by Matthew Cody
Of everything Daniel had heard here in this tree-fort-turned-secret-hideout, this was perhaps the hardest to swallow. It must be a terrible thing to be special and have no idea why. Gram was fond of saying that everyone was looking for their purpose in life but only a few found it. These were probably the most special children on the face of the planet, and they were clinging to a bunch of old comics and conspiracy theories for answers.
In Noble’s Green, kids might fly, but comic books were still just comic books.
But Daniel was too exhausted and far too overwhelmed to keep talking. Let Eric and Rose and all the rest hold on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, they might make it past their thirteenth birthday with their powers intact and grow up to be a real superhero like Johnny Noble. What was the harm in dreaming?
Daniel was tired—tired of asking questions and tired of believing in the unbelievable. But he still had one last question that needed answering, and it was perhaps the most important one of all. “Why me?”
“What do you mean?” asked Eric.
“Why tell me all this? I’m not like you; I can’t do any of the things you do. So why share all this with me? You didn’t have to save me—you could have let me fall and your secret would have been safe!”
Eric stood up and looked Daniel in the eye. He was no longer smiling.
“It’s the First Rule,” he said. “And it’s one that I take very seriously—Use Your Powers to Help. Never Hurt. I think your death would’ve hurt a lot of people, Daniel.”
“Me, for starters,” said Rohan. “We’re friends, Daniel. Aren’t we?” Daniel glanced around at the room full of smiling faces. He was very uncomfortable again and could feel himself squirming under all that attention.
“I know it’s been hard these last few days,” continued Rohan. “And that you had questions I couldn’t answer. But the truth is, we just weren’t sure what to do about you. We knew you were catching on, but we don’t have any friends that are … well, not like us. Then when Eric saw you in trouble, there was really no decision left to make.”
“So now it’s up to you, Daniel,” said Eric. “You know all about us, and what you do with that information is your call. We can’t stop you if you decide to tell.”
Daniel was just about to disagree with Eric—with all their powers, Daniel figured they could pretty much do whatever they wanted—when Rose appeared again at his side. “Never Hurt,” she whispered.
Daniel looked at them all. Rohan was smiling; Eric was grinning, too. The others looked anxious, even a little afraid. Even the loudmouth, Simon. Only Mollie was hard to read. She wasn’t smiling, but she wasn’t wearing her usual scowl, either. She was just watching, curious as a cat.
“Yeah, I guess your secret’s safe with me,” answered Daniel. What else could he say?
“Great!” shouted Eric, slapping him on the back. Daniel could feel the power behind it. “I knew Rohan was right, I knew we could trust you, Daniel Corrigan!”
“Yeah, great. Go, team,” said Daniel. “But it’s getting a little late. Do you think we could call it a night and I could maybe, I dunno, get a ride home?”
“Sure,” Eric laughed. “Glad to. I’ll be your limo and chauffeur all in one.”
Eric opened the tree-fort door and they stepped out onto a narrow wooden porch. From their vantage point they could see down the side of the mountain and up into the night sky—it was a bright blanket of stars.
Eric put his hand (gently this time) on Daniel’s shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. “Only this time you should try keeping your eyes open, because there’s really nothing like it, Daniel. Nothing at all.”
Chapter Six
Flight
Eric was right. When Daniel forced himself to relax and let go of his fear, it was the single greatest experience of his life. He was flying.
Well, technically Eric was the one doing the flying—Daniel was just along for the ride. But what a ride it was. They stayed fairly low: only twenty or thirty feet above the treetops (Eric said if they went much higher, it would get too cold for Daniel). But down here Daniel could relish the feeling of the warm air blowing his hair, and every now and then Eric would find an air current to ride and dive sharply through the mist only to rise slowly again into the night. As they glided through the dark, Daniel allowed himself a little pretending, and he imagined that he was alone. That he was the boy who could fly, that he was just as special as the rest of them.
“Never thought you’d see Noble’s Green like this, huh, Daniel?” asked Eric, startling him from his daydream. “I know it seems like a boring little town, but once you’ve seen it from way up here … well, I wouldn’t live anywhere else.”
