Savior (The Savior Series Book 1) (11 page)

22. ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

THERE WAS A BURNING SORENESS IN EVERY MUSCLE in my body the next morning. Running over 100 miles per hour was getting easier for me but my body was still adjusting to the new limits that I was pushing it to. My heart rate soared as I recalled the invigorating sensations that I had felt the night before as I rocketed through the streets with the police in hot pursuit of me. The adrenaline high that I got from their pursuit allowed me to push my speed beyond 150 miles per hour. They didn’t stand a chance at catching me.

As I reminisced on the events of the previous night, it bothered me how much I enjoyed the danger that I had subjected myself to. Simply running had not been enough to ease the pain that festered in my heart, but the danger and the resulting adrenaline overload was more than enough. It was like a drug— something that I needed in order to feed the insatiable hunger that only got stronger as I dove deeper into the insidious web of turmoil that had ensnared me. What scared me the most was that even though the sirens had long stopped and adrenaline no longer flowed, it was all I could think about.

As I lay there, a wave of paranoia suddenly washed over me, brought on by the realization that I couldn’t remember having come home last night. The last thing I remembered was blazing through the streets trying to reach 200 miles per hour. After that, my recollection was extremely cloudy. I knew something had happened but I couldn’t remember what.

How did I get back?
I thought. Why couldn’t I remember coming home, and most importantly, what had I done during the time frame that I couldn’t remember? What if I had killed someone?

I took a deep breath and tried to slow my heart rate. My adrenaline had started to flow again and the last thing I needed was to leap through the ceiling while attempting to walk down the stairs. The police and probably the feds had to be searching high and low for me, so I needed to keep as low a profile as possible.

Once my heart rate normalized I finally sat up in my bed but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the jig was up.

“What was I thinking?” I grumbled as I stood and grabbed a T-Shirt and a pair of jeans from the pile of clean clothes haphazardly thrown on top of my lone dresser. A rush of panic consumed me as I noticed in the mirror that I was still wearing the mask
. Had any of my family seen me?
I thought as I ripped the mask from my head and stuffed it into my backpack. For all I knew, the FBI could have been just down the stairs waiting for me. I rushed to my window and peered outside. I was relieved to see that the dirt road outside our house was empty. The coast was clear…at least for the moment it was.

Downstairs, my mother’s eyes were glued to the TV as a news report about my night played over and over again. I was relieved that my face was not shown on screen. I sighed as I realized my identity was still safe.

Having heard my sigh, my mother whipped around and glared at me. She was instantly on her feet and crossing the room before I could make my exit. For a moment, we stood in awkward silence as the news report continued in the background. She looked tired. Her weary eyes were reddened, letting me know that she had recently been crying.

“What time did you get home last night?” she finally demanded.

“I don’t remember,” I replied, secretly relieved that she must not have seen me arrive wearing the mask.

“How can you not remember?” she asked, her eyes narrowed with doubt.

“I just don’t. What’s the big deal? I’m almost 17 and you’ve never said anything before!”

The room fell silent again. I could tell that she was deciding if she should push the issue or not. I wondered if the elephant in the room would finally be addressed. She had always warned me of my “condition” but never bothered to divulge the origin of my problem. I was getting more irritated by the second as she stood there staring at me like I was some freak show as opposed to her son.

“I’ve got to go to school, you know? Is there anything else you want to say to me?” I said, letting my anger resonate in my voice and facial expression.
Just tell me what I want to know!
I screamed inside my head. But I knew that she wouldn’t. She always avoided it. I had asked her countless times to tell me why I am the way I am but she would always deflect with some clichéd nonsense about God working in mysterious ways.

“I’m just worried about you, Adam,” she said softly.

I turned and I headed for the exit. “Well you shouldn’t worry about me. I’m virtually indestructible, but you probably already knew that.”

She stood in silence as I exited the room.

23. BIG BROTHER

HOWIE’S FACE LIT UP LIKE A CHRISTMAS TREE THE MOMENT he saw me exit the school bus.

Someone must have watched the news this morning,
I thought to myself as I approached him.

“Dude, that was awesome!” Howie shouted as soon as I was within earshot.

My paranoia instantly kicked in.

“Shhh!” I said harshly as I peered over my shoulder, nervous that someone might have taken notice of his behavior.

“Take it easy, Adam. There’s no way anyone knows what I’m talking about,” Howie replied.

“I just don’t want to take any chances,” I whispered.

“Understood. Let’s talk behind the cafeteria,” Howie said as we made our way around the building.

“So what prompted this? Why did you do it, Adam?” Howie asked once we were in the back of the building.

“It was sort of an accident. I was just out for a run and I noticed a guy trying to mug this lady. I guess I just did what I had to do, you know?”

“You did the right thing.”

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have meddled. What gives me the right?”

“Adam, you’re a hero! That man probably would have killed that woman if you hadn't intervened. You saved her life, man!”

