G-Force (Book 1): G-Force

by Nye, Laine

  Brad was equally unaware that both the principal's and the secretary's doors shut hard without him touching them. Now she was really irritated. That rude student should never be slamming doors at school.

  Outside he walked past cars in the staff parking lot on his way to the sidewalk near the road. The three cars nearest him lifted up nearly three feet off the ground. One of them was pulled toward Brad several feet until it was part way onto the grass as the other two settled back to the ground. Then that car also dropped back down but much harder than the first two had done. It bounced on its wheels. Fortunately, no one saw this phenomenon. The car alarm was activated. A loud beeping was initiated. Brad completely ignored the sound coming from behind him just like everyone does when they hear a car alarm. Mrs. Tyler was soon rushing outside to see who was stealing her car.

  Brad walked for a long time down the streets of Clearwater. He contemplated everything about Milo Weathers that he could think of. The events with Linda and Justin coursed through his mind. The bullying and intimidation he had been forced to swallow. Milo's broken arm and the perpetual threat even while his arm was in a cast.

  Then Milo's death; He never meant to hurt him severely. He certainly did not mean to kill him. All he wanted was relief from the nightmare he was forced to live in. He wanted to stop the bullying once and for all with just enough rough stuff to make his bully leave him alone. But in his inexperience with the gravity control thing, he had gone too far. How could he have known? He felt guilty about the death but he did not feel responsible for it. How could those two contradictory thoughts be implanted so deep in his psyche at the same time?

  He feared what his parents would think of him if they knew what he'd done. He feared that the police might find a way to charge him with murder or maybe manslaughter. He feared the student body finding out just like Linda had done. He was afraid that doctors and researchers would want to lock him up for studies and he would never be free. And he feared Linda might contact more people at the school that she knew to tell them what she knew about Brad. Would they believe her? How could they?

  There were three people on the planet earth who knew that Brad had this unique gift. There was Linda, himself and of course Albert Belasco; The man who had brought this change upon him. But even Albert did not necessarily know what ability Brad had received. He had not been there to see Brad use it. Albert only knew that he caused Brad to receive some kind of ability. He couldn't know what it was. Could He? Either way, only three people knew. He could not stand to have anyone else know. He had been called a freak and a monster. That hurt him. He did not want more of that kind of treatment.

  And thinking of Albert, how did he know that whatever ability Brad received from that hole would actually help against bullies? Albert had received new specialized attributes from his experience with the mysterious hole. One of his talents was to grip a person's hand and exchange memories with them. Wow! That would have helped Brad a lot in a confrontation. Okay bully who wants to pound my head into the ground, I want to shake your hand so you can learn all about me and then you won't want to pulverize me. Right? Nope that wasn't going to work. Albert does have the ability to run at incredible speed for such an old guy. Yup that would do it. I could run like a chicken from every confrontation. That way every bully that is ever after me can tell about what a coward I am but I can sure run fast!

  Running fast is probably a few steps above getting beat up but a person can only take so many blows to his self-esteem and running away and being belittled for it does not improve one’s self esteem. That would not be favorable either.

  So how did Albert know that Brad would get the kind of ability that could protect him from bullies? Then Brad remembered that Belasco was abnormally strong. The way he plucked Brad off a moving bike by his belt and left him dangling at his side while he went down into the ditch to get Brad's bike, carried both at the same time, one in each hand. That would have definitely been helpful. Did Albert get that ability along with his speed or did it come to him separately?

  Doesn't matter. Being abnormally strong would have been better in Brad's mind than the whole gravity control thing. He imagined having great strength and completely overpowering Milo in a fight and leaving him whipped and doing it in front of the student body. That brought a smile to his face.

  That was one ability he could have used. Not this curse he was left stuck with. Because after Milo's death he did feel a little bit like a monster, just like Linda had said. He had to admit that to himself. Maybe it really was Brad's fault that Milo had died. Brad could have just lifted him off the ground about 7 feet and just kept bouncing him up and down until he got Milo to say “Uncle!”

  It was too late to do it that way. Too late for him to fix it. He also had to admit that he hated Milo more now than he had before. It was because of Milo that Brad was dealing with this nightmare which was even worse than when he was dealing with the bullying. And hating Milo made Brad feel guilty in another way.

  His time was up. If he wanted a ride back home on the bus, he needed to get back to school in the next half hour. He hurried on his way as he found that his concentration was now broken. He hoped he would not have to explain his absence from school when he returned tomorrow.

  He made his way back to school just in time to catch his bus. He was the last one to board. He sat quietly, feeling depressed all the way to his place.

  One week later, still depressed and struggling against the nightmare that was Milo Weathers death... And Life, Brad had a letter waiting for him on his bed when he got home from school. He picked it up with only the mildest curiosity about who had sent him a letter. His emotional state caused him to be increasingly emotionless except for his depression. He sat on the bed and opened the letter with little interest, paying no attention to the return address or postmark. He thought later that it was entirely possible that he would have thrown the letter away without opening it if he had been paying attention.

