Superhero Detective Series (Book 4): Hunted

by Brasher, Darius

  Suddenly Bubba and Marcus were standing on either side of me.

  “Don’t hit him,” Bubba said, grabbing Donovan’s arm. I could have kissed him. “The coach said the next time you got into a fight, he’d have to bench you. We’ve got some big games coming up. We need you on the field.”

  From behind the Three Horsemen, I saw John creeping up. Though I did not know how much help he would be, it was good to see I was not in this pickle alone. John continued right past where the Three Horsemen were clustered around me. Moving as quickly as his legs would let him, he opened the door. John fled the bathroom without so much as a backwards glance at me.

  Huh. I guess what they said was true—no good deed went unpunished. So much for the idea of all for one and one for all. Maybe that was only true in books.

  Nobody other than me seemed to notice John was gone. The Three Horsemen were too focused on me. Lucky me.

  “You’re right Bubba,” Donovan said after a long hesitation during which I anxiously visualized my head being knocked off my body like a golf ball driven off a tee. Donovan lowered his clenched fist reluctantly. He still held me up by my shirt. “I’m not going to risk getting benched over this loser. Can’t let him get away with talking to me like that, though. Tell you what, faggot,” he said to me, “since you’re so concerned about where I pee at, how about I pee on you?”

  “No thanks. I’ve been peed on twice today already. I’ve had my fill.” I was trying to joke my way out of this. No one laughed.

  “Hold him down,” Donovan said to Bubba and Marcus. Oh my God, he was serious! I started to kick and struggle. It was already too late. Bubba had me by my legs; Marcus had me by my arms. Donovan let go of my shirt. Grinning like kids on Christmas Day, Bubba and Marcus separated until I stretched out lengthwise between the two of them. Looking up at the tiled bathroom ceiling, I twisted and bucked, trying to free myself. If the viselike grips of the two loosened even slightly, it was not enough to notice. They put me down on the cold floor. Already much taller than I, Donovan now stood over me like a giant. I continued to struggle, succeeding only in banging the back of my head against the hard floor. I saw stars.

  “Get me go!” I shouted.

  Donovan reached into the fly of his pants. “As soon as my bladder is empty, we’ll let you go,” he said. He laughed a short sadistic bark that made me want to punch his lights out. He aimed. A stream of wetness hit my face. I turned my face away from it.

  “Let me go, let me go, let me go!” I screamed over and over. I tasted urine in my mouth. Some of it got into my eyes. I tried to blink it away. I snorted as some of the urine went up my nose. I bucked violently, still trying to free myself. Marcus and Bubba held me down as easily as holding down a child. I felt a combination of anger, impotence, and humiliation. Especially humiliation. I started to cry tears of frustration. Crying made me feel even worse about myself. I was nothing but a big baby who could not even defend himself. And, like a wet baby, I stank of urine. What if Mom was looking down at me and saw me like this? I was filled with shame at the thought.

  The sounds of the Three Horsemen’s laughter and the splashing of liquid against my face and neck filled my ears. I bucked even harder in Bubba’s and Marcus’ grasp. My heart pounded, harder and harder, until it seemed it would explode right out of my chest. My hands now felt even hotter than before, as if they had been thrust into the hot coals of a fireplace.

  I had the sudden mental image of being strong enough to pull Bubba and Marcus off of me and flinging them against the wall. Donovan I would shove backwards into the stall behind us, stuffing him into the toilet. I saw it clearly in my mind’s eye like I was looking at a vivid photograph.

  “GET OFF OF ME!” I shouted yet again. The words felt like they came from the depths of my soul. The burning sensation of my hands, already intense, moved up to a whole new level of pain, as if they had been left in the hot coals long enough to catch fire themselves.

  Suddenly, all hell broke loose. Both Bubba’s and Marcus’ hands were pulled off of me. They both launched into the air, as if they had been picked up by an invisible giant and thrown. They cried out in surprise and confusion. They sailed through the air. They slammed into opposite walls of the bathroom with a loud crash. Bubba bounced off the wall a bit, landing face-first on the tile floor. The tile cracked where Bubba’s face slammed into it. He did not move. As for Marcus, he slid like a wet towel down the wall he had been thrown into. He slid until he landed hard on his butt, with his legs splayed out in front of him. His head lolled a little from side to side.

  Donovan was not immune from whatever was happening. He flew back into the partially closed door of the stall behind him like he was a cannonball shot out of a cannon. The stall door flew all the way open, crashing into the stall wall. The crash sounded like a shotgun blast. Donovan landed butt-first in the open toilet. He went down deep into the bowl, like a dunked basketball. His legs dangled from the toilet, with his feet barely touching the floor.

  There was dead silence for a moment, as if the entire world was stunned by what had just happened. The silence was then broken by the sound of the automatic toilet flushing. Water sprayed up, hitting Donovan in the face. I might have laughed at the sudden turnabout had I not been so astonished.

  I sat up. I turned my head repeatedly from side to side like a crazy person, frantically looking to see who had done whatever had just happened. I saw no one. Other than the groans of Marcus and Donovan, I heard no one. The Three Horsemen and I were still alone in the bathroom.

  I lifted my hands up. They still felt like they were on fire. They also looked different than they normally did. As I looked at them, twisting them from side to side, waves of energy radiated from them, like waves of heat coming off a hot highway. I tore my eyes off of them and looked down at my wet Avatar tee shirt.

  I could scarcely believe it, though it was as obvious as the big A that was on my chest and the stench of urine that filled my nostrils.

  I had superpowers. Like Avatar, I was a Metahuman.

  Holy crap!

  Caped can be found here:

  CAPED