Both Blake and the man stared at the knife, then back into each other’s eyes.
“Oops,” Blake responded, smirking. “I guess you’re about to find out just how tough I am.”
He brought his closed right fist in front of the man’s face and flicked his fingers, using telekinesis to push the man off him and send him staggering back several paces. Then, Blake took a deep breath and pounded the ground with both fists, willing himself to a standing position.
“Run!” the shorter man said.
“Not this time,” Blake sneered. Reaching out with his telekinetic powers, he grabbed his assailants and pulled them to him, a hand extended toward each man. He held them up, several inches above the ground. They were helpless, unable to run or break free from his invisible grasp.
“We’re sorry, we’ll do anything you want, we’ll never…”
“Shut up,” Blake snapped, silencing the babbling larger man. He looked around as an idea formed in his head. He started walking toward I-95. “The problem with scum like you is that you never learn. You can make all the promises you want, but you’ll never stop being scum.”
“We can try, we promise, we can try to stop…”
Blake pulled the sputtering men toward him and screamed at them. “I said shut up!” Then he blasted them upward into the night sky, hoping his trajectory was on point. If not, he could always pull them back on course.
The men screamed as they soared over one hundred feet into the air, arcing over the six-lane highway ramp of the Piscataqua River Bridge.
I wish I could fly right about now…
Blake ran—using super speed—under the bridge and stopped when he was on the other side, standing in front of the oil storage tanks. Using his super hearing and vision, he spotted the men falling toward him. He reached out and grabbed them, abruptly stopping their rapid descent a mere inch from the ground. Their screaming stopped when they didn’t splatter.
Blake released them, letting them fall the last few inches to the pavement. When they realized they weren’t dead, they cried, begged, and pleaded for their lives. His eyes blazed with orange power, full of resentment, anger, and vengeance. The taller man threw up on himself, yellow and brown vomit cascading down the front of his flannel shirt and jeans. His vomit reeked of soured alcohol and it reminded him of when his dad violently threw up after Elizabeth had moved out on the night he drowned his emotions with fast food, a handle of cheap whiskey, and copious amounts beer.
Elizabeth…that traitor.
He thought about how she abandoned him to fend for himself with his alcoholic parents. He resented his father and mother, but understood he needed them for two more years. He cursed himself for not having the balls to be as independent as Elizabeth and take care of himself, but he couldn’t get out. His only solace was Quinn and his dads, but Quinn had different goals that Blake didn’t want to pursue. Superman, Batman, the other heroes, they never took it far enough. Lex Luther, the Joker, and all the comic book evil villains kept coming back because the heroes were too afraid to do what needed to be done.
Victor understood that, and now, Blake started to understand this as well. He thought about his conversations with Victor and the kind of justice he wanted to impart; he would never be the superhero Quinn wanted to be. He knew he couldn’t stand by and let criminals like these guys fly under the police radar and continue to hurt people. Victor was right, they needed to be dealt with differently, and Blake realized he had the power to do something.
“People like you can’t be punished enough,” he said. “I’ve decided that’s the problem with criminals these days; you don’t fear the cops. Instead, maybe, you’ll fear the guy who can hurt you, the one you can’t stop…the one with his own brand of…injustice.”
The men fearfully looked at each other, scrambled to their feet, and tried to run away. Blake pulled their legs out from under them and dragged the men behind him with his mind as he walked toward the river.
“Unfortunately for you, I’ve decided it’s up to me to make scum like you pay when the justice system fails.”
He threw the men in front of him, sending them rolling down the embankment. Whenever they tried to get back on their feet, he swiped their legs out from under them. Again and again, the men tried to escape his will, but when they reached the river’s edge, their fight had run out.
The smaller man, Blake noticed, had wet himself. “Are you going to kill us?” he asked.
Blake froze. What exactly am I going to do with them? Am I going to become a killer? Is that what I want to be? The super villain judge and jury of the ones the system doesn’t deal with? Am I ready to do whatever I must to exact this unique justice Victor keeps talking about? Am I supposed to…kill people?
If I let these two go, they’ll only go after someone else. I can’t let them hurt any more people…but maybe I don’t have to play executioner today…or at least until I’m ready for that.
“No,” Blake said. He walked forward, toward the men. They backed up in fear. “Rumor has it that it only takes three minutes to be swept out to sea when the tide is running out of the harbor…which it looks like it’s doing now. So, I leave your fate to the same twisted, cruel misfortune you bring upon others.”
Blake grabbed them with his power and held them in the air, holding them for a moment. They sniveled and whimpered, terrified of what was to come.
He smirked. “I hope you can swim. If you survive, I never want to see you again.” Then, he flicked his fingers and flung the men high into the air. Once more they flew in an arc and splashed into the middle of the chaotic, fast-running river. The turbulent outgoing tidal churn caught the men in its mighty power and swept them out to sea—assuming the riptide didn’t drag them under to their death first.
2-7 | It's a Different World Now
Quinn
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I RESCHEDULED my date with Keegan again to talk to Victor,” Quinn mumbled, pulling his shirt on. The boys had just finished track practice and were dressing after showering. True to his word, Keegan had attended track practice before their date, but Quinn had to disappoint him with an excuse to reschedule in order to meet with Victor Kraze.
