Ultimate Sacrifice

by Damien Benoit-Ledoux

  “Ditto that,” Quinn said, smiling at his uncle.

  “I could eat another steak!” Dad replied, sipping his red wine. “I’m unusually famished today; must have been my double workouts.”

  “Well, there’s plenty more, Tim,” Uncle Mark said, gesturing toward the kitchen.

  Dad laughed. “No, I’m good, really.”

  “I’m glad you guys enjoyed it, but I hope you saved room for the tuxedo cake I picked up from Beach Pea for dessert,” John—Mark’s husband—said. Both Daddio and Quinn moaned with anticipation.

  Quinn and his dads were enjoying dinner at Mark and John’s new luxury condo in Harbour Place, where they celebrated Daddio’s birthday. When Dad finished the last bite of his filet mignon and crossed his utensils in his plate, Mark and John busied themselves with clearing the table for desert. Then, John brought out a bottle of Port and four glasses. Mark walked into the dining room with the cake, complete with one burning flame.

  “I think you’re missing about eighty candles,” Quinn said, teasing his father.

  Daddio looked at him with shock. “I am not eighty-one!”

  Mark and Tim burst into laughter and John chuckled. Then, John said, “Oh, Quinn, don’t you know the world’s oldest axiom? Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill every time.”

  “Uh-huh,” Quinn replied. They sang happy birthday to Aren and then he blew out the candle. Despite the full feeling in his belly, Quinn wolfed down the generous slice of cake Mark served him.

  “I thought you were full,” Dad said, astonished.

  “I’m a teenager. I’ve got a hollow leg for dessert.” Then, he grinned mischievously. “I might not be able to outwit old age and treachery, but a fast metabolism and great skin is still on my side, guys.”

  “Rude!” Daddio exclaimed though a mouthful of cake.

  After dessert, they enjoyed small talk until it became time to leave. Quinn and his dads exchanged goodbyes with Mark and John and made their way outside to Bow Street. A light snow was falling, and it already accumulated an inch or so. Portsmouth was mostly quiet that night, except for some unusual commotion near the water’s edge.

  “Want to check it out?” Daddio asked.

  “Sure,” Dad said. They walked across the small park and deck nestled between the two brick condo structures and approached the metal railings at the bank of the river.

  A massive cargo ship, the kind that brought salt to Granite State Minerals on the Portsmouth side of the river, was listing away from the dock, seemingly caught in the rushing waters of the mighty Piscataqua.

  “Is that ship…coming loose?” Daddio asked, pointing at the scene.

  Quinn studied it for a moment. Though the bow of the ship remained moored to the dock, the stern was pulling away from its moorings.”

  “Oh, that’s not good,” Dad said.

  Several sharp twangs pierced the night air and Quinn saw three moorings cables snap, spraying snow and ice into the air. The ship groaned in protest as the rushing river pulled the stern away from the docks.

  Dock and ship crews scrambled together to secure the ship, but their efforts were in vain. Another set of cables snapped with a series of rippling twangs and the ship slowly swung out, pivoting at the bow, where only three cables remained. Caught in the outgoing tidal current, the ship rotated faster.

  Oh crap.

  “That thing’s big enough to do some serious damage to the Memorial Bridge when it slams into it,” Dad said.

  “If only Blue Speaker were here,” Daddio replied.

  The deck crews were scrambling to launch boats, but they looked too small and ill-equipped to stop the massive vessel without the help of the Moran tugboats—which were still in their berths.

  They won’t get here in time. So, this is it, isn’t it? This is when I reveal my biggest secret to my dads.

  It became clear his fathers wanted to watch the scene unfold, but Quinn knew he had to protect the bridge and save the ship. A pulsing alarm rang out from the Memorial Bridge and the road gates came down, shutting off the traffic flow. On each bank, blue lights flashed as police arrived and redirected traffic away from the bridge.

  Quinn stepped back a few feet and checked the windows of the condo units around them. He didn’t see any gawking faces looking at him. He assumed most residents would be watching the cargo ship and not the ground. He pulled off his hat, gloves, scarf, and stuffed them into the left arm of his jacket.

