Super Nobody (Alphas and Omegas Book 1) (36 page)

“
We would not want
that.”

“
And whatever you do,
please don’t electrocute us again,” Matt said.

There would be no
tears. Michael felt himself grown red, felt the anger course
through him, and the helplessness. He found himself looking at
Brian Yamagatsu, one of the other students who hadn’t been in
Lincolnshire when Michael had ‘saved the day’. But Brian only
stared him straight in the eyes, his almond-shaped ones to
Michael’s, and said nothing.

“
What’s going on
here?”

The eight of them
looked up to the new speaker. He had a massive hooked nose, which
looked to have been broken at least once, and greasy black hair cut
into a bowl shape. The rest, behind his ears, was buzzed close.
Trent Millickie, extortionist, bully, grudge holder, would-be
killer, bad boy, and Active. Two years ahead of Michael. The last
time they’d spoken, Trent had tried to fry him with a bolt of
lightning.

They all shut
up.

“
Michael,” Trent said.
Without a hint of emotion.

“
Trent?” He’d spent the
entirety of his camp experience well away from Trent
Millickie.

“
These guys bothering
you?” Little fingers of lighting crackled outward from his body,
zipping around and leaving little char marks on the table, the
floor, the ceiling, the benches.

What the heck was going
on here?

“
Uh…no.”

Trent nodded and turned
to leave. Over one shoulder he said, “Hope it stays that
way.”

Michael looked around
the table just as the others were doing (except Brian, he just kept
staring at Michael's forehead like it was about to sprout a
vegetable garden) trying to figure out if anyone else had been as
confused as he. The way Jason and Dorf and Matt looked, you'd swear
that they thought they'd just dodged a bullet. Trent had that kind
of reputation.

Michael hadn't earned
some sort of free ticket to the super squad for putting the bad guy
on the run this past February. He wasn't going to be the Batman of
the Justice League, that was for sure. Trent Millickie hated him.
Used to hate him. What the devil?

Michael didn't have an
answer to that little conundrum, but didn't have much time to
figure anything out either. Young super-powered persons started
pouring into the lodge by the droves. There ended up being maybe
fifty in all, almost half the number of Actives in the entire town.
They had their own strange cliques, Michael saw. The rest of the
eighth graders weren't in yet, they hadn't been allowed near the
high school crowd.

The best part were the
adult Actives. These were the city guardians, the teachers, the
counselors, basically they did everything. They were here too, from
Bob the man who couldn’t die to a bunch Michael had never seen
before. One he'd seen for a split second, when she teleported
another of the teachers out of danger last year, and Mrs.
Montgomery had healed up his injuries when they were nearly fatal,
just after he almost levitated everyone in the gym to their deaths.
There also was Terrence Jackson, stinky jerkface.

He was probably always
reading Michael's mind, because he turned and stared Michael in the
eyes. Michael quickly looked away and shivered.

He wasn't going to make
the mistake of getting anywhere near Jackson's mean side again. He
could still remember writhing on the floor as his brain threatened
over and over again to explode all over the place. In fact, he
might as well just shun Jackson entirely.

A brush on his shirt,
and he turned just in time to see Charlotte heading to the female
side of the huge lodge. She turned and winked at
him.

Wally and Avery and the
rest of his table carried on a load of uninteresting banter.
Michael tried to watch Charlotte, but failed.

“
So, how's it feel to
be the only one in twenty miles without a super thingy?” Dorf asked
him, as they were well into the turkey and gravy sandwiches. Bits
of food sprayed the dishes as he talked.

Avery answered for him.
“How do you think it is, it's like being the only seal in the ocean
with a hundred sharks around ya.”

“
Yeah, all of you are
so big. Lot of good it did you against Lansing,” Michael
mumbled.

“
What was
that?”

“
Speak up
Mumbles.”

“
I believe he just
emasculated the lot of you,” Brian Yamagatsu said, continuing that
disconcerting stare.

