Teen Superheroes Box Set | Books 1-7

by Pitt, Darrell

  For the last few months, we’ve lived in an underground base in The Bronx. We’ve been back working with The Agency—the organization that gave us our powers. It’s far more open about its existence these days. The Bakari, the aliens who helped modify humans, are gone, but what they started has changed the world. Superheroes are everywhere. Most are created by The Agency, but there are just as many people and organizations modifying teenagers in secret labs.

  It’s a weird world.

  What hasn’t changed is our desire to discover our origins and real identities. It’s something we’ve thought about every day.

  Still, there’s an old saying: good things come to those who wait.

  We didn’t wait. We just got on with our lives. Maybe it was inevitable, though, that one day we would discover the truth.

  And none of what we learned was anything we expected…

  Chapter One

  I awoke slowly to a world of pain.

  This wasn’t unusual. Over the last year, I’d been knocked out and beaten into near unconsciousness a multitude of times. This time, what was unusual was waking up and having no idea how I ended up unconscious. Blearily opening my eyes, I saw metal bars and a concrete-floor. I was in a cell, and there were a dozen other cells—all empty—around me. There were no windows, and the place looked like some kind of underground bunker.

  I glanced up.

  Uh oh.

  Set into the ceiling above me were zeno emitters, the devices that sapped me of my powers. Using my powers, I could have forced the bars apart and freed myself within seconds. Without them, I was as defenseless as any other prisoner in a jail.

  A muffled groan came from behind. Sitting up, I saw a figure on the floor.

  ‘Chad?’ I said.

  ‘Axel?’ he said, peering about. ‘Please tell me I’m imagining this.’

  ‘You’re not imagining this.’

  ‘Can’t you lie?’

  ‘Only if it would help—and it won’t.’

  A corridor ran between the two rows of cells, but there was no sign of guards or anyone else for that matter. It looked like the only way out was via an elevator at the end of the room.

  ‘How did we end up here?’ Chad asked.

  I thought hard. We’d been in the middle of New York City, heading down the alley behind the building where The Agency Bronx offices were located. We’d gotten into the habit of using the back entrance rather than the front. People were used to seeing modified humans, but it didn’t mean they liked seeing them. There was a lot of bias against people with powers.

  Leaning against the bars, Chad pushed back his blonde hair. ‘I remember something,’ he said. ‘There was that old lady.’

  That old lady.

  Now the memories began to return. The old lady had been walking towards us when she stumbled. Chad and I had gone to help her. As she looked up at me, I remembered thinking how surprisingly youthful she appeared for someone elderly. Then there was a smell of acrid gas, and the whole world had weaved around me before turning dark.

  ‘That was no old lady,’ I said.

  ‘She was disguised.’

  I peered around again. ‘I wonder why we’ve been brought here.’

  ‘As opposed to…’

  ‘As opposed to killing us and tossing us in a river. It’s more efficient.’

  Chad sighed. ‘In that case,’ he said, ‘I’m glad our captors aren’t efficient. Nothing could be a worse ending for The Chad than to die efficiently.’ He reflected on this. ‘Actually, dying inefficiently is not what I’d like either. I’ve always longed to die in a far more boring way.’

  ‘Such as?’

  He shrugged. ‘Old age?’

  I gazed down the length of the room. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘I can’t promise anything. That elevator’s descending.’

  We watched as the numbers changed on the indicator over the elevator. We were probably several floors underground. If the zeno emitters were off, we could break out of here in seconds and use the elevator to escape.

  Why do villains always have underground lairs?

  They must teach them that at villain school: always have an underground lair.

  The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and two guards in black body armor appeared. Trailing behind them was a man in a grey suit. He looked very dapper, his hair was greying, and he had a slim build.

  Oh dear.

  ‘This is not good,’ I muttered.

  Chad sighed. ‘Got to agree with you there.’

  The men strode down the length of the room, stopping before our cell. The guards flanked the man in the middle as he studied us without smiling.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever been formally introduced,’ he said, placing much emphasis on the word formally. ‘But I know a great deal about you.’

