“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Quinn asked, using his own words against him.
Blake looked at him with a confused expression.
Now!
Quinn launched himself at Blake, forming a long, thick ice spear in his right hand while the curled fingers of his left hand pointed at Blake and blasted him with white-hot electricity. A second later, Quinn hurled the sharp-tipped ice spear through Blake’s stomach, impaling him in midair.
Blake gasped, looked at his stomach, and dropped to the ground.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Quinn asked.
“Take aim!” one of the agent’s yelled. Blake glared at the approaching agents and then launched himself into the air, blood and water dripping from where the ice spear had run through him.
“This isn’t over, Quinn,” Blake yelled, his voice gurgling as he spat blood. Then, he rocketed away.
You’re not getting away that easy…
Quinn bent at the knees, ready to jump into the air, when a voice stopped him. “Let him go, Blue Spekter,” Agent Potter yelled as he crossed the ruined soccer field with several agents to meet up with him.
“Seriously?” Quinn said.
“Look around you, son…there are high school students everywhere. If he comes back and kids get killed…everything changes again.”
“Everything’s already changed,” Quinn replied.
“I know, but there will be another day. The war isn’t over yet.”
“Fine,” Quinn said, powering down his eyes and body.
“So, that’s what your face looks like, huh?”
Quinn touched his exposed face with his right hand and sheepishly smiled. “Um, yeah.” Shit, no super suit.
“Cool. Right now, there’s a really freaked out school principal you need to speak with. Applegate is with him now.”
Quinn rolled his eyes. “Oh boy.”
Potter chuckled. “Yup.”
“Hey, Quinn!” Peter called out, running across the field toward them. He was the high school’s star senior football player that Blue Spekter saved from drowning in the Piscataqua River.
“Easy, son,” one of the accompanying agents said, blocking his path, but Peter’s agility and immense six-foot-five height and muscular build allowed him to push past the agents with ease.
“It’s okay,” Quinn said, and Agent Potter gestured for his men to let him through.
Peter pulled off his Clippers hoodie as he jogged toward Quinn.
“Dude, this is crazy, I had no idea it was you who saved my life, and now you saved it again. You saved all of us.” He handed him the sweatshirt. “Here, take it, it’s cold.”
Quinn accepted the sweatshirt and pulled it on. “Thanks.” Then, he ran his hands through his messed-up hair and tried to fix it. I need to find Keegan.
Quinn walked back to the school with Peter and Agent Potter. Students were still freaking out, and most of them stared at him with wonderment or fear as he approached the main doors of the school. Quinn kept his eyes peeled for Keegan, but he didn’t see his boyfriend outside anywhere. When they entered the school, Quinn turned to Peter. “I have to go to my locker and get a shirt if you want your sweatshirt back.”
Peter smiled and shook his head. “Keep it. Maybe one day you’ll wear it while saving someone else.” Then, Peter extended his arms and pulled Quinn in for a hug. “Thanks. I’ve always wanted to thank the person who saved my life, but I never knew how I could get close to Blue Spekter. You rock, dude.” Then, Peter turned and walked down the highway.
Feel a rush of appreciation, Quinn smiled.
“Not everyone’s going to be that easy,” Potter said.
Quinn frowned. Thanks for raining on my parade. He sighed and thought of a witty response. “I know, I’ve already had to deal with you.”
“Touché.” They entered the main office and the secretaries waved them through to the principal’s office, where he and Chief Applegate were speaking. Thirty minutes later, after reassuring the principle that Quinn was not destructive and would work with the DHS and the police to keep the school safe, Quinn and Agent Potter left the office and walked to the gymnasium to assess the damage.
“What’s it like, being a teenage superhero?” Agent Potter asked.
Quinn chuckled, knowing he was filling the awkward silence with chatter. “You’d think it’d be fun, but it’s a lot of work. Saving people, running from you, figuring out what The Order is, fighting Blake, and trying to be a normal teen.”
“Yeah, I get it. I thought defending our country would be awesome, but holy moly, it’s not an easy job.”