“
That right? You
choppin' our jewels off, Washington?” Matt asked. The room around
him began to darken. Bits of Dorf were wriggling around under his
skin, like snakes were suddenly about to pop out of his arms and
neck. Jason disappeared entirely, with something in his place that
was basically a silhouette of bluish energy. Wally looked a little
bigger, if that were possible, but Brian just continued staring at
him.

“
Is there a problem
here, gentlemen?” Terrence Jackson was just about brushing
Michael's elbow, his unsettling scrutiny sweeping over the rest of
his table.

They quickly averted
their eyes and mumbled their negatives, as though his mind powers
wouldn't work on them if they didn't meet his eyes. Several of them
shot venomous glances at Michael. Eventually Terrence drifted
away.

“
I feel all…like,
invaded.”

“
Violated,” Avery
corrected.

“
He didn’t do anything
to you,” Michael mumbled.

“
Eh? And how’d you know
that?” Dorf demanded.

Yeah Michael, part of
him said. How do you know what it feels like to have someone
crawling over your brain, doing their psychic thing, rearranging
your personality, turning you into a donkey or something? There was
no good way to describe how your brain felt while you were crawling
around on the floor, itching at your scalp and trying to pull your
cerebral cortex out of your ears.

Dorf was still staring
at Michael when a glob of mashed potatoes hit him in the side of
the head.

“
Wha-” was all anybody
at his table was able to say before the wave of mayhem washed over
them too. Food was flying everywhere. A shadow floated overhead,
and Michael looked up just in time to see an entire pitcher's worth
of Kool-aid dropping on him.

Everywhere was food. A
vat of mashed potatoes came zipping out of the kitchens and stopped
to show the astonished face of a speedster holding a big plastic
tray. The mashed potatoes continued in their forward momentum
though, all over Terrance Jackson. Gravy slapped Wally in the
shoulder and head, and he forgot all about Michael in a second. The
rest of them leaped away to join the fray. Danny Silverstein was
flying overhead, flinging cornbread down on everybody like a
B-52.

Brian continued to
stare at Michael. Children were howling with glee, pelting each
other with ice cubes and green beans, and Avery was squeezing
ketchup into Brian's hair. Brian never moved.

Michael was completely
creeped out. Creeped out, until Charlotte showed up and put a
banana cream pie on top of his head.

“
I thought you needed a
new hat,” she said, laughing.

“
Did you do this?” he
asked, and sampled some of the whipped cream. An entire cake flew
right past his nose and crashed into Avery, who collapsed in gales
of laughter, hugging the cake. She'd done this just for
him.

“
I wouldn't know what
you're talking about at all,” Charlotte said. “Here, try some
chocolate sauce. It's fresh out of the kitchen fridge.” She pulled
back the neck of his shirt and squeezed some
inside.

He shrieked laughter as
the cold sauce crept down his spine, then remembered and looked
back to where Brian was sitting.

Brian had
vanished.

***

Following the fiasco,
all the campers were told they would be washing up. Then the worst
offenders would have to watch while the rest of them cleaned up the
mess hall. Hey, you call it a mess hall, it has to become a mess at
some point.

While they were
cleaning, Michael saw Charlotte standing up on stage, watching
everyone down on their hands and knees, throwing pieces of apple
pie and mashed potatoes into enormous plastic garbage cans. Other
squads were following behind them, dousing the whole shebang in
soapy water.

Michael tipped her a
wink.

Her face might have
been carefully neutral, but just enough smile was there. He knew
it, and so did she. They might be enslaved now, but the food fight
had been the most liberating half hour of their lives. Even the
grownups didn’t look all that upset. Matt mentioned that he saw
Springfield and Mrs. Madison throwing just as much food as any of
the kids.

Only Terrence Jackson
was storming around shouting orders to scrub and mop this or that,
and he lost steam pretty quickly.