Powered (2 page)

“You bitch,” he spits out, clutching his back with his left hand. I grab his right hand before he can touch it to his other wrist, generating enough power to send a deadly bolt of it in my direction. He twists around trying to break free, but it only makes me wrap his own arm around his neck, pinning his back to my chest in the ultimate chokehold.

With his wrist in my hand, I squeeze hard, hoping to shatter his bones … or at least cause enough pain for him to stop stomping on my freaking foot.

“What have you done to her?” I ask, remembering the first rule of being a Hero is to save the humans.

“
Die
,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Predicting your future, eh?” I snort, tugging his arm even tighter around his own neck while he gasps for breath.

“You can’t kill me,” he says in ragged gasps. “It’s the highest law of Heroes.”

He has a point. And I have no good comeback. So I knee him hard in the kidney and demand to know what he’s doing to the human.

“I’m just giving her a
ride
.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “It’s not my fault she didn’t put on a seatbelt.”

Oh shit. The ride has reached its full speed, rising a good twenty feet off the ground. Any moment now, the tilting-at-sharp-angles part of the thrill will begin. And a human in the Gravatron with no restraints? Well, it’ll be like the time my brother put a plastic army man on the ceiling fan and flipped on the switch.

The human cries out, in pain or fear—I can’t tell which, but it assures me she’s still alive. I release my hold on Snapback, giving him a powerful shove to get him far away from me so I can use those precious seconds to think of a plan. After all, there are no passing grades for rescuing a dead human.

I go to the back of the control box and lean over it to keep Snapback in my vision as I survey the controls. All the buttons are smashed. Every single one. I press hard on the cracked plastic of what used to be the stop button. Nothing happens.

I expect Snapback to attack me again, running up from behind the broken bits of what used to be a spinning teacup. But he doesn’t come back as I break open the control box and rip out wires, hoping one of them will cut the electricity. I can’t sense his power anymore, but that’s not comforting since I don’t have the mental energy to focus on feeling out his power
and
saving the human.

The ride hasn’t tilted yet, so that’s one good thing. The control panel looks like a bowl of wire spaghetti. The ride has to have some kind of shut-off switch amidst the gears underneath the massive, spinning cylinder. My hair whips around my face, circling my neck like a caramel-colored scarf as I step under the spinning ride.

And damn if I’m not a total genius. Three metal levers are in front of me: two black and one red. I grab the red one and shove it down. The gears let out a frightening grinding sound as they shift into a new position. Everything gets dark as the metal floor tilts sharply on its axis and smashes me in the face.

Pain of this magnitude was never described in my training material.

Now on the ground, mouth filling with my own blood, I crawl on my hands and knees to avoid another whack in the face. The human’s cries come as quick gasps as she holds onto the edge of the wall, trying not to fly out. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

“Let go,” I yell, scrambling to my feet. Blood gushes down my forehead and I wipe it away with the sleeve of my suit. “I’ll catch you.”

I expect her to refuse but she complies. Her body flies out of the ride and soars a dozen feet in the air. I knock over a popcorn cart as I run faster than she’s moving. When I’m far enough away, I turn around and hold out my arms, catching her like an oversized football.

Crouching by the ticket booth, I place her gently on the grass. She pulls a wooden stake out of the ground and rips off the string of triangle flags attached to it before brandishing it like a weapon. Geez, she could at least pretend to be grateful that I saved her life. But Heroes also can’t be assholes, so I suck in my thoughts and stick to the training material.

“I am Hero Maci Might, and you’re okay,” I tell her. “Just wait here.” I pull my BEEPR off my elbow and twist it up so I can see the screen. I swipe through the options, trying to find the button to call a Retriever. I could have sworn it was in this menu—

Five fingers dig into my back and throw me on the ground. Snapback’s toothy grin hovers in front of my face and it’s all I can do not to cringe and lose concentration. His breath smells like motor oil but that’s not as unbearable as the sight of his disgusting notched teeth.

I leap feet first into a standing position. My right arm makes a sharp swoosh through the air, landing—oh, crap—right into thin air as Snapback ducks, missing my punch. With nowhere to land, my fist swirls through the air, spinning me in a circle before I can regain my ready stance. This wins me an even bigger grin from the hairless freak in front of me.

A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead, an ever-present reminder that I don’t have a proper Hero suit to wick away the wet distraction before it ruins my fight. No worries. I’m about to put an end to that by defeating this bastard and earning my title of Hero.

Snapback karate chops my forearm as I wipe my face. My arm goes cold but I continue to fight back as the freezing chill shoots up it and into my chest. It’s pain, I know, but the adrenaline coursing through me refuses to let me feel it just yet, and I’m grateful.

He lunges toward me and I flip backward, landing behind a row of roller coaster seats that hit him in the chest as his leap takes him a shorter distance than he’d expected. That’s what happens when you jump with a broken back, idiot. My knee presses painfully against the coaster’s railing in front of me. I pull away, knowing exactly how I’ll defeat Snapback.

Roller coasters have powerful magnets that enable the seats to travel up to the dropping point. My jaw clenches as I push the carts off the track, conveniently toppling them on Snapback. That wasn’t my intention, but it is a nice benefit to hear him cry out in pain. I pry a large magnet off the rails and let its magnetic force fill my fingertips. It isn’t a Hero-grade magnet but I think it’ll work.

The carts fly through the air as Snapback bursts from the ground, renewed with the energy to win. I let him take a step forward, allowing him to think he might have a chance of defeating me. His chest heaves with each breath and his grin stretches across his whole face. He reaches out to grab my arms.

