“Oh yeah?” Blake asked, intrigued.
“Yes. This way here, you’ll experience the least amount of disruption possible. That facility is more advanced, and we’ll be able to do things faster.”
“Don’t you need all those Cloudbuster things up top?” Blake asked, pointing in the general direction of the surface equipment above them. “I can’t say I’ve ever seen or heard of such a thing in Portsmouth.”
Victor smiled. “We’ve miniaturized the technology from Dr. Wilhelm’s original designs. Once you know what to look for, you’ll see them all over town.”
Blake nodded. “Okay.”
“Speaking of which, let’s get you home. I’ll connect with you later this week once we’ve moved, but I probably won’t be in touch for a couple days. There’s a lot to do up here. I’ll also secure that condo for you on Badger Island. You only have to deal with your parents for a few more days. Can you handle it?”
Blake sighed. “What’s a few more days when it’s been almost seventeen years? I can handle it. Do you still need me to take out Chief Applegate?”
Victor smirked and blinked. “Those weren’t my words.”
“Yeah, they were. I just read between the lines.” They smiled together and made their way back up to the main level of the facility.
❖
“Where the fuck have you been?” Ralph shouted, slurring his words as he struggled to push himself up from his recliner.
Blake reached out with his right hand, clawing his fingers, and grabbed his sloshed father with his mind. He lifted him up from his recliner and pulled him across the living room, the man’s shins smashing into the beer bottle covered coffee table. Glass bottles crashed together and fell to the carpet, momentarily jarring his mother from her drunken stupor on the couch. Ralph groaned in pain and surprise, his face expressing confusion.
Stop.
What are you doing? He’s your father!
Don’t hurt him tonight. Don’t do something you’ll regret…today’s been tough enough.
Let him go.
Blake extended his fingers and pushed his father back into his recliner. Ralph shouted as he flew backward and landed hard, the wind sucked out of him. Then, he flipped the recliner lever so his father’s feet would be elevated, hopefully encouraging him to pass out or fall asleep—Blake would take whichever came first.
“Good night, Blake,” Stella said, shifting her hands under her face on the couch. Blake shook his head and walked into the kitchen to grab a snack. The house reeked of alcohol, and he could tell his parents had mixed it up quite a bit that day. He stared at the open bottle of cheap vodka on the counter top.
They’re not the only ones who had a terrible day.
He glanced back at his parents in the living room; his father was now snoring in his recliner. He grabbed the bottle and chugged half of it, spitting up and sputtering the clear liquid as the vodka burned his throat. Then, he set the bottle down and went upstairs to shower.
29 | Life Must Go On
Quinn
“SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK he meant by a cute and adorable outfit?” Quinn asked, staring into his open closet, freshly showered and wearing red boxer briefs. He had been overthinking his outfit for the past thirty minutes.
Daddio, who had just brought up a basket of folded laundry, leaned against his dresser and stared into the array of clothes in Quinn’s closet. “I interpret the phrase as instructions to dress up for dinner at a nice restaurant. I don’t think he’s taking you to McDonald’s.”
Quinn laughed. “Gawd, I hope not.”
“Do you want suggestions?” Daddio asked, his voice playfully nervous.
Quinn smirked, knowing his fashion-obsessed father yearned for the chance to dote on him. “Yes, please.”
This is when having two gay dads really pays off…they won’t let me leave the house looking anything less than completely put together.
Daddio clutched his heart and feigned surprise, then leapt across the room before Quinn could change his mind.
“Bow ties are cool right now. Pair one of your bow ties with a dress shirt—which I’ll iron for you—and then match it with either a dark pair of jeans or, depending on the shirt you pick out, a pair of navy blue, beige, or gray khakis. Match the belt color with the shoe color, and if possible, choose fun dress socks that match your shirt color. You can borrow a pair of ours if you like.”
Quinn looked at his father, his eyes glazing over. Uh, okay…
Daddio smiled. “Too much? Come on, I’ve seen you pull together all kinds of outfits that easily qualify as cute and adorable.”
