Powerless

by Matthew Cody

  “Correct. The brothers of St. Alban’s took in unwanted children from all over the world. Those street urchins and cast-offs who were lucky enough to be rescued by the brothers were given a new life at the orphanage.

  “I was the unluckiest of those lucky few.”

  Daniel decided to try out a few guesses to keep the old man talking. “And when St. Alban’s burned, Johnny Noble rescued you from the fire?”

  “Also true. Johnny saved the children of St. Alban’s. I watched it all happen; I witnessed how all the great gifts were bestowed that night. When the meteor struck the orphanage, the whole place was consumed in green flame—the color of a distant star. It moved like a thing alive! And it killed without mercy, a witch fire.

  “It would have taken the children, too, if not for Johnny. Stupid, lucky Johnny—a dumb backwoods trapper who saw the fire fall from the sky and ran in to help. Without a second thought, he charged into that inferno and emerged … different.

  “It was something in the smoke, I think. Something that got in their lungs. It could not kill them, so it changed them. It transformed them all.”

  The old man’s face contorted with rage. “All but one! All but Herman Plunkett! Poor, picked-on Herman, who was hiding in the outhouse when the meteor hit. Poor Herman, who escaped the flames and missed his chance to become a god.”

  Daniel was afraid of the white-hot anger in Plunkett’s eyes, but he had to go on. There was a question that he had to have the answer to.

  “And my gram?”

  Plunkett’s rage instantly dimmed, and his shrunken little body sank in his seat. For the first time, he seemed unwilling to meet Daniel’s gaze. “Yes. Her power was the strongest of them all, next to Johnny’s, of course. When she flew, Daniel, you should have seen her. She shone so bright—like the sun….”

  Daniel pictured Gram lying in her bed—so sick, so frail. “And you took it from her!” he said through gritted teeth. “You stole it all away!”

  “NO!” shouted Plunkett, on his feet. “Not her! I mean … I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t my fault!”

  Plunkett began pacing back and forth now, wringing his hands as he went. The little trails of darkness followed his every move.

  “You have to understand, at first I didn’t know how to control it. And I would never have done that to Eileen if I’d known then …

  “I was never a popular boy, and of all the orphans at St. Alban’s, she was the only one who showed me a bit of kindness. I was … fond of her.”

  Plunkett’s eyes grew distant again as he remembered. “I saw what they could do. They emerged from the fire changed, all of them. I watched as they used their powers, hesitantly at first, then bolder and bolder each day. It was only a matter of time before they were discovered. Noble disappeared soon after the fire, the coward, and he left behind a dangerous legacy. Unchecked. All that power in the hands of children. He abandoned them. He abandoned us!

  “And it was only my bad luck that I wasn’t one of them. I became obsessed, I admit it. I stalked the old burned-out ruins of the orphanage for some answer, some clue as to how or why this had happened. Eventually my obsession paid off. In the rubble I found a black stone, a piece of the actual meteorite that had ignited the fire! I was ecstatic at the time; I suppose I hoped that the stone might give me powers like the others’. I nearly broke my neck jumping from trees with that stone clutched in my hands. I nearly burned myself alive trying to re-create that magic fire, but nothing worked. All I got for my troubles were bruises and singed eyebrows.

  “The disappointment was just too much. I went to Eileen and broke down in her arms. She had continued to be kind to me, even though I was more an outcast than ever. She even took me flying, Daniel….”

  Plunkett stopped now and wiped at one of his eyes. He had a faraway look on his face, and his mouth was twisted horribly. Whatever he was remembering, it was tugging at the old man’s soul.

  “I didn’t mean to do it. One minute Eileen was holding me and the next … she was lying on the floor. She was breathing, but her skin was so cold. But I was … I was … filled with flame!

  “It was the meteorite, you see? In my desperation I showed her the stone, and when she touched it …

  “The meteor gave her those powers, and the meteor took them away—and gave them to me! The stone acted like a kind of siphon. Eileen’s power came to me through the stone, only it changed. Rather than being filled with a bright light, I was consumed by darkness, my darkness. And it did whatever I wanted it to.