  I tried to speak. ‘President—’

  He held up a finger to silence me. ‘You are Axel,’ he said, his eyes shifting. ‘And you are Chad. Here we all are together again. A perfect opportunity to relive the good times.’

  Good times?

  ‘President Kozlov,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry about what happened. Really sorry.’

  The last time we’d seen the Russian President was when I was forced to kidnap him to save Brodie’s life. In the end, Brodie had saved herself, but nothing was the same afterward. I’d been thrown into jail, broken out by my friends, and we’d ended up on the run. Finally, The Agency had caught up with us, offering a deal to re-join them and start again.

  Both The Agency and the American government had contacted the Russians to smooth things over. The Russians had agreed to forget the whole business and live and let live.

  Looks like they were lying.

  ‘I’m sure you’re sorry,’ the Russian President said. ‘But you never personally apologized to me.’

  ‘As I say, I’m—’

  ‘There I was,’ Kozlov continued, ‘driving in my car when you attacked my vehicle, terrorized my wife, and knocked me out.’

  ‘I never should have—’

  ‘Then you took me captive and kept me trussed up like an American turkey!’ his voice rose.

  I swallowed. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Really sorry.’

  Kozlov shook his head. ‘You’re not sorry,’ he said. ‘Not yet, but you will be.’

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ Chad said. ‘I wasn’t there when Axel broke your car and…er, terrorized your wife, but…I’m sure she’s adorable. I’ve seen pictures of her and…’

  His voice trailed off as the Russian President glared at him. ‘You will never mention my wife again!’ Kozlov said. ‘You are not fit to clean her shoes!’

  It wasn’t often that Chad looked stuck for words. ‘I’m sure her shoes are very nice,’ he said lamely.

  Kozlov only seemed to regain control with the greatest of efforts. ‘There will be no elaborate execution for either of you,’ he said. ‘There will be no grand scheme to use your blood or copy your DNA or examine you or any such thing.’

  Well, I thought. That’s good news.

  ‘You will simply be shot,’ Kozlov continued. ‘And your bodies dumped into a well. You will never be found.’

  And that’s the bad news.

  ‘Do you have any last words?’ the Russian President asked.

  ‘Please accept my apologies,’ I said. ‘I meant no harm to you, your wife, or your country. If you must blame someone, blame me, and release Chad. He’s done nothing wrong.’

  Kozlov turned to Chad. ‘And you?’

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ he said. ‘But it’s those Russian Dolls—the babushka dolls. I’ve never liked them. They’re downright creepy. Like something out of a horror story.’

  The president’s face reddened as he struggled for self-control. I turned to Chad in disbelief, but he only shrugged.

  ‘Axel,’ he said. ‘He’s going to kill us anyway. We might as well go down laughing.’

  Koslov finally lost it. ‘Shoot them!’ he screamed to the guards. ‘I want them dead!�
�

  A lot happened very quickly. The guard to the president’s left turned and shoved Koslov to the ground. As the other guard retaliated, the first guard swept his legs away before punching him into unconsciousness. He then grabbed the keys and unlocked the cell with Koslov looking on in amazement.

  ‘You!’ he shrieked, pointing at the guard. ‘You are a traitor!’

  The features of the guard shifted into those of a young Japanese girl. She had bright eyes and pretty lips. ‘You have to be Russian to be a traitor,’ Quinn said. ‘And I’m not Russian.’

  Opening the cell door, Chad stepped forward and kissed her hard. She eventually pushed him back. ‘Hey you,’ she said. ‘Not in front of company!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Chad apologized. ‘I thought you’d never get here.’

  ‘You were expecting me?’ Quinn said.

  We had met Quinn on one of our previous adventures. In the beginning, Chad hadn’t trusted her or her father, Mister Okada. Quinn was a shapeshifter and could transform herself to look like anyone. She’d been involved in a plot to capture us, but it was because her father was being held captive.

