by Wesley King
ALSO BY WESLEY KING:
WESLEY KING
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS • AN IMPRINT OF PENGUIN GROUP (USA) INC.
For Juliana
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS • An imprint of Penguin Young Readers Group.
Published by The Penguin Group.
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Copyright © 2013 by Wesley King.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission in writing from the publisher, G. P. Putnam’s Sons, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 345 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, Reg. U.S. Pat & Tm. Off. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Published simultaneously in Canada. Printed in the United States of America.
Design by Annie Ericsson. Text set in Scherzo Std.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
King, Wesley.
The Feros / Wesley King. pages cm
Sequel to: The Vindico.
Summary: “James, Hayden, Lana, Sam and Emily use their new superpowers to try to save abducted members of the League of Heroes, and when Emily disappears, they must find their friend before it’s too late”—Provided by publisher.
[1. Superheroes—Fiction. 2. Supervillains—Fiction. 3. Good and evil—Fiction. 4. Kidnapping—Fiction. 5. Science fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.K58922Fe 2013 [Fic]—dc23 2012048222
ISBN 978-1-101-60330-7
Contents
Also by Wesley King
Title Page
Dedication
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
1
“JUST ONE TRYOUT,” COACH THOMPSON SAID, JOGGING TO KEEP UP WITH James. “No, not even. You’re a walk-on. Just show up tomorrow for the team’s preseason workout and you’re in.”
“No,” James replied firmly. He picked up his pace. He had been walking down the hallway after class when the coach appeared beside him. This was not the first time he’d asked. It had been an ongoing argument for almost two weeks now.
“Just think about it,” he said.
“I did. Still no.”
The coach scurried in front of James and proceeded to walk backward so he could stare directly into James’s eyes. His tight yellow sweater, embroidered with a big C, was straining against his muscular arms. “Can I ask why?”
James sighed and glanced at his friends Dennis and Pete for support. They were both pointedly looking away.
“Because I don’t like football,” James explained. “I don’t get the point.”
“The point is to score points and win the game! What don’t you get?”
James rolled his eyes. “Yes, I figured that much out. But why would I want to do that?”
The other students were all staring at James as he walked down the hall, whispering among themselves, but he barely even noticed. He was used to that by now.
His return to Cambilsford High had been a source of gossip and debate for four months now, and the interest still hadn’t subsided. The League’s official story, the one they’d reported to the media, was that James, Hayden, Lana, Emily, and Sam had been taken hostage by the Vindico as a scare tactic. They were allegedly held in a small prison compound in the Wisconsin wilderness, unharmed, in an attempt to distract the League and the public at large as they tried to take down Thunderbolt.
But that story didn’t explain how a pale, skinny kid had managed to come back with bulging muscles in the space of a month. How and why that happened was a question asked in the hallways at least forty-five times a day. And then there was the story from Mark Dilson, who claimed that he’d had a conversation with James shortly before being tossed out of a bus by a giant assailant.
“Why?” Coach Thompson exclaimed. “Why? Because football is more than a game, James! It’s an opportunity! I saw you in the weight room with my own eyes. You bench-pressed six hundred pounds and you didn’t even break a sweat! You could be a defensive tackle! The best. Don’t you want a scholarship?”
“No thanks,” James said. “I’m good.”
The coach threw his hands up in the air. “You don’t want to go to college?”
James shook his head. “I’m going to go a different route, I think. Thank you, Coach, but I’m going to have to say no. Again.”
“All right,” he muttered. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
James watched Coach Thompson storm off and noticed several younger girls hastily turn away giggling from where they’d been watching the conversation.
“I wish he’d stop bothering me,” James said to Dennis and Pete.
“I wish I had your problems,” Dennis replied sourly. “Oh no! The football coach is begging me to be on the team—what a tragedy! Life is a struggle!”
“What is with you lately?” James said. “Your sarcasm has escalated to whining.”
Dennis turned to face him. “Do you know how badly I want to be on that team? Do you understand what it means? Girls, popularity, friends. And yeah, most of those things would be for you. But we’ll come along for the ride!”
James scowled. “I’m not playing football.”
“Come on,” Dennis pleaded. “I’ll even memorize the plays for you.”
“How would that help?” Pete asked.
