Teen Superheroes Box Set | Books 1-7

by Pitt, Darrell

  He simply shook his head. I pushed my head against the wall. How had things gone so wrong? Not only had we all been captured but destroying the computer had done nothing to stop the launch of the rocket—and New York was the target. The same streets we had walked a few days before were about to be reduced to rubble and molten metal.

  And the people—

  ‘But I do have a plan,’ Brodie said.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked.

  ‘You seem to have forgotten,’ Brodie said. ‘I’m a whiz with locks.’ She slipped off her boots with her toes and pulled out a long piece of metal. Within seconds, she had it gripped between her toes and had swung her feet up to insert the metal into my cuffs.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ I said.

  ‘Do you want to be free or not?’

  In less than a minute, I heard a satisfying click, and the cuff came loose. I started working on Brodie’s handcuffs, but even with her detailed instructions, it still took about ten minutes. She had the others free in seconds.

  ‘Where did you learn that?’ Chad asked.

  ‘All part of my previous life,’ Brodie said. ‘Whatever that was.’

  ‘There’s just one problem,’ I told them.

  We turned to the bars of the cell. They were only metal covered by a wire mesh, but without our powers, they may as well have been solid concrete.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ‘You’re right,’ Chad said. ‘That is a problem.’

  The zeno emitters were suspended from the opposite walls like spotlights. Our powers would return to normal if we were out of their range, but they were aimed right at us. I glared at the devices. It was only a couple of feet, but it might as well have been miles.

  Frowning, Chad glanced down at Dan. ‘You’re small.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I think.’

  ‘No, I mean, you might be able to fit your arm through the wire.’

  Dan examined the gaps between the metal mesh. They were very small. ‘And then what?’ he asked.

  I could see what Chad was getting at. ‘Reach as far as you can through the mesh,’ I said. ‘You might be able to get your powers to activate in your arm.’

  ‘In my arm?’ Dan looked at us like we’d grown extra heads. ‘So, I’ll have a super-arm. Are you kidding?’

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘You’ll be…Arm Boy.’

  Dan groaned.

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ Brodie urged. ‘Come on. Stick your arm through.’

  He wrestled his hand through the gap, pushing his arm through as far as it would go.

  ‘It won’t go any further,’ he said.

  ‘Try breaking the wire,’ I suggested.

  ‘With what? I don’t have any pliers.’

  ‘With your mind, of course!’

  ‘Don’t yell at me!’

  ‘I’m not yelling,’ I said, lowering my voice. ‘Just push your arm out further.’

  He reached out further.

  ‘Now try to bend the mesh,’ Chad said.

  ‘I am trying. Nothing’s happening.’

  ‘Try harder.’

  ‘I am. My arm is stuck.’

  ‘You need to push out further—’ I started.

  ‘Angle to the left—’ Chad urged.

  ‘I can’t reach it!’ Dan was almost in tears. ‘My arm won’t reach far enough.’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Brodie holds up the lock pick. ‘Try holding on to this.’

  ‘Why?’ Dan asked. ‘For good luck?’

  ‘No! You might be able to use it as an antenna.’

  ‘So now I’m a human antenna!’ Dan groaned, but grabbed the metal from her and pushed his arm back through the wire.

  ‘Further,’ Chad urged.

  ‘Shut up,’ he grunted.

  ‘Just a bit further!’

  ‘Shut up!’

  He pushed his arm through the gap with all his might. There were scratches all the way along his arm where it had rubbed against the wire. He was bleeding. Tears of frustration filled his eyes as the piece of metal dangled precariously from the end of his fingertips.

  A sound came from the wall. One of the emitters on the wall was moving. Shaking.

  ‘It’s working,’ I said quietly. ‘Keep going!’

  Dan stared at it. The emitter continued to jiggle as if a tremor were shaking the room. Perspiration broke out on Dan’s forehead as his eyes focused on the emitter. A line of sweat ran down his temple as tears trickled across his cheeks. Wobbling from side to side, the emitter finally gave a high-pitched squeal of rending metal before breaking free from the wall.

