Read Super Powereds: Year 1 Online
Authors: Drew Hayes
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Coming of Age
“I don’t believe you,” Vince said simply.
“I didn’t expect you to,” Nick said, half a smile twitching across his face.
“You’ll come help us. I know you will,” Vince told him, patting him on the shoulder. “I have to go get ready for the fight, but I have faith you’ll reach the right decision. There’s more to you than you think.”
Without another word Vince walked away, past Mr. Numbers and Mr. Transport who were furtively whispering in their own corner, content to let the students resolve their own problems while the duo tackled logistics of the rescue effort.
“Same old Vince,” Nick said, shaking his head. He turned to Alice. “Are you going to give you a cute little speech too?”
“No,” Alice said softly. “I just want to know something. You’re saying you were lying this entire time? About everything?”
“Sorry, Alice, but yes. I guess on the plus side I can finally admit your suspicions of my duplicitous nature were right. Kudos; you’re the only non-telepath one who caught on.”
“I guess I was,” Alice said. Nick expected a lot of things to follow. He was braced for tears, accusations, pleas, or even yelling. Unfortunately he was not braced for the right hook Alice deftly slammed into his face. There was an audible CRACK and a muffled thudding as Nick fell to the floor, his hands racing up to cover the eyes Alice had punched. Nearby his sunglasses tumbled to the ground as well, cleaved neatly in two by the blow with the left eye’s lens spinning to a stop some feet away.
“What the
fuck
?” Nick demanded from his prone position on the floor.
“You lied to us, you manipulated us, you want to abandon us, and you’re surprised I hit you? I thought you were supposed to be smart!” Alice shook her hand in pain with as much subtlety as she could muster, trying not to let her eyes tear up from a potent mixture of injury, outrage, and betrayal.
“I did what I had to in order to get by,” Nick spat at her.
“Bullshit. You could have gotten by on your own if you were so determined to stay alone. You didn’t have to be the bastard who makes people trust him only to bail when things get hard. You didn’t have to let us think we could... care.” Alice stared down at the boy she had spent so much of the year fighting with, pining after, verbally sparring with, and finding comfort in. And much as she hated herself for it, a part of her still wanted to offer him a hand up from the ground.
“You know what really turns my stomach, though? That night I kissed you, I did it hoping that under the slick veneer there was actually this decent guy with good reasons for hiding himself. I thought that the man behind the mask had to be better. And now I find out that the real you is nothing but a selfish coward who won’t risk anything for people who would put it on all the line for him if things were reversed.”
“Are you done yet?” Nick asked, glaring up at her unabashedly.
“Only with you,” Alice said, spinning on her heel and walking away.
* * *
Hershel’s eyes began to flutter as he came around. His first thought was wondering who had stuffed his head full of cotton. His second was to realize that probably wasn’t the case, but he was working through one hell of a groggy headache.
“I still wish we could have used the teleporter,” said a female voice, thought it sounded vaguely muffled, like it was coming through a wall.
“Wish in one hand, shit in the other,” barked back a harsh male voice. This one Hershel took only seconds to place; he’d heard far more of it, after all.
Hershel opened his eyes to see what was going on. He didn’t remember anything since kissing Mary, so he had no idea why his head hurt so bad. Or why he was apparently riding in the back of a moving truck. Or while he was handcuffed and shackled to the floor. What had been mere curiosity was quickly transitioning to apprehension.
“Looks like Sleeping Beauty is coming around,” Coach George said, giving him a smile. Hershel noticed that Mary was sitting next to him, not handcuffed but also not conscious. She had a silver mechanism wrapped around her head that he was certain hadn’t been there previously.
“Was goin ahn?” Hershel asked, his tongue feeling thick and slow in his mouth.
“Whew, seems like that slumber Persephone induced did a doozy on you, Daniels,” Coach George said. “I think she might have used too much. Sorry about that.”
Hershel wasn’t sure how well he could communicate verbally, so instead of trying again he looked around then raised his metal ensnared hands with a questioning look on his face.
“Ah, you want me to explain I take it?”
Hershel nodded emphatically.
“Well, Daniels, the short answer is actually pretty simple,” Coach George said with a reassuring smile. “You’re being kidnapped.”