“Yeah, I know, but this is Keegan. I feel a lot of pressure and I don’t know why.”
Daddio giggled and grinned at his son. “Because you’re super crushing on him, Quinn. Yes, this is Keegan, and he will think you look adorable no matter what because he likes you a lot. That’s what all the fuss for, right?”
“I dunno, it’s only our second date. I want it to go perfectly.”
“I know you do, Quinn. From what I’ve gleaned about Keegan, he’s into you and not what you wear. He wants to spend time with you and…”
Quinn burst into laughter when he saw his father’s face fill with alarm as his mind replayed the last sentence he said.
“Oh dear lord, promise me you won’t go there tonight.”
“Excuse me?” Quinn exclaimed. I’m not having the gay sex talk with you fifteen minutes before Keegan shows up!
“With you being in the closet, Dad and I thought we had a little more time to discuss sex with you, I mean, beyond what you already know, but, wow, suddenly we’re at the bridge and…”
“Daddio!” Quinn exclaimed. “I’m not crossing that bridge tonight. I’m not ready, and I don’t think Keegan is either.”
Daddio dramatically stepped back and collapsed on Quinn’s bed, speaking with an over exaggerated Southern accent. “Oh, I do believe I have a case of the vapors. My son is talking about sexual relations with his new boyfriend! My heart cannot taketh the strain!”
Quinn burst into laughter. “You’re being ridiculous. He’s not my boyfriend, at least not yet.”
“Are you guys okay up there?” Dad called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“Yes!” Quinn and Daddio shouted together.
“Don’t you worry your little heart, my child,” Daddio responded loudly, staying in character.
“Oh brother,” Dad answered.
Daddio became serious and sat forward. He pointed at Quinn and spoke sternly, but with love. “You’re right, you’re not ready. Everything we’ve taught you about the gift of sexuality holds true, whether you’re gay or straight. Dad and I expect you to use the best judgment you can—and believe me, in the heat of the moment, that’s not easy. Always be safe, Quinn, okay?”
“Yes, Daddio,” Quinn said, blushing.
“Okay. I love you and don’t want you to get hurt. Now, would you pick out an outfit already? Am I ironing a shirt or not?”
“Yes, you are.” He turned around and picked out a purple and white gingham shirt, a red bow tie, dark jeans, dark ankle socks and his red converse. To finish it off, he pulled out gray suspenders.
Daddio smiled at the outfit. “Perfect. That fits the instructions perfectly. I’ll take the pants and shirt to my bedroom and iron them for you right now.”
“Thanks, Daddio,” Quinn said, handing over his pants and shirt. “And don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about.”
“I trust you,” Daddio said, winking as he disappeared into the hallway.
Quinn chuckled. I guess we’re going to be having that talk tomorrow, too.
❖
Keegan parked the car in the infamous Whale Lot and the boys got out.
“Can I pay for parking?” Quinn asked, watching Keegan walk to the pay-for-parking meter.
“Nope,” Keegan answered. “This is all my treat tonight.”
Quinn smiled and watched Keegan press buttons on the parking machine.
He wore black loafers with no visible socks, cuffed-at-the-ankle navy blue khakis, a shiny black belt, and a red tie knotted around a white dress shirt that had small blue sailboats on it. Both boys carried light jackets in their arms, expecting the air to be cooler near the river.
The mere coincidence of wearing a matching red tie and bow tie made them giggle when they greeted one another at Quinn’s house. Keegan had leaned forward and planted a small kiss on Quinn’s lips, leaving him hungry for more—but his dads walked into the hallway and his desires took a back seat to greetings.
After he put the parking receipt on the dashboard of the car, Keegan locked it and turned to Quinn.
“Shall we?”
“Yeah, but, um, I think my dads interrupted something back there.”
Keegan smiled and stepped closer. He gently took Quinn’s face in his hands and they kissed the kiss Quinn had day-dreamed of many times, not caring about anyone who might be watching them.
