The Kid Sensation Series Box Set

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The Kid Sensation Series Box Set Page 50

by Kevin Hardman


  For a second, both of us just stared at the locomotives roaring down the rails, and I was absolutely certain that there was some kind of malfunction. Then it dawned on me that this was intentional.

  I turned and took off, in search of the last elusive coin. My departure seemed to bring Dynamo back to himself, because a second later he was in motion…and right behind me. It seemed that this time, the last coin for each of us was located in the same place.

  Our trackers led us right up to the end of an area marked as “Pier 3,” a broad walkway that extended out over the waters of the bay. By that time, my speed had allowed me to pull away from Dynamo somewhat, so I stopped at the edge of the pier, noting that the tracker indicated that the last coin was below me.

  My costume was waterproof, but I still hadn’t planned on getting wet. Discretion being the better part of valor, I decided to check to make sure that coin number ten wasn’t simply taped to the underside of the pier or something.

  As I was squatting down and preparing to phase my hand through the pier, Dynamo showed up. He never hesitated, running straight at me like a crazed bull trying to gore a blind matador. I phased, thinking that perhaps – in single-minded pursuit of victory – he had somehow failed to see me. I needn’t have bothered.

  When he was about ten feet away, Dynamo suddenly leaped high into the air, jumping in an arc that I realized would take him over me and towards the water just off the edge of the pier. While airborne, he tucked his legs in and turned a flip directly overhead, and then straightened out as his body started its downward trajectory. He hit the water like an Olympic diver, barely creating a plop – despite still having the tracker in his hand. I couldn’t help smiling, thinking that I had to give the guy props for showmanship.

  A second later I realized that he’d had the right idea, as my search on the underside of the pier turned up nothing. The coin was undoubtedly submerged.

  So much for not getting wet. I leaped off the pier and into the water, probably far less gracefully than Dynamo had.

  Below the surface, it was disturbingly dark. I cycled my vision through the electromagnetic spectrum until I could see almost as well as in daylight, and then began swimming straight down towards the last coin, as indicated by the tracker.

  Arms and legs moving at super speed, I cut through the water as if fired from a gun. Ahead of me, on the floor of the bay, I could see Dynamo holding some kind of steel chest about the size of a loaf of bread. He ripped it open like it was paper, reached inside, and pulled out a silver coin.

  He dropped the remains of the case, the two halves slowly drifting down next to a similar case that was also on the bay floor – presumably mine.

  Dynamo waved at me as I reached the bottom, and it occurred to me that he must have enhanced vision of some sort to be able to see through the murky water at that depth. He squatted and then quickly extended his legs, driving himself towards the surface. I phased the other case, swiped my hand through it, and retrieved my last coin before turning and heading back up myself.

  I could see Dynamo up above me, making a beeline for the surface. Although my arms and legs moved so fast as to be nothing but blurs, each of Dynamo’s strokes, while not as numerous as mine, were far more powerful and propelled him towards the surface like a rocket. In short, while I was undoubtedly much faster on land, in the water we were more evenly matched.

  That said, I did manage to gain on him, but not enough to keep him from breaking the surface first. I wasn’t very far behind, though, and once I got out of the water, I was going to make him eat my dust. As my head broke the surface, though, I received quite the surprise: a sharp crack in the air that I immediately recognized. A sonic boom.

  No…it couldn’t be.

  I flew up out of the water and landed on the pier, then took off like a bullet, running in the direction of the locomotives while simultaneously telescoping my vision.

  The train engines were still moving away at top speed and were probably ten miles away from us. I scanned the area between myself and the locomotives, and saw what I was dreading: Dynamo. And he was running at Mach speed.

  That faker! All this time, in addition to super strength, he also had super speed!

  At the rate he was going, I didn’t think I’d be able to catch him, not before he reached his locomotive. Still, I had to try.

  I turned on the jets, running for all I was worth. I could hear the crowd cheering madly, but forced myself to ignore them. All that mattered was catching Dynamo.

  Frankly speaking, I could have made better time if I went airborne and actually started flying. For some reason, though, it was important to me to win this the way I’d been playing all along – with my feet on the ground. It had, unexpectedly, been a lot of fun, and taking to the sky – like teleporting at this juncture – would have somehow cheapened the experience. I might lose, but that seemed like a very minor thing at the moment.

  I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I almost failed to realize that I was gaining on Dynamo. Not just gaining on him, but seriously cutting into his lead. Had he pulled up lame or something? Unlikely; Dynamo was one of the nigh-invulnerable set. There was very little that could really hurt him.

  Still, as I caught up to him, I gave him a thorough look-see, and from what I could tell, he seemed fine. Even empathically, I didn’t pick up on any sensation of pain, just iron will and determination. Then the truth hit me.

  Dynamo didn’t have super speed, not really. It wasn’t truly part of his power set. He was actually more like a cheetah, with an adrenaline-fueled burst of speed that only lasted a short time. Thus, I was now passing him easily.