  He hesitated, swallowing nervously.

  You can do this…even though it’s like coming out all over again.

  The mighty cargo ship groaned as its aft section swung around and picked up speed, following the river’s course toward the bridge.

  “Um, dads?”

  “Yeah?” they said, not turning around.

  “Uh…you know how I’ve been…um…lying to you recently?”

  His dads looked at each other with confusion, then turned to face him. Quinn handed his jacket to Dad, who silently received it.

  “You want to talk about that now?” Daddio asked. “Wait, what are you doing?”

  “More importantly, what are you talking about, lying to us recently? Since when?” Dad asked.

  “Um, since Labor Day,” Quinn answered, his voice slightly nervous. He shook his head as a thought rattled around in his mind. “More like, since the hospital.”

  Quinn looked over his father’s shoulders at the fast-moving cargo ship. He shifted apprehensively on his feet and wiped his sweaty hands on his pants.

  “Yeah, well, it’s because, um, I’m…well, there’s no easy way to say this…”

  Shit, I didn’t know this would be so hard.

  “Why have you been lying to us, Quinn?” Dad asked. “And why are you choosing this moment to tell us? Put your coat back on.”

  “Because I’m Blue Spekter,” Quinn blurted out, igniting his eyes, then illuminating his body from head to toe. “And I need to go stop that ship from smashing through the bridge.”

  His dads mouths fell agape and their faces filled with surprise an astonishment. “I’ll fill you in at home; I won’t be able to fly back here. Gotta go save the day…err…night.”

  “Holy shit,” Daddio exclaimed as Quinn launched himself into the air and flew over his dumbfounded dads, soaring across the river and over the cargo ship to the aft end of the vessel that was closet to striking the drawbridge.

  That went better than expected, I think.

  Flying low, he found a tugboat point and placed his hands on the cold, metal hull of the ship and pushed hard.

  This is just like the Stratotanker, right?

  The ship didn’t slow down.

  He willed himself to fly faster, but the massive ship had gathered too much opposing velocity. Glancing behind him, he frowned at the fast-approaching bridge pier. Giving it all he had, Blue Spekter leaned into the hull with his shoulder and heaved his body against it, yelling as he exerted his super powers against the hull. The ship responded and slowed, but it wasn’t enough to stop the ship in time.

  The more Blue Spekter pushed against the stern, the more the bow swung around the pivot point he inadvertently created and threatened to reverse his problem. With the strength of the river catching the full length of the ship’s starboard side, he realized his problems were only beginning.

  All right, new plan. I have no idea how deep this part of the river is, but if I can freeze a column of water, I might be able to keep this part of the ship in place, so I can deal with the bow.

  When the aft section of the ship seemed to stop moving, Blue Spekter pointed a hand downward and blasted the river with ice power, creating a frothing, bubbling mass of ice that swung out from under him when the undertow caught it.

  Dammit, catch something already.

  Blue Spekter focused and slammed the water with more power. Moments later, the ice mass stopped moving and Blue Spekter sensed it anchor to the riverbed. With the bridge looming closer in his peripheral vision, a thick colum
n of ice formed, and the ship’s hull came to a stop against it.

  Satisfied it would hold given the cold weather, he flew to the bow and leaned into the tug point, slowing the mighty vessel. Learning from his previous attempt, he focused and blasted the water with intense ice power, quickly creating an anchored column of ice in the river that caught the bow of the ship and held it in place.

  Relaxing for a moment, he glanced over his shoulder and opened his eyes wide with amazement. He had stopped the cargo ship a mere twenty-five to thirty-feet from the piers and the drawbridge.

  A popping sound from the aft ice column grabbed his attention and he flew over to it. Landing on the column, he sent ice power down through his legs and feet and reinforced the struggling column. A moment later, a Moran tugboat came around the massive vessel, but there wasn’t enough for it to safely maneuver into place. At the bow, a second tugboat came around. He flew over to the tugboat and hovered over the bridge house.

