Super Powereds: Year 1 (84 page)

“We can,” Vince said before anyone else could raise the fact of just how questionable Nick’s word was these days. “I’m going to say no as well. I don’t have a fortress to return to, but no one will be able to catch what they can’t find.”

“You’re going back on the road?” Alice asked.

“I am. It’s where I feel at home. Well, that and here.”

“Touching,” Nick said. “I guess that handles our plan to survive the summer. That just leaves how we’ll get through next year now that everyone knows what we really are. Anybody got a bright suggestion for that one?”

The room was silent, save for the perplexed weather man on the television reporting the strange phenomenon to strike the California wildfires.

155.

The reactions from most of the student body had been shocked and dismayed, but it was the freshman class filing down the hall to their exams where anger budded most prominently.

“This is utter horse shit,” Allen Wells complained, his hands itching to dole out some explosions to demonstrate his outrage. “First we find out they’re fucking Powereds, then they don’t even have to take the test. I wonder who I have to blow to get on the special treatment train?”

“Were,” said Thomas’ flat voice.

“Were what?” Allen asked.

“They were Powereds. Now they’re Supers,” Thomas corrected. “Did you not pay attention at all to the dean’s announcement?”

“Oh, I heard him loud and clear. We’re all stuck with the standard test to fight for spots while they’ve been just waved on through,” Allen snapped back.

“They weren’t waved through,” Will said, joining the discussion. “Two of them were kidnapped, and then the five of them subdued Coach George. Do you think your test will be harder than that?”

“What the fuck ever, there’s no way the coaches would actually do something like that. I’m sure they just objected to the Powereds being let into the program at all so now they’re being tossed under the bus, just like Michael,” Allen said.

“I’m with him on this one,” Terrance stepped forward to add. “It is sort of crap that they’ve put Michael under ‘judicial review’ just for telling everyone the truth.”

“He ‘told the truth’ by breaking into a sound booth and endangering those five,” Thomas shot back. “I’m amazed they didn’t flat out drop him from the program all together.”

“They didn’t do it because they knew we would have rioted if they’d taken it that far,” Allen said, his voice raising a few octaves. The steady march toward the exam room had slowed as the discussion grew; now it was grinding to a halt. One partly pink-haired individual never broke stride, though, moving up to the debate from her position in the rear.

“Sasha,” Thomas called out. “Would you please help me explain to this imbecile that our friends are not the amoral monsters that current opinion seems to paint them as?”

Sasha never looked at him, never slowed down, never even moved her eyes. Her only response was a single pair of words delivered with such venom that clarification wasn’t needed in the slightest.

“Fuck them.”

“See, even one of their girlfriends knows they don’t belong here,” Allen declared triumphantly.

Thomas considered pushing the issue further; however, Sasha’s comment had taken most of the wind from his sails and he wasn’t sure how to recover the lost ground. Instead he retook his place in line and shook his head.

It was a good thing all five of the Melbrook students had been outed simultaneously, because Thomas had a firm suspicion they were going to be leaning on each other a lot come next year.

* * *

Dean Blaine poured himself two fingers of scotch, then stepped back. After a moment’s consideration he filled up the rest of the glass. He stared at it for a few more seconds then went to his cabinet. He emerged holding a much bigger glass, dumped the original glass’s contents into it, and then filled it up the rest of the way.

The announcement had gone over about as well as he’d expected. It wasn’t the initial reaction one had to watch out for in situations like this. No one ever really grasped the full implication of big announcements immediately. No, the part he had to be on guard for was in the weeks to come, when the simmering thoughts would lead people down all the rabbit holes of possibility that he’d pursued himself nearly a year ago. They’d find the same conclusions, too. That this procedure, if evaluated and approved as successful, would significantly alter the landscape of Supers and Powereds permanently. And while it was a good thing, overall, it also meant taking the group that had been seen as secondary and elevating them to the status of equals. Dean Blaine might have slept through his college history courses, but even he knew you didn’t have to dig hard to find all the examples of that being a tumultuous process at best. At worst... well, he was going to have to keep an eye on those five next year. He was certain there were plenty of people who would like to see their little experiment declared to be a failure.

