“Uh, nothing, really.”
“You know how this goes, Blake. The mystery agency learns how to duplicate its accidental science experiment and then creates a bunch of super-powered beings with perfect, fully charged powers that we’ll have to stop. This is like Ultron, but different. I’m not going to willingly help them create Armageddon.”
“Armageddon? Shit, Quinn, would you stop being so dramatic for a second? Let me get this straight, your plan is that you’re going to sit back and hope they can’t create more of us?”
“Yeah, that’s right, and you shouldn’t be helping them. There’s something else going on, something they aren’t telling us.”
“But I’m finally in with Mother Superior. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until she, uh, talks more with me.”
Quinn shook his head. “You mean when she starts barking orders about who you need to deal with? Have you even thought about that? When they talk about ‘the enemy,’ you better figure out who that really is and whether you’re ready to do something on their behalf…something that doesn’t sound anything like gently arresting people.”
Blake sighed.
“When we were at the warehouse, Victor used the phrase, ‘exact swift justice.’ What does that even mean? Is that code for killing people?”
“I…I’m not really sure.”
Quinn sat forward again. “Yes, you are, Blake! Would you be willing to kill someone for The Order?”
Blake hesitated. “If they were bad enough and that was the only way…then, probably.”
Quinn’s eyes widened in surprise at Blake’s answer. “You would be willing to kill someone, Blake?” he asked, again, astonished at his friend’s ideas of what a superhero should be.
“Yes, if their death saved more lives.”
“What if you disagree with The Order?”
“Dammit, Quinn, I don’t have all the answers,” Blake yelled, scowling at him.
Quinn shushed him. “My dads are downstairs and I don’t need the house blown up by accident.”
“I can control it now, thanks,” Blake sneered.
“It’s like I don’t know you anymore. This thing…this power…has changed you.”
“Like it hasn’t changed you at all?” Blake spat back, folding his arms across his chest.
“Blake, I’ve always wanted to be like Superman or Batman. I want to help and save people. What you’re signing up for is like the complete opposite of that and it’s got me super worried.”
“Worried about what?”
“That one day I’m going to have to stop you from doing something…evil.”
“Fuck you,” Blake snarled. “I’m not the fucking super villain in this story.”
Exasperated, Quinn slapped the sides of his face with his hand. “But you will become the villain if you keep doing what these people want.”
Blake rolled his eyes. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting, and The Order is no different than any other intelligence agency with a bunch of specially trained operatives around the world? That’s all this is. You’re making them out to be this maniacal Doctor Evil type of organization fixated on global domination or something.”
“Blake, listen to yourself!” Quinn said, exasperated, feeling heat coming from his best friend.
“Why do you have to be so stubborn? I am listening to myself!” Blake exclaimed in a hushed yell. He stood, jabbing his thumb at his chest. “For the first time ever, I’m listening to myself and thinking about what it is I want to do. I’m so tired of being told what’s wrong with me or what I’m doing wrong. So, fuck you, Quinn, and good luck when the feds catch up with you. Just leave me out of it.”
Blake stormed out of Quinn’s bedroom, made his way downstairs, and slammed the front door shut behind him.
Quinn sat back and stared at the open doorway. Holy crap, what just happened? Did we just…have a friend breakup or something?
“Everything all right?” Daddio called up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Uh, yeah, his, uh…his dad’s been a real asshole this week. He’s mad at everyone, even me.”
“He’ll come around,” Daddio said. “Best friends always do.”
I hope you’re right.
“I think I’m gonna go for a run, Daddio” Quinn said, changing into his track pants and short-sleeved track jacket.
“Now? It’s eight o’clock.”
“Yeah, I know. I need to burn that fight off.”
“Okay, take your phone with you and be careful out, it’s dark.”
❖
Blake
Who the hell does he think he is to judge me?
He pedaled hard, nearly snapping the pedals off his bicycle as his anger over Quinn’s stubborn refusal to accept his choice churned in his mind. He could feel heat radiating from his body, but he didn’t care as long as his bike didn’t melt. Since he wasn’t ready to go home, he headed up South Street toward Prescott Park, keenly aware of Quinn’s lingering presence behind him. At the moment, Quinn was running after him. Blake decided not to make it easy for his friend to apologize and he wasn’t in the mood to continue arguing; he did that enough at home.
My mind is made up, he’s either with me or against me.
Steering his bike into the south corner of the park from Marcy Street, he made his way across the grass and through the flower gardens to the path at the water’s edge. Somewhere on the other side of the park a man and woman were fighting and cussing one another out. The cool, still air carried their voices over the sound of the river and the machinery at the naval shipyard.
Seriously? Again? How do I always find these losers?
Blake loudly cleared his throat to announce his presence in the darkened park, but it didn’t seem to stop the couple from fighting. He jumped off his bike and walked it to a bench near one of the wooden piers. Whatever that couple was fighting over, she was letting him have it, oblivious to anyone around them.
In the small parking area on the other side of the park, near the Memorial Bridge, Blake watched a police cruiser drive in and flash its spotlight around. The police didn’t see anyone except Blake walking his bicycle, so they made their way out of the parking area. He selected a bench and leaned his bike against it, not bothering to lock it up since no one was around except for the fighting couple. Blake guessed they were inside the walled flower garden.
