Read Super Powereds: Year 2 Online

Authors: Drew Hayes

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Coming of Age

Super Powereds: Year 2 (5 page)

BOOK: Super Powereds: Year 2
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“Yeah, don’t you know? Once you graduate you have to intern under an existing Hero for two years before you can work on your own. It gives real world experience,” Alice hurriedly whispered back.

“That is, of course, a long way down the road and will only concern a fraction of you,” Dean Blaine continued. “There is something else relevant to this year, however. Last year we focused on learning to fight one on one, which is a core concept for any Hero. However, one of the great advantages we have over criminals is our ability to work together in a trusted and cohesive unit. For that purpose, tomorrow you will be split up into teams. Aside from your performance in your classes, there will be several team-based challenges throughout the school year. Your performance in these will, of course, affect whether or not you join us for the junior year curriculum. The details for that will be covered at the commencement of tomorrow’s gym period along with the team selection, so for now I will defer to your professors so that they might introduce themselves.”

Dean Blaine stepped back, opening up the floor to whoever wanted to come forward. The first one to take the step was the most unassuming. She was an older woman, clearly in her sixties or seventies from the wispy grey hair and mild hunch in her spine. Already diminutive, the curve in her figure made her border on tiny. Her voice betrayed none of the frailty of her form, speaking loud and firm with the confidence only a wealth of experience could provide.

“It is a pleasure to meet you all. My name is Esme Stone, though it will be Professor Stone to you lot. I teach the subject of Focus, and those of you who enter my class will emerge with a new level of understanding regarding the inner workings of the self.”

She stepped back into line, allowing the next speaker to come forward. He was a tall man with a broad chest and jet black hair, only his temples showed his age with a few patches of white.

“My name is Professor Hill,” he barked in a loud, determined-to-be-commanding voice. “I teach the subject of Control. The privileged few who gain access to my class will be taught to command external forces on greater levels than they ever thought possible.”

The next figure to step forward was easily the most distinctive. It was covered with cloth strips on every possible exposed part of its skin, making it look like a mummy wearing clothes and a large cloak. A sizable sword hilt protruded from over its shoulder, and it walked like a snake just begging for a reason to strike. It shocked many of the students to hear a female voice emerge from the wrapped face unmuffled. It was high-pitched and delicate, but not delicate in the sense of fine china or hand-crafted porcelain. It was delicate like an unstable explosive.

“My name is Professor Cole. I teach the course on Weapons. Those of you unfortunate enough to get me will be beaten, cut, burned, sliced, skewered, and snapped. You will get strong, and those who make it to the end might even emerge as warriors.”

The next figure stepped forward quickly, a pretty woman in her mid-forties with hair somewhere between brown and red, as if it wasn’t quite able to make up its mind.

“My name is Professor Baker, and I’ll be teaching some of you Ranged Combat. I feel like my course’s name pretty much explains it all.”

She stepped immediately back in line, leaving only two figures remaining. They exchanged glances briefly, and the taller of the two took a bounding step forward.

“My name is Sean Pendleton,” said the man, his dark hair hanging forward, slightly dangling into his eyes. “Though I suppose from now on it is Professor Pendleton. I’ve been brought here to teach you in the art of Subtlety. Much like any other art, all I can really do is help develop what already exists. Some of you have the touch, while others don’t. I look forward to seeing what you can do.” Professor Pendleton gave a grand bow before retreating to the line, leaving only one figure remaining.

He took his step forward and gazed out at the students. He was an older man, probably only younger than Professor Stone. His powerful frame was largely concealed under his gaudy Hawaiian shirt, but he carried himself in a way that made it evident he was not a man to be taken lightly.

“My name is Professor Fletcher, and in addition to teaching Close Combat, I’ll also be running the gym sessions and overseeing the team events. For the slower of you that means that yes, I am new here and was brought in to replace George. Now, this leads me to the unfortunate disadvantage I suffer meeting you in your second year. Normally, I would have trained you all up and seen your fighting prowess on a finite level. That would let me gauge what to expect from many of you in the year to come, as well as earning your respect by demonstrating my skill as a fighter. Since I missed that opportunity, I’m afraid my most practical remaining option is simply to test you all with my own fists and get a sense of your strength from that.”

