Orion: A Heroic Novel

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Orion: A Heroic Novel Page 10

by Travis Johnston


  “I’m not an alien,” I said flatly.

  He walked with me, still waiting for an answer. “Well, what then?”

  “I don’t want to tell you, Doug, because I know you’re terrible at keeping secrets. You’ll tell everyone you know.”

  “No I won’t!” he snorted. “Besides, it’s not much of a secret now is it? The whole world already knows you’re superhuman.”

  “They think I’m superhuman. They still don’t know for sure.”

  “Well,” Doug said as he tried to keep up with me. “Maybe they’ll have a better idea after they hear about what happened at football practice yesterday.”

  I stopped walking and turned on him, glaring as I grabbed his shirt. “You would tell them?”

  “Why not?” he said, not backing down. Doug wasn’t as big as me, but he didn’t fear me like most guys at school. He knew me too well. “If you’re not a superhuman, then it’s no big deal, right? But, if you are… then I’ll have a reason to stay quiet.”

  “You’re threatening me?” We were between the two buildings nearest to the parking lot. Students were walking by, paying closer attention to our conversation than I’d wanted.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s only a threat if you’re actually what everyone is saying you are: a freak.”

  I shoved him away from me and kept walking. He was really starting to get under my nerves. Doug didn’t follow me this time. “Fine!” he said behind my back. “If you won’t say anything, I will!”

  That was it! In a blur, I spun around, grabbed Doug by the throat, and—with one hand—lifted him into the air. My insides were burning with energy; I had ignited my powers unconsciously. Doug’s eyes were wide in shock as he clawed at my arm, trying to break my grip.

  Then, I smelled something. Something awful. It smelled like something was burning… like burning flesh. I hadn’t noticed until now that my hand was bright red. Doug’s flesh! I dropped him, horrified at what I’d done.

  Doug squirmed on the ground, holding his throat and coughing for air. His neck looked discolored and blistered. “Your eyes…” he wheezed. He coughed some more, unable to finish his sentence. I suddenly realized how stupid this was. Without a word, I’d just given him exactly what he was looking for: confirmation that I am... a freak. He looked pale, as if he’d seen a ghost, probably in shock.

  I glanced around. A small clump of students had surrounded us, unable to peel their eyes from the scene. Were my eyes still glowing? I broke through the small circle of students and jogged toward the parking lot. I tried to dampen the burning feeling as I ran. As I turned the corner around the last school building to get to the parking lot, I skid to a stop, unable to believe what I was seeing.

  Between me and my truck was a throng of news reporters. Five or six news vans were parked on the side of the parking lot. Camera technicians were filming reporters as they interviewed random students. Photographers were snapping pictures of the school in the background.

  “There he is!” shouted a voice. In almost perfect unison, every reporter, camera guy, photographer, and student turned their heads toward me. And then they started sprinting in my direction.

  Panic washed over me. Now, don’t get me wrong… I had always loved the idea of popularity and fame. I really enjoyed being the most popular guy at school, and I planned on being a famous football star—at least I did. But, this… this was too much, too fast! And for the wrong reasons! I lowered my head and made a beeline for my truck.

  The first reporter, a guy in a suit with grey hair and a microphone, blocked my path. “Ray Simmons,” he said. “Can you tell us how you stopped the thief in the gas station yesterday?” He pointed the microphone at me.

  “Um…” I mumbled.

  I tried to move around him, but was stopped by another reporter. She had dark hair and wore too much perfume. “Mr. Simmons, are you a super human?”

  “No,” I responded, probably not convincing enough. I was still shaken by what I’d done to Doug. “I’m not.” I tried walking around her, but she followed me.

  “Then how did you do what you did yesterday?” she prodded.

  “I… uh…” I stammered.

  “Are you on drugs?” another reporter asked. A guy with a clean-cut beard.

  “No,” I said.

  “Steroids?”

