Fame, acclaim, maybe even a reward. That’s all people ever wanted after all, wasn’t it? No, not everyone. Not Jason. Not me either, not if I could help it.
“I’m not…” I stammered. “I mean, I-I don’t know anything about…about–”
“Man, why are you pretending to care about us? The Wanderer doesn’t! All you two are doing is causing more of a mess over here!” another bystander complained. More of them cheered to that. It was starting to really piss me off.
“Yeah, you’re not some kind of superhero or anything!” someone else chimed in. “Your pal Wanderer already wasted that chance! Why don’t you just get out of here!”
“You don’t want my help…?” I questioned, hurt. “You seriously want us to just sit around and do nothing while things like this happen?”
“At least the complex might still be standing if you didn’t show up!” one of the residents protested. More cheering. More tingling in my hands.
“The arsonist was in there!” I argued, losing my temper at every comment. My hands shaking more and more with every word.
“You almost killed him, dude!” another shouted. More cheering. “Criminal or not, you don’t just kill a guy!” My chest felt like it was about to cave in on itself.
“Hey, are you the zombie-kid or what?” someone said from the crowd.
“What? N-No I’m not– I’m–!”
“Wanderer, are you trying to insist we need your help?” a reporter questioned.
“Ranger!” I yelled, taking an aggressive step forward. The suit, I suppose working in tandem with my thoughts and emotions, boomed my voice out like a megaphone. Everyone leapt back in fear, and some of the police readied their weapons.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the worst part.
A firefighter nearby swung his fire-axe at my back in an impulsive act of defense. It didn’t even get caught in the suit– it just bounced off. Still, the message hurt more than the axe ever could have, in my mind.
I turned to the firefighter, awestruck, and slowly turned back to gaze at the audience of people, now terrified. I glanced up a little, and saw not one, but two news helicopters now filming me from above.
My hands twitched, and I gazed down, feeling the air swirl around them; it was like I was sucking it in somehow. Controlling it. Transforming it. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like any of it.
I took a step back, and felt an even worse feeling of anxiety wash over me like a ten foot tidal wave, coming in full force. My hands shook like crazy, and the feeling grew worse. Some kind of pressure, or force or… something came from them. I looked down, and saw the pavement below me disintegrate. Its dust floated slowly toward my hands. It felt like a vacuum. It felt like I was manipulating something… the very ground itself.
Shocked at this strange new development, and feeling both outnumbered and overwhelmed, I shook his hands around in an attempt to cease the odd sensation, and burst into the sky without another word. I wasn’t proud of it, but honestly, in the moment, I just needed to get away.
I didn’t look behind me– I just went up as high as he could. I still wasn’t nearly as fast as Jason was, so it took me a while, plus my form was terrible at the moment due to the nerves, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away.
Away from all the angry voices. All the power I couldn’t for the life of me understand, no matter how much I thought on it; the power that seemed to ensnare me in it’s sheer strength, overpowering my own decision-making skills. Away from all the friends that seemed to reject me and his powers, despite praising Jason over every good and bad decision he ever made. Even away from Jason, who for whatever reason just could not reason with me: his best friend; his brother.
And then, after some time, I made it outside the atmosphere. I was gone.
“Apparently, that’s the last that anybody saw or heard from him,” Bell finished summarizing. We stood in his office a couple hours after Alannah and I had our… private fiancee time. Bentley was in the room too.
I had to come down to the base; I just knew in Bell’s tone whatever had happened was not good. It really sucks having such an astute gut.
The TVin Bell’s office was on, and it was a newscast of what had happened earlier from one of the stations that was broadcasting the fire and resulting hellstorm that followed. The newscaster woman was saying something about how Sam’s demeanor was similar to a child’s, and how this only furthered suspicions on the “conspiracy theory” on his identity as the “dead man walking.”
Bell said they were continuing to shut that down as best they could, but Sam’s public appearance made it all that much harder to dispute and just brush under the rug.
Not to mention, they were all going on about how not only was he “clearly” a worse Wanderer than me, but a concrete mold for a lot of the public’s view on us, saying that most of them either hate and/or are afraid of us now more than ever.
Bell sighed. Bentley also looked displeased. He didn’t look angry though, which honestly upset me more than anything else.
“Jason, I told you Sam would be a problem,” Bell repeated himself. I flicked my gaze up at him, and very evidently rolled my eyes, as Bentley held his hand out at me before I even said anything.
“Bell, he didn’t kill anyone,” I argued. “He just slipped up in front of the public. Who cares?”
“I do, Jason, and so should you!” Bell persisted. “This aggressive tendency, the borderline obsession over being not only a hero, but his own hero, it’s got Malek written all over it!”
“Or it’s just Sam being insecure! I looked in his head, Bell, he is not Malek!” I shouted in protest. “I slipped up in front of the public too, does that make me a bad guy?”
“No, but Jason you’re–”
“Plus, Malek was obsessed over finding an equal, not heroes and villains! There has been literally no evidence of that–!” I said.
“Will you stop interrupting and listen to me!?” Bell raised his voice. I went quiet. “He can control time, and even when you two were just sparring, he lost his temper and for a moment was almost equal to you in strength. That doesn’t seem odd to you?”
