Super Heroes (The New Super Humans #4)

by T. M. Franklin

  Copyright © T.M. Franklin, 2019

  Published by Calava Press

  Portions previously published as The Talisman Chronicles (2016)

  The right of T.M. Franklin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

  This work is copyrighted. All rights are reserved. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover images by: ©NeoStock - www.neo-stock.com/

  ©konradbak–stock.adobe.com

  ©CURAphotography – stock.adobe.com

  ©selenit – stock.adobe.com

  ©Kharchenkoirina – stock.adobe.com

  Cover design by: T.M. Franklin

  Visit the Author’s Web Site at

  www.TMFranklin.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Special Thanks To…

  About the Author

  Also by T.M. Franklin

  “Miranda!” Chloe pounded on her best friend’s bedroom door, adrenaline and hope making her heart race. Not willing or able to wait for a response, she whipped open the door to be greeted by Miranda blinking sleepily at her from the bed.

  “Chloe? What's going on?” She rubbed her eyes, and Maia stumbled into the hallway from her own room, awakened by the commotion.

  “Good, you're here too,” Chloe said, dragging Maia over and pushing her unceremoniously toward the bed. The redhead collapsed next to Miranda, who barely pulled her legs away in time.

  “What's happening?” Maia asked Miranda through a yawn.

  “I have no idea,” she replied.

  Chloe paused in pacing across the room to turn toward them, holding up her hands. She took a breath, not quite sure how to say it. Finally, she just blurted it out.

  “He's alive,” she said.

  The two exchanged a confused look. “Who?” Miranda asked slowly.

  Chloe clenched her trembling hands together, almost unable to believe it herself. “Ethan,” she replied. “Ethan's alive.”

  Silence was the only response as Miranda and Maia looked at her like she was crazy.

  “Chlo—” Miranda began.

  “I know what you're going to say!” Chloe snapped, feeling more than a little unhinged. She could hardly be blamed, however. The vision in the window had hit her like a punch in the stomach, knocking the air out of her and leaving her unable to catch a breath.

  He's alive.

  The image of Ethan bound in the darkness, floating in some kind of oblivion, consumed by Chaos and consuming it.

  His chest moving, breathing . . . in . . . and out.

  He's alive.

  She knelt on the bed between the other two girls. “I had another vision,” she explained. “I know what happened . . . what we all saw. But I'm telling you, he's alive. I know it.”

  She could tell they didn't believe her, and she couldn't really blame them. It sounded crazy. It was crazy. Ethan had sucked in all that malevolence and vanished into thin air. Chloe had known—known deep inside her—that he was dead.

  But now she knew, just as surely, that she'd been wrong.

  Maia glanced at Miranda, then swallowed thickly. “But how, Chloe? How can he be alive?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Then how can you know—”

  “I don't know!” she spat, jumping to her feet to pace again, tugging on her hair. “I don't know. I can't explain it. But I had a vision. I saw him and it was like all the others at first. The darkness all around him, stifling, the black smoke wrapped around him, moving in and out of his nose and his mouth.” She paused a moment, lost in the memory, then snapped out of it, turning her attention to her friends.

  “That's when I realized he was breathing.”

  Miranda got up and approached slowly, like Chloe was a spooked horse.

  “Chloe, I know you want to believe that,” she said. “But seeing his chest moving or the smoke going in and out—it doesn't mean—”

  “But it does.” Chloe knew she sounded desperate. She was desperate. “I'm sure of it.”

  Miranda stopped Chloe's frantic pacing by taking her hand. She eased open Chloe's white-knuckled fist, and pressed it gently between her palms. “Chloe, you're the one who told us he was d—” She broke off, shaking her head. “That he was gone.”

  “I know.” Tears pricked her eyes. “I know. But I'm telling you now, he's alive.” She gripped Miranda's hand tightly. “It sounds crazy, but I'm not clinging to some delusion. I know this. I feel it as sure as anything I've felt before. It's true. I know it is.”

  She paused, looking from one girl to the other, fighting back frustrated tears. “I need for you to believe me.”

  “I do,” Maia said quietly. “I believe you.”

  “Me too.” Miranda nodded. “Of course I do.”

  Chloe let out a slow breath, relief flooding through her. Somehow it was easier to deal with the knowledge having shared it. “Thank you.”

  “But Chlo,” Miranda continued. “What can we do about it?”

  “We have to find him,” she replied. “We have to find him and we have to save him.”

  They joined hands in a loose circle, no one saying another thing. Because they all knew the unspoken question that hung in the air. The question that had no answer.

  How?

  They had no idea where Ethan was . . . if they could even get to him, let alone free him. And if they did, how did they deal with the Chaos contained inside him?

  After a moment, it was Miranda who spoke.

  “All right. Well, it sounds like there's no resting on our laurels,” she said. “The Order may have saved the world, but that's no reason to get lazy.”