  A crew member poked his head out of the door’s small window and shouted at him, making a cone with his hands. “You need to push the ship back so we can get in place, but you can’t let that ice rise to the surface. It could sink our tugboat or damage the pier when it breaks loose and floats into it.”

  “Okay,” Blue Spekter nodded, staring at the massive ice columns he created. Great, just what I don’t need…free range icebergs.

  He flew into place over the aft tug point and pushed against the full force of the oncoming river. The ship slowly moved back and the tug boat approached, ready to slip into place the moment it had room. At his left, Blue Spekter heard the other ice column cracking and popping. The tugboat closest to the bow sounded its horn with five short, rapid blasts.

  I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure it’s not a good thing.

  When he had pushed the boat ten feet away from the ice column, he reached out with his hand and mind and melted down the ice column, returning it to a liquid state that rushed away with the current. The tugboat’s engine revved and slid into place as the forward iceberg snapped in the depths and sprung into the air.

  Blue Spekter spun around and flew toward the iceberg, reaching out to it with his mind. A moment later, the frozen mass reverted to liquid form and splashed into the river. He spun around and caught the ship just above the tug point and pushed. He looked over his shoulder at the aft tugboat—it seemed okay.

  He glanced at the tugboat closest to him and saw a man yelling and gesturing at him, making some kind of spinning motion with his hand and pointing upriver. Using his super hearing, he understood the man wanted him to push the ship away from the bridge pier which was now a mere ten feet from his position. Once again, he leaned into the ship and pushed, his body responding with blue brilliance.

  The boat groaned but responded as the ship moved away from the bridge. Blue Spekter swung the bow around and the tugboat slipped into position.

  “Go to the stern and push, there’s no crew aboard to pilot the ship,” the tugboat crewman shouted, and Blue Spekter waved at him. He zipped to the back of the ship, pressed against the rear hull, and pushed. With the boat moving under his power, the aft tugboat hung back and swung around to the starboard side, so it could hold the ship in place against the dock when they returned to Granite State Minerals. The third tugboat chugged into place and approached the rear of the vessel where Blue Spekter was pushing. When its rubber-covered bow pressed against the hull of the ship, he backed off and hovered over the river, allowing the tugboats to do their job and return the cargo ship to the docks. A crewman waved at him from the bridge house and gave him a thumbs up. “Thank you,” the man shouted.

  He glanced over at the snow-covered decks near Harbour Place, where his dads and several onlookers had gathered to watch the heroic rescue despite the cold and snowy-weather. Turning around, he saluted to the police who waved at him as they re-opened the Memorial Bridge roadway. Landing on the roof of the vessel’s bridge castle, he accompanied it back to the dock and hung around to make sure the crews re-moored the cargo ship. When he was convinced the ship was safe, he took off and soared into Portsmouth, darkening his blue glow and turning himself invisible. He banked left and flew over Bow Street until he spotted his dads trudging through the snow, hand in hand, laughing as they excitedly talked about what they just saw.

  Quinn landed twenty paces in front of his dads and waited, checking his surroundings to be sure he wouldn’t startle anyone else when he reappeared. Satisfied the coast was clear, he stood tall and shimmered into existence.

  “Quinn!” Daddio shouted, jogging toward him with open arms while trying not to slip and fall on the slippery sidewalk.

  Grinning, Quinn reached out and received his father’s embrace. “That was amazing, son,” Daddio said, wrapping him in a giant bear hug. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”

  “You little turd,” Dad said with amusement, wrapping his arms around Quinn and Daddio. “I knew something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it was this.”

  “When did this start? Did hit have something to do with the accident in Rangeley?” Daddio asked.

  Quinn nodded and brought his index finger to lips. “I’ll tell you everything, but we can’t talk about it out here. Let’s get home. No more secrets, I promise.”

  ❖

  At the house, Quinn followed his dads into the kitchen. Dad pulled a bottle of Port out of the fridge and poured two glasses while Quinn filled a glass with filtered water from the refrigerator. Quinn’s dads sat at the kitchen island and looked at him. Anxiousness danced on their faces.