Daniel had to agree. At night, from above, it looked like a sea of twinkling stars surrounded by the dark forests of Mount Noble. The mountain had always seemed a bit frightening to Daniel, constantly looming over their heads, but the lights of Noble’s Green glowed warmly in the dark. They looked like home.
“Here,” said Eric. “We’re over Briarwood now. Let’s take a little detour and I’ll show you where I live.”
Though he’d never been there, Daniel knew that Briarwood was a working-class neighborhood and it was a bit rougher than other parts of town. Though he didn’t know why, he was surprised to find that Eric lived there. He had always assumed that Eric lived on a street like Elm Lane.
Eric flew lower, and soon the little lights became street-lamps and bedroom windows. The houses in Briarwood were smaller than those on Elm, but clean. The residents obviously took care of their neighborhood.
“That’s my street over there,” said Eric, pointing. “And my house is the third one down, and that’s my mom’s station wagon in the drive—”
Eric stopped in midsentence. They were no longer flying; they were hovering now, suspended in midair. Eric’s eyes were on a blue four-door Chevy parked next to the beaten-up old station wagon.
“Is … is there something wrong?” asked Daniel. It was a bit unnerving to be floating that far up without moving. It was less like flying and a lot more like hanging on.
“Huh?” said Eric. “Oh yeah. I’m fine, it’s just … well, that car wasn’t there when I left. It’s Bob’s.”
“Is he … uh, Bob … is he your stepdad or something?”
“No!” answered Eric with such conviction that Daniel had to tighten his grip. “He’s just my mom’s boyfriend. Her latest. Or at least he was. He left last week and I was hoping that he was gone for good.”
Daniel didn’t say anything. He didn’t think there was anything to say.
“Aw, the heck with him,” Eric said finally. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”
They flew in silence for the next few minutes. Finally Eric’s scowl broke as he spotted something near the edge of town.
“Well, look at that!” he exclaimed. “You mind if we make a quick stop? There’s something I should take care of.”
Daniel tried to make out what Eric was looking at, but it was no use. Whatever Eric was seeing, it was too far away for Daniel’s eyes.
“Uh, sure. What’s up?”
“Unfinished business.” Eric smiled as he began their descent.
When they got closer, Daniel could make out stacks of hollowed-out cars and rusty metal appliances—refrigerators, washers, ovens and the like. They were landing in the middle of an old junkyard near the edge of the forest. Piles of rusted metal and torn-up furniture littered the area. To their right was a twelve-foot-high chain-link fence hanging limp around a gaping hole. It looked as if a Mack truck had plowed a hole clean through it. From somewhere close by came the crash of smashing, squeaking metal: the sound of destruction.
Daniel was wondering what business Eric could possibly have in a place like this when a sudden breeze brought him the answer. The already unpleasant stink of the junkyard was now accentuated with the familiar stench of trouble.
“Lemme guess: Clay and Bud?” asked Daniel, waving at the foul air in front of his face
.
“Yep. This place is their favorite hangout. We’ve got the tree house, they’ve got their junkyard. Kinda fits, don’t you think?”
Eric must have noticed the look on Daniel’s face because he smiled and winked. “Just stay close to me and you’ll be fine.”
“But …,” Daniel began, searching for the right words. “Are you sure? I mean, there are two of them….”
“Trust me, Daniel. Clay’s the only real danger. Bud’s just a sidekick. I know how to handle this.”
Though Eric landed lightly, it took Daniel a moment to get his land legs again. As Eric strode confidently toward the sounds of mayhem, Daniel struggled to keep up. What else could he do? He couldn’t exactly fly away, and since he had no idea where this place was in relation to his house, walking home was also out of the question.
They found Clay standing on the hood of a rusted-out truck, clubbing the windshield with a bent fender. Bud stood some distance away, throwing bricks at the headlights. As it turned out, Bud was a pretty bad shot, and one brick went high, slamming into the back of Clay’s skull.
“Watch it!” snarled Clay. The brick had split in two, but despite his growling, Clay had hardly flinched.