  “I already said no!” They were making it hard to get to my truck. Nearly all of the news crews had their microphones in my face by now. Photographers were snapping pictures of me. Cameras were all aimed at me, as if they were ready to deliver a head shot. I thought about running, leaving them in a blur, but that would give them exactly what they were looking for: evidence that I’m superhuman. I couldn’t make the same mistake twice. “Just leave me alone!” I said as I pushed my way through them.

  Unfazed, the newscasters followed me to the truck, asking me all sorts of questions. I didn’t answer any of them. I finally got to my truck, climbed in, slammed the door, and heaved a big sigh. This was crazy! I thought.

  Several photographers were still snapping pictures of me from outside my truck. I turned the engine and pulled out. A couple newscasters moved out of the way evading getting caught under my wheels. I sped out of the parking lot toward home.

  My hands were trembling on the wheel. How did these reporters get here so fast? I wondered. The gas station thing had happened just yesterday! Why are they so interested in me? I ran a hand through my hair. I guess it is a pretty big story. A real life superhero? Yeah, that’s never happened before.

  My thoughts turned to Doug. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve just told him. Maybe he would’ve kept the secret. I felt sick inside as I remembered the smell of his burning flesh. He was right… I am a freak.

  I turned on some loud music, but it didn’t drown my feelings out like it did in the past. This was serious. The whole world knows that I might be superhuman, I thought. So much for Inferno. There’s really no point in hiding my identity now. Maybe I could still convince them that I’m not superhuman. Maybe… maybe not. Not if they get a chance to talk to Doug. Maybe I could run away. I pressed my lips together into a thin line and punched the steering wheel. Why did I touch that stupid stone!

  I drove over the speed limit, not caring whether I got pulled over or not. This day had turned sour really fast. I was grateful school was over, no more football practice, and now I could get away from it all at home. Once I could see my house in the distance, I slammed on the breaks and cursed.

  Parked along the street around my house were several white vans… news vans.

  Chapter 16

  Michael

  My eyes fluttered open. The afternoon sun was pouring through my bedroom window. I sat up and cringed from a nasty headache. What happened?

  I thought back on last night. I was running near Verde Ranch and then suddenly passed out for some strange reason. I shivered just thinking about that horrible pain that I’d felt before passing out. Fortunately, that pain was gone; now I just felt weak, hungry, and had a headache.

  Glimpses of memory flashed through my mind. A dark, fuzzy image of Sarah standing over me, looking concerned. A feeling of relief that the pain was gone. A long walk to the car, Sarah helping me the whole way. Voices outside my bedroom door; Sarah telling mom that I was sick and needed to rest.

  I rolled off my bed and opened a drawer, the blue meteorite rolled around inside. Sarah had put it back. I snatched it out and observed it carefully as I walked out my room, downstairs, and into the kitchen. Nobody was home, probably still at school and work. I poured myself some cereal and ate slowly as I kept looking at the blue stone.

  Why did I pass out?

  I quickly thought of a rollercoaster, causing an adrenaline rush that turned my powers on. I could feel the tingling energy rush through me again. It felt great, powerful, but no pain. None of that horrendous, life-sucking pain. “Hm….”

  I’d thought my powers were gone, but was grateful that they weren’t. The meteorite gave me these pow
ers. They were obviously connected somehow. I remembered feeling much better when Sarah had found me last night, not just because she was there to help, but because she was carrying the meteorite in her pocket. I’d felt better when it was close to me. Why?

  Eager to test something out, I quickly finished my breakfast, returned the blue stone to its hiding spot in my dresser, and got in my car. I drove around the block and stopped. I turned on my powers. It felt great, electric. I kept my powers on and drove out of the neighborhood. The tingling energy continued to spread around my body. I drove a little further, thinking my theory was wrong, but then I felt it. That terrible pain erupted in my gut and then spread through my limbs to the tips of my fingers.

  I hunched over the wheel and groaned, surprised again by how much it hurt. I focused on calming down and let my powers turn off. The pain stopped! I heaved a sigh and pulled the car over to the shoulder of the road. I think I’ve figured it out.

