The Enhancers: Never Fight Friends Alone

By Y.H. Drover

In coastal Aquamarine, a sun-filled city overflowing with pink sand beaches, outlandish tourist attractions, and overpriced suntan lotion, lives twelve-year-old Johnny Lavender and his friends. Months ago, the four received experimental metal bracelets created by reptilian aliens. The bracelets grant them amazing physical prowess, necessary for the enormous task of hunting down the last remaining remnants of the Skrize, an evil organization bent on returning to their home planet in order to conquer it.

The kids failed.

As a result, the young team broke up. These days, Johnny works alone, doing what he can with his power to save his city from more localized villains like gangsters wielding rare magical items and traders dealing in illegal hi-tech weapons.

Again, he fails.

Thankfully, the city already has a protector. The telekinetic hero saves Johnny, and together they decide to clean up Aquamarine City. Unfortunately, that path leads the heroic duo directly against Johnny's former teammates! Why are his estranged friends working with power-hungry criminals? And can they and a scornful Johnny somehow patch things up before the hero of Aquamarine's well-hidden desire to kill lawbreakers he deems too dangerous takes them all down-permanently?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Y.H. Drover
• Release date: Sep 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223131649

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Y.H. Drover

The Enhancers: Never Fight Friends Alone

Copyright © 2023 by Y.H. Drover

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Y.H. Drover asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

First edition

Cover art by LazyTurtle

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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Contents

CHAPTER 1——TRESPASSERS

CHAPTER 2——FLIMFLAM

CHAPTER 3——HOUSE CALL

CHAPTER 4——A HERO ARRIVES

CHAPTER 5——YAZU & JACKHAMMER

CHAPTER 6——MESOSPHERE

CHAPTER 7——TOURISTS

CHAPTER 8——CREDIT CURE

CHAPTER 9——APPOINTMENT

CHAPTER 10--—FRIENDLY FIRE

CHAPTER 11——HELLO MONEY TREE

CHAPTER 12——GOODBYE MONEY TREE

CHAPTER 13--—BREAK UP

CHAPTER 14——SUNRISE

CHAPTER 15——OUTPOST ATTACK

CHAPTER 16——POWER UP

CHAPTER 17——BLAME GAME

CHAPTER 18--—2 + 1 + 1 =

CHAPTER 19——HUMMUS JUNIOR HIGH

CHAPTER 20——THE ENHANCERS

CHAPTER 21——SCHOOL’S SCHOOL’S OUT

EPILOGUE——SEASON FINALE

CHAPTER 1——TRESPASSERS

Lucky activated his enhancer bracelet, one of only four on Earth. Every cell, tissue, and organ throughout his canine body surged with power. Once again, he felt powerful. Confident. Unbreakable. And, very cold.

Stupid snow, he mumbled, rubbing his furry reddish-orange arms, breath clouds visible in the crisp afternoon air. A nearby thirty-foot mechanical snowman continued spewing winter through its rotating mouth, ignoring Lucky’s misery. Lucky’s short-sleeve button shirt and shorts did nothing to save him from coldness the massive snow generator created. Don’t tell anyone I forgot to bring a jacket to a secret snow base.

The snowman didn’t answer, but Lucky wasn’t talking to it. His human friend, Kevin, didn’t respond either ; his attention placed solely on Esker Bluff Mansion’s security panel placed beside a metal door with no handle. The door, like the rest of the fake gingerbread mansion walls, were painted brown to resemble the novelty dessert. I still want one, Kevy, Lucky continued , trying to grab the boy’s attention. Not the puking snowblower over there. An itty-bitty snowman for pumpin’ out snowballs. And, snow cones. Can’t forget that. Remind me later, okay?

Has to be the guard’s entrance, Kevin finally responded, talking more to himself than to Lucky. Well, the snow tracks obviously lead from it, but judging by the panel — Kevin yelped, his hands furiously brushing away the snow that hit the back of his exposed neck and orange hair.

