“No!” John yelled from afar. He made the officer’s gun rip out of his hand. He stared at the gun and it tore into a million tiny pieces of metal.
“We’re the good guys,” Chloe told the frightened officers.
“Don’t worry, we’re just trying to help,” Donny nodded to them.
“What are you?” one of the officers asked.
“We’re superheroes, what else?” Donny said jokingly.
“Come on guys!” Clark shouted. “Let’s go!”
Clark took off into the air and all of his masked friends followed behind him.
“Alright,” Clark yelled through the air when they were all far away from the shootout scene. “I’m getting a report of a group of troublemakers downtown. Not far from union square. Let’s go.”
They flew off to the downtown area and perused the perimeter until they came across the sight of numerous black-clad armored criminals. One of them had a flamethrower while another had a large automatic rifle. The streets were empty as they wreaked havoc across the entire block.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, little masked heroes!” yelled one of the men.
Clark swooped down and made the tip of the criminal’s gun bend downward. He was unable to shoot from it so he threw it to the ground. The other superheroes descended onto the street and Charles used his powers to pull the flamethrower backpack off of the second goon.
Clark punched the criminal who had the gun and knocked him to the ground. Then Clark grabbed him by the collar as he lied on the cement.
“What do you want from us?” Clark yelled. “Why are you doing this!?”
Chloe used her powers to pin the second criminal against a wall.
“Don’t you go anywhere,” Chloe said to him.
The man who Clark was on top of laughed and pointed his hand out. Clark punched the criminal in the face which bloodied the man’s nose. Then Clark turned around to see what the man was pointing at. Sarah gasped. On the other end of the street corner was another man wearing black armor. He held a bazooka in his arms and pulled the trigger. A small rocket propelled out of the bazooka and went flying toward them. Donny grabbed Chloe while Sarah tried to pull Clark away from the criminal on the ground.
John held his hand out and the rocket stopped in midair. It turned around as John redirected it back to the armored criminal. The man wearing black began running as he saw the rocket shoot after him. Suddenly the rocket reached him and exploded. The criminal was blown to smithereens and a large portion of the block was flowing with fiery debris.
“What the hell was that?” Donny asked.
“They meant to get us here,” Clark said. “They wanted us to be here.”
“Why?” Chloe asked.
“I guess they were trying to kill us,” Sarah suggested.
John said nothing; he merely assessed the devastation around him.
“Shit,” Charles said. “One had a bazooka and another had a flamethrower. Find out who they work for.”
The man who Chloe had pinned to the wall remained silent. Chloe blinked her eyes and the man dropped to the ground and screamed in pain.
“Hope that didn’t hurt too much,” Chloe snarked. “Now tell us who sent you to kill us!”
The man continued to moan in pain. Before they could inquire any further, the sirens of police cars blared through the streets. Cops pulled up to the block, got out of their cars, and drew their guns.
“Put your hands up and lie on the ground!” an officer with a megaphone yelled.
“We’re not the bad guys!” Clark shouted back.
“I said hands up!” the officer yelled through the megaphone.
“We just stopped these guys from destroying the city!” Donny yelled.
“As masked vigilantes, each of you is under arrest,” the officer went on.
John placed his hand out toward one of the officers and the officer’s gun was immediately yanked out of his hands. The gun then flew into John’s hand.
“Fire!” yelled the officer with the megaphone.
Each of the officers pulled their triggers and fired off their handguns. Bullet after bullet shot toward the six masked superheroes but John was making the bullets stop in midair.
“You gotta teach me that one, John!” Charles yelled.
Hundreds upon hundreds of bullets were suspended in the air between the six teenagers and the cops that were attempting to either kill or capture them. All of the cops’ guns jammed once they were out of ammunition. Then John placed his hand down. Hundreds of bullets dropped to the ground. The police officers were in utter shock.
John threw his hands out again and two of the police cars shot into the air. The cars came falling down as the officers ran out of the way to avoid being crushed.
“Come on!” Clark yelled. “Let’s go!”
The six teenagers lifted into the air and flew off as the police officers recuperated.
“Where are we going?” Sarah shouted as they flew east.
“Back to Mecha!” Clark said.
Minutes later they arrived back to the warehouse. They entered through the backdoor as they always did and took a moment to catch their breath.
“What the hell was that!?” Clark shouted to John.
“I was protecting us,” John said quietly.
“By lifting their cars into the air!?” Clark said as he removed his goggles.
“By stopping each of us from being shot to hell and back!” John yelled as he pulled his domino mask off. “And now, Clark, you see how authority treats you when you try to do what’s right! It’s thrown right back in your fucking face! How much longer until you remove the blindfold that prevents you from seeing reality. I will no longer serve as a savior for those who reject me.”
“Calm down, John,” Charles said.
“I will not calm down!” John yelled even louder before addressing all of them in the warehouse. “Do none of you understand what we are capable of? These are the powers that grant us immortality and we squander it on the undeserved! I will no longer sit back in silence. I will no longer serve a role in this superhero nonsense. Don’t you see? We are prophets. We can do what others cannot. These powers are here to guide us. We are not meant to be the slaves of an unhinged society.”