The rest of the professors and the dean began backing away from Professor Fletcher. He cracked his knuckles lightly and gave the class an oddly reassuring smile.

“Anyone who needs to shift, do so now. In ten seconds I intend to fight you all at once.”

 

5.

“You’re sure you want to start things off like this?” Professor Cole asked; Professor Fletcher still hadn’t pieced together how she spoke so clearly through all that cloth.

For his part, Carl Fletcher nodded his head and took a sip of his tea. The dean’s meeting would end soon and the students would be filing into the gym. Right now the professors were all dwelling in the break room, discussing plans for their first introduction.

“I’m sure,” he said. “I don’t agree with a lot of George’s old methods, but he and I do see eye to eye on a few points. Having faith and respect in the people trusting you is definitely one of them.”

“Perhaps, but given the atmosphere and recent events I’m not certain showing the class that not even all twenty-eight of them at once can beat you instills the sense of security you think it does,” Esme said, sipping her own mug filled with strong black coffee.

“It’s not ideal,” Carl conceded. “But if we’re talking ideal I wouldn’t be here and George wouldn’t be a turncoat. We can’t afford to treat them with kid gloves because of his and Persephone’s mistake. The students still have to learn, and to do that effectively they need to believe we have something to teach them.”

“Which begs the question, why are you the one squaring off with them?” Blake Hill asked, his tone respectful and his eyes suspicious.

“Three reasons,” Carl replied. “First, I’m the Close Combat class teacher, so it makes sense that I’m the one to fight them. Second, I’ve got a lot of experience in bringing down Supers without doing lasting damage. And finally, because I’m the new guy. If I can beat them all so easily, they’ll think you more experienced folks can kill them with a thought.”

“A great idea,” Professor Pendleton contributed, “with one caveat. We’re talking about twenty-eight kids with pretty exceptional skills. Are you sure you can beat them?”

Carl gave an easy smile and finished the rest of his tea.

* * *

If last year had taught the students nothing else, it was to take seriously a threat of violence from one of their teachers. Professor Fletcher had scarcely finished speaking before Stella had adopted a more chromeish veneer and Hershel had gulped down the contents of his pocket flask. Others in the class took fighting poses, or brought themselves up to full alertness before Professor Fletcher took his first step. Not that it helped much.

Most of the students only saw the man in the brightly colored shirt vanish before their eyes. A select few were still conscious to see him reappear on the other side of the crowd, or rather on the other side of the sea of collapsed bodies. They were also privy to the light show that streaked the air, wild currents of electricity hanging about like floating tinsel, searing the eyes for a moment then fading away into oblivion. Of the seven still standing, only Chad and Sasha had been able to see everything that happened.

“Not bad,” Professor Fletcher said. “I expected to get more of you with that.”

“E-Electricity,” Sasha panted. Most of the others had remained standing due to their natural resistances. She and Gilbert, on the other hand, had actually dodged his attacks, a task which had tasked her speed and reflexes to the limit. “You turned into electricity.”

“Quite,” Professor Fletcher confirmed. “You see, of the known Supers in the world, approximately seven percent fall into an elemental manipulation category, such as the ice user over there.”

Michael’s armor of ice was melting on the ground as he lay passed out on the cold cement floor. Frozen water was an excellent barrier from physical assaults, but it came up lacking as an electrical insulator.

“Most of these can only generate or shift a certain kind of element. Of that seven percent, about a quarter have total mastery of their element. The ability to sense it, create it, control it, and alter it in any fashion they see fit. Now, of that quarter, a mere ten percent are so powerful that they can give their physical bodies aspects of their element. Stony skin, boiling touch, and even a thing like lightning speed becomes possible.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re the cream of the crop, you rise to the top,” Roy said, shaking off the last attack. It had been a strong charge, but he’d remained standing. He was somewhat pleased to note that of the men’s top five ranks, only he and Chad could boast that claim. “Big whoop, we’ve heard it before.”

