The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “Nope, not working,” Quinn said. “Just got brighter. Calm thoughts, buddy, calm thoughts.”

  Blake nodded, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. I’m quiet, enjoying the beach, laying in the sun, relaxing…

  He opened his eyes and looked at Quinn, who now walked around him in a circle, needing to cool off and work his tired leg muscles.

  “Better, much better,” Quinn said softly.

  “Good.”

  “Wow, okay, we’re gonna have to be super-careful about that glowing eyes trick. How’d you do on today’s run?

  “Terrible,” Blake answered. “Stupidly tough run today. It's like I had the strength but didn't at the same time.”

  “I know what you mean,” Quinn said.

  Blake noted Quinn was drenched in sweat as well.

  “So um, what did jerk-face want?” Quinn asked.

  “He was up to no good. Just being an ass, that's all.” You don't need to know any more than that.

  “Did you get mad at him?

  “Yeah, why?” What are you getting at?

  Quinn pointed to the ground where he was still walking around Blake.

  Blake looked down. He stood in the center of a six-foot black circle in the gray asphalt parking lot. The painted parking lines that intersected with the circle had turned dark gray.

  “What about it?” Blake asked, looking up at Quinn.

  “For starters, it’s really warm near you and the asphalt around you is smoking. It's…scorched in a perfect circle over where you two were fighting and also right here where you're standing.”

  Blake looked at the dark circles again. Sure enough, he stood in the center of a scorched and smoking piece of pavement. Blake stepped out of it quickly.

  “I hope no one saw that.” Maybe that's why Darien was calling me a freak?

  “We might have just discovered your second super power,” Quinn whispered. “After the sensing thing, of course.”

  “Makes sense.”

  Quinn looked up and grinned. “What do you mean?”

  Blake explained what happened with Darien. “And like, there’s all this sweat pouring off me. You're pretty soaked, too.”

  “Yeah,” Quinn answered, flicking sweat from his fingers. “I thought it was a little weird, but I assumed it's because it was hotter than normal and we hadn’t run in a week. I'm gonna call you Scorched Earth.”

  “No, you're not,” Blake said, chuckling. “Can you get out of the house tonight?”

  “I'm working till close.”

  “Right. Um, how about after, then?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s Friday so I don’t think my dads will care. Why?”

  “Meet me on the back field after work.”

  “I'll be on my bike, so it will take a few minutes for me to get here assuming we close on time.”

  “I'll be there.”

  “Okay, buddy.”

  ❖

  Blake pedaled through the empty school grounds and made his way to the back-baseball field. The weight of three gallons of water in his backpack pulled him down and the straps of his backpacks cut deep in his shoulder muscles. He smirked when he rolled over one of the charred pavement circles he probably caused in the afternoon. Then, as he rode around the football field on the track, he kept close to the tree line to avoid any security cameras. When he finally made it to the baseball field, no one else was around. Arriving at one of the dugouts, he quietly rested his bike against the backside of the dugout’s painted wood and turned off the headlight and the blinking red rear light. He unstrapped his helmet and pulled off his backpack, glad to be rid of the weight. He walked into the dugout and set them down on the bench. Then he sat down next to them, rotating his helmet so it faced the field.

  Then, he watched and waited.

  Silence. Good.

  Sometimes students would sneak into the ball fields to hang out, make out, or do other things Blake only heard stories about. He didn't want to be seen by other students and if a patrol car swung through, he figured they'd have enough time to hide behind the dugout.

  After a few minutes, when nothing moved and no signs of human life around the field made their presence known, Blake grabbed his backpack and walked across the sandy infield to the grass behind second base. When he got there, he set the backpack down and pulled out the three gallons of water, setting them down in a cluster. He opened each one and threw the caps into his backpack, which he set aside.

  Since he felt warm, he pulled off his T-shirt and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts. Then he sat down cross-legged on the grass and faced the three gallons of water. He rested his elbows in his knees and his head on his hands.

  So, how does this work? Do I think about what I want you to do?