Then, he closed his eyes and turned invisible, leaving himself alone with his thoughts, refusing to care if anyone saw him disappear. Opening his eyes, he made his way to the usual pier where he and Quinn often loitered. The angry couple kept at it behind him, providing distracted amusement from his otherwise perturbed state. What the hell am I going to do now? Do I stay in school? Do I work with Victor? Do I lose my best friend over this?
Several minutes later, they concluded their argument and the night air became still. Several minutes after that, Quinn ran up to Blake’s bike and stopped, bending over to grab his knees as he briefly caught his breath and looked around. Blake watched his eyes track around the park until they focused on the pier. Then, Quinn walked toward Blake.
“I can’t see you, but I can sense where you are. It’s different from when we were sneaking around the woods at Rangeley.”
Blake shimmered into view.
“You gotta admit, that’s pretty cool,” Quinn said.
Blake feigned a smile and nodded.
“I don't suppose there's any way I can get you to change your mind?” Quinn asked.
“You mean not go to Rangeley, not work with Victor, and not become who I want to be?”
Quinn sighed and nodded.
“No, Quinn, you cannot.”
“At least, promise me that if things get sketchy, you'll get out. If you think they're going to hurt you, get out and come find me.”
“Yup.”
They stared at each other for a moment in silence until Quinn spoke softly. “Okay. Well, I guess I'll see you at school, then.”<
br />
“Bye.”
Quinn shook his head and started running down the pier. Then, he turned around and ran back, tears running down his cheeks. His voice was shaken and filled with emotion. “You're my best friend, Blake; we’ve never had a fight like this before. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t agree with you when it comes to Victor.”
Blake tightened his jaw and looked down at the wooden deck boards under his feet. Then he raised his head and his left eyebrow to Quinn. “One day, you'll see how important this is to me.”
“I hope you're right,” Quinn said. He wiped his eyes and turned away, then ran into the night.
❖
Riding back into his neighborhood, Blake’s super vision caught sight of a bunch of black vehicles near Hislop Park. Curious, he steered his bicycle toward the silent commotion.
As he approached, he noted government license plates on each black vehicle. He saw a small group of men and women resembling agents from a movie scouring the park. They appeared to be looking for something, but Blake couldn't fathom what.
“Excuse me young man,” one of the agents called out, waving him over. Standing near him, Blake recognized the woman from the dugout assault he saved several nights ago.
Oh shit, will she recognize me?
He looked down and smiled when he realized he wore his maroon Clippers sweatshirt instead of the inconspicuous hoodie he had worn when he saved her.
Blake rode over to the man and braked to a stop, setting his feet on the ground.
“Thank you for stopping. I'm Agent Callahan with the Department of Homeland Security. Would you answer a couple of questions for me?”
“Sure,” Blake answered. The woman, the victim from the other night, did not seem to pay attention to him.
“Do you live around here?” The agent asked.
“Yes, over on Raleigh Way.”
“Do you often ride your bike at night?”
“Yeah, it's my only way to get around. If I'm coming home from work or my friend’s house, I have to ride my bike home.”
“Great, thank you. What I’m curious to know is if you've seen anything unusual here over the past week?”
“No,” Blake answered, trying to sound like a normal, disinterested teenager. “Can you give me an example?”
“Two men, one taller than the other, who do not live here but might have been hanging around over the past week.”
“I don't know all the people who live in this neighborhood, sorry. If I saw them I wouldn't necessarily think they did not belong here.”
“Okay, thanks. Well, if you notice anything unusual, please call the police immediately.”
“Sure…um…out of curiosity, when you say unusual, are you talking, like, Blue Spekter unusual?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Okay, well, I haven’t, but if I do, I will definitely call the police.”
“Thanks, have a great night!”
Blake turned and headed away from the scene. Now I know they’re looking for me, too.
2-13 | Practice Makes Perfect
Quinn
QUINN FINISHED WASHING HIS HANDS and dried them on a towel. At last, the busy morning and early afternoon shift at Breaking New Grounds had ended and Quinn said goodbye to his coworkers, glad to be finished working for the day. His next event was much more exciting. He pulled his sweatshirt on and strapped on his bike helmet, then left the building through the employee exit. He looked up the street toward Kaffee Vonsolln, but he knew Blake wasn’t there. He sighed and walked to the bike stand in Market Square. Once he unlocked his bike, he jumped on it and pedaled away.
Fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the empty field behind Sagamore Hill to meet with Mr. St. Germain. The field was completely surrounded by trees with no line-of-sight to any house or building. Quinn would only have to keep his ears peeled for the sound of footsteps approaching from the woods or the private drive nearby.
His mentor was already waiting for him in the field and when they shook hands, Mr. St. Germain wrinkled his nose. “Wow, you smell like wicked strong dark roast coffee, only its slightly burnt and sweaty.”
Quinn laughed. “Well, I’ve been brewing in it all day and I’m living up to my teenage stereotype by being sweaty and gross, especially after work.”