Thanks for not tellin’ me to dress warmer , Lucky said sarcastically. He threw another snowball, but Kevin saw it coming and ducked out of the way. Lucky pouted at his friend, jealous that he wasn’t wearing pants and a long-sleeve shirt too. Whether a suman, like Lucky, or a human, no one born in Aquamarine could tolerate the cold for long.

Already over the prank, Kevin’s tangerine eyes fixated on a security ring belonging to an unfortunate canine guard they had stopped from sounding the alarm, now lying face down in the snow. Let’s warm up inside.

Lucky took the ring and then propped the guard’s unconscious body against the wall. Gotta be respectful, Kevy. Hidden cameras might be watchin’. Laughing, he handed Kevin the ring and then snatched the guard’s knit cap for his own. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind. The metal door slid open. Gold, Mr. Lance. And in record time. Congratulatory pats barraged Kevin Lance’s shoulder.

Not my doing, Mr. Broadsword, Kevin said with a worried face. He took out his muphone and the guard’s stolen ring, the former’s screen off. I didn’t use Bopapy.

No hackin’? Lucky asked, eyeing snow-topped trees and candy cane posts for actual cameras. He wasn’t sure before, but Ramen Butch must know they’re here by now. No worries, Kevy. All part of the plan. Lucky steeled himself and poked his head through the doorway; a small, dark hallway greeted him. No guards.

Kevin gripped his backpack straps, eyes darting from side to side in what Lucky knew was him thinking of different scenarios for where this unexpected development could lead. Lucky’s own muphone beeped. A minute later, Kevin gave his analysis. It’ll be easy to dispose of our bodies inside. But, even easier to lock us out. Maybe we should use the front door? Um, Lucky?

Lucky chuckled at the reply text he sent to the most delusional among his friends. Check it out, Kevy. ‘Going to Donte’s. Ask her to patrol. U in?’ Lucky snorted. Dude still livin’ in the Crone Age. He returned his muphone to his back pocket.

What did you tell Johnny? Kevin asked.

Told him if Donny lets him through the door, I’ll give him a hundred dolas. A thousand if they patrol. Idiot. Lucky gestured for Kevin to follow him inside. Come on. Smart dudes like Ramen don’t sweat the small break-ins. Trust the plan. He held up his left wrist showing off his red open-cuff enhancer. Just a couple helpless kids completely at his mercy, right?

Lucky took a couple steps inside and waited. No way could he face one of the most dangerous people in Aquamarine without backup. Kevin took a quick glance at his own copper-colored enhancer for reassurance and then followed suit, with the two soon emerging behind a shelf inside a small room containing a table and two chairs. Oh, the classic hidden passage. Can’t have a secret base without it, Lucky commented.

From there they found themselves behind a double-return staircase at the back of Esker Bluff’s front lobby. They moved to the center of the room and took in the extravagance: a gold ceiling held up by marble pillars, owl statues made of spotless white stone, and the vintage owl paintings hanging on every wall. Old-fashioned furniture decorated a seating area to the right, intertwined with the latest digital clocks and a kiosk sporting a high-definition screen shifting through various owl poses.

Everything here invoked a leader who has money to burn. Lucky felt envious but didn’t forget who owned all this. With gray eyes and pointy ears on high alert, he scanned the enormous area. With his enhancer bracelet activated, he’d know if anyone were hiding. No one’s here , Lucky said, frowning. Because, as we know, all big-time gangsters never have guards patrollin’ inside their hideout. Let’s head upstairs. Bet you five dolas he’s in a giant chair all ‘I was expecting you’ and crap.

Naturally. After all, I’m perfection incarnate.

Lucky and Kevin spotted a light-brown canine with blond hair sitting on the stained wooden stairs. He looked fresh out of high school and wore a white, buttoned collar shirt, a blue tie with yellow owl eye patterns, blue pants, and a black belt featuring an owl head buckle. Lucky wanted to ask if the guy sleeps with an owl plushie, and, more importantly, how’d he get there without detection, but now’s not the time. They’d found their target.