  Float!

  Go up!

  Splash around!

  Hmmm…that’s not it.

  Blake sighed. He raised his hand toward the water.

  Maybe I have to pretend I’m a Jedi or something…move.

  Nothing. He laid back and felt the cool grass against his warm back and looked up at the stars through the cloudless night. Above him, the Northern Star and the Big and Little Dippers jumped out at him from the sea of starlight.

  Blake winced at the now familiar but still overwhelming sense of proximity to Quinn echoing in his mind. To his left, the clicking sound of a bike wheel dragged his attention away from the constellations. He looked left and saw Quinn riding in.

  Quinn pedaled closer and Blake sat up.

  “Dammit,” Quinn called out. “I forgot about that stupid sensing thing. Almost knocked me off my bike.”

  “Oh, yeah. Careful.”

  “Watchya doing?” Quinn asked.

  “Stargazing and waiting for you.”

  “How romantic.”

  “Ha.”

  “Um, why do you have three gallons of water in the middle of the baseball field?”

  “To watch you play with it like you did this morning so you can teach me how.” Okay, that sounded really inappropriate.

  “Uh, right. Where’s your shirt?” Quinn pedaled to a stop and placed his feet to the ground.

  “Right here,” Blake said, shaking it from the waistband of his shorts. “It’s hot out. Where’s yours?”

  “Spilled a latte on myself tonight and it stinks like hot, rotten milk now. I wrapped it in a ziplock bag and tossed it into my backpack.”

  “Oh.” Blake jerked his thumb toward the dugout. “Go hide your bike back there next to mine.”

  “Okay, be right back.”

  When Quinn returned, Blake had rearranged the water jugs into a line and was thinking about making the water rise up from the jugs. Unfortunately, nothing happened. Quinn sat down on the other side of the water jugs.

  “Ok, so, two questions: First, did you do something with water tonight and second, did anything else weird happen today?”

  “Yes, and yes. At work, when I was washing dishes, I was able to bend the stream of water from the faucet. I had to be careful because I didn't want anyone to see me.”

  “Okay, good. And you're right, whatever this is, we don't want anyone to know about it. Tell me what other weird thing happened today.”

  “Well, I um…I was…”

  “Out with it,” Blake said. “We're best friends and the we're the only two people on the planet who can talk about this stuff, so no judgement.”

  “I was day dreaming about Keegan in physics when a couple of beakers shattered at the back of the room.”

  “Okay, that’s weird. Was anyone mucking around back there?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you weren't near them?”

  “Well, I was in the middle of the room in my seat, but definitely not close enough to touch them.”

  “What happened in your daydream?” Blake didn't see Quinn blush in the night air.

  “I kissed Keegan.”

  “Weird. A dream kiss makes glass explode.”

  “What about you?”
/>   “Just the scorched earth thing after running and sweating my balls off. I finally cooled off, I think, but I still feel unusually warm.”

  Quinn looked around. “Probably one of the last hot nights of the summer. Nice to be outside to enjoy it.”

  “So, can you move the water?” Blake pointed to the line of jugs.

  Quinn looked at the gallon in front of him and shrugged. “I don't know. Usually the water is already flowing, but I'll try.”

  Blake watched Quinn stare at the jug closest to him. It started vibrating on the ground.

  Quinn smiled. “Yup, I can.”

  “Oh wow,” Blake said, watching a ball of water rise up from the mouth of the jug. “Do something else with it.”

  “Like this?” Quinn asked. He raised his hand and flicked his fingers at Blake. The small ball of hovering water flew over the other two jugs and splashed Blake in the chest.

  “Hey!” Blake exclaimed, laughing and looking at the water dripping down his torso. “That’s amazing! How did you do that?”

  “I’m honestly not sure. I think about what I want the water to do and it happens, but it’s not like I understand why it’s happening.”

  “Do it again.”

  Quinn smiled at Blake and didn’t break eye contact. Blake’s mouth dropped open when he saw round orbs of water rise and levitate above the mouths of all three gallons of water. Then, he pointed at Quinn, whose eyes suddenly glowed bright blue.

