The Sovereign Era (Book 1): Brave Men Run

by Matthew Wayne Selznick

  The lights turned red. We had two minutes. Teslowski made the most of it. He flew out of his chair and loomed over me.

  "You little shit. Who do you think you are?"

  His belly strained beneath his button down shirt. It was kind of a stupid move, really, putting his gut right in front of a guy whose fingernails can slice through aluminum cans and "still cut tomatoes like this," as they say on the knife commercial.

  I fought the urge to see how good a job I'd done blunting my nails. I stayed seated. Fucker wouldn't dare try anything, not with the lawyers all there, not with the studio security guards moving in... not knowing what I could do.

  "Mister Teslowski, please sit down." Azarrio probably wished Teslowski had waited to perform this little show when the cameras were live.

  My mother stood up. "You even think of touching my boy..."

  I looked over my shoulder, up at her. "Seriously..?"

  I saw she was as irritated with me as she was with Teslowski. Great. What had I done, other than say what everyone on our side of the stage all thought?

  "Marc..." Jeri Teslowski's protest, if you could call it that, was a little peep.

  Teslowski stayed where he was as the seconds ticked away. We looked at each other. The smell of his sweat was thick on my extra-human olfactory glands. He reeked of anger and... yep. There is was.

  Fear.

  It made my own crawling irritation and frustration with this whole stupid ordeal ratchet tighter. The dense muscles in my thighs bounced with the urge to leap. My peripheral vision blacked as my focus narrowed.

  This guy had no idea.

  Jeri Teslowski, too quiet for anyone but Marc and my own sensitive ears to hear, said, "Please stop," in a whisper that was way more disgusted than I thought she had the guts for.

  Teslowski slumped in his chair, glaring at nothing, and acted like he hadn't heard a thing.

  Azarrio moved up into the audience. He was unruffled and ready when the lights changed.

  "Welcome back to The Azarrio Show, where we're with two families at the center of a number of legal battles sure to affect relations with the people calling themselves Sovereign for years to come," he said into the camera. "Let's see what the audience thinks of all this."

  He found a bald man even softer and more fat than Teslowski. "Hello, sir. What's your name?"

  "Frank."

  "And what do you do, Frank?"

  "I'm a corrections officer."

  "A public servant. Good for you." Azarrio put a hand on Frank's shoulder. "Do you have a thought you'd like to share, or a question for our guests?"

  Frank's gaze swept past me in the want-to-look-don't-want-to-stare way I'm very, very used to. "My question is for Mister Teslowski..."

  We'd been coached on this. Teslowski grumbled, "Hi, Frank."

  Frank nodded. He had that weird air of bashful excitement I'd seen on so many television audience members; it was strange to watch it in person.

  "Hi. Um... why do the Sovereigns say your son agreed to stay at their... headquarters, or..."

  "Institute," Azarrio said helpfully.

  "Yeah, their Institute? I mean, if they kidnapped him, what are their demands?"

  I almost laughed out loud, which made my mother nudge my chair; a subtle warning for me. How awesome. I couldn't help but wonder if our lawyers had planted this guy.

  "Well... Frank..." I watched Teslowski lick his lips and flare his nostrils. "They're not going to come right out and say they kidnapped him. Right?"

  Frank scratched the side of his head. "I don't know... I mean, their whole thing is they don't care about our laws, I thought."

  Azarrio said, "Perhaps the Sovereign would be reluctant to admit to kidnapping, given the somewhat negative opinion of them held by the majority of Americans, according to one recent poll." He looked at me. "No offense, Nate."

  The camera was on me again, ready for a reaction shot. I tensed my legs to keep them from jumping and the butterflies came back.

  A memory from almost a year ago popped into my head. My friend Jason, standing up to Byron Teslowski, even though Jason was about a foot and a half shorter and fifty pounds lighter. That helped.

  "None taken. Everybody knows I'm not a Sovereign. Hank."

  Azarrio had a twinkle in his eye that made me want to rip one out and feel it pop between my teeth.

  "That's the assertion of your legal team -- funded in part by the Donner Institute for Sovereign Studies itself, we must remember -- but doesn't PrenticeCambrian contest that?"

  This particular time, I didn't mind my mother speaking up. "I don't think there's a single person in your audience who doesn't know the basics of our legal fight."

  Azarrio inclined his head briefly. "You claim there's evidence PrenticeCambrian conducted human experiments that provided Andrew Charters -- your husband -- with Sovereign-like abilities... and that Nate inherited some of those abilities."

