Paul felt the heat rush to his face and he reluctantly broke the embrace. “Um, we still have a few hours before daylight. I was thinking…uh, we could, you know, take care of the city.” Actually, he wanted to take her out on a date, but he didn’t think that the movie theaters were ready for him yet.
Angela nodded with a knowing smile on her face. “I kind of thought you’d say that.” She kissed him fondly on the lips. “Catch me if you can.”
With a graceful leap from the roof’s edge, she soared away. Paul lingered a moment before jumping the twenty-foot gap to the next building. He couldn’t fly, but he could jump up to sixty feet or more and ran approximately three times as fast as a normal human. His powers were growing daily, and he wondered just how much he would change.
Right now it was all fun and games, but as he scanned the empty streets, he made a silent vow. The nightmares for the crooks were just beginning and the horror would be all theirs. With that thought in mind, he ran to join up with Angela, who was winging her way over the city.
Also available from Finch Books:
The Menagerie
J.S Frankel
Excerpt
Chapter One
Memories of days past
Karen Fox rubbed her right leg—the bad one—sighed, and figured that she might as well get out of bed. Hospital beds weren’t all that comfortable, so she turned over onto her left side, slid out of bed and stood up. She gripped the cool tiles with her toes while she teetered unsteadily for a moment. Once she regained her balance, she limped over to the window. Scents of summer—fir and pine trees, hollyhocks and azaleas—drifted in through the window along with the sounds of shouting. She muttered, “It would be a nice day today.”
Today was the middle of July, the time was around noon, and although the Portland weather was hot and dry, a cool breeze swirled around her. It was different from the air conditioner. It was natural and pleasant, whereas the air-conditioning unit put out a steady stream of dry air that made her cough. Pleasant or not, it didn’t matter. Instead, she shifted her gaze to the sky and prayed for rain.
Since being brought here roughly two months ago, Karen had grown to despise sunny days and hate the summer season. What she hated more than anything was the idea of people going around in shorts and tank tops and riding bikes and everything else sixteen-year-old kids did when they were fully capable.
Now, all the fun of life had been taken away and she just wished—selfishly so—for it to rain and dampen everyone else’s fun. Let Mother Nature do her worst and not just rain but storm. Bring on a flood, a volcanic explosion or something else equally dire. If she couldn’t enjoy life, why should they?
“Don’t be selfish,” she whispered a second later, and took back her wish. Thinking about it, it was just plain mean. Even if life didn’t work the way she wanted it to, she couldn’t go around blaming anyone for what had happened. Part of her said that it would be fun. Everyone deserved a little misery in their lives. However, the other part, the rational and decent part, said no.
“Hey, what’s up, Megan?”
The question floated up to Karen’s position, and she followed the source. There, a few people she knew from her school rode by and she moved away from the window, flattening her back against the wall. Doubtful they saw her, as she was on the second floor, and who looked up while riding along, anyway?
After sneaking a peek, she saw their bicycles disappear down the road and breathed a faint sigh of relief. The breeze blew some strands of her long, dirty blonde hair around her face and she brushed them away with an impatient flick of her hand.
Letting out a series of grunts as she moved back to the bed, she winced with every step. The accident had been a bad one. She’d been in the back seat of her father’s car, enjoying the ride and then…then the bright light had come from the onrushing car. She’d heard her mother screaming, her father yelling “Get down!” and the sound of metal being crushed…
* * * *
May fifteenth, two months ago
“You’ve had an accident,” one of the nurses told her in a kindly voice. A middle-aged woman, heavy with a tangle of dyed black hair, she wore a strained smile.
“What happened?”
Karen’s first words…accident victims always said that, didn’t they? This had been her first real accident. Biking and running and roller skating had always been part of her life. Bruised knees and elbows came with it, but now, this was major, so she asked the obvious question.
The lights in the room were dim and shadows lurked in every corner. Moonlight came through the drawn shades. A smell of antiseptic hung in the cool air and stabs of pain lanced through every fiber of her being. Her right leg hurt and had a heavy cast on it, suspended by a sling that hung from a support bar attached to the bed. Thick bandages had been wrapped around her right forearm. An intravenous tube ran from a bag in an overhead support and fed into the vein in her right arm.