It was a shame, too; they were good kids. Under different circumstances a few of them might have even gone all the way, with the right guidance. Dean Blaine took a big gulp of his scotch at that thought. George and Persephone... they’d been teaching here for over ten years, longer than he’d even been at Lander. For them to have stolen away with students in the middle of the night... Dean Blaine didn’t think he would have truly believed it if he hadn’t been present to retrieve George’s unconscious body. When he was thoroughly secured, Dean Blaine intended to have a very long, very in-depth chat about exactly what the point of their little stunt had been.

For right now, though, their absence created a more pressing dilemma. Dean Blaine had only two and a half months to find adequate replacements for their roles. That included background checks, board approval, negotiations and training, a process that usually took at least a year to complete. Dean Blaine let out a sigh and drummed his fingers on the desk.

He was going to need more scotch.

156.

Nick slammed down the hatch on his car and looked up into the bright sky. It figured: the first time all year he genuinely needed sunglasses and they were lying in a broken heap at the bottom of the trash can. He’d have to pick up a pair of cheapos at the first gas station he passed. The drive from Lander to Vegas wasn’t a particularly long one, but it was sunny as a son-of-a-bitch.

Alice was nearly done loading her own car as well, Mary’s bags packed alongside hers as they struggled to fit Alice’s ever-expanding wardrobe into the limited space a trunk had to offer. Mary was thankful she’d managed to talk Alice out of bringing everything home. They were coming back in a few months, after all. Mary took a step back and popped her back after the labor of packing the bags down. A part of her was sad that she wouldn’t be going home for the summer, back to the peace and quiet of her woods. She was a pragmatic girl, though; she understood what her friends had risked by coming after her. To not take her safety seriously after such a gesture would be an insult to all of them, even if they didn’t take it that way.

Hershel was tossing his final parcel into the car while his mother spoke in hushed tones with Dean Blaine.

“Again, I’m sorry you had to drive all the way out to pick up Hershel,” Dean Blaine apologized. “We’re just short-staffed of teleporters at the moment.”

“It’s fine,” Mrs. Daniels assured him. “What about their caretakers? After what you’ve told me I’d like to have a little discussion with both of them, especially Mr. Transport.”

“I’m not clear on much about them at the moment,” Dean Blaine replied. “They’re currently being debriefed by the company they work for. I haven’t received any definitive word on if they’ll be replaced next year or not.”

“Please keep me in the loop,” Mrs. Daniels said as Hershel walked up to the two.

“All done,” Hershel said, patting the station wagon proudly.

“Such a strong young man,” Mrs. Daniels said. “Why don’t you go say goodbye to your girlfriend? We’ll be leaving as soon as I take care of something.”

Hershel took the hint and set off to give Mary an emphatic but publicly-appropriate farewell.

“Was there something else?” Dean Blaine asked uncertainly.

“Yes, but not from you,” Mrs. Daniels replied. “You’ve been wonderfully helpful. Thank you for coming out explain things in person.”

“Ma’am, it is quite literally the very least I can do,” Dean Blaine said.

Mrs. Daniels walked across the parking lot, eventually stepping off the concrete and onto the grassy area that surrounded it. Sitting beneath a tree making some adjustments to the straps on his backpack was a silver-haired boy, thoroughly absorbed in the task at hand.

“You’re Vince, if I remember correctly.”

Vince looked up and gave his friend’s mother a polite smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate you going after my son. All three of you. It must have been terrifying, and I’m so very amazed you all had the courage to do something like that.”

“It’s not a big deal. Hershel would have the same for any one of us. We’re friends.”

“You’re good friends to have. Still, handling someone as strong as George, you must be one amazing Super.”

“Only eighth in my class,” Vince told her.

