A Mutant Named Mizzie Read Online Free PDF

 
    “And
that
is why they call me Captain Justice!” I declared, staring down at the mutant I was holding in a headlock.
Chirp chirp!
My utility belt vibrated with an incoming call. Tightening my chokehold with one arm, I reached for my phone with the other. The mutant growled, then gurgled. I glanced up in time to see more mutants rushing my way. A roaring mass of gray skin, bloodshot eyes, rows of sharp teeth. I would have to make this quick.
    “Captain Justice speaking,” I said into the phone.
    “Hiya, Cap!” The voice belonged to Zimmerman, my new business manager. “Is this an okay time to chat?”
    I took another glance at the horde of bloodthirsty mutants: gnashing shark teeth, claws ripping through the air.
    “Of course,” I said.
    Ordinarily, I would’ve let the call go straight to voice mail, but I’d been waiting all day to hear from Zimmerman. A popular chain of barbecue restaurants was expanding into the microwaveable dinner market, and the owners were considering hiring
me
to be the official spokesperson. I could already imagine my face on all the colorful boxes, looking out from the frozen food aisle. Captain’s Down-Home Brisket and Beans … Sloppy Joe with Superhero Sauce. The possibilities were endless.
    “Good news, Cap!” Zimmerman said. “They agreed to the deal!”
    “That’s terrific!” I elbowed the mutant in the side of its gnarled head. “I’ll swing by to sign the contracts later today.”
    “And you should know, I scheduled you for a photo shoot next week. We just need to find a cowboy hat that matches your cape.”
    I shifted sideways to avoid getting clawed by the mutant in my grasp.
“GRAAAAARG!”
it screamed.
    “What’s that, Cap?” asked Zimmerman. “I didn’t quite catch that last part.”
    “That wasn’t me,” I began. “It was the m—”
    “ARRRPH!”
the creature interrupted.
“MUUUURRGG!”
    “If you don’t want to wear a hat, all you have to do is say so,” Zimmerman complained. “Groaning at me won’t accomplish anything.”
    I sighed. The first of the mutant horde would reach me any second.
    “I shall call you back,” I said.
    Clipping the phone back onto my belt, I swung the mutant in my grasp like an ugly gray baseball bat, knocking aside several of the attacking monsters before they could dog-pile me. But there were more where that came from: A tornado of claws and teeth. Murderous howls. And the breath … I didn’t know what these things had had for breakfast, but whatever it was, I wished I’d packed some extra breath mints in my utility belt.
    I made quick work of the remaining mutants. But they were just the preview. The main event was standing close by. Abominator. His face was shrouded in a black mask. A matching uniform and cape made him look like a shadow come to life.
    “Engage Net of Truth!” I called.
    A glowing blue hologram sprang from my armored wristband and flew through the air toward Abominator. At the same time, he reached beneath his cape and pulled out a javelin with a glowing green tip: the Radiation Spear. It was Abominator’s trademark. A swing of the spear sliced the Net of Truth to nothingness.
    I leaped three stories into the air, my shining blue cape billowing behind me. In addition to super strength, I also possess the power of flight, plus an arsenal of hologram weapons and the best technology money can buy. The total package. It’s easy to see why I—Captain Justice!—have long been considered the greatest superhero who has ever lived.
    A quick glimpse at my surroundings revealed an audience observing the fight: Citizens watching anxiously from office windows and stopped cars. A mailman hunched behind a trash can. And more journalists than you could count. Reporters, TV vans, microphones. I paused in the air for a little midflight posing.
    Cameras flashed as I flexed my muscles and smiled. People assume that my impressivephysique and dashing good looks come naturally to me, but the truth is, I