Teen Superheroes Box Set | Books 1-7

by Pitt, Darrell

  We went to the rear of the cave, where we got into what looked like an elevator. I leaned against the back with a sigh. I wanted a shower; the dead man’s blood was still all over my hands. The others looked a mess as well. The elevator started with a slight pull, and then we were moving sideways at several miles per hour. How the thing operated without plastering us to the back was beyond me. It worked; that’s all that mattered. Just as long as I didn’t have to walk back to town. Anything was better than that.

  Palmer drew me to one side as soon as we piled out of the elevator.

  ‘Twenty-Two wants to see you,’ she said. ‘Once you’ve cleaned up.’

  ‘What does he want with me?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Palmer replied. ‘Could be the length of your hair. It is getting a little long.’

  Yeah. Sure.

  A few minutes later, I was back in my hotel room and washed, dried, and reclothed. My room was on the fourth floor of a hotel in the middle of Las Vegas. Beneath the building lay the infrastructure of The Agency—meeting rooms, training centers, communications rooms. It was a massive complex, and even I’d only seen a small part of it. The hotel enabled us to carry out a normal life—or as normal a life as you can have when you’re working as a genetically modified superhero for a secret organization.

  I descended back down into the underground bunker of The Agency. Twenty-Two’s office was several floors beneath street level at the end of a concrete corridor where a female receptionist sat typing at a computer. I tried to remember her name, but couldn’t.

  ‘I’m here to see Twenty-Two,’ I said.

  ‘Your name?’ the girl asked.

  And here I was thinking I was famous.

  ‘Axel,’ I said. ‘Smith.’

  She spoke into a phone for a moment. ‘Twenty-Two will see you now.’

  I entered his office.

  Twenty-Two looked about as ordinary as anyone else. He was tall, thin, and bald. Possibly they forgot to tell him about hair when he was instructed on how to look like a human. I’d no idea as to the actual appearance of The Bakari. Whatever they really looked like, they probably bore little resemblance to a human.

  I’d seen him around other parts of The Agency complex, but we hadn’t officially met, and I’d never seen him outside the building.

  Maybe the Bakari were allergic to sunlight.

  Who knew?

  ‘Axel.’ His voice was warm. He sounded so human. Still, I felt a shiver dance along my spine. I’d only met one other Bakari. He was known as Twelve—don’t ask me about why they had numbers for names—and he’d been responsible for the experimentation carried out on us. Later he’d tried to kill us. I tried to remind myself that this man was a different alien, and that was a different time.

  It wasn’t easy.

  ‘Please take a seat,’ Twenty-Two offered.

  I slid into a chair. ‘What’s this all about?’

  ‘I wanted to keep you apprised as to developments regarding your family.’

  It took a moment for this to sink in. My family. That’s right. A million years ago, Agent Palmer had said The Agency was trying to track down information regarding our true identities. Maybe even reconnect us with our families—if we had any.

  I’d been told I had a brother, but I’d driven this information as far from my mind as possible. After everything that had happened to us, the possibility of a brother was too much to hope for.

  Still…

  ‘What have you found out?’ I asked.

  ‘Our inquiries have been inconclusive, but we’re following some leads.’

  ‘What sort of leads?’

  ‘As you know, most of the records regarding The Alpha Project were destroyed by the scientists involved and then later by Twelve.’

  I nodded. Evil aliens don’t like leaving trails.

  ‘However,’ Twenty-Two continued. ‘It appears there were some hard copies of documents that were missed. We have people examining them now.’

  ‘Do you think—’ I swallowed, suddenly finding it hard to speak. ‘What are the chances—’

  ‘We don’t know,’ the alien said. ‘It will take some time to sort out.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.’

  I realized the meeting was abruptly at an end. Fine. I stood up, shook Twenty-Two’s hand again, and left the office. Ignoring the girl at the desk, I made my way through the complex to The Hub. This area had been redesigned the previous month. It was the size of a football field, with communications screens surrounding the exterior. A park, complete with artificial trees and lawn, filled the center.