“Here, have a parting gift.” I shove the magnet straight into his chest. It presses against his sternum, harnessing onto the central location of his power. I let my own power rise from my toes and up through my chest, pushing everything I have through my arms and into the magnet. The scent of burning hair wisps off the magnet as Snapback’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he collapses.

I swipe my BEEPR over his chest and rush to the human who is still crouched by the ticket booth, the shard of wood clenched tightly in her hand. I wrap my arm around her and press the call button on my wrist.

The carnival rides sink into the ground, followed by the gravel roads and game booths and even Snapback’s jittery body, revealing the white marble floor of the Atrium. A glass bowl lowers from the sky, which is now the vaulted stone ceiling, revealing a panel of three examiners who have been watching my every move.

A woman’s voice echoes throughout the Atrium, “Congratulations on your successful completion of Hero Examination Level One.”

I smile, mouth open as I’m still out of breath but trying to make it look like I’m not panting. So many nights spent dreaming of this moment and now that it’s here it doesn’t even feel real. Except the pain in my face. That feels real.

The woman in my arm wriggles, complaining about her neck. “Shut up,” I whisper, still smiling toward the examiners. I loosen my grip and adjust my arm to cling around her shoulder instead of her neck. I’m not going to let her go just yet—she could purposely run away and ruin my mission. The examiners are tricky like that.

The first examiner’s voice pierces through some unknown speaker, echoing off the smooth walls, louder now that the Atrium is empty. My rapid pulse tunes out the gentle hum of power running through me. This is it.

“We will now read the results for Maci Might, born on the 19
th
of May, daughter of President Might who is of Hero status and Sofia Might, deceased. Sister of Max Might who is of Hero status and unnamed twin sister, deceased.”

I shift on my feet. I know it’s standard protocol and they have to say it, but come on. She died at birth so my dead twin sister hardly counts as a person. And the mention of my mother too? Thanks for the buzz kill. Examiner Hugo Havoc, one of Max’s favorite Heroes of all time, speaks up next.

“I am impressed with your quick restraint of Bammer. Although Snapback proved a challenge for you, you executed the upmost diligence and resourcefulness in restraining him. Retrievers were called and the victim saved. Well done.”

I bow my head in thanks then turn my attention to the third Examiner—the one who is a thousand billion million years old and named Lucy. Max calls her Lucy-fer. She peers at me over the bridge of her knobby nose and the fine lines above her lips crease.

“Laceration on left arm. Deduction of ten points for injury to a human.”

“What!” I twist my human around, finding the injury in question. Licking my thumb, I wipe it across her arm, smearing a long drip of blood away. The wound underneath is a small puncture that’s barely the width of my pinky. My panic subsides. “That’s a scratch. Not a
laceration
.”

“It barely hurts,” the human says.

All eyes in the fishbowl glance at each other. Two seconds pass. I’m going to lose my mind. Examiner Lucy writes something on her paper. One more second passes. Good god, could she move any slower? “Very well. Deduction of five—”

My heart stops.

Hugo Havoc coughs. “-er,
four
points for injury to a human.”

“Four points?” I blurt out, unable to control myself since my emotions have completely taken control. “It’s barely an injury! She’ll be fine in the morning.” The room is empty now but I gesture to the general area where Snapback held me pinned to the floor. “I almost lost it over there and you deducted nothing for that. But four points for a dumb scratch? Can’t you make it two?”

Hugo Havoc frowns in the sort of way my dad does when he doesn’t want to let me down. “Protecting the humans is our number one duty. You can capture a hundred villains and lose one human life and you would have succeeded in nothing at all. Four point deduction remains.”

If it weren’t for the pain in my chest, I’d swear my heart wasn’t beating. Four point deduction. My fingers tighten around the human’s shoulder as the weight of what just happened sinks in. Sixteen years of training for this moment and I won’t get a perfect score like my brother did two years ago and my dad did a hundred years before that. I’m barely aware of the human wiggling again but I’m sure as hell not letting her go. They haven’t awarded me Hero status yet. Only scores of ninety-five and above get Hero status. Anything less and I’d be stuck as a Retriever for the next decade. No thank you.

I straighten my spine, determined not to lose control in front of them. My four point deduction will have to do.

“Maci Might, daughter of President Might and the late Sophia Might.” Lucy-fer ends her sentence in what feels like the middle of it. Suspense must be her favorite pastime.
Just say it
, I repeat in my head.
Just say the words that I am a Hero now and put me out of my friggin misery.

She clears her throat. Shuffles her papers.

A bead of sweat and/or blood runs down my forehead.
Just say it!

“It is with regret that I must inform you—”

Wait.

WHAT?

“The board has made a unanimous decision—”

Why does Hugo Havoc look so sad? What is happening here? Why won’t the human shut
up
already? I’m barely squeezing her.

Lucy pauses. “—it was a unanimous decision, Maci—”

“I saved her!” My fingers dig into the human’s flesh as I shove her forward, presenting her like a trophy, alive and well. “I saved her life—” the words choke in my throat, as if I can’t say them fast enough. “You can’t do this to me!”

Lucy blinks. “—to deny your request to be granted Hero status.”

Moments. Seconds. Minutes.
Time
—if you subscribe to a linear way of thinking—passes. I don’t know how long.

Emotions, I’ve always been told, are stronger for Supers. Humans allow emotions to control their actions, letting deep sorrow or happiness fill them wholly and control their life. But Supers are superior to humans in every way. What a human considers a small amount of hatred is enough to turn a Super into a villain.

Keep your emotions in check
, Dad always says.
Especially for you, Maci. The Supers do not trust you. You cannot let them see you lose control.
I can still picture the look in his eyes when he told me those formidable words last night.

Do not lose control.

I promised him I wouldn’t.

But I guess that’s what happens when I rip the wooden stake out of the human’s hand and shove it into her heart.