“He was not at my heights,” I said. “Believe it or not, I actually was going easy on him. And he’s not Malek! If anything he got the time thing, but that is it! Malek never had matter manipulation!”
“Jason, listen to me, you are biased! You’re not allowing yourself to see what’s actually happening here!” Bell continued. “Bentley, will you please assist me, here?” I looked to him, and he just stared at the ground with his mouth agape. That was new.
“I…I don’t know that the kid has enough evil tendencies to be considered Malek,” Bentley confessed. “He may be some kind of reincarnation, but… I don’t think so.”
“Thank you!” I said.
“That said,” he continued. Son of a bitch. “Those tendencies we’re seeing are still very much negative; they’re still Sam. And I think those qualities are lashing out the more the public rejects him, and the more we shoot down his wanting to deal with ‘human issues.’ He could be– and arguably is– a very potential, very real threat.”
The three of us were silent then for a good few minutes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Even Bentley, the one guy here who had my back about Sam before, was now saying that Sam was a threat.
That wasn’t even the worst part. It wasn’t even the worst part that everybody was turning their backs on me with this whole thing, it really wasn’t. The worst part was that the truth all of us knew– yet they refused to bring up– was if we did have to do something about Sam, there’d be no “we” about it. I would have to deal with him. The fact that I may have had to actually do that… I felt like I was going to throw up, I’ll be honest.
“Where is he now, does anyone know?” Bell asked. Bentley and I shook our heads. “Jason you’ve got the best chance of reaching him. Try calling.” He said it in much more of an order; a borderline bark. That got on my nerves a little bi
t.
“Yeah…” I muttered, walking out of the room. Bell sounded like he was going to say something, but Bentley stopped him, and let me walk out.
I got outside and went up to the roof to try and get better reception. After all, who knew how far he could be? I called, and it rang for a good minute or so, then switching over to his voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Sam; I’m not here right now, obviously, so uh… leave me a message and I’ll get back to you when I can. Thanks! Bye,” it recited, then beeped.
“Hey pal, I’m just wondering where you are right now. We’re all a little nervous for you, the U.S.B. and I,” I said. Then I paused for a moment, unsure how to continue. “The proposal worked!” I chuckled. “I’m Alannah’s fiance, and she’s happily mine… Well anyway, I’m uh, I’m gonna head back to the apartment for you; call me if you’re not there though. I just wanna make sure you’re okay, buddy. I’m not mad, I promise.”
I hung up, and took off into the sky, bringing the suit on. I realized recently I could will the suit to come out without having to press the button; I guess I had just become so attuned to it that if I thought it, it would appear. It was pretty neat.
Anyhow, I took off into the sky, and made it to the apartment in a couple minutes or so. It was funny, we used the terrace so much now we may as well have not owned keys to the place.
“Sam? You here buddy?” I asked, to no avail. There was nobody here.
Well, so I thought anyway.
I had just unclicked my suit off, when I heard some creaking from over by the bedrooms. I knew that if it were Sam, he would have responded; if it was anybody that I knew, they’d have said something. I don’t know why, or how, but someone was in here who was in no way welcome. So, naturally, the suit zipped back on.
I slowly made my way around the corner from the kitchen to the hall, and as I turned, a man with a knife screamed and lunged at me. I flinched a bit, but that was about it.
The knife, stopped against the suit’s metal like it had just stabbed into a brick wall, and the man looked at me both confusedly and rather angrily, if I’m honest.
“You…!?” he said.
“Me,” I confirmed. I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, and blasted out of the terrace and into the sky. “Who are you? Why were you in that home?”
“Why were you in that home!?” the man questioned. “Sam’s the name of that Ranger kid, right? I knew he was the dead kid! That zombie terrorizing the city!”
I glared at him, and only went higher and higher into the air slowly.
“What do you want with the Ranger?” I asked. “Why do you think he’s some kind of dead man walking?”
“Please, he all but confirmed it at that fire he basically caused himself,” he insisted. God damn it Sam…
“And you were going to try and kill him? A superhuman?”
“I’m just trying to give a madman like that what’s coming to him.”
“Madman? Coming from the home invader with a knife?”
“Man, have you even been paying attention to your zombie friend?” he asked. I tightened my grip, and his eyes seemed to show a bit more empathy. “He’s been all over the place night after night stories say, ‘trying’ to help people. He’s been destroying property, almost killing criminals, and there aren’t even any aliens in sight– or you.”
“You haven’t answered me,” I pressed. “Were you intending to kill him?” We were far too high to even see the ground anymore, as he quickly noticed.
“Him, or that blondey in all those pictures on the tables. Anything to get a message across that he’s not wanted here, and neither are his supporters,” God DAMN IT Sam! “Unless… that blondey is you?”
I sighed, and gripped him in a more secure position to my body, then taking off, fast. He screamed, but the velocity knocked him out in a second or so.
A handful of silent yet increasingly tense minutes later, and we were in China. I flew toward a prison, still suited up, and landed at the front doors. I saw people in the watchtowers and higher floors notice me from above, and freak out.
