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Cabin Fever

Page 4

by Zoe Quinn


  “I promised my little sister I'd make her a change purse,” he told us.

  “I'll go to arts and crafts, too,” said Melanie.“Maybe I can give a little woodburning demonstration. Like I can burn people's names into Popsicle sticks or something.”

  Simon, who was just coming out of the dining hall,

  stopped and smiled. “Burning Popsicle sticks. That's a great idea, Mel. Let everyone know what a fiery talent you've got there.”

  Melanie blushed at Simon's compliment. “Thanks.”

  “What about you, Howie?” I asked, hoping he wouldn't say he was going to try flying.

  “Navigational skills,” he said.

  I relaxed, because that one did sound like the safest choice for a non-Super.

  We wished each other luck and went off to our separate activities.

  After the seminar, I had lunch with Casey and Megan and Melanie (grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup—yum!), then went to meet Howie at the dock. He looked relaxed and happy, so I figured he'd had a good morning.

  “How was your navigation class?” I asked.

  “Amazing!” His eyes were wide, and he couldn't seem to stop smiling. “We learned how to plot longitude and latitude. We went over old-fashioned map-reading skills, because it's always good to be familiar with the basics. We even learned to use the stars as a guide.”

  “Stars?” I looked up into the bright blue sun-drenched sky. “There aren't any stars out now.”

  “They're out in Japan,” he said.

  I gulped. “You went to Japan?”

  Howie nodded. “One of the counselors—his name is Launch—has this incredible rocket-type thingy. It's kind of like the space shuttle, only way more high-tech and lots faster. We flew to Japan in thirteen minutes flat. That's where we learned about navigating by following the stars.”

  “Cool.”

  “I can't believe my grandpa has been doing this sort of thing his whole life! I can't wait to get home and ask him about it! So, how was your workshop?”

  “Excellent,” I said. “The instructor, Puff, has superpowered lungs. She was able to create giant waves in the lake just by swimming out to the middle and blowing on the surface.”

  “Neat.”

  “Now, how about that canoe ride?”

  We put on our life jackets (rules are rules, even at supercamp) and stepped into a canoe. Howie handed me a paddle and we were off. The lake was a little choppy—a residual effect of the waves Puff had created—so we didn't have to paddle too hard. As we let the long, narrow boat rock gently across the water, I told Howie everything. About my twelfth birthday and how I couldn't get my ears pierced. About Grandpa Zack showing me his scrapbooks in the garage and telling me that I had Super genes, even though my parents were Ordinaries. I told him about the Superhero Federation handbook and the exam, and how important it is to keep everything a secret from non-Supers.

  “That's the crazy thing,” I said. “All this time I've been struggling to keep my secret about being superpowered. Now we're trying to keep it on the down-low that you're not super-powered. I know your cabinmates were cool and everything, but I'm not sure how everyone else would react to having a non-super staying here. And once camp is over, it'll be such a relief to have a superbuddy right next door. You and I can talk about this stuff anytime we want, as long as we're careful. Maybe once your powers kick in, we can go on missions together.”

  Howie grinned. “Yeah!”

  “You'll get a supersuit,” I told him. “That part's really cool. Mine's pink and green, and I've got boots and a mask, too.”

  “I bet it's really aerodynamic. And the fabric must be some specially formulated synthetic. Are the boots hydraulic?” Howie was so into technical stuff, I sometimes wondered how he managed to store all of it in his brain. I mean, his head was the same size as mine, so what did he do, use his arms and legs for memory storage?

  “I have no idea, but I've got this really incredible communication device. You'll get one, too, eventually, so you can touch base with the Federation whenever you need to. There's this really cool dispatcher guy who helped me out on my last mission. His name is Thatcher.”

  “Thatcher the Dispatcher?” said Howie.

  I giggled. “Yeah. Pretty funny, huh?”

  “I wonder what my power will be.”

  “Could be anything,” I said. “You'll probably develop some degree of superstrength, since everybody seems to. But beyond that…who knows?”

