The Guardians Omnibus

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “Bonfire Boy,” their teacher said, chuckling.

  “It’s awesome, isn’t it?” Blake asked, seemingly lost in the power. “And no, that will not be my nickname.”

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but the sand around you is charring,” Mr. St. Germain said.

  “Shit,” Blake said. A moment later, he stopped glowing and his eyes faded. The heat coming from his direction dissipated into the cool night air.

  Quinn addressed one of Mr. St. Germain’s questions. “The glowing eyes seems to be something we can control, but sometimes it happens with certain powers on its own. We’re not really sure yet.”

  “What other powers have you learned about?” Mr. St. Germain.

  “Well, we both have enhanced hearing, vision…” Quinn answered.

  “Let’s call it what it is, Quinn…super hearing, super vision.”

  Quinn chuckled. “All right, fine, we have those, but our eyes don’t trigger when we use those powers. We might have super speed, too, but that seems to be struggling to appear.”

  “Well, I can do this,” Blake said. He reached out with his left hand toward first base. A moment later, his clothes and shoes flew to his hand.

  “Oh my gosh, telekinesis!” Mr. St. Germain said in whispered surprise. “Can you move anything or only certain objects?”

  “So far, anything I want, but it can’t be too far away,” Blake answered, putting his clothes back on.

  “What about you, Quinn?”

  “Well, there’s the water manipulation trick you already saw. That’s gotten stronger. I can also play with ice, but that’s kinda boring. Maybe it will be more fun when winter arrives.”

  “True, true.”

  “I can make some heat as well, but not like Blake can. We always sense each other’s proximity, too. Thankfully, that’s no longer annoying or super-painful, but it’s initially surprising.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, we both seem to recover quickly from physical exertion. We’ve noticed it after track practice, like while everyone’s cooling off and recovering, we’re both ready to go again. It’s almost like…cheating.”

  “Huh.”

  “We also seem to be…invulnerable, too. I was cutting carrots at home and the knife slipped. I should have a deep gash on my finger, but there’s nothing there. Blake said he noticed similar.”

  “Are you gonna show him or what?” Blake asked, adjusting his sweatshirt.

  Mr. St. Germain looked at Blake, then at Quinn, his ever-calm face becoming excited. “Ooh, show me what?”

  Quinn sighed. “This, but it might be a little awkward. It looks great in the movies, but in reality…it’s just weird.” He stepped over to his teacher. “Turn around and raise your arms a little.”

  “Uh…okay.” Mr. St. Germain said warily. “You’re not going to take your clothes off, are you?”

  Quinn laughed. “No.”

  “Just do it,” Blake chimed in, amused.

  Quinn stepped in behind his teacher and wrapped his arms around the man’s chest, interlocking his fingers.

  “You can drop your arms now.”

  “Okay, and you’re right, this is a little weird.”

  Quinn smiled awkwardly at Blake, who folded his arms across his chest and smiled back with amusement. He could smell Mr. St. Germain’s shampoo, and it was an awkward moment he hadn’t thought about. He looked to the sky and a moment later, he rocketed upward with his teacher. This time, his body glowed the same bright blue that his eyes did.

  Mr. St. Germain screamed with surprise, his voice filled with awe and terror at his first flight with Quinn. “Holy crap, you can fly!”

  Quinn leveled out at several hundred feet and flew due east, hoping to avoid the populated areas—especially since he was glowing bright blue. Moments later, they flew over Little Harbor, zipping past the Wentworth by the Sea resort.

  “You’re really bright right now,” Mr. St. Germain said.

  “The glowing body thing is new,” Quinn said. “It doesn’t seem to matter if we have clothes on or not, clothing just glows with us. Still, I think we glow more without clothes or with less layers.”

  “I’ll take your word on that.”

  “Hang on!” Quinn exclaimed, diving down toward the water.

  Mr. St. Germain yelled and laughed, grabbing Quinn’s arms and holding on for dear life.

  Quinn pulled up and accelerated, flying around New Castle Island and making his way toward South Street Cemetery. A minute later, he slowed down and landed, setting his teacher safely on first base next to where Blake was sitting.

