Powerless: In a world of superpowers, what happens when you have none?

by Niall McCreanor

  She could vaguely recognize the sound of Philip’s voice in the background, happily talking, but her mind was miles away. She was picturing her little girl or boy in her arms, sitting against the stomach that it now lay inside. She imagined pushing him or her down this road; chasing behind them as they learnt to walk; watching them carefully as her two children played together in the playground. In a matter of minutes she had visualized the first decade of her unborn child’s life. She thought about the friends they would make, the games they would play; the attitude they would have. Would it be a sunny happy child? A melancholy child, always fretting?

  “So I sold the house and we’re moving to Hawaii…” Philip looked across at Josephine, knowing exactly what she was thinking about and enjoying teasing her anyway.

  “Hang on, what?!” she exclaimed, suddenly pulled out of her thoughts.

  “You’re miles away again. What is it this time? Dreaming of the unnatural musical ability he is bound to have?” he winked at her and briefly placed his hand on her leg, squeezing.

  “Ha-ha, I’m sorry Philip. It’s just… all the possibilities!” the twinkle in her eye that had appeared on that day all those months ago when she first told Philip that she was pregnant had only become brighter and stronger. She was a wonderful mother to Tom and he couldn’t wait to see her with both children in her arms.

  Pulling onto the highway they went to collect Tom from the childminder’s. As they drove along the short stretch of road there was a large lorry carrying bulk metal in front of them.

  Being a cautious man, he kept his distance as they drove. Looking ahead, Philip saw a small removal van, the kind used to move apartment furniture, join the highway and merge alongside the lorry. Approaching their exit, the removal van veered suddenly and violently in front of the lorry, as if to avoid something on the road. The warm smile that hadn’t left Philip’s face since they’d seen the scan vanished, replaced by intense concentration.

  The van caused the lorry to jack-knife and it tipped onto its side. The horrendous noise of metal on metal and screeching tires was enough to send Josephine into a panicked hysteria, torn between clutching onto the door beside her and wrapping her arms around her unborn baby, but Philip was a meticulous man and had kept his distance. He had enough room to manoeuvre out of danger.

  Unfortunately, the driver behind Philip wasn’t as adept and careened into the back of his car, causing him to be thrust into the back of the lorry and allowing the bulk metal to rip apart the car and open it up like a cheap piece of tin. Philip had been knocked out.

  *

  Gradually starting to wake, feeling a combination of cold rain and warm blood cascading from his face, he found himself alone in the car. He could not see his beloved wife. He strained to get out of the car, eventually freeing himself from the seat and crawling out through the window. His hearing and vision had been impaired from the violent impact he’d taken to the head. All noise was inaudible, as if underwater, and his vision was blurred and fuzzy.

  Struggling to his feet, he limped heavily on a badly damaged leg that had been twisted in the wreckage. Trying to put the full weight of his body on his leg, it simply couldn’t take it and collapsed. Lying on the ground unable to move, shock was starting to set in. A horrible combination of burnt rubber, fuel and oil filled his nose. The scent acted like smelling salts and revived him. Feeling panicked he began to look for Josephine. Rolling onto his front he looked into the car, but she was not there. With quick stares his eyes darted all around, but he was unable to lay his eyes on her. The thought of his best friend and life partner alone, scared and quite possibly injured gripped onto his heart. And his child. His unborn child. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he frantically searched for them.

  A moment of clarity hit him and he bolted to his feet, ignoring the pain that seared through his body like a hot poker on cold flesh. Dashing towards the rear of the car, he rounded the trunk, not noticing a loose piece of metal. Treading on it, it offered him no grip to the ground. Once again he collapsed as the smooth wet metal slid from under foot.

  As he hit the ground, he could see round the side of the car to the passenger side. There she was, struggling to breathe, only managing to take short sharp breaths and struggling to cling onto consciousness. For a moment all he could do was stare at her, terrified of the reality of the situation. Labouring back to his feet, he went to tend to her. As he moved closer, the full extent of her injuries were hidden as she lay holding her open jacket across her chest.

