Teen Superheroes Box Set | Books 1-7
Page 3
‘We’re closing soon,’ the woman called from her desk.
The woman was becoming icier by the moment. Maybe she was losing her game. Still, I bravely asked her for directions, and within minutes I was walking through the city with a spring in my step. An hour before, I was cold, alone, and lost. Now I was—
Well, okay, I was still cold and alone, but at least now not quite so lost. I had a plan. The man in the room said to find the Swan. Maybe there I could find out my surname, my address, and how I got into this situation.
I was feeling brighter by the moment. Maybe I’d even get my memory restored. This time tomorrow, I could be with family and friends and whatever life I had before all this craziness began.
It only took me a few minutes to find the right address on West Forty-Ninth Street. It turned out to be an old art deco apartment building nestled between taller, more modern places. An assorted collection of small businesses operated out of the address. I saw signage in one window for a mortgage broker. Another window advertised shoe repairs.
My eyes shifted to the roof of the building. A shape was silhouetted against the night sky. For an instant, I thought it was a bird, but then I realized it was growing closer with every passing second. Before I could move, it slammed into the roof of the car parked behind me, sending glass and metal fragments in all directions as the car alarm exploded to life. A passing woman screamed. An elderly couple drew back in horror.
A man had just landed on the car. I stared openmouthed at him. This is the Swan. I was sure of it. This was the guy who had all the answers to my questions, and now he would forever keep them to himself.
One thing was for sure: this swan could not fly.
Looking back up at the building, I spotted a man leaning out of a window high above. He was peering down, not at the dead man on the car, but at me. Our eyes met.
Doctor Ravana’s face twisted into an expression of seething hatred.
Chapter Seven
A hand grabbed mine, and I turned to see a familiar face.
‘Brodie!’ I said, relieved that it was someone who didn’t want to kill me. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Looking for you.’
‘How—’
‘Now’s not the time.’ She glanced at the dead man on the car. ‘Looks like we’re too late to find Mister Swan.’
‘You know about him?’
She shook her head. ‘Later.’
We hurried away through a confusion of back alleys until we’d put some distance between Ravana and us. It couldn’t happen soon enough for me. We eventually ended up in an area surrounded by abandoned factories and high fences. Then it started to rain, softly at first, but then hard after a few minutes, leaving us drenched.
A distant roll of thunder reverberated around the buildings.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘I’ve got a place.’
‘Is it your home?’
‘I wish,’ she said.
There was that twang in her accent again. ‘You’re English?’ I said. ‘Right?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I think I’m Australian.’
‘You think you’re Australian—’
‘Later.’
Okay, I thought. Later.
She flashed me a smile, and for the first time, I noticed she was quite pretty. We headed down a darkened street as the rain eased to a fine mist.
‘Where is this place?’ I asked.
‘It’s close.’
‘What happened to your motorcycle?’
‘It ran out of fuel.’
‘And you didn’t fill up because…’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Because I have no money,’ she said. ‘And I didn’t feel like robbing a bank to get some.’
Okay. This seemed reasonable under the circumstances. Brodie ducked under a wire fence, and I followed across a trash-littered vacant lot. Reaching a double wooden door secured with a chain, she pulled up the bottom edge and created a gap for me to slide under.
Whatever the warehouse used to be was a long time ago. There were odd pieces of machinery all over the place that looked like sewing machines.
‘They used to make shoes here,’ Brodie explained.
‘And before that?’ I asked. The high ceilings were almost fifty feet above the floor. A crane and pulley system ran the whole length of the structure.
‘Who knows?’
The rain had started again. Harder now. Lightning flashed through the glass skylights in the ceiling, illuminating the dark recesses of the warehouse, but other corners remained in blackness. I didn’t want to imagine what lived there.
‘We’re safe,’ Brodie said. ‘At least for a while.’
‘How long have you been here?’
She shrugged. ‘About three days.’
‘You don’t have a home?’
Brodie shook her head and led me to a small office at the rear of the building. She lit a candle. Its flickering glow revealed a few piles of blankets, tins of food, some bottles of water, and a few books.
‘This is home,’ she said. ‘Ever since I…arrived.’
Arrived?
‘Um,’ I said. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I woke in an abandoned building on the other side of town,’ Brodie said. ‘I had no idea who I was or how I got there or where I came from. I thought I’d been in an accident and so I started looking for a police officer.’
‘Makes sense.’
‘I had only walked a few hundred feet when a van pulled up behind me. Some guys jumped out and tried to kidnap me.’
My blood went cold. I felt the desire to beat the guy’s brains out. Brodie must have seen the look on my face because she forced a laugh.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘They got more than they bargained for.’
‘What do—’
She threw a few punches into the air. She was fast. Incredibly fast. Unnaturally fast. I didn’t realize it when she faced Doctor Ravana back in the room. Now, she dropped down low and kicked into the air. Leaping to her feet, she snatched up a piece of timber and tossed it into the air. Her hand whipped out, struck the center of it, shattering it into matchsticks.
I picked up a broken fragment and examined it thoughtfully.
