Superhuman Nature

by Brandon Overall

  From then on, Neil found himself looking over his shoulder to make sure there weren’t any surface-to-air missiles or F16s on his tail. Getting blown up by the Air Force would be a pretty anti-climactic end to Neil’s story, and he didn’t wanted his Wikipedia article to say he died by being mistaken for a cruise missile.

  Neil woke up on Friday morning hovering above his bed, just like every other morning that week. The sleep was fantastic, but the levitation was a problem for which he would eventually have to figure out a solution. Although it was apparently an inconvenience at first, the problem was not without its silver linings. If Neil’s unconscious mind was able to control his abilities to his benefit, he might be able to find some way to turn that into an advantage. With some practice, he could allow his ability to become a natural part of his routine actions. Everything would become a bit easier.

  Just as the nervous system reflexively causes the eye to blink as something approaches it, Neil wondered if he would be able wield his power as a reflex as well. He might be able to protect himself against something that posed a threat, but wasn’t something he had time to consciously react to.

  With practice, Neil’s control over his ability grew exponentially day by day. He no longer needed concentration to bring new objects under his influence. His body naturally moved with a combination of natural motion and mental supplementation. Everyday tasks which normally required some amount of strength were automatically supplemented with his power. Lifting his heavy backpack over his shoulder now required as little physical effort as tossing an empty pillow case in the same way.

  He quickly realized that avoiding the use of his muscles could eventually have undesired side effects. If his muscles atrophied from under-use, his body would begin to look frail. It would look suspicious when he was able to lift heavy objects with ease. Neil decided that even though he didn’t need to be strong physically, it was still important to look the part if he wanted to avoid attention.

  He started going to the gym after class every day and lifting weights to the point of muscular exhaustion. When he got too tired to complete the repetition, he supplemented mental strength as necessary until his muscles weren’t doing any of the work anymore.

  Lifting heavy weights at the gym provided another source of amusement for Neil from the confused looks he received when people saw a 160 pound guy bench pressing multiple repetitions at 350 pounds. A jealous gym-goer challenged him to a pull-up contest to protect his ego, so Neil did 40 perfect pull-ups in a row without stopping. His opponent threw his towel down and stormed out of the gym in a rage.

  Neil completed all of his homework on Friday evening in preparation for his trip to Georgia to meet Carl Delmont. The next week was the only week remaining before finals, and Neil had already completed all of his end of semester projects. He had Bryan to thank for some of that. Neil went to sleep on Friday much earlier than he usually did so that he would be well rested for the trip. He had no idea what to expect from Delmont, so he thought it would be best to walk into the meeting with a full night’s sleep.

  While lying in bed trying to fall asleep, he couldn’t help but think back to the dream he had about the dark room. The man in the trench coat was trying to warn him about something. Normally, Neil wouldn’t even be slightly concerned about the content of a dream, but the vivid nature of his dreams lately made them feel more important. They all felt more like memories than dreams.

  ‘Don’t trust him.’ Neil heard the voice from the dream echoing in his head. Who could he be referring to? The only person Neil could think of was Delmont, but he had no reason not to trust him. Neil pushed the thought aside for the time being and drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 9

  Neil rose early Saturday morning before the sun. He had to fly to Georgia under the cover of darkness if he was going to make it without being seen. He fixed himself breakfast while he was upstairs in the shower, after making sure no one was in the kitchen to see a ghost chef. He flew his meal up to his computer desk and checked his e-mail. He decided it would be a good idea to let Delmont know he was planning on meeting him that day, so he sent a message explaining how he flew in the previous night and would be at the library precisely at noon.

  Neil emptied his backpack of school supplies to make sure his motorcycle helmet would fit. His thermal suit had arrived the previous afternoon from Amazon, so he would be better protected from the cold at high altitudes. He was still limited by the oxygen content of the air, but as long as he kept his heart rate low, thirty-thousand feet shouldn’t be a problem. His body wasn’t expending very much energy, so he didn’t need to breathe very much.

  He took one last look at the map to make sure he knew the route to Augusta, Georgia, and stepped outside to don his gear for take-off. The suit fit comfortably and kept him warm. His helmet made a nice seal with the suit, so the cold wouldn’t seep through at his neck. Neil put his backpack on over the thermal suit and departed for Augusta.

  It was a clear night sky, so Neil could follow the streetlights and cars on the highway all the way to his destination. His new thermal suit kept him cozy, even at excessively high altitudes and speeds. His window shielded him from the violent wind. He pushed his speed up to over mach 1.5, and rose up to twenty-thousand feet. He could have gone higher, but was worried he would lose track of the highway.

  It took less than an hour for him to reach his destination. He dropped down to ten-thousand feet so that his phone’s GPS would work better. Once his phone locked on, he used it to position himself above the library. He released control over his body and let himself free fall all the way to the ground.

  This was his favorite way to return to the surface of the earth. The fall gave him time to mentally pull himself back into a world where physics worked and where he didn’t feel like a god. It became increasingly difficult to separate himself from his ability. He relied on small little tricks he had come up with to ease the transition. Remnants of his past life, familiar behavior, and familiar people all helped to pull him back into reality.