  My phone rang. I glanced at the display.

  Brodie.

  I’d forgotten all about her. Hitting the receive button, I saw she’d sent a message with an attached file.

  What’s this about?

  Not more handbags, I hoped. The Agency gave us an allowance, and Brodie’s handbag collection had been increasing at the rate of one per week. If I had to look at another handbag—

  I opened the first image. It showed Brodie lying still on a floor. After staring at the image in horror for what seemed like an eternity, it was replaced by some text. They began:

  You will follow our instructions to the letter if you want this girl to live.

  Chapter Four

  Brodie awoke to find her face pressed against cold metal. Her head hurt. Why did her head hurt? It was hard to think. The last thing she remembered was walking down East Charleston Boulevard. Someone had come up behind her. She’d turned, thinking it was some mugger, and then—

  Then everything had turned green.

  Green.

  That wasn’t a good sign. Brodie slowly sat up. She was in a metal room. A grimy metal room. It was obviously some sort of cell, and judging by the sway of the chamber, it was onboard a ship.

  How had she ended up here? And why? There was no window in the room, so it was impossible to tell if it was day or night. She checked for her phone. Gone. So there was no way to call for help.

  Still, whoever had kidnapped her may not know about her enhanced strength or fighting abilities. Brodie examined the cell door. Also constructed from metal, it had some sort of complicated electronic locking mechanism. She’d never seen anything like it.

  Peering around the cell, her eyes finally settling on a metal box set into the wall near the lock. Burying her fingers into the groove around the edge, she pulled hard and broke off the cover. A series of blue and orange leads wrapped in translucent silver filaments filled the box. She dragged at the wires.

  Bang!

  A shower of sparks erupted from the interior, and Brodie released the wires.

  ‘Kids,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Don’t try this at home.’

  She grabbed the wires again and dragged them across to the electronic lock. Keeping her hands free from the ends, she took a deep breath and touched them to the mechanism. This time there was no sound, but the display flickered a few times before going dark.

  ‘Yes!’ She dropped the wires, pulled at the door, and opened it quickly. ‘Escape à la Brodie!’

  She peeked into the hallway. Despite the grimy appearance of the flooring and walls, this was obviously some sort of high tech ship, and she was stuck in the bowels of it. She’d have to get above deck without being seen and then steal a rowboat or send a mayday.

  Great.

  And all she wanted was a new handbag.

  Still, no one ever said the life of a superhero was meant to be easy. Not that she really thought of herself as a superhero. She just happened to be an Australian girl with three times the strength and speed of a normal man, a multitude of martial arts abilities, and an employee of a secret agency operating within the United States.

  If that made her a superhero, then—

  Actually, she thought. That probably does make me a superhero.

  Still, she wished Axel were here. A pang of emotion gripped her chest. She might have superpowers, b
ut she was also a girl. She found herself thinking about Axel all the time, although she wasn’t sure he felt the same way. He often seemed preoccupied with other things.

  Brodie drove the thoughts from her mind. Now was the time for action, not for girly-girly-mush-mush. She crept down the corridor. There were doors on both sides—possibly other people were imprisoned within—but she couldn’t do anything about them right now. She had to focus on escaping.

  The corridor ended at a set of stairs heading up. Racing up them, she found herself facing another set of stairs and passageway identical to what she’d just left. Up has got to be the best way to go. Brodie ascended again and reached another corridor, but now the stairs had run out. She made her way down the passageway to an elevator at the end. There were strange symbols on the display.

  What language is that? She didn’t recognize it. The up button was the only thing that mattered, and it was clear. She pushed it and waited.

  A few seconds passed. The doors opened and—

  Brodie’s mouth fell open. The occupant was over six feet in height, covered in scales, and had a face, not unlike that of a fish; its eyes were placed back on the sides of its head. The hairless creature fell back in surprise as it stared in astonishment at Brodie. Its mouth fell open to reveal two thin rows of even teeth. A weapon vaguely resembling a pistol hung from its belt.