  "Conducted, and continue to conduct." My mother's face twisted with disgust. "The assassins they sent after Nathan and Byron had been turned into... monsters."

  "These... assassins, as you call them... were killed by Andrew Charters, according to the police report filed by an eyewitness..."

  My mother kept her tone firm, but civil, like when she tried explaining why I really, really needed to take the trash out for the good of all mankind. "That's not correct, Mister Azarrio. Andrew killed one of them, in self-defense. The other one died when Lester Brenhurst," she said the name carefully, as if it was a rotten piece of fruit with a pit that threatened to break a tooth if she bit down too hard, "tried to kill my husband."

  "Allegedly," Azarrio smiled. He took control of the exchange by turning back to the camera.

  "Immediately after the events in question, Andrew Charters disappeared. He remains at large, despite the fact that his testimony could resolve many of the questions at the crux of this drama of corporations, our government, the Sovereigns, and these two families.

  "Now, we extended an invitation to the Donner Institute to be part of the show today, but their representatives declined." Azarrio put his attention on us again. "It makes me wonder, though -- have any of you met the leader of the Sovereign and, it's said, the most powereful metahuman known... Dr. William Karl Donner himself?"

  As if. I shook my head. I heard my mother exhale with exasperation. To my left, the Teslowski's shook their heads as well.

  Azarrio moved to stand near Byron's mom. "Jeri Teslowski, William Donner, quite possibly, has been in daily contact with your son for nearly a year, while you've literally counted the days since the last time you heard Byron's voice. If you could say one thing to William Donner, what would it be?"

  I was developing a real healthy hatred of Hank Azarrio. Byron's mom seemed like she wanted to fold in on herself. Her eyes were wide enough to fall out of her narrow face.

  "What... what would I say..?" She looked quickly at her glaring husband, then at her own lap. She shrugged her shoulders.

  A vein along Marc Teslowski's jaw thumped. I found myself fixating on it. I wondered what it would be like to grab it and pull it right off his face like a magic trick with a ribbon... just pull and pull until he unraveled.

  My stomach grumbled. It had been too long since I'd fed my hyper metabolism.

  Teslowski stepped up for his wife. "I'll tell you what I would say." He looked from camera to camera until one moved closer. "Listen up."

  He leaned forward, red-faced, and faced the camera.

  "You're just... you're just a suit, Donner. You're a little, small man. I've seen the pictures. I could snap you in half."

  Azarrio stage-chuckled. "Those are some harsh words, Mister Teslowski. No doubt under--"

  "I'm not done." He jabbed a fat finger at the camera, at the demi-god who, we could all pretty much assume, wasn't watching.

  "You put aside that shit you do, Donner, and let's see what happens. You be a man, and you give me back my son, and you answer to me." He stabbed at the camera agai
n. "Then. Then, we'll see, won't we?"

  Teslowski sat back in his chair. I had to give it to him... even if he was an abusive, puffy asshole, if he had any anxiety about threatening a guy who could pretty much literally do anything he set his mind to, he sure didn't let it show.

  Azarrio looked at the audience and shugged before turning his attention back to Byron's dad. "Mister Teslowski... are you saying you would challenge Doctor Donner to a... to a physical fight?"

  Teslowski's lip curled. "What is it with this 'doctor' thing, anyway? Why does everyone refer to this guy like he deserves our respect? What's he done to deserve that?"

  A few low voices in the audience seemed to agree.

  "I mean, do we give that kind of respect to the Ayatollah? To Qaddafi? To Edi Amin?" For a second I thought Teslowski was going to spit on the stage. He swallowed, sneering.

  "He's a punk."

  Azarrio didn't let it go. "So, you really do want to fight him."

  Teslowski's fingers pressed the vinyl of his chair. "Jesus! Why don't we all want to fight him? Why don't we have all those freaks rounded up and locked away before they do something worse than Philadelphia, or whatever else they've got up their sleeves?"

  Outright cheers in the crowd at that. Who would have thought Marc Teslowski would be a voice of inspiration, even if it was for a bunch of idiots.

  "Hell," Marc said, "there's gotta be a few hundred of them at that camp of theirs. Once I get my kid back, why don't we just firebomb the place? Let 'em burn."

  "Now, Mister Teslowski," Azarrio said, "I know the tabloids, talk radio, blame the flooding in Pennsylvania on a Sovereign with elemental powers, but do you really believe that? People controlling the weather..?"

  Teslowski looked at Azarrio for a beat, then he looked right at me. He spoke slowly.