  The sensation of free falling made him feel human. After flying faster than the speed of sound for a while, he needed that jolt back to reality to remember the rules. The rules always kept him safe. The rules were the reminders he had set for himself to make sure he didn’t use his power in any way that would get him discovered. His power had become such a natural part of his daily routine already that it was easy for him to forget that normal people didn’t type with their mind, sleep three feet above their mattress, or fly to class every morning.

  By the time he landed, it was just before 7:00. The sun had just started to peak above the horizon. Neil landed with the library directly in front of him, exactly where his phone’s GPS told him it would be. He searched around for a place to spend the next few hours, and decided to stop by the Starbucks across the street. He bought a cup of coffee and read the paper while he waited for noon.

  There was nothing particularly interesting going on in the paper. The popular thing for the public to be angry about lately was the leaked documents revealing that the NSA was spying on citizens illegally.

  ‘Big surprise’, Neil thought. He wasn’t particularly worried about the NSA. He wasn’t particularly worried about anything, actually. Nobody could hurt him as long as his loved ones were safe. He didn’t care who was spying on his internet browsing activities.

  Neil flipped through a few more uninteresting pages to pass the time. He saw headlines like “Local man gunned down by gang initiation”, “Cop accused of planting evidence in race related crime”, “Chicago resident captures unexplainable photograph using thermal imaging”, “Florida women gets” – Neil paused. He read the previous headline again about the Chicago resident.

  No. It couldn’t be. Neil looked at the picture beneath the headline, and there was the unmistakable image of a human shaped figure flying through the air above the Chicago skyline. The photographer was using some sort of high-powered infra-red camera that colored hot objec
ts as white, and cold objects as black. Neil’s body heat was more than enough to make him stand out against the cool midnight air.

  The figure was clearly human in shape. His outstretched arm, two legs, and head were easily distinguishable. It wasn’t immediately apparent that the figure was wearing a motorcycle helmet, but Neil could see the outline since he knew what to look for.

  There was no way the photograph could be traced back to Neil, but nevertheless, he would have to be more careful. He would only fly at high altitudes now, and he would only ascend straight up; No more angled take-offs.

  With any luck, everyone would think it was a hoax or a photoshopped image, but it was still too close of a call for Neil feel comfortable. He would definitely have to be more careful.

  Neil sipped at his coffee while considering all the possible consequences that could come from the image. Worst case scenario, the picture could be complemented with corroborating eye witness testimonies, and he would have a media frenzy on his hands. The whole social media landscape would explode from the people claiming to know the identity of the ‘flying man’. That kind of attention was not what Neil wanted to deal with. Best case scenario, the image would be declared as some unexplainable trick photography, swamp gas, or would just end up being forgotten about in a week. Neil hoped for the latter.

  It was almost noon, so Neil tossed the newspaper and his coffee cup in the trash and walked out the front door to the Starbucks. He set his backpack down behind a dumpster next to the library so that Delmont wouldn’t ask any questions about it.

  As he approached the double doors leading into the library, Neil’s heart started racing. He felt strangely uncomfortable with this whole situation. He was about to tell part of his story to someone who he had never met before, and had no idea if he was trustworthy. He didn’t know if this man was crazy or some kind of scam artist. He didn’t even know what he looked like. In retrospect, he should have looked for pictures on Delmont’s website.

  Neil opened the doors to the library and stepped inside. He scanned the room, unsure of what exactly he was looking for.

  “Can I help you, Sir?”

  The librarian behind the desk stood up and spoke to Neil. He obviously looked lost. She wore a bright red dress and had her hair back in a bun. She was curiously pretty and young for a librarian.

  “Oh, no thanks ma’am. I’m just looking for someone I was supposed to meet here.”

  “Are you looking for Mr. Delmont? He’s the gentleman sitting over there in the black hat.”

  Neil looked where she was pointing, and saw an older looking man sitting down. He stared directly at Neil with his hands folded on top of the table. When Neil made eye contact with him, the man bowed his head as a greeting to beckon Neil over.

  Neil walked cautiously over to Delmont, scanning the man’s appearance as he inched closer. His eyes were fixated on the hat. It was a black wide-brimmed fedora. It definitely looked unique, but also familiar. Neil could have sworn he had seen it somewhere before.

  “Richard, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Carl Delmont. I’m honored that you flew all the way here to speak with me. That must have been quite the trip.”

  The man stood up and held out his hand as Neil got close. It took Neil a second to remember the alias he had used in the email. As soon as he heard the man’s old, raspy voice, Neil recognized who it was. It was the man from his dream - the man who had given him the warning.

  Neil tried to hide his surprise from the man as he shook his hand.

  “Mr. Delmont, it’s a pleasure. I was lucky to catch a flight out on short notice. Thank you for meeting me here like this. I hope I didn’t ruin any weekend plans of yours.”

