Super Nobody (Alphas and Omegas Book 1)

by Brent Meske

Terrence Jackson was furious, and he was a man whose face was always a few steps away from the depths of fury itself. It was a look that came natural to him, like smiles did to Charlotte.

  “Let me OUT OF HERE!” the evil teacher shouted.

  “What’s going on?” Charlotte asked.

  “I don’t know.” Michael whispered.

  And he didn’t. The scene down below was not what you’d expect of a teachers’ meeting. It took five other teachers to hold Mr. Jackson down. He was thrashing around, and got his arm free just long enough to belt another teacher in the head.

  “Wozniak?”

  The old man’s head rocked back, but he held onto Mr. Jackson all the same, and they had him pinned down again soon. A surge of relief and disbelief swept through Michael at the sight. Somehow they’d figured it out.

  “Don’t be stupid, hold him tight Charles,” a new voice said. It was difficult trying to sort through all the teachers. Suddenly Mr. L’s bald head glinted in the light, and that smug grin appeared again. Well, Michael wouldn’t have figured him for the type of guy who was a hero, what with the large belly pressing against his horrible choice in plaid suit jackets. You just didn’t get that heroic vibe, unless it reflected off his shiny head, or the thick plastic frames of his glasses. His chin wobbled a bit as he talked.

  “How’s the headache Terrence?”

  “Let me up!”

  “Pretty nasty, I figure. I don’t know what’s happening to your head while I’ve got your ability, but it can’t be good.”

  “Just kill me!” Terrence breathed.

  “Oh,” Mr. L laughed, “No chance of that now. Really, don’t be so dramatic. I’m not here planning to kill anybody.”

  “Save it,” Terrence breathed. “Soon as I GET OUT OF HERE, I’m telling everyone you killed Johanna Lane.”

  Michael’s mind whirled. Terrence Jackson wasn’t the leader of the Omega Syndicate? He wasn’t even bad? No, that couldn’t be right. He was a real jerk. You didn’t just hurt kids without being a world-class jerk, but that didn’t make him a scheming psycho trying to take the whole town apart.

  And what was with the yelling?

  “It’s Mr. L,” Charlotte breathed. “He’s the guy. The Omega guy.”

  Mr. L was a couple of quarter pounders away from having a heart attack. He looked like he was about as dangerous and evil as Michael’s front lawn. But maybe, if you looked straight in his eyes, you’d see something wasn’t right.

  “Oh Terrence, you won’t be getting out of here any time soon. We have a lot of work to do at this little teachers’ meeting.” Yeah, now he definitely sounded a few a few chapters short of the whole story.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I think we should go,” Charlotte whispered.

  Yes, that sounded like a nice, cowardly plan that didn’t get them any answers. If a bunch of teachers with super powers weren’t going to do anything about this situation, Michael was guessing Mr. L had already used Terrence’s powers on all of them. Several of them were staring into space, and a few were sleeping at their tables. One of the art teachers was asleep on the floor.

  “I’m like a surgeon, Terrence,” Mr. L said, “Cutting for the very first time! This is going to be so much fun.” Next to him, Charlotte shuddered and mentioned something about a horrible reference. Michael started to back out from under the desk, careful not to put his butt too far up in the air and crash into something. The delighted, unhinged sound of Mr. L’s voice was frightening. He wasn’t cold, but goosebumps had popped up all over his arms.

  “Why’d you kill Johanna?” he asked. “She never hurt anyone.”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Mr. L laughed. “She was the only threat to me. In this whole town of super idiots, the only one. She and that Washington brat.” Michael froze where he was.

  Terrence actually laughed. “You’re imagining things, Archibald. Michael Washington is harmless.”

  “Imagining? I know he’s going to Activate, and I know what he’s going to become.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “A threat,” Mr. L said. “You take all the others in this town. I don’t care if they could crush the whole world, jump through electrical lines, talk to dolphins or have a campout on the moon. Only one power is a threat to us, Terrence.”

  “Walking through dreams doesn’t sound like a very dangerous ability. Sure you haven’t made a mistake? I’m sure you have. Why don’t we all take a deep breath, think about this, and walk away while we’re still good, law abiding citizens alright?”

  Mr. L threw back his head and howled laughter. Now Michael had it: Mr. L could be a mad scientist. All he’d need to do was get that hair around the back of his head to go silver and grow out all wild. And Terrence was definitely speaking in code. He was telling Michael to get away. Well, he didn’t listen to Terrence before, and wasn’t going to start listening now. Charlotte started pulling on his sleeve, but he pulled back.

  “Michael,” she warned, really low.

  He had to see this. He would pay to see Mr. Jackson get his.

  “Michael we need to go get some help.”

  Why, he thought. Just because there’s an army of mind-controlled Actives down there ready to tear Mr. Jackson apart? Pssh. Big deal. Terrence Jackson had hurt him, threatened him, basically tortured him. Michael had front row seats now. If only he had popcorn.

  “And you really think you’re going to win this? Are you really so deluded that you think you’ve got a chance to pull this off? What’s your next move, genius?”

  Mr. L snarled. “You said it yourself, this town is one flick away from destroying itself. All I’ve got to do is apply some pressure and the whole thing comes undone. And you, my good friend, can watch.”