  “Are you okay, Joey?”

  No words left her mouth and she simply pulled open her jacket. Philip’s eyes widened, rising his hand to his mouth at the horror of what he was presented with. Sticking through her blood soaked blouse was a large piece of jagged metal puncturing her chest.

  There was a large bend in the metal that Philip put straight with ease. Holding her gaze steady with his, he pulled the metal from her chest to free her from the wreckage. Josephine howled out in pain. Pulling the metal he could feel the jagged edges rubbing, tearing against his wife’s insides. The sound of Josephine shrieking and the feeling of his wife’s bones on the metal were unbearable to him. Instead he tried to focus on the task at hand, saving the life of his wife and child. Biting back tears he looked down at her chest. The jagged metal left an open wound, but her ability to heal was drained by the later stages of pregnancy. There would be no way back from this. But he couldn’t think of that. He couldn’t face it. Putting pressure on the laceration he tried to stem the bleeding, all the while knowing in his heart that there was little hope for his beloved. Philip looked into the eyes of his wife and did something he had never done in all the years they were together. He lied. She looked up at him and struggled to speak.

  Philip reassuringly spoke to her in hushed tones. “It’s ok, you are going to be fine, you need to save your strength.”

  Knowing she was hearing lies and choosing to ignore the comfort Philip was offering, she continued to struggle painfully for speech. Words she searched for would not come easily given the extent of her trauma; she kept trying and eventually forced out the words, “Save my baby.”

  Looking into the back seat of the car, Philip reached for his medical bag. Right there in the middle of all that devastation, disarray and through immeasurable heartache, he performed a procedure that had not been done for an age. Taking his scalpel, he cut into his wife. As he cut her open a combination of amniotic fluid and blood poured out. Reaching his hand into her open womb he removed their child. Quickly he pulled off his coat and wrapped it around the newborn child. Teary eyed, devastated and completely numb from shock, he placed the child in his dying wife’s arms. Through his pain he struggled to say, “Look Joey, it’s our little boy.”

  Unable to lift her arms to offer her son a cuddle, Josephine simply lay with her son propped up on her dying body, unable to move an inch. Looking at her son for the first time with fading eyes, she pushed out one more word.

  “Lee.”

  Breaking down, Philip kissed her softly on the lips. As a tear rolled down her cheek she gave one last breath and with that, she died on the side of the road amid all that chaos. Philip was left to deal with the devastation that followed this tragic event. Every morning he woke up to the heartache of knowing the loss of the one person who filled his heart; the only woman he truly loved, the person he expected to grow old with. And as much as he wanted to lie in bed all day, going through photo albums and thinking over moments long since passed with his beloved Joey, he was not able to wallow in this pain, having two young boys to raise and provide for.

  Over the coming years he did just that, moving past his own pain and focusing on the two people most important in the entire world to him. He was a caring father who taught his boys the importance of being good and just. At times he was a little hard and strict with his boys, but he always had their best interests at heart.

  *

  Tom returned from the car with the bag in hand. Seeing his father si
tting at the table appearing to be uncharacteristically emotional, he entered and took the knife from his hand. He sat in the chair beside him and began to chop. Philip stood up and went to the oven, lifting the wooden spoon once again and plunging it into the pot. After a couple of stirs he began to laugh.

  “What’s up?” Tom asked quizzically from the table.

  “I guess there’s a first for everything,” Philip proclaimed. The sauce is sticking!” Once again both men laughed.

  Tom gathered up all the onions and carrots and dropping them into the pot, told his father, “Don’t worry, you know Lee. He’ll never notice and if he does he won’t say anything.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The inevitable wailing of sirens he had expected hadn’t come and he was unsure if they would. Were he in Jimmy’s position he knew without doubt that he would have reported it. But he wasn’t Jimmy.

