Aberrant Trilogy 1: Super Charged (21 page)

“That’s the plan,” I say, tucking the pieces back into my pocket so that they don’t get lost or spotted by anyone. “I’m pretty sure he can teach me how to use my powers since he must have some of his own as well.”

“That’s awesome.” Mae is grinning. She has a hungry look in her eye and I cock my head at her.

“What’s that look for?” I ask.

“Well…” Her voice trails off and she looks down at the bedsheets. “My request is this…and it’s more of a demand.”

I sit up. “Alright,” I say. “I’m listening.”

Mae gives me that grin again and looks me in the eye.

“Seeing as you found the missing piece of the Vestige,” she says, “I was hoping that next time you go up against a crazy super villain that you bring me along with you. Except, next time I’ll have that piece of the Vestige. And my own powers.”

My jaw drops.

“You don’t ask for little things, do you?” I say.

“Nope,” she replies. “I go for the real deal. I don’t know why you give me that look as if it’s a bad idea. I think it would be great! We already make a good team. Why can’t we make a good superhero team?”

I groan.

Leave it to Mae to ask for something so risky, so monumental, that I am without words.

My silence takes too long for her and she reaches out to whack me on the arm to get my attention.

“Come on, Fallout!” she says. “What do you say?”

I pause, then I give her the hint of a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” I reply.

Mae lets out a laugh and rests back on the bed, her eyes locked on me.

“You better think about it long and hard, Shaun,” she says. “Because I won’t take no for an answer.”

36

The Journal

When Grandma and I get home after the long night at the hospital, we hang up our jackets and settle into the kitchen. I’m exhausted and starving. I go to pour a bowl of cereal when Grandpa comes up beside me, holding out a rectangular package.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“I meant to give this to you earlier. Your mother sent it along,” she says as I tear open the packaging. “She said that it’s about time you had a new one.”

I almost float up into the air with joy when I reveal a brand new iPhone, complete with UHD camera.

“Thank-you!” I cheer, then hurry out the back door and into the yard.

I kick off the ground and go shooting up into the sky. Up I soar, higher and higher, until my ears pop from the pressure and the wind caresses me. I come to a stop and close my eyes, tilting my head back.

The air is clean up here. There is silence broken only by the wind tugging at me.

I smile and open my eyes. Then I turn on the phone and launch the camera, aiming it at myself. I click record.

“Hey, Dad,” I say. “It’s me, Shaun.” I lick my lips and continue. “I just wanted to let you know that I found the Vestige. Or, rather, it found me. I heard what you said, and I will protect it. I will use it for good.”

My hair blows into my eyes, and it’s almost as if Dad is rustling my hair with an invisible hand.

“We stopped The Drone,” I go on. “Grandpa and me. We took him down with each other’s help. Grandpa’s going to teach me how to use my abilities when he’s home from the hospital.” Then I smile. “Maybe one day I can really talk to you about it. Until then, things are in good hands.”

I stop the recording and save it to my videos. It feels like old times, except this time I won’t be loading the video onto Youtube. This video is just for Dad.

I return to the ground and go inside where Grandma is waiting.

“Are you alright?” she asks as I come into the dining room.

My eyes are watering, mostly from emotion, but I blame it on the strong winds.

She smiles and gives me a strong hug.

It lasts a few moments, then we part.

“I was just making a video for Dad,” I say. “I think he heard me.”

“He can always hear you,” says Grandma. “He’s right here in your heart.”

When she taps me on the chest I realize that the Vestige also rests right above my heart. It’s funny to think that part of Dad must also be in the Vestige.

I wipe the rest of the tears from my eyes.

“Come over here,” Grandma says, motioning for me to follow her to the cabinet in the corner. “There’s something I want to show you.”

“What is it?” I ask.

Grandma lifts a small lock box onto the kitchen table.

“I was looking around in the cabinet where we kept your father’s jacket and I saw this book. It’s pretty battered, but it’s not really the cover that counts. Maybe we should open it up and see what’s inside.”

I glance at her, feeling a sort of energy emanating from the book as I hover my hands over it. Then I reach around the cover and lift it open.

To my surprise it’s a journal, the kind with the thin blue lines and fancy end papers. On the inside cover is my father’s name written in blue ink.

“It’s his journal!” I say. It’s not like I haven’t seen his handwriting a million times before, but this is different than his fiction writing. These are his thoughts on real life. These are more precious than gold.

“Looks quite valuable,” says Grandma. “I’m curious how this escaped the great purge that we sent to his publishers. What does it say?”

I turn the protective page that keeps everything from smudging and begin to read the first page of my father’s daybook.

To my publishers at Marshall-Crichton,
it reads.

This journal is to be read only by my son, Shaun, or to be published only 100 years after my death.

Shaun, if you are reading these words now, know that I am sorry this information had to come to you this way. You deserved an explanation in person.

There are so many things to tell you - things that only I know. Without this account, my memories will be buried in the ground. It is your job to keep them alive and use them to triumph over evil.

There is so much evil in the world. Much of it is petty criminality. That will never be overcome completely. But, we can try. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there are many tiers to evil.

Some are minor annoyances, and some are an all-encompassing force that will not rest until it dominates all life.

I regret to inform you that I must start with one such form of dominating evil, the one you must watch out for the most - and that is Bill Flagrant:

The Drone.

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