She didn’t take much note of that, though. Instead, she focused on the pain. Her right cheek hurt monstrously, and bringing her good arm up to feel her face, her fingers encountered more bandages.
“You were in a car accident,” the nurse gravely intoned. “You don’t remember it, do you?”
“Not much,” said Karen, struggling to think. “Where are my parents?”
“I’m sorry.”
Just two words, but they carried a lot of meaning, and the meaning knifed into Karen’s head with all the immediacy of a thunderbolt. A second later, the tears began. “I want to see them,” she sobbed out. “Where are they?”
As she struggled to get off the bed, the nurse gently pushed her back and said, somewhat reluctantly, “They’re…in the morgue. You just had an operation and you need to rest.”
“I want to see them!” Karen screamed and once more tried to get up, lashing out with her good arm. Her fist connected with the nurse’s cheek. She heard the nurse grunt then another nurse ran in, a needle at the ready. Karen felt it stab her arm then…nothing.
Waking up the next day, pain still there but somewhat more manageable, Karen noticed the sun streaming in and she felt a little stronger. The nurse whom she’d belted walked in with a massive bruise on her cheek, but a professional smile in place. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes.” Karen nodded and mentally steeled herself for what she was going to ask and what she had to see. “I’m sorry about hitting you.”
The nurse inclined her head slightly. “You were upset. I understand.”
It was good that someone understood. “Can I…see my parents now?” Karen asked in a faint voice.
“I’ll get the doctor.”
Long story short, the doctor—a reed-thin man somewhere in his fifties—took her in a wheelchair down to the morgue. Along the way, he said that his name was Doctor Jensen. She had to be strong. There was nothing that anyone could have done, and once she saw the words Hospital Mortuary, she choked up and began to sob once more.
There they lay on separate tables. Karen’s tears fell faster when she saw the bodies of her parents lying still and quiet, cried some more as she touched her mother’s face and begged her to wake up, all the while knowing that her mother would never wake again, then the doctor wheeled her back to her room. There, the nurse helped her into bed.
“What happened?” Karen asked after she’d semi-composed herself.
“You had a very bad accident,” Doctor Jensen said, taking a chair and sitting next to the bed. “Your right leg was shattered, and we’re worried that there might be some nerve damage. We’re not sure yet. You have major abrasions on your right forearm, and you might have a slight concussion. You also lost a lot of blood. Things were touch-and-go for a while, but we got you back.”
Facts given and manner grave, he got up from the chair and delivered his prognosis. “You’re young. You’ll heal. In time, you’ll be capable of doing most things.”
Going over to the door, he turned back with a somber expression on his face. “I�
��m truly sorry about your parents.”
With that, he walked out, and feeling totally bereft, Karen began to cry all over again. Capable, she’d be capable of doing most things, the doctor had said.
Capable…she hated that word. It implied that if one was not capable, then they were no one. She suspected that in spite of all the rehab they had planned, in spite of all the water walking and weight training to come, in spite of all that and the fact that she was young, she wouldn’t be all that capable.
A couple of days later, she got the details from the police, and they placed the blame squarely on the young driver who’d decided to get drunk, hop in his car and cruise at a hundred miles per hour down the highway. “He got drunk. He went too fast, and he lost control,” said the policeman, who came in to fill in the missing pieces.
That was it, eleven words summing up the death of her parents. Blame it on the same kind of moron who decided to speed up, like he was thinking, “I can handle it!” and stepped on the accelerator, jumped the concrete divider, and slammed into her parents’ car at high speed, killing them in a flash, just like that, and trapping her in the back seat, her right leg crushed and broken into something resembling a jigsaw puzzle…
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About the Author
J.S. Frankel was born in Toronto, Canada, a good number of years ago and managed to scrape through the University of Toronto with a BA in English Literature. In 1988 he moved to Japan and started teaching ESL to anyone who would listen to him. In 1997, he married the charming Akiko Koike and their union produced two sons, Kai and Ray. J.S. Frankel makes his home in Osaka where he teaches English by day and writes by night until the wee hours of the morning.
Email: [email protected]
J.S. Frankel loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.finch-books.com.
Also by J.S. Frankel
The Menagerie
Beginnings Page 22