  “Well, Mr. St. Germain, I guess you got to first base with a superhero tonight,” Blake teased.

  “Inappropriate,” Quinn said, laughing. He released his teacher and stepped back.

  Mr. St. Germain, laughing hysterically while simultaneously hyperventilating with excitement, sat down next to Blake, resting his arms on his knees. “That was amazing!” he said, slapping the sides of his face with his hands. “Okay, I have so many questions…I don’t even know where to begin. We have so much more to discover together.”

  Quinn smiled. This is what I want…to learn how to help people. Now that you’re totally on board, we can do this. We can become the superheroes we’re meant to be.

  ❖

  Blake

  The sound of shattering ceramic jarred Blake from sleep. He sat up, surprised. Was I dreaming?

  It was still dark out, so it was too early for him to get up for school. A moment later, he heard his father yelling at his mother through the floor. She yelled a response back at him.

  Ugh.

  He didn’t need his super hearing to know what was going on. He flopped back down on the bed and sighed, debating whether he’d check it out or not. Something else crashed and broke, so he decided to get up because his parents were probably both sloshed and incoherent. Barefoot, wearing only his boxers, Blake quietly made his way down the carpeted stairwell, through the dark house, and into the kitchen doorway.

  It appeared as though his father, Ralph, had come home drunk from the lodge again and was trying to sober up with coffee before bed…not that the idea made any sense to Blake. He was waving a piece of paper around while shouting at his mother, Stella, who, on her hands and knees, was trying to pick up a broken coffee mug and some spilled milk. Looking around the kitchen, Blake assumed his father had thrown a coffee mug at the wall, thus explaining why coffee dripped down the wall and the front of the refrigerator onto the floor.

  Ralph wasn’t making much sense as he angrily rambled on, but it was clear the contents of the paper in his hand had pissed him off. Irritation filled Blake’s heart when he recognized the crumpled, unpaid hospital bill in his dad’s hand. Then, Blake thought his dad was going to kick his mom.

  “Hey!” Blake shouted, startling his parents.

  “Oh, hi, honey, did we wake you up?” his mother asked, speaking as if nothing unpleasant was going on.

  “You little shit,” Ralph spat, spinning around. Blake noted some drool and yellow vomit drying on his T-shirt. Gross.

  “Do you have any idea of how much your little hospital trip is going to cost us?

  Shit, not this again. This was the sixth time his father had seen the hospital bill and reacted like it was the first time he had opened it. Blake sighed. “Yes dad, about thirty grand.”

  “Thirty fuckin’ grand!” his father slurred back, waving the letter at Blake. “And you just stand there looking stupid at me every damn day.”

  “Yup,” Blake said, knowing the only way to end this conversation was to agree with his father. “I’ve asked my manager to double my shifts on weekends. Don’t worry, I’ll pay off as much as I can. It’s just hard when I’m trying to save for college…”

  Ralph waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll never get into college, so you better get used to working hard like me for the rest of your life.”

  Blake winced.

  “While you’re at it, get a real
job and stop pissing your life away making rich people’s coffee.”

  “I have school, dad.”

  “Fuck school. It ain’t done me no good, why should it help you?”

  “Okay, dad,” Blake said, surrendering and agreeing with his father, hoping it would calm him down. Wow, this is not going well at all tonight.

  Ralph let out a belch and waved a hand at his wife. “Fuck the coffee, Stella. I’m going to bed.”

  “Oh, okay, dear. Whatever you want,” his mom answered.

  “Out of my way, brat,” Ralph said, making a beeline for the stairs—but he never made it. Blake watched him trip over his own feet and fall face-forward onto the floor.

  “Ouch,” his father said. Then he put his head down and passed out.

  “Why do you put up with him?” Blake demanded, glaring at his mother. Shit, this isn’t helping, at all.

  Stella looked at him with anger and disgust. “That man is still your father and you owe him respect…”

  Blake rolled his eyes. “I owe him nothing.”