  Despite her inner turmoil, Chloe's lips lifted in a tremulous smile.

  “She's right,” Maia said, getting to her feet. “We need to come up with a plan. That's what we do. We'll figure this out.”

  Chloe inhaled deeply, a rush of gratitude warming her. “Thanks, you guys.”

  “No need to thank us,” Miranda replied as she grabbed a sweatshirt off the back of a chair and yanked it over her head. “Just make the coffee while I grab my laptop. I have research to do.”

  “I'll call the others,” Maia said, already out the bedroom door.

  “Tell Beck to bring doughnuts!” Miranda called after her.

  “Way ahead of you!”

  Chloe stood frozen as Miranda tucked the laptop under her arm, heading for the stairs. “You coming?” she asked, looking back at her friend.

  Chloe nodded, but didn't move. She’d been prepared to have to persuade them, but now that she had, she didn’t know what to do next.

  Miranda sighed and approached her, tugging her into a one-armed hug. “We'll find him,” she whispered.

  “Right.”

  “We will.” Miranda pulled back and looked Chloe in the eye. “You're not in this alone. You know that, right?
”

  “Yeah.” Chloe brushed away the dampness on her cheeks. “Yeah, I know.”

  “So then, buck up, buttercup,” Miranda said, throwing her arm over Chloe's shoulders to draw her toward the door. “We need to go rescue your boyfriend.”

  Chloe sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”

  “And then, we're taking a long vacation,” Miranda said.

  Chloe laughed shakily.

  “I'm serious. Hawaii or something. All of us.” Miranda led her toward the stairs. “I don't care if aliens land or werewolves attack Gatesburg, we're taking time off.”

  Chloe's heart filled with warmth and affection for her friend. Of course Miranda would be there for her. She always was.

  “We definitely earned it.” She smiled.

  “Right?” Miranda nodded enthusiastically. “But first, we find Ethan.”

  “First,” Chloe agreed, “we find Ethan.”

  They sat around the coffee table in the living room with steaming cups of coffee and a mismatched breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, toast, and cold pizza. Chloe felt relieved, maybe even a little hopeful, even though she still had no idea how they would proceed, at this point. Maia had tried to call the others, but it was still pretty early, so all she got were voicemails. She'd left messages asking them to come over as soon as they awakened. After that, the three roommates could do nothing more than wait.

  Soon, the adrenaline wore off, however, and they found themselves drowsing on the sofa, Maia curled in one corner, with Chloe sprawled in the other, her feet up on the coffee table. Miranda sat almost snoring in the arm chair, her open computer perched precariously in her lap.

  A knock at the door jolted them all out of their doze.

  “Finally,” Maia muttered, rubbing her eyes as she went to answer the door.

  Chloe got up for another cup of coffee, then thought better of it and brought the whole pot into the living room. She was surprised to see Beck hauling a huge duffle bag over his shoulder, which he dropped onto the floor with a thud before collapsing onto the sofa.

  “So, I have a proposition for you,” he said to the room at large. “How'd you like another roommate?”

  Miranda set her laptop aside and grabbed another slice of pizza. “I thought you were staying at Archie over the summer.” Archimedes Hall was Beck's dorm. Prestigious and intended for the overachiever, it wasn't easy to get in, but Beck had managed, and as far as Chloe knew, he liked it there.

  “I thought I was, too,” Beck said with a groan, stretching out his bulky frame as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Turns out the building has termites. They have to fumigate, and then repair the damage. I'm out for at least a few months.”

  “That sucks,” Maia said, retrieving a clean cup from the kitchen and offering it to him.

  He poured himself some coffee. “Yeah, so, like I said. You want another roommate?”

  “Of course,” Chloe replied. “But you have to talk to our landlord, I think?”

  “It shouldn't be a problem, right?” Miranda said. “We have empty rooms.”

  “I wouldn't think so,” Chloe said, thumbing through her phone. “We can call—” Another knock interrupted her, the front door whipping open before she could even answer it. Wren stormed in, red-faced and windblown, tugging a rolling suitcase with one hand and balancing a cardboard box in the other.

  “Sorry to burst in like this,” she said, setting both on the bottom stair before bee lining for the coffee. “It's been a rough morning. Night. Whatever.”

  “What happened?” Beck asked, scooting over so she could sit next to him on the sofa. Chloe settled in on her other side and Maia dragged in a chair from the kitchen.

  They really needed more furniture.

  “My mother is what happened,” Wren said, shoving her blonde hair back. “And I tell you what, I've gone along with it in the past. But this time, she's on her own. This time—”

  “Wren, what's going on?” Chloe prodded.

  “She left!” Wren said, throwing up a hand and letting it flop onto her lap. She took a sip of coffee, hissing when she burned her tongue. “She went back to San Diego! Her old boyfriend called, begging and groveling and she left. Went back to start up some business with him selling ponchos. She wanted me to go with her, but I just can't anymore. I'm tired. I want to—” Her eyes filled with tears and Beck tugged her to his side. She shook her head and wiped her eyes.

