The Aberrant Series (Book 2): Super Vision

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The Aberrant Series (Book 2): Super Vision Page 1

by Franklin Kendrick




  SUPER VISION

  Book Two in The Aberrant Trilogy

  Franklin Kendrick

  © 2017 Franklin Kendrick

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this eBook may be copied in any form without permission of the author.

  All characters, places, and events in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real people or places, living, dead, or super heroic is strictly coincidental, or are used fictitiously.

  The author can be found at his website:

  franklinkendrick.com

  Also by Franklin Kendrick

  The Aberrant Series

  Super Charged

  Super Vision

  The Allagash Series

  Lockwood Tower (Book 1)

  The Can You Survive? Series

  The Zombie Apocalypse (Can You Survive?)

  The Zombie Cruise (Can You Survive?)

  The Entity Series

  Volume 1

  Volume 2

  Volume 3

  Volume 4

  Volume 5

  Volume 6

  Omnibus Edition

  The Commercial Street Haunting Series

  A Haunting on Commercial Street

  The One-Year eBook

  Contents

  Heroes and Villains

  Flagrant Missing

  The Cloak

  The Sidekick

  Burgers and Fries

  Test Run

  Return To Civilization

  Advice

  The Forums

  The Proposal

  Austin Spencer

  Back To The Woods

  A Warm Welcome

  The Run-In

  Aberrant Training Begins

  Super Speed

  The First Vision

  Responsibilities

  Resurfaced

  Attack and Pursuit

  The Drop-off

  Boiling Point

  The Production Meeting

  The Cave

  Sebago National Park

  The Second Vision

  The Invisible Enemy

  Costumes

  Spire Tech

  The Villain Unmasked

  The Master Plan

  The New Guard

  Decisions

  Targeted

  Stay Up To Date

  SUPER VISION

  Fallout

  Shaun Boding’s Aberrant persona.

  His powers include flight and pulse blasts.

  He is the fourth Aberrant to exist in recorded history.

  Mecha

  Mae Williams’s Aberrant persona.

  Powers currently unknown.

  The Drone:

  Fallout and Mecha’s mortal enemy. His powers include flight, super speed, and pulse blasts.

  He is an active seeker of the Vestige.

  1

  The Cloak

  Bill Flagrant never thought he would open his eyes again.

  When the rustling of dry leaves filled his ears, he slowly opened one eye and was greeted not by the blowing foliage of the wooded lakeside, but a framework of weathered wooden planks and steel.

  The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was being strapped onto a gurney, barreling from a hospital towards his final destination: another prison.

  However, prison was not where fate would have him, it seemed. The armored ambulance had stopped, pushed onto the side of the road by something or someone that Bill couldn’t see. He struggled to hear the sounds of raised voices before the pain of the stitches running up and down his spine overwhelmed him and threw him into a black, dreamless sleep.

  Now here he was.

  He didn’t move. He didn’t get up, but dug his fingers into the dirt beneath him. This was not sandy lake turf. The dirt that he dragged into his palms was cultivated, rich and tended.

  “Where the hell am I?” he muttered.

  Where were the guards? Where were the medical staff that were ordered to monitor him and ensure that he didn’t die, but rather lived to serve his inevitable new sentence of life in prison?

  A sharp pain stabbed his lower back - the stitches again. It was an intense pain that raked his raw flesh and he squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. His breathing came out between his teeth like a hissing snake. All his muscles tensed and he could not move. Then, when the pain subsided, he rolled over onto his side and pushed himself up into a kneeling position.

  To be completely honest, he was shocked that he could even stand up. When the Vestige was ripped from his neck and he plummeted from the sky, he remembered a distinct and sickening crunch as his body crashed through the dense tree branches and slammed into the ground. His vision had gone red, and his ears were ringing so loudly that he couldn’t hear anything over it. He knew that his life would never be the same again. Just to breathe again was a blessing that brought tears to his eyes.

  He focused on his breathing. Inhaling slowly, holding it, then exhaling towards the ground. A gust of wind ripped through his surroundings and rustled the dead leaves beneath him. They smelled of death and sweetness, a blend of orange, brown, and muted green.

  Bill lifted his head now and looked around.

  He was definitely crouched beneath a set of old bleachers, the kind you would find at a small-town football field. He got to his feet slowly, balancing his weight between each leg.

  Walking along the path beneath the metal trusses he came to the end and saw that he was indeed at a football field. The turf was well kept, and the score sign looked familiar.

  Squinting his eyes through the red pain that suddenly flared up again, he thought he read the name Pine Grove above the rest of the white lettering.

  How in the world was he suddenly at his hometown playing field? Where was the ambulance? Where were the EMTs, the people that were supposed to be helping him?

  Taking a sweeping look around, Bill knew that he was completely alone.

  There was something strange, though. Aside from the rustling of the leaves and the wind, there were no other sounds. No birds chirping, even though it appeared to be late afternoon. There was no rumbling of car engines in the distance, and no voices of athletes taking advantage of the quiet moments to get an extra jog in, or some practice before a big game that no doubt would take place soon. It was pre-season after all.

