G-Force (Book 1): G-Force

by Nye, Laine

  He stepped directly under what he believed to be his son and as soon as he did so he began to lift off the ground. Upward he went trying to keep his balance, trying not to tip to one side or another. Eventually, he was up as high as the person, and indeed it was his son. He reached over and touched him. “Brad?” He asked.

  Nothing in all his training had prepared him for a moment like this. Brad woke up and turned his head toward his father. “Uh, Hi Dad,” he said sheepishly.

  “Son, what is going on? Why are you up here? How are you up here? Why am I up here?” He turned and looked at the lawn mower and asked, “Why is it up here?”

  Brad smiled. “I'm mowing the lawn?” He asked jokingly.

  “Brad! Tell me what's going on!”

  Brad sighed. “Okay Dad. Do you want to hear the story up here or down on the ground?”

  “You're controlling this? Making it happen?”

  Brad nodded. He'd stayed out here too long. He wondered if a part of him was hoping he would be discovered, so he could get some of the weight of this burden off his shoulders by revealing his secret.

  “Put us down then.” His father said.

  They slowly drifted down to the ground along with the lawn mower.

  “Touchdown,” Brad said as they landed. He was still prone and his dad helped him to his feet.

  Steve could see a sparkle in his son’s eyes even in the dark. He knew from Brad's manner that he was used to this, this, whatever it was that was going on.

  “Okay Brad. Talk.” Steve demanded.

  Brad told him first about meeting Albert Belasco and the strange hole in the ground that Brad had been placed over where he found himself floating uncontrollably. He told him how something had happened as a result of him hovering over the hole and that Brad had absorbed this incredible new ability. He told him about the tornado and how that was the first time he had used this ability because he had not been aware of it until that day. “I was practicing floating in the living room when I knocked mom's chandelier off the hook. It was an accident.”

  Brad's father was incredulous. He led his son over to a couple of lawn chairs to sit and asked Brad to clarify. “So, you were actually pulled off the balcony by the twister and pulled into it?”

  “Yes. Then this instinct in me just took over. I didn't know I could do it until it happened.”

  “And you never fell to the ground,” Steve stated, looking for confirmation.

  “Nope. I stayed up on the side of the wall and then I made myself slide over to the balcony and lifted up and over the top of the rail.”

  “Brad, that is impossible!”

  Brad nodded emphatically in agreement. “So is your floating up to greet me a while ago.”

  Steve sat back in awe mulling everything over in his mind. “Is this thing you do somehow connected with Milo Weather's death?” Brad nodded again. “That was why I felt so guilty. I didn't mean to cause any permanent injury to him. I just wanted to make him understand that he could not continue to bully me. I had lifted him off the floor in school several weeks before that. I left while he was hovering against the ceiling then I let him fall. He broke his arm when he hit the floor.”

  “Brad, this is a very grievous situation! His father said. “What did you do to him that killed him?”

  Brad looked at his father for a time while he got his emotions under control. “I increased the gravity under him,” he answered. “Every time he tried to get up, I put more and more g-force under him until he couldn't even lift his head. The whole time it was happening, he was threatening me that he was going to kill me. I was afraid of him because of how large he was. And I was so mad! I just kept making him heavier and heavier until he couldn't do anything to me, not even threaten me. I left, and the next thing I knew there was an ambulance coming for him. I guess the school cop found him out there and called it in. I went back out when I heard the sirens and saw them trying to save his life. They had turned him over and his face was all purple and black and his eyes were a blackish red color. He looked like a monster to me. I was totally scared of what I was seeing and knew that I was to blame.”

  Steve nodded slowly, with painful understanding of what his son had gone through and what he had caused.

  “His face and eyes were that color because all the increased gravity pulled all of his blood to the side he was laying on,” he told Brad. “He had been face down, hadn't he?”

  “Yes.” Brad answered slowly; the horror of the moment was still in his voice these several months later. “I don't know why I thought I could teach him a lesson, so he'd leave me alone. I didn’t dare let him know that it was me that could do these things to him, so how was he supposed to know to stay his distance from me?” Brad shook his head slowly then added, “He died for nothing!”

  Steve struggled with his thoughts. He needed to make sure his son knew how serious this death was but he did not want to cause irrevocable guilt. His son needed to comprehend the seriousness of the situation, and yet, he already may have suffered immeasurably within himself. Steve thought that if it had been a gun in Brad’s hand that killed Milo; he would have known that pulling the trigger would result in death, and Brad would be fully complicit in the killing. Likewise, if Brad was old enough to drive a car, and he was drunk and hit someone, (very unlikely for Brad to drink) he would know it was his fault it happened. The problem Steve struggled with was how could Brad know what this ability could do. There was no history of a situation like this that Brad could have drawn from to make a better decision than he did. Yet a life had been taken just the same.

  “You wanted to stop him permanently If you could,” Steve stated.

  “Yes, but not that way.”

  “I know son. It's not in you to kill or maim. Yet still, we have a death here that has to be accounted for.”