In just a moment or so, the door opened, and a man came out, with several guards behind him. I was just going to assume this was the warden, and I handed the man toward him, signaling my hands to be in handcuffs, and pointing at him.
Then I remembered, very embarrassingly, that my suit could translate what I was saying in another language, and I held my hands out, signaling them to wait.
“I’m delivering this man to you, and asking that you take him into custody. He is an attempted murderer, and mentally insane. I ask that you do me this favor without question, as I am in desperate need of assistance at the moment. Is that okay?” I explained, and then asked, the suit recycling my words out for the Chinese translation. The warden looked at the man, and then at me, still rather skeptically.
“Prove to me you are a man first,” he insisted, looking pretty damn stern. It took me a moment, but I knew there were limited options here, so I sighed, and tapped the back of my visor, letting it fall down.
Under almost any and all other circumstances, I would not be doing that, even if they were from another planet altogether, but I was feeling rather rushed.
I revealed my face, and forced a fake smile. Everyone seemed taken aback, and the warden slowly took a step forward and placed his hand on my face. I grabbed it lightly with my own, and looked him in the eyes.
“Please, help me,” I pleaded. He stared back into my eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, he nodded, and ordered his people to take the man away. “Thank you,” I said. He nodded in acknowledgement. Then, as quickly as I appeared, I left. I brought my visor back up, and headed home.
I called each of my friends– and, of course, Alannah– and told them all what was going on, and to try and stay as hidden and protected as possible. I called Bentley too, as I still wasn’t in the mood to talk to Bell, and asked him to send security to protect my friends, which he very begrudgingly agreed to.
“Ox!” I called out, still flying. A small blue and white orb appeared next to my head, and just like that, Ox was with me.
“Yes?” he asked. I could hear it in my suit.
“What the hell is going on!?” I let out, my anxiety starting to get the better of me again.
“It would appear that your friend Sam is beginning to lose his sense of right and wrong, and the people of your city are reacting,” he summarized.
“Do you have any idea where he is? Can you like, track his suit or something?” I asked. He was quiet for a while, and then made some sound of approval.
“Yes,” he said. “We know where you’re friend is.”
“Alright, well can you tell me please?” I pressed.
“Are you sure you wish to know? You’re vitals seem to be showing signs of increasing stress,” Ox warned. Nice, but I didn’t really care.
“I’ll be more stressed if I don’t find him than if I do,” I said.
“Very well. It appears he’s managed to get himself to your moon. He’s residing there; his vitals also appear to be quite high-strung,” Ox said. “We believe he intends to hide there, not unlike you.
“Holy…” I marvelled. I was surprised he had managed to get that far into space. He must have been seriously upset to push his powers that far that fast. “Alright, that’s where I’m headed then.
I took off to the skies, and was headed up up and away when I got a text. Which was always annoying to get with the suit on, because it vibrated the whole damn thing; it felt very uncomfortable.
Sam had texted me. It said: Please just leave me alone right now. I’m fine, I promise. I just need to be alone. That stopped me dead in my air-tracks.
On the one hand, I’d been there before; pretty parallel to Sam’s own experience, in fact. Fail the people of earth, freak out, feel lost, go to the moon. On the other hand, his screw up was a little more detrimental to our people– and each other– than my experience was.
I wanted to respect his p
rivacy and need to figure things out alone, but at the same time things were getting increasingly serious, tension-wise. If I didn’t handle this correctly, it could very well have made things infinitely worse.
Okay. Come back home soon though. I thought, sent, and then reluctantly turned around, heading back home.
It sucked. All of it. I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing– for Sam, for me, for everyone in our lives, everyone on earth, for Christ’s sake. I just wanted to hope that Sam would figure it out.
After all, he’s my best friend, and sometimes you just need to have a little faith in your best friend to know that things are going to be alright.
12
The Stranded
Think. Think, think, think. That’s all I could think to do. Just sit and think. After all, what else was there to do up here? It was cold and dark and empty. The suit helped keep me warm, but I could still feel the chill of the deadness of space biting at every crack in my armor.
Why Jason adored this place so much, I don’t really know. He always values private time more than me I suppose, but even then, he had that alien hologram– what was his name… Ox or something– to keep him company. I, meanwhile, had no one.
Which, apparently, was typical. Jason had all the company in the world, and I had to sit here on my own, without a care in the world, and yet the weight of it borne on my shoulders. One of two superheroes who actually wanted to protect the world we lived in, and somehow I was the one being looked at as rash, dangerous, ludacris. I was the one who, for whatever reason, was being thrown into question, tossed into the spotlight, the hot seat, the front and center, only to be torn down for trying my best at a second shot at life.
Jason had no idea what that was like. To die, to see and experience absolute nothingness– nothing retaining in your memory, no feelings or experiences or thoughts. I couldn’t even afford to be afraid of death, it just swiped existence out from under me. So yeah, of course I want to make the most out of it now that I’m back. I don’t want to go back out into the dark, alone without even a semblance of who I am.
The Wanderer (Book 2): Stranded Page 13