  “I'd like to be able to disappear,” he said. “Or read people's minds.”

  We sat quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the calming motion of the canoe, the sun on our faces, the light breeze.

  Until we heard the whistle.

  I shaded my eyes and looked back toward the beach. Amanda was standing on the sand, hands on hips, blasting impatiently on her whistle.

  “Training time,” I said.

  Howie and I dipped our paddles into the water and headed back to shore.

  “Thanks for telling me all this, Zoe,” said Howie.

  I noticed that there was a shine in his eyes and I could tell that he just couldn't wait to get his powers.

  I smiled. Who could blame him?

  FOR afternoon training, Simon and Amanda worked us even harder than they had that morning. We started out with basic stretching to warm up, then moved into an aerobic workout. The boys got a little silly and started doing the cancan, which made everyone laugh. Then we got down to business with weight training. Of course, we didn't use actual weights, we used camp stuff—kayaks, picnic tables. Howie was the official cheerleader and did a great job cheering us on. Then the counselors led us a mile or so through the woods to a clearing.

  “You've exercised your muscles,” said Simon in his crisp English accent.“Now it's time to calm your minds. We're going to take this time to sit quietly and meditate on the journey to victory, the personal satisfaction of performing to your utmost and surpassing all others.”

  I had no idea what he meant, but after the workout, the idea of sitting around with my eyes closed and breathing deeply sure sounded good to me.

  Simon showed us how to sit in the lotus position and told us that chanting would help us connect with our inner superhero.

  For a while, we just sat there humming and enjoying the warmth of the day.

  “Oops,” said Megan.

  I opened one eye and saw that she was still in lotus position, but she was hovering ten feet in the air. Sam opened his eyes and started cracking up.

  Megan lowered herself back to the grass, drifting downward as gently as a snowflake. “I like meditating,” she said.

  “Me too,” said Dave. “Being super puts a lot of pressure on a kid. It's nice to just sit and zone out.”

  Casey frowned. “I'd like it a whole lot better if I didn't keep picking up conversations taking place back at camp. I keep tuning in to the Fearless cabin.”

  “I'm not surprised,” said Melanie. “Those girls are always yakking about something.”

  “What are they saying?” I asked. Remembering that Casey had said she only used her powers in times of dire need, I added, “It could be about the competition!”

  Casey pushed her hair behind her ear and got a look of concentration on her face. We waited.

  “They're talking about…about…” She shot a glance at Zander. “About you!”

  Zander looked surprised and embarrassed. “Me?”

  Casey nodded and kept listening. After a while, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, brother.”

  “What are they saying?” asked Dave.

  “They're saying,” Casey reported, “that Zander is the coolest boy at Camp Courageous and that he's majorly hunk-a-licious, and they're daring each other to ask him for his communication-device call digits.”

  “You're supposed to be meditating,” Simon reminded us from the other side of the circle. “Reflecting on your goals, celebrating your own powerfulness, recalling the joy of individual greatness…”
<
br />   “Actually,” said Amanda, “this is better. They're learning about each other instead, which is very bonding. It's a great team-building exercise.” She turned to Sam. “Tell us a little more about your power.”

  “It's superstrength, but off the charts, basically. I've been tested by the Superhero Federation and found to possess ten times the strength of any adult hero on record. I'd demonstrate for you,” he said apologetically,“but I'm on restricted usage. I can only use my power to its full extent in an emergency.”

  “So how strong are you?” Dave asked.

  “Let's put it this way,” said Sam. “If the Leaning Tower of Pisa ever does topple over, I'll be the one holding it up until they can secure it again.”

  “Wow,” said Dave. “That's strong.” He turned to Melanie and gave her a flirty look. “It must be cool being able to light fires with your eyes.”

  “She sure lit his fire,” Zander whispered to me. I giggled.

  “It is,” said Mel.“In fact, you know the torch they use to kick off the Courageous Cup contest?” She smiled broadly. “Battlin' Bertram has asked me to light it!”

