Super Powereds: Year 2

by Drew Hayes

  Thomas was walking toward Roy, ignoring any challenges the terrain might have presented to slow him down. It would be impossible to say what expression was draped across his face, since it, along with the rest of his body, was hidden beneath the orange energy that enveloped his entire form. It moved with him, surrounding and protecting the body beneath. Roy suspected he might be able to punch through it, but that would require getting up close and personal, a task at which he had thus far been highly unsuccessful.

  Roy sprinted forward, closing the gap between him and Thomas as quickly as possible. He made it to within ten feet before a beam of energy leapt forth from Thomas’s hand and enveloped his legs. The taller boy was swept off his feet and chunked into another poor tree, which exploded on impact. A quick hop to his feet and Roy was running again. They’d been playing this game for some time now, and it didn’t seem like it would end any time soon. Still, Roy hadn’t quite lost hope yet. The first time he’d only been able to get within fifteen feet of Thomas.

  He was getting closer. Now he just had to close the gap before Thomas found a way to put him down for good.

  * * *

  Alex grabbed the biggest thing near him - in this case a smoldering hunk of tree from Jill’s last missed shot - and telekinetically tossed it in Selena’s direction. The throw was wild; however, it landed near enough that she had to scramble to stay clear. That created a break in her song, which gave Alex a much needed moment of respite.

  Sweat poured down his face and the beginnings of what would ultimately culminate in a hellacious headache were starting to manifest. A year ago he wouldn’t have even been in this good of shape. Mary always envied Alex’s level of control, but at the moment he was more thankful for his ability to multitask. Fending off Selena’s song and Jill’s blasters simultaneously was taking every bit of focus he could muster. He was managing not to go down; however, using all his resources for defense left him also no opportunity to counterattack. If he didn’t think of something soon then it was just a matter of running down the clock to his inevitable defeat.

  Jill fired off another few rounds, two of which Alex dodged and the other he deflected. Without his telepathy he might have been hosed: fighting back all the sound around him meant he didn’t get any audible warnings of her movements. Only keeping tabs on her mind was giving him notice to defend. Even that strategy had a downside, because in this small of an area, listening to her mind meant feeling Selena’s as well, something he’d been trying very hard not to do since their breakup.

  There was no softness in that head of hers, no inclination to go easy on him in this battle for the sake of old emotions. Selena was a sophomore in the HCP; she never would have gotten this far if she couldn’t divorce duty from sentiment. There wasn’t any anger, either, something he’d honestly expected, despite the reason for breaking up. It wouldn’t have been rational, but in Alex’s experience, people very rarely were when the heart was involved. No, none of that was bouncing around in Selena’s mind, likely because there was no room for it. Instead, her head was overflowing with love and regret.

  He could feel it all: the depth of love she’d been surprised to find she had for him, the fear at something so serious so soon, the hasty rebellion to try and distance herself through a stupid drunken action, and the loss she’d been gripped with upon realizing what she’d destroyed. In a different time, in a different place, it might have motivated him to have a cup of coffee with her, to see if there was anything left for them to put back together. Unfortunately for both of them, this was not that time or that place. All Alex could feel at that moment was a wish that she would bottle her shit up so he could concentrate.

  A flurry of excitement overtook Jill as she took aim for another volley. This time there were only two shots. One was far enough away to sidestep; the other would have to be deflected. He was about to grip it when he realized that only the first shot had been energy; the one heading toward him was a metal canister the size of half a soda can. Before Alex was able to react, the small canister exploded and his entire world went white.

  It took a moment to realize he wasn’t burned or harmed, but from the searing sensation in his eyeballs, it felt like he had been.

  “Flash grenade Will designed. You should regain vision in five to ten minutes,” Jill informed him helpfully.

  Alex had just enough time to wonder how he was able to hear her then realized that his concentration had been disintegrated, along with his vision, before Selena’s song took hold. He slumped to the ground wordlessly.

  Selena ceased her singing and walked over to him. She took off his jacket, singed in a few places for shots Jill nearly landed, and folded it into a thick square. Delicately lifting his head, she tucked the makeshift pillow under his cranium before turning back to her teammate.

  Julia came up to them during this time, one of many clones scattered with the teams. She had to keep away from the actual battle, since if she was seriously hurt she would dissipate and they would lose their connection to the rest of the team.

  “Let’s go find another one,” Selena said, her face largely expressionless.

  Jill nodded her agreement, and the three set off for their next battle.

  177.

  “You orange glowing bastard!” Roy screamed as he went sailing through the air yet again. He’d lost count of his flights somewhere in the teens, not because it was too hard to keep up, but because there was no point. Each had thought one of them would break, run out of steam, or come up with a new strategy to end things. As it was, they were dancing the same tango they’d been shimmying since they started.