‘Remind me not to start any arguments,’ I said.
‘I only use my superpowers for good,’ she said.
‘Seriously,’ I said, thinking of her speed. ‘That’s not normal.’
Being fast was one thing, but she was so fast I doubted any martial arts expert could keep up with her. And she knew what she was doing too. It was like she was born throwing punches.
‘I think I’m about three times the speed of a regular person,’ she said. ‘Maybe faster.’
‘Do you know what style you’re fighting in?’
‘Style?’
‘Kung Fu, jujitsu…’
‘Oh, that.’ She waved the question away as she settled onto her makeshift bed. ‘Not a clue.’
‘So, you’ve got amnesia too.’
She nodded glumly. ‘I know my first name,’ she said. ‘But that’s about it. I have some ideas about favorite foods and movies. Places I’d like to visit. Not much else. Nothing about my past.’
‘How do you know your name?’ I asked. ‘How did you work that out?’
‘It’s on my clothing.’
Huh?
I checked the inside of the back of my jeans and—yes! The name Axel was stitched onto a small label. I told Brodie about my experiences: waking up in the room, the guy on the floor, and everything that had happened since I woke. She listened silently until I finished. Then shook her head.
‘Good thing I’ve been following those guys,’ she said. ‘Otherwise…’
She let the word hang in the air. I knew what she meant. Without her, I would never have escaped from Doctor Ravana. I owed her my life.
‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘Don’t mention it.’ She thought for a moment. ‘That book must be important. It mi
ght answer all our questions.’
‘We’ll retrieve it in the morning. I know where I left it.’
She nodded. ‘Let’s get some shut-eye.’
Brodie handed me blankets and a pillow. I didn’t expect to sleep, but by the time she blew out the candle, I could barely keep my eyes open. I nestled under the blankets and listened to the steady flow of rain. The wind rose and fell, banging a tune on a piece of loose metal.
Then Brodie was shaking me awake. I peered up into her heart-shaped face and didn’t recognize her.
Where am I?
‘Time to get moving,’ she said.
The events of the previous day came racing back. Unfortunately, that was all. My entire past life was still a mystery. Sitting up, I rubbed my neck. I had a cramp, and I felt cold.
Yep, time to move.
It was still early morning. Brodie handed me a light sweater. She’d said about not robbing banks, but the clothing looked like good quality, and I didn’t care if it were stolen. I was glad of it.
We headed back towards where I’d left the book. The rain had stopped, but the streets were still wet. We walked a couple of blocks. Then Brodie nudged me and pointed to an old Ferrari. She produced a wire coat hanger from her jacket.
My eyes darted up and down the street. ‘What are you doing?’ I asked, although I had a pretty good idea.
‘Getting us a ride,’ she said. Within seconds, she had the vehicle hotwired, and we were driving through the early morning city. I shook my head in amazement. Whatever Brodie was before she arrived here, she was no girl scout. Still, I wasn’t about to criticize her. Without her, we’d be walking twenty blocks. Now we were covering the same distance in a matter of minutes.
After a while, I told her to pull over. I wasn’t entirely sure as to exactly which alley I’d left the book. Leaving the car, we made our way down an alley and into a street where I recognized a few landmarks. A café. A diner. A used bookshop. This is the area.
Heading down another alley, my eyes analyzed the brickwork. Is this it? Making our way down to the end, I started to get worried. Maybe I’ve got the alleys mixed up. We started back the other way. Or maybe Ravana’s men have already found it.
Just then, I spotted a shadow near the ground. Easing the book out of the slot, I let out a sigh of relief. The rain hadn’t gotten to it; the book was undamaged.
I started leafing through the pages, but my excitement slowly turned to disbelief.
‘What is it?’ Brodie asked, watching my face. ‘What’s in it?’
‘That’s the problem,’ I said. ‘Nothing’s in it. All the pages are blank.’
Chapter Eight
We stared at each other in amazement. Brodie took the notebook from me and turned over the pages one at a time. She even held them up to the light to see if any words were etched onto the paper.
‘You’re sure this is important?’ she asked skeptically.
‘Absolutely. The man dragged it out of his pocket with his dying breath and forced it on me.’
‘Then it’s important. Let’s head back to the car.’
We returned to the vehicle and spent the next half an hour examining the book from front to back. At the same time, the streets grew busier. People strode past on their way to work. A street cleaning machine zoomed down the road. A café owner set out tables and chairs onto the sidewalk.
Brodie finally slid the book down between the seats. ‘This is a dead-end,’ she said. ‘At least for now.’
‘What do you suggest?’
She thought for a moment. ‘What about Cygnus Industries? We could go back to see what we can find.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘To see what we can find?’ I said. She’d seemed so sensible until now: not like a crazy person at all. ‘You mean, like bad guys with guns and psycho doctors? You might have superpowers, but—’
‘I don’t have superpowers—’ she began. ‘Well, technically I do, but that’s beside the point. Cygnus Industries is probably the safest place for us right now.’
‘How do you figure that?’
‘They’re probably turning the city upside down looking for us,’ Brodie explained. ‘Cygnus Industries is the last place they’d expect us to go.’