  Sadly, Mister Okada was eventually killed, and Quinn had left us to find herself. After traveling for some time, what she’d eventually found was The Agency—and us again. It was only a few weeks before romance blossomed between her and Chad.

  ‘I knew you’d save me,’ Chad said.

  I leaned over his shoulder. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘I thought I was about to die. Is there a plan to get out of here?’

  ‘The others are waiting in Liber8tor,’ Quinn said. ‘The ship’s cloaked and Ferdy’s flying loops around the compound. We just need to fight through a gazillion guards to make good our escape.’

  ‘Good,’ I said as we headed for the elevator. ‘That’s nothing we can’t handle.’

  ‘What about him?’ Quinn asked, thumbing towards the President, who was still watching the proceeding with amazement.

  I turned back to him. ‘Again,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. We’ll never bother you again.’

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ Chad said. ‘But if you keep making those dolls—’

  Pushing him into the elevator, I pressed the up button. ‘Chad,’ I said. ‘Will you ever learn?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘I’m The Chad.’

  Chapter Two

  Liber8tor soared across the clear blue sky towards New York.

  ‘…gotten really behind in Journey To Yabbada,’ Dan was saying. ‘And we’ve reached The Castle of Kalikos. That castle’s going down!’

  Ebony sighed. ‘There’s more to life than gaming.’

  ‘Really?’ Dan said. ‘Name something.’

  She and Dan were flying us out of Russian airspace. Glancing back from the pilot’s seats, Ebony shot me a small smile. ‘You’ve got me there,’ she admitted. ‘There is nothing other than gaming.’

  The rest of us were in the main cabin enjoying the view. I yawned. It was nice to have nothing to do for a change. Usually, a lot of our spare time was taken up with playing Journey To Yabbada, an epic online fantasy computer game. In the last few weeks, however, we’d been busy doing different things. There were now more than fifty teenagers at The Agency’s Bronx branch with plans in place to create a formal superhero training school. As well as our usual duties, we’d been lending a hand to train the new students.

  I leaned back in my seat and gazed sightlessly at the view. I’d been spending time with Brodie, Chad had been with Quinn, and Ebony had been hanging around with a girl named Sophie. Dan had been mostly abandoned to do his own thing, which meant lots of gaming while still working out how to fly Liber8tor.

  ‘What do you think, Ferdy?’ Dan asked. ‘Is there anything better than gaming?’

  Ferdy lived in Liber8tor’s computer system, although he could inhabit several computer systems in multiple locations simultaneously.

  ‘Friend Dan,’ Ferdy said. ‘Ferdy believes that gaming is the best use that anyone could ever have of their time.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No.’

  We burst out laughing at Dan’s outrage. ‘Ferdy,’ he said. ‘Is that a joke?’

  ‘It is, friend Dan.’

  ‘Well,’ Dan said, considering. ‘It’s not bad. Keep working at it.’

  The ship left Russian airspace, headed westwards across Europe, and then across the Atlantic. Within an hour, we were in sight of New York. Peering out the window, I looked down as Dan aimed us for The Bronx. Soon, we were zooming down the back alley behind The Agency building. A garage door opened up, and we flew into an underground basement. We parked among many other Flex fighters and flying vessels and made our way into the main building.

  There were several levels underground, but above ground, The Agency headquarters was situated in an old hotel called The Piccolo. The signage still hung from the building's side, but over the main entrance were the words The Agency. A message came over our wristcoms as we headed up in the elevator. The wristcoms were the latest iteration of communication devices that allowed us to access the internet and each other. The message was from Mister Brown:

  Please come to my office immediately.

  ‘Wonder what’s up,’ I said.

  ‘Could be another mission,’ Dan said.

  ‘Already?’ Brodie said. ‘Can’t someone else save the world for a change?’

  I reread the message. The words were harmless enough, but I still had an odd sensation when I looked at them. Immediately meant urgent. It also meant that something was wrong.

