Super Powereds: Year 3

by Drew Hayes

  “Forgive me, but you appear to be strikingly apathetic about your precarious situation,” Nicholas observed.

  “I don’t want to get kicked out of the Hero Certification Program,” Alice said, turning toward him. “My friends are there, I’ve got a potential future ahead of me, and then there’s family stuff . . . . For a multitude of reasons, I don’t want it to happen. But it is what it is. I have no regrets about what I did tonight. What was my other option, let that psycho have his way with us? Hell fucking no.”

  “You could have run,” Nicholas pointed out.

  “Still would have used my power,” Alice countered.

  “Yes, but he wouldn’t have cared. You could have gotten away to safety and never risked your life or HCP standing.”

  “And all I would have had to do was leave a friend behind,” Alice surmised.

  “I’m not Nick. Your friend, all the memories and thoughts that comprised him, they’re all gone. I am a different person, and you owe me no such obligations.”

  “You know, Nick once convinced me to run away,” Alice said. She turned her eyes back out the window, staring into her memory rather than taking in the scenery. “It was during our freshman year, the labyrinth trial. He got me to leave Mary alone with Chad, convincing me that it was more prudent for us to stay out of her way. He wasn’t wrong, in a way, but I’ve never forgotten that feeling. How gut-wrenchingly awful it was to leave someone I cared about to an uncertain fate, while I scampered away to safety. That feeling, more than any other bit of motivation people have tried giving me, is what drove me to work so hard at getting stronger. I’m not leaving a friend behind, not ever again.”

  Nicholas considered a retort, but then thought better of it. “Sounds like Nick was quite convincing when he needed to be.”

  “He had his moments,” Alice agreed. She let out a soft, awkward cough, and changed the subject. “You’re sure your friend will be okay?”

  “Jerome is nothing if not durable,” Nicholas assured her. “We were fortunate that Eliza was not in the blast, though. Her power doesn’t afford such protections. As for the goons, they never stood a chance. No, the goal of that operation was to make me temporarily vulnerable. I’ll have to step up security measures so that Nathaniel doesn’t catch us unaware again.”

  “After the scare I gave him, I bet he’s already halfway to Vegas.” Alice chuckled.

  Nicholas let out a small laugh too, but inside, he felt far from humorous. It would take more than Alice’s gentle threats to dissuade Nathaniel Evers from a course of action.

  * * *

  Across town, in a luxury hotel room, Nathaniel had just finished putting away his laptop. All his research pointed to a single, inevitable conclusion: Alice was in the HCP. There was no other explanation for her level of power, skill, and combat proficiency. Nathaniel wondered if Nicholas realized he’d bagged one of the rare hidden treasures on campus. It was doubtful: Nicholas rarely cared for anything more than surface attractiveness, which Alice certainly had in spades.

  The orange-eyed young man sat at the desk in his hotel room, moving his long limbs into a triumphant stretch. The bruises from his landing were still sore, but the magic of revenge was already soothing the pain. In the morning, he would expose this girl as having used her powers, and she’d be tossed out. There were many darker, slower revenges Nathaniel might have utilized if given the chance, however, it was more prudent to take the sure-shot against someone of her capabilities.

  He’d just finished stretching when he felt a firm grip settle on both sides of his Adam’s apple. The door had not opened, and he’d heard no footsteps, so whoever was clutching his throat was undoubtedly a Super. He tried to stay calm and not allow memories of the night’s earlier defeat to cloud his judgment.

  “I am not some twenty-one-year-old trainee,” said a voice behind Nathaniel, presumably connected to the hand tightly holding his throat. It was male, spoken in a harsh whisper that would make it difficult to identify. “The second I sense any mental fuckery, see a single sign of an illusion being cast, I will tear your throat out. Gulp once, if you understand.”

