Radon Man: Unmasked!

It wasn’t often Kyler actually had permission to enter the wastes. But Aunt Hera had ordered him to hunt and he’d never protest. He could hardly contain his glee

every time he passed through the border into the toxic cloud, testing death like every good superhero. The western winds of the arid wastes drifted up from the

sand dune and kicked up into the air. The smell of ash and blood lingered for a moment and then whisked away, as rot (the great equalizer), was ever present.

It wasn’t called “the wastes” for no reason.

Kyler knew this well, and sniffed the air, allowing that moment of weight to fill his lungs— well, fill them as much as the gas mask on his face would allow. The

thick layer of radon limited his ability to travel. It was impossible to tell if you had been in too long, until you dropped dead, food for the toxivores. Still it was

probably (definitely) stupid to wander in as far as he was without any back-up. In truth, he’d snuck out. But hey! He’d gotten permission, they just didn’t specify

when and he decided now. He told himself that he was fine and crossed farther into no-man's land. Why was hewandering the most dangerous area on the

planet? Simple. He had a desire to be away—to be within. Here, in the arids, it was possible to feel a part of a cycle. To be a part, and to fall apart. He glanced back

behind him, and adjusted the mask on his face, feeling the familiar fabricover it. Aunt Hera tried her best to bring in at least some individuality to the dark-

colored, astro- standard masks left behind for the planet’s inhabitants.

Not everyone had masks, and the leaks were getting worse. Just this morning, the entire Col’Dain family’s chambers were contaminated. They barely made it out

when the warning blared. That was partly why Kyler was even out in the wastes—at night (alone). He needed another one. The leaks were too overwhelming,

now. He was overwhelmed. See, Kyler was cursed. No, not cursed. That was an archaic term. No, no, he was infected (A much nicer word, no?). Something had

happened to him when he was born. Nobody knew why; they simply said radiation exposure. As if their entire existence wasn’t filled with touch-and-go

exposures—checking their lungs and eyeing any cough with fear. Indeed, it was just fortunate that he had not developed cancer. Or turned green. He did,

however, have magic. Jagger hated when he used that word. “Something from comics, not real life.” But Kyler knew better. He already thought himself an alien;

why not one like Superman? Well, Superman could fly, and shoot lasers from his eyes. Kyler was—well, he didn't know who he would be. Something new. Radon

Man, from the planet Colardine! Now that was a hero Earth would love. Maybe he could find some old crayons and draw it out, show it to the astros when they

returned. His thoughts were cut off by a growl. Radivore or toxivore? He thought. One was what he came for, the other...

Might be trouble. And as fifteen-year-olds are wont to do, he ran towards trouble. Kyler, as one could probably tell, was not the smartest. Brave...foolhardy...His

brother would say, “a goddamn idiot asking to be killed.” But he was capable. He knew (if you can believe) what he was doing with running at the creature. His

logical was simple: if it runs away, it's a radivore. If it comes after me; — (His plandidn’t get that far). Fortunately, the strange creature ran. So, he shifted into

Radon Man and slipped his consciousness out, feeling the odorless, colorless gas become more of a radar. The creature blinked steadily in front of him. He

tracked the radivore (the younger, slightly nicer cousin to the aforementioned toxivores) over the dunes, unable to see what kind it was. By its speed, he assumed

it was likely a hare. He grabbed the gun from his back, quickly locking in the net attachment. Aunt Hera had designed it for him. He wasn't allowed one with

bullets. As much as they hated him going into the wastes, it was necessary. Benefit of the whole, or something like that. The ends justify the means? He aimed the

sights at the creature and fire, keeping his eyes on the creature as the net flung through the sky. His aim was true. The beast shrieked as it was tackled to the

ground. It writhed beneath the corded shackles. Despite how it might appear, Radon Man was a friend. His superpower was vital, because he was the only one

who could wrangle the little radivores. He could track them and catch them fairly well. He was also the only one crazy enough to go into the wastes and try. The

creatures themselves had a special power: they evolved gills that sucked radiation from the air. It was their food source. It didn't matter the type, hare, lizard,

bird, etc., all of them had this trait. They're especially helpful when one lives in an underground bunker beneath the wastes. The Col’Dains would be back home in

no time. He patted the hare on its head, the gills along its neck flapping slightly. “D19,” he said to the creature. “You will never have to fight for food again.” D19 was

unable to speak. Radiation couldn't do that much to an animal’s biology. Not that he knew of, at least. The rabbit’s nose twitched in response. The first streaks of

sunrise reached toward the boy and his rabbit. He cursed. The chase had taken him farther than he’d intended. He watched the creature's gills. When he first

started studying them, he learned how to read the radon levels by their movement. He continued to stroke the beast, watching it calm beneath his touch. Its fur

was course and matted with dust from the chase. He went to put it in his bio- pack—a mobile terrarium of sorts, when it froze.

