by Andy Briggs
“Mornin’, Professor,” growled Scuffer as Big Tony pinned Pete against the wall outside the school. “Bet you were dying to come back to school.”
Big Tony sniggered. “Yeah, you cry when it’s the holidays, don’t ya?” His voice changed into a high-pitched mockery of Pete: “Oh, no … weeks away from class! How will I learn? I’m so sad.”
“Leave me alone!” whimpered Pete.
“Or what?”
“You’ll see!”
The response didn’t sound like the threat that he’d hoped it would. The bullies jeered at him.
“Careful, Tony,” grunted Knuckles. “He’s a black belt in origami!”
“Think we won’t bother you’ cause we let you go last time? Well, we had bigger things to think about than a bug like you!” Scuffer taunted.
A familiar voice suddenly called out. “Let him go, doofus!”
They all turned to see Toby. The hood of his coat was up, giving him the vague air of a superhero and for a second Pete thought Toby must have been on the Web site to download some powers—he’d never stood up to these guys before.
Big Tony didn’t release his grip on Pete. Instead, wicked grins spread across the faces of the gang as it detected new prey.
“Or what?” said Knuckles, cracking his own knuckles—a trademark he had developed to distract from his reedy voice. “What could you possibly do to us?”
Toby stood his ground, but he felt his legs tremble. The rain was pouring down, and it seeped through his coat. Knuckles and Scuffer stepped forward menacingly. Big Tony made no attempt to release Pete.
Toby stood firm. “Let. Him. Go.”
Scuffer hesitated as he walked forward. His eye caught movement across the schoolyard.
“Here’s the Man,” said Scuffer.
They beckoned to the leader of their pack. Jake Hunter was easily identified by his shock of spiky blond hair. Lorna had once mentioned that she thought he was cute, a comment that annoyed Toby. He was a callous thug, and had no right to be “cute.”
“Yo! Hunter!” Scuffer shouted. The grin that crossed his face dropped when Hunter threw a halfhearted wave and continued on his course—ignoring his crew.
“Told ya he was actin’ weird,” muttered Scuffer to his cohorts.
“Fallen out of favor?” Toby goaded.
Scuffer snarled at him. “Shut up. Must be somethin’ on his mind. Come on, guys. Let the geeks go.”
Big Tony released Pete, and the gang followed Scuffer across the yard—all of them ignoring Toby. Toby sagged with relief, thankful they hadn’t tried to pick a fight. He crossed over to Pete and helped him pick up his books.
“Thanks,” said Pete, feeling a little embarrassed.
“What are friends for?” said Toby with a half-smile.
Pete grinned. As usual their argument was now officially a thing of the past. “Are you … er … you know …?” He looked around to make sure nobody was in earshot. Scuffer and his imbecile friends had disappeared around a corner. “Powered up?”
Toby shook his head. “No. But I couldn’t let them do that to you, could I? We’re a superhero team, remember?”
“I don’t feel like one right now,” said Pete as he fastened the straps on his bag. Something occurred to him. “What would you have done if they had started a fight?”
“I probably would have been eating hospital food with you!”
Torrential rain at lunchtime had forced everybody inside, and with nothing much to do, a crazy-sounding story soon spread that Jake Hunter had miraculously dragged a teacher out of a burning classroom on the last day before the holidays.
Toby whispered to Pete that, if it was true, perhaps Hunter had been downloading the superpowers too? Pete didn’t relish that thought, and brushed it aside. He very much doubted Hunter would have done anything so heroic as rescuing a teacher—in fact, he probably started the fire. But the story was fast becoming a school legend, and the shell of the woodwork classroom was evidence that something disastrous had happened.
The final bell sounded like an angel singing. Toby and Pete ran from the school into the heavy downpour outside, simply glad to be free.
Walking back home, Toby suggested that Pete should come with him to see if the coast was clear so they could try and visit the Web site. Their first steps away from school were filled with trepidation, worried that they might run into Hunter’s gang. After a mile of peering over their shoulders, they finally stopped looking and Pete started talking about the Web site.