“I’ll bet.” Small talk with Agent Potter is weird.
Inside the gym, most of the holiday decorations were in ruin, crushed by the mad stampede of students fleeing the destruction that he and Blake could have wreaked upon them. A small pile of debris sat in the middle of the basketball court under the hole Quinn had made.
“I thought there would be a bigger mess,” Quinn said.
“I suspect most of the debris is on the roof. We’ll have a team help get this fixed right away.”
“Thanks,”
“Do you want an escort home?” Agent Potter asked.
Quinn shook his head. “Nah, I’ll just fly home.”
“All right. Remember, some of your fellow students won’t be accepting of you.”
“There’s the freak!” Darien James yelled from the open doors of the gymnasium that led into the school. Kyle and Tony were with him.
“Speaking of which, do you think you could look the other way for a few minutes?” Quinn asked.
“Um, why?”
“I um…because I need to teach the school bully a lesson.”
Agent Potter frowned at him. “Quinn, you can’t really be serious about hurting him, or are you?”
His ears pricked up at the mention of his name. “So, I guess Chief Applegate told you my name?”
“Of course, but I also heard the football player call you Quinn.”
“Right.” Duh. “Anyway, I’ll be right back.” Quinn turned and stared at Darien, then walked toward him. The bully puffed out his chest and stood his ground, but Quinn didn’t slow his approach. The closer he got, the more nervous Darien appeared.
“He’s going to hurt me,” Darien yelled, pulling Kyle in front of him.
Kyle’s eyes bugged open with fear and he jumped out of the way. “Don’t put me between you guys!”
Quinn smiled and stopped, standing inches from Darien’s nervous face. “I want you to remember something, Darien. You have nothing over me anymore, do you understand? You can’t hurt me, you can’t bully me, and you can’t blackmail me. Got it?
“Yeah, I got it,” Darien said. “But you still suck, you little faggot.” A hand came down on Darien’s shoulder and Mr. St. Germain spun him around. “That’s three nights of detention, Darien. Now, march to the principal’s office.”
“Whatever, I don’t even know why we’re still here after everything that happened.”
Quinn looked back at Agent Potter, who smiled and and gave him a thumbs up.
“Nice job, Quinn,” Ron said. “You fought Blake and you kept the school safe.”
“Thanks.” Then, Quinn made his way to the cafeteria, desperate to find Keegan.
When he entered the cafeteria, he saw Loren and Ravone sitting with a group of students. When they saw him enter, they and everyone else stared at him and the cafeteria fell silent. Quinn slowly crossed, feeling the pressure of everyone’s eyes on him. Then, he stopped walking and looked around.
“I’m sorry you had to see Blake and me fight, but I’m glad I was here to stop him from hurting you. That’s all I want to do, help keep people safe.”
Then, one person clapped for him. The sound came from the other side of the cafeteria. Quinn turned and saw football star Peter, who doubled as school’s unspoken captain of enthusiasm, standing alone amongst his seated football team, clapping and nodding with approval.
“Yeah, that’s him ri
ght there, our own Blue Spekter. That kid saved our butts today, so he deserves our thanks.”
Then, a few more people started clapping until two-thirds of the students in the cafeteria applauded for him. Some students still looked pissed. Their folded arms and body language conveyed their fear and trepidation. Quinn knew the road ahead would now be filled with more challenges, but if his friends would accept him, he could get by. He continued walking to Ravone and Loren, who applauded and smiled at him.
Thank goodness. Now, where the hell is Keegan?
4-14 | You Can’t Give Up Now
Blake
BLAKE GRUNTED AND CRASHED THROUGH barren ash and oak tree limbs in the snowy woods between the high school and the South Street residential area, unable to sustain flight. He hit the ground with a thud and rolled, coming to rest on his left side. Somewhere in the distance, a surprised dog barked at commotion and the agonized sounds he made as he tried to sit up.
He gave up when the excruciating pain near his left hip and femur suggested he had broken bones as well. His hands trembled as he looked down at the ice spear that skewered him. He tried to pull it out, but his hands slipped in water and hot blood with each attempt. Also, moving the ice spear sent waves of pain through his torso.