  ‘I’m looking for handbags,’ Brodie said. ‘Which floor is that?’

  She didn’t wait for a reply. As the creature reached for its weapon, she leaped into action, aiming a kick at its groin—she assumed its physiology was similar to that of a human—and followed up with three rapid punches to its jaw.

  The creature hit the back of the elevator before sagging to the floor.

  ‘You’re the ugliest modification I’ve ever seen,’ Brodie said. ‘You make Jabba the Hutt look good.’

  She had to hurry. Dragging the ugly brute out of the elevator, she grabbed its sidearm and jumped into the recess. Her eyes scanned the display. Once again, the symbols were unfamiliar, but it was easy enough to ascertain the button for the top floor. She stabbed the control. As the elevator zoomed up at a fantastic speed, she checked the gun. The barrel of it ended in a metallic grill; obviously, this thing didn’t fire bullets. Apart from that, it was a simple enough weapon and seemed to have only one setting.

  Shoot, Brodie thought. That’s easy enough.

  Her heart was thumping now. She had the element of surprise on her side, but not much else. This wasn’t going to be easy.

  The elevator doors whizzed open.

  Brodie realized two things at once. One was that she’d successfully reached the bridge of the ship—a massive row of windows encompassed the room. Through them, she could see the dark sky beyond.

  This detail fell to insignificance, however, as she realized the command center was being run by twenty creatures similar to the one she’d just dispatched several floors below. She stood staring at the bizarre-looking creatures for all of five seconds before realizing that going down to another floor would be an excellent idea.

  Except, at that moment, an alarm sounded—a long peal of doom that made every fishhead look up, and then one happened to glance at the open doors of the elevator.

  ‘Nuts,’ Brodie said.

  She started forward, firing wildly and taking down eight of the creatures in a matter of seconds. At that point one fired back, stunning her, and she dropped the gun. Taking a woozy step forward, she shook her head to clear it, slammed her fist into the stomach of one of the nearby creatures, and lifted it into the air.

  The unfortunate victim then became a live battering ram as Brodie used it as both a weapon and a shield, taking down several creatures while deflecting shots with its body. She’d defeated fifteen of the monsters before one came up behind her and stunned her a second time.

  Brodie sank to her knees, dropping her living shield headfirst into the floor. It was only when she was dragged back to her feet that she peered through half-open eyes at the scene beyond the window. It was night, but a blacker night sky than any seen from Earth. The planet came into view, and she saw the thin layer of atmosphere, an enormous expanse of ocean, layers of cloud, and the East Coast of North America.

  I’m on a ship, Brodie thought, woozily. A spaceship.

  Then everything faded to black.

  Chapter Five

  I arrived at the warehouse with five minutes to spare. By then, the back of my head was throbbing with tension. The Agency forbade us from using our powers for anything other than Agency business, but this time I had to make an exception. I’d flown around the area before landing behind the warehouse. Located in a rundown part of town where Las Vegas gave way to desert, this was a place that tourists didn’t get to see. Abandoned buildings fought a losing battle against nature, decaying roads needed repair, and stray dogs wandered the streets. Even the homeless didn’t come here; there was no one to panhandle from, and there was nowhere to buy food anyway.

  I’d done my best to stay focused on how to handle this situation, but by the time I landed, I’d barely moved forward an inch in my plans. One all-consuming thought had taken over my brain.

  They’ve got Brodie.

  They’ve kidnapped my girlfriend.

  I felt as helpless as anyone else who has ever been blackmailed by a kidnapper. My powers hadn’t given me an advantage; not yet, anyway. The short message sent on my phone was succinct and straight to the point: the kidnappers would kill Brodie if I didn’t follow their instructions. I wasn’t to tell another living being about her kidnapping. Not anyone at The Agency. Not the police. Not any of my friends.

  I was alone.

