Empowered Academy 1985

by Dawn Jansen

  In the past, I might have refused to do something outside the box like this, but recently I’d started to see how maybe Ramsey’s penchant for bending the rules could be beneficial at times, so I nodded and began to step forward.

  I was stopped by somebody grabbing my arm.

  “Wait,” Edgar said, squeezing firmly on my bicep so I couldn’t advance. “What’s wrong with the way we’ve been doing each staircase? If she goes up alone like that, it will put her in danger.”

  I was touched that Edgar was thinking about my safety, and even more moved that he was willing to speak up for me so decisively. It was quite different from the boy who had stormed out of the cafeteria his first day at the Academy.

  “She’ll be fine,” Ramsey said derisively. “In case you’ve forgotten, she has both of our powers too. She can phase through the wall if she needs to.”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to reassure Edgar. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Nah, man,” Edgar said, staring directly at Ramsey. “Let’s stick to the plan.”

  Ramsey looked pissed now. There was serious tension brewing between the two of them, and it made me concerned given that my eventual plan was to tell them I liked both of them. I was majorly uncomfortable, but I didn’t know what to do. I’d never expected Edgar to be so hardheaded—maybe he actually could tell there was something between me and Ramsey and it was making him jealous?

  “Emily,” Ramsey said to me, “climb up there now.”

  Though it was breaking protocol, Ramsey’s idea made sense, and he was, after all, the one in command of our squad after Mr. Diaz. Before I could react, however, Edgar strode forward toward the stairwell on his own.

  “Hey! Get back here, rookie!” Ramsey hissed, but it was too late—Edgar had already begun ascending the staircase. Apparently, he really took offense to Ramsey’s idea of putting me in danger, so he decided to put himself in danger instead.

  I looked to Ramsey helplessly. His face was beet red with anger, and then he finally whispered, “Let’s go.”

  We started up the stairwell after Edgar, but we’d already blown any chance we had at stealth (this seemed to be a pattern with me). With Edgar stomping up the stairs and Ramsey whisper-shouting after him, anybody who might have been on the fourth floor was well aware of our presence by now.

  And just as luck would have it, while there hadn’t been anybody on the first three floors, we heard a commotion coming from the fourth floor as we dashed up the stairwell behind Edgar. When we reached Edgar, he was crouched beneath the fourth-floor landing.

  “There’s somebody up there,” he said to us when we arrived.

  “No shit, Sherlock!” Ramsey shouted, by now having dispensed with any pretense of stealth. “So much for your brilliant plan. Let’s smash them!”

  “Wait, Ramsey,” I said, grabbing on to Ramsey’s shirt to stop him from charging forward. “We have no idea who it is. It might just be some bums or something.”

  As we spoke, the commotion coming from the fourth floor grew louder, and right after I finished my sentence, we heard the unmistakable sound of a man’s voice speaking Russian. Coming from Maine, I had only ever heard Russian being spoken on TV or in movies. Hearing it now in the flesh—and especially coming from somewhere inside an abandoned insane asylum—sent shivers up my spine

  “How many bums do you know who speak Russian?” Ramsey said. “Let’s go!”

  He was right; our intel was accurate. It was now time for action.

  We jumped out onto the fourth-floor hallway and immediately saw dark figures—I wasn’t sure how many—ducking into one of the rooms down the hall. We ran after them immediately. I quickly scaled the nearest wall and climbed across the old ceiling so that if there were any ambushes, I’d be able to counterattack from above.

  Now that we’d given chase, total chaos had broken out in the room the figures ran into. We heard unintelligible shouting and the sound of people scrambling around coming from inside.

  Predictably, Ramsey was the first to dive into the room. I stayed in the hallway, poised on the ceiling, waiting to make sure that nobody ran out, as Edgar phased through the wall, perhaps hoping to catch some of them off guard.