145.
“Klidnrapped?” Hershel mumbled, his mind comprehending but his mouth still refusing its usual duties.
“Close enough,” Coach George agreed. “Though to be honest, you’re more being brought along because you were there. Wrong place, wrong time sort of thing. There was only one of you we actually wanted.”
Hershel’s eyes flicked to Mary.
“Obviously. Process of elimination when there are only two of you isn’t that tough,” Coach George confirmed.
“Wats on hler hlead?”
“Oh, you like? It’s a subsonic neutralization... aw fuck, this thing has a really technical name but I can never remember it all. It’s a gizmo that keeps people unconscious. Very useful, but very controlled and hard to come by. Hence why you aren’t sporting one. I mean, why bother?”
“Caush I wash jusht there,” Hershel managed to spit out.
“Yes, that,” Coach George agreed. “And the more obvious reason. Mary is one of the most powerful advanced minds in recorded history, let alone at her age. Containing her awake would be hellacious, to say the least. You, on the other hand, are a fat smart kid with self-esteem issues.”
“Roy,” was all Hershel managed to get out before Coach George laughed.
“Roy? I’m sorry, do you think I’m going to be giving you any whiskey? You can’t access Roy, and that means you’re of no more concern to me than any other regular human.”
Coach George paused for a moment and regarded his conscious captive.
“It’s kind of funny, you know; back when you were just Powered, you almost certainly would have shifted by now. But without a specific trigger you’re stuck there, utterly helpless. In a way you were actually stronger back before you had any control. Ain’t that a bitch?”
Hershel made a valiant effort to spit at Coach George, but the slippery tongue and untrustworthy mouth betrayed him once more, leading to little more than a stream of droll falling from his lips. Though his cheeks burned on instinct, his eyes continued to send daggers at Coach George’s rugged, unbearably smiling face.
* * *
“We have fifteen minutes,” Mr. Transport announced as he returned to the room. He had left with Mr. Numbers only seconds prior, but was returning as a solo act. “At that point we will go, pick up Mr. Numbers, find out Mary and Hershel’s location, drop you off, and return to meet the man coming to stop us from doing those very things.”
“You won’t stay and help?” Alice asked, a new dimension of fear entering her voice. Losing Nick had been worrying; losing the only two adults left in their party was an altogether terrifying development.
Mr. Transport shook his head. “Alice, try to understand. If Mr. Numbers and I are believed to have gone against company orders, then come next year not only is there zero chance of us still being here, but there will be vast repercussions for him and me both. If they just think you all got the drop on us, we might still be able to swing the same post here next year. Additionally we will be here to distract our... associate from finding you all too soon.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because his order will only be to recover you three; it won’t bear regard to your friends. And he will execute his orders. Trust me,” Mr. Transport said, a bit of the color slipping out of his face.
“We understand,” Vince said, standing up from the sofa where he’d been resting. “So we have fifteen minutes?”
“Fourteen and a half now,” Mr. Transport corrected. “Gather any tools or weapons you might favor, get dressed for combat, gather whatever you think will give you the best edge.” His eyes flicked briefly to the boys’ side door, which Nick had slammed ceremoniously behind himself directly after his and Alice’s altercation. Alice pretended not to notice.
“Guess I’m getting out of my dress, then,” she said, turning on a stiletto heel and gliding through the girls’ side door.
“Vince, I assume you’ll want to change out of slacks and a button-down,” Mr. Transport urged.
“Of course. There’s something else I need, though; something very important,” Vince said slowly.
“Then go get it! This deadline is non-negotiable.”
“I’ll need your help,” Vince explained. “It isn’t exactly close at hand.”
“Fine, fine; as long as we can get it in time to get back here for Alice’s pick up I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” Mr. Transport agreed.
Vince told him the location. Mr. Transport’s already pallid coloration whitened another shade.
* * *
Nick sat on his bed, staring off into space. Every now and then he would reach to adjust the sunglasses that were no longer there. Instead they rested on his desk as a pile of debris. It was no great loss; in truth he’d planned on smashing them himself once his time here at Lander had ended. He was still a bit miffed that it was that girl who had the pleasure of their destruction instead of him. Nick’s hand almost tightened in reflex to the thought of Alice and her sucker punch. He was slipping; he couldn’t believe he nearly allowed an emotion to manifest itself as a physical gesture. He’d have to put himself in some intense retraining when he got back to Vegas.