  I made sure I put a little distance between us, then eased up off the gas a little. I didn’t need to win by a country mile. In fact, at the moment, winning in and of itself seemed a lot less important than what the matchup between me and Dynamo represented. This was the kind of friendly competition that people enjoyed. This was the kind of contest that built camaraderie. This was the–

  Something whizzed by my ear, so close that I shirked a little. To say I was surprised would be an absolute understatement. There’s practically nothing that ever passes me when I’m moving at super speed, so I had been caught almost completely off-guard.

  Looking closely, I saw the thing that had almost clipped me: a round object of shiny metal.

  Unbelievable! It was Dynamo’s coin. Still moving at super speed, I glanced back to where Dynamo himself was. He was no longer running, having stopped and apparently thrown his coin towards the slot on his locomotive.

  I had to admire the guy’s grit and tenacity. Like a baseball player with a hundred-mile-per-hour fastball, Dynamo could throw much faster than he could actually run. In short, this was a race again.

  I hit the gas and started gaining on Dynamo’s coin, my competitive fire (and the desire to win) reignited by my opponent’s throw. After a few moments, I had caught it and actually had the ability to pull ahead, but decided to keep it close. We were getting near the locomotives, but I had a few seconds to admire what Dynamo had done.

  It was unquestionably the finest throw I had ever seen. The trajectory, the accuracy, the sheer power behind it… It all told me a lot and more about just how good Dynamo actually was. In terms of supers, he really was going to be one of the best.

  Unfortunately, his best wasn’t going to be good enough today – not simply because I was going to beat him, but because, as we got closer to the locomotives, I could see that the angle of his coin was slightly off. It was slowly tilting such that, while it would undoubtedly hit the slot, it would be so slanted that it wouldn’t go in the hole as intended.

  Too bad. The crowd would have gone nuts if something like that happened, even if he didn’t win. It would be so over-the-top that people would probably donate like crazy. We might even set a new fundraising record.

  Hmmm…why not? It’s for a good cause.

  Decision made, I telekinetically reached out for Dynamo’s coin, stopping i
ts angular digression without disturbing its forward momentum. Held steady, it was right on target as the distance between it and the slot closed.

  Exercising some dramatic license, I extended my own arm, hand out, with my last coin gripped between my thumb and forefinger. The two coins were neck-and-neck; it was going to be a photo finish.

  As we reached the locomotives, the other coin slid neatly into its hole a split second before I pushed my own into its slot, making Dynamo the undisputed winner of the competition.

  Chapter 19

  All of the participants (at least those who didn’t fly immediately out of town) met at Jackman’s after the exhibition. Now that the pressure of performing had passed, we could relax and enjoy each other’s company.

  The exhibition itself had actually wrapped up about two hours earlier. Following the end of the broadcast, most of us had retreated to our respective homes, hotel rooms, or what have you in order to freshen up and change.

  Personally, using super speed always kicks my metabolism into high gear, so – in addition to changing both my attire and my appearance after teleporting home – I also wolfed down three ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a pack of cashews, three apples, and half a gallon of juice. That was enough to get my appetite under control and would keep me from ordering everything on the menu at Jackman’s.

  I also spent a little time with Mom and Gramps, talking about the exhibition. Most of their comments were centered, of course, on my competition with Dynamo. They thought that it had been an absolutely thrilling finish, so from that standpoint it was definitely a success.

  After promising not to stay out too late, I had teleported to Jackman’s, which is where I now found myself.

  I popped up in the parking lot, which was surprisingly full of not only cars, but also people. I glanced towards the restaurant and it immediately became clear why. Through the large glass windows that formed the front of Jackman’s, I could see that the interior was completely packed. It was standing room only – filled well beyond legal capacity – and the place was sure to get a citation if the fire warden happened by.

  Scanning the inside, I recognized quite a few of those present. Vestibule sat at a booth near the front window, with a small entourage of what I assumed were other models. Despite being blatantly vapid and vain, she was being overtly courted by a handful of guys. On the table in front of her sat the trophy she had received for winning her competition with Actinic.

  Not too far away, Actinic himself was sitting at a table with some friends, smiling and chatting animatedly. Apparently, losing the trophy hadn’t disturbed him to any great degree, and with good reason. The judges were so impressed with what he’d done that – after stripping him of his victory – they’d made up a “Most Ingenious” award just for him, presenting him with a certificate at the end of the show.

  Failing to see my own tight circle of friends inside, I turned my attention back to the parking lot, which contained a considerably larger population at the moment than the restaurant interior. Aside from brief forays inside to get food and drinks, these people seemed perfectly content to hang around outside. Thankfully, a couple of teens with weather-related powers had seen fit to exercise a little discretion, resulting in an Indian summer – at least for tonight. There also seemed to be a bit of spillover from the exhibition, as I saw more than a few instances of teen supers putting their powers on display: speedsters racing around the block, metal rods being bent with bare hands, and so on.

  After a few minutes, I finally saw Sarah sitting on the hood of Smokey’s car on the far side of the parking lot. Although I didn’t immediately see Electra or Smokey, I assumed that they were close by and started making my way over.