  Nathaniel gulped, not that he needed much prompting. Growing up as he and Nicholas had, they were both acclimated to people of less-than-upstanding morals. That included the wetwork personnel, individuals whose entire occupation was predicated on their willingness to do things that had to be done, no matter the circumstances. Nathaniel had sat in with them before, and he noticed that, to a man, each had had the same demeanor when dealing with someone whose life hinged on their next words. They were not cruel, nor angry, nor forceful. They were perfectly calm, as though any of the potential outcomes would suit them fine; all that remained to be seen was which one occurred. Blood or compliance, there was no difference to those calm-voiced men.

  The voice behind him spoke in exactly such a measured, detached tone.

  “I know you’re thinking about paying the girl back for your loss by outing her. You aren’t going to do that. You’re going to forget all about her. Her name, what she looked like, that she had any powers at all. If she gets outed, by anyone, at any time, I will assume you had a hand in it, and I will kill you. Make sure you are clear on that. Alice gets outed, you die. Take all the precautions you like, but that is the sequence of events that will play out. Gulp once, if you understand.”

  Nathaniel gulped.

  “Good boy. Whatever you and Nick have going on, keep the girl out of it. She has far more dangerous friends than you do. If you see her, run. I don’t have to tell you what happens if you test me on this, do I?”

  Nathaniel gulped, this time unintentionally.

  “Glad we understand one another.”

  Then, just like that, the pressure was gone, and Nathaniel was free. He jumped from his seat and scanned the room, unsurprised to find it empty. He took a deep breath, an action rendered somewhat painful by the bruises forming on his throat, and reconsidered his plan of action.

  Alice had warned him she was connected. At the time, Nathaniel had taken it as bluster, but it seemed there was some truth to her words. Better not chance it, at least not until things with Nicholas were settled.

  71.

  Alice rose early Saturday morning, so early, in fact, that she interrupted Mr. Numbers and Mary playing their usual game of chess. By the time she’d gotten in the night before, everyone was sleeping, so there’d been no opportunity to give anyone a run-down of what had transpired on her date. Even a year ago, she might have kept the incident to herself, but after everything with Vince, she’d decided that keeping the higher-ups abreast of what had happened was for the best. She gave Mr. Numbers a complete account of the night’s activities, not bothering to ask Mary to leave, since the telepath would pick it up anyway.

  Mr. Numbers listened attentively, asking questions only when necessary, and otherwise letting Alice tell her account. Once she was done, he walked briskly to the apartment he shared with Mr. Transport, roused his sleeping friend, and escorted Alice to see Dean Blaine. He paused briefly to inform Mary that he remembered exactly where the pieces on the board were, and that he’d know if she moved them around. Mary swore an oath of chess-based morality, and then the two men in suits vanished, taking the still bed-headed blonde girl with them.

  Mary sat alone in the common room, a look of uncertainty on her face. She’d known Nicholas was on campus, and that Alice was intrigued by him, but the events of the evening didn’t quite add up against what she’d heard in his thoughts. With Mr. Numbers occupied, perhaps it was time to play a different kind of game.

  * * *

  “The good news is that you didn’t do anything illegal,” Dean Blaine informed her, once Alice finished giving him a run-down of the previous night’s happenings. He, Mr. Numbers, Mr. Transport, and Alice were all sitting in his living room, an informality he would never have tolerated in circumstances less dire than one of his students being attacked.

  Her eyes widened in surprise; evidently, that possib
ility hadn’t even occurred to her.

  “Fighting criminal Supers is the job of Heroes,” Dean Blaine reminded her. “There are very serious penalties for Supers who try and take up the job without proper certification.”

  “But . . . he was attacking my friend.”

  “I didn’t say the law was perfect, only that it was the law. Here, thankfully, it was rendered moot by your assailant's clearly-stated intent to do you harm. Supers cannot go looking for a fight, however, using their abilities in self-defense has been deemed within their basic rights,” Dean Blaine explained. “So, assuming you’re telling the truth, which we can confirm with a telepath if needed, there’s no reason you’d need to see any charges filed against you. That’s the good news.”

