Super Powereds: Year 1 (36 page)

“I told you: my energy moves like an appendage, taking whatever shape I require,” Thomas explained from his spot near the wall. “All of them move independently, and if one of them touches you then you are as good as restrained.”

Vince snuck a glance at Alex, only to see his friend working double time to try and deflect the beams from all angles. While Vince’s five were staying fairly closely-knit, the ones battling Alex were spread out, forcing him to block them at random intervals from every direction. At the rate things were going, Vince and Alex would lose, and soon. All it took was one beam getting through to snare them once more, and even if Alex could get himself free, one had to wonder how many times that trick would work. As for Vince, if he was caught that was probably the end of things.

In a moment of desperation a plan formed in Vince’s head. It was stupid and more than likely wouldn’t work at all. Still, it was a way to lose proactively, and Vince preferred that to just jumping around waiting to be picked off.

“Alex!” Vince called. “I need you to buy me thirty seconds. Can you do that?”

“No idea,” Alex replied. “Guess we’ll find out.” With that, Alex stepped forward and brought to bear all that he had. Thomas’s orange beams were slammed backward against the sheer might of Alex’s will. Try as he might to move them forward, Thomas kept striking an invisible wall, one that didn’t seem to be yielding one bit.

As soon as the beams were restrained, Vince stopped running and bent over. His breathing intensified, indicating he was trying to get his breath back before he tried whatever was to come next. He placed his hands on top of pockets and stared at the ground. He was about to do something crazy. He should be scared, he should be wary, he should be worried. Instead he was exhilarated.

* * *

Before either Sasha could say another word, Alice bounded through the door and flew up to the ceiling. It was higher in this room, at least fifteen feet down to the floor, and Alice hugged it as closely as she could, desperate for every inch she could put between herself and the two women beneath her.

“Someone want to explain what the hell?” Alice called down.

“He’s a mimic!” Sasha yelled.

“No, he is,” the other Sasha countered. “He snuck up on me and grabbed my hand.”

“Okay, so we’re all agreeing that one of you is a mimic at least, right?” Alice asked.

“Yes!” This was yelled in unison by both Sashas. “He can copy your appearance and powers if he touches you,” one of the Sashas elaborated.

“But it isn’t as strong as the original,” the other one chimed in.

“Well, sounds like a good show for me then,” Alice said, crossing her arms.

“Huh?” Technically this wasn’t done in unison, nor was the wording exactly the same, but there are certain gut-generated noises that have a universal meaning, regardless of the particular syllables used to create them.

“The real Sasha is faster, so she’ll win,” Alice said simply. “Seems like this will sort itself out.”

“It isn’t that simple,” Sasha informed her. “I’m not used to fighting someone who can keep up with me.”

“Yeah,” Sasha agreed. “He’s used to dealing with all kinds of powers, so even if I’m a little faster, he’s still got enough combat experience to give me hell.”

“Then what do you want me to do? In case you didn’t notice, I’m not exactly king of the combat hill myself,” Alice retorted.

“Just come lend a hand,” Sasha said.

“With two of us it’ll be that much harder for him,” Sasha pointed out.

Alice paused and gave it some thought, then pulled out her own yellow weapon. “Okay, Sashas, one question before I decide who to help. Your boyfriend is Vince, so you’ve spent a lot of time with us in Melbrook through the semester. So then, who is Mary’s best friend?”

“You,” said one of the Sashas.

“Hershel,” said the other.

“Bingo,” Alice said, dropping down next to the girl who had answered ‘Hershel’ and putting her weapon at the ready. “Let’s get this faker,” she said, smiling at the Sasha next to her and glaring at the one across from them.

“You got it-OW!” The Sasha responding was the one next to her. Coincidently, it was also the one Alice had slammed her weapon into the neck of as soon as she had looked across at her identical counterpart. The bracelet on her wrist flashed yellow, then turned clear as a small green arrow appeared in one spot.

“Damn it,” Sasha swore, and as Alice watched in fascination her features seemed to melt together, shifting and squirming until Alice found herself staring at a boy shorter than she with light hair buzzed close to the head. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you were planning the double cross. See you girls back up top.” With that he made his way to the exit indicated by the arrow and stepped out of the room.