Thought you were older, Lucky said, a smile hiding his uneasiness at being taken by surprise. But, this revelation could work out even better in his favor. Someone young should be more willing to listen to a kid like him.

Ramen Butch sized them up. Child assassins, he mused. Eleven? Twelve? A bit tasteless, if you ask me.

Lucky’s muscles tensed as he inspected the seemingly larger lobby once more. He knew a criminal mastermind would never approach unidentified intruders alone even if they’re kids. An image of the unconscious guard Kevin had knocked out before inspecting the security panel popped in Lucky’s mind; a preemptive explanation seemed to be in order in case the guard is a friend. Um, sorry about your lackey. He’s just sleepin’, Lucky explained. Cool mini-golf park by the way.

Esker Bluff Mansion sat on the park’s outskirts mostly hidden by imported pine trees and a fake, but very electrified, peppermint colored fence. Ramen had mastered the art of hiding in plain sight.

Makin’ your HQ part of the snow course background, nice. Dude, makin’ a snow course in Aquamarine period was total genius. So, why we are here? Glad you asked. Like yourself, we’re businessmen, not assassins. Easy to confuse the two, right?

Ramen Butch glanced down at Lucky’s tapping foot.

Lucky cleared his throat and announced, My name’s Yazu, and he’s Granti. And, before you ask, yes, he’s a boy. Looks just like his mom at that age. Well, without the spiky hair. He turned to Kevin. Or, did she? Kevin shrugged. Lucky faced Ramen again ; the gangster’s expression looking as cold as the temperature outside his home. A classic play meant to intimidate and dominate conversational flow. Perfect. Convincing others is easier when they think they’re in control. Lucky continued. Listen, Ramen. If I may have a few minutes of your precious time, my furless friend and I would like you to invest in—

It’s Mr. Butch, brat, Ramen interrupted, studying the two from top to bottom once again. Lucky assumed he’s looking for visible weapons. Ramen sauntered down the stairs, eyes now looking through him and Kevin as he spoke. My time is as precious as my unnatural obsession with owls. If you’re not here to murder me, you can see yourself out.

Another point for Donny, Lucky thought, confirming her belief that all rich people are evil and/or insane. Crazy or not, Lucky won’t back down. Ramen’s base wasn’t cheap to find nor was the information about his inner circle all being abroad on business, which, to Lucky, meant fewer obstacles between him and the big boss. Who knows if he and Ramen would ever get another chance to meet face to face like this. Desperation swelled up inside him. Listen, I spent nine-hundred dolas getting’ info you’d be here today. So, pause the jerk party for one minute and I promise you my idea will make us rich. Well, richer in your case. One. Minute.

As if on cue, Kevin pulled out a portfolio and a bag of trail mix from his backpack. We spent days on our presentation, Sir, he said, then shook the bag. Snack?

Ramen rotated his neck and shoulders. Your funeral.

Lucky tried calling him out on his threat, but just then the mansion’s front doors flew open. Two figures walked into the lobby. One, a big white feline dressed in purple army fatigues and holding a similar colored minigun, a grenade launcher hugging his back. The other, tall, was covered in dark green armor , a sheathed black hilt sword strapped behind him.

The mystery guests’ violent entrance sent Lucky and Kevin fleeing into the main hallway on the lobby’s right side. They watched in amazement as Ramen continued body stretching, disinterested in his newest intruders. Bet you’re glad we didn’t use the front door, Lucky whispered to Kevin.

Kevin’s eyebrows narrowed at his once impeccable portfolio papers spilled out across the carpet. I worked hard on that.

Calm winds, Kevy, Lucky said. Just enjoy the show. He grinned in anticipation. We’re about to see a Cardinal Point in action.