It made sense. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘But you’re Batman if the bad guys turn up.’
She smirked. ‘Okay, boy wonder.’
We drove across town to Cygnus Industries. Taking care to park some way down the block, we cautiously approached the address. The body and the damaged car were long gone, of course. All that remained was some broken glass on the road. We strolled past and into the main lobby. The place was older but clean and well maintained. We made straight for the elevators and got to the floor in one piece.
The door to Cygnus Industries had been broken open. Obviously, the guys who attacked our contact didn’t bother knocking. A zigzag of police tape was strung across the front. No sound came from within. We eased our way between the police tape and closed the door behind us.
‘Wow,’ said Brodie.
Wow, indeed. Imagine a fairly typical office with filing cabinets, desks, computers, and partitions. Now imagine it has been turned upside down and every file and piece of paper taken. Desks were upturned. Computers smashed. Even the water dispenser had been pulled off the wall.
We methodically searched every filing cabinet and desk for papers, but nothing had been left behind. A smaller room led off the primary office. It probably belonged to the manager because all it contained was a desk and a wardrobe. We searched the drawers of the desk, but they were empty too.
I tried plugging in one of the computers, but it gave me a blue screen.
‘Oh boy,’ I groaned. ‘This place has been stripped clean.’
‘Wait a minute,’ Brodie said. ‘Did you hear that?’
We froze. Listening hard, I heard the distant sound of the elevator, as if the doors were closing. Brodie and I exchanged glances. There were frighteningly few places to hide: the desk in the manager’s office could only fit half a body under it. Other than that, there was the wardrobe, so we scooted into it. The door slightly ajar, I peered out to see if anyone entered. At the same time, I couldn’t help but notice how close I was to Brodie. Her face was only a few inches away.
She whispered. ‘Keep your mind on the job.’
I averted my eyes. Good thing it was dark because I was turning red. The front door to the office creaked open. There was a shuffle of feet. Someone cleared their throat. I heard the drawer of a filing cabinet as it was eased open. Then more footsteps.
A figure came into view. It was a kid a couple of years younger than me. He was of Asian appearance. Maybe fourteen or fifteen, he had black hair and a round face. A bit overweight. He seemed to be doing precisely the same search we’d just completed.
I caught Brodie’s eye. The whole thing was bizarre. To make matters worse, it was only a matter of time before he opened the wardrobe to find—us!
A horrible thought went through my mind. It was terrible, but I couldn’t help it.
No! That’s awful! Don’t even think about it!
I imagined myself leaping out of the wardrobe and scaring the daylights out of the kid. A smile creased my lips.
Brodie glanced at me in the dim light, frowned, and I shook my head.
Don’t worry about it—I’m one of the good guys.
The kid froze. At first, I thought he’d heard us in the wardrobe. Then there was a yell, and he ran for the door. I heard a scuffle and spotted two men tackling him to the ground.
My stomach turned over as one punched the kid in the stomach, and he rolled up like an injured bug. They dragged him into the office and threw him on the manager’s desk. One held him down while the other one rounded the desk. He had his back to us. He was so close we could have reached out and tweaked his ear.
‘Now you’ll tell us everything you know about The Agency,’ the man began.
‘Please!’ the kid gasped. ‘I don’t know anything—’
‘You’ll speak or—’
That’s as far as he got. Brodie shoved the door open and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned in astonishment.
‘Surprise,’ she said.
Chapter Nine
Ten minutes later, we were on the sidewalk heading back to the car. There seemed to be only one word the kid was capable of saying, and he was saying it a lot.
‘Amazing,’ he shook his head. ‘Amazing.’
‘You’ll get used to it,’ I said. ‘Brodie’s like Bruce Lee. Only better. And faster. And—’
‘Amazing,’ he repeated.
‘All in a day’s work,’ Brodie said, flashing a smile. ‘Now, let’s start with introductions. What’s your name?’
His face fell. ‘I wish I could tell you, but—’
‘Amnesia?’ I asked.
‘How’d you know?’
‘It’s going around,’ I said. ‘But there’s a cure.’
‘There is?’
I checked the back of his jeans.
‘I christen you Dan,’ I said, glancing at the label. ‘A last name is extra. Now, tell us what you remember.’
It turned out his story was more similar to Brodie’s than mine. He’d awoken the previous day in an abandoned shop on the West side of Manhattan with no memory of his identity or his life. After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he found a piece of paper in his pocket. It was blank except for a letterhead.
Cygnus Industries.
He would have gone to the police, but there was something that stopped him. Dan pulled out a folding knife and showed it to us. The blade had blood on it.
‘You think you used it on someone?’ I said.
Dan shrugged. ‘I don’t know. It’s not my blood, so whose is it? Did I stab someone? Did I kill them?’ He stopped. ‘Anyway, I decided to lay low until I had some answers.’
‘I know you don’t remember anything much,’ Brodie said. ‘But you can obviously speak English. What about other languages?’
He frowned. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Say my name is Dan in Japanese,’ Brodie told him.
He shook his head. ‘I can’t.’