  It clattered to the floor.

  The sound caused the door to fly open. A guard raced in and raised his gun to fire. At the same moment, Dan pulled back his arm, and the door to our cell flew off and slammed into the guard, knocking him unconscious. We tumbled out of the room into the hallway outside.

  ‘Well done,’ I said, clapping Dan on the shoulder.

  ‘Yeah,’ Chad said grudgingly. ‘Pretty good for a kid.’

  ‘For a—’

  Chad ruffled his hair. ‘Stay cool, shorty.’

  Racing down the hallway, we soon reached another room. We exchanged glances before Chad shoved the door open. The scene beyond was like a picture frozen in time. Ebony was chained to a table with Ravana sitting across from her. He was motionless. Completely, utterly motionless. The skin showing through his bandages was white—ivory white.

  ‘I…’ Ebony struggled to speak, her face filled with shock. ‘I turned him to zinc.’ She wasn’t wearing one of her shoes. ‘I touched him with my foot. He…he was going to hurt me again.’

  Chad embraced her as we freed her from the table. ‘It’s okay, sis,’ he said. ‘You did what you had to do.’

  My eyes settled on the probe lying on the ground. Chad was right. Ebony did what was necessary. We hurried from the building. An evacuation was taking place. With the missile ready for firing, Wolff and his men were withdrawing from the island.

  ‘We need to stop that weapon,’ I said.

  A squad of guards came racing around a corner.

  ‘We also need to dish out some payback,’ Chad replied grimly. Releasing Ebony, he pointed at the guards with both hands. Balls of fire barreled towards them, driving them back. Chad turned to us. ‘Find the missile. I’ll keep them busy.’

  We headed through the camp. Soldiers started shooting at us, but I flung them aside. I remembered a narrow path I noticed earlier. We raced down it, finally reaching a clearing containing a concrete bunker. A figure broke from the jungle and raced towards the shelter.

  General Wolff.

  ‘Stop!’ I yelled.

  We raced towards the bunker as he disappeared inside. The building was made from reinforced concrete. I struggled to break through but couldn’t muster up the energy.

  ‘Dan,’ I said. ‘I need your help.’

  Together, we focused on the metal entry door. Slowly it started to bend outwards from its hinges.

  ‘It must be made of iridium,’ Ebony said. ‘It’s one of the strongest metals known to man.’

  The door ripped free from its housing. I expected a hail of bullets, but instead, General Wolff stepped confidently from the bunker. He looked horrifyingly pleased with himself.

  ‘You children are most resourceful,’ he said. ‘But you are too late.’

  The ground shuddered. I turned to see the missile rise from the jungle behind us and rocket into the sky.

  ‘The missile is on its way,’ Solomon Wolff said. ‘Nothing can stop it now.’

  Chapter Thirty–Three

  I turned to the others. ‘I’ve got to try.’

  ‘We’ll look after him,’ Brodie said, following up with a punch to the mercenary’s jaw and sending him unconscious to the ground.

  Then I was flying into the air. The missile was already high above the island and moving away with every second. I glanced back down at Cayo Placetas and saw the others grouped around Wolff’s body. This
could be the last time I saw them.

  I’m going to bring down Pegasus or die trying.

  The missile continued straight up into the sky with me chasing it. The air grew colder, and I had to remind myself that air was my friend. Mister Brown had trained me on how to increase my speed. I flattened, becoming as streamlined a shape as possible. I’d need everything I had to catch Pegasus.

  Up ahead of me, the tiny body of the missile moved against the indigo blue sky. Pegasus was long and thin with vents to allow the intake of air. Like any jet engine, it compressed the air and ignited it as propulsion: a controlled explosion that drove it forward on a column of thrust.

  Pegasus continued to rise, but its rate of ascent slowly became an arc. It was aiming towards its target now: New York City. I cut across its arc, but it abruptly put on an extra burst of speed and changed direction.

  Okay, I thought. You saw me coming.