  “The bad news is that if he turns me in, I’m out,” Alice said.

  “Correct,” Dean Blaine confirmed. “While I don’t disagree with your use of power, the secret identity rule is an HCP standard for good reason. It teaches you restraint, how to live and blend in among humans, gives you a clean slate to launch a Hero career from, and most of all, educates you on how to solve problems without resorting to your abilities. What you did, while understandable, does put you at risk. But there is a bright spot to consider.”

  “I’ll take what I can get,” Alice said.

  “The man who learned about your powers did so while attacking you and another citizen,” Dean Blaine reminded her. “Busting a Super in the HCP is not a small thing, and we don’t take anonymous submissions. If he does come forward to expose you, he will be immediately arrested for assault, as well as any other crimes we can tie him to. From what you’ve told me, and what I know about Mr. Campbell’s previous lifestyle, there is a good chance Nathaniel Evers is smart enough to be aware of these consequences and avoid them. It would not surprise me at all if he never spoke of the incident to another soul.”

  “Not turning me in, maybe, but why would he keep the whole thing a secret?”

  It was Mr. Transport who filled in this gap for her. “The male ego, especially at your age, is a fragile thing. Even knowing he was beaten by someone undergoing Hero training, the thing he’ll most likely focus on is losing to a young, blonde girl.”

  “That’s idiotic,” Alice commented.

  “That’s boys, or at least boys in their late teens. Not everyone has their gender biases forcefully beaten out of them by trained professors,” Dean Blaine reminded her. “In this case, it could work to your advantage, so cross your fingers and hope that Mr. Evers is the prideful sort.”

  “There’s almost zero chance he isn’t,” Alice said. “Especially knowing he runs in the same circles as Nicholas.”

  “Ah yes, the other portion of the evening I wanted to speak with you about,” Dean Blaine said, jumping on her words immediately. “While there is no rule forbidding it, I trust you understand the risks you are taking by associating with Nicholas Campbell?”

  “Professor Stone went over them at length with me, and I made sure I was comfortable with them before I ever approached him.”

  “I was not speaking of risks related to the HCP,” Dean Blaine said, correcting her misassumption. “Nick Campbell, for all the strange wonder that he was, no longer exists as we knew him. You are not the first HCP student to try and reconnect with someone who has been forced out of the program. Even in cases less severe than his, it rarely ends well.”

  “Did you ever try to do it?”

  “Once,” Dean Blaine admitted. “A close friend I had during my freshman courses. I tried to reconnect with him, to rebuild a friendship on the ruins of his somewhat scattered memory. It wasn’t the gaps in his recollection that sank the efforts, however. It was the distance in the lives we were living. You don’t realize it, because all of your friends are in the HCP, but your world is tremendously different from a normal human’s. The gap between normality and your life is the hardest thing to overcome, even when dealing with people who used to be part of the HCP.”

  “You make it sound like connecting with any non-HCP students is impossible.”

  “Not impossible,” Dean Blaine said. His mind flashed on a memory of Miriam in her youth, the girl he hadn’t been able to keep with him as the HCP grew more intense. He’d failed to bridge that gap too, but Joshua had accomplished it, making it seem almost effortless. It could be done . . . by some. “Not impossible. Just very hard.”

  “I’d hardly be much of a future Hero if I shied away from a challenge,” Alice pointed out, her eyes set in determination.

  Dean Blaine smiled patiently. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t be.”

  72.

  Chad’s “Welcome to Melbrook” party consisted of a homemade dinner, prepared by Vince and Hershel, and took place in the common room so they could all eat together. The purpose of this was both to demonstrate the benefits of Melbrook living (easily accessible kitchen, comfy places to dine in), as well as letting him know that it was nice to have him there.