  “I’m going,” Charlotte said at last. But she didn’t go. This was another of those times, those 'shark attack videos' times, where you couldn't look away. Some horrible part of your mind wanted to see, so even while you were screaming or telling yourself how awful it was, you didn't miss a second.

  “You Activated those kids, didn’t you? Trent and the others.”

  Mr. L’s widening smile was all the confirmation Mr. Jackson needed.

  “How? You can't steal synergism.”

  “But you can tell her when and how,” Mr. L said. “So I just borrowed it from you and gave Jessamine a couple of suggestions. Telepathy really is the greatest thing since sliced bread. There’s nothing you can’t do with it.”

  “You were trying to get that Washington kid killed weren’t you?”

  “Go on Mr. Mathematician,” Mr. L said. “You’ve put two and two together so far. You’re on a roll.”

  Instead Mr. Jackson laughed. “You failed then. You must have been pretty desperate to kill off a woman like Johanna Lane. If you thought a couple of kids would upset the balance here in town, you were sorely mistaken. Which is why you’re out in the open now. The coward’s plan went south. Now it’s desperation time, time for plan B, is that it?”

  Mr. L shook his head. “I would have thought you of all people would understand, Terrence. You set events in motion, you can’t always predict how they’re going to turn out in the end. Hit the cue ball, strike the one, hope the eight ball finds a pocket. Sometimes though, even the best pros miss a shot.”

  “And what number’s Washington?” Mr. Jackson said. A smile played over his face even though he was being held down by five mindless teachers. “Wait, let me guess... he’s the eight ball.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work,” Mr. L explained. “You see, I’m doing what I need to do right now, while you’re spouting off at the mouth. They’re all mine.”

  It was true. One by one, the dazed teachers were opening their eyes, sitting up straight, and moving around in stiff, zombie-like motions. They started to shuffle around the library, looking a lot like kids who had just been told off by their teachers. Eyes to the floor, they even bumped into each other at times.


  “Michael,” Charlotte begged. “We need to get out of here.”

  Michael tried telling himself Mr. Jackson deserved this, that it was the magical karma boulder rolling back onto him and ready to squash him flat. He couldn’t convince himself, though. He kept looking at the pain on Mr. Jackson’s face. People didn’t deserve to suffer like this at the hands of people like Mr. L. He’d learned that much in fifth grade against Trent, while he was still a plain old jerk instead of a super jerk.

  “All yours, eh? Everybody in town?” Jackson asked. “Right up until the moment you fall asleep. You don’t think you can keep this up forever, do you? Just until the real Omegas show up, right? The ones who have real powers? They’ll handle the situation for you. You’re just small potatoes.”

  And then he screamed.

  “The first trick is pain,” Mr. L said. “I used it first when I was trying to get the hang of your ability, just the little headaches and bodyaches. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to convince the mind that the body is in pain. It’s an easy trick. Everybody’s in pain every day. It starts from the first minute you’re in the world. And against a telepath, it’s the only trick that works.

  “Between you and me Terrence, I’m a little jealous you ended up with mind powers. The world’s unfair, huh? You could be the fat bald guy nobody really respects, who’s the laughing stock of the high school, and I could be the dark and dangerous hypnotist with no backbone for using his abilities.”

  He squinted, his smile broadened, and suddenly Terrence was screaming again. Cords stood out on his neck and spittle flew from his lips while he howled and thrashed. His face was already red, and started edging towards plum.

  Michael couldn’t leave him like that. Nobody deserved that, even if they’d done it to Michael just a couple of weeks ago. There was no question about going down there and smacking Mr. L around until he was unconscious. Up here there were just chairs and books.

  Chairs and books!

  “Michael—” Charlotte started.

  “Go talk to my grandfather,” he muttered. “I’ll distract him.”

  She just stared at him.

  “Trust me,” he said. “I know what I’m doing. When they’re not looking, you run.”

  Yeah, and if he was one of two people Mr. L really wanted dead, standing up and shouting ‘here I am’ was only going to get him killed faster. He just hoped that the Keys people and his grandfather’s people, and maybe even his dad would have a chance against Mr. L. You’d think that the most powerful Actives on the planet who swept up the world’s messes would do the trick, but Mr. Springfield was down there, Active and as useless as a one legged man in a butt-kicking contest. In fact, all Mr. L had to do was get behind him, and he wasn’t useless, he was a shield for the bad guy.

  What would his dad do against this? Mr. L was right, only another mind reader was going to even the odds. And whatever the crazy fat man thought, Michael was definitely not that mind reader.

  He sneaked over to the reference shelves. Up here there weren’t many books, but there were, amongst the study desks, a number of dictionaries and thesauruses.

  “Thesauruses,” he muttered, and picked one up. “What a silly word.” It had some good heft to it, but wasn’t hard enough. He settled on one of the old school encyclopedia Britannica volumes instead. W for Washington. You could probably kill someone with one of these things, it weighed half as much as he did with a nice cardboard cover, bound in leather.

  He was about to heave it over the glass railing when a cry went up. It sounded like the shriek of a wounded animal, but Michael froze mid-hurl. Near the stairwell a teacher was pointing at him and shrieking.

  He was getting detention for sure. He pulled the book up over his head like he was doing a soccer throw in and, as Mr. L turned to look at him, he let fly.

  Chapter 16 – Drone