“Good thing we’re outside, then” Mr. St. Germain commented, chuckling. “Okay, first things first. Any new powers?”
“No, that’s been kind of quiet. I think the existing powers are getting stronger, though. I can fly much faster now. I also seem to recover from working out or any strenuous activity really quick.”
“Okay.”
“The thing that’s annoying me is the glowing part. Like, I can use the water powers in the shower or turn invisible without glowing—eyes or body—but when I do other things, my eyes glow. When I fly, my entire body glows. I want to be able to turn that on and off. Sometimes I think it’s about the amount of power I’m using.”
“Show me the invisibility again?” Mr. St. Germain asked, grinning. “I only saw it at night in the baseball field.”
Quinn smiled and disappeared.
“That is so damn cool!”
Quinn reappeared, and Mr. St. Germain clapped his hands. “Okay, so no glowing eyes with invisibility, which intuitively makes sense…but I’m not ready to assume your powers have a mind of their own. You said something about the amount of power…do certain things take more out of you?”
“Well, flying is really the only one, I think…like if I want to go faster.”
“So, the more power you use, the brighter you glow?”
“Exactly.”
“Can you feel or sense any of the glowing?”
“Yup. I can make my eyes glow; I can feel it somewhere behind my eyes.” Quinn turned on his eyes and they glowed blue.
Mr. St. Germain shook his head and smiled. “I will never get tired of seeing that. Do Blake’s eyes glow?”
“Yes, but they glow orange.”
“Right, okay, I remember now. Turn your eyes off?”
Quinn relaxed and made his eyes stop glowing.
“What did you just do?”
“Um, I just turned them off?”
Mr. St. Germain shifted his stance, tapping his mind and heart as he spoke. “What I meant was, what do you think about or feel?”
“I guess I just calmed myself.”
His mentor nodded sagely. “I bet you were pretty excited when you flew up to save the falling man and when you grabbed the bomber from downtown?”
Quinn nodded.
“What did you do with the guy’s bomb, anyway?”
“When I flew out over the ocean, I ripped it off the guy and threw it as far out as I could. It ended up exploding in midair miles away.”
Mr. St. Germain nodded and walked around in a circle. Quinn absentmindedly watched the hay compress under his footsteps.
“So, um, if you get excited you start to glow…does it happen with any kind of excitement?”
“No, it seems to be connected to my brain knowing I’m about to go super.”
“Do you have an example of non-super excitement?”
Quinn blushed. “Well, I got pretty excited when Keegan asked me to the Homecoming Dance.”
Mr. St. Germain beamed with pride. “Congrats, that’s a big step for you.”
“Thanks,” Quinn answered, embarrassed. “The only thing that happens when I’m excited to be around him is flickering light bulbs around me. I can’t help it, but uh, I seem to get a little more explosive when I think about him, uh, romantically.”
“But no glowing?”
“Nope.”
“So, just brainstorming out loud here, but it seems knowing plus excitement equals glowing. How did you turn your eyes on?”
Quinn shrugged. “Well, I learned how to turn those on and off at will, but they still come on when my body glows. Honestly, I just think about turning them on. My eyes are kinda like a light switch, I guess.”
“Okay, where I’m going with this is, if you try to stay calm, you might be able to keep the glowing down to a minimum or not at all. That could come in really handy if you’re in public and don’t want to call attention to yourself. Not glowing would be extremely useful to Blake when he wants to use his telekinesis.”
“Yeah,” Quinn answered softly, looking down and away.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, well, Blake and I had a big fight last night…” Quinn shared everything he knew about Blake’s choice to work with Victor Kraze and The Order. “And all of that,” Quinn said, wrapping up his explanation, “is why he wasn’t in school. I think he will start missing more school in the future. He’d rather be up there with his new friends than down here with us.” With me…
“I see,” Mr. St. Germain responded, sighing. “I’m sorry he’s chosen that path for now. The school won’t be very forgiving with too many absences. I hope this doesn’t bite him in the ass.”
“Me too.”
“Okay, so try something. I think if you try to stay mentally calm, you can keep your eyes and body from glowing. It will take practice, I'm sure, but eventually you should be able to tap into the moment and discover a way to control the glow. At least, this is how it seems your powers work.”
“Okay,” Quinn answered.
“So, I want you to levitate only a few inches off the ground. Keep your mind calm and focused.”
Quinn nodded and took a deep breath, focusing his mind. As he thought about lifting off the ground, he felt power surge through his body and told his mentor about it.
“Great, so try to let the power be its own thing and not a burst of adrenaline.”
“Okay.” He focused again and lifted off the ground, trying to do what his mentor suggested.
“You're glowing, but not super bright like the YouTube videos of Blue Spekter in action.” Mr. St. Germain said.
Dammit.
“Stay in the air and focus. Meditate or think about ocean waves or a basket of puppies.”
Quinn giggled and then stilled his mind, allowing it to be lulled by the imaginary ocean waves he envisioned. At the moment, his eyes weren't the problem; he could tell those were not glowing, but he hadn't figured out how to sense whether his body was glowing or not.
The Guardians Omnibus Page 29
