Hunter (9780698158504)
Page 1
ALSO BY MICHAEL CARROLL
The Quantum Prophecy Trilogy
The Awakening
The Gathering
The Reckoning
Super Human
The Ascension
Stronger
PHILOMEL BOOKS
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Copyright © 2014 by Michael Carroll
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Carroll, Michael Owen, 1966–
Hunter : a Super human clash / Michael Carroll.
pages cm
Summary: “Fourteen-year-old Lance seeks revenge; but how does a regular teenager with no special powers except outstanding intellect, the tricks of a con artist, and an exceptional ability to persuade, defeat one of the strongest super villains alive?”—Provided by publisher.
[1. Superheroes—Fiction. 2. Supervillains—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.C23497Hu 2014 [Fic]—dc23 2013024006
ISBN 978-0-698-15850-4.
Version_1
For Grace Elizabeth Delaney & Brian Meagher,
serious contenders for the Nicest People in the World Awards!
CONTENTS
COVER
ALSO BY MICHAEL CARROLL
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT
DEDICATION
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
EPILOGUE
IT WAS A LITTLE AFTER MIDNIGHT when Lance McKendrick left his tiny bedroom in Max Dalton’s New Jersey base and padded barefoot through the corridors and out into the base’s large garage.
He stopped at the barred section and looked in at the man lying on a thin mattress on the floor.
“I’m awake,” the man said. “That’s what you’re wondering, isn’t it?” He turned his head to face Lance. “Crisis of conscience? Starting to wonder whether you’ve chosen the wrong allies?”
“Not really,” Lance said. “I just find it hard to sleep knowing that there’s a supervillain only a few feet away.”
Casey Duval rolled onto his side, then sat up, and Lance involuntarily took a step back.
“You think I’m a villain? Interesting. I suppose that depends on where you’re standing. On this side of the bars, I’m the victim of a kidnapping. Max and his crew broke into my base, overpowered me, and brought me here. I’ve never done anything to hurt them, so how does that make me the bad guy?”
“I know you better than you think,” Lance said.
“You’re a strange kid, McKendrick. Not like the others. You know that, right? You’re not superhuman.”
“I know. You already told me.” Lance shrugged. “Well, not you exactly. The other you.”
“The version of me you met in that alternate reality,” Duval said, nodding. “That must have been something. I envy you, Lance. To get to see and experience a world so similar to our own, but vastly different at the same time.”
“It wasn’t so great,” Lance said. “I don’t get you at all, Casey. The other you was smart, manipulative, and very dangerous. He could have ruled that world.”
“Different realities, different circumstances . . . What do you want, Lance? I know you don’t trust Max. Come to check out the competition? See if I’ve got anything better to offer? Because maybe you don’t get me, but I do get you. I understand you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Lancelot Aaron McKendrick. Fourteen years old. Recently orphaned. A habitual liar, a would-be con artist, smarter than you let on but still not as smart as you like to think you are, and seriously conflicted. All teenagers are conflicted, of course—that goes with the territory—but you’ve got it worse than most. You’re torn between your desire to keep everyone at a distance and your longing for friends. Can’t have it both ways, kid.”
Lance dragged a chair over and set it down in front of the bars. “Every adult forgets that they were a teenager too. They forget what it was like. So you’re trying to appeal to me by telling me that you understand. That’s how you work, isn’t it? Telling people what they want to hear. You get under their skin, have them twisted around so that they don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Casey smiled. “Isn’t that what you do?”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You and I are a lot alike in so many ways, blah blah blah. That won’t work on me.”
“Because you’re too smart for me?”
“Because I can see the strings as you’re pulling them.”
“A little advice for you, Lance: Never assume you’re smarter than someone else. That kind of cocksure attitude is nothing more than arrogance borrowed from the future. Eventually you’re going to have to pay it back, usually with interest. And, yes, I do claim to be smarter than you, but that’s not an assumption. That’s knowledge. You understand the difference?”
“Sure.”
“Good. So let me tell you what I know about you. Couple of weeks back you stumbled across a keycard that gave you access . . . No, let’s be honest here. You stole a keycard that gave you access to one of The Helotry’s warehouses. You broke in, probably hoping to find something you could sell. Instead, you found a whole mess of trouble that resulted in your being saved by our armored friend Paragon. And that put you into the company of Roz, Thunder, and Abby. And, later, Brawn. Together you scuppered The Helotry’s plan to snatch Krodin out of the distant past and establish him as the rightful ruler of the human race. It ended up with Krodin being whipped back through time. And everyone was saved. How am I doing?”
