Mark tossed a short purple jacket on. He quirked his lips and shrugged. “Goodbye, food truck.”
They ran headfirst into the melee.
Mark threw a hunk of ice at Quake. Joan held her arm out and shot a fireball at Prowl. “Get out of here!” she shouted.
Prowl recovered quickly, realized Joan was winding up with another flame, and laughed. “Is that who I think it is?”
“I told you not to mess with my city.” Joan blasted her, making people scream.
The Villain regained her footing and hopped onto one of those catapult contraptions. “You expect me to take you seriously dressed like that?”
“Leave these people alone.”
“Or what? You’ll cast a spell on me?”
A large fissure broke through the grass, zigzagging down the length of the park. Quake was the real problem here.
Lunk grabbed Prowl from behind, who promptly slithered out of his grasp. As they tussled, Joan raced along the cracking earth, directing a steady flame at Quake’s chest. Quake stomped twice. The ground shimmied so hard, she stumbled.
Prowl yelled something, but Joan was focused on the man in brown and black. Mark jumped over a crack and used both hands to bathe Quake in sharp ice. Quake raised several large chunks of dirt to block the shards.
“Who the hell are you?” he said from behind the wall of earth. “The delinquent Villains?”
“Your worst nightmare, pal,” Mark said, spraying ice at Quake’s feet. Quake simply crumbled it with a wave of his hand. Then the chunks of dirt flew toward Joan and Mark. They sprang out of the way in the nick of time.
“I’m your nightmare, snow boy.”
Joan tugged at the hood to keep it on her head. Mark got distracted by something—Zee on all fours in obvious pain but trying to get up.
Quake looked past them, nodding and smiling. He gestured toward the street and said, “Does that belong to you?”
Joan did a quick double-take. Something was— Someonewas standing on top of Hot and Cold.
Smash.
Prowl leaned over Lunk’s shoulder and cupped her hands around her mouth. “That’s the one.”
Smash gathered his strength and jumped high.
“No!” ripped from Joan’s throat.
Smash came down hard on the roof, collapsing the middle of the truck straight to the ground.
“Oh god, no!” Mark moaned.
Evil laughter echoed out of Prowl and Quake. “Oopsie,” Prowl crowed in delight.
Smash punched through the sides, sending bread and condiments flying. He wrenched the hood off the grill and lobbed it onto the sidewalk. The fryers would spill hot oil everywhere, and?—
“Watch the propane tank!” Joan yelled.
“What’s that?” Smash punched through the metal shelves. Paper cups and trays spilled out.
“Something on the back that will blow you up.” And everyone and everything around him.
“Oh, shit.” Zee pushed off the ground and sped over to put a stop to the smashing.
Too late. Hot and Cold was… Their dream was…