“The point I was trying to make, good student, is that even that ten percent of a quarter of seven percent is still classified under me. Because I don’t just assume my element, I can actually turn into it,” Professor Fletcher concluded. “So let’s see, still standing we have two resistance- and strength-based fighters, one absorber, one super speeder, one density controller, one rubber man, and one short range teleporter. Decisions, decisions.”

 

6.

Gilbert readied himself to leap again the moment the Professor disappeared. He knew he couldn’t win this way, but if he kept mobile long enough he might run out the clock until one of the combat capable people took him down. Professor Fletcher lurched forward and Gilbert teleported through the world, arriving at the rear of the gym, hopefully a long way from both sight and mind. A jolt of energy surged through his body, scrambling his wits and sending him crashing to the floor.

“Teleportation is a useful tactic,” Professor Fletcher informed him. “But the limitation is that you still think and react at human speeds. Which means someone who moves fast enough can easily sneak up behind you. In the future, try to think in terms of multiple jumps so as to confuse your opponent.”

Sasha stood on the balls of her feet. She could see when he transformed and see how the mass of energy moved. She alone could outmaneuver him; she alone might stand a chance. This was how she would start her year: not as the freak’s ex-girlfriend, but as a warrior on par with the new fighting teacher.

The surge of light and power flashed toward her, quick, but not so quick that she wasn’t able to slide out of the way. He was very fast but as she twisted her body around she knew he wouldn’t overtake her. She kept knowing that, right until his large hand closed around her arm.

“You are extremely fast,” Professor Fletcher complimented. “But unlike me, you still have too many physical limitations. Ever with your sped up reaction times, your bones and muscles can’t match lightning. Which means you can’t match me with dodging alone; you should have used a little offense as well.” It took an impressive charge to drop the girl with pink tips in her dark hair, but she tumbled to the ground like the rest eventually.

Hector took advantage of the distraction to charge forward. He’d been waiting since he got to the HCP for a match up like this. For all the electricity this old man might be packing, there was nothing he could do against Hector once he turned his body to living rubber. Not only did it give him amazing protection from bludgeoning attacks, but it rendered him an insulator. This was his fight to win. He reached the professor just as Sasha fell, letting fly a mean left hook toward the wrinkled face. His fist connected only with air, as he found the teacher standing to his side.

“Quite bold, and I can see why. To the untrained, this match seems heavily weighted in your favor. Of course, that ignores the fact that your defenses are ill-suited against attacks that slice or pierce, but even more importantly, it overlooks a basic piece of engineering knowledge,” Professor Fletcher said. He wrapped the rubber boy in bear hug and held on tightly. “Namely, that there is no such thing as lightning proof, only resistant.” The gym practically glowed as Professor Fletcher coursed electricity through Hector’s body. He stopped well short of a point that would have seriously melted the rubber composition but made certain to leave the boy a limp pile upon the floor.

Roy didn’t bother with getting ready or running forward. The guy was too fast to see. His only hope was to wait until he slowed down enough to attack and then give him a good wallop. He braced his legs and tightened his right arm. He was still ready for the attack when the tremendous voltage stuck him in the chest, sizzling through him and sending him into the realm of dreams. This same line of attack brought down Violet as well, the two sprawling out in different locations but with similar styles.

“If I was a speeder, then they would have selected a viable strategy,” Professor Fletcher acknowledged as he came to a stop. “Those are made of flesh and bone, and as such have to slow themselves to attack with accuracy. As a being composed of energy, I’m able to deliver as much juice as I need while simply going through them. Which brings me to you two.”

Vince stood ready, his body open to the charge of power that would soon be delivered. Chad was more relaxed, his body centered and brain running at full tilt. He couldn’t maintain such a heightened state all the time, but by over-clocking his brain, he was able to think and react at the level of a super speeder.

BOOK: Super Powereds: Year 2
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