James started walking again and they both scrambled to catch up. I can’t play because the League would arrest me for abusing my powers, he thought. Not to mention the fact tha
t he’d already be living in League headquarters before the season started. But he couldn’t tell that to Dennis and Pete. Thunderbolt’s instructions to the five former protégés had been clear: they were not to use their powers, and they were not to speak about what happened to them. James just had to stay patient. In two months, he would finally be able to join the League of Heroes and become the superhero he always dreamed of being.
“I don’t want to—end of story,” he said aloud. “And stop asking me. I get enough grief from Thompson.”
“Uh-oh . . . look who it is,” Pete murmured as they rounded the corner.
Up ahead, James’s ex-girlfriend, Sara, was standing beside his locker, fidgeting with her shirt. Her chestnut hair was streaked with a few blond highlights and artfully swept over her shoulder. When they’d first started dating, she’d worn jeans and graphic tees of League members to school; now it was always skirts and tank tops and expensive purses. At the sight of James, she perked up and gave him a shy wave.
“Not this again,” Dennis said. “She just doesn’t quit.”
“That seems to be a theme lately,” James agreed, and continued to his locker.
Sara smiled. “Hey, James. I was just walking by . . . thought I’d say hi.”
“Hi,” James said, undoing his lock. “How’s everything going?”
“Fine . . . ” she replied airily. “Well . . . Mark and I broke up.”
James piled his textbooks on the shelf. “Oh yeah?”
“Wasn’t the same, I guess.” She leaned against another locker and played with a strand of her hair. “I also wanted to say sorry again for everything that happened . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” James said, throwing on his jacket. “I keep telling you, it worked out fine.”
He’d had to buy all new clothes over the last two months since everything else had ripped when he’d tried to squeeze into them. He noticed that Sara was staring at his arms, where the brown leather coat was straining to hold in his biceps. I suppose I still went a bit tight with the new stuff, he thought.
“Hi, Sara,” Dennis said finally. “No, you’re not imagining us. We’re really here.”
Sara frowned. “Hey, guys,” she replied distractedly, and then shifted back to James. “I know you keep saying that, but still. I acted so stupidly, and you didn’t deserve it—”
“It’s fine,” James repeated. “Trust me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, he started for the front doors, and Dennis and Pete hurried after him.
“Nice,” Pete said, grinning.
“Very abrupt,” Dennis agreed. “She looked stunned.”
James glanced at them. “Do you have to comment on everything?”
Dennis nodded. “Yes.”
Pushing through the front doors, James stepped outside into the cool winter air. The trees surrounding the school were bare and covered with a light dusting of snow, and the sky was a clear blue. Tucking his hands into his jacket pockets, he hurried down the steps.
“Now, about football—” Dennis started again.
“Enough!” James said to him sharply.
Across the parking lot, a small boy carrying a pile of textbooks was being pushed around by a few older kids, who were laughing as he tried to get past them. One of them knocked the books out of his hand, and as he bent down, another boy pushed him to the ground.
“Maybe we should go call a teacher,” Pete said, glancing at James and Dennis.
James narrowed his eyes. “I’ll go.”
He jogged down the steps, as Dennis and Pete ran after him.
“I know you have muscles now,” Dennis called, “but that doesn’t make you a superhero!”
James slowed down just as he reached the group of boys and walked up to them. He couldn’t use his powers, of course, but he was hoping he could at least scare them off.
“Leave him alone,” James said in his most authoritative voice.
The older boys looked over in surprise.
“What did you say?” one of them asked; Phil, a burly kid with shaggy black hair that was a year older than James.
James met his eyes. “I said leave him alone. I’ve already called the principal.”
Phil scanned behind James. “That’s funny. I just see two little nerds.”
“I resent that,” Dennis said, breathing heavily as he arrived.
The smaller boy was looking up at James from the ground warily, maybe wondering if his rescuer was about to be pummeled. If there was a fight, James would be in trouble. He couldn’t beat them up, even though it would require as much effort as combing his hair. Thunderbolt would definitely find out, and that would not be good.
“He’ll be here soon enough,” James said. “So how about you get moving?”
“He’s a cocky one, isn’t he?” Phil said to his two friends, who snickered. “Thinks he’s tough because he got captured by the Vindico. Very scary.”
He stepped toward James, holding his gaze.
“I don’t care how famous you are, Renwick. I’ll take you down.”