  Thomas’s own sentiment wasn’t much more positive. By his assessments of Roy’s strength, Thomas should have prevailed by now, but the taller young man had gotten much stronger in a short time. When things were over, Thomas would ask him how he’d pulled that off. For the moment, he was simply trying to figure out a way to finish this pointless battle. The problem was that Roy had the advantage in his endless energy. Thomas was beginning to feel the first signs of fatigue, signs he knew his opponent would never suffer at this pace. He still had a lot of gas left in the tank, but that wouldn’t matter if he didn’t find a way to hurt Roy. At this pace the most he could hope for was a clean escape.

  Thomas blinked beneath his orange armor as the realization hit him. Why not escape? This test wasn’t predicated on winning individual fights, only on who got the most points through orbs. He wasn’t helping his team right now; in fact, he was wasting himself as a resource. The beginnings of suspicion began to tickle in his brain. This was probably part of the exam: not only winning when it was possible, but also walking away when it wasn’t. It was what the second match had been meant to teach them. The more he thought about it, the more certain Thomas grew.

  A snapping of branches alerted Thomas that Roy was charging again. He enveloped his opponent’s legs in energy, just as he had countless times before. This time was different. Instead of chunking Roy at the nearest object, Thomas put more power into the throw and aimed higher. He cast Roy with all of his might, sending him sailing over the tree line far from their current position. By the time Roy found his way back, Thomas would be long gone.

  Distantly, almost imperceptibly, Roy’s voice could be heard screaming obscenities as he flew through the air.

  * * *

  “Results are in,” Mary whispered. She was reasonably certain she and Nick were alone, but the way things were going, she wasn’t up for taking any risks. “One win, two losses, and a draw.”

  “How did we get a draw? Wait, never mind, let me guess. Thomas and Roy?”

  “Nailed it. Thomas realized he was wasting his time, so he headed off to find a better fight. Roy is less than thrilled.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Anyway, Alex lost, so did Camille and Vince. Alice, thankfully, pulled her match off rather impressively,” Mary reported.

  In spite of the bad news, Nick allowed himself a small smile at news of Alice’
s victory. The girl deserved a win, and putting one up against an opponent like Violet was no small matter. As honest as his joy was, it was equally brief. Immediately his brain began assessing the news of the losses and adjusting his plan.

  “How are they holding up?”

  “Alex is knocked out, Camille is largely unhurt but stuck under a tree branch. Vince is pinned, too, but he’s been torn up pretty bad.”

  “Shane separated and trapped them so Camille couldn’t heal Vince. Smart guy. I hate other smart guys.”

  “Should we go help them?”

  Nick shook his head. He’d suspected this might happen, not just when he heard they were facing Shane, but from the very beginning. Vince had gotten so much stronger than he’d been even a few months ago, but it wasn’t as if he were going up against mere humans. Everyone else was growing too, getting better at what they did. Vince might one day be the strongest of them all; however, that day wasn’t this one. And if he didn’t find a way to showcase Vince’s real potential then that day might very well never come. The only guidance he had was Globe’s advice, about the fact that they were all underestimating Vince’s real power and how kindness was both the cage and the key. Understanding it hadn’t been difficult, but discerning a good way to utilize it had left Nick with precious few options.

  “Okay, Mary, here’s the plan. First things first, I’m calling in the twenty-four hours of non-mental listening you owe me.”

  “What?”

  “Freshman year, I did you a favor by taking Alice shopping, and that was my price. I’m calling it in, effective immediately. Do not, under any circumstances, listen to my thoughts for the rest of this day.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “You can ask anything, you just won’t get answers. Next, I need you to tell me where Rich is, currently.” As he spoke, Nick reached up and removed his sunglasses. He carefully applied pressure to one of the lenses until it snapped, leaving a slightly jagged edge.

  “About fifteen minutes to our east,” Mary replied, pointing despite the fact that she was certain Nick knew the direction in question.

  “Perfect. Now, keep hunting our invisible girl, but if you haven’t found her in thirty minutes then refocus on making sure Alex and Alice get to the deposit site before the timer ends. Stay out of sight until I get there.” Nick took the jagged edge of plastic and used it to cut a section of his uniform’s coat, then ripped along the tear until he had a long, if ragged, piece of grey cloth.

  “They’ll make you pay for that, you know,” Mary pointed out, having honestly no idea what else to say to his strange behavior.

  “I’m aware of the rules.”

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t go help Vince and Camille instead of hunting Britney? What if they don’t get free in time?”

  “Vince will get them free,” Nick replied simply. “Trust me.”

  “I guess at this point I pretty much have to.”

  “And words cannot say how much I appreciate it.” Nick was finished making his cloth strip, so he tucked it into his right pocket. He put the jagged plastic in his left and let the remains fall to the ground. He didn’t need them any longer.

  Nick looked at Mary; she was staring up at him with a perplexed annoyance. She was true to her word: if she’d been listening to his thoughts, she would have worn a very different expression. Good; he’d have hated for her to get caught up in this. When the dust settled she was going to need to be able to honestly say she had no idea what he was planning. Ignorance was the only protection he could give her.

  “So, while I’m doing all this running around, what are you going to do?”

  “Very simple, my dear Captain,” Nick replied. “I’m going to build a pyre.”

  178.