  “Tell me what you’re doing,” Blake whispered, mesmerized by the floating orbs of water that reflected the bright blue light coming from Quinn’s eyes.

  “I’m thinking about making the water float upward into a sphere. The only difference from now and this morning is that I don’t feel what I felt in the shower—emotionally.

  “What did you feel?”

  “I don’t remember, to be honest. I was in the shower thinking about how we lost the past couple of days. Try that, maybe?”

  “Okay.” Blake thought about being stuck in the hospital and became annoyed. “Don’t get freaked out or anything, but your eyes are glowing blue.”

  Quinn put his hand up and saw the reflection of light on his palm. “I thought so. When your eyes glowed orange, you said you felt something behind your eyes; now, I do too. I can also see the blue reflecting on the water orbs.”

  “I wanna try. Don’t help me.”

  “I’m not, but I can feel heat coming from your direction, like I’m sitting in front of a bonfire. Also, your eyes are glowing orange. Shit, the grass is on fire.”

  “What?” Blake exclaimed. He looked down. In the dark, it was easy to see a burning ring of grass expand outward from where he was sitting.

  “Shit! Um, water boy, put it out!”

  Quinn flicked his hand and the floating water sprayed on to the grass, causing steam. “You are so not calling me Water Boy!” Quinn teased.

  Blake laughed as the boys jumped up and each grabbed a gallon of water. They poured water around the edge of the six-foot in diameter charred circle of burnt grass, similar to the ones Blake had made in the parking lot.

  “Coach is gonna be pissed at this,” Quinn said, shaking his head.

  “They won’t know how to explain it. Now you know why I took my shirt off. I’m running hot,” Blake explained. “Ever since yesterday.”

  “Maybe you’re like, Pyro, and I’m Iceman.”

  Blake rolled his eyes and stifled a small laugh. “First of all, Iceman makes ice. You can play with water, so that makes you Percy Jackson. That still doesn’t explain the fact that we can sense each other or that you might have shattered glass in science class.”

  “Yeah, that sensing thing is kind of annoying. Is it going to happen all the time?”

  Blake shrugged and sat down on unburnt grass.

  Quinn sat next to him, “I bet it’s permanent or will last until the effect of whatever happened fades away. Gosh, I hope it’s not permanent.”

  “You don’t? You were all excited about this super power stuff less than twenty-four hours ago.”

  “I know,” Quinn said, laying back on the grass and extending his arms out to his sides. “Now that it’s really happening, I just think it’s weird.”

  “Now you sound like me. What happened to Batman and Robin?”

  “First of all, they don’t have super powers. Second, I just…it’s really hard to hide super powers from your parents. I mean, come on, glowing eyes? Peter Parker can barely do it with Aunt Mae and the girls he dates. A lot of the X-Men get taken away as kids because their parents can’t handle it.”

  “Stop,” Blake said, grabbing his best friend’s hand. “You know why that happens? Because comics aren’t real. Reality is so much more…” What’s the word I want…

  “Complicated?” Quinn suggested. “You’re arguing yourself into a box.”

  “Whatever. I just mean, it’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

  Quinn sat up and reached out with his hand. The gallon jug levitated two feet off the ground. “I don’t know,” he said.

  Blake propped himself up to watch Quinn manipulate the water. The jug began descending toward the ground, but the water exited via the opening at the top, mimicked the shape of the jug, and hovered in the air. When the water had emptied, the jug dropped to the ground.

  “That’s amazing,” Blake whispered.

  Quinn stood up, his hand still extended toward the water.

  “Stop the water from splashing all over you,” Quinn said.

  Blake jumped up. “Don’t you dare!”

  “Five seconds,” Quinn challenged. “Stop the water.”

  Blake started laughing and jogged backward into the outfield. “No, don’t, I can’t.”

  “Three second.”

  “Quinn! Don’t you dare!” Blake said, laughing.

  Quinn started running after Blake. The water moved with him toward Blake.