  “Am I supposed to go to jail or something?” Brad asked.

  “Did you mean to pin him to the ground?” Steve responded.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you mean for him to die?”

  “No!” Brad cried emphatically.

  “Was it truly an accident?”

  “Yes, Dad, yes!” Brad wailed.

  Steve let out a long heavy sigh. “No. Jail is not the answer.”

  “Should I tell his parents what I did?”

  Steve thought for a moment in a heavy silence. “No. No, they would never believe you.”

  “What if I showed them what I can do?”

  “Then the whole world would find out what you can do. They would never keep it quiet. The whole thing would spin out of control. They would not get the satisfaction of justice because in one way or another, the government would get involved and our family, and theirs, would never have a normal day again. They wouldn’t incarcerate you; they would probably put you in the military. You would be made into a weapon or studied endlessly to find out how they could use your ability as a weapon.”

  They were silent for a while. Steve looked up at the stars. Brad stared into the blackness of the night. A shooting star flew by that caught their attention then burned itself out. Steve struggled to comprehend while also giving his son empathy and understanding which was ironic. He could barely understand this himself.

  “So, tell me about these bad guys in the park. It was you who stopped them wasn't it?” Steve hoped that if they could shift directions with this conversation, some of Brad's pain could be lessened.

  Brad smiled through tears. “Yeah. I stopped them good!”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “When they started chasing us, Mom thought we could outrun them. We probably could have too. But by the time we would have got in the car, they probably would have had us surrounded. We were so scared. When mom dropped her keys, we lost our head start. I had been afraid to use my ability ever since Milo had died, so I had done nothing up to this point. Then, this instinct in me just took over and suddenly I pulled the gravity out from under them and they went tumbling up in the air. I let them drop ag
ain, and boy did they get torn up!”

  Steve chuckled. “So, you became the unknown hero.”

  “I guess so,” Brad said humbly.

  “You said it was instinct. You didn't have to think about it? It just happened?”

  “Yeah”

  “And was it instinct when Milo threatened you on the field?”

  “Yes. At first. But then I got really ticked and made things much worse than my instinct had.”

  “So, you seem to have some sort of self-preservation instinct that protects you when you’re in danger. This ability just takes over.”

  Brad nodded his head slowly, thoughtfully. “I guess that's it. I hadn't really thought about it that way.”

  “Well that could be a really good thing at times Brad. This is obviously a gift that you have been given, but you also have to show self-restraint with it.”

  “I've tried. Ever since Milo. In fact, I tried before Milo died also. I was always holding back from nailing him to the wall when he threatened me.

  “Well then, that's good. I'm proud of you, son. Now you have got to let go of the guilt over this Weathers kid.

  Brad decided to tell him a little more.

  “The reason I was floating out here tonight was because sometimes when I fall asleep or am super relaxed, it just happens to me. Some nights I wake up against the ceiling in my room.”

  “What do you do when that happens?”

  “Well, like tonight, sometimes I'll just let it happen. But other times I force myself back down to the bed. Tonight, it just felt good up there in the night air. It's so warm and pleasant.”

  “That's why you started sleeping with your door closed at night.” His father observed.

  Brad nodded.

  And so, it was that Brad's Father was told the entire story from beginning to end. The burden of the death of Milo Weathers had been lightened for Brad after he had defended his Mom against the creeps in the park. Now that he was telling his Dad the whole truth, he felt even better.

  At the end of Brad's story, his father was still shaking his head in near disbelief. If he had not been caught up in Brad's null gravity field, he would not have believed any of this. Not even from his son.

  “Tell me this Brad.” He asked. “If we were in a null gravity field up there, how come we didn't just keep on drifting higher and higher in the air?”

  “Because I can subconsciously control it when I need to. I can also control it directly anytime I want to. Then there are the times of pure instinct.”

  “We're gonna have to tell your mom about everything as well. You know that son.”

  “Yeah. I know.” He said. “Dad, you said that Milo’s death would have to be accounted for.”

  “I know. But I don’t know how to do that quite yet,” Steve said. A look of confusion and dread was on his face. He wondered if he would ever be able to figure out how to deal with this appropriately. He knew that he would need to consult his wife about this moral dilemma. “We should talk about it later. I have to think about this.”

  Brad nodded his agreement, and they went inside the house. Steve had his hand on Brad's shoulder as they walked. Still dumbfounded, he kept looking back at the spot in the air where he had found his son. He was still trying to accept some very difficult facts. The whole family retired to bed shortly thereafter.

  It turned out though that Steve could not sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking over everything that his son had revealed to him. He was trying to wrap his mind around the knowledge that his son had killed someone. In the several dangerous situations that he had been involved in overseas while working for the DIA, he had never been put in a position where he had to take a life. He struggled with it happening to his son for a long time. Finally, he turned over and gently woke up his wife.

  “Sweetheart, you know how you like to wake me up in the middle of the night to talk with me?”

  “Yes,” she answered sleepily.

  “Well, it's my turn.”