“Where do you think that Web site comes from?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Lorna and I were wondering about that.”
“Somebody had to make it and put on the superpowers.”
“Yeah … so they must have had them in the first place if they’re giving them away.”
Pete nodded; that made sense. “How many powers do you reckon there are?”
“I saw at least twenty on there. And we didn’t really scroll down the page.”
“That’s mind-bending.” He noticed Toby was staring at the ground with a troubled expression. “What’s up?” “I was just thinking about Doc Tempest.”
“Yeah, that head! Maybe he has a disease or something. I hope it’s not contagious. Glasses are bad enough, but I’d never make it through school with a head like that.”
“He said something about revenge. What do you think he meant by that?”
Pete waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. He was just mouthing off. People say anything when they’re angry. Look at my parents.”
They were several streets away from Toby’s house when it became apparent that Lorna and Emily had also had the same idea about checking the Web site. They were just ahead, heads bowed against the rain and sharing a vivid red umbrella.
“Hey, guys, wait up!”
Pete overheard them finishing a conversation about boys. Emily flashed a smile at Pete but didn’t say anything. Pete glanced away quickly, thankful Toby hadn’t noticed his cheeks blushing.
“You think Mom won’t be home?” asked Toby.
“You’re thinking it too,” Lorna replied knowingly.
“She’s working at home today but was complaining that she had to go to the store on top of everything else. And shopping takes her ages. I just hope we can try it out.”
“What’s that?” Emily suddenly asked. She was staring ahead, over the rooftops. Toby and Pete followed her gaze. Pete swapped a look with Toby and circled his finger around his ear, a signal that she was crazy.
“They’re clouds, Em.”
Emily tutted and grabbed Pete’s jaw with her hand, twisting his face to the sky once more.
“No, you idiot—that!”
They all noticed it at the same time. A swirling cone of dark puffy cloud was forming a funnel in the sky. The tip of the funnel twitched like a cat’s tail before making contact with the ground beyond the line of houses. As soon as it touched land, the cloud funnel grew denser as the twister increased in ferocity.
“A tornado!” cried Toby.
Now they could hear the tornado rumbling, like a deep jet engine. Debris spiraled into the tornado as it was sucked from the ground.
“But we don’t get tornadoes here,” said Pete, not tearing his gaze away from the awesome force of nature. “Bet it’s about half a mile away. It must be ripping up everything in its path!”
Lorna suddenly ran forward as the tornado swayed drunkenly to one side. Toby shouted after her.
“Lorn?”
She stopped and spun round, tears in her eyes. “Our house, Tobe! It’s heading toward our house!”
Lorna fought for breath as she reached the top of her street. The rest of the kids all skidded to a halt to watch the monstrous spectacle. The tornado was the width of the road and moving at top speed as it smashed through an empty house directly opposite their own. Windows shattered from the change of pressure within the building, and seconds later the front of the house exploded in a shower of masonry a
nd wood. The twister ripped across the beautifully arranged garden, turning the lawn into mud. The suction from the tornado was fierce, even pulling the rain toward it.
“Wow!” shouted Toby, both thrilled and terrified.
There was no doubt about it; the tornado was heading straight for their home. It struck a van, sucking it up like a toy as it dashed across the road toward his house—straight for the black car parked in the driveway.
“Oh God! What if Mom is home?” shrieked Lorna in a high-pitched scream that was barely audible over the heavy bass roar of the tornado. They all took a few halting steps forward, then stopped. What could they do? Without superpowers they would be smashed like bugs.
Lorna felt Toby’s hands grip her shoulder—they both watched as the tornado glanced the side of the car, tossing it away. It took half a second before they all realized the car was zooming in their direction, spinning like a coin.
“Run!” shouted Emily.
They scattered in four different directions as the car smashed down on the road, the roof crunching flat. The car skidded past them in a trail of sparks. But they were all drawn back to the tornado.
