The Supernormal Legacy_Book 1_Dormant

by LeeAnn McLennan

  The wood was about as long as Emma’s arm and as thick as a broom handle. She looked like she was holding a baton. In the dim light, I had to squint to see the imprint on the handle. My throat tightened at the sight of the stylized M made to look like a couple of mountain peaks.

  It was the same as the other sticks of wood Aunt Kate had found at the bomb sites. It was just like the example Kevin had shown me on the Internet. Was that only just a few hours ago? That stupid stick – one more sign of my cousin’s betrayal.

  I met Emma’s eyes, noting the crazed, lost look in them. I cast around for the right words to stop her. But nothing came to mind. I shared a frantic look with Ben while the rest of my cousins fanned out around us.

  I heard shouting from behind us. Zoe had returned with Aunt Kate and Uncle Dan.

  Aunt Kate ran over to Uncle Alex, crouching down beside him. Uncle Dan ran past me to stand in front of Emma. “Emma, what are you doing? Put that down immediately.” His voice, usually so authoritative, shook. I saw his shoulders lift and lower as he took a steadying breath. “You’re better than this.”

  Emma glared at her father. She spoke through gritted teeth. “Maybe I’m not, Dad.” She brandished the stick at him like a sword. “Maybe this is who I’m meant to be. Maybe they’re right.”

  Emma stepped closer to the pile of explosives and I heard a collective intake of breath as she lifted the lighter closer to the wood. I started to speak, hoping to distract her, but Hugh spoke first. “Maybe who is right about what?’

  Emma gave him a small frown. “Mountain of Ash, of course. Where have you been for the last few minutes? Keep up.”

  Hugh ignored her jibe. “Right about what?”

  “All of this” – Emma waved the stick around in a circle – “must go. The world needs a do-over, a fresh start with the correct mix of normals and supernormals.”

  “And they’re starting by blowing up landmarks in Portland?” I asked, with what was probably an ill-advised sneer, but I couldn’t help it. “Seems a little small-scale for world destruction.”

  “No!” Emma glared at me coldly, her chin held high. She said proudly, “All of this, this chaos and confusion, is how I have proved my worthiness.” She smiled. My stomach clenched at how cold and arrogant the expression was on her pretty face. “They’re impressed by my skill. They have a use for me and my abilities.” She looked at her father with an indecipherable expression. “I’ve been promised a position high in their ranks. And when this world burns, I’ll be among the privileged who build a new one.” Her lip curled with disdain. “And, you, all of you will burn with the rest.”

  I gaped at her, my hands twitching with the need to do something to stop her. But fire wasn’t the answer, not while she was holding the stick. And I didn’t know how, or even if, I could trigger my supposed ice-making abilities. I couldn’t focus, not with Emma waving the bomb stick around.

  Uncle Dan stepped closer, his hands held up in front of him in a conciliatory gesture. “Emma, you must stop this.”

  “Shut up!” Emma yelled. “Stop trying to distract me.” She held up the lighter, her thumb on the trigger.

  “Hey, if you light that, you’ll take yourself out just like us,” I yelled, inspired. “What’ll that do to your big plans?”

  She gave me a pitying look. “Oh, Olivia, you idiot. All I have to do is light this” – she held the stick higher – “throw it at the explosives, and then freeze time long enough to get away. Stupid people, thinking only being able to freeze time for thirty seconds is a weak manifestation of my ability. A person can do a lot in thirty seconds.” She laughed. “In fact, I don’t even have to throw the stick at the explosives. It’ll do a decent amount of damage on its own.” She gave the bridge above us a wistful look. “It’s just that I really, really want to blow up a bridge.”

  Crap. That must be how she had blown up Vera and the rest of the landmarks. Lighting the explosive stick and then freezing time long enough to get away. Did she stay and watch the resulting carnage from a safe distance? Looking at her now, I knew she had, every single time.

  Emma was still looking up at the bridge when Kevin appeared in front of her. Before anyone could react, Kevin kicked Emma in the leg, knocking her over. He grabbed the stick and bounced away, reappearing beside Hugh.

  Emma yelled. “No!” She pulled a knife from the sheath strapped to her leg and threw it at Kevin. I expected him to bounce out of the way, but before anyone else could react Hugh leapt in front of his brother. The knife buried itself in the side of Hugh’s throat and he fell to ground with a thud. Blood gushed from the wound.