“I’ll make sure you get your date with him tomorrow, and don’t worry, I’ll tell him it was all my fault,” Blake responded, stepping into his pants.
Quinn rolled his eyes, knowing their powers were infinitely more important than his love life, but his heart felt otherwise. He appreciated Blake’s willingness to take the blame, but he couldn’t help feeling like his best friend was only appeasing him to get at something else. On top of that, Quinn sensed something was different about Blake today; he had a new confidence—or arrogance—Quinn had never experienced before.
They finished dressing, packed up their gym bags, and headed out to the parking lot where Quinn’s dads’ SUV was parked.
“Good thing you got the car today.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Although the car was convenient when he had a lot to carry, today it offered them discreet transportation to meet Victor. Quinn drove them across town and parked at the Button Factory, a renovated mill building that housed over thirty studios for the area’s artists, craftsmen, and sculptors.
“We’re meeting him here?”
“That’s what he said. Apparently, he was able to arrange some private space inside. I don’t really know the details.”
The boys made their way into the building. Just inside, Quinn saw two men in suits, presumably armed, standing near the stairwell. They nodded at Blake. “Gentlemen, third floor to your left please,” one of them said, pointing up the stairs.
They ascended the stairs as instructed. On the third floor, they found Victor sitting in an art studio with far-out paintings of space and other futuristic imagery.
“Hello, Blake. Hello, Quinn,” Victor said, standing and offering his hand. He wore the same or a similar black suit, white shirt, and black tie that he wore back in the hospital.
Quinn shook Victo
r’s hand and accepted a seat when Victor gestured toward the chairs he had arranged in the small studio.
“Blake, would you shut the door please?” Victor asked.
Blake smiled and glanced at the door. A moment later it swung shut and latched.
Quinn looked at Blake, surprised. I guess we’re not being shy with our powers anymore, huh?
Blake shrugged, as if he could read Quinn’s mind.
“All right, Victor, I’m here. Out with it. I want to know what happened and why you won’t leave us alone.”
Victor smiled narrowly. “Very well. And while we’re at it, let’s be clear, I know you returned to the facility and explored it again.”
“Yeah, I know. Blake told me.” Quinn nodded and listened as Victor explained—with a certain element of vagueness—the history of Orgonon and the work Wilhelm Reich started.
“Everything we’ve done at the Rangeley facility has been to continue developing Wilhelm’s work while effectively downplaying its importance to the rest of the world.”
“Is that why we can’t find anything about it on the Internet?” Quinn asked.
“Exactly. We have people who ensure certain information never reaches the public forum or the international intelligence communities.”
“You keep talking about the Rangeley facility; are there others?” Quinn asked.
Victor nodded. “Yes, spread throughout New England. There’s one right here in Portsmouth, right under everyone’s nose.”
“Where?” Blake asked.
Victor shook his head. “I’m not trying to dangle a carrot; I really can’t tell you right now.”
Quinn frowned and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “So, what happened to us in the cave?”
“We’re honestly not sure. We know you triggered a full orgone energy transfer. It took a solid year to build that stockpile up, and you drained it in seconds. As I told Blake, there’s no reason you guys should have been able to survive that level of exposure. And, since Blake brought it up during one of our previous conversations, yes, previous experimentation was conducted on organic tissue, though not with the intent of infusing superhuman powers.”
“Are you talking about animal or human organic tissue?” Quinn asked, frowning.
“Both. Neither survived.”
“The intent being?” Quinn pressed.
“Psychological pursuits to open or enhance the power of the mind, but what they theorized about is pebbles when compared to what you’re developing. The animals were used to verify the biological safety of the orgone energy infusion.”
“Okay,” Blake intoned hesitantly, looking at Quinn, his eyebrows furled.
Quinn felt equally confused. “That doesn’t explain what the Orgonon Reactor Core does and what it’s for today. We saw all your weird antennas and things. Why did it have a full charge?”
Victor took a deep breath. “Well, the work we have been doing for the past forty years hasn’t been focused on psychological pursuits.”
“Then why were you so angry and excited to learn about our powers?” Blake asked.
Quinn smirked. At least he’s still on my side, for now…
Victor looked at the boys with incredulous surprise. “Really? You two just proved an abandoned project theory to be true and grossly understated.”
“So, when do the human experiments come?” Quinn asked with a half-serious, half-sarcastic tone.
Victor shook his head and narrowed his eyes. “They don’t. We will ask questions or ask to monitor your brain waves, but slicing you open would not help us gain information. Rather, collaboration with you to gain greater understanding will help further our knowledge of the science behind your powers. In fact, my organization is prepared to offer you full protection from the police and the Internet. Unless, Quinn, you decide you want to pursue superhero vigilantism as Blue Spekter. It would be more difficult for my peers to protect you if…” he paused, searching for the right word.
If they can’t control me…you mean. “I haven’t made up my mind yet,” Quinn responded skeptically.
“So, your offer…what conditions does it come with?” Blake asked.