KER-SMASH! The tornado struck the front of the house like a sledgehammer. Roof slates shot in all directions, and somewhere in the chaos Toby swore he could see the front door fold in two.
The twister stopped moving and spun on the spot, halfway in their home—but not advancing to demolish the rest. They heard a scream from inside the house.
It was their mother.
Toby sprinted forward, arms pumping. He didn’t know what he could do, but he knew he couldn’t just stand and watch as his mother …
Once again he skidded to a halt. Something was descending in the center of the tornado. The funnel was thick with swirling debris that made it difficult to see clearly, but the object resembled a circular metal platform … a glider-disc!
Toby was openmouthed when he saw the distinctive figure standing on the platform. Doc Tempest. Inside the tornado the air was still and calm, so Tempest’s cape hung limp. His face was a mask of delight and focused solely on Sarah Wilkinson, lying struggling on the floor in the destroyed hallway of her house, her legs pinned by unrecognizable rubble.
Lorna, Pete, and Emily caught up with Toby in time to see Tempest use one hand to push away the debris holding their mother—and then scoop her off the floor with the other. Sarah kicked and screamed as she was flung over his shoulder, and the platform began to rise back up the tornado funnel.
“MOM!” shouted Toby.
He spurred forward and was instantly struggling against the savage winds. Leaning forward, almost at forty-five degrees, he pushed onward. His fingers gripped a metal grille on the undercarriage of Tempest’s glider-disc and he was yanked from his feet, his body flailing wildly.
“Mom! Hold on! We’ll save you!”
Tempest peered down, and snarled. “This is what you get for meddling! She’s my hostage now!”
“We’ve got no powers! Tempest’ll kill him!” screamed Lorna. She ran for her brother, struggling free of Emily’s attempts to hold her back. The wind slapped Lorna’s face hard when she hit the tornado wall and her feet slid across the uneven ground.
Toby felt Lorna’s hand grip his foot as he was pulled higher. His heart pounding, he glanced down to see Lorna precariously swinging beneath him. She opened her mouth to yell something—but didn’t see a broken piece of furniture, caught in the tornado, whirl around and slam into her.
Toby stretched his free hand toward her. His fingers raked across her sleeve—but she lost her grip and was flung aside by the force of the tornado, as though shot from a sling. She flew across what was left of the office and smashed into the wall.
Toby secured his other hand on the glider and looked defiantly at Tempest. “Let her go!”
“You brats have ruined one set of plans! Now I’ve got some insurance that you don’t do it again! If you do you’ll never see her alive!” His peculiar, unrecognizable accent made the words even more threatening. Then something occurred to him. “What’s the matter? No superpowers? Ha! Then it’s time to die!”
Tempest cackled as a stream of ice shot from his finger. It narrowly missed Toby’s hand, but the cold seeping through the metal was so intense he felt his blood run cold; his fingers numbed and he was forced to let go.
Toby dropped, and then was yanked sideways by the whirlwind. The gale hurled him across the backyard.
“Say good-bye to your mommy, fake little heroes!” roared Tempest. He was almost out of sight by now. “And don’t forget to clean your rooms!”
With a mighty blast of wind, the twister blew itself into nothingness—the sudden shift in pressure knocked Emily and Pete to the ground. A hail of rubble that had been caught in the tornado rained down, forcing them to shield their heads as it bounced around.
Emily was first on her feet and ran to Lorna, who was slumped against the wall, groaning.
“Lorn, you okay?”
To Emily’s relief Lorna’s eyes flicked open and she nodded.
“Mom?”
Emily didn’t know what to say. Her hesitation was enough for Lorna to understand.
Tempest was gone. And so was her mother.
Lorna looked around with a frown. “Toby?”
Emily pointed out of the destroyed house. Pete was leaning over the prone body of Toby. Pete gently shook his friend but there was no response.