  I screamed as Kevin cried out, “Hugh! No!” and then “Dad!” as he looked around frantically for Uncle Alex and his healing ability.

  Emma ran forward, kicked Kevin, and yanked the stick from his unresisting hands.

  I darted over and crouched at Hugh’s side, wrapping my hands around the shaft of the knife. I desperately wanted to pull out the knife, but I knew I couldn’t because Hugh might bleed out more quickly. I trembled while Hugh gasped for air. Blood burbled out of his mouth and nose. He stared at me with wide, frightened eyes.

  Knowing it wasn’t helping to hold on to the knife, I let go and grabbed Hugh’s hand, smearing blood all over him. “Hugh, hold on, your dad is coming.” I could barely force the words out through the tears tightening my throat. Hugh’s eyes closed, and I cried out, “No, no!”

  Uncle Alex staggered over, obviously not yet recovered from his torture at the hands of Emma. He fell into a kneeling position across from me on the other side of his son. Careful not to move Hugh too much, Uncle Alex took Hugh’s other hand in his. I sat back on my heels, holding my breath, watching for Hugh’s eyes to flutter open, and waiting for Hugh to stop making horrible gurgling noises.

  After a moment, the awful sounds coming from Hugh’s throat stopped, and I leaned forward hopefully. But Hugh’s face was slack, and his eyes remained closed. Uncle Alex shook his head, tears running down his face. He pulled the knife from Hugh’s throat and gently laid his son’s head in his lap. The blood running from the wound in his throat mocked us with its semblance of vitality.

  “No!” Kevin cried out and dropped to his father’s side. “Dad, you have to be able to save him.”

  Uncle Alex wrapped his arms around his younger son. “Kevin, even my abilities can’t bring someone back from the dead.” He drew a shuddering breath. Tears glistened on his checks. He started to say more, but instead simply held a sobbing Kevin to him tightly.

  Zoe crouched near Hugh’s head, her whip held limply in her right hand. Lange paced between the sad scene and the explosives at the base of the bridge. Ben stood at Hugh’s feet, gripping his sword tightly.

  Emma stood as if rooted to the ground. “He’s lucky.” Her voice shook and she sounded uncertain for the first time. I turned on my heels to stare at her, too horrified to hate her. Yet. “He won’t have to experience the scorching of the world like the rest of you will.”

  Aunt Kate said, her voice trembling, “Emma, please.” She held her tablet in one limp hand, obviously at a loss for a way to use technology to stop her crazy niece.

  “Emma, I don’t understand why you’re doing this, but it has to stop.” Uncle Dan walked towards his daughter with his hand held out. “Give me the stick. Now.” His voice was stern and commanding.

  I felt a spurt of fury at Uncle Dan, at Emma. Uncle Dan was acting like Emma had just performed some infraction in the workout room, not like she’d just killed one cousin while intending to hurt another. And how could he act like he’s forgotten she had aligned herself with the people who killed my mother, his sister?

  Uncle Dan’s behavior seemed to simultaneously calm and anger Emma. She curled her lip at him while she held the stick and the lighter close to each other. The curl of her lip turned into a full-on sneer as she flicked the starter to the lighter. The flame appeared brighter than any other lighter ever had in the history of the world.

  I
started to yell for everyone to run, but Ben ran forward and grabbed her arm. What good was it to prevent her from freezing time? Did he really think she wasn’t crazy enough to blow herself up along with us?

  Emma managed to jerk her arm from his grasp. She stumbled a few steps away and reignited the lighter. Ben lunged after her and knocked her down, sending the lighter skidding across the dirt. Emma clung to the stick even as Ben wrapped his arms around her. He cradled her close as if he was about kiss her, her body almost hidden by his.

  Uncle Alex yelled, “Ben, no don’t!”

  I looked at Uncle Alex, who had released Kevin and was struggling to his feet, still weak from trying to heal himself. His face was smeared with blood from both his and Hugh’s wounds. His expression was panicked; he staggered a few steps before falling to his knees. Aunt Kate flung her tablet to the ground, heedless of the crack when the screen broke, and ran to her brother’s side.