  I watched as Ramsey plowed into the first person in his way—a young man who looked to be about the same age as us; if he was empowered, he didn’t have any chance to show off his power before Ramsey basically embedded him in the wall with his tackle. Bits of plaster and dust fell from the ceiling as Ramsey and the man collided into the wall, and right after that I saw an arc of lightning shoot out from somewhere inside the room and shock Ramsey. They were empowered after all.

  As soon as I saw the blinding currents paralyzing Ramsey, I immediately jumped off the ceiling and ran inside too. I still didn’t know how many rogue empowered there were, and I knew Ramsey and Edgar would need my help.

  Upon entering the room, it was obvious that people had been staying here for a while. There were mattresses, blankets, recent newspapers, candles, and other objects that hinted at habitation. And now I saw there were only about four of the rogue empowered in this room—less than I had been expecting. Ramsey had already crushed one against the wall, but besides him there was the one currently shooting lightning from his hands at Ramsey and another male with longish blond hair who was crouched down near a woman in the corner. The woman looked young and beautiful, but there was obviously something wrong with her; she seemed catatonic almost, with her hair in complete disarray and her clothing all disheveled. The man seemed to be protecting her.

  Just as I was about to charge the one electrocuting Ramsey, Edgar phased out of the wall behind him and wrapped his arms around the man, setting him up for a suplex. This saved Ramsey from being electrocuted, but then sparks of electricity started running throughout the man’s entire body, shocking both him and Edgar, who was holding onto him from behind. The two of them fell to the ground together and began rolling around as the man struggled to break free.

  Just then, the blond-haired man who had been crouching near the woman suddenly stood up and jumped through a secondary door that led out into another part of the hallway—he was trying to escape! The woman was still catatonic, so I knew she wasn’t going anywhere, and I figured Edgar and Ramsey should be able to handle the electrokineticist, so I decided to chase after the man.

  “Call for backup!” I shouted to Ramsey. He was just now gaining back his senses and had started to pick himself up from the man he tackled. I saw Ramsey reach for his walkie-talkie as I dashed out of the room and down the hallway in pursuit of the other man.

  “Stop!” I shouted, almost instinctively because I knew it was in vain. The man was fast. We had been going up the central stairwell before, but judging by this man’s bearing, he was headed for one of the side stairwells. He charged forward, occasionally knocking down a gurney or random chair behind him in an attempt to block my path. Luckily, Lizzy’s power allowed me to run along the wall when needed, and other times I used Edgar’s power to phase through the objects he flung behind him.

  It was very dark and I was running hectically, but I was almost sure I saw his limbs elongate each time he reached out, and his legs seemed to stretch unnaturally as he ran. I was just about to reach him at the side stairwell, and I knew I’d be able to close the distance between us when I chased him down the stairs, but to my surprise, he didn’t take the stairs; instead, he jumped directly out of the nearby window.

  Glass shattered everywhere as he broke through the window and disappeared into the night air. I reached the window maybe two or three seconds later and looked out to see that he hadn’t jumped—he was stretching his arms out a dozen feet at a time and scaling down the building. So that was his power; he was basically a living Stretch Armstrong.

  I weighed my options. He was lowering himself down the building quickly; even if I ran as fast as I could, he’d be gone by the time I reached the first floor if I took the stairs. I had to use my powers.

  I vaulted over the windo
w and used Lizzy’s power to stick to the side of the exterior wall, after which I began scaling down the building as fast as I could. He looked up at me, apparently surprised at my tenacity, which gave me a better look at his face. He was surprisingly handsome, with dirty blond hair that went down to his chin and broad features that accented his determined expression perfectly. I couldn’t stop to ogle him, though; I was catching up quickly, and as soon as he hit the ground, I leaped off the building, aiming my trajectory so that I landed directly on top of him. I was about two stories up when I jumped, and as I soared through the air, I increased the density in my legs so that I’d drop on him like an anvil.

  I thought I would have landed on top of him with a loud thud, but instead I somehow found myself wrapped tightly in his arms, which stretched impossibly, twisting around me like bungee cord. I felt like I was trapped by an anaconda. I couldn’t budge an inch.

