The
Outlaw: Originsby Alan Janney
Genre: YA Sci-fi/Superheroes
Release Date: February 26th 2016
Summary from Goodreads:A masked vigilante stalks the streets of downtown Los Angeles, disrupting crime and rescuing movie starlets. After being spotted on security cameras and thrust into the national spotlight, he is pursued by both the media and powerful new enemies. Little does the world know the Outlaw is just High School junior Chase Jackson wearing a mask and wondering why his body is suddenly…extraordinary.
Prologue
of Outlaw, Book One
Los
Angeles Times.
March 1st. 2018.
“My
Night with the Outlaw.” By Teresa Triplett.
The
man in the mask is late.
And
then he is here without warning and, despite myself, I gasp. I am
forbidden to
disclose
the location of our rendezvous, but it is dark, it is the middle of
the night, and I’m
terrified.
Superheroes
are, of course, fake. They do not exist in our reality outside of a
movie
screen.
I am skeptical and even offended by the growing legend surrounding
the Outlaw.
It’s
ludicrous. However, even if he is a fraud, it’s still the story of
the year, maybe even of
the
decade. Although that doesn’t explain why I’m so scared I can
barely breathe.
I
don’t know why he agreed to meet me, this man the entire world
wants to
interview.
In fact, I never even asked him and perhaps that is why I was chosen,
when ranks
of
more celebrated and prestigious reporters have already been rebuffed.
The Editor-inChief
of
the Times is holding the front page, waiting on this story you’re
reading, even
though
I’m not a writer for the paper; I am a television reporter, but the
Outlaw wanted the
story
out immediately. I’m trembling now as we regard each other in
silence. I’ve already
decided
that I won’t ask him, ‘Why me?’
I
can feel him more than I can see him. Witnesses claim he is a big
man, and that
doesn’t
do him justice. He takes up the whole sky. CNN aired an Outlaw
special and their
experts
were able to measure him using various photographs, so I know he’s
not as immense
as
the naked-eye perceives.
“Hello,”
I say, timidly, pathetically. He nods in reply, and it is at this
moment I
realize
how woefully unprepared I am. In my defense, the Outlaw only gave me
an hour’s
notice
but I cannot think of a single thing to say. As the silence between
us lengthens and
the
conversational burden on me increases, I relent and betray myself.
“So why me?”
He
shrugs and he says, “I don’t know that many reporters.”
He
knows me? We’ll be pouring over that tidbit for weeks because his
identity is
still
a mystery. But you know this, and if you’re like the rest of us
then you don’t even have
an
educated guess.
His
voice is deep. Darth Vadar deep, although I can tell he’s masking
his voice
somehow.
His words are slow and the vowels are elongated, and the mask
falsifies it even
further.
Oh yes. He’s wearing the infamous mask that covers his mouth and
holds his hair
back
from his furious eyes. Like every other eye-witness, I’m struck by
the eyes. His gaze
is
hard to return and I find myself fidgeting.
I
make a few more feeble attempts at small talk, trying to gauge his
reactions (of
which
there are none), and then I wonder how Natalie North has maintained a
relationship
with
this stoic dark mystery man. Not only has she withstood his unnerving
stare and
imposing
presence but according to the stories she has fallen for him and
vise-versa, making
them
the most unlikely couple and hottest gossip column topic…ever.
Beauty and the beast.
Of
course it could be a publicity stunt, and rumors persist that there’s
another girl in his life.
A
real girl, and a real relationship beyond the mask. I imagine that
topic’s off-limits tonight.
“I
have to ask a question which will sound absurd even to my ears. Are
you able to
do
things physically that I can’t? That no one else can?”
He
doesn’t answer, but I can tell he’s turning the question over in
his mind.
“Like
a super hero?” I press further.
“No,”
he scoffs. “There’s no such thing. In fact, I’m sick.”
“You’re
sick?”
“Very.
Possibly fatal.”
“Fatal?”
I repeat stupidly, incredulously. “How…from what?”
“That’s
not why I’m here,” he says. He growls his words and he waves my
question
away
with his hand.
“Then
why?” I ask.
“I
need you to pass along a message. To everyone.”
The story continues in Book Two of the Outlaw Series. 'Infected'.
Prologue
of Book Two, Infected
Los
Angeles Times.
May 1st. 2018.
“A
Night With Natalie North.” By Teresa Triplett
He
warned us.
The
Outlaw told us that we would see more…creatures like him soon, but
we weren’t
receptive.
He expressed the danger to Los Angeles, but we laughed him off. The
man in the
mask
was stepping outside of his innocuous narrative, or so we thought,
and the citizenry
didn’t
appreciate the intrusion. Wasn’t his fifteen minutes of fame
enough?
We
were mistaken. Los Angeles is still staggering. We have paid the
price for our
folly,
for our arrogance. However, even in retrospect, how could we have
possibly been
prepared?
I’ve watched the videos countless times and I still cannot believe
what I’m seeing.
Who
are these people? And why can’t we find them?
And
speaking of missing persons, what has become of the masked man
himself? We
all
watched him die, completely incinerated. Didn’t we? Or did we all
collectively hallucinate
that
awful night?
I
first heard the rumors a week ago, and then the grainy photographs
began
circulating.
Whispers in the dark that our hero hadn’t succumbed to mortality
just yet.
Perhaps
we are not abandoned after all.
The
one person who might know for sure agreed to talk with me but either
cannot or
will
not comment on the Outlaw. Natalie North has just finished her spring
semester and is
packing
for Vancouver to shoot a movie. Her agent and manager has purchased
her a condo in
New
York City, in case Los Angeles is no longer safe when filming wraps
in August.
We
sit down for coffee and she doesn’t mince words.
“The
Outlaw has been incredibly decent to me, and he might be Los
Angeles’s best
hope
for peace, if he’s alive. Even if I knew anything about his life,
his death, or his
whereabouts,
why would I betray him to the media?”
She
is not mad. She is simply matter-of-fact.
I
don’t have an answer for her, other than a selfish one; I would
sleep better at night if
I
knew he was still alive.
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