  Beginning to relax, Lee turned his eyes downward to the coffee cup clasped tightly in his hand. What remained of the heat that emanated out from the drink was fading fast, but this didn’t seem to bother him, as he slowly sipped on the now lukewarm cappuccino, enjoying the cool froth as he got closer to the bottom of the cup. He contemplated going to the counter to order another, but the option to just sit and reflect won out.

  Today was always bittersweet. Well, more bitter than sweet. Every year this day would roll by and he would face an internal rift that weighed heavily on him. Mostly he spent it thinking about his family and hiding the fact that it was meant to be a joyous occasion rather than a sombre one, but for him every year brought with it a small feeling of guilt, a feeling that if today was not his birthday his life might have been very different.

  Lee thought back on the life his parents had; it was a life that he could barely imagine, in comparison to his own. But no, it wasn’t so much the life that he envied, but the love they shared. Philip and Josephine had been high school sweethearts and had only known love for each other. Josephine was free-spirited with a kind heart and a soft soul that reflected in her outlook on life. She would often be seen tending her garden or painting outside, if the mood took her. She had no illusions of grandeur; she was humble, loving and lived for her family. Philip, in contrast, had quite a regimental upbringing. His father had been a soldier in the war whose special skill was covert sabotage missions, often finding himself behind enemy lines for most of the duration of the war. These skills he imparted onto his son, taking him hunting high in the woods for days at a time, teaching him how to remain concealed amongst the natural environment and how to conceal his scent using the wind and read the land around him.

  Lee spent his younger years listening to his father talk about his grandfather, a man Lee never met but one who would shape his life through the teachings he bestowed upon Philip. Lee listened to his father with a respect that shone through his eyes.

  “When I wasn’t out hunting with your granddad, I was learning mechanical skills in the old shed behind the main house. Now it’s a broken down old building, but then it was magnificent. Everything was shiny and all his tools were kept in such order that he could always lay his hand on the tool he was looking for. We spent summer after summer mostly by taking apart pre-war vehicles and restoring them to their former glory.” He paused as his eyes stared ahead, reliving those moments of simplistic joy. “After your granddad died, and I set about working on an engine, I could then - and still can - hear his voice guiding my hand and telling me what to do.”

  Philip’s father had seen the horrors of war and although he didn’t want that life for his son, he appreciated that the balance of power was on such a knife-edge that if a war were to flare again, he would want him to be as prepared as possible.

  Even though his father was stern towards him and expected a lot from him, he always knew he loved him, even if he had difficulty showing it. Philip chose a selfless life, helping others by becoming a doctor and it was this choice that showed his father he had raised a good man.

  His parents seemed polar opposites in many respects, but as a couple they just seemed to work. Their contrasting personalities appeared to balance, shaping the perfect relationship. They had their ups and downs as many young couples did, but both knew that love wasn't about perfection, but rather it was about compromise. The mutual respect that they had for each other was unwavering and while the heady romance of their youth had settled down to a simmering glow, their mutual respect and admiration meant that they each would happily compromise for the other. They were a sensible couple, who worked hard in their youth to be in a position to start a family and be able to provide a good life for their future.

  Lee paused his thoughts and looked down at his hands. His unfinished coffee sat between them and now leant a pale stain to the inside of his cup. He stared down at it as he swirled the inch of liquid around the cup, a heavy sense of melancholy sitting on his shoulders. He thought back further, to a time before his parents were born and even before his granddad was born. Reminiscing on a time where he would have fitted into the world quite normally; a time where evolution wouldn’t have been so cruel as to make him feel alone in the world; the only ordinary man in a world of power.