“Oh, that little brick didn’t hurt you!” said Bud.
“You want me to throw it back, fatty? See how you like it?”
“All right! All right, I’m sorry.”
The two bickered some more before returning to their random demolition. As he watched the senseless destruction, Daniel thought what a waste it was for two troublemakers like Clay and Bud to have powers. And here was Daniel, as unremarkable as bread.
Eric stood by and watched the pair for a minute or two before stepping out of the shadows into the moonlight. By now Daniel’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, but he still didn’t like the idea of being left behind in this creepy place, so he pinched his nose and followed Eric into the open.
“Uh-oh,” said Bud, seeing Eric’s approach. “Clay, man. Look out.”
Clay looked up from his work and glared when he saw Eric walking toward him. Daniel’s feeling of unease was only made worse when Clay jumped off the beaten-up car to meet Eric head-on. Daniel’s gut tightened when he noticed that Clay didn’t drop the fender.
“Well. Looks like the new kid’s making more friends every day. The Buddha and the girlie weren’t enough, huh?”
“Clay, it’s time we had a talk,” said Eric.
“That so? Isn’t it a little late for you to be out on a school night, Boy Scout?”
Bud was laughing along with Clay’s taunts, but Daniel suspected it was only to cover his fear; the air had taken on a more pungent tang.
“I’m serious, Clay,” said Eric, unsmiling. “What you did to Daniel here was way over the line. He could’ve died!”
“Hey, it’s not my fault that yellowbelly over there went jumping offa that building! All I was gonna do was talk to him and he went all crazy!”
“Talk? You’re not much of a talker, Clay.”
“Oh yeah? And who are you to say anything about it, anyway? I’m not a part of your little clique, your group of ‘Supers’ or whatever, and you can’t tell me what to do!”
“You know the rules, Clay. And even you have to follow them. Consider this your last warning. Leave Daniel, and everyone else for that matter, alone. Stick to beating up on junk—it’s what you’re good at.”
Eric turned around and started to walk away, which Daniel saw immediately was a giant mistake. As soon as his back was turned, Clay swung the fender, hard, with both hands. Daniel managed to shout a warning, but it wasn’t necessary. Eric spun around just in time and stopped the fender inches from his face. Both boys were now holding on to opposite ends of the metal club, and Daniel could see the strain on their faces as each tried to wrest it away from the other.
The sound of twisting metal ground against his eardrums as Daniel watched the two boys tear the fender apart under their very fingers. It was amazing and frightening all at the same time—they were so strong that the steel was bending, ripping in their grasps. The struggle seemed evenly matched, and Daniel began to worry that Eric had overestimated his advantage. If Clay was just as strong, how could Eric be sure that he would win? And what if Bud got his courage up and decided to step in on Clay’s side? Daniel was quick-witted, but he was pretty sure that a battle of wits was not what Bud had in mind.
Just then the fender broke and the two boys fell, each holding a twisted, ruined piece in his hand.
Clay regained his footing first and rushed headlong toward Eric. Eric got to his feet and braced himself for the impact, which was massive. Daniel’s ears rang as Clay nearly knocked Eric off his feet. The boys were wrestling now, in a struggle to gain leverage over the other. Then, in a furious display of strength, Clay finally managed to get the upper hand, literally lifting Eric off the ground and throwing him across the yard.
Eric landed in a heap at Daniel’s feet. He was battered and bruised, and his clothes were muddy and torn, but despite it all, he managed to stand.
“Had enough, Clay?” he asked, spitting out a bit of blood and smiling.
Like a bull seeing red, Clay bellowed with rage and charged. But this time Eric did things differently. When Clay got close, Eric sidestepped and grabbed him with both hands—and flew. Up, straight up, carrying him high into the night sky, with Clay shouting and cursing all the way.
Just like that they were gone, and Daniel was left alone in the junkyard with Bud and his cloud of stink. Bud’s laughter had stopped, and the fat bully seemed just as uncertain as Daniel about what to do next. The stink cloud was getting worse, though, nearly obscuring Bud from view as little strands of bad-smelling fog began to reach toward Daniel, almost as if they were seeking him out.