James really wanted to punch him. He could have thrown him across the parking lot. Or picked him up by his collar and let him dangle for a minute. Instead he just looked at Phil and smiled. “Maybe another time. But for now, just let the kid go.”
There was a tense moment when James thought Phil was going to hit him. But he just looked around, saw that a small crowd had gathered, and then glared at James.
“Watch your back, Renwick,” he snarled. “Let’s go,” he said to his friends.
The three older boys took off, and James helped the younger kid up from the ground.
“Thanks, James,” he said gratefully.
“No problem,” James replied. “See you around.”
The boy started for the bus, and James was left with Dennis and Pete.
“Maybe you are a superhero . . . ” Dennis said thoughtfully as they walked across the parking lot.
* * *
“Pass the potatoes, please,” James’s father said from the head of the table.
James reached out and grabbed the heavy bowl with two outstretched fingers, handing it over without even straining. He saw his mother raise an eyebrow, but he just smiled innocently and kept eating.
“Did you hear the news today?” James’s father asked, shoveling down his mashed potatoes. “A League member is missing.”
James immediately perked up. “Really? Who?”
“Renda. They didn’t release much information, but apparently there are signs that she was abducted from one of their bases. The weird thing is, Thunderbolt said that all the Villains are still locked up in the Perch, so it couldn’t have been them.”
James sat back, disturbed. Was there another Vindico member out there?
“I hope they stay locked up forever,” his mother said quietly, looking at James in concern. “Just the idea of them gives me the creeps.”
“They did get rid of James for a month,” his sister Ally pointed out.
“Ally!” their mother said. “Not funny.”
“It was a little funny,” his other sister Jen whispered to her.
“Are you all packed yet, Jen?” their mother asked. “You only have three days.”
James looked up in alarm. “What do you mean three days? I thought you were going next weekend.”
His mother frowned. “No. This weekend. I told you months ago.”
“But I’m going to the reunion this weekend!” James said.
“No, you’re not,” she replied sharply. “You said the reunion was next week. And you agreed a long time ago to watch your sister this weekend. We can’t bring her, James. We only have two seats for the spelling bee, and I won’t leave Ally alone in that city.”
“She’s twelve!” James said.
“Exactly,” his mother replied. “Too young. Jen will probably get to the finals. We could be in there for hours.”
“No pressure . . . ” Jen muttered.
“I’m ju
st as unhappy about this, if it’s any consolation,” Ally added.
“No, it isn’t. I haven’t seen my friends in four months, and this was my one chance.” James had suddenly lost his appetite. He couldn’t stand to think of his friends having fun without him. He had been especially excited to see Lana. Even though he had come to terms with the fact that she was dating Hayden, he still missed her.
He was just about to ask to be excused when his father wiped his mouth with a napkin. “So bring her,” he said.
“What?” James, Ally, and his mother all asked at the same time.
His father shrugged. “Bring Ally with you. I’ll pay for the ticket.”
James looked at his sister. He didn’t like the idea of bringing her, but it was still better than missing the reunion altogether. Not by much, though.
Ally smiled sweetly. “I would like to meet the others. Especially Hayden. I’ve been reading all about him in the papers.”
“Problem solved,” his father said. “You’ll take your sister.”
“Great,” James muttered. “This should be fun.”
2
LANA SPRINTED DOWN THE LONG HALLWAY, HER LEGS PUMPING BENEATH HER. A large hole had been blown into the wall up ahead and clouds of dust still hung in the air around it.
When she approached the opening, she burst through.
Inside, Avaria and Septer were locked in combat, both wielding deadly weapons. They attacked in complex, weaving patterns, and the sound of clashing steel filled the air. Suddenly, Septer’s hand moved to his belt, and he withdrew a silver knife. Without warning, he turned and threw it straight at Lana.
“Watch out!” Avaria shouted.
Lana jumped to the side, and the gleaming knife passed an inch left of her arm, where it stuck into the wall. Avaria pressed the attack again, but the two superpowered foes were perfectly matched.
Lana knew it was up to her to end the fight. “Get down!” she screamed to Avaria.
Her mentor instantly dropped onto her stomach. Septer tried to dive out of the way, but he was a second too late. Lana pulled the trigger.
The red blast caught him in the chest. She saw his eyes widen in shock, and then he fell backward, lifeless. Smoke rose from the wound.