  “Mel, that rocks!” cried Casey.

  “You go, girl,” said Sam, clapping.

  We all congratulated her on the honor of being chosen to light the Courageous Cup flame, and I could tell Amanda was pleased with our show of support. The way she was watching us hang out was a little unnerving, but if getting to know my new friends went under the heading “team building” as far as Amanda was concerned, that was okay with me.

  “I have an idea,” said Simon. He seemed a little testy, as if he was insulted that we'd blown off his meditation idea. “Let's put our two speedsters to a real test.” He stood up and motioned for Zander and me to join him at the edge of the clearing. “How about a race?”

  Sam began punching a fist in the air, chanting, “Race, race, race…”

  Zander was up on his feet in a flash.

  “I don't know about this,” said Amanda.

  Neither did I. I'd never raced anyone since I'd become super, and I wasn't exactly thrilled about going up against the other fastest kid on the planet. Not that I'd ever been a sore loser, but I didn't want to make myself look bad.

  Simon raised his eyebrows at Amanda. “I thought you were the competitive sort.”

  “I am,” said Amanda. “When it comes to beating the other teams. But Zander and Zoe are teammates, not opponents.”

  Simon waved off her concern. “You'll run to camp,” he suggested, pointing into the dense trees and scraggly underbrush surrounding our grassy clearing. “Straight there and back—two miles, give or take.”

  “I can do that in ten seconds,” Zander boasted.

  I gave him a challenging smile. “Then I guess I'll just have to do it in nine.”

  “Okay, speedsters,” said Simon. “You'll find Bertram's car in the parking lot, a red luxury sedan. That can be your landmark, so you know you've gone the same distance. Run through the woods and down the main path of camp to the parking lot, and touch the car. Then turn around and run back the same way. Ready? On your mark, get set…”

  His whistle blared and we were off, moving almost as quickly as light.

  It was a thrilling feeling, running at my full, amazing speed with Zander right there, pumping along beside me. In the shadows of the woods, we hopped over fallen trees and ducked low branches, all without missing a step. I couldn't see Zander—he was a shimmer of motion—but I could feel him there. When camp was in sight, we headed for the winding dirt footpath and zoomed toward our destination. The shapes of cabins and the colors of the campground whizzed past in a woodsy blur.

  The parking lot was in my sight in no time; Bertram's red car shone in the sun. Zander and I were heading for it shoulder to shoulder. I was having so much fun sharing this super experience with Zander, but there was no doubt about it—I wanted to win!

  “No way are you going to beat me,” Zander cried, turning on more power as we closed in on the car.

  The swell of energy that exploded from his body when he surged ahead of me was so strong that it actually knocked me over. I was pushed sideways by the invisible force, and I lost my footing and hit the ground. I was still moving at supervelocity, and the momentum of my own speed sent me rolling across the gravel lot, bumping my head, twisting my ankle, and scraping my bare knees before I skidded to a stop.

  Zander was still running. For a moment, I didn't think he knew I'd fallen, but when he reached the bumper of Bertram's car, he paused and looked at me sprawled on the ground. Our eyes met and again I felt that jolt, that spark that said we were somehow connected.

  I was sure he would come over and make sure I was okay.

  But he turned away from the car and kept running.

  I caught up to him halfway through the woods. My knees could have used some Band-Aids, but my ankle was okay, though it had hurt for the first few strides. Still, I was so angry with Zander for leaving me behind that breaking both legs wouldn't have stopped me from chasing him at top superspeed.

  “Hey!” I shouted through the windy rush of our combined speed.

  I brought my hand down on his shoulder and yanked hard until we came to a stop, our heels digging deep ruts in the ground.

  “What's wrong with you?” I demanded.“You knock me over and then just leave me there? You don't even stop to ask if I'm okay? What do you call that?”

  “I call it a race,” he snapped.

  I glared at him. “A friendly race.”

  “No such thing.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Zander!”

  Suddenly, the bluster went out of him. “I'm sorry,” he

  said, and I could tell he meant it. “You're right. I should have stopped to help you. But all I could think about was winning.”