  I tested my powers again. The pain returned as soon as I turned them on, so I quickly turned them off. I was breathing hard, feeling weak, like I’d just ran a 5k. I felt like I’d already burned through the cereal I’d just eaten ten minutes ago, and I was hungry again.

  I pulled a u-ey and drove back to my house. As I got closer, I bravely turned my powers on again, and was happy to sense the power instead of the pain. I kept my powers on all the way until I parked in my driveway. I ran up to my room and got out the blue stone and made a commitment to always keep it with me.

  The meteorite was the source of my power. I’d thought that it’d just given me powers and was obsolete now, but I was wrong. The stone was still actively giving me my powers, and I needed to be near it. A little less than a mile or so. It had a limited range. Using my powers outside that range would result in pain and, eventually passing out. So, the solution was to keep the stone with me at all times.

  I jumped as I heard the front door open and close. Footsteps thumped up the stairs and Sarah burst into my room. “Hey, you feeling better?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for helping. I’ll forgive your intrusion into my room this time. I think I figured out why…”

  “Wait, Michael.” She cut me off, looking anxious to tell me something. “Have you seen the news yet?”

  An hour later, I was still sitting on the couch, watching the news. Sarah was in the recliner across the room. Mom and Dad were home now and sat on the sofa next to me.

  Ray Simmons’ face filled the TV screen. They’d caught him on camera using superpowers, supposedly. I leaned back into the couch, overwhelmed with the information. Sarah glanced at me from across the room. Her horrified expression matched my emotions.

  I’m not alone, I thought. I’m not the only one with superpowers. Someone else has them. Someone like me. I shook my head. Why? Why did it have to be Ray?

  I had secretly wished to beat him up someday with the extra help of my powers, but that wouldn’t be so easy now that he had powers too. It was obvious how he got them. He must’ve touched a glowing meteorite… just like me. Are his powers the same as mine? Maybe I could go ask him. I shook my head and frowned. No, this is Ray we’re talking about. He hates me… and I hate him. Besides, I looked back at the news, he’s probably not in the mood to talk to anyone right now.

  Mom and Dad were ever the extreme skeptics as they watched. “They’re all idiots,” Dad said pointing at the screen. “Just because the reporters say that the video wasn’t tampered with, doesn’t mean that it wasn’t. The reporters are lying, simple as that.”

  “The video itself isn’t very clear either,” Mom said. “You can barely tell what’s going on. Is he moving really fast, or is that just the video skipping forward. It’s just as clear as every video and picture of Bigfoot.” If I hadn’t touched that blue stone and become a super human myself, I’d probably be just as dubious as them.

  Several eye witnesses at the gas station talked about Ray and what they’d seen him do. Dad and Mom couldn’t help but vocally dismiss each testimonial. “She was paid to say that!” Dad claimed.

  “He looks like a drunk!” Mom declared. “And she wasn’t even in the video when it happened!”

  I rolled my eyes at how determined they were to not believe the news, but I didn’t say anything. It was nice to have them at least agree with each other on something, even if they were both dead wrong. I knew it had to be true. Ray had powers. He had touched a glowing stone like me.

  The news cut to a new scene where Ray was walking out of school. He was completely surrounded by cameras, newscasters with microphones, and on-looking students. The video showed him say very little, push his way through to his truck, and drive away.

  I couldn’t help but feel sympathetic towards Ray. Even though he was a jerk, I could tell he didn’t want his powers to be discovered like that. I knew I didn’t want that for myself. This reminded me why I needed to be so careful about using my powers in public.

  I tried putting myself in his shoes. If I were Ray—well, honestly, first of all I would punch myself, just because I would hate myself for being Ray.

  And then I imagined always being on the run. Everyone recognizing my face. My own friends betraying me. People wanting to put me in jail, operate on me, and maybe even kill me because I was such a dangerous threat to them. I shivered at the thought.