“It was reckless. And now people know about me!”

“No they don’t. People know about The Reaper. Your true identity wasn’t compromised. It’s brilliant, Adam! That mask, the name, it all fits together so perfectly!"

“Howie, my last name is Reaper! Someone will find out!”

“I am sure that you’re not the only one with that last name and there is no way that anyone will make that connection out of thin air, Adam. This is destiny, brother. Don’t you see it? This is what you were meant to do!”

“Absolutely not! It was a mistake! A mistake that won’t happen again,” I said in a harsh whisper.

“You cannot continue to hide from what you are, Adam. You think that mask just happened to be there? You think you just happened to be able to do what you can do? This isn’t a coincidence! This is fate! You need to stop running from it and face what you are.”

“I’m a freak! And I’ve already come to terms with that!” I growled.

“No, you’re a hero!” he shot back. “And there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. Because of you, that lady was able to go home and kiss her kids goodnight. Because of you, she now has a chance, Adam. You should be happy about this. You’ve been given an opportunity to make a real difference.”

“Happy? Why should I be happy?!” I roared. “You think saving some random lady that I really care nothing about is supposed to make me happy? I’m still poor! My father still beats the crap out of my mother every time he gets a chance, and she still refuses to leave him despite the fact that he’s nothing more than a lowlife degenerate! And you know what else, Howie?! My brother is still dead! Did saving her bring my brother back, Howie? If I save enough of them, do I get him back, too?” I spat the last word at him. He looked away, unable to bear the sight of the tears that welled in the corners of my eyes against my will.

“I’m sorry, Adam. I didn’t know,” he said. “You’ve changed, you know? I can see it in your eyes. You’re not just out for vengeance; you’re out for blood. When we catch up to The Suspect, and we will catch up to him—I’ll keep my promise and help you take your vengeance, but I won’t stand by and watch you go to prison for the rest of your life. You’re right. The Reaper can’t save your brother, but he can save you. Taking down The Strangers using alter egos presents a situation where we can still have regular lives when this is over. Use The Reaper to go farther than you can possibly go as Adam. And when it’s over, when The Suspect is dead and Strangers are reduced to nothing, we can go back to our regular lives.”

Though I didn’t want to admit it, he was absolutely right. That was Howie’s M.O., always thinking two to three steps ahead— always right. I didn’t say anything else. I simply nodded and stared into the distance, still thinking about the death of my brother.

“I’ll see you at 3D this afternoon. We’ve got work to do,” Howie said.

I nodded and walked away. A few minutes later, as I reached for the glass door of the main building, I noticed in the door’s reflection a man wearing black sunglass and a black suit seemingly watching me through the window of an adjacent building.

My face grew hot as adrenaline flooded my veins. The wind picked up as I turned to face the man. To my surprise, there was no one there.

As I made my way to class, I couldn’t help but wonder if the man had vanished before I turned around or if he was ever there at all.

24. POWER

THE SUSPECT:

PHASE TWO WAS UNDERWAY. MY SECOND PUBLIC APPERANCE as The Suspect was about to begin and I could not have been more anxious to see my plan unfold.

I stood silently amongst nine of my Strangers inside the poorly lit boy’s locker room of the Irvington High School Gymnasium. I had decided to bring the big guns for this operation. They were my officers, the enforcers that I could count on to keep the peace within my organization and effectively control any situation in the field.

Alpha was a seven-foot tall 400-pound mountain of muscle whose presence alone struck fear in the hearts of my adversaries. Charlie was the loose cannon of the bunch. I wasn’t a huge fan of the red paint that he applied to the Greek Comedy mask that he chose to wear instead of the standard issue Stranger mask, or the black cowboy hat that he wore with his all-black Stranger combat gear. His ability to nail any target with that gigantic six-shooter on his hip, however, made him an exceptionally valuable asset.

Then there was Tango, my right hand man. At only 5’7” he was one of the shortest in the bunch, but he was also by far the deadliest. His only weapons, besides the lethal hands that lay at the ends of his python sized arms, were the two tactical ninja swords held within the sheath strapped to his shirtless back. When The Righteous placed him under my command, I tried to convince him to wear the standard issue Stranger mask, but like Charlie, he preferred to maintain a bit of his individuality. Instead of the emotionless white mask worn by most of my operatives, Tango wore a decorative half-face Venetian masquerade mask that only covered the upper right side of his face.

Our guests silently stared at us in fear as we stood guard over them. Some of them wept as they gazed into the dead eyes of our masks and contemplated the fate that we had in store for them.

It was pathetic. They knew what brought them to this point. They had to know that whatever fate I had in store for them was a fate of their own choosing.

The applause was my signal. The hysterical cheering inside the gym filled the air as the hundreds of Irvington High students that filled the bleachers stood in anticipation of the arrival of our guests.