  “Oh shit,” Blake said, turning to sprint away, but there was nothing to hide behind.

  “One second.”

  “No!” Blake yelled, laughing hysterically.

  Splash!

  He cried out as a gallon of cool water exploded on his head and back. He turned around and charged at Quinn, who had doubled over in laughter. When Quinn looked up and saw Blake running at him, he put up his hands and yelled in mock surprise. Blake tackled him to the ground, and the boys wrestled around for a minute. Quinn, who had a fit of the giggles and couldn’t defend himself against Blake’s tickle attacks, quickly submitted and ended up on his back pinned to the ground beneath Blake.

  Breathing heavy, Quinn looked up at him and smiled. Blake met Quinn’s gaze and smiled back, understanding the deep bond of friendship he shared with his best friend.

  “It’s really nice to see you smile, Blake,” Quinn said.

  Crash!

  The boys looked toward the dugout where the noise had come from.

  “Shit, the bikes,” Blake whispered. Then he pushed himself up and charged full speed to the dugout. In a flash, Quinn was right behind him.

  Blake grabbed the side of the dugout and used his momentum to swing around the corner. “Hey!” He crouched down and yelled out, hoping to scare any would-be thieves while hoping he wasn’t surprising a skunk or raccoon.

  No one was there, but the two bikes were lying on their sides.

  Quinn came up behind him and braced his hands on his back and shoulder. “Anyone there?” he whispered.

  Blake shook his head. “Not a soul.”

  “Think it’s a new power?”

  “Knocking over bikes?” Blake said, standing up.

  Quinn nodded and pulled his hands off Blake. “Yeah, from the outfield, buddy.”

  He has a point. But which one of us did it?

  1-10 | Life and Death

  Quinn

  QUINN ROLLED ONTO HIS BACK, a familiar urge beckoning him from deep within. He slid his hand across his stomach and under the waistband of his boxer shorts. He pushed the cov
ers aside with his other hand.

  Oh, Keegan.

  Moments later his breath quickened and his chest heaved. Quinn inhaled sharply as euphoria spread through his body. Then, he felt power surge behind his eyes and assumed they were glowing blue.

  On his desk, the glass of his banker’s lamp cracked with a sharp sound. A picture frame jumped off the wall and fell to the floor, cracking the glass. Several DVDs jumped off his bookshelf and clattered to the floor and the idle ceiling fan above him wiggled in place. He peeled open an eye in horror and saw several books slide off his shelf and drop to the floor with several thuds. Then his dresser shook in place, knocking over all the picture frames and random stuff he had set on top of it. His desk chair rolled several inches to the right of where it had rested all night.

  What the hell? Did we have an earthquake? Or was that me?

  The unusually loud thudding of footsteps climbing the stairs alerted him to his one of his dad’s immanent presence.

  Eek! He can’t see me like this. And why do those footsteps seem so loud to me?

  He raised his butt and pulled his boxers up a little higher to cover his fading arousal and most of the mess. Then, he covered himself with the blankets, holding his hand over his abdomen.

  My eyes! Stop glowing. Calm thoughts, calm thoughts!

  The footsteps approached his door and stopped. His eyes jumped up from the threshold to the knocking sound at the center of the door. Somehow, he knew exactly where his dad’s knuckles rapped on the wooden door. He winced at the loudness of the knocking.

  “Quinn? Are you all right?” Dad asked.

  Quinn opened his mouth and covered his ears. His dad may as well have been shouting in his ears. “Yeah, I’m okay, Dad, I just, uh, dropped some books.”

  “Do you need help?” Why is he so damn loud? This hurts!

  “No, nope, I’m good. I can pick up my books.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I just, uh, I need a minute, dad.” Quinn shook his head, trying to focus on balancing out the sound. He turned his head at a clicking sound. In the corner of the room above the door near the ceiling, he saw—with incredible clarity—a small spider weaving a web. What the heck?

  “Okay. Um, by the way, you’re supposed to be at work in thirty-minutes.”