John lowered his voice as the others looked on. He walked toward the exit and said to them, “We were made, not as equals, but as superiors.”
John slammed the door shut behind him as he left.
“Whoa,” Donny said. “Someone must’ve had a bad day.”
“I hope he’s okay,” Chloe said.
It was late and they were tired so they all agreed to separate and head home. As he usually did, Clark snuck into his house through a window in the backyard. He removed his superhero outfit and lied down. He wanted to think about his football game on the following day and the event he planned for Sarah but instead he worried about John.
After Clark awoke the next morning on Thursday, he gave himself a moment to really process the decisions he had made over the past several weeks. Sure, he had made mistakes along the way but he felt that most of his actions were done in order to help others. He didn’t believe what John said the night prior was true and only hoped that John would soon come to his senses.
With the fresh start of a new day ahead, Clark was happy to greet Sarah when she arrived to his house that morning. He grabbed her by the hand and led her up to his room. Although she also voiced concerns about John, she was determined to remain in high spirits. When Clark promised her a big day ahead, Sarah told him she was happy to have things back to the way they once were. They enjoyed each other’s company as they spoke of where their relationship was headed. They were all smiles as they took to the air in rapturous flight a half hour later.
When they arrived at school, Clark kissed Sarah and told her he had business to attend to. Instead of spending the next few minutes together, they parted ways and Clark immediately headed for the room where band practice was held. It was a
large room at the far end of the school with double doors that were supposed to be sound proof. When Clark entered the room he found an array of students polishing their trombones, French horns, tubas, and drums.
“Hello, Clark!” said the kid who headed the band.
“Is everything set for tonight?” Clark asked.
“Yeah, it’s all a go.”
“Great!” Clark said. “I want it to be perfect for tonight.”
“Don’t worry,” the band leader told him. “Sarah’s going to love it.”
“Excellent. Then I’ll see you guys tonight,” Clark said as he shook the kid’s hand and hurried off. Clark went down another hall and walked into another classroom. This one was full of crafts. Students were using thick markers of various colors to decorate large posters.
“Hey Clark,” one of the students said.
“You guys still preparing the posters?” Clark asked.
“Yeah, we’re doing it just like you asked.”
“Great!” Clark said. “I can’t wait.”
“It will all be ready for tonight’s game,” the student told him.
Clark thanked them and quickly left the room. He took a look at the digital clock in the hallway and noticed that it was time for class to begin. So Clark went to his locker, grabbed the right book, and headed straight for his first period history class. He was relieved to see John when he entered the room. John was wearing his usual black trench coat and his pale face was largely obscured by his long blonde hair. Clark assumed John was brooding with his head held down─ and that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him.
“Hey, John,” Clark said. “Are you okay, buddy?”
John said nothing. He did, however, look over at Clark and nod his head.
“Well, uh, John. I’m sorry about what happened last night,” Clark said. “I just wanted to make sure there are no hard feelings between us.”
John turned his expressionless face away from Clark and shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m no longer a part of your group, Clark,” John said with his head down.
“Okay,” Clark said. “That’s fine. But I still want us to be friends.”
“Sure, Clark,” John said nonchalantly, his head still down.
“You seem to be a little melancholy today,” Clark tried to joke.
With his head still down, John chuckled. The history teacher, Mrs. Tessler, entered the room and began rummaging through various papers on her desk. The bell rang and she started her lecture.
“Today’s class will focus on the Wilmot Provisio,” said the teacher. “The Wilmot proviso of 1846 was an ill-advised provision introduced in the House of Representatives that attempted to answer sectional confrontation as a response to the Mexican War.”
Clark, along with the majority of the class, began to take notes while John did nothing. He seemed to have zoned out as the teacher went on and on about a topic that interested very few of them.
Roughly forty-five minutes into the first period history class, the teacher was interrupted during her lecture when the intercom came on.
“Hello, Mrs. Tessler,” said the voice over the intercom.
“Yes,” said the teacher.
“We need John Ahern to report to the front office immediately.”
“Okay,” the teacher said. “I’ll send him now.”
The intercom shut off and John stood up before grabbing his backpack. He looked at Clark and then his teacher before walking off and leaving the room. John walked slowly to the main office. He didn’t really care what any of the school authorities wanted him for. He did, however, think for a moment that he had been connected to the incident with the police. So moments later he entered through the glass door of the office and asked why they called for him.
“Am I in trouble?” John asked as he swept his hair to the side in order to keep it from blocking his vision.
“John Ahern?” the secretary asked. “No, you’re not in trouble. There’s just something we’d like to tell you in the principal’s office.”
The secretary pointed him to the office of Principal Hayes. John walked down the short hall and entered the office. Principal Hayes was sitting in his chair. A grave look was etched upon his face and standing next to the principal was a law enforcement officer.