As I alone emerged from the locker room, their cheers slowly died. I didn’t bring my rifle because I did not wish to cause panic before I had my chance to address the crowd. A confused hush befell the gym as I walked toward the podium set up in the center of the basketball court. Some of them knew the Greek Tragedy mask that I wore upon my face, but even they remained silent as they prayed that my presence was nothing more than a cruel prank.

A tall, somewhat thin man with deep blue eyes backed away from the podium as I approached. The students in the bleachers began to clamor as I took the microphone.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My thanks for the warm welcome,” I said, my voice electronically distorted by a device implanted within my mask. The crowd fell completely silent as they watched me.

I looked to the slender man that had just relinquished the podium to me. “Before I begin, I would like to thank Matthew Conrad for the excellent work that he has done as the PA announcer for all these years. Please give him a nice round of applause for the dedication that he has shown to your Irvington High Broncos!”

The man’s stare became icy as the crowd applauded him. After a few moments, he stared at the floor as I continued.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have come to you today in an effort to convey to you the true nature of power.” The crowd had fallen silent again as I paused to add a bit of dramatic effect.

“As the home of the ten time state champion Broncos, you all know a little something about power, don’t you?”

Cheering ensued as the student body’s school pride took hold of my words. I waited until their applause died down before I continued.

“The dictionary says that 'power' is a great or marked ability to act or do and it is because of my understanding of this concept that I now stand before you. Today, we come to take power in circumstances of the greatest conceivable pressure, the pressure of knowing that by not doing so, everything would be lost. Today, we show why if placed in the wrong hands, the unimpeded ability to act or do could lead to the destruction of everything that we hold dear.”

Hushed chatter filled the room as the picture of a young male cheerleader appeared on the large monitor behind me.

“Let us take a moment to remember the tragic passing of Brian. He was one of your own. A fellow Bronco… A fellow Bronco driven to suicide by the very players that he cheered from the sidelines!”

I glared at the crowd through the hollowed eyes of my mask as their chatter increased.

“I would ask that you all remain seated for the next portion of our demonstration.”

A scream from the crowd rang out as the Irvington High School Boys basketball team emerged from the locker room. The principal and five other faculty members emerged as well, followed closely by The Strangers who held them all at gun point. Tango’s dreadlocked ponytail swayed with each step as he moved to the front of the pack and led them all to the stage in the center of the court. As our guests took the stage, the crowd’s clamoring grew to an uproar.

“You’ll notice that your attempts to dial 911 or any other number for that matter are being disrupted. It would be wise to remain seated and quiet lest I trigger the explosives that are planted beneath your bleachers!” I screamed into the microphone as I withdrew a small handheld detonator from my hip pocket. The terrified crowd yielded to my demands and peered at us through frightened wide eyes.

“Fear not children for you are merely witnesses of the justice that we mean to exact upon the wicked that stand before you,” I said as I dropped to the floor and thrust my index finger at the basketball team and the school officials who now lined the stage.

“Behold, children, as I now present to you…Power!”

I glared at each of the players as I spoke.

“The power to defeat those who would dare oppose their athletic might. The power to win not only games but championships! The power to defeat and trample everything and everyone in their paths…even an innocent male cheerleader who wanted nothing more in life than acceptance!”

I glanced at Brian’s photo on the display, then glared back at the trembling basketball team.

“The power to relentlessly torment. The power to torture! The power to punish!”

I stared angrily into the eyes of the principal whose attempt to hide his fear was failing.

“And the power to stand aside and do absolutely nothing and allow Brian Conrad to feel so helpless that the only viable solution in his mind to ending the pain was to end it all! You are all responsible for his death!” I bellowed.

I shot a glance over at the basketball team. “You for the torment that you put him through.”

I then glanced angrily at each of the faculty members before me. “And you for doing nothing about it. You all had the power to save this boy’s life, yet you willingly chose to end it. You have chosen to abuse your power and therefore that power must be taken!”

The building was dead silent as I retook the stage. I stood toe to toe with the principal. He was much taller than me but my tactical gear and my badass Tragedy mask made me look much more intimidating.

“With the authority bestowed upon me, by The Righteous, I hereby relieve you of your power and transfer it to this man.”

Matthew Conrad took the stage and stood beside me. The principal’s eyes gaped with fear as he stared at the cold eyes of Matthew.

“Take aim, Strangers,” I ordered. They all trained their assault weapons on the basketball players and faculty members.

“Matthew Conrad, as Brian’s father, it is you who should ultimately decide the fate of these individuals. As of this moment, their lives are in your hands just as your son’s life was in theirs. We will leave this place at once if you deem them worthy of forgiveness, but if you wish them to befall the same fate as your beloved Brian, you need but give the order.”

“Matt, think about this! This isn’t what Brian would have wanted!” shouted the principal as sweat drenched his forehead. Matthew’s cold blue eyes seemed to somehow become more frigid as the principal begged for his life. He maintained eye contact with the principal in silence as we all watched.

“Do it,” he finally said with absolutely no emotion in his voice.