  Delmont removed his hat and smiled. His face was wrinkled, despite only being in his mid 50s. His hair was grey and parted down the middle. It was relatively long, and extended outwards from his ears. He had the appearance of a tired man who had lived a full life in half the time. His bright blue eyes were calm. Neil didn’t get the impression that he was speaking with a crazy man or a scam artist, but he reserved judgment for a little while at least.

  “Please, Carl is fine. If you don’t mind, I have reserved a study room that we can use to have a more…private conversation.”

  Delmont beckoned towards a private study room a little ways away. Neil felt a bit uncomfortable about going into a soundproof room with a potentially shady guy like Delmont, but his curiosity got the better of him. He proceeded towards the room, with Delmont trailing silently behind him.

  When they entered the room, Delmont shut the door and locked it behind him. He then scanned the walls, as if he were looking for something.

  “Are you looking for something, Mr. Del – Carl?”

  “Bugs.”

  “Bugs?”

  “Yes. I’m trying to make sure the contents of our conversation do not leave this room. As you no doubt have guessed, my blog has given me a little bit of unwanted attention from our friends in the government. Particularly the NSA. They know I come here frequently to speak with fans about their experiences. I am here to make sure you can speak your mind without worry.”

  Seeming satisfied with his scan of the room, Delmont sat down at the chair opposite from Neil.

  “So, here’s how this works. I’ll tell you my story, and then if you feel comfortable, you tell me yours. Fair?”

  It was phrased like a question, but the assertiveness in Delmont’s voice let Neil know he didn’t really have a choice. Neil figured that was the method that Delmont used with all of his followers, and decided to let him use the tried and true method he was already comfortable with.

  “Fair.” Neil stated.

  Carl began to tell the story of his life after he discovered his powers. He first started experiencing strange occurrences during the summer of 1982. What he described was similar to what Neil had experienced in the first couple days that his ability manifested itself. He talked about objects falling over as he was reaching for them, things being thrown about his room after waking up from a nightmare, and breaking things when he was angry. He was 22 at the time, and still living with his parents. They convinced him to see a psychiatrist.

  Finally, during a therapy session, Carl got fed up with being told it was all in his head and sent all the books on the bookshelf flying across the room. The psychiatrist was terrified, and refused to see him anymore afterwards. One day, a few weeks after he stopped seeing his psychiatrist, men in suits came to his door and ‘persuaded’ Carl to come with them. They said they were just going to ask him a few questions.

  Carl spent the next two years as their prisoner. They tried to test the limits of his power, and also tried to help him control it. They would hook him up to machines and try to monitor his brain activity to locate the source of his power. Their goal was ultimately to turn him into a weapon. Carl’s abilities weren’t quite like Neil’s. He never gained full control over it. It happened on its own whenever he got emotional.

  They tried repeatedly to ‘help’ Carl gain control over his abilities, but it was no use. Finally, they decided to take a different approach. They tortured him until he was filled with so much hatred that he was constantly in an elevated emotional state.

  They had professional interrogators slice every sensitive part of his skin open with a knife. They squeezed every pressure point on his body that caused him unimaginable agony. They used every trick in the book to make him hurt in ways that wouldn’t leave any lasting injuries or broken bones.

  This continued for months. Whenever he was able to demonstrate his ability, they just increased the level of pain. It worked, but not like they planned.

  They pushed him too far one day.

  Finally, he had enough. His rage manifested into an unbelievable surge of energy. Carl killed everyone in the testing facility, over two dozen people, and leveled the building in one violent outburst.

  The facility was housed in the basement of an abandoned middle school. Residents in a nearby neig
hborhood heard what sounded like an explosion, and the police came to investigate. They found Carl surrounded in a heap of rubble, still screaming at the top of his lungs for the pain to stop.

  Carl was brought to the hospital, but he slipped into a state of psychosis. He was unresponsive for over a year. He responded to basic stimuli like food and water, but didn’t speak a word the entire time. He abruptly snapped back into reality one night.

  The nurses at the psychiatric hospital heard him screaming during the dead of night, the same way he did when he was found after the incident. It took a few minutes for him to calm down once he realized that he was no longer in the testing facility.

  He was released a few weeks after he regained his sanity. The medical staff determined that there was nothing wrong with him, mentally. Carl said that his abilities had never manifested again ever since he woke up at the hospital. Whatever it was in his mind that had spontaneously turned on in 1982 had turned itself off three years later.

  From that point on, Carl had spent his life trying to find other people like him. He created support groups for psychics, wrote articles in newspapers and magazines, and searched any records he could find for information, but he never found anyone in all of his years of searching. Everyone he had ever spoken to was unable to demonstrate their ‘abilities’ in front of him. Some tried to trick him by performing illusions, but Carl saw through those.

  He created his blog in 2005 to try to expand his search. It turned into a community full of attention seekers and scam artists, all too stubborn to admit that they were all lying to each other. Carl said he received dozens of emails a day from people trying to find some way to turn their hoaxed abilities into fame or fortune. When he read Neil’s email, it didn’t give off the impression of a liar. Something about Neil’s letter convinced Carl that he was a man genuinely seeking to understand what was happening to him. That was the only reason he agreed to meet him in person.