“That was amazing!” Sasha squealed. She walked over to Alice and gave her a hug. “How did you know he was the fake one just by that?”

“I didn’t,” Alice replied.

“You... wait what?” Before the words were fully formed, Sasha felt Alice’s weapon dig into her side, sending its charge into her and eliminating her from the test.

“I said I didn’t know. I just asked a generic question you’d both answer. The one I picked to surprise was random,” Alice explained.

“But... you just eliminated the real me, too,” Sasha said in a hurt voice, still holding onto Alice in their now very-awkward hug.

“Yes, I did. I’d feel a lot worse about it if I hadn’t noticed you adjust your grip on your weapon before coming in for this hug,” Alice replied.

“Touché, my fellow crafty lady,” Sasha said, releasing the hug and checking her bracelet. “You’re more dangerous than you look. What would you have done if you’d taken out the real me at first, though?”

“Been eliminated, but done so with at least one win under my belt,” Alice answered.

“Not a bad plan. Good luck with the rest of the test. The longer you’re in here the tougher the remaining opponents will be,” Sasha informed her.

Alice nodded her understanding, then made a dash to get back into the relative safety offered by darkness. Also, she made a note to not go into any more of these damn lit rooms.

* * *

“Fudge,” Mary said as she and Nick rounded a corner.

“What?” he asked.

“Someone heard us. Someone tough. Hurry and follow me quickly. There’s a lit room nearby, and we have to get there,” Mary said, quickening her speed to a run.

“Why is it so important we get there?”

“Because I have no idea how to fight this guy in the dark,” Mary replied.

“Do you know how to do it in the light?”

“Not really,” she answered.

“Peachy,” Nick sighed, turning up the speed and following his diminutive guide as fast as he could.

62.

The door opened, showing only darkness outside of the well-lit room Nick and Mary had entered only moments before. There was a slight whooshing sound, and then another student was standing in front of them, yellow weapon ready at hand. Small wisps of smoke curled in the air for less than second around the area in which he had appeared. The boy himself wasn’t too impressive: short in stature and excessively lean. He had a wide grin on his face, though, one that left Nick feeling disconcerted, given that he and Mary had the advantage in numbers.

“Who’s this guy?” Nick asked, plucking out his own weapon and standing ready.

“His name is Gilbert and he’s a teleporter,” Mary informed him, her red weapon already drawn.

“He also has perfectly good hearing and doesn’t necessarily like being talked about as though he weren’t in the room,” Gilbert added. “Also, come on, there’s only like forty of us left, you couldn’t be bothered to learn everyone’s name?”

“I’ve got a shitty memory, so sue me,” Nick quipped.

“Better idea,” Gilbert replied, vanishing from his spot and reappearing behind Nick, lunging forward with his weapon. Nick slid to the side as soon he saw Gilbert disappear, though, so Gilbert’s sneak attack cleaved nothing but air. Before Nick could try a thrust of his own, Gilbert was standing on the other side of the room.

“I see how this guy could be problematic,” Nick admitted, reorienting himself to face his opponent’s new position.

“Exactly,” Mary agreed.

* * *

“Any time now!” Alex announced, sweat dripping off his forehead in intense concentration.

Vince took one last deep breath and stood up. Everything had worked so far; that in itself was a victory. Now came the hardest part. Vince put his hand into his left pocket and produced his weapon, the red coloring tinted a sickly shade from Thomas’s orange light. Vince felt a rush of adrenaline crash over him, elation not far on its heels. Do or die time. Vince couldn’t stop the grin that crept into the corners of his mouth.

“Clear me a path!” Vince yelled, charging forward without waiting for confirmation. If Alex could still do it then he would; if not then this wasn’t going to work anyway. As Vince pumped his legs, a part of his mind realized that this was only his second real fight since coming to Lander, and once again he was betting heavily on a suicidal charge right at his opponent. He really needed to learn another way to problem solve.