  “When Eileen awoke, she had no memory of what had happened to her, or of her powers. The powers protect their secrets well, and when they left her, they took her memories with them. But I now had a secret of my own.

  “Over the next few years I discovered that I needed to replenish the powers of the stone every so often. It needed to feed so that I might stay strong. The other children of St. Alban’s would have grown up to become menaces to society. Bullies with the power of gods. I took it upon myself to prevent such a tragedy. One by one, I took their power for my own.

  “But in time he returned. After years away, Johnny Noble returned to Noble’s Green. Somehow he knew what I’d been doing, and like a delinquent father he dared to come here and tell me to stop! He didn’t understand what I was trying to do, how I was saving the world. He dared to oppose me, to lecture me like I was still a grubby little orphan child! But with the stone, I now had powers of my own.

  “We fought here on the slopes of the mountain. Johnny was so much more powerful than I’d expected. That first generation of Supers, as you call them, was much stronger than those milksops you call friends. The powers have scattered and spread over the generations. Eric here is remarkable because he can fly and possesses strength, the Lee girl has speed to accentuate her flight, but back then there was no limit to the powers a single child might have.

  “You cannot imagine how strong Johnny was. He was a grown man, and since I’d only ever fought children, I underestimated him. In the end, I lost. I barely escaped.

  “After that defeat I resolved to hide and plan. I would face Johnny Noble again and this time I’d be ready for him. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance. The Second World War began and Johnny left for Europe. He never returned. I don’t know if he survived the war or not, but I never saw him again, regardless.

  “I started the comic books as my personal revenge fantasy, but in time I found that it gave me great satisfaction to dream up Johnny’s exploits and to profit off them. When you came to see me bearing those old books, well, the irony was just too delicious to ignore.”

  Daniel made a face at the memory of that encounter. “So all because of a meteor? A meteor hits and Noble’s Green instantly becomes a town full of super-children?”

  Plunkett glowered at him. “No, I did not say that. The meteor that struck St. Alban’s was certainly part of the Witch Fire Comet. The alien energy from that comet changes humans, somehow. The phenomenon is rare, and though certain children continued to display abilities similar to the orphans’, none of the succeeding generations were nearly as powerful as the first. I don’t know exactly how these powers are passed on. A recessive gene, perhaps. It’s a mystery I’ve yet to solve.”

  Plunkett rubbed his chin and frowned. The fact that some things about this place still baffled the old villain gave Daniel a small bit of satisfaction.

  “So the Rules and all of that,” Daniel said, pressing him further. “That was all you?”

  “Of course,” answered Plunkett. “Without Johnny to stop me, my path to power was assured, but I still needed order, a way to control the children while protecting my secret. And how else do you control a group of rowdy children? You give them rules to follow.”

  “But in the end you became a villain, not a hero.”

  “I am the earth’s greatest hero!” shouted Plunkett, startling Daniel. “For seventy years I’ve kept this world from being overrun by these menaces. Imagine a world where the children were al
lowed to reach adulthood with all that power. Even this pathetic, weak batch. Imagine what kind of damage Clay Cudgens could do as a grown man.”

  Daniel pointed to Eric’s still form lying on the floor. “Eric isn’t Clay. He’s a good kid, and all he wants to do is help people.”

  “That’s true today. But what about tomorrow? Or next year? Or the year after that? Eric has yet to suffer jealousy. What will he do the first time he has his heart broken? What kind of man will he be then? We both know something of poor Eric’s family. All his life, men have bullied him, pushed him around. What happens the day he decides to push back?

  “Real life is not a comic book, Daniel. And we are all better off with Johnny Noble dead. This world doesn’t need superheroes.”

  “No, just you,” Daniel muttered, and immediately regretted it. He wondered if the old man might strike him. But the moment passed, and Plunkett soon let out one of his cackling chuckles.

  “You try and test me, but I know that I’m right,” he said. “We are like Holmes and Moriarty battling wits! But will our struggle be our doom, I wonder? Will tonight be our Reichenbach Falls?”