When Quinn opened his eyes, he sighed as Keegan’s blue eyes pulled away, twinkling as he smiled. “Much better,” Keegan whispered.
“Yeah.” Quinn said.
“Ready to go?””
“Uh-huh,” Quinn intoned, covering his crotch with his jacket. Keegan laughed and did the same. The boys walked through Vaughn Mall hand-in-hand to Congress Street.
“Where are we going?” Quinn asked, curious to know, his stomach rumbling at the thought of food. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since his banana at breakfast—another reason he probably looked terrible to his fathers earlier.
“Well, I was going to offer you a choice. We can enjoy a nice Italian meal at Cafe Mediterraneo or we can jump to the other side of the world and go to 5 Thai Bistro. Choose whichever you like because I’ve had both and it doesn’t matter to me.”
Quinn smiled. “Well, I haven’t had Thai food in ages…”
“So, is that your final answer?” Keegan asked, imitating a game show announcer.
“It is, but I already won the prize,” Quinn answered, squeezing Keegan’s hand.
Keegan laughed, and Quinn grinned as they made their way through the busy sidewalks to the restaurant for dinner.
Quinn felt a spark of courage rise up in his soul, despite the significant loss he still felt. “Keegan, are we dating, or are we, uh…going out or something?” Quinn asked.
“Do you mean, are we boyfriends?”
“Yeah,” Quinn responded, feeling his soul become wrecked with nervousness.
“I dunno, I mean, you just came out of the closet, it’s not like you really understand this whole being gay thing yet, do you?”
Quinn stopped walking in front of North Church and looked at Keegan with shock and disbelief. His heart dropped into his stomach. I cannot handle this right now.
Keegan burst into laughter and grabbed Quinn’s other hand. He brought both of Quinn’s hands up to his heart and pulled Quinn close. “Sorry, handsome, I was only teasing…I can see that was bad timing on my part. I would be happy to be your boyfriend, Quinn, if you’d like to be mine.”
Quinn smiled and pulled Keegan in for a kiss.
❖
Blake
Sick of tossing and turning in his bed, his mind locked in a sleepless, vodka-fueled battle of what he wanted versus what The Order wanted, Blake pulled on a pair of black and orange running tights, socks, a pair of running sneakers, and skipped a shirt, knowing he’d be warm enough without one. As he walked past the kitchen, he paused and stared at the unmoved vodka bottle on the counter. He looked behind him and checked on his passed out, snoring parents, and frowned.
Guess you won’t be needing this tonight.
He grabbed the bottled and chugged, disappointed he didn’t notice any effects from his first taste of vodka. When the burn became unbearable, he coughed up the clear liquid, spraying it all over the counter, cabinetry, and the floor. Annoyed, he set the nearly-empty bottle back on the counter. Then, he headed out the back door and ran into the night, using his super speed to run faster than normal, jumping over cars like they were shoe boxes on the sidewalk and confusing their half-awake drivers. Eventually, he found himself running down the centerline of Route 1 South. Several moments later, he felt the dizzying effects of alcohol consume his mind as he ran with his thoughts.
What the fuck are you doing, Blake? You’re going to be just like them if you grab that bottle again. You need your brain sharp if you’re going to outsmart Victor…it’s not like the world will be safe with him in control of the super army; you’ll need to control it and you’ll need your wits about you to stay one step ahead of him.
Blake shook his head as a strange euphoric sensation overcame him, making his movements seem effortless as his vision became slightly impaired. This must be what a buzz feels like.
Interesting. I like it.
I’ve already figured out that he works hard to stay one step ahead of me. His over-confidence in The Order and his plans are why he occasionally slips up and loses it in front of me. He doesn’t even realize he’s letting me see the unfocused side of his personality.
A loud truck horn shook him out of his thoughts as the truck’s brakes screeched, the truck swerving to avoid him. Buzzed, he misjudged his timing and leapt over a tractor trailer a second too late. His left foot caught on the air dam and he tumbled onto the semi-trailer’s roof, his momentum violently somersaulting and flipping him across its length. When he reached the rear of the trailer, he fell off and landed on the ground with a hard thud, the wind momentarily knocked out of him.
