess. He showed his friends the page he was looking at. The hero—wearing a tight purple jumpsuit and mask—had two Russian thugs by their necks, clacking their heads together with a colorful POW!

What’s his superpower? Corey asked.

You mean, besides rocking that sick purple skintight jumpsuit? Jed chimed in.

Personally, Corey said, I’d want to be this guy. He flipped his comic book around to show the others.

There was a disproportionately muscled figure in a bright green cape. He had a stupid-looking horn coming out of his forehead, and Nate couldn’t tell if it was actually growing from his head or if it was supposed to be part of the mask.

Jed cracked up. Haha! Hornyman! Definitely the best superhero.

He’s throwing a school bus off a bridge, Caitlin pointed out. I’m pretty sure he’s not a superhero.

Supervillain, Jed said with obvious admiration in his voice.

What’s his name? Nate asked. It definitely wouldn’t actually be Hornyman.

I don’t know, Corey said. I’m not really reading it. To prove his point, he thumbed through the final pages and closed the issue.

Hang on, Nate said. What was that in the back?

Corey flicked the comic book open to the last page again. It was different than the storyboard panels they’d been looking at before. Looks like ads, he said. To buy stuff.

What kind of stuff? Caitlin asked.

Junk, Corey said. Lots of it.

Nate turned to the back of his own issue. More here. Look at this one. Flame thrower. Fifty-five cents.

Ooh, Caitlin said. That’s a rip-off. I usually buy my flame throwers for thirty cents apiece.

X-ray vision glasses, Corey said. For a quarter.

Yes, please, Jed chimed in. I’ll take a pair of those.

Pervert, Caitlin muttered.

What do you think this stuff really was? Nate asked. I mean, back in the day? What did people get when they ordered something?

Probably just flimsy plastic, Jed said. Or cardboard props. Made kids feel cool. Like superheroes.

Heat-seeking missile, Caitlin said, reading from her own comic book.

Hovercraft, Corey said.

Dude. There’s a straight-up Russian war tank right here. Nate tapped the ad.

We should order something, Corey said.

How? Nate laughed. These are so old.

There’s a phone number at the bottom. Jed pulled out his cell phone. I’ll text them. What do we wanna get?

You can’t text a phone number from fifty years ago, Caitlin said. You probably can’t even call it.

Besides, Nate said, it’s all junk. He flicked the ads. It would be the biggest waste of money.

Nah, Corey pressed. It’s all supercheap crap. Besides, Mr. Swenson paid me extra for edging his lawn after I mowed yesterday. He pulled a wrinkled five-dollar bill from his pocket. I’ve got cash right here. Old-fashioned money.

I’m calling it, Jed said, squinting at the numbers.

Mom will kill you if she sees you called an unknown number, Caitlin pointed out to her brother. He paused, scrunching up his freckly face, as if trying to decide whether it was worth the risk.

Heck, Nate said, I’ll call it.

He punched in the number and pressed the phone to his ear.

Ring. Ring.

Holy crap, you guys! Nate whispered. Someone answered!

Chapter 2

Corey leaned forward. Put it on speaker! he urged.

Caitlin was probably right. The number was surely too old to be linked to the ads in the back of the comic book. But a random number might be even better. They could prank whoever answered and get a good laugh.

Nate clicked the speaker button and held the phone out as a prerecorded message sounded through the attic.

Thank you for calling Novelty Knickknacks and Whatnots Inc. If you would like to order an item, please press one. If you would like to speak to an operator, press two. If you would like to create an account for repeat ordering, please press three. If you need to hear this message again, please press four.

Ahh! Nate shouted. What do I press?

Press one! Press one! Jed chanted.

Too late, Nate said. I hung up.

Dude! Corey shouted. Nate had a way of chickening out in the heat of the moment. Like last summer, when he wouldn’t jump from the bridge into Westing Reservoir. His panic attack had made Erik slip and fall before he was ready to jump.

Call back! Corey said. Let’s order something.

Like what? Nate said.

I dunno. Corey waggled his hard-earned five-dollar bill. The most expensive thing we can find.

What about this plasma gun? Caitlin asked, pointing at the back of the comic book. It’s two ninety-nine.

Bigger, Corey said.

The war tank? Jed said.

Or there’s this nuclear submarine? Nate poked his finger at the faded ad. Like ordering a nuclear submarine was normal.

How much? Corey asked.

Five ninety-nine, Nate said.

Same as the tank, Jed added. I say we get the tank. What are we gonna do with a nuclear sub?

What are we going to do with a nuclear sub? Corey repeated, laughing. Guys, whatever we want.

Either way, they’re not real, Nate said. The tank or the sub? They’re both going to be pieces of junk, anyway. Just gonna fall apart.

Nate dug in his pocket and pulled out a coin. Heads, it’s the sub. Tails, the tank.

The coin flashed in the dusty attic as Nate flicked it into the air. He missed the catch on the way down, and it rolled on its edge across the attic, circling once in a big loop before falling to its side in front of Corey.

Heads! One nuclear submarine, coming right up, Corey said, plucking up the quarter.

Call the number again, Caitlin said.

A moment later, Nate’s phone was lying on the stack of old comic books, the prerecorded message playing on the speaker.

Press one, Corey whispered after the first option.

Nate hit the button and the recording continued.

After the tone, please say the name of the item you would like to order.

Beeeeeeeep.

Nuclear submarine, Nate said, using a dumb voice with an exaggerated accent.

The recording continued. After the tone, please leave the address where you would like the item shipped.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.

My grandma’s house, Nate said in the same dumb accent.

That’s not an address, idiot, Caitlin said, smacking his arm.

Who cares? Nate said. We’re just messing around.

Hey! Corey snapped jokingly. That’s my precious money you’re messing around with.

It was too late anyway—the recorded voice had moved on to the next section of the order.

Please mail your payment to 311 Clearbrook Avenue, Dayton, Ohio, 45506.

"Write that