  Vince lost consciousness for a few minutes after Shane left. It might have been the blood loss, though Shane had been careful not to leave wounds that risked bleeding out. It might have been the sizable branch weighing on his torso, but it was not so heavy as to leave him unable to breathe. It might have even been shame. After all that training, all that discussion and planning and bravado, he’d still been trounced like he was nothing. He was supposed to be a force that his team could rely on. Instead it seemed like he spent most of time lying on the ground, defeated.

  “Are you all right?” Camille asked, raising her voice slightly to be heard. It risked them being discovered, but that didn’t matter much at the moment. It didn’t make any student look more skilled to beat up defeated opponents. No, the worst they could suffer upon discovery was humiliation, and that was low on her list of current concerns.

  “I’m stuck, but I think I’ve stopped bleeding,” Vince answered. There was no more sensation of warm, sticky blood tickling down his appendages. The muscles were still cut; nothing short of Camille was going to fix that.

  “Don’t move too much, you don’t want to reopen your cuts. I’ll heal you as soon as this is over and we get free.”

  And there it was. They had to sit and wait; they were out of the match. Camille was too weak to lift her branch, and even if Vince had been at full strength, he doubted he could have budged his. He tested his appendages and found them largely unresponsive. He could move them, but with the severed tendons it was painful and hard to direct them. Lifting was out of the question; the only thing he could get to move in even a semblance of control was his left arm. He flopped it against the branch and felt the rough bark press against his palm.

  “Damn it, what did I just tell you?”

  “Sorry, I... I think I have an idea.” He couldn’t push it away, and using a kinetic blast was too dangerous. Aiming was impossible, so the branch might easily land on Camille. He did have another option. One that would be uncomfortable, one that was risky, one that was certain to hurt. Still, it would get him a chance to get back in the game. He’d promised Nick the team could count on him. And... to be perfectly honest, he knew that if he failed here, it was over. No third year, no hopes of being a Hero. Once he was ousted, they would never let the son of Globe back in. He either got back up, or he may as well go back to sleep and accept these two years for the dream they were.

  “Camille, you might want to look away.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  But Vince had already done it. Fire burst forth from his left hand, a surge of flame cascading across the branch’s surface. His own flame didn’t hurt him as it exited, but as the branch began to burn in earnest, he noticed the temperature rising. Immediately he began to sweat, the heat so close and so forceful that it was all he could do not to pull it back. Not yet.

  “Vince!”

  He could hear the panic in Camille’s voice; he wished she’d listened to him and looked away. His uniform was on fire, the flames were beginning to lick against his skin. Vince had imagined all the severed muscles would restrict his ability to feel pain. Either he was wrong, or the pain was so great it didn’t matter. He set his jaw and resisted the urge to scream. This had to be hard enough for his teammate to watch; he wouldn’t let her know how badly he was hurting. He’d been burned before; he knew what was still in store for him.

  The smoke was getting overpowering; it was growing steadily harder to breath. Good. Only a little bit longer. He needed to be certain the tree was burning on its own. He couldn’t hear Camille’s words anymore, but he could definitely hear her yelling at him. The fire was too loud, or he was too close. God he wished she’d looked away. Vince glanced down and realized that his left hand was turning charred and black; the proximity to the fire had burned away all the nerves before he’d noticed it. His vision was getting blurry. Time was up, now or never. He could only pray it had been long enough.

  Vince absorbed the fire in an instant, the branch dissolving into ash as he took both its current energy and all the energy it would have generated as it burned. His jacket was taken too. Mercifully his pants hadn’t caught fire in time to be absorbed. He saw that his torso was sooty and black. At least he hoped that was soot.

&
nbsp; “What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?” Camille wasn’t yelling anymore; from the rasp in her voice it sounded like she’d screamed herself horse. Her cheeks were wet, glistening with tears that still flowed freely from her eyes. Poor girl. Vince would apologize afterward. He couldn’t respond yet; he needed all his focus for the last part.

  Carefully he rolled onto his side, aiming as best he could. He pressed his ruined hand onto the charred ground that had once been grass. He owed a thank you to Nick for forcing him to gain some semblance of control of this new aspect to his powers, and to Roy for charging him up. With a grunt of effort he blasted the solid ground with kinetic energy, sending him hurtling across the grass and leaving a trail of partially cooked flesh where it scraped against him. He nearly passed out again, this time unquestionably from pain, but he fought back the sensation of slumber and rolled himself over. He was close to Camille now, almost in arm’s reach. With one last burst of effort, Vince rolled over once, twice, three more times. The third was the last he had in him: as his vision turned skyward the screaming pain finally overwhelmed his willpower and he fell into the blissful darkness.

  “You fucking idiot.” A pair of dainty hands fell on his forehead, the only part of him she could reach. Camille choked back a sob as she looked at him. He was a wreck; he was destroyed. He’d gotten to her at the cost of god only knew how much pain. She began healing the burns first, watching his skin turn back to its normal pink hue. Then she healed the muscles and finally the cuts Shane had left on his body.