  The sky before me exploded. For an instant—one shocking second—I thought Pegasus has detonated in midflight. I shielded my eyes. Then I realized the explosion came from elsewhere. A fighter plane appeared in my peripheral vision. It had fired on the missile. Its rocket had come close, but the missile has nimbly changed course to avoid it.

  The jet aircraft fired again. This time I watched its rocket streak through the sky. It exploded some distance in front of Pegasus. Pegasus jerked about crazily and free from danger.

  What was that?

  It took a few seconds for me to understand what I’d seen. Fighter craft often released chaff as a decoy to mislead attacking fire. That’s what Pegasus had done. As a decoy, it’s fired off a round of chaff to destroy the attacking rocket.

  At the same time, a dark dot arced back across the sky towards the fighter plane. No. It can’t be. The tiny speck of black, no more than a full stop embedded in the blue sky, flew unerringly towards the fighter jet.

  The jet exploded into a fiery ball of flame.

  I swallowed hard. Pegasus was more than a missile. It was a fully equipped battle system. Not only could it avoid incoming attacks, but it could fight back as well. It might have been nice of Twelve to mention this.

  The missile changed direction again.

  I glanced down. We were far above the ocean, still some distance from land, but the missile was charging relentlessly towards Florida. It could either curve inland or follow the long coast towards New York. At almost three times the speed of sound, it would take less than an hour to reach its target. I had to speed up if I stood any chance of catching up with Pegasus.

  Can I move that fast?

  The fastest I’d traveled in training was little more than twice the speed of sound, and that was simply in a straight line. A memory came back to me from Mister Brown. He spoke about how I might be able to increase my speed if I could create a vacuum directly ahead of me. Such an action was impossible for a typical fighter jet—they needed air to function —but it was theoretically possible for me because of my ability to control air.

  Theoretically possible.

  It’s not much, I thought. But it’s all I’ve got.

  I poured on more speed. At the same time, I focused on dispersing the air directly before my flight path. After a few seconds, I realize Pegasus was closer—or I was closer to it. How long do I have? We’d been in the air for almost half an hour. The wind was tearing past me, and it was increasingly harder to breathe. I wasn’t too sure how long I could keep going, but at least now I was making some headway. The missile was now less than a mile away.

  Something caught my eye. Three somethings. I glanced over my shoulder to see three fighter craft. They fired rockets, and these arced across the sky towards Pegasus. Once again, tiny dots left the rear of Pegasus at the last moment.

  The rockets exploded in midflight.

  Simultaneously, Pegasus fired three rockets, and these headed towards the fighter craft. They took evasive maneuvers, rolling and somersaulting through the sky. One of them was struck almost immediately. The second fighter executed a quick roll and fired two more shots at the missile before bursting into flames. It left a long, blackened stain upon the sky as it fell towards the ground.

  Now there was only me and a single fighter craft remaining. A section of the coast came into view: the distinctive shape of Chesapeake Bay. New York was only minutes away. Time was running out. I desperately poured on more speed, but the missile seemed to be capable of going even faster. It jerked suddenly in the sky, and another rocket exploded, but Pegasus still remained aloft. It was now only seconds before the missile detonated.

  Something exploded near me, and the blast threw me off course.

  No!

  I veered out of control for a few seconds, cartwheeling through the sky like a firework. Where is Pegasus? I spotted a tiny silver streak in the sky. It was reducing altitude. It’s preparing to detonate. I aimed towards it, pouring on as much speed as I could muster. The shockwave from the blast had slowed me, and now I had to make up for lost time.

  There was the Garden State Parkway. Eventually, it met the New Jersey Turnpike. New York was only moments away. I either stopped the missile now, or I never would. Straining with everything I had, I gave a final burst of speed as the last fighter craft fired three more rockets at the missile.

  They exploded harmlessly in midair. The jet fighter poured on speed. I could see what he intended to do. If he couldn’t shoot the missile down, he intended to set a collision course with it. He understood the stakes as well as I did.

  Even then, I doubted he’d succeed. The designers of Pegasus took into account the capabilities of the most incredible fighter craft in the world. They knew exactly what to expect. Of course, they didn’t know about me. They didn’t know that one day a teenage boy would be turned into a superweapon.