Dammit!
He sat up, and although he remained unscathed, the pain and nuisance of being tossed to the pavement irritated him. The world around him shifted a little and he felt dizzy when he stood up. That’s probably the booze…
The tractor trailer came to a hard stop and the driver jumped out of the cab, gawking at Blake, who was dusting his hands off. “How the hell are you still alive?” the driver asked.
In his intoxicated state, he mentally lashed out without thinking, blowing the tires of the tractor trailer with his mind. The driver swore at the unexpected blowout. A second later, police lights flashed as a cruiser stopped behind him.
Blake turned and watched two officers get out of the vehicle and approach, hands on their weapons. The officer on the driver’s side spoke to him while the other spoke codes into his radio. “What happened? Are you all right? How did you…?”
“I’m fine, just leave me alone,” Blake slurred.
“Leave you alone?” the officer asked, surprised. “I saw what just happened, so that’s not an option, son. How did you…how could you…um…where’s your shirt? It’s forty-two degrees out tonight.”
Blake frowned, belched, and waved him off. “I didn’t wear one,” he answered, shaking his head vigorously. The alcohol had hit him much harder than he expected.
“You should be a bloody mess, but you’re not. Are you Blue Spekter?”
“Fuck no,” Blake slurred.
“Then, I’m calling an ambulance. You must be hurt.” The officer removed his hand from his weapon.
No ambulances, no hospital expenses!
“No, I’m fine!” Blake shouted at the officer. The second officer stopped approaching and stared at him, his hand still on his radio.
“Are you drunk?” The first officer asked. “Do you have any ID on you, like a driver’s license or your high school ID?”
“I said, leave me alone!” Blake shouted, clenching his fists while setting his eyes ablaze with orange fury.
“Oh shit, it’s him, it’s that other Blue Spekter guy,” the second officer said, taking cover behind the passenger door of his cruiser. The first officer backed away, his hands extended out to his sides in a non-threatening manner. “I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?”
Blake snarled and extended his hands. Using his Darth Vader- and Kylo Ren-inspired trick, he yanked the first officer toward him. When he was inches away from his face, he stopped, holding him immobilized in
midair.
“I told you I’m not Blue Spekter,” he shouted, his mind racing with pseudo-clarity induced by his buzz. “I’m the real hero of this town. I’m here to do what he can’t do.”
“If you’re…not him, then, who…who are you?” the officer asked, stammering with fear as he spoke, struggling to grasp at the invisible force that held him aloft.
Blake smirked behind his brightly glowing eyes as two words slammed into his head…the code name Victor and the Order had given him; a name Chief Applegate would recognize and learn to fear if she interfered with him in any way. His smirk turned into an evil, teeth baring grin the officer could barely see behind the orange glow coming from his eyes.
A moment later his fingers sparked, and his hands erupted into a hot, purple and orange flame that travelled down his arms and covered his torso. He had enough sense about him not to burn off his running tights.
The officer winced and struggled against the heat radiating from Blake’s body. Blake dropped the officer to his feet and released him. The man staggered backward to his cruiser, regarding him with fear and awe.
“You can call me…Dark Flame.”
Then, he turned and ran away at super speed, leaving a burning wake of purple-orange flame that dissipated into the night air, confident the plan he set in motion would bear much fruit in his favor.
30 | Securing the Future
Victor
VICTOR WALKED THROUGH THE CONSTRUCTION mess in the workroom, his cane clicking on the floor. He and the team of soldiers spent the past several days cleaning the fallout left behind from Quinn and Blake's super battle and now, cursory repairs were underway. It was the facility’s sensitive electronics and special-order equipment that had received the most damage and would take even longer to replace. The reactor core and the facility itself were shut down until further notice.
He stopped in front of the containment unit that held the micro bugs and stared at them. They appeared to be intact, but Victor couldn't figure out why; he recalled seeing Quinn zap them with electricity.
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