  It started out with 'Dearest Brad.' He flipped to the last page of the letter and saw who had sent it. Linda Day. If she had not started the letter in that verbiage, he would still have thrown it away but somehow using the term 'dearest' threw him. Now he wanted to know why this girl who had betrayed him would write such words.

  He read the letter; “I just had to write you this letter my sweet friend. I just feel awful how I mistreated you. You were such a good friend to me and Brad, I don't know exactly how to say this so I'll just go ahead and admit it. I love you.” That's how you love people? Brad thought.

  “I should never have turned my back on you when you defended yourself against Milo. I know now that if you had taken no action he would have seriously hurt you. I saw him pick on a lot of kids since I first met him years ago but I never saw him show as much hatred for his chosen victims as he had for you. I am so sorry that I condemned you for your actions, I will never understand in my entire life how you did what you did. It is still mind boggling to me.

  But to call you a monster for defending yourself with this very strange ability that you have was just plain wrong. Then I heard about Milo's strange death and I immediately blamed you for it.” Yeah. You were right. I'm a killer now Linda. “I still believe you had something to do with it but I never should have written that letter to the principal telling him my suspicions. If you were there when Milo died, if you were involved, I can only believe that he was once again attacking you and you once again defended yourself.” No. Actually we were engaged in a friendly game of chess while discussing taking a house by the sea together so we could be best buddies.

  “I know how kind and gentle in nature you are Brad. I saw that only from a distance after my family moved to Macon. You are not vindictive or hateful like Milo was.” You have no idea how vindictive I could become Linda. Just a few more pushes from people like you and Milo and I will have to enroll in a high school for terrorists. “If you did cause his death, it had to be an accident. I just can't see you deliberately killing him.”
<
br />   Tears came to his eyes at that point. I would never, ever kill someone on purpose!

  “I was so angry, and indignant with you that when I learned from Roxie (I don't think you knew her) that Milo was dead I wanted to lash out at you. I wanted you to get into trouble if you took someone's life.

  “The other day I was driving my dad's car downtown and I almost hit an 8-year old boy who darted in front of me. I barely missed him but I lost control when I swerved and sideswiped another car. I almost killed that kid Brad. I would never do that on purpose. I couldn't stop shaking for hours.” Now you know what if feels like. Almost. “That was when I realized the same was true with you. I hope you haven't been arrested.” Huh? “I hope you're not in trouble because of me. Not in trouble at all.

  My mind has been circling around and around about you. I was afraid to admit to you when I was very attracted to you and then I began to love you. You probably have a hard time believing that after the way I treated you.” A little hard to grasp, yeah. “It is true though. I love you Brad!” The way you manifest your love is very inspiring. Can I back over you with my mom's car? Now that's love! “If you ever happen to run into me somewhere I hope you will be kind to me like you used to be. I hope you will forgive me.”

  Brad's chest hurt with the grief he was feeling from her words. No more sarcasm was forthcoming. She was reaching deeper into him then he thought she would ever be able to do.

  “I just don't know what else to say to you now. I messed up a really good relationship and then had to move away with my family, never able to repair it. I would if I could. I made it worse with my letter to the school.

  “If you want to write back to me, I would welcome it. Even if you told me how mad you are at me. I miss you. Take care of yourself and try, try, try to hide that strange energy that you have. I don't want anyone else to attack you like I did. Maybe someday you could explain to me what it is that you do. I am overwhelmingly curious about it now that I have settled down. Just know that in the end, I do care about you. Love; Linda Day”

  Tears ran down Brad's face. “It's a little late now. Don't you think Linda?” He said bitterly. He dropped the letter on the floor and laid back on his pillow. He struggled with conflicting emotions. Knowing that she cared should have made a bigger dent in his ever-thickening iron shield that blocked everything out. But she had only added to his hurt and outrage. “I have got to get out from under this pressure!” he said to himself. “I'll never make it if I don't.” He never answered her letter.

  Chapter Five

  It was a Saturday just a few weeks after Brad turned 17. And, it was also moving day. They were leaving Florida and going back to Utah. Brad had begun his growth spurt and was quickly passing his mother in height. He got his driver's license much later than his peers had but he was proud that he received it. He had been allowed to take a car out a few times already. It had been a good distraction for him. Something to take his mind off the trauma from school. Brad had said goodbye to Justin. They were both uncomfortable how to explain their feelings at parting since it would be permanent. They said their goodbyes and reluctantly separated. Their close friendship severed by Brad moving away.

  Brad's father was leaving the position as a liaison and adviser in Intelligence at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa. He had worked most of his adult life for the DIA; The Defense Intelligence Agency. Before that, while still living in Utah, Steven Shaw had worked with the 141st Military Intelligence Battalion out of Orem, Utah. He worked as a civilian at both of these jobs. Because of the specialties he had learned at the DIA, the Department of Defense had been willing to let him transfer back to Utah at his request. His years spent in the DIA were in the Clandestine HUMINT Service or Human Intelligence Services. This position had led him to overseas assignments. Several times, he was involved with volatile situations where he was in danger. Now he just wanted to take his son back to the place that he had considered home most of his life.