  My heart beat a little faster. I couldn’t help but feel that it was bad news. I’d never experienced precognition myself—plenty of other modified humans did—but I still had a sense that all was not right.

  ‘It won’t take long,’ I said. ‘Then we can focus on important things.’

  ‘Like Journey To Yabbada?’ Dan said.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Quinn wasn’t officially on our team. She belonged to another group known as T-Squad. Giving Chad another kiss, she said she’d see him later and exited the elevator. The doors slid shut again.

  ‘I’m never going to get used to that,’ Dan said.

  ‘That I’m such a drawcard for the ladies?’ Chad said.

  ‘No. That Quinn hasn’t caught some horrible disease from you. I would have expected her face to fall off by now.’

  Chad merely rolled his eyes. ‘There aren’t any diseases that make your face fall off,’ he said and frowned. ‘Are there?’

  We made our way to Mister Brown’s office. His receptionist was a man by the name of Mister Hillcliff.

  ‘Go right in,’ he said. ‘He’s expecting you.’

  We strode into Mister Brown’s office to find him tapping away on his computer. He’d been my first training instructor when we’d joined The Agency. It was odd seeing him in an office job, but a lot had changed in a short time. He was even wearing a pair of glasses. They looked small and fragile on someone who was built like an army sergeant.

  ‘Hi gang,’ he said. ‘Thanks for coming so promptly.’

  ‘The word immediately sort of gets our attention,’ Chad said.

  ‘Don’t bother taking seats. You need to take a look at something downstairs.’

  ‘Something good?’ Brodie asked.

  ‘Not really,’ he said, standing. ‘I could try explaining, but it’s best if you see for yourselves.’

  We followed him down in the elevator to one of the lower levels. Scientists worked on a variety of projects in different rooms as we passed. There had been a lot of talk about a new technology called jumpspace. It had something to do with interplanetary travel, but we knew nothing apart from that.

  Exiting the elevator, we headed into a section we’d never seen before. The sign on the door at the end of the corridor brought us to a halt.

  ‘The Morgue?’ Ebony said. ‘Like…where dead people are located?’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Mister Brown said. ‘We’re not a city authori
ty, but some bodies are brought here when there are suspicious circumstances.’

  ‘Like what?’ I asked, more mystified than ever.

  ‘Usually when the person has been identified as possibly being a modified human or as alien. Either way, the authorities want to make certain that they’re safe to bury. We don’t want to bury someone who’s actually alive or can contaminate the environment.’

  ‘Actually alive?’ Dan said. ‘You mean they’d come back from the dead?’ His eyes shone. ‘A man known only as Zombie Hero! Fighting evil from beyond the grave!’

  Dan was always trying to create cool superhero names, but none ever stuck.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘That’s got quite a ring to it.’

  Mister Brown lingered for a moment longer. ‘There’s a deceased person in here,’ he said. ‘And his appearance will come as a shock.’

  Nodding silently, we entered the room. Doctor Kennedy, the woman who administered our regular check-ups, was reading a report on her computer. She was tall with black hair and a kind smile. Behind her was a morgue refrigerator designed to hold eight bodies. I glanced sideways at the others. They looked fine except for Dan, who’d turned pale. We’d seen a lot of deceased people over the last year, but it was never pleasant.

  ‘We’d like to take a look at the person who came in this morning,’ Mister Brown told the doctor.

  Nodding, she checked a folder for the right refrigerated drawer and crossed to the unit. Unlatching the door, she glanced back at us.

  ‘This will come as a shock,’ she said. ‘Especially for you, Axel.’

  Especially for me? I wondered. Why me?

  She half slid the drawer open, revealing a body under a sheet. We grouped around to look more closely as she drew the sheet back from the dead person’s face.

  ‘That’s not possible,’ I said.

  The dead person looked exactly like me.

  Chapter Three

  This makes no sense.

  It was one of those times when you stare at something, and you can’t quite make sense of what you’re looking at. His face was the same. His hair was the same color. The shape of his body, even under the sheet, looked the same as me.