Oh shit, oh shit, don’t go into shock…if Quinn can heal from this, so can you.
He focused and took several shallow breaths, then warmed his torso.
“Hey mister, are you okay?”
Blake panicked and looked over his right shoulder. There, a young boy pulling a sled through the snow stared at him, wide eyed.
“Why are your eyes orange? Are you Blue Spekter?”
“Go away,” Blake hissed, struggling to warm his torso.
“Why aren’t you wearing a coat?”
Freaking nosy kid.
“I said go away!” He coughed and spat up blood. The ice spear melted faster and Blake’s insides felt cold and itchy as they healed.
“Ollie!” a woman in the distance called out. “It’s time to come in.”
“Okay, mom, but I found a man,” the boy called out.
“You what?” The mother’s voice sounded alarmed and panicked.
Dammit.
Blake’s super hearing alerted him to her hurried footsteps in the deep snow. He looked down in frustration, but the ice spear still pierced him.
He watched a woman in sweat clothes push through the snowy pine trees between him and her home. She abruptly stopped when she saw a shirtless, bloody teenaged boy lanced with an ice spear with dimly glowing orange eyes. Her face conveyed alarm and recognition, and he assumed his glowing eyes told her all she needed to know.
“Ollie, come here,” she said, reaching for her son.
“But mom, he needs help,” Ollie replied, slowly trudging to his mother.
“We can call an ambulance for help.”
Blake watched her hands tap at her pockets, but she stopped when she realized her phone wasn’t on her.
“Just go,” he said. He raised his arm and swiped at the ice spear, but when he hit it, the ice did not break. He cried out in pain as it vibrated through his body.
“Come on, leave the sled,” the mother said, but her words were lost to the throbbing pain in his head and body,
Blake struck the ice spear again and it snapped in half at his stomach. Grunting and breathing rapidly, Blake rolled forward, yelling in pain as his body rolled off the spear. When it slid out of his back and fell to the ground, he collapsed next to it and his breath caught in his throat at the pain. He was momentarily paralyzed, unable to move or scream. Then, his body felt itchy as it mended itself.
Minutes later, his stomach and the broken bones on his left side healed and he sat up. He looked to his right, where the sled had been abandoned by the boy and his mother who were now long gone. The sound of approaching police sirens told him the mom had called 911. He stood and brushed the snow off his purple tights.
No point sticking around here.
He jumped, ascended into the sky, and turned invisible as he flew over Leary Field and the police station.
❖
Back at his condo, Blake towel-dried his wet hair after showering and then hung the towel over the bar and walked to his bedroom. He pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and a sleeveless muscle shirt. He picked up his torn jeans and pulled his phone out of the front pocket.
Dammit.
The glass was cracked and the top half of the touchscreen didn’t work, though the phone seemed to function otherwise. He sighed and went downstairs to heat up a frozen entree.
I have nothing left.
I have no idea where Victor is, and I can’t go back to the naval prison or Rangeley because nothing’s there. Quinn’s taken everything away from me…it’s time I take something away from him…but what?
No, not what, who…
Keegan.
It’s time he suffers like I have and comes to know what it’s like to be on the wrong end of the gilded spoon.
He laid down on his bed, intending to nap for a few minutes, and closed his eyes.
A knock at his door startled him, and he checked the time. It was five-thirty at night.
What the hell?
He pushed himself up and padded downstairs, barefoot, still wearing only boxers and the sleeveless muscle shirt.
Someone knocked again. “Blake?” a young man’s voice called out. It was familiar, but he wasn’t sure who it belonged to. He approached the door and opened it. A soaked, frozen, shivering man blinked at him. The man’s wet, iced-over hair was plastered to his forehead and a shaking hand brushed it out of his eyes.
“H-hi.” The man’s teeth chattered in his mouth.
Blake looked the man up-and-down and marveled at his wet clothes, given it was mid-December. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I’m f-f-freezing, c-c-can I c-c-c-come in?”