At least his planning wasn’t slipping. Nick had kept a go bag under his bed since his first day in Melbrook, a bag that was now propped up against his door. He could grab it when the rest left to go on their suicide mission and make his escape. He’d purchased and parked two vehicles other than the Bug in key locations on the Lander campus, vehicles with no record of being owned or driven by Nicholas Campbell, just in case. The windows were tinted to minimize recognition. There were toll passes to accommodate any route he might take stashed in his glove boxes.
Nick reran his mental checklist and confirmed what he already knew. That he was fore thinking, that he was intelligent, and that he planned for every possibility.
Almost.
146.
“Are you certain this is a good idea?” Mr. Transport asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the roar and crackle of the blaze.
“Honestly? Not really,” Vince admitted, his own tone at an equal volume.
The two stood about a mile away from the perimeter of a tremendous inferno, the forest fire that was currently assaulting southern California. Since that morning’s report, the ravaging flames had grown in proximity, defying the valiant attempts of local officials to bring it under control. The area had been evacuated hours ago, so Mr. Transport and Vince stood alone as they stared into the flickering heat steadily creeping toward them. Even from this distance Mr. Transport’s face was warm and his breath felt a touch smoky.
“Then perhaps we should conceive of a different plan,” Mr. Transport proposed.
Vince glanced down at his wrist watch. “We have ten minutes left. Any ideas for something we can put together and execute in that much time?”
“We could raid a camping store. You could pop the Sterno cans one by one to absorb their heat in more manageable chunks.”
Vince shook his head. “I somehow don’t think it would be quite the same effect.”
“And why exactly do you need this effect?” Mr. Transport asked. “I realize you are facing a significant challenge, but doesn’t this seem a bit like overkill?”
“None of us landed a single hit on Coach George when we fought him,” Vince told Mr. Transport. “Not even Mary or Chad. With only Alice, Nick, and me coming at him we have zero chance of winning, or even stalling long enough for one of us to recover our friends and escape.”
“I was beginning to wonder if you were aware of the realistic odds.”
“I am. I am also aware that I’m the only one of us left who was enrolled in the combat training. That means I’ll have to handle George on my own and trust the others to retrieve Mary and Hershel. As it stands I have minimal ability to battle against Coach George and no defense against Persephone. That only leaves me one viable option.”
“Do tell,” Mr. Transport encouraged.
A slow, half-mad smile spread across Vince’s face. The firelight’s reflection danced in his blue eyes as they seemed to drift off to some long ago place and time.
“Pure offense.”
“That seems like a poor strategy to win,” Mr. Transport told him. “Assuming you can even handle this much energy. I’ve read the reports on your activities, you know. You’ve spent all year focusing on minimizing how little you took into your body. You haven’t tried to find your limits in the slightest. For all we know this exceeds what you can contain.”
“It very well might,” Vince agreed.
“So, again I must ask, why are you so set on this course of action?”
“Because even if this has a ninety nine percent of killing me or not being enough, at least it gives us a shot. I’ll take one percent over zero any day.”
Mr. Transport let out a short laugh in spite of himself. “I think that’s more the mindset of a fool than a Hero.”
“My father once told me the best Heroes were the ones too stupid to care about the odds,” Vince replied. “So, thank you.” Vince drew in several deep breaths, saturating his lungs with oxygen. He knew once he entered the blaze he would have little time and less air to act with. A few moments lost choking on the smoke could break his concentration and cost him everything. He glanced down at his watch. Eight minutes left.
For all his brave words, the truth was Vince was scared to step forward. He wasn’t at all sure he could do this. And even if he did, he wasn’t sure he would be able to take back Hershel and Mary. He was afraid he would die in the process, of course, but that didn’t scare him nearly as much as the knowledge that there was only one chance to get them back. He, Alice, and Nick were that chance. Vince was terrified he wouldn’t be strong enough and he would let his friends down, but despite all that fear, he never questioned the fact that he had to try.