Free The Other Eight by Joseph R. Lallo Page A

clarify in an educational tone,
“Photosynthesis is how plants make light into energy. So I don’t
have to eat as long as I get plenty of sunlight.”
    With that, he leaned back, opened his jacket
a bit more, and closed his eyes. Next in line was a young Latino
man. He’d made a halfhearted attempt to assemble a costume, which
was comprised of a green T-shirt with an iron-on patch in the shape
of a G on the center of the chest. He had a black duffel bag
at his feet and wore heavy canvas work pants of a dark tan
color.
    “Funny us two sitting together,” he said with
a slight Spanish accent, elbowing Chloroplast. “I’ve got plant
powers, too.”
    Chloroplast opened one eye and looked him
over. “I thought you were just a fan of the Packers.”
    “Ha haa!” he laughed, genuinely. “Nope. My
name is Gracias. I’m from San Antonio, and I have the power to give people a grassy ass. I just have to thank them first.
Get it? Gracias, grassy ass .”
    “Yeah. I got that. It wasn’t exactly subtle.
Your powers are a pun. You must be so proud,” Chloroplast
remarked.
    Gracias laughed again. “This guy is such a
kidder! We should team up!”
    “Not gonna happen,” Chloroplast said.
    “Wait now. I’m confused. What exactly do you
mean by giving someone a grassy ass?” asked Nonsensica.
    “They do something for me, I thank them, and
then POOF , grass all over their butt. Very distracting.”
    “I can imagine,” she said.
    “Well, you’re next. What’s your deal?”
    “Nonsensica, I’m from Parts Unknown, and I
have the power to short-circuit brains with laser-guided
gibberish.”
    “Parts Unknown. That’s a good one. I should
have said that. Hey, maybe I should be teaming up with you. We think the same way.”
    “Yeah, I’m not really into the whole
hero/sidekick thing. I like the idea of a team, then eventually a
solo gig, once I’ve got some experience under my belt. Fully
sanctioned experience,” she added quickly. “I’m extremely
experienced when it comes to the ways of crime-fighting. Just need
a legit organization to sign off on it.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I’m after, too,”
Chloroplast said. “I figure a few years with the army and I’ll have
a few missions behind me, learn a few tricks, learn a few skills,
then when my tour of duty is up, break out on my own.”
    There was a sequence of nods from the vast
majority of the other passengers. Next in line was a chubby girl
who couldn’t have been more than nineteen. She was dressed in dark
colors, wore sunglasses, and had a total of seven adhesive bandages
on her rather beat-up hands. She held a silver Zippo lighter, and
had been flipping it open, flicking it on, then clapping it shut
periodically in an absentminded manner since she’d boarded the
bus.
    “My name’s Bomb Sniffer. I can smell
explosives from wa-a-a-a-ay far away, and I’m from Topeka,
Kansas, where there is absolutely squat to do,” she said. She
delivered her introduction in a manner that attempted to match
Chloroplast’s laid-back, indifferent attitude, but it was clear
that she was beyond excited.
    “How old are you, miss?” asked Phosphor, a
bit of fatherly concern in his voice.
    “Twenty-three,” she said, eyes darting a
bit.
    “In what, dog years?” scoffed
Chloroplast.
    “Whatever. Age is just a number,” she said.
She turned to Phosphor. “And who are you to question it? You’re
like a hundred.”
    “May as well be, I suppose,” he said with a
light chuckle.
    “You’re up,” Sniffer said to the man beside
her.
    “I’m FM, I’m from Idaho, and I can transmit
my thoughts—”
    “Over the radio! I know that voice! You’re
the guy who let the cat out of the bag about this team to begin
with!” Nonsensica said. “I could seriously kiss you, FM. We all owe
you a drink for creating this opportunity.”
    “Yeah, the, uh, the folks in charge don’t
really see it that way. At first they told me I was rejected as a
security risk, but then I got a