  “You may feel that way, but he provides for us. Without your father, we’d be out on the streets. You have a lot to be thankful for, young man.”

  Blake folded his arms and watched his mother wipe up the rest of the spilled coffee from the floor. “Why exactly did dad want coffee at two in the morning?”

  Stella paused, looked at Blake, and shrugged. “I don’t really know, hunny. It didn’t make any sense to me, but you know how your father gets when he’s in one of his moods.”

  “Uh-huh,” Blake responded.

  “Would you mind…”

  “Putting dad in his recliner? Sure.” Blake turned and went to his father. He dragged Ralph’s limp body into the living room—a usually difficult task, but tonight Blake had no trouble hefting his father’s deadweight. Grabbing his father under the arms, he pulled him onto the recliner and raised his feet. Okay, am I getting super strength, too? That definitely seemed easier than normal.

  Blake looked at him once more and shook his head. I need to get some air.

  He jogged upstairs and pulled on some sweatpants, sneakers, and a black hoodie. Then, he snuck out of the house to walk around the Atlantic Heights neighborhood.

  ❖

  Several minutes later, the cool fall air helped relax his mind from the abusive reality of his family life. For a brief moment, he contemplated whether his sister, Elizabeth, had made the right choice to emancipate herself and leave, but he needed a roof over his head if he wanted to graduate high school—something he knew he needed to do in order to get into college with Quinn.

  Maybe Victor could help me out somehow…

  He hated thinking about the day she walked out of his life because it reminded him of how powerless and betrayed he felt. Though she promised to visit him, she never returned and eventually he stopped waiting for her. His father made sure to disown her repeatedly for months after her emotional departure, constantly reminding Blake how important it was for family to stick together no matter what. Blake decided she was a coward and that he would never walk out on his parents like his sister did. As such, he resented Elizabeth and held her accountable for his miserable, lonely life at home. His only escape from the deepening Hargreaves hell was Quinn and his dads, who always welcomed him with open arms and showed him compassion and kindness without pity or condescension.

  “No, stop!” a female voice shouted.

  Pulled from his thoughts, Blake looked around and saw no one. He stopped walking and listened.

  A woman screamed. “I said stop!”

  “Shut the fuck up, little bitch!” a man yelled.

  He turned his head toward the sound but saw nothing. Then he realized his super hearing had tipped him off to a woman in distress somewhere in the area.

  She screamed again.

  A man laughed, but it wasn’t jovial; it was menacing.

  “Shut up, bitch,” another male voice said. “We don’t want to wake the entire neighborhood.”

  They’re in the baseball field.

  He turned and ran—fast—but his unexpected super speed caused him to overshoot the mark. He stopped in the middle of the Hislop Park outfield.

  He looked around and listened. The sound of a woman struggling for her life caught his ear and his eyes focused on three people in one of the dugouts. He felt himself becoming angry has he stormed toward them.

  “Hey!” he yelled, getting their attention, the adrenaline rush thrilling him beyond all measure.

  “What the heck?” one of the men yelled, startled by Blake’s voice. They turned to face him, then laughed. “It’s just a kid.”

  “Oh,” the other said, grimacing. “Beat it, kid, or we’ll have our way with you next, only it won’t be as fun, I promise you that.”

  “Leave her alone!” Blake shouted. He felt the power in his eyes come to life.

  “Holy crap!” one of them shouted at the sight of Blake’s glowing eyes.

  The men tried to regain their composure, but Blake was on them before they knew it. With hands hot with fury, he grabbed the shorter man and threw him halfway across the baseball field.

  Blake turned to watch the man scream and fly, stunned at what he had just done. Holy crap, did I just do that?

  “You little shit!” the other man yelled.

  Blake grunted when he felt a sharp pinch at his left side. Blake turned and saw a knife in the man’s hand. Knowing the knife had not pierced him, Blake turned back and glared at the man, whose faced widened with horror. Blake noted his orange and purple reflection in the man’s fearful eyes.