  Both of us were panting heavily from the chase, and our faces were only a few inches apart. Now, up close, I saw that he really was gorgeous. His eyes were on the small side, but they were framed exquisitely by his full, dark eyebrows. He peered at me with confidence and conviction, and I couldn’t help but notice how inviting his succulent, well-proportioned lips looked, even as he gritted his teeth in exertion. And although I hated to admit it, it was actually very arousing being pressed up against him so close.

  “Let go of me, you commie rat,” I growled, struggling in vain against his elongated arms, disappointed in myself for feeling turned on by him.

  “That’s a little harsh, chica,” he answered in a jovial voice. “I’m more of a viper than a rat.”

  I furrowed my brow. He had a Californian accent. And he just called me “chica.”

  “You’re not Russian?” I asked in confusion, still struggling against his hold.

  “Are those the kinds of lies they’re spreading about us over at the Academy?” he said with a sigh. “Hell no, I’m not Russian. Does that mean you won’t try to kill me if I let you go?”

  This whole time I’d been thinking he was a Soviet agent, a ruthless assassin, a spy. The way he talked in such colloquial English totally threw me off, and he must have felt that I was too confused to keep struggling because he let go of his hold on me. I watched in amazement as his arms stretched back to normal proportions.

  “You’re pretty heavy for a hot little thing,” he said, rubbing his arms. “Is that part of your power too?”

  “Kind of—I—Wait, what the hell is going on?” I said, rubbing my forehead in disbelief. “We heard you guys speaking Russian.”

  “We learned a few phrases so we could talk with Vera,” he answered nonchalantly, as though I would have any idea who “Vera” was.

  “Who are you? What were you all doing in a god damn abandoned psych center?”

  “Trying to protect her,” he said, this time in a more serious tone.

  “What’s so special about her?” I asked, still trying to piece everything together. “She’s the Russian one? That girl back there?”

  “Yes. She’s a victim of the Soviet program, and perhaps the most powerful EMP alive. But I guess that doesn’t mean anything to you Grays. We were trying to save her, and then you came in and... probably have killed her by now.”

  “No,” I said emphatically. “We were sent here to bring you in, not kill you.”

  I said that, but in truth I wasn’t sure what went down in the room after I chased after Stretch Armstrong over here. I hoped she was still alive. He said she was a victim, and that’s exactly what she looked like. What had she experienced to put her in that catatonic state?

  “Maybe that makes you one of the good ones, then. What’s your name, little dove?” he asked with a smirk. He had an aura of suaveness and confidence that seemed wholly out of place given the severity of the situation he was in.

  “Emily,” I replied, almost automatically. There was something about him—his good looks, his charisma, his mysteriousness—that enchanted me.

  After I told him my name, he leaned in and kissed my lips—something in between an innocent peck and a full-blown French kiss. It felt surreal, his lips on mine, his tongue flicking my top lip as he pulled away.

  “I’m Hugo,” he said with a wink, grinning as he turned around.

  I was in too much of a stupor to respond, and right after he told me his name, he strode away. He rose several feet into the air, his legs extending to impossible lengths as they took him away into the dark forest, where he quickly disappeared.

  I let him get away. I could have used his own power to go after him just as fast, but I didn’t. It was in part because I was in shock, but also in part because, in my heart, I knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Bad guys didn’t protect the innocent. Bad guys didn’t care so much about others. And I didn’t think they looked so god damn handsome either.

  But if he wasn’t a bad guy, what did they make us if we were the ones trying to stop them?

  “Whoa. He’s hot,” somebody said from behind me.

  I spun around to see Lizzy, who was standing at the building’s side entrance.

  “Mr. Diaz sent me to look for you,” she explained, walking toward me. “So they’re not Soviets, huh?”

  “You heard all of that?” I asked.

  “No. Just the end. But I heard the way he talked. He sounded like a surfer. And what was up with his power? He’s like Mr. Fantastic.”