“Your cooperation, of course. We want you to work with us. Your powers should continue to evolve, and we want to catalogue and document…”
“And do experiments?” Quinn asked, echoing his previous sentiment.
Victor shook his head and responded flatly. “There will be no invasive experiments.”
“And the antennas and those weird guns?”
Victor smiled, his mood shifting. “Those you can find on the Internet. Did you not search for Wilhelm’s work?”
“Yeah, they looked like his Cloudbuster invention.”
Victor clapped his hands with zeal and smiled. “That’s exactly what they are…only we’ve perfected the science. We can manipulate the weather. Remember the freak storm on Saturday night before you wandered into the reactor core? That was the reactor’s final charge moment. The antennas harness orgone from the atmosphere and transfer it to the reactor, where it’s processed and stored in the energy cells beneath it.”
“Wait, you created the freak storm that tore through the woods and nearly killed innocent campers?” Quinn asked, astounded.
“Uh, yes, unfortunately we had a targeting misfire,” Victor answered, raising his hands in surrender. “I really have no excuse for that one. I realize a lethal situation could have…”
“But you wouldn’t have come forward, would you, if that microburst tore through the campground and killed people?” Quinn asked angrily.
“No, Quinn, we would not have come forward. Our organization enjoys certain immunities from United States law, and in some cases, international law.”
“Why do you need to control the weather like that?”
Victor frowned again. “A number of morally good reasons should come to mind. To avert disasters like Hurricanes Irene and Katrina, and other storms. To create rain during times of drought, and to create dryness in periods of over-precipitation.”
“Or the exact opposite,” Quinn said dryly. He felt himself becoming warm, as if his frustration was triggering his limited heating ability. Calm down…
“Yes, the technology could be used to…entice our enemies to conform to certain standards of behavior.”
“Why aren’t you doing it now, then?” Blake asked.
“Good question. And the answer is simple: the technology isn’t perfected yet. We can’t affect an area the size of a category five hurricane and neutralize it.”
Quinn raised his index finger to indicate they should pause. “Um, hold on…you said, ‘our enemies?’ Who exactly are these enemies?”
Victor leaned forward and narrowed his eyes again. “Anyone who becomes a threat to humanity on a local or global scale the organization deems necessary to coerce into better behavior or to eliminate. Remember, we operate at a higher level than the law with a strict governance to ensure proper controls are in place at all times.”
“And who’s we again?”
“The organization I work for.”
“Which is what?”
“Top secret, at this point. I’m sorry.”
“Uh-huh.” Quinn frowned, unconvinced. He looked at Blake, who smiled at him. Oh man, Blake already believes in this stuff.
Victor sat back and sneered but regained his composure. “Let me put it another way. Like it or not, we gave you those powers, even if you accidentally acquired them. If you hadn’t wandered into the Orgonon Reactor Core, you’d still be ordinary Quinn and Blake, track superstars at Portsmouth High—but that’s about it. Now, you have real power to make a difference in the world; to change things for the better. What if the small-town, silly notion of Blue Spekter you’re entertaining could become something more than a local workman-saving hero? What if he could become a global secret who provided greater security than you ever could masquerading as the costumed, comic-book inspired superhero you think you want to be?”
Q
uinn smirked. Victor knew exactly how to manipulate Blake, and although his ideas had merit, skepticism held its ground in Quinn’s mind. “I don’t know. I need to think about this more. I appreciate what you have to offer, I just can’t agree without seeing more.”
I also can’t help thinking there’s some hidden agenda behind all of this.
❖
Blake
Blake frowned. He knew his best friend wouldn’t want to work with Victor because Quinn’s moral sense wouldn’t let him punish those who needed to be dealt with, like Blake was willing to do. He had already done it, and it felt good, right, and natural. Surprisingly, his conscience didn’t bother him over leaving those two criminals to nature’s whims. Because, he felt, they got what they deserved.
“What about me?” Blake asked.
“You aren’t far behind, Blake. Yes, your powers are different at the moment, but you will become a force to be reckoned with. Like I’ve said before, there’s no science defining how or why your powers may emerge.”
Blake shook his head and sighed, eyeing Quinn. He could feel warmth coming from his best friend.
Victor looked at Blake quizzically. “Are you interested in fighting crime alongside Quinn? Do you have a superhero name in mind?
“Bonfire Boy,” Quinn teased.
“No,” Blake answered, a little too firmly, rolling his eyes. Quinn looked at him, his right eyebrow raised as Blake continued. “I don’t want to become a dynamic duo or be his sidekick; I’m not the Robin to his Batman. I’m ready to embrace whatever I can do and work with you, Victor.”
“But what if we could be some kind of dynamic duo?” Quinn asked, almost pleading. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to fight crime with me?”
Blake looked at Quinn but pointed at Victor. “Yes, it would, but with the power and support he can provide backing us. You know what the police think of you and it’s only been a couple of weeks. They want nothing to do with a vigilante and they’re terrified they won’t be able to control you. Besides, we live in little-old-Portsmouth. What kind of crime do you think we’re going to be fighting?”
The Guardians Omnibus Page 24