  But, that was the other thing that seemed strange to Bill. The scenery that surrounded him did not look like it belonged in June. Taking into account the dead leaves, the chilly wind, and the distant foliage of the surrounding woods, it looked like he had been transported months into the future where everything was now October. Either that, or he was in the past, which was impossible.

  He was about to walk towards the opening in the chain-link fence that surrounded the fields when a voice called out to him.

  “Bill?”

  The voice sounded far off, and there was a delay as his name echoed off the announcer’s tower. The voice continued, coming from behind him.

  “Bill, over here!”

  Bill turned around and his eyes widened when he spotted Jeff Boding walking across the football field towards him.

  “Jeff?” he said. “How is this possible? You’re supposed to be dead.”

  Indeed Jeff was dead, but then here he was, looking as young and healthy as ever. His face hadn’t changed very much. He still possessed that rugged handsomeness that seemed so out of place for his goofy sense of humor. His sandy hair was long at the top and blew across his face as he closed the gap between them.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Jeff asked, an amused look on his face. He came to a stop five or so feet away from Bill.

  Bill o
pened his mouth but no words came out. He was flabbergasted.

  “Is this some sort of dream?” he asked.

  Jeff laughed, his eyes squinting as a smile stretched across his face. He tilted his head back in amusement, bringing his hands to his stomach as if to hold the laughter in. Finally, the laughter subsided and he looked Bill right in the eye.

  “If this is a dream,” he said, “then it’s a pretty detailed dream, I’d say.”

  There was a pause as the two of them just stared at each other, Bill with a look of shock and Jeff with a look of amusement. Then Jeff’s face took on a serious expression and he solidified his stance on the turf. “Where is it, Bill?” he asked.

  Bill shook his head.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  Jeff took another step towards him, his foot planting roughly into the ground with a crunch.

  “Don’t play stupid with me,” Jeff said. “I know that you have the Vestige, and I want it.”

  Bill’s mind was swirling. None of this was possible. He must be having a horrible fever dream - hallucinations as a side effect of the anesthesia at the hospital.

  “No,” he said, his voice rising as he spoke. “No, no, no. This is a dream. A vision. None of this is really happening.”

  Jeff laughed even harder this time.

  “Keep telling yourself that,” he said. “This is not a dream.”

  “It is,” Bill replied. “It has to be.”

  He reached up a hand to the fleshy part of his arm and gathered his skin between his fingers, pinching it as hard as he could. He expected to feel nothing, but was shocked when pain flowed up his arm and he yanked his hand away with a yelp.

  Jeff continued to laugh as the pain in Bill’s back flared up once more and brought him to his knees. With tears blurring his vision, Bill looked up at Jeff’s wicked expression.

  “Believe me now?” asked Jeff.

  Bill struggled to get the words out amidst his shaking. His throat felt raw and he didn’t sound like himself.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  Jeff - who was starting to seem less and less like the real thing - brought his hands together with a clap.

  “How about we try someplace new?” he said.

  Sounds like the revving of a computer server grew over the rustling leaves and the wind until it drowned out everything. Then the sky went dark and, to Bill’s astonishment, everything became pixelated, like a great quilt of tiny squares. Those squares flared and rippled with color until suddenly everything around them transformed into a luxurious tropical beach.

  A blast of salty air assaulted Bill’s nostrils and he found himself coughing at the rawness of it.

  Beneath his hands he could feel the smooth, velvety white sand. It was hot and felt soothing. Behind him was a weathered wooden fence, held together by rough wire. The fence enclosed a yard full of seagrass that rippled in the wind. In front of him, and beyond Jeff, was the sparkling blue ocean framed with picturesque skies and fluffy white clouds. There was even a plane flying overhead with a giant banner. Bill couldn’t keep from smirking, despite his shock at what he was seeing. The words on the banner read, “Is this better for you?”

  He got to his feet and faced Jeff, who he was sure was not Jeff.

  “You have my attention,” he said. “Who are you? I know you’re not Jeff Boding.”

  “You’ve got that right,” the person who looked like Jeff said. “I’m not Jeff Boding, but isn’t it comforting to see him again? Or is it frightening? I’m really curious to hear your answer.”

  Bill was starting to become amused. It was clear that he wasn’t in any hospital. Who was this person, and how in the world did they get their hands on him?

  Obviously if he wanted the answers to these questions he would need to play along, so he did.

  “I’m not frightened,” he said. “Just curious. I know that Jeff is dead. He died in a plane crash. If you think I would find comfort in meeting him here, you are very mistaken. If Jeff were still alive, I would like nothing more than to fight him to the death for what he did to me. What he took from me.”

  Jeff’s face became amused again, his head cocking to one side.

  “So I’ve struck a nerve already? Very interesting. What did he do to you to make you want to kill him? That’s the big question.”

  When it was clear that Bill was not going to answer, the person who looked like Jeff continued.