As his heart raced and his feet slapped the concrete floor, Vince noticed he was in Thomas’s range. He hadn’t been snagged yet, though, so that meant Alex was still keeping the energy at bay. There were still several more feet to cover, and as Vince drew closer he realized Thomas’s tendrils were bonding together, striking back with more power. Each attempt seemed to get closer to landing on Vince’s fast-moving form. It was going to be a photo finish.

In the end, Vince very nearly pulled it off. His finger was on the button and his arm almost completely extended when he felt his legs go out from under him. A few inches more and he would have driven his weapon into Thomas’s shoulder. That was simply not the case, though, as Vince was once more jerked into the air, his arms pinned to his torso. Without pause, Thomas lanced a shot of energy over at Alex, easily snaring and capturing him once more. From the way Alex was panting wearily, Vince had a sinking suspicion that he wouldn’t be able to break free again this time.

“Well now,” Thomas said, a little short of breath himself. “That was an impressive move. Marshal all your forces into one all-out attack. Risky, but very nearly effective.”

“Thanks,” Vince said, resisting the temptation to kick his legs futilely. “You were wearing us down the other way, so I figured why not give it a shot.”

“If your partner had been a hair stronger or if you had been just a bit faster... despite all our power, it often seems these fights come down to a very narrow margin of victory,” Thomas said as he lowered Vince to only a few inches off the ground. At the same time an orange tendril emerged and nimbly plucked an object from Thomas’s back pocket. It was his own yellow weapon, and the tendril was soon shaped into a hand holding the device, a finger carefully placed on the button to activate it.

“That really is neat how you can do that,” Vince said, watching the show.

“Thank you, I’ve found it useful. Hands, beams, shields, even needles. My energy takes any form I can think of and stays just as powerful regardless,” Thomas said.

“Very adaptive,” Vince complimented.

“Much appreciated. I am sorry yours was so limiting in this environment,” Thomas said graciously. He maneuvered the weapon upward. There was only a foot or so between himself and Vince, but he was still keeping that buffer, just in case. This silver-haired boy had shown himself occasionally unpredictable.

“I don’t know about that,” Vince said. “I mean, it’s limiting in some senses, but with a little creative risk taking it can actually be pretty useful.”

A “How so?” died on Thomas’s tongue, the victim of a sudden case of shock in multiple senses. Before the innocent words had a chance to be born and greet the world, Vince’s eyes crackled with red lighting, which leapt out and struck Thomas in the chest. The voltage shattered his concentration as well as temporarily disabling his motor skills. It also hurt like hell.

As Thomas felt the twitching in his muscles subside and his vision slowly come back into focus, he noticed his bracelet was now glowing clear with a green arrow. The “How so?” was gone, off to wherever unspoken words go when they are truly forgotten. A new combination was being assembled, though, and this phrase burst into the world unhindered by any outside influences.

“What in the hell was that?”

Vince was standing over him, having been freed when Thomas’s concentration was shattered. He looked vaguely different, and Thomas realized it was because they were being lit only by the meager light from his now clear bracelet.

A clattering sound reach Thomas’s ears, and after bathing the area once more in orange light, he could see that Vince had tossed him his weapon.

“Try it out,” Vince said. “I think you’ll understand then.”

Obediently Thomas picked up the red device and pressed its button. There was nothing, no arc of light from one metal point to the other, no soft hum of electricity, no difference of any kind.

“You drained it,” Thomas mumbled, his tongue still shaking off the after effects of voltage overload. “Shouldn’t that have set off your own bracelet?”

“I thought it might,” Vince admitted. “That’s why I didn’t do it when I first got down here. Once you were hammering away at us, though, it was obvious we were going to lose eventually. So I decided to give it a whirl.”

“You weren’t catching your breath for the charge,” Thomas said, more to himself than to Vince as understanding set in.

“I was drinking the whole battery down to empty. It was a big risk, because they told us the electricity was calibrated to react specifically with the bracelets. I wasn’t sure if my draining it would alter it anyway, so even when I took the shot I didn’t know if it would work,” Vince explained.

“And if it didn’t then you’d be stuck down here with no way to eliminate other students,” Alex concluded, wobbling his way over and joining them.

“Pretty much,” Vince said. “So I just wanted you to know, the only way I was able to beat you was by taking several gambles that very easily could have totally knocked me out commission.”