  “It's okay,” I said. “I guess in all the excitement you kind of lost your head. I just don't see why it would be so important to you to win some silly little race—I mean, this isn't the cup contest.”

  “I know. But in my family, winning is everything. Even if it is just a silly little race, I have to win.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says…” He looked away. “My grandfather.”

  That's when I remembered what I'd been thinking that morning. “Zander, tell me about your family. The Super side, that is.”

  He thought for a moment. “Well, I don't know much about any of my other Super relatives except that my mom and her father, my grandpa Zeb, are both Supers.”

  I tried to remember the family tree I'd seen in my grandpa Zack's scrapbook. My great-grandmother Zelda had had an uncle, Zeke, who was an Ordinary. But Zeke's grandson was super…and his name was Zeb.

  Zack and Zeb were first cousins.

  Which meant that Zack's granddaughter and Zeb's grandson were cousins, too.

  I smiled at Zander.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “What?”

  “I think we should walk back to the clearing, Zander. There's something I have to tell you.”

  “SO we're cousins?” said Zander.

  “Yup. Distant cousins, but still cousins.”

  We were walking slowly back to the clearing through the woods; I'd told him everything I learned from the family tree in Grandpa's album.

  “I wonder why no one ever told me about you,” he said, pushing aside a branch for me, then ducking under it himself. “Or your grandpa.”

  “I do, too,” I said. “When I found out about you, I was pretty psyched. I meant to ask my grandpa, but then there was this whole big mess with Electra Allbright and I guess I forgot.”

  “Electra Allbright?” said Zander.“The comic-book author?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But that's a whole other story! I'll check with my grandpa tonight and see if I can find out why you and I have never met.”

  When we returned to the clearing, everyone seemed confused.

  “For two kids with superspeed, you sure are a couple of slowpokes,” joked Sam. “What happe
ned to being back in ten seconds?”

  “Yeah,” said Dave. “It took you ten minutes.”

  “So nobody won?” asked Megan.

  I laughed. “I guess you can say we tied.”

  “Yeah,” said Dave. “For last place.”

  “We should be heading back to camp,” said Simon. His lips were pursed like he'd been sucking a lemon; he was obviously disappointed we hadn't taken the race more seriously. I was beginning to wonder if we'd ended up with the two most competitive counselors on the planet—and what they might do to us if we didn't win the Courageous Cup.

  “Too bad Howie doesn't have a power yet,” said Casey. I noticed she was staring at him with a dreamy look in her eyes. “I bet when he gets one, it'll be the coolest.”

  “I don't mind, really,” said Howie. “It'll happen when it happens. For now, I'm just glad to have such terrific teammates.”

  “That's the spirit, Howie,” said Amanda. “It's what the Courageous Cup is all about. Something all heroes need to remember. Ego can be a real problem for a superhero. Have you guys ever heard the story of the Sweep?”

  Simon stepped forward, cutting her off.“I don't think we have time for a story, Amanda,” he said. “We've got to get moving. More work to do back at camp, strategies to plan, you know.”

  “Amanda can tell us the story on the hike back,” Dave suggested. “This sounds interesting.”

  “Good idea,” said Amanda.

  As the team fell in line to make our way back to camp, she began. “Not long ago, the Sweep was one of the most celebrated young heroes of his generation. He didn't develop his powers until late—around his fourteenth birthday—but when they showed themselves, no one could believe it. Sweep was one of those rare heroes who only come along once in an eon…. He possessed every single power there was. Made a clean sweep, if you will. That was how he got his name.”

  “Every power?” I echoed, amazed.

  “Well, almost every power. He could freeze things with his breath and shrink things by shooting beams from his eyes, and he could hold his breath for hours at a time. He was a flyer, like Megan, and he had superstrength in the extreme, just like Sam. He could melt things like Mel, he had superhearing like Casey, and he could stretch like Dave. The only power he didn't have was superspeed. And boy, did that make him mad.”

 

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