“Your power is a cloud of super-stink? Aw, c’mon!” said Daniel, pulling his shirt collar up over his nose and mouth.
He heard it before he saw anything—a distant sound, like someone whistling very far away. As it got louder, Daniel looked up and saw a shape hurtling toward the ground. Clay was falling out of the sky.
Daniel cringed to think what would happen when he hit the earth, and had barely a moment to wonder what had become of Eric when he saw him swoop in and grab Clay just seconds from impact. They circled the junkyard, with Clay clinging to Eric for life.
“Okay, here we go again,” said Eric, and he started rising again, up into the dark.
“NO! NO! I GIVE!” shouted a terrified Clay. “I give!”
Eric changed direction and gently settled back onto the ground. Clay had turned white, and his windblown hair was sticking up on the top of his head. Daniel thought he saw a dead moth or two stuck among his curls. The kid looked ready to kiss the ground.
“So?” asked Eric.
“I’m … I’m sorry, Daniel. It won’t happen again,” said Clay through clenched teeth. Of all the apologies Daniel had heard in his life, this one sounded the weakest. But it was enough for him.
“Bud, you’re getting a pass this time, but the same goes for you,” said Eric. “Leave Daniel alone.” There was no answer from the stink cloud, but Daniel knew he had heard. Bud was like an ostrich with his head in the sand, just hoping for the two of them to go away.
“C’mon, Daniel, it’s late.”
Daniel grabbed hold of Eric’s back and up they flew, leaving the two bullies to their shame.
After they were out of earshot, Daniel said, “Thanks for that.”
“No problem. Clay’s strong, he’s incredibly tough, but he’s not a flier. Probably for the best, since he’s scared of heights.” Eric winked. “Can’t imagine why.”
Then came that laugh—Eric’s contagious laugh—but this time Daniel didn’t share the smile. Clay was a bully, it was true, and he might even be truly dangerous, but nevertheless Daniel couldn’t shake the image of Clay’s genuinely terrified face as he fell.
Daniel wondered—just how powerful was Eric? Did he even know? Was there any limit to the
things he could do? And what did that mean—for so much power to be in the hands of a twelve-year-old boy?
Chapter Seven
Hide-and-Seek
No matter how powerful Eric was, he couldn’t help where it really mattered—he couldn’t help Daniel’s gram.
Over the next month, as Daniel’s friendships with the Supers grew tighter, Gram seemed to be getting weaker. These days, more often than not, she didn’t even get out of bed. She still went to the doctor’s office every three weeks for her chemotherapy, but other than that she didn’t leave the house. The treatment was almost as hard on her as the cancer itself. And though Gram smiled through it all and claimed that strong medicine was the best kind, Daniel wasn’t so sure.
But she still lit up when Daniel came to her room, and he made sure that he spent time with her every day. She still laughed and told jokes, and she made fun of her bald head when the chemo made her hair fall out (she said that if she had known what a nicely shaped head she had, she would’ve shaved it years ago). Daniel’s mother bought her an assortment of scarves and hats to wear if she felt like it. But though her spirits were up, Daniel noticed that she was sleeping more and more—she had bags under her eyes that never went away.
When he couldn’t be with Gram, Daniel relished his time with his friends at the tree fort. His favorite game (because it was the one he was best at) was hide-and-seek.
Daniel used to think that hide-and-seek was a game for little kids, but that was before he played it with the Supers. He was a decent hider, and the tree fort and surrounding woods offered plenty of hiding spots. But his real skill was being It. The rules were simple—the hiders had to make it back to base (the fort) without being discovered by the person who was It. Powers were allowed, but fliers had to stay below the tree line and there could be no physical contact of any kind. In the first game Rohan was It, and though everyone assumed he’d be great at this role, he was actually kind of lousy. Rohan’s powers were all about his heightened senses, but that also meant that he was easily distracted. If he tried to sniff someone out, he was likely to get overwhelmed by a blooming rosebush half a mile away. Rohan’s turn was over fast.