  Brad's parents felt that the only recourse they had was to remove their son from the school, the condo and everything that might keep his mind on the large boy named Milo. Moving back to Utah could provide the healing effect for Brad they were seeking.

  Grief counselors had come to the school the day after the incident on the football field but few seemed upset by Milo's death except for a limited number of students who saw the drama play out through the windows with the paramedics shocking the dead body with the defibrillator. Most of those who knew him were relieved that he was no longer around to victimize them.

  Though Brad was the most conflicted, he refused to see the grief counselors. What could he say? “He was picking on me so I made him really heavy and he died!” They wouldn't believe him. There would be more counseling, more suspicion about his mental health and Brad figured that he would end up in a mental ward or something. If they did believe him, or he proved it to them, then they would lock him up to study him. That was Brad's conclusion anyway. So, he kept it all to himself. Sometimes he just thought he was being too dramatic about the whole thing. But it haunted him continually.

  And the idea that they would keep him against his will worried him enough to silence him. His parents had him see a psychologist because they observed how differently he was behaving; how quiet he had become. Brad refused to open up with the counselor. An incorrect diagnosis was sure to follow. Brad's mom, Kate, saw no difference in him after the sessions and canceled the remaining appointments.

  It was seven months into the school year when the decision to go back to Utah was made. Steve came into his son's room looking earnestly at Brad who was lying on his bed. “Brad, I want to talk with you, son. Not talk at you. I need both of us engaged in this conversation.”

  His voice was kind and imploring. Brad could see the look of concern in his eyes. He had never locked them out until he met Albert Belasco. Then the tornado happened, and now this thing with Milo. He had always been sure of his parents love for him, and he had not rebelled against them as so many his age were doing.

  “Will you talk with me?” asked his father.

  Brad nodded. “You mean about Milo Weathers,” he said knowingly.

  “Was he a friend?”

  “No!”

  “Did you know him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why were you so upset about his death? Was it what you saw the paramedics doing to save his life?”

  “Sort of, Brad replied.

  “What else son? What made it so hard for you?”

  Brad sighed, “Do you remember the day you dropped me off at school?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was the day he died.”

  “I know. I also know that he was found near the area where you walked through the field. The police said it looked as if he had been there for several hours. Did you see him when you were walking past the area?”

  “He wasn't there before me, Dad. He came on the field behind me.”

  Were you there when he died?”

  “I don't know. But I was there just before.”

  “Okay, what happened?”

  “He was a bully and a lot bigger than me too. He had been stalking me since the first day of school.”

  “Did you fight him?”

  Brad shook his head, “He'd have killed me, Dad.”

  “But you had a confrontation,” Brad's father stated.

  “Yes.”

  “Come on son; give me more than just yes, no, or shaking your head. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you respect me?”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  “Then please open up with me. I love you and am trying to help you.”

  “I know.”

  “Well?”

  “He tried to get me that morning, and I was able to stay out of his reach.” Brad knew what he was saying was partly true. “He tried over and over to grab me, but I wouldn't let him.”

  So now Brad had outright lied to his father but still stayed as close to
the truth as he dared. He hated knowing that he was keeping secrets from his parents. One day he might feel confident enough to tell or show them what he could do. But not now. Not tonight. He wasn’t sure yet if he should ever let anyone know. Look how Linda Day had acted when she figured it out.

  “He didn't get a chance to hurt you then?”

  “No. I wouldn't let him get close enough.”

  “Okay Brad. I'm glad you're talking with me. Do you think it was over exertion that killed him? From chasing you?”

  “It might have been,” Brad answered. “Probably so. He was really big.”

  “Do you feel it was your fault that he is dead?” Steve asked with probing eyes.

  “Yes, I do. Because...” Brad's eyes filled with tears and his chin started quivering. Overwhelming emotions prevented him from speaking. His father knew that he needed to change the subject so his son could calm down.

  “Brad, let me tell you a story that happened a long time ago. I went to Ogden High School when I was growing up. One day, I was running across the front lawn of the school. I was late for class. As I ran by this one guy, he suddenly lunged at me and pushed me so hard that I staggered into some bushes that scratched me all up. Well, I came out fighting mad. I yelled at him. “What did you do that for, idiot?” He just stood there with his arms folded staring at me with this nasty grin on his face. He wasn't the least bit concerned about the anger he could see in me.

  “That's when I realized who he was. This kid had a reputation of having taken professional boxing lessons. He was known to be strong, fast and unafraid. I knew my safest course of action was to turn and walk away'.

  “He started following and said, “Did you call me an idiot?” I didn't respond. I just kept walking. It didn't help. For the next several months, every time I ran into him he would stop me and challenge me to a fight that I knew I could not win. Going to school became a nightmare for me.'

  “The last time I saw him was a few days before we graduated. He walked up to me and said, “Hey Steve, I think it's time we ended this thing.” All the anger and fear and frustration from being intimidated came back to me in a rush. After all those months of me backing down, the last thing he expected from me was to take a swing at him. I hit him so fast and hard, he didn't even get his fists up. I heard a loud cracking sound, and he went down backwards hitting his head on the sidewalk. His eyes rolled up into his head, and I just walked right on by him. He was lying there unconscious.”