“Who are you?” Blake asked.
“It’s me, Alex, from S-s-seavey Island.” He brushed his frozen hair off his forehead once more.
“Oh, right,” Blake responded, finally recognizing the soaked man.
Alex pushed his way into Blake’s condo.
Blake stepped. “Uh, sure, come in.”
Alex wasn’t much older than Blake, and since the receptionist was always responsive to his questions, Blake didn’t stop him. Closing the door behind him, Blake turned around as Alex pulled the wet backpack off of his back and set it on the tile floor next to him.
Then, he started stripping off his wet clothes, starting with his water-logged winter coat.
“You gonna tell me what happened and why you’re in my condo looking like you took a swim in the river in the winter?” Blake asked, slightly uncomfortable at how close they were standing.
Shivering Alex didn’t seem to care, and he nodded, his teeth chattered mercilessly. “That’s b-b-because I did. When the soldiers attacked the island t-t-today, I grabbed-d-d what I needed to secure. It’s in my b-b-bag. We have…protocols in place for a facility assault or c-c-capture, but I couldn’t get out until about an hour ago b-b-because they would’ve seen me in the d-d-daylight-t-t.” He dropped his wet coat onto the tile floor of Blake’s entryway, then kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his pants, pulling off his socks. The skin of his legs was white and blue, and Blake realized he was in danger of hypothermia.
“You’re freezing,” Blake commented. “You need a hot shower.”
Alex nodded, his teeth chattering. “P-p-please,” he said, his eyes ready to burst into tears. “I’ll tell you everything after I’m warmed up.”
Blake pointed toward the first-floor bathroom. “There’s a shower over there.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, his trembling fingers struggling to unbutton his shirt. They were pale and blue, and they seemed stiff and inflexible.
Blake sighed. “Here.” He raised his right hand and heated it up, putting his hand close to Alex’s shaking fingers.
“Thanks, that feels so good
.” When he finished, he pulled off his dress shirt and soaked T-shirt. Then, he made his way through the condo to the bathroom, his armed wrapped around his body. Then, Blake watched Alex’s eyes move up and down his body, but it didn’t feel overtly sexual. “I don’t suppose you have any clothes I can borrow, do you? I figure we’re about the same size.”
Blake nodded. “Sure. I’ll get something for you, and I’ll put these clothes in the dryer if you want,”
“Yes please,” Alex turned around, pulled off his wet boxer briefs, hung them on the outer door knob, then shut the door and turned on the shower water.
Blake picked up Alex’s wet clothes and brought them upstairs to the laundry room and stuffed everything in the dryer. He put the man’s drenched dress shoes on top of the heater next to the dryer. At the last second, he checked Alex’s pants pockets, but they were empty. Then, he shut the dryer door and started the automatic cycle.
Hmm, interesting.
Walking to this bedroom, he dressed himself and pulled out fresh underwear, socks, a T-shirt, his maroon Clippers sweatpants and matching hooded sweatshirt, and brought them downstairs. He knocked on the the bathroom door and opened it.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, I’m putting dry clothes on the corner of the sink counter for you.”
“Thanks,” Alex called out from behind the fogged shower glass. “I think I finally stopped shivering,” he said.
“Good,” Blake replied.
“I think my fingers and toes will be okay, too.”
“Great, see you when you’re done. Take your time.”
Fifteen minutes later, the shower turned off. Blake stood at the stove, warming a Bertolli frozen pasta dinner in a sauté pan on the stovetop.
Another knock at his front door made him jump.
Now what?
He lowered the heat of the stove and went to the front door and opened it.
Aw, crap. You.
“Hi,” the red-headed girl said, twirling her hair with her left hand as Blake opened the door.
Ugh, not now.
“Can I help you?” Blake asked.
The girl’s eyes tracked to something behind Blake and she frowned.
“Never though I’d wear the gear of my enemy,” Alex quipped, walking into the kitchen and wearing Blake’s clothes. His hair was towel-dried and unruly. He froze when he saw the red-headed girl.
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