“Not bad so far,” Lance said, wondering whether the man was meandering toward a point or just showing off. “It’s a neat way of letting me know that you’ve been investigating me.”
“And because of your part in this, The Helotry’s vicious little watchdog Slaughter murdered your mother, your father, and your brother.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty about that, don’t bother. I
already do.”
“Because if you hadn’t been involved, they’d still be alive? No, don’t go thinking like that, Lance. Slaughter doesn’t operate under the same rules as the rest of us. She’s borderline insane. She was furious that you kids ruined her plans, so she lashed out. It’s just unfortunate that you were the only one whose real name she knew. To her, your parents and brother were the most logical target. I described her as a ‘watchdog,’ and that’s how you have to think of her, as a wild animal.”
Lance said, “Sometimes, for the good of everyone else, a wild animal has to be put down.”
Casey Duval paused for a moment as he looked at Lance. “Or tamed.”
“Sure, you can sometimes tame a wild animal, but you can never be certain that it won’t turn on you.”
“Interesting. . . . If you honestly believe that you can find and confront Slaughter and come out of it alive, then you’re riding on the crest of supreme idiocy. She is immeasurably stronger and faster than you are. Not one of the world’s self-appointed superheroes has ever been able to find her when she didn’t want to be found, and those who have found her have almost always come off the worst for it. Tell me, Lance, what makes you think you can do better than, say, Titan?”
“I have an advantage.”
“A desire for revenge is not an advantage. Quite the opposite, in fact.”
Lance smiled. “It’s more than that. I know her real name.”
“What? How could you . . . ?” Casey frowned at Lance in silence for a moment. “Ah, right. You met her counterpart in the alternate reality.”
“How much do you know about that?” Lance asked.
“Probably a lot more than Max realizes. Krodin was sent back in time, but not all the way. Only a few years, but enough for him to change the world, to create an alternate reality that had him as the absolute ruler of the United States.” Casey smiled. “But you and your friends ruined that for him too, didn’t you? You were dragged from this reality into his. And you—fourteen-year-old Lance McKendrick with no superhuman abilities and precious few other attributes aside from a relatively quick brain and a big mouth—thought of a way to completely destroy that alternate reality and get rid of Krodin forever.” Casey bowed his head for a moment. “That was impressive. Even more so when one considers the sacrifice you made.”
Lance watched him silently, thinking, Please don’t go there.
“See, it occurs to me that in the alternate reality Slaughter never killed your family. So when you were over there, they were still alive. Right? You got them back. But to carry out your plan to set the world right meant you would have to lose them again. You knew that, and you did it anyway.”
Lance stood up. “I think we’re done here.”
“That took courage, Lance. Not many people could have done that. Do you think that Max would have had the fortitude to make such a decision? No, of course not. He’s a self-serving egotist with delusions of grandeur.” Casey smiled. “So am I, I’ll admit, but I have the skills and the tenacity to turn my delusions into reality. Now, the way I see it, you’re approaching a crossroads. You can choose to stick with Max, or side with me. Max wants to save the world by hiding the truth and tricking everyone into thinking that his way is the only way. That’s where he and I differ most. So what’s it to be? The crossroads is coming up fast, Lance, and once you make your decision, that’s it. There’s no going back—not this time.”
Lance took a step closer to the bars. “What you’re describing isn’t a crossroads. It’s a T-junction. A crossroads has three possible paths.”
Casey shrugged. “Semantics. There are only two options here.”
“No. There’s a third, and if you can’t see it, then you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
MUCH LATER, Lance figured he’d probably learned one of those Important Life Lessons his third-grade teacher had once tried to explain to the class: The history books are written by the winners.
The night after his conversation with Casey, Lance was woken by a ground-trembling crash. He sat up in bed, startled, eyes wide in the darkness as alarms and shouts echoed through the building.
He ran from the room and almost collided with Max Dalton. “What’s happening?”
“Stay in your room, Lance!” Max shouted back over his shoulder.
Lance watched him go for a second, then followed him out into the main part of the base.
Ollie French, one of the former U.S. Rangers who worked as Max’s bodyguards, stood in the center of the room holding his gun on Brawn, the thirteen-foot-tall blue-skinned giant. And their teammate and friend. “Facedown, on the floor! Now, Brawn! I swear, I’ll open fire!”
Max was staring off to the side. “No, no, no, no!” He glared at Brawn, who was in a half crouch, arms extended, fists clenched. “You idiot! What were you thinking!?”