  I was about halfway there when I came across Dynamo. He was standing with a small group of other teens, including a few from the Alpha League, discussing the latest blockbuster action flick.

  We hadn’t really had a chance to speak after the competition, as the broadcast had been coming to a close. I’d only had the opportunity to speak a few congratulatory words to him on-camera, and I don’t think either of us had hung around for long following that. Concerned that I might have sounded curt before, it seemed like a good time to let him know that my earlier congratulations were sincere.

  I waited outside his circle of friends, standing in a conspicuous manner. After a few moments, he seemed to notice me; he excused himself from his group and came towards me.

  I extended a hand to him, which he took. However, he cut me off before I got a single word out.

  “That wasn’t how it was supposed to go down,” Dynamo said.

  “Huh?” I muttered, confused.

  “The competition,” he said as he let go of my hand. “You were supposed to win.”

  I shook my head, perplexed. “I’m sorry. You lost me.”

  “Look, I’ve seen you in action, watched clips of you going through the training exercises. You’re a guy who likes to win.”

  “I suppose,” I said, not sure where he was going with this.

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that. We all like to win. But tonight was about charity, so I was willing to make a deal with you. I’d throw the competition if you’d agree to put on a good show.”

  “What do you mean, a ‘good show’?”

  “Just give the people their money’s worth – make it last.”

  “In other words, no teleporting.”

  “Among other things, but yeah. Unfortunately, you showed up late so I didn’t get a chance to see if you’d be on board. But it turns out that you were, even without having a conversation about it.”

  “And you figured that out just from the fact that I didn’t teleport?”

  “That, and your helping me to win.”

  I shook my head, feigning confusion. “I don’t what you’re talking about.”

  “Dude, please,” he said, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “Don’t blow that smoke in my direction. I can hit a pinhead with a grain of sand from two miles away. Throwing that coin into a slot is something I could do with my eyes closed. It was supposed to miss by a hair’s breadth, but you made it go in.”

  I was silent for a moment, and then finally spoke. “Like you said, it was for charity. I wanted to give the people a good show.”

  Dynamo nodded in agreement, looking at me in a way that suggested he was seeing me in a new light – or maybe for the first time.

  “You know,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder, “maybe Kid Sensation isn’t the arrogant, pompous, know-it-all that people say he is.”

  “And maybe,” I said with a grin, “Dynamo isn’t a smug, vainglorious snob who thinks he’s superior to everyone else.”

  Dynamo laughed heartily at that.

  “Later, man,” he said as he shook my hand again and headed back towards his friends.

  “Hey,” I said, my voice making him spin back around towards me. “Where’s your award?”

  Like Vestibule and the other winners, Dynamo had received a trophy. As befitting the winner of the night’s main event, it had been monstrously huge – about as tall as me.

  “I left it at home,” Dynamo said. “It just seemed like bad form to bring it here and rub it in your face, loser.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. Despite all the talk about Dynamo and I being rivals of some sort, it seemed much more likely that we were going to be friends. Good friends, in fact.

  Lost in thought about how the rumor mill had gotten something so wrong, I continued walking absentmindedly towards Smokey’s car. I had barely gone three steps when someone behind me spoke.

  “Excuse me,” said a clearly feminine voice in a tone, manner, and direction that made it obvious that the speaker was addressing me.

  I turned around to see who it was…and my heart skipped a beat.

  It was the girl from the triathlon.

  Chapter 20

  I had rarely thought about her over the past few hours – had practically forgotten about her, in fact. But see
ing her now, standing right there in front of me, brought on an unexpected surge of emotion. I felt a schoolboy giddiness coming over me as I looked at her, and I found myself amazed that I had thought about anything other than her recently. I felt a stupid, idiotic grin forming on my face but found it impossible to stop myself.

  “You’ve changed,” she said matter-of-factly.

  I glanced down at my clothes. I was wearing a blue golf shirt and a pair of khakis.

  “Yes,” I finally acknowledged, still grinning, and then struggled to find something meaningful to add. “So have you.”

  It was true; she was no longer in her costume. Instead, she was wearing sandals, black palazzo pants, and a lacy, white, short-sleeved top that hung ever-so-loosely off her shoulders.

  “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “Your appearance.” She swirled her hand around her face for emphasis.

  Her voice had a magical quality to it, something hypnotic. And, although her English was perfect, I thought I could detect a slight accent, but I wasn’t sure.

  “Oh, that. Yeah, I did,” I said. I frowned, as something suddenly occurred to me. “Wait a minute; how’d you know that?”

  Basically, although I kept having weird feelings around this girl, I had never seen her before. Still, she somehow had connected my Kid Sensation countenance with my real face.

  “Your aura,” she said.

  “My what?”

  “Aura. There’s an…atmosphere, you might say, that I can sense around people. It’s reflective of their nature – their personality – and stays the same no matter what they do.”

  “So you can use it to recognize or identify people – even shapeshifters.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Interesting. So, what exactly does my aura look like?”

 

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