“I’m sure that will change soon,” she assured him. “I have a question for you, though. As strong as you are, do you think you could beat me in a fight?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m asking you if you think you have it you to physically render me unconscious, should we engage in an altercation.”

Vince squirmed slightly, searching her face for a snicker or smile to show that she was joking. He found nothing.

“I suppose I probably could,” Vince answered at last. “But I’d really much rather never find out.”

“That is a shame, because the only way I’m letting the young man who helped save my son wander off on his own with no food or shelter is when I have been knocked stone cold out,” Mrs. Daniels informed him.

“I’m a little confused, ma’am.”

“You will be coming home with Hershel and me, where you will be subjected to proper meals and a roof over your head all summer long,” Mrs. Daniels explained. “Along with adequate safety should anyone else make an attempt on one of you.”

“Thank you very much, but I couldn’t impose,” Vince said.

“I feel I was quite clear about this already, young man. Either go put your bag in the car or put up your fists, because there are only two possible endings to this discussion.”

“I... yes, ma’am,” Vince said, looking deep into her eyes and realizing this woman was one hundred percent not fucking around. He headed over to the station wagon where Hershel was already waiting.

“She strong-armed you into coming home with us, didn’t she?”

“How’d you know?”

“I know my mom,” Hershel replied with a shrug. “If it makes you feel better, you never stood a chance.”

“Not particularly,” Vince said. “But I suppose there are worse things than spending a summer with a friend.”

“It’s not excitement, but I’ll take it,” Hershel said. He slapped Vince heartily on the back. “Try and enjoy yourself, man. Next year is going to be one hell of an uphill battle. Speaking of, there’s this group I hang out with back in Chicago, sort of a simulated attack strategy group. I think you’ll fit in really well with them.”

“Is this that LARPing thing you told me about?”

“Exactly. Now, let me ask, what mythical creature do you see yourself as? Because while your hair and cheekbones lend themselves to elf, I personally think you’ve got the fighting spirit of an orc.”

Vince tossed his bag in the bag of the car and then buckled himself in. It seemed that summer would, at the very least, not be boring.

Epilogue

For what it was, the warehouse was actually quite well-maintained. One often expected places such as this to be leaky and derelict; however, this particular enclosure was about as homey as it could be with concrete floors and walls. The lack of windows and the single entrance certainly didn’t add to the domestic appeal, though the sprawled out rugs and series of sofas did bring several degrees of comfort to the equation. It only went to show, good or evil, human or Super, at the end of the day, everyone needed a soft place to sit.

Persephone limped through the entrance and approached the center area where the others sat. She’d been in too much of a hurry to look for a healer, only pausing to make a quick call from a payphone so they knew the operation had failed. It had been a hellish several hours getting here, and she’d only made this good of time thanks to a car stolen outside a dusty gas station.

Persephone made it halfway across the room when she felt her body lift from the ground and be pulled to a red chair. She was set down gently in the soft leather surface, facing three of her cohorts.

The oldest was the one who had relocated her, a powerful figure wearing a tattered and patched red coat that hung to his knees. To his right was a pale blonde woman as beautiful as she was silent, which is to say very. On his left was a young boy, barely over the age of ten, who looked at her with a gaze so furtively curious she couldn’t stand to be around him for more than a few minutes at a time.

“So the mission failed, and what’s more, George was taken,” the man said, his voice dark, deep, and calm as a mile below the ocean’s surface.

Persephone nodded. She didn’t need to bother with excuses. He was a seasoned warrior. He understood that sometimes things didn’t go as planned.

“That is unfortunate,” the man said, drawing out the word as if he was considering the appropriateness of its use. “Of all possibilities, it didn’t occur to me that our efforts would result in losing George.”

“Me either,” Persephone admitted.

“Still, you two drew enough attention for our other agent to complete his job, so on the whole we’ll have to consider this as a success,” the man added on. “And I’m glad you were able to make it back to us, Persephone. There is still so much work to do. Even more now that we’ve lost George.”