He halted, too. This was not the cautious calm of before, no, this was paralysis. From a prey animal, it certainly meant Danger. He searched his radar, feeling for

the ping of another beast nearby. Toxivores were a particularly nasty type of creature. The true natives of the planet were all glowy and violent. And they hated

humans. Hated them, with a capital “H” and a primordial understanding of devour on sight. Kyler wasn’t sure what made them so violent, so crazed. He only

knew that they loved blood and bones—swallowed them whole, according to his brother— and he was full of them.

He had yet to locate it, and his breathing hitched. His mask fogged, and he began to reachback for his gun. Could really use some bullets right now. He had no

way of fighting the monster if it came after him. If he could even find it. His radar blipped strangely, not indicting the threat at all, but still the hare reacted. He

had no plan. He could toss the rabbit in hopes of distracting it. But D19 was looking at him with adorably large, glowing-green eyes, and he just couldn't. No, he

would have to face the beast and hope his body wouldn’t be too mangled when his brother went looking for him. It was an assured death for anyone. Which is

what made the girl’s appearance surprising. She stumbled down the dune, a vague expression in her eyes. Kyler barely noticed her staggering figure until she

collapsed, kicking up a small tornado around her. He reacted more to the dust-cloud, jumping away, and clutching the rabbit to his chest. But when he wasn't

rushed by a massive monster, he stalked closer. His radar short-circuited. She wasn't wearing a mask. She was clearly an idiot. Kyler dropped down beside her,

feeling under her jaw for a heartbeat. A steady beat rose to his fingers. She was still alive, but being maskless in the wastes practically marked someone as dead.

She needed a mask... something, anything to block out the air. He wasn’t trained in this...he didn’t know...D19 wrestled in his arms, fighting against him.

Concentrate. Concentrate. He untied the cloth from around his mask. With the amount of time she’d been exposed, she was more at risk. The mask was buckled

around his face. He knew what to do, and what it meant to untie it. He knew that a moment exposed was lethal. Still, he hesitated. His fingers locked around the

leather straps. Except his hesitation wasn't harming him. She was still uncovered. He expected his first breath of radon to taste like metal, or rotten eggs. Instead,

it was justregular air. Toxic, yet indetectable. He held the mask to her face, the glass quickly fogging over from her breath. He wrapped the fabric over his nose. It

might be useless. It might be all he had. It wasn't too far now to the bunker, and if he could get them near enough— He only hoped she’d last as long. Whispering

a quick apology, he shoved D19 into his bio-pack and picked the girl up, throwing her over his shoulders. He buckled beneath the added weight, biting his lip to

calm his nerves. The arids seemed to hold him back. His progress was slow, and the heat of the sun would only make it harder. If he collapsed, they all would die.

So, he kept moving. It was simple. It was very heroic of him, and if he wasn’t fighting to move forward, he’d have grinned. He saw the border, an arbitrary line of

T-posts marking the current boundary. He tried to hold his breath. He imagined radon curling around his eyes, entering his corneas, his ears. He squinted up at

the sun, adjusting the girl on his back. She had not even stirred, barely even breathed. How long had she been out here? He wasn't sure if the dust was messing

with his vision, or if he had finally overstayed his welcome in the wastes. He reached out for a post, aiming to feel close to freedom, before collapsing on the

ground.

The girl rolled off his shoulders, landing face-down. He reached out, but he might as well have been hit by red-sun rays. Spots danced around him, as if the stars

had descended to say goodbye. Was this goodbye? Was he dying? Is this not what he meant to happen? Kyler shoved his elbows against the ground and crawled

forward. The sand scratched at his skin, and he panted beneath his flimsy mask. His bio-pack slumped off of his shoulders, forcing him down on the ground.

Coughing, he stretched his fingertips out and just barely brushed against the metal posts lining the border. Glass shattered. Jagger. His brother would find him.

Yell at him. Save him.

Who saves Radon Man? Did heroes ever really get happy endings? They save until they can’t save anymore. React

and adapt until they fall behind. He felt his brother’s hands close around his wrists, though he was stuck staring at the sand. Then his vision filled with green fluff.

D19. The little, beautiful, amazing monster had freed itself, and instead of running back to its home, had curled up under his mask. The gills brushed against his

nose. Tears welled in his eyes. A side-effect of the radon, and not the swelling in his heart. Jagger stumbled and gasped as he fell, but it didn’t sound like his

brother. His brother didn’t stumble. Carefully, he raised his head. The girl. She was conscious—alive. She’d dragged him. Both laid in crumbled messes just

passed the border. Safe. Kyler laughed. He’d been saved.

Who saves Radon Man?

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Natalie is an English major with a minor in Anthropology. She has been writing obsessively since middle school (Fantasy and Sci-Fi in particular) and hopes to work in publishing as an editor and eventually become an author herself. She adores any aspect of storytelling, in any manner.