  "They're... not... people."

  I admit it. Even though I'm not a Sovereign and really didn't like being lumped in with them, the fucker got to me. I forgot we were in the studio. I forget we were on television. I forgot about the cameras.

  It was just me and this prick.

  I was still more or less in my chair, but my ass was off the seat. I leaned forward, knees bent, balanced on the balls of my feet. My arms were out; my fingers curved. I could cross the stage and be on him with one easy leap.

  I pulled my lips back, revealing unusually long canines.

  I did something I'd only recently learned how to do on demand.

  I growled.

  I heard the ripple of gasps and exclamations from the audience as they freaked out. My sensorium -- the combined input of my hearing and sense of smell -- told me the big guys in black tee-shirts were emerging from the wings, ready to step in if they needed to. If they did... well, dealing with me would be a lot harder than handling the usual paternity case dads and jilted lovers.

  Marc Teslowski looked about as ready to go as I was. The fact that the guy was so full of frustration he was willing to physically attack a sixteen year old kid on national television pulled me out of my own semi-bestial state.

  After all, much as I didn't want to, I could relate.

  I flopped back in my chair and shot the audience a nice friendly, goofy-kid grin; no teeth. Gee whiz, guys, I'm just joshin'!

  The security bruisers faded back off stage.

  Azarrio's chuckle was a lot less hearty than last time. "That was a pretty convincing display, Nate." His hard eyes were just for me. "You've reminded us: while the reasons may be in dispute, you are not an ordinary teenager. Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

  I shrugged.

  "Do you feel human, Nathan?"

  Get The Rest of the Story!

  http://www.pilgrimagenovel.com

  More From Matthew Wayne Selznick

  The Sovereign Era

  Brave Men Run -- A Novel of the Sovereign Era (The Charters Duology, Volume One)

  Pilgrimage -- A Novel of the Sovereign Era (The Charters Duology, Volume Two)

  "The World Revolves Around You"

  The Sovereign Era: Year One (editor)

  Paramount (forthcoming)

  Daikaiju Universe

  "Reggie Vs. Kaiju Storm Chimera Wolf"

  "Reggie Vs. Kaiju Dragon Squidbat" (forthcoming)

  Protector

  "Cloak"

  Non-Fiction

  Worldbuilding For Writers, Gamers, and Other Creatives Volume One: Star, Planet, Moon

  Reading The Amazing Spider-Man Volume One (forthcoming)

  Crowdfunding For Indie Authors (forthcoming)

  Before You Go...

  ...I want to say thank you, very much, for buying this ebook. As an independent author and creator, your patronage means a great deal to me. Your purchase quite literally helps keep a roof over my head and food on the table.

  Would you do me two final favors?

  First: if you found any typos, continuity errors, or other apparent mistakes, would you let me know? Please e-mail mwsmedia@gmail.com with the details. If applicable, we'll fix things very quickly.

  Second: I'd love it if you'd write an honest and thorough review of this book on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com, Goodreads.com, your own blog, or wherever you'd like. Reviews help sell books, and I really value them. Don't have time for a review? How about a quick note on Facebook, Twitter, or the social network you prefer?

  Thank you, very much!

  Sincerely,

  Matthew Wayne Selznick

  Table of Contents

  Brave Men Run

  Dedication

  Author's Note

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – One

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Three

  Lester Brenhurst – One

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Four

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Five

  Lester Brenhurst – Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Six

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Seven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Eight

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Nine

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Ten

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Eleven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twelve

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fourteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Sixteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Seventeen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Eighteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Nineteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty One

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Three

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Four

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Five

  Lester Brenhurst – Three

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Six

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Seven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Eight

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Twenty Nine

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty One

  Lester Brenhurst – Four

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Three

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Four

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Five

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Six

  Lester Brenhurst – Five

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Seven

  Lester Brenhurst – Six

  From The Journal Of Nate C
harters – Thirty Eight

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Thirty Nine

  Lester Brenhurst – Seven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty

  Lester Brenhurst – Eight

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty One

  Lester Brenhurst – Nine

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Three

  Lester Brenhurst – Ten

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Four

  Lester Brenhurst – Eleven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Five

  Lester Brenhurst – Twelve

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Six

  Lester Brenhurst – Thirteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Seven

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Eight

  Lester Brenhurst – Fourteen

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Forty Nine

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty One

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty Two

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty Three

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty Four

  From The Journal Of Nate Charters – Fifty Five