  A superhero. This idea lingered in my mind. The designers would not have known that a kid could be turned into a superhero. What did they not take into account? It came to me in a flash—and I knew what I had to do.

  Pegasus was just like any other jet engine. It required an intake of air to propel it forward. Come on. This is my last chance. If this doesn’t work, millions of people will die. Instead of projecting a vacuum ahead of myself, I projected it around the body of Pegasus. The effect was almost instantaneous. The missile stuttered in midflight. It slowed. Tilted.

  I was right. Its jet engines couldn’t operate without air. Something whizzed past me at incredible speed. The fighter pilot had realized something was wrong with the missile and fired off a last shot in the hope it might impact.

  A bright flash erupted before me. I closed my eyes, expecting the worse. Has the warhead exploded? Has the city dissolved in molten destruction? Have a million people lost their lives in a hellfire of nuclear energy?

  I slowly opened my eyes.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ‘Excellent,’ Twelve said, shaking my hand. ‘Congratulations on a job well done.’

  I thanked him, realizing it was the first time I’d actually touched an alien. He felt surprisingly human. Twelve gave me a final nod before moving on to shake hands with an equally surprised looking Dan.

  Our team was at a party with The Agency staff. People were really letting their hair down and relaxing. I’d decided to relax too, particularly as I couldn’t remember celebrating any other party. I couldn’t remember birthdays or Christmases or christenings or anything else, so I intended to make the most of this one.

  Three days had passed since the destruction of Pegasus. Our role in destroying the rocket was still a secret to most of the staff at The Agency. There were a hundred projects taking place here at any one time, and our effort to save New York City just happened to be one of them. The attack was also a secret as far as the American people were concerned. The Agency had a policy of keeping things quiet.

  Brodie sidled up to me. ‘Looks like we’re suddenly Twelve’s best friends.’

  ‘I think whoever gets the job done is his best friend,’ I said. ‘Anyway, the operatio
n wasn’t a complete success.’

  I suppose I was hard on myself. Typhoid wasn’t finished, but Mister Jones informed us the organization had been dealt a severe blow. Maybe the biggest disappointment was that Solomon Wolff had escaped. I would have liked to have seen the terrorist leader languishing in a cell, considering everything he wanted to put us through. Where he would turn up next was anyone’s guess.

  Still…

  ‘Stop brooding,’ Brodie nudged me. ‘You saved New York City from certain destruction.’

  ‘Me and another guy, a fighter pilot I never got to thank.’

  She pressed my arm. ‘The world is made up of nameless heroes.’

  Doctor Sokolov sidled up to me.

  I gave her a smile. ‘Come to join the party?’

  She returned the smile, but it was strained.

  I wonder what’s wrong.

  ‘I thought I’d add my congratulations to the all-conquering heroes,’ Doctor Sokolov said. Her eyes shifted to Brodie and across to Twelve before taking my arm. ‘Have you tried the canapés?’

  The doctor gently led me over to the table. I fired a glance at Brodie, not knowing if she were worried or just plain jealous. It was sometimes hard to tell with Brodie. The doctor gave me a paper plate. On it sat a cream cheese cracker.

  ‘These are very good,’ she said, her eyes boring into mine. ‘But you must be careful not to eat them too quickly.’

  She smiled and glanced over my shoulder. ‘Harry!’ she said, smiling. ‘I didn’t expect you here!’

  Disappearing into the crowd, I was left standing there with the paper plate and the single savory. Brodie sidled over.

  ‘What was that all about?’

  I shrugged. ‘Oh, nothing,’ I said. ‘The doctor’s a foodie. That’s all.’

  I hated lying. If there were anyone I’d come to trust, it was Brodie. I would—and already had—entrusted my life to her a dozen times over. Still, I was told something a lifetime ago that had kept me alive this long.

  Trust no one.

  I made some more small talk before gently extricating myself from the party and into the gentleman’s bathroom. Taking refuge in one of the cubicles, I pulled the savory from my pocket. Under the cream cheese was a folded piece of paper.