  “Okay, Quinn, tell us everything,” Dad said.

  Quinn nodded and took a sip of water. Then, he leaned against the counter and walked his dads through the past three-and-a-half months, beginning with their Labor Day weekend camping trip. He described the underground cave he and Blake discovered and the bizarre accident that triggered their powers.

  He told them how Victor Kraze had lied to them and explained the man’s involvement in the nefarious organization known as The Order. Then, Quinn disclosed how he and Blake discovered their powers and worked with Ron St. Germain, their geeky science teacher and comic book lover, to understand and gain control of their powers. He shared how Victor had tried to seduce them both to The Order, and how Blake fell for Victor’s promises of heroic grandeur. Quinn explained how he couldn’t support Victor because something in his gut told him not to trust the man after he caught Victor and Dr. Madison lying to their parents in the hospital.

  Next, Quinn described his superpowers to his dads and how he proudly owned several super suits courtesy of Ron’s brother that he had stashed away in his bedroom. He walked his dads through the highlights of his brief superhero career, including how he managed to sway the police chief and the Department of Homeland Security to his side, all thanks to Blake—also known as Dark Flame—and his recent, crazy behavior.

  “Is that why Blake was behaving so weird and you two had that big fight? Dad asked.

  Quinn nodded and explained the micro bugs Dr. Madison invented and The Order’s plan to create more superhumans. As he finished the story, Dad poured a second glass of Port.

  “But why did you feel you had to lie to us?” Dad said.

  “Honestly, I was so afraid of scaring you away because I didn’t understand what the hell was going on with me. In hindsight, it seems silly, but even Ron was apprehensive about me and Blake telling anyone about our abilities.”

  His parents looked at one another concern. “I’m not sure if we like Mr. St. Germain’s idea about hiding this from us.”

  Quinn raised his hand and shook his head. “Don’t worry. He quickly changed his tune and has been encouraging me to tell you. I’ve been the reluctant one because, well, I was so afraid you’d be freaked out by what I can do…because I’m different.”

  Dad smiled. “Rest assured, we are totally freaked out, but not in the horrible way you probably expected.”
r />   That’s good.

  “Yeah,” Daddio added, “this is more shock than horror. You have always been an amazing young man and now you have been given an awesome set of gifts. You can help people in ways no one else can, Quinn, and it’s…astounding. But at the same time, it’s freaky as hell to know our son is a super-powered person.”

  Quinn smirked. “Daddio, do you remember that awkward moment when you thought you caught me masturbating in my room?”

  Dad choked on his Port and Daddio chuckled. “Yes.”

  “Yup.”

  “Well, I mean, I was doing that, but I had also just discovered one of my powers and I was afraid you’d figure it out.”

  Daddio nodded.

  “That night, you came to talk with me. Remember, we had that awkward conversation about me being able to tell you anything?”

  Daddio scratched his head and nodded. “You were doing push-ups. I was hoping you’d come out, but you weren’t ready,”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t, so um, sometimes when I get surprised, I turn invisible.”

  “What?” His dads said together.

  Yeah, you spooked me and I didn’t see my reflection in the mirror just before you opened the door.”

  “Turn invisible now!” Daddio exclaimed.

  Quinn smiled and faded from view.

  His fathers’ mouths dropped open with surprise. “That’s so cool,” Daddio said. “That’s how you appeared to us on the sidewalk after saving the ship, right?” Quinn shifted and became visible again. He nodded.

  “I always knew you guys didn’t care about me jerking off, but I was so freaked out about discovering my own abilities because I didn’t know what triggered them or set them off. Initially, when Keegan and I first started dating, I would inadvertently make things shake and light bulbs around me would flicker.”

  His fathers looked at each other and burst into laughter. “That explains why the power gets a little wonky whenever Keegan is over and you boys are up in your room.”

  Quinn blushed. “Oh my gawd, what do you mean?”

  His father’s laughter became heartier and Dad happily reclaimed a little power over the conversation. “Apparently, when you guys are fooling around, the lights in the house flicker and sometimes TV signal gets a little pixelated.