  Blake grabbed the man’s shoulders, digging his fingers into the man’s collar bone and shoulder muscles. The man screamed at the burning heat emanating from Blake’s hands. Then, Blake took a deep breath and yelled as he threw the man after his friend. He flew through the air and landed with a grunt, frantically thrashing around until he was back on his feet. The men screamed with terror, tripping over themselves as they ran away in the direction of the oil storage tanks on the other side of the Piscataqua River Bridge.

  “Are you all right?” Blake asked in a low voice, making sure his eyes continued to glow to hide his face.

  “Y…yes,” the woman stammered.

  “Go home. Don’t say anything about what you saw. They won’t be bothering you tonight.” Blake turned to walk away.

  “What are you?”

  “I’m nothing and no one,” he answered. “Keep it that way.”

  Then, he turned himself invisible and disappeared from view. Using his super speed, he ran back to his street,

  Now, I know how I want to bring justice to people. If that woman wasn’t watching…I would have burned them alive for what they were about to do to her…next time, maybe I won’t care to stop…

  2-3 | Forks in the Road

  Quinn

  QUINN TOOK A DEEP BREATH. Things were going well that day, especially after Mr. St. Germain had agreed to step up his mentoring and create the world’s first ever Superhero Responsibilities Manifesto, borrowing from what he could find on the Internet and adapting it to suit their needs.

  “Come on, you can do it,” Ravone said.

  “I know but he just makes me so…” Quinn said.

  “Weak-in-the-knees?” Loren quipped. “We know. Go ask him out. It’s just a date.”

  “It’s not just a date, Loren,” Quinn exclaimed, realizing he meant to whisper that phrase. He lowered his voice. “It’s potentially my first date and that’s a very big deal to me!”

  “We know!” Blake, Ravone, and Loren said together.

  “Now go!” Blake ordered, pushing Quinn forward.

  “All right, all right,” Quinn responded, nervously chuckling as he surrendered to his friends’ encouragement.

  Quinn stood and walked across the library, eyes glued to the dirty-blonde hair on the back of Keegan’s head. Please don’t say no, please don’t say no.

  When he approached and walked around the table
, Keegan smiled.

  “Oh hey, Quinn, what’s up?”

  “Hi. Um, can I sit down for a second?”

  “Yeah, sure. I have a test next period, so I can’t talk long.”

  Quinn sat. “That’s okay, I just, I um…” He paused and took a deep breath. His knee was bouncing a mile a minute under the table and some of the overhead lighting flickered when Keegan smiled, his blue eyes accentuated by the pastel blue polo shirt he wore.

  Quinn smiled back, but it felt giddy and silly. “Sorry, I…”

  “Take your time,” Keegan said, grinning. He put his pen down and folded his hands together on the table. “I don’t mind waiting for you.”

  Quinn nodded, missing the flirtatious comment. “Would you um…like to maybe, uh, go…out together after school this week? Like, I…uh…was thinking we could meet at Prescott Park and walk around together or maybe grab ice cream at Annabelle’s and…”

  “Yes,” Keegan said, grinning.

  “What?” Quinn asked, stunned by Keegan’s response.

  “Yes, Quinn. I’d love to hang out with you.”

  “Oh, well, see, I mean, I was thinking…like…it would be more than…hanging out.”

  “Oh?” Keegan said, his grin widening as his eyes sparkled mischievously.

  “Yeah, it’s um…a date. I’m asking you on a date.”

  Keegan nodded. “I know. My answer is still yes.”

  Quinn nodded back, playing it cool to hide the excitement bubbling up inside him. Keegan tore a piece of paper from his notebook, scrawled his phone number on it, and handed it to Quinn. “Text me later, handsome.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Quinn said, standing. “I mean, I will…uh…text you. Um, see you later, then…”

  Keegan winked at him and Quinn hustled through the library to his friends, his face flushed with excitement, giggling as he moved. Above him, two light bulbs sizzled and popped while others flickered.

  Ravone and Loren squealed with excitement and lightly clapped their hands. He saw Blake motion for him to calm down, but his infatuation with Keegan overpowered his senses. He took a deep breath and the lights stopped flickering.