  “I was thinking Stretch Armstrong... But he’s gone now. I let him get away...”

  “Maybe it’s for the best,” Lizzy said, giving me a knowing look.

  I stayed silent, wondering if perhaps Lizzy was asking herself the same questions I had been.

  ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━

  “Is the bag really necessary?” I asked.

  We were all back in the van, but this time there was a new addition: the catatonic girl from the insane asylum, or “Vera” as I knew her. Even though she was unresponsive, Mr. Diaz insisted on keeping a black bag over her head like she was some kind of terrorist. It made me sick.

  “We have no idea what her powers are,” Mr. Diaz explained. “They may be activated based on some kind of sensory stimulation, so it only makes sense we keep her bagged for now.”

  Mr. Diaz and Lizzy looked fine, but Edgar and Ramsey looked like they’d been through hell. Their hair was fried from being electrocuted and they were covered in scrapes and bruises too. The electrokinetic user back there had really given them a tough time, but Edgar and Ramsey ended up killing him in the end. They had no choice, but it was the first time either of them had taken a life, and they both looked pretty shaken up. That’s how, despite Ramsey’s hardheadedness, I knew he was a good person.

  And despite all the nasty surprises I experienced tonight, I was happy to see that Ramsey and Edgar seemed much closer than before. Apparently Edgar had proved to Ramsey that he was a capable partner, and Edgar saw that Ramsey was reliable too. At any rate, it looked like they had earned each other’s respect, and this gave me renewed hope that things between the three of us just might work out after all.

  I was exhausted, both physically from using my powers, and emotionally from everything that had happened with Hugo. I would be in deep shit if I told anybody that I let him get away like that, so I just said he lost me in the forest. It didn’t feel good to lie, but it was better than getting chewed out by my dad. Lizzy knew the truth, but there was no way she’d tell anybody about what really happened, so I didn’t have to worry.

  Throughout the whole van ride back to the Academy, I couldn’t stop thinking about Hugo. Why had he called us “Grays?” Why had he seemed so righteous, as though he was the one upholding justice? It made me question a lot of things, and it also made me wonder about Vera. Was she really the strongest empowered on the planet? I studied her as she sat in the van with us, that black bag draped over her face. She was pale and wiry, and her skin was covered in scars that looked like they’d been deliberately inflicted on her. There was no way Hugo was the typ
e of person to scar somebody like that, so perhaps what he said was true; perhaps she was a “victim” of the Soviets herself.

  Hugo’s kiss was lingering on my mind, too, just as his power was lingering in my core. Right when his lips had parted from mine, I realized I had absorbed his power, and it still flowed through me now. It was like none other I had ever experienced. It felt free and unhindered, nothing like the rigid and structured day-to-day existence I had known throughout my whole life. And feeling his power inside me now made me realize for the first time that I yearned for that freedom too.

  Chapter 15

  Emily

  This was the earliest my dad had ever called me into his office, but I guessed it was because the mission last night had been pretty significant; two rogue empowered KIA, one escaped, and one captured. I wasn’t sure if he was going to congratulate me on a job well done or chew me out for letting one get away, but I had a feeling it would be the latter.

  The guards outside his office pat me down one last time before the metallic doors whisked open and I stepped into my dad’s cramped office. My dad was an early riser; it was only eight in the morning, but I was sure he’d already been through at least three newspapers and was whittling down his second cup of coffee by now.

  “Sit,” he ordered when I came in, curt as usual.

  I sat down on the other side of his desk. I could never read his expression, so I didn’t even try; I just waited for him to speak.

  “I was the one who pushed for you to be chosen for that mission last night,” he said without any preamble.

  My eyes widened in shock, but then I quickly put on a normal face; my dad didn’t consider it proper to make exaggerated expressions.

  “It was an important mission. A dangerous mission. And I wanted you to prove your worth. If you’d failed or been killed, it would have meant that you weren’t cut out to be an EMP. But you did well.”