  I didn’t understand why Uncle Alex was protesting Ben’s attempt to save us. Wasn’t Ben doing a good thing?

  Uncle Dan yelled, “Ben, stop it, not that way. You’re violating her mind.” He ran up to Ben and Emma, holding out his hand, his fingers inches away from grabbing Ben. He hesitated, giving Ben time to shift Emma away, using his body to block access to hers.

  Oh. Now I got it. Ben wasn’t trying to prevent Emma from using her ability; he was using his mind control ability on her. And Uncle Dan was afraid to touch Ben, afraid of getting pulled into whatever Ben was doing.

  I crept forward, unsure if I was planning to stop him or hold off the rest so he could finish. Ben flung his head up to look at me, and I stepped back, hands up and shocked. I gave an involuntary shiver at the sight of his eyes – all of the green was gone, covered by a weird gold shimmer. I wasn’t even sure he could see me. His mouth was moving, but I couldn’t make out the words.

  Emma screamed, managing to stretch one hand out from under Ben’s arm. Uncle Dan made a grab for it, but his hand barely touched hers before Ben shifted again, pulling her hand out of reach. Both Uncle Dan and Emma cried out, him in frustration and her with what sounded like pain.

  Lange yelled, “Ben, you’ve got to stop! You’re hurting her.”

  He lunged forward, but Kevin blocked him. “No.” Kevin gritted his teeth. “She killed Hugh.”

  Lange gaped at him. “Kevin, I’m as sorry as you are about Hugh, but that’s not how it works. We don’t administer punishment. We catch the bad guys. The Council decides how to punish them.”

  “Guys,” Zoe said. “I don’t think it matters anymore.”

  We all looked at Ben and Emma, still embracing in a parody of affection.

  Ben’s head was bent near Emma’s ear. Now I could hear the words he was chanting. “Emma, you will surrender peacefully.” He repeated the words almost without stopping to breathe. Now I looked past his strange eyes to see that his expression was intense, focused. I doubted he was aware we were clustered around them, conflicted about how and whether to stop him.

  All of a sudden, Ben roared, “Emma, surrender!” startling me so much that I stumbled back. I wasn’t the only one; Zoe and Lange tumbled to the ground next me.

  With a gasp, Emma’s hand opened and released the stick. She passed out. Ben let her slide out of his grasp to lie in a heap on the ground. He reached for the stick and just held it up in the air for someone to take, his hand shaking. Uncle Dan stepped forward and yanked it out of Ben’s hand.

  Obviously exhausted, Ben slumped to the ground. He braced his hands in the dirt and tried to stand but couldn’t seem to find the strength. He sat instead and rubbed his sweat-covered face, smearing dirt all over it. His eyes were back to their standard green. He managed to gasp out, “It won’t last. I don’t have enough practice at making it last. Someone should restrain her or something.”

  Aunt Kate gave Ben an indecipherable look before telling Lange and Zoe to tie Emma up and hang on to her. While they did so, she pulled out her phone and walked to find a spot where there was reception.

  Kevin walked over to sit next to his father, who was still huddled in the dirt. He reached for Uncle Alex’s hand, gripping it tightly while they both stared at Hugh’s bloodied body.

  I ran to Ben and put my arms around him. He pushed me away weakly. “Don’t touch me. I’m wide open. I can read everything around me.”

  “Then you can already read me, and it doesn’t matter if I touch you.” I pulled him into a hug and he collapsed against me.

  We huddled together gaping at the destruction around us until Aunt Kate returned. She knelt beside Uncle Alex, putting an arm around his shoulders and murmuring to him. Whatever she said had her brother standing up, pulling Kevin to his feet along with Aunt Kate. They stood around Hugh’s body as supernormals began arriving, one by one, either through teleportation or other methods.

  Emma was handcuffed and taken away. As she walked by me, I tried to think of something to say to express my outrage at what she’d done to my family but all I could do was watch.

  Ben made a soft sound of protest and I saw Hugh’s lifeless body being lifted onto a stretcher. Uncle Alex and Kevin followed as they took my cousin’s body away.

  Aunt Kate came to sit beside me and Ben. I looked at her and all I could think to say was, “What happens now?”

  She said, “Now, we deal with what comes next.”