Aftermath
Lorna’s own pain was forgotten as she knelt next to Toby. He had a cut on the side of his head that was bleeding freely. Trembling with fright, she staunched it with her sleeve as Emily felt for his pulse.
“It’s strong,” said Emily.
Lorna and Emily had both achieved certificates in first aid, but Lorna couldn’t remember a single thing they had learned. Emily was much more composed when under pressure, but she was still relieved when Toby coughed and his eyes flickered open.
“What …?” was all he managed before Lorna crushed him in a hug, squeezing the breath from him. Then Pete rapidly explained what had happened.
“You’re a complete nut, attacking Doc Tempest without any powers,” concluded Pete.
Toby didn’t say a word. The shock of losing his mom had just hit him and he could find no words to express himself.
“What have we done?” Lorna asked in a trembling voice. “Where’s he taken Mom?”
Toby didn’t know what to say. He and Lorna stared at the remains of their home. It reminded Lorna of a dollhouse she had once had, one where the front hinged open, revealing the interior. Half the study and kitchen had been gouged away by the twister, including Toby’s bedroom and the bathroom above. Papers fluttered everywhere as most of the books in the study had been torn apart under the fierce air pressure. Severed pipes shot pressurized jets of water out, while broken electrical cables snaked with a life of their own, sparking angrily. To top it off, Lorna swore she could smell gas; she was now worried the remains of the house would explode in an instant. The whole structure creaked ominously.
Toby’s foot caught something. It was a small box that he instantly recognized. He carefully picked it up and opened it, making sure the contents didn’t spill out and break on the floor. Several sealed vials of insulin and an injection kit. Lorna saw it, and if possible, became even graver.
“How long can she last without her medication?”
“What’s it for?” asked Pete.
“Mom’s got type one diabetes. She gets low on sugar and needs these injections regularly or she’ll collapse. Even die.”
Toby closed the kit and held it tightly. The clock was ticking.
* * *
The fire department had arrived quickly and the children had been escorted from the scene by a fireman, who warned them that the building was close to collapse, and would probably have to be demolished.
Next, the ambulance crews arrived, and all four children found themselves draped in silver thermal blankets. Paramedics tended to the
ir wounds. Once the blood had been cleaned away they could see the cuts were minor, although the one on Toby’s head looked impressive and needed a few butterfly stitches and a large bandage.
Finally the police arrived, cordoning off the entire street, since the twister had ravaged five other houses in its path of destruction. The police asked Toby and Lorna if the house had been empty.
They described how their mother had been plucked away by the tornado—both children agreeing not to mention Doc Tempest’s involvement. After all, they had no idea if the police would believe them. Or who—if anybody—knew about these rampaging supervillains?
The kind-faced policewoman who took their statement was surprised by just how well Lorna and Toby were taking the news about their missing mother. Toby overheard her talking to a colleague, asking for an aerial search for their mother’s body; they believed she must have died. Tornadoes often drop objects miles from the point they were vacuumed up.
By six o’clock the police had to keep packs of newshungry camera crews at the end of the street. They had no luck contacting Lorna and Toby’s father, and their nearest relatives were in Europe somewhere.
Fortunately, Pete and Emily stepped in to prevent their friends from having to stay with Social Services. They said it would be okay if they stayed with them. Calls were exchanged, and with little choice, Toby went to stay with Pete, and Lorna with Emily.
Before they parted ways, Toby and Lorna had a brief quiet moment together—and Lorna broke down in floods of tears. Toby bit his lip to fight back his tears.
“You think … Mom is …?” Tears choked the rest of Lorna’s sentence.
“Don’t even think it,” he said sharply. He was feeling lousy and upset, but knew he had to be there as a support for his sister. He may have argued a lot with his mother lately, but the thought of her in any danger made him feel both angry and sad. “Tempest needs her alive. I’m sure he’ll have something to help her.” His voice broke, but he regained his composure. “So you know Mom’s going to be fine. And we are the ones who are going to get her back.”