  “I have a life here now,” she said. “I want to finish school. I'm tired of following her around all over the place.”

  “I don't blame you,” Maia said. “You deserve to do what you want to do.”

  “I do, right?” Wren replied, the tears starting up again. “I just didn't think it would be so . . .” She choked on a sob. “I’ll miss her though, you know? I’m so mad at her, but I’ll miss her. It's been the two of us for so long and now, she's gone.”

  Beck kissed the top of her head as she clung to him and Chloe patted her thigh.

  “It'll be okay,” she said.

  “Will it?” Wren asked, sniffling. “I don't even have a place to live. I can't afford the rent where we were by myself.” She side-eyed Chloe hopefully.

  Chloe glanced at Miranda and Maia before saying, “You can stay here. We have the room, and I'm sure Gavin won't mind a couple more renters.”

  “How could he?” Miranda asked. “Money talks, right?”

  “Wait, a couple more renters? Who else—” Wren scanned the room, her gaze finally landing on Beck.

  He grinned. “Hiya, roomie!”

  She snorted in response. “Well, this is a coincidence,” Wren said.

  “I sincerely doubt that,” Maia said. “Looks to me like someone or something wants us all under one roof.”

  “Right,” Chloe said. “Well, we don't have time to worry about who or what that might be right now.” She got up and walked over to the stairs, grabbing Wren's suitcase. “Let's get you moved in, then we'll call Gavin.”

  “Are you sure?” Wren asked. “I don't want to intrude.”

  Miranda rolled her eyes. “Don't be stupid,” she said, hefting Wren's box with a groan. “What do you have in here? Rocks?”

  “Books,” Wren replied, wiping her nose as she got to her feet. “I have more boxes in the car.”

  “So do I,” Beck said, shouldering his duffle.

  “Well, then, let's get you moved in,” Maia said. “Then we can tackle the challenge of the day.”

  “Challenge?” Beck repeated.

  “Didn't you guys get my messages?” Maia asked. When they both looked at her blankly, she sighed. “Why do I even bother?”

  The doorbell rang and Chloe left the suitcase to answer it, unsurprised to find both Dylan and his father standing on the front porch.

  “What's all this about Ethan?” Dylan asked as he walked in, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the hook.

  “At least someone listens to their voicemails,” Maia muttered with a pointed look toward Beck and Wren.

  Beck's brow furrowed. “Ethan? What are you talking about?”

  Miranda set Wren's box back down on the floor and blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Moving in will have to wait,” she said. “We need to talk.”

  “So . . .” Dylan stood in a corner of the living room, eyeing each person in turn where they sat in a loose circle. “You're saying Ethan's actually alive.”

  It wasn't a question, but Chloe answered anyway. “Yes.”

  “But we don't know how . . . or where he is.”

  “Nope.” Chloe let out a long breath. “All I know is it's somewhere dark. But that could be metaphorical for all I know.” She shrugged, shaking her head in frustration. “All I know is he is alive. I know it.”

  Dylan was quiet for a moment. “And we're going to rescue him.”

  “Yep.” Chloe pressed her lips together, nodding slowly.

  “And how exactly are we going to do that?” Dylan asked.

  “Well, that's the question o
f the hour,” Miranda replied.

  Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “Right,” he said. He crossed the room and sat on the floor at Miranda's feet. “So, where do we start?”

  “I have a few ideas.” Miranda leaned out of the armchair to retrieve her laptop. She opened it and clicked a few keys. “I made a list.”

  “Of course you did,” Maia said wryly.

  Miranda stuck out her tongue. “It seems to me like a three-pronged approach would be the most effective,” she said. “Maia, Professor Kennedy, and I should focus on research. Comb through the journal—again—and compile any information we can find about the Prison and the Vessel where Chaos is contained. Maybe we missed something.”

  “That makes sense,” Professor Kennedy replied. “I have access to some other sources as well that might help.”

  Maia nodded. “And I can put out some feelers on my message boards and such.”

  “Okay, so what about the rest of us?” Beck asked, his arm loose over Wren's shoulders where they sat on the couch.

  “You guys need to return to the scene of the crime,” Miranda replied. “Go back out to the clearing and see if you can find anything.”

  The idea of going out to the clearing again filled Chloe with dread, but she fought it down and nodded. “Maybe I can prompt another vision there.”

  “That's the third prong,” Miranda said. “You need to see more.”

  Chloe huffed. “Well, that's easier said than done.”

  “I know you've tried before, but your gift is stronger now,” the professor said. “And there are ways to help focus. Meditation. Visualization. That kind of thing.”

  Chloe knew he was right. So much of this rested on her shoulders. Sure, they could research and ask questions, but Chloe's visions would have to guide them. They were their best hope.