Ramen’s stretch workout ended with his arms raised in surrender. You must allow I, the genius Ramen Butch, one question before dying. Who sent you?

The feline pointed the six-barrel minigun at Ramen and answered, Does it matter? Rapid-fire bullets bombarded Ramen.

In the hallway entrance, Lucky gasped, wondering why someone rumored to be a criminal genius never called his guards or ran away. In fact, why was his mansion security so lax? Sure, his top lieutenants were away, but where were all the common guards? Lucky and Kevin had only seen the one outside. He received his answer when he noticed the feline’s boisterous bullets shredding the staircase directly behind Ramen, but not the grinning suman himself.

His attacker’s delighted face morphed to one of worry ; the ineffective execution stopping. Hologram? the feline asked his partner before coming to his own conclusion. They’re back! He dived behind a pillar for cover seconds before unknown gunfire struck where he had stood. Do something, Black Knight! the feline’s screechy voice commanded.

Bullets bounced off Black Knight’s armor as he shifted to face a broad owl statue. Aye, Indigo, he told the now named feline. Will do my duty post haste. He unsheathed his sword, its shadowy blade as black as its hilt , and with his weapon in hand, the knight took three steps before launching forward like a rocket, slicing the owl in half.

Whoa, Ramen said, his voice coming out from a mysterious person wearing a white bodysuit laced with strange silver circuit-type lines and holding a white gun. Where did he come from? From Lucky’s viewpoint, the Bodysuit Guy appeared beside the statue out of nowhere. Esker Bluff’s newest weirdo readjusted the white helmet covering his entire head while making a hasty retreat behind the staircase. Lucky noticed this guy seemed taller than Ramen despite sounding exactly like the Sevai’s young gang leader. Good instincts, soup can, he praised Black Knight while still hidden. Don’t suppose you’d go for a one-on-one? Ramen sounded more casual ; his words no longer containing hubris.

Indigo left the safety of the pillar and approached the staircase, however, stopping a clear distance back from Black Knight. Give us Butch, he demanded. After a brief pause, he added, And that suit, and maybe you don’t want to walk outta here in a body bag.

Lucky wished he had the guts to ask him how a dead guy could walk inside a body bag.

Indigo steadied his minigun and yelled, Hey, Black Knight! Don’t damage the suit too much. Didn’t take a genius for Lucky to guess Indigo stayed back in case Bodysuit Guy (By this point, Lucky doubted Ramen was anywhere near this mess, let alone being the one in the weird suit.) tried to escape.

Black Knight advanced, one slow step at a time, closer to the staircase. No promises, good sir, he said, lifting his sword to strike at a moment’s notice. The knight must have sensed something outside his field of vision and turned. Too late. He crashed against a wall, an old-looking owl painting falling on the swordsman’s metal helmet-protected head. Lucky and Kevin saw what then happened; a bulky dark-blue canine in a suit—the classic tie and jacket kind—had proceeded to kick Black Knight in the ribs.

The hell? Indigo asked slack-jawed.

Another one, Kevin said to Lucky. We should probably see ourselves out.

Lucky chuckled at the growing insanity. I just want to know if this is a typical Thursday around here.

Before Indigo could start a counterattack against the blue canine, Bodysuit Guy charged out from behind the staircase and pinned the feline behind the right side of the stairs with cover fire. About time, Broil, he snapped in an older scratchy voice, no longer sounding anything like Ramen.

Broil straightened his bow tie and sang, Voice exercises cooome first.

Broil and Rack, Indigo said, glaring from the blue canine to the Bodysuit Guy, confirming he’s not Ramen. That bastard promised you were out the country. I’m getting paid double for this!

Lucky cupped hands around his mouth, pretending to yell, but instead whispered to Indigo, Use your indoor voice.

Broil wasted no time in using his massive strength to throw half the owl statue Black Knight had earlier sliced at Indigo who easily dodged out of the way, shooting at both Broil and Rack as he ran. "Take