  Plunkett removed an oil lamp from its sconce. Shining its light on the far wall, he pointed to the paintings there. “You see, Daniel—this has all happened before! Look! Look close, boy, and tell me what you see.”

  Daniel squinted in the gloom, and looked at what appeared to be the scene of a battle. Armies with spears and knives, fighting an enemy from above.

  An enemy from above …

  “They’re … they’re flying,” said Daniel.

  “Yes. The tribes here fought a war that could not be won, against the very gods themselves.” Plunkett walked along the wall, illuminating the illustrated scenes as he went. “The Witch Fire they called it, a fire from the sky that burned the mountain. It came only once in many generations, and only the very eldest of them would live to see it twice. They thought it was an evil spirit that lit the sky and burned the forests, scaring away the game that the tribes depended on for survival. Finally, one year a generation of young warriors set out to meet the spirits of the Witch Fire in battle. The meteor fell from the sky and twenty young men marched out to meet it. Seven returned. And they came back changed. They left as boys and they came back something … more. The seven young warriors started out as protectors, but as they grew older, they became enemies of the tribe. Of all tribes.

  “In time, they destroyed an entire people because no one was strong enough to challenge their power. In time, they destroyed themselves. That is the secret of the mountain, Daniel. But it’s more than the past—it’s the future that I am trying to prevent.

  “By studying the cave paintings, and by studying the geology of this place, I’ve calculated that the Witch Fire Comet, or Spirit, or whatever it is, returns to this place every seventy or so years.”

  Daniel did the math quickly in his head. “That means that it is …”

  “It’s coming back. And when it does, we must be ready.”

  “We?”

  Plunkett nodded, his voice softening. “It is presumptuous of me to think that I can defend this world alone. I am an old man, and though the power of the stone has granted me the strength to live a long life, no one is immortal. Every man must leave behind a legacy. When the sky lights up with fire again, there will be born an entirely new generation of super-beings, but they will be more powerful than the weak, diluted children of today. They will be like the gods of old—pure, strong and dangerous.”

  Plunkett reached into his sweater pocket and withdrew a small ring. It looked as if it were carved from coal, but there was a slight emerald sheen to it in the lantern’s light. “With my powers, it was an easy thing to make myself a rich man. The company that dug this quarry was just one of many that I owned. A limestone quarry was simply a convenient cover for the real work going on here, the real quest. We dug this quarry not to search for limestone but to find this!”

  “What is that?” Daniel asked, though he already knew the answer.

  Plunkett fingered the ring. “It took years of digging, and many millions of dollars, to scrape together enough fragments of meteorite from the layers of rock and earth just to fashion this ring. A second weapon to defend against the future.” Plunkett held out his hand, the ring glittering in his palm. “But it was worth it, so that I might have an ally, a successor.”

  “That’s what this is all about?” asked Daniel, incredulous.

  “You’re the perfect choice. You’re smart, brave. And, most importantly, you are not one of them! You’re an outsider, just like I was. I never had a family and there is no one to carry on when I am gone. Fate brought us together, and you can’t fight fate, Daniel. Fate has delivered to me Eileen’s grandson, and together we will keep this world safe. You will come to understand the wisdom of what I do and why I do it.

  “I’m offering you a greater gift than has ever been offered. You can finally fly, Daniel. With time, you will be able to do anything.”

  Daniel stared at the ring in Plunkett’s hand. It was as if someone had taken the ground out from underneath his feet, and he was dizzy, poised to fall, with only Plunkett’s words holding him up.

  “What will it do?” Daniel asked, his voice barely a whisper. “Will it make me be like you?”

  “No, Daniel. It will make you like him,” Plunkett said, pointing to Eric’s still form. “All of his power will be yours, if you are brave enough to take it.”