“John Ahern,” Principal Hayes said.
“Yes?” John answered.
“Please, sit down, son,” the principal said.
“What is this about?” John asked as he sat in front of the principal’s desk and dropped his backpack on the floor.
The principal looked up to the standing officer and then returned his eyes to John.
“I’m afraid,” the principal said, he gulped with a lump in his throat before continuing. “I’m afraid you’ve been called in here so we may deliver, with a heavy heart, some particularly bad news.”
“What is it!?” John asked.
The principal spoke slowly and quietly. “Your father passed away this morning.”
“What!?” John asked. His voice cracked and his arms trembled.
“I’m sorry, son,” the police officer said. “He died this morning of an apparent overdose. His parole officer visited your home around eight fifteen and found your father convulsing. By the time he was rushed to the hospital, he had passed away.”
“No,” John said, his voice trembling. “Please, no. He was getting better.”
John’s body remained tense. He gritted his teeth in anger yet his eyes welled up with tears.
“I’m so sorry, John,” Principal Hayes told him.
“I have no one,” John said as tears streamed down his face.
“Records show that your mother is deceased,” the officer said. “And because you are a minor with no relatives, I’m afraid that means you are now a ward of the state.”
“No!” John shouted with rage. He stood up and the entire room began to shake. The principal looked around in fear and held onto his seat. The desk in the office rose off the floor, papers and books began spinning throughout the room, and the chair John was sitting in lifted into the air and went flying directly at the police officer. The chair hit the officer and knocked him off his feet.
Every item that was whirling around the room fell to the floor and John ran out of the door. He ran out of the room past the secretary and then out of the school building. The police officer who he knocked over with the chair ran after him. John ran outside and into the woods and the officer followed after him. There was a loud swoop and John was gone. The officer looked around the woods and could find John nowhere. Unbeknown to him, John had taken flight.
With his arms outstretched John soared through the sky. The cool air had dried his face and wiped his tears away. But his sorrow remained. He flew faster and faster as if he were speeding to reach his destination within a certain time. Minutes later John swooped down and descended into a field of grass. He was across the tracks and in front of him was the old abandoned train station. He looked at the train station for a moment and then lifted himself into the air. John levitated over the top of the train station and lowered through the hole in the roof.
The inside of the train station was just as worn and dusty as it was when John took Andrew to it. John peered around the dark train station which was lit only by the light that shone through the hole in the roof. Then he wept once more. John closed his eyes as tears poured down his face. He dropped to his knees and begged for peace of mind.
“Please,” John cried out. “Why me? Why, mother? Why did you have to die? Why did my father have to die just as he was getting better? He told me things were going to be different. I thought we were going to be a family again.”
He punched his fists into the ground, creating a dent in the floor, and screamed as if he were in immense pain.
“Please!” John begged. “Listen to me, mother. I know you can hear me. Why do I have these powers if I can save no one? Why am I burdened with immortality if it means I have to sit by and watch everyone I love
perish? I could have saved you, mother. I could have saved you. And I could have saved my father.”
John placed his head down and sobbed. He cried until he could cry no more. And from the corner of his eye he saw a flicker of light. He raised his head and standing before him was his mother, Josephine. She was glowing like a beautiful phantasm. Her aura was soft just like her features. Her beautiful long blonde hair was just as John remembered it. And she wore a beautiful blue gown. It was exactly what she was wearing when John last saw her. Of course, this beautiful apparition existed only in John’s mind. But to John, she was the purest thought that he could ever imagine.
“Mother?” John said as he wiped away his tears.
“Yes, my son,” said his mother in a beautiful calming voice.
“Are you real?” he asked, still slumped over on his knees.
“I exist only to you, John. But I am real for you believe it so.”
“Please, mother,” he wailed. “Don’t ever leave me.”
“I will never leave you again, my son.”
“I miss you. I miss you so much.”
“And I miss you equally, John. My sweet Johnny.”
“I feel so weak,” John admitted.
“Yet you are so, so strong. You are capable of any feat on earth. Fore you are the prophet, John. You are the child that can make everything right. Your powers are there to guide you. You can counterbalance everything that has ever gone wrong. When you are ready, the unimaginable will become imaginable.”
“All I want is you,” John sobbed.
“And I am here for you.”
“But I don’t want you to leave. I need you so badly. I cannot live, I cannot function without you.”
“You are capable of anything, John.”
“I can bring you back?” John asked as he stood to his feet. He was awestruck by the very answer he knew he would hear.
“Yes,” his mother said. “Your gifts are sacrosanct and all-powerful.”
John reached his hands out and exalted himself. He shut his eyes tight and concentrated. Debris lifted off the ground. The tracks that lied in the train station uplifted. The seats that remained were uprooted from the cement floors. Bricks ripped themselves from the wall. Then John slowly opened his eyes. Everything fell back down and his mother still glowed in front of him. She had not returned; she remained a figment of his imagination.
Ascension (The Ascension Series) Page 21