  The never-ending horizon stretched away into the distance. A wire fence surrounded the warehouse. There was no sign of cars or other vehicles. No tracks in the sand. The building was little more than a vast sheet metal shed. It looked like one big wind might knock it down completely. The front door was ajar. I threw up a barrier as I approached. I’d be ready if I were attacked.

  Easing myself through the gap in the door, I found the interior to be dry and dusty. Old wooden boxes lay everywhere, but they all appeared to be overturned and empty. A timber mezzanine level ran around the upper floor. It was impossible to see what lay behind the boxes up there.

  Here goes nothing.

  If anyone were up there, they—

  A thing stepped out from behind one of the piles of boxes.

  I say thing because it wasn’t human. It was either an alien or a seriously enhanced mod. Enhanced humans were no surprise to me. I’d encountered several already, although this thing looked radically different. It was tall, covered in scales, and had a head not unlike a fish. A holster hung from its waist, but its gun was firmly planted in its hand. This was the last thing I expected, although it should have been obvious to me. Brodie wouldn’t have been taken down by a regular kidnapper.

  ‘Where’s Brodie?’ I asked.

  ‘I am Graal,’ the creature said. ‘I am from a planet many light-years from here. A planet called Tagaar. And I am disappointed. I’d hoped you would attack me on sight.’

  So I did.

  Lifting my arm, I used a ball of air to knock the gun from his hand. Then I dragged him down off the floor above and crashed him into the ground. Racing over to him, I slipped an arm around his neck as he started to rise. He was dazed but responded by flipping me over into a pile of boxes.

  To really rile me up, he slowly climbed to his feet and laughed.

  I got ready to throw a hurricane at him.

  ‘That wouldn’t be advisable,’ he said. ‘You have proven my point. You humans are a warlike race. You love bloodshed. Your entire history is made up of killing those who are weaker.’

  I wasn’t interested in defending the history of the human race. ‘Where’s Brodie?’ I asked.

  ‘She is safe,’ Graal said, tilting his head and regarding me through one eye. ‘For now. If you want her to remain uninjured, you will follow my instr
uctions exactly.’

  His lips weren’t matching his words. They were out of sync.

  ‘You are a primitive people,’ he said, reading my expression. ‘Of course, I am using a translator to communicate with you. My species was spanning the stars while you were still living in caves and eating raw meat.’

  ‘Why have you kidnapped an innocent girl if you’re so advanced?’

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  I felt like beating him to a pulp so I could find out those reasons.

  He laughed again. ‘Good. I see your anger,’ he said. ‘I like rage in a species.’

  ‘I want evidence that Brodie is still alive.’

  ‘I will not give it to you.’

  I took a single step toward him and heard the sound of muffled feet from above. A dozen similarly dressed aliens stepped out from behind boxes with their guns trained on me.

  The headache in the back of my head switched to full gear. ‘What do you want?’ I snapped.

  ‘I wish you to run an errand for me,’ he said, pausing. ‘There is a vault deep within The Agency building where you’re housed.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘A weapon is located in that vault. It was developed by the country known on your planet as China. I want that weapon stolen and delivered to me.’

  ‘The Agency is built like a fortress,’ I said. ‘How am I supposed to break into the vault?’

  ‘I have instructions on how to reach it. You will use your powers to steal the weapon.’

  ‘What does it do?’

  A smile played across the alien’s lips. ‘It’s most ingenious,’ he said. ‘It’s a type of gun called the Stonekiller. It converts its victim into a type of living rock. They are unable to move a muscle, yet they remain alive, locked within the rock for all time.’

  I tried to imagine such a fate. ‘That’s sick.’

  ‘It is creative,’ Graal agreed, laughing. ‘Even my own people haven’t developed such a weapon. Only humans could develop a torment so terrible.’

  ‘We’re not all like that,’ I said. ‘Most people want to live in peace.’

  Graal shook his head. ‘You misunderstand me, boy,’ he said. ‘I praise the savagery of your species. The Tagaar are a warrior race. We have driven more species to extinction than you can imagine.’