Lance turned to look in the same direction. The heavy bars to Casey Duval’s cell had been torn free from their concrete foundations, and were now buried deep in the hood of Ollie’s car. “Oh man,” Lance said to Brawn. “Why? Why did you do that?” He knew that Brawn had been talking to Casey, and that neither of them believed that someone should be locked up just because he might be dangerous, but this wasn’t the right way to solve that problem.
Max shouted, “Roz, get Ernie on the radio. I want the copter here ASAP. And get Ox to call the chief of police—I want a full sweep of the area. Every cop in the state, every traffic camera!” He strode toward Brawn. “You absolute moron! You’ve just freed the most dangerous man in the country!”
Brawn didn’t respond, and Lance was sure that he was just one step away from hitting Max. With the vast strength in Brawn’s oversize muscles, a single punch could crush a man’s skull.
Max stepped back and shouted, “Thunder!”
Lance jumped as Thunder’s voice echoed around the room. James Klaus’s superhuman ability allowed him to manipulate sound waves: His voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.
“I heard,” Thunder said. “Everyone’s body makes sound all the time. Heartbeat, respiration, the digestive system, muscles expanding and contracting . . . Those noises combine to create a sound signature that’s completely unique to each person. I’m listening for—”
“I don’t want a blasted lecture!” Max shouted. “Just find him!”
Brawn straightened up. “Thunder, don’t do it. Casey hasn’t done anything wrong. We were holding him illegally.” He turned to face Lance. “You understand, right?”
Lance shrugged. “I dunno . . .” He wanted to say more, to tell Brawn that, yes, he understood why Brawn felt Casey should be free, but that this way was only going to cause more problems.
Lance stepped back as Abigail de Luyando came running into the room, her sword in her hand. He knew he was out of his depth here. They were superhumans; he was just an ordinary person, mostly.
The fight was short, and brutal. As Abby and Roz raced out of the base in pursuit of Casey, Thunder hit the room with a deafening shock wave, powerful enough that it almost knocked Brawn off his feet. Brawn didn’t hit back, and Lance was thankful for that. He and Thunder were not the closest of friends, but he certainly didn’t want to see him hurt or killed.
Instead, Brawn turned to run, and the rangers opened fire. Their shots plowed into the blue giant, but didn’t slow him down—Brawn was close to invulnerable.
Another of the guards—Antonio Lashley—ran straight toward Brawn, firing continuously at point-blank. Brawn snatched him up as he ran and threw him over his shoulder.
Lashley slammed into the ground next to Lance, landing heavily on his back.
Lance crouched next to him to check that he was still alive, but the sound of tearing metal grabbed his attention: Brawn had torn his way through the base’s metal shutters, and was now pounding down the street after Roz and Abby.
• • •
He was hoping that Abby would tell him that he couldn’t have known, but instead she just shrugged and said, “You never know what’s going on inside anyone’s mind.”
Now, with Casey and Brawn fleeing in separate directions and half the cops in the state of New Jersey hunting them, Lance and Abby sat with Roz and James in the base’s small kitchen.
“You kids stay put,” Max had told them as he and the rangers prepped their vehicles for the search. “I mean it. I don’t want you putting yourselves—and everyone else—at risk just because you want to be heroes.”
Abby had objected, as Lance had guessed she would. She wanted to find Brawn and bring him back. James and Roz, too, were unhappy with Max’s order.
“We’re superhuman,” Roz Dalton had told her brother. “We can help.”
Max had said, “The police don’t know you, so they won’t trust you. Besides, there should be someone here in case Duval or Brawn comes back.”
Lance had replied, “Well, you could make the cops trust us.”
“Lance,” James said, “you aren’t part of this anyway. You don’t have any powers. Or ethics.”
Now Lance made a grab for the ketchup bottle only to have it slide away out of his reach.
He watched as the bottle silently and smoothly rose from the table. Its cap spun and lifted off, and remained hovering in place as the bottle upended itself and poured a dollop of ketchup onto the side of Roz’s plate.
Sitting opposite Roz, James nodded slowly. “Nice. You’re definitely getting more control. Wish I had telekinesis.”
Lance held up his hand. “Roz, over here.”
The bottle righted itself and the cap dropped back into place. Then it darted toward Lance’s hand.
Abby, standing behind Lance, reached over his head and snatched the bottle out of the air before he could grab it. “Have to be quicker, Lance.”
“No, you have to be nicer.” He stabbed a piece of bacon with his fork. “Man, did you see Brawn going through those pizzas yesterday evening? Four large pizzas and he ate them like they were cookies. I was only three slices into mine and he was crushing up the empty box of his last one.”