  Today’s world was very different to the one that Lee dreamt off. And dream he often did. Although practical and hard working by nature, there was something hollow inside him; a feeling that he didn’t belong, and try as he might, he couldn’t escape this weighty feeling. So he consoled himself with his own thoughts of a world long since gone and the opposite of everything he now lived with. But those dreams always ended too quickly, leaving him with the reality of this life, where everyone is special, where the ability to do incredible things is an everyday occurrence and each person is gifted with an ability beyond the realm of what is comparable. In this world a child might have the ability to throw a car through the air; a person does not necessarily need a plane for the ability to fly; the most difficult mathematical problems can be solved in a matter of seconds by high school students.

  In this world, evolution took a major leap forward, unlocking the full potential of the human mind. This potential manifests itself differently in every being on this planet, gifting people with powers, an inherent concealed ability that manifests itself either through a physical capability or a mental ability. With these abilities there are a few effects on the human body, like physical exhaustion. It is easy to exhaust one’s power; the veiled capability of an individual tends to last about an hour or so. After a prolonged splurge of hidden virtue, an individual is left weakened, drained and in need of rest; thus for every person’s strength there is a corresponding weakness as unique to the individual as their abilities.

  This is a world that knows only peace. There are no crimes of any significance other than basic crimes any good beat cop could handle; no wars at all. This is a world where good and evil co-exist and have found equilibrium for survival, but this was not always the case. Crime tried to take over, with evil trying to take advantage of newfound strengths. People could simply walk into banks and take money, should they choose to.

  People who choose to murder and rape can never be seen committing crimes. Power-hungry leaders waged wars against weaker countries to steal natural resources and enslave the people as victims of war. Good people had to rise up against tyranny and a world war was fought.

  A young boy stood back from the table behind Lee, scraping his chair noisily along the floor as he did so, waking Lee from his reverie. He licked his lips and rolled his shoulders back, once more taking note of his surroundings. People going about their business in the normal way and yet none of them were normal. You could never tell what any one individual’s strength or weakness would be, although that did work to Lee’s advantage. He considered each person in the little café he sat in, imagining what their strength could be and how it might affect their day-to-day life. Did anyone else long for a different life as he did? He sighed; looking down at his hands clenched together so tightly the whites of his knuckles glared at him. Slowly
he released them, letting the frustration out through his nose. He needed to pull himself together and get on with his day. Yet something stopped him. The desire to carry on and pretend that he didn’t want something more, something that his parents always had, just wasn’t there. A flicker of shame settled in his stomach as he admitted to himself that just this once he wanted to wallow a little longer, his mind taking him back to a point where his father began to realise Lee was different.

  Being a single father with a full-time job didn’t make things easy. His two sons were both regular boys, they were fanatical about sports and would sit together and watch football and wrestling on the TV, often acting out the moves of their favourite wrestlers. Philip would take the boys out for food on the nights where his long hours got the better of him, leaving him reluctant to face the arduous task of cleaning up after dinner, although he actually enjoyed cooking for the boys.

  To Lee and Tom this was a welcome treat as Philip only ever had healthy food in the house and the idea of getting a burger and milkshake always seemed like such an exciting prospect. Philip would always allow Lee to order first, turning to him and asking, “What looks good Lee?” But no matter where they went for food, Lee would always look to his brother for guidance saying, “I don’t really know, Dad. What you think Tom?” and nearly always Lee would ask for the same as Tom, unless there were mushrooms in it. Lee hated mushrooms and Tom loved them, often ordering extra mushrooms to goad a reaction from Lee.

  They fought like normal boys do and had a textbook relationship. When Lee turned ten, his father became aware that he didn’t seem to have developed any of his hidden abilities yet. By is twelfth birthday he had still shown no heightened ability and his father grew concerned. He kept a close eye on him and subtly tested him by asking him to do things he couldn’t. Testing his strength, he would ask him to lift a box that he had deliberately weighted down. Or when he cut his leg he observed the wound, noticing that he had no accelerated healing. These were the most likely powers for him to have, as they were the powers his parents had. Philip began to see powers in everything he did, hoping to himself that each time he saw something it would be his power.