  She stretched and looked at him. “What is it honey.”

  Steve told her everything he had just learned from his son and then told her some of his own thoughts and conclusions on the matter. Like him, she was dumfounded and now wide awake. She listened quietly to everything he said before she spoke, and then started asking questions.

  "You are telling me that our son can control gravity?"

  "Well... not all of it, but... Yes. Steve responded.

  "You believe him?" She asked.

  "Honey, like I told you, I saw and experienced it."

  "You were actually flying?"

  "More like floating. We didn't go anywhere but up."

  She looked intently at his face. His expression was so earnest, grave and thoughtful. She knew he would not be making this up and yet... "And you are telling me that he stopped those creeps that tried to attack us?"

  "Yes. He did."

  "And, he killed this boy Milo that he was so upset about." She stated it as a fact, but she was really asking Steve for confirmation.

  "That is what I am saying. Yes."

  She threw the covers back, got off the bed and began to pace back and forth. "I am having a very hard time believing this." She stated, almost as if she was talking to herself.

  "He can demonstrate for you if you would like," Steve told her.

  "No. He is not putting me up in the air like that." Then she stopped pacing for a moment to look at her husband. "If his ability killed someone, why would you even ask me to let him 'float' me?" “I didn't say that he should raise you off the ground. I asked if you would like him to demonstrate for you." Her tone had sounded accusatory and that raised his anger and defensiveness that was replacing calm patience.

  She put her hands up like she was trying to stop a car that was coming at her. "No. no, I don't want anything to do with this." Then a look of hurt and fear crossed her face and in a near pleading voice she looked at her husband and said, "Somebody died because of this thing he can do!"

  "I know that Brad did not mean to kill that boy. So do you. Yet He has a grave responsibility on his shoulders. Severe consequences usually happen to someone who takes a life."

  "Steve, if it was just an accident, I don't want anyone coming after my boy!" She was nearly yelling these words at him.

  "I don't either honey. But I feel like you and I need to figure out how to deal with this death. We need to know what can be done about it."

  "Nothing can be done about it. It's over!" She said in a particularly defensive voice. But it was her son she was defending, not herself. Her motherly instincts of protecting her young had taken over.

  "I'm afraid now Steve. I am afraid for our son!"

  Steve got off the bed, went to her and put his arms around her. "I'm scared for him too." He said in a comforting voice. He was beginning to realize that he could not talk with her about the death of Milo Weathers any longer. He would have to wait until she had time to absorb everything. Her distress levels, with all this new bizarre information, was causing her too much emotional upheaval. She began to cry and held Steve tight. "He has always been such a good boy." She said between sobs. "I don't want anything bad to happen to him. I love him too much."

  "I know Kate. I know how much you love him. I know how hard this is for you. We'll talk about it more later, okay? We can't fix the world in one conversation. We shouldn't even try. Let's just calm down and get some sleep before this night is over."

  But they continued to talk about this strange ability Brad had acquired until late into the night with Steve deftly dodging the subject of the death of Milo as he tried to calm his wife down. They talked the matter over until very late into the night. Finally, she said, “I am very hungry and need to get a snack.”

  She rubbed the tears out of her red eyes. Getting up, she walked down the hall towards the kitchen passing Brad's door. His door was open. Then she stopped abruptly, stepped back and looked into the bedroom.

  “Steve?” She called out.

  He
jumped out of bed and came quickly. Brad had elected to sleep with his door open after talking with his father and they both now stood in the doorway looking at Brad whose body was against the ceiling. His blankets hung down from his prone body.

  “That's how I found him tonight in the yard.” Steve whispered. Kate Just stood there, mouth agape, not answering. Finally, she shook her head and walked away from the door toward the kitchen motioning for her husband to follow.

  “That is the spookiest thing I've ever seen.” She stated. “He looks like a ghost floating around the bedroom.”

  When they went back past his room a half hour later, several objects in the room were also floating at various heights.

  “Do you want to know how it feels to float?” Steve whispered to Kate. “Go stand underneath him and you'll be up there with him.”

  “No thanks.” She answered swiftly shaking her head.

  They went back to their own bedroom and did not sleep for the rest of the night.

  “I want Brad to take me to this hole tomorrow,” Steve said. “We can finish unpacking another time.”

  “You two can go,” she responded. “I don't think I'm ready for all of this yet.”

  When Brad got up in the morning, his dad came in to talk to him. “Change of plans Brad. I want to go to see that hole you described. Let's get some breakfast and head up to Huntsville.”

  “Okay Dad. Can we take the divide over?”

  Brad was referring to the North Ogden Divide. It was a narrow road that climbed steeply, skirting the edge of the mountain it was carved out of. Then it dropped into a valley on a steeper decline where Huntsville was located. Going up the mountain, there was a wide canyon to the right side. The road was right against a cliff with no room for guardrails, but it offered a panoramic view of a large part of the land it lay above. When first leaving the divide, one soon found himself in a small town called Liberty, then traveled through another called Eden and finally to Huntsville.