  “You’re not the only one that Jeff Boding stole something from. He took things from me, too. Things that I’ve been trying to get back for a long time.”

  He paused as the wind played against their figures. Bill fixed a frown at the man in front of him.

  “You’re the one who saved me from prison,” he said. “Who are you?”

  The figure smiled.

  “I can look like whoever you want. Anyone at all. Your mother, a celebrity. I can even do a great impression of Santa Clause.” He chuckled, then took a few steps across the beach towards Bill. As he did so his appearance morphed into the same pixelated grid that surrounded them before the beach appeared and, within moments the man took on the appearance of a gorgeous woman holding suntan lotion. Her brown hair blew across her shoulders. She was the image of perfection. Her full lips smiled and her voice had changed into something fair and welcoming.

  “See?” she said. “You wouldn’t even know if I’m a man or woman.”

  “I’ll ask you again then,” said Bill. “Who are you really?”

  “You may call me The Cloak. Let’s just say I’m the person behind the digital curtain - a curtain of illusion.”

  “And why have you brought me here?” asked Bill.

  The Cloak studied him, arms folding.

  “I brought you here because I have a proposition for you,” said The Cloak. “I am in desperate need of your talents.”

  “My talents?” Bill laughed. “What talents are those?”

  The Cloak smiled and the figure of the beautiful woman began to morph once again, this time not settling as any figure in particular but instead swirling around like a see-through costume. The sky, sand, and water behind The Cloak looked like it was peeking through the man’s figure like he was made of rippled glass.

  “I know a lot more about you than you think,” said The Cloak. “I know that you grew up with Jeff Boding. I know that you used to create amazing machines. You might have become a great tech designer if you hadn’t gone and killed that girl.”

  “If I hadn’t gotten caught,” Bill muttered, and The Cloak cocked his head.

  “Exactly. If you hadn’t gotten caught. I don’t intend to get caught.”

  “I’m not killing anyone else,” said Bill. “That ship has come and gone. Shaun Boding is too powerful to take down without having powers like his, and last time I checked, nobody is getting near the Vestige unarmed while he holds it. He won’t give it up without a fight.”

  “Jeff Boding’s son,” said The Cloak. “You think I want to take the Vestige from him?”

  Bill shrugged.

  “Isn’t that what anyone who knows about the medallion wants?” he asked.

  “You’re not entirely wrong,” The Cloak continued. “I do want the Vestige, but I also want Shaun to join me. That doesn’t require killing him.”

  This made Bill laugh.

  “Like I said,” he replied. “Getting that medallion from the boy will require killing him. I also doubt Shaun will be willing to join up with anyone as mysterious as you.”

  “If I can get you to join me, then I’m sure I can get him to do the same,” said The Cloak. “Once he joins me, he will know my true intentions, the same as you.”

  “What intentions are those?” asked Bill. “World domination? Total power? Control over the human race?”

  “How about attracting willing subjects?” replied The Cloak.

  Bill raised his eyebrows.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, what if humanity willingly bowed d
own to me? To you? That would be a lot easier and cleaner than forcing them to do it.”

  Bill crossed his arms, intrigued. “And how do you plan to get them to do that?”

  He could hear the smile in The Cloak’s voice.

  “I’m going to save them from extinction.”

  The wind tugged at Bill’s hair, making static sounds in his ears. He lowered his arms.

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  The Cloak approached, stopping only a few steps from him.

  “Join me and help bring Shaun on board with our cause and you will share dominion over everything you can imagine. The entire world. You can have whatever you like.”

  “It sounds nice in theory,” Bill replied. “But, there’s one problem. I can’t walk any more. I’m paralyzed from the waist down. If I’m going to help you, I’ll only be good enough to work at a desk.”

  The Cloak stared at Bill, and even though he couldn’t see the man’s features, he could feel the man studying him.

  “What if I told you that if you join me, I have the technology to make you walk again?”

  A smile started to tug at the corners of Bill’s mouth.

  “I’d say that your proposition just got a whole lot more tempting,” he replied. “What do you say we drop this simulation and do the real talking?”

  The outline of The Cloak glanced around at their sandy surroundings.

  “Shake on it first,” he said, holding out a hand that became visible as a black glove and dark arm of a jacket.

  Bill wasn’t going to hesitate if the use of his legs would be his reward for cooperation, so he shook the hand.

  “It’s decided, then,” said The Cloak. Then, “Once the simulation is canceled, I can’t promise that you will be pain-free.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Bill replied. “I’m not going down that easily.”

  2

  The Sidekick

  Let’s get the introduction out of the way.

  I’m Shaun Boding, otherwise known in a very small circle as the superhero Fallout. Call me the first Aberrant - or the first superhero - in two decades, though you can hardly call me the first Aberrant ever. My grandfather was unofficially the first, with my father, Jeff the first one to take the name, followed by his nemesis, The Drone. So, that makes me number four. It’s a pretty important title, and one that I’m not taking lightly. Trust me.

 

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