  Doug Cooper, Ray’s best friend, was on the TV. This was probably my third time watching this segment. It was weird to see so many people I knew personally on TV. Doug pointed to his neck; it was red and blistered as if it had been burnt raw. “Yes, Ray Simmons did this to me,” Doug said hoarsely. “He used to be my friend, but now he’s a freakin’ monster! He definitely has superpowers. I was asking him a couple questions about it, and then he just snapped and did this to me with one hand!”

  The scene cut to a picture of a guy I recognized from school in the hospital with a neck brace. Doug spoke as the video played, “But, this isn’t nearly as bad as what he did yesterday at football practice. He nearly killed James.”

  I jumped, when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Zack. Dude, it said. Have you seen the stuff about Ray on the news?

  Watching it right now, I texted back.

  “James Earl was confirmed with a head and neck injury yesterday,” a female reporter—well, reported—“during football practice by none other than Ray Simmons. Sahuaro High School football coach Dan Jones had this to say about the matter.”

  The video cut to Coach Jones with a microphone up to his face, sporting his hat and whistle like always. “I don’t know about superpowers,” he said. “That seems a little farfetched. I was thinking some sort of mega steroids. That’s why I kicked him off the team. However, I will admit that he did some things yesterday that seemed even too incredible for ‘roids. Either way, as much as I miss having him on the team, Simmons shouldn’t be playing football. He’s too dangerous.”

  Zack sent another text message. You know what this means? You need to get yourself a disguise! Ski mask or motorcycle helmet? I’ve got both. Just say the word and one of them is yours.

  Or just never use my powers in public. I didn’t send that, just thought it. I didn’t respond to Zack at all. A part of me knew he was right. Could I really live out my life without ever using my powers in public? I wondered. If there ever came a time where I had to use my powers, it would be nice to have a disguise on hand… otherwise, I might end up like Ray.

  There was a knock at the door. Sarah went to go get it. Mom and Dad were going on about how the football team and newscasters were trying to exaggerate their stories to make it look like Ray had superpowers. “It’s like they’re creating their own breadcrumbs,” Dad said. “Making up new stories just to prove their original one. I think Coach Jones was dead on with his first idea. Ray’s probably just on drugs.”

  “Hey Michael.” It was Sarah. “Someone’s at the door for you.” She whispered the next part to me. “I think it's your girlfriend!”

  My stomach did a front flip as I made my
way to the door. Sarah didn't wait around for me to correct her and scurried back to the living room to watch the news.

  Sure enough, Angela stood there in the entryway, looking fantastic. She smiled when she saw me, but only for a couple seconds. “Hi, Michael, sorry to show up unannounced.”

  “No, it's fine,” I said. “What's up?”

  “We need to talk about something important. Will you step outside with me for a moment?”

  “Uh... sure.” I gulped. What did I do wrong? Did I offend her on our last date? Was she going to tell me the secrets her dad has been keeping from us? Or maybe she came all the way over here because she was desperate to give me a kiss. Okay, probably not, but a guy can dream, right?

  It was warm outside; the sun was about to set. Once I closed the door behind me, Angela spoke. “Michael, can I see your meteorite?

  “Um, yeah.” I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to her. She brought it close to her face and spun it delicately in her fingers, scanning every inch of it. I tried to hide my nervousness. “What's so interesting about the rock? I know your dad went crazy when he saw it, but—hey! What’re you doing?”

  She’d bent over and started pounding the stone against the sidewalk. I cringed, afraid it would break. What would happen if it broke? Would it kill me? I didn't know how far my connection with the stone went.

  Fortunately there wasn't even as much as a scratch on it, though the sidewalk couldn't say the same. Angela huffed and handed it back to me. “Has it glowed at all?”

  “No,” I said, cupping the stone in my hands like it was my baby. “Not since we found it. Why?”

  She pointed over my shoulder. “It’s that.”

  “My house?”

  “No, silly, the news channel. Have you seen it lately? About Ray Simmons?”

  I folded my arms. “Yeah, I saw it. Crazy huh?”

 

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