  Chapter 36

  Buried deep in the mountains was the most secure prison normals have never heard of, the Ley Holding Facility. The prison was home to many super villains. It was still hard for me to believe that Emma was incarcerated in this grim place for the rest of her life or until the council was satisfied she had been rehabilitated. The entire building was made of a top-secret alloy to dampen the abilities inherent to all supernormals, good and bad. The cells had extra shielding, and many of the inmates were further restrained depending on whatever ability made them dangerous. The warden was a man with the ability to freeze animate objects for a short period. He was as solid as his prison – a large, stocky man with thick features. His face was lined with the strain of managing a prison where it wasn’t enough just to lock up an inmate in a cell. He had to handle each case and the necessary security based on the supernormal’s unique abilities.

  Entering the prison was creepy for everyone because even free supernormals felt the effects of the dampening field. On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, I walked through the gates and felt a ripple go through me. I staggered for a few steps before I found my footing. I shook my head, feeling dizzy without the powers I had grown accustomed to in the past two months. I glanced around, grimacing at the sight of all the guards.

  I was alone among my cousins in wanting to visit Emma. Zoe could barely speak Emma’s name, choosing to spend most of her time in intense training. Kevin looked like he was about to cry most of the time. Lange mostly avoided us, and when he was around, he didn’t speak at all.. Aunt Kate spent her days trying to analyze how Emma had disguised her beliefs so thoroughly from her family. Uncle Alex took on the role of trying to cheer us up, though his eyes were often red-rimmed, either from lack of sleep or from excess of tears. He must be wondering how Emma had kept her feelings from him. Uncle Dan had gone into seclusion.

  Me? I had too many questions that only Emma could answer.

  The guards escorted me to the meeting room where they seated me in front of a cage attached to a tunnel that appeared to lead back to the cells. I sat down, rubbing my palms on my pants and looking around uneasily. There weren’t many other people waiting. I guessed super villains didn’t get many visitors. The only two people in room were a tiny, wrinkled old woman wearing a heavy black dress and a man I guessed was her son sitting next to her. He was about forty and looked as tired as I felt. They were sitting at a table. As I watched, the guard led a man out of the cell area. He was wearing a jumpsuit in prison orange, and his hands were cuffed together and chained to the belt around his waist. Around his neck was the ability-dampening collar all prisoners wo
re. I guess the warden didn’t completely trust the field surrounding the prison. Considering some of the people incarcerated here, I agreed with him. From the crazy guy who almost blew up a Brony convention because they didn’t believe he could grow his own horsetail, to the man who could use microwaves to fry part of a person’s brain to make them more open to suggestions, to Black Gaea, the woman who destroyed crops in the Midwest a few years ago by feeding off of chlorophyll; these were all supernormals best locked up.

  I heard the old woman say, “Thomas, how are you, my dear?” The rest of their conversation was lost in murmurs.

  Thomas must be only a minor villain, not a super villain, since he was allowed to meet visitors in an open setting.

  I still couldn’t decide. Was Emma a super villain or just a supernormal gone rogue? Was there a difference? Were there super villain families? I supposed there must be.

  At the creak of a door opening, I turned back to the cage, my heart pounding so hard I was sure the beating was visible through my shirt. I rubbed my hand on my neck, still not used to the feeling of air against my exposed skin. It had only been a few weeks since I had gotten my hair chopped off.

  The guard led Emma in. Her hands were encased in thick gloves and chained to a belt around her waist. She looked small and vulnerable in her bright yellow prison jumpsuit – yellow for murderer. The collar around her neck seemed to engulf her shoulders.

  She’d lost weight since I saw her last, and her hair had grown from its short pixie cut to a shaggy, jaw-length bob. The ends were still dyed black, but I was surprised to see the roots were blond. Since I’d cut my hair after the battle under the Hawthorne Bridge, my hair was now shorter than hers.

  Emma frowned when she saw who was here to visit her. She twisted around to the guard and said, “I have nothing to say to her. Take me back.”

  The guard just shook his head and, gently but firmly, led Emma to the chair and guided her into it. She sat down with a grudging expression, and he locked Emma’s handcuffs into the chair inside the cage. We sat facing each other alone for the first time since she’d killed Hugh.