  The young blond man took everything with his usual detached politeness, though inwardly, he felt a touch overwhelmed. Chad had lived alone his entire time at Lander, and before that, he’d been the lone child of a single, working mother. Bustling, lively living spaces weren’t a thing he was accustomed to. When he felt that sensation rise up, though, Chad calmly reminded himself that such was exactly the reason he’d chosen to come live here in the first place. He needed to break out of his comfort zone.

  Once the food was eaten and the plates were dumped in the sink for consideration at a later time (in other words, whoever broke down and washed them first), the conversation turned to other options for the evening.

  “I’d say we could go to a club or something, but honestly, even Roy’s a little burned out on that now that he’s working at one,” Hershel said.

  “And if that’s how Roy feels, I doubt we even need to ask Alice and Chad,” Mary surmised. A nod from both confirmed her suspicion.

  “We could watch a movie,” Vince suggested.

  “Not a very social activity,” Hershel countered. The exception was the horror movies Nick had subjected them too, which fostered ample talking, complaining, and, of course, booing. “Is there anything happening on campus tonight?”

  “I don’t think so,” Mary said. “I mean, aside from the nightly dorm parties with poorly smuggled booze.”

  “That’s it!” Alice declared, rising up in her chair. “We should throw a party.”

  “It’s like nine already, and all we have to eat are leftovers,” Vince pointed out.

  “No, not tonight. Sorry, I was just drifting through things to do, and I realized the sophomore slash freshman party is coming up soon, and then I realized this is the first year we won’t get to go. That sort of bummed me out for a moment, until I realized Halloween was coming up, and Mary mentioned parties. We should throw a Halloween party.”

  “Tabling that for the moment, it doesn’t really help us figure out what we’re doing tonight,” Mary said.

  “What’s to figure out? None of us are big drinkers, save for Roy, so since we vetoed watching a movie, we’ll end up having some sort of board game tournament.”

  “You know, that actually does sound kind of a fun,” Hershel said.

  “I have no objections,” Chad said, presumably affirming the idea.

  “I’ll go see what we’ve got,” Vince volunteered. He rose from his seat and ambled over to a small closet, where a moderate selection of games sat on the upper shelf.

  “There, now that we’ve settled that, can we get back to my Halloween party idea?” Alice asked. Mary made a “go ahead” motion with her fingers, and that was all the incentive Alice needed. “Look, our Halloweens have traditionally sucked, right?”

  “Got jumped freshman year,” Vince supplied from the closet, where he was stacking boxes in his arms.

  “Right, then Nick, Mary, and I got brain-jacked last year,” Alice said. “What if, this time, we met Halloween on our terms? We reserve a nice section of tables at one of the
local bars and throw a party for the juniors and seniors in the HCP. Not everyone will come, and even if they do, our numbers are pretty low, so we can easily fit everyone into a medium-sized space.”

  “It sounds to me like, when things take their usual turn, the difference will be that, this time, we’ll be left with the bill for damages,” Mary pointed out. “We do have bad luck on Halloween; no reason to tempt fate by upping the stakes.”

  “Actually, I think I’m with Alice on this one,” Hershel interjected. “All superstition aside, I feel like a party could be a good thing. This year has started off more tense than the others, and it’s only gotten worse. The first day was spent finding out which friends had gotten booted out of our lives; that’s some serious stuff. A party might be a good way to remind everyone about the friends they have left.”

  “I don’t object to the party idea. I’m just wondering why we have to be the ones to throw it,” Mary said. She was somewhat surprised that Hershel had disagreed with her, not because she expected unquestioning boyfriend loyalty, but because he was often the voice of reason alongside her.

  “Because we’re the ones who can,” Chad said. It surprised almost everyone in the room to hear him come down on the side of pro-party. He wasn’t known for cutting loose and getting wild. “We recognized the need for social bonding and stress relief, we have the resources to facilitate it, and we have no reason to suspect any other group in our year fulfills the first two criteria. Therefore, it is our duty to undertake the task.”