  Daniel hardly heard the stone door moving behind him; he was only dimly aware of the sound of Mollie’s voice calling his name from somewhere far away. For the last three months Daniel had watched his friends do the impossible. He’d flown with them, played with them and even occasionally fought against them—all the while weighed down by the knowledge that he’d never be like them. Daniel knew what envy was—it was the ugliest of emotions, Plunkett was proof of that—but until now he’d been able to keep his hidden deep down. It was easy when you had no other choice. But now here was Daniel’s chance to be special, to be more than the new kid, to be powerful….

  Daniel reached out, and Plunkett dropped the ring into his palm. It felt cold and heavy in his hand. But he didn’t put it on. He just stared at it, and beyond he was aware of Eric’s helpless form stirring in the dark.

  “Good, Daniel,” Plunkett said as tendrils of darkness slithered around the old man’s body. The blackness flowed out from a burning ball of green flame beneath his sweater, and its tentacles snaked through the folds of his clothing and wrapped around him until he was, once again, a living shadow.

  “Now,” he said in the Shroud’s throaty whisper, “it’s time to show your friends what real power is!”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Reichenbach Falls

  Mollie was the first to act, of course. It was a predictable move, not just because of her speed but because of her anger. Daniel knew that she would be itching for a rematch and that first blood would belong to her.

  The Supers had insisted that the Shroud fight them in the open—that much at least was good planning. They had no desire to face Plunkett in the shadows and confined quarters of the cave, and Plunkett seemed willing to oblige. He flew out of the tunnel like a shot, his eerie laughter echoing off the quarry walls, but thanks to Rohan, the Supers were ready. No sooner had Rohan shouted his warning than Mollie pressed her attack. She aimed for his legs, and at the speed she was moving, it must have felt as if he’d been hit by a car.

  Knocked off balance, the Shroud tumbled down the hill to the bottom of the ravine, where Clay was waiting for him. Clay’s first punch sent the Shroud soaring through the air, slamming him against the quarry’s stone face. As the shadowy villain slumped to the ground, Bud started laughing, polluting the air with his sour stench.

  “Look at that, Clay,” giggled Bud. “You clocked him with one punch!”

  Clay spat into his hand and wiped it on his dirty jeans. There was a dark sheen of something stuck to his knuckles. “Y
eah, but it was like hitting an oil slick. Thought you guys said this guy was going to be tough.” Clay turned his back on Plunkett and glared up at the rest of the group. “You losers were scared of that?”

  “Don’t turn your back on him! Stick to the plan!” shouted Rohan, but it was too late. There was a hissing noise, a rustle of movement, and from the Shroud’s crumpled body, a long tendril of darkness spun toward Clay, lassoing his neck like a noose.

  “Strong child,” whispered Plunkett. “Now it’s my turn.” The tendril twisted as the Shroud floated up into the air, and Clay’s face turned blue with the effort to breathe. Bud was no longer laughing.

  “Time for Plan B,” shouted Mollie.

  “What’s Plan B?” asked Rohan.

  “Hit him! Hard!”

  She flew at Plunkett again, but this time he was ready. She struck a wall of blackness that tangled around her arms and legs. She might just as well have flown into a tar pit.

  Bud was next, his cloud of noxious gas engulfing the Shroud, but to no effect. Whatever the Shroud stuff was made of, it protected him from Bud’s attack.

  From the entrance of the cave, Daniel watched as the Shroud took down the Supers’ two offensive fighters. Without Clay or Mollie the battle was over; the rest of the group just didn’t know it yet. As Daniel watched, Louisa appeared next to Mollie, phasing right through a boulder to reach her. She was trying to free Mollie from the tarlike blackness, but she seemed to be making matters worse as the clinging stuff spread over Mollie’s body, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Bud and Rohan were desperately tugging at the noose around Clay’s neck, but to no avail—Clay was strong and nearly indestructible, but he was gasping for breath that wasn’t there. Even he couldn’t last much longer.

  And through it all, Daniel did nothing. He turned his back on the battle and walked back into the cave, to sit by Eric’s side. Already the color was returning to his friend’s face, and his breathing was getting stronger. He’d live, but by the time he woke up, it would be too late. The Shroud would have already won.