Virus Attack (6 page)

“I've got powers?” he mumbled under his breath. “How's that possible?”

A voice bellowed from a window above Pete—the unmistakable tones of the school principal, Mr. Harris.

“What's going on out there?”

Pete pressed himself flat against the wall. If he were caught in this mess, he didn't think he could explain his way out of it. A quick glance at Knuckles confirmed that he wasn't going anywhere soon. Pete ducked back into the school and ran for the bathroom, fervently hoping he wouldn't bump into anybody on his way.

It was not just the boys who were experiencing erratic surges of superpowers. Emily had been slogging through a cross-country run during PE when her legs became a blur and she rocketed toward the finish line in the blink of an eye. Luckily it all happened so quickly that nobody had actually
seen
her move; the other students had been staring exhaustedly at their own feet.

The experience rattled her, and with shaking legs she moved as slowly as possible back to the locker room, although it seemed the power had vanished just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Lorna, who was in most of the same classes as Emily, had avoided running around in the cold by volunteering to help put together an art installation in the hall. The art teacher, Mrs. Skinner, had left her and another girl, Mary Sommers, to put up the display boards. Lorna glowered at Mary, who not only seemed to outperform Lorna in every subject, but also received more attention from the boys than she did. And of course, it was always the
same
boys that she liked. Mary was explaining how much better her display layout would be from the art room and dragging the boards into position.

Lorna was so furious she burst into flames.

Orange waves of fire consumed her body, just like the inferno that she had seen cover Pete the day they first stumbled upon the Web site. It felt like taking a dip in a pleasantly warm bath—but the fierce flames scorched the fabric display boards next to her, leaving them black and charred.

The flames extinguished with a dull whump seconds later, leaving Lorna and her clothes in one piece—just as Mary poked her head out from the art room. She immediately noticed the burn marks.

“What happened?” she asked with a frown.

Lorna was speechless. She spun on her heels and ran down the hall, leaving Mary Sommers shouting for her to come back and help. Lorna ran through a second set
of doors before she stopped at the staircase and quickly examined her hands. They seemed okay. Then she was distracted by a banging noise.

“What was that?” she asked aloud.

She was answered by a clang, like a table toppling over. It came from the floor below, from a basement room, which the students were banned from entering but occasionally did on a dare. It was dark down there and there were rumors of a ghostly presence. Lorna knew the janitor stored extra chairs and tables down there. Perhaps it was him? She peered over the rail.

The lights were off, so it probably wasn't the janitor, right? There were the faint sounds of movement. There was definitely
somebody
down there.

“Hello?”

Curious, she descended, her footsteps echoing. Then she saw movement in the shadows, and heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Lorna.”

At lunch Pete and Toby stayed as far away from the other students as possible. Toby didn't know what was bothering Pete, and he wandered over to find out.

“You saw what happened to me in class?”

“Yeah. I thought you'd been downloading powers on the sly without us.”

Toby shook his head. “I didn't. It just happened. I didn't even think about it!”

“You swear you didn't?” Pete had no doubt what happened today had nothing to do with Toby, but he was still suspicious that his friend had used the Web site in the past without telling him. Now was as good a time as any to catch him in a lie.

“Why would I do that? I've only been on the site to read the manual, which goes on forever. And I've talked to Chameleon a few times, but I haven't done
anything
else. I swear it!”

“Just seems suspicious, you spontaneously developing superpowers,” sniffed Pete, playing the innocent card as much as possible.

Toby looked at him levelly. “What can I say? I was as surprised as you. We've been friends for years, I thought you trusted me?”

Pete held his gaze for a few seconds before he crumbled and a smile twitched at his mouth. “Sure. Same thing happened to me.”

“What? You knew all along?” Toby snapped.

Pete ignored the tone; he was too excited to explain how he had dealt with Knuckles. In the middle of his flamboyant description of fleeing the scene of the crime and avoiding capture by Mr. Harris, Toby noticed Emily approaching.

“Here's Em,” said Toby, giving her a wave.

“She's got her own superpowers. She can find us anywhere,” said Pete.

“She always seems to be able to find
you
,” Toby quipped, repressing a smile. Pete frowned at him and was about to reply, but Toby cut him off.

“Hi, Em.” The look on her face told him everything he needed to know. “Let me guess: something weird just happened?”

Emily looked at him in surprise before nodding. “You too?”

“Both of us. Here comes Lorna.”

“Lorn, what kept you?” Emily asked.

Lorna looked flushed, and stammered her words. “Nothing. I was just in the basement, and I … er …”

“Basement?” said Emily, studying her friend.

“You had powers misfiring?” asked Toby.

Lorna composed herself. “I take it that means we all did?”

“The Web site went bananas last night, and now this? Something's gone seriously wrong,” Toby said. “I wonder if we'll get them again, or if it was a onetime thing?”

“Gone wrong?” said Emily, who was still looking oddly at Lorna. “I don't want powers that go off at random. It's too dangerous. We're all lucky nobody saw what happened. We might not be so fortunate next time.”

“Could be a virus,” commented Pete. “Computers get them all the time. And if your anti-spyware's not up-to-date, then something could've clashed and—bang!—superpowers downloading all over the place.”

“We have the right software. Up-to-date too.”

“Yeah, but do
they
have one?” Pete's expression suddenly turned thoughtful. “If we have powers and the site's no longer working, then do you think they're permanent?”

“No chance. We're not Primes. They'll wear off … at some point.”

“Maybe we are Primes?” Pete said thoughtfully. “Primes are born with powers, but they don't know they have them, right? Not until something triggers them.”

Lorna's eyes went wide. “You may be right.”

Toby shook his head. “No he's not.”

“Typical you'd say that,” Pete shot back. Toby was surprised at the harsh tone in his voice. “Always trying to stop us from doing what
we
want. But what's stopping us from going public with our powers now? Make some money from all this. If we have them and nobody else can access the site, then we've got nothing to hide.”

Lorna brightened. “We could get on talk shows!”

Toby held up his hands in an attempt to calm them down. “No way. We talked about this.”

“No,
you
talked. We listened,” Lorna said with an
edge to her voice. “We're the ones going out and taking the risks all the time. And what do we get for it? The stupid Web site telling us to keep quiet all the time.”

Pete nodded in agreement. “And now it looks like we have powers without having to download them. I think that makes us special.”

Lorna nodded in agreement. “Totally!”

Their voices were rising, and Toby had to quickly look around to make sure they had not been overheard. He noticed Emily was keeping quiet, no doubt reluctant to argue against Pete and Lorna. “But our powers do good. They fight evil. I know it sounds silly, but we make the world a better place. We are trusted to keep this quiet. And if something's wrong, then we have a responsibility to find out why and try to help!”

“I couldn't agree more,” said a new voice that made them all turn in alarm. A tall man was standing close by with his hands clasped together. He studied them with a slight smile. He wore thin square-rimmed glasses with thick black frames that complemented his impeccably sharp black suit, pristine white shirt, and narrow black tie.

“Who are you?” Toby said in a firm, but low, voice.

“Oh, you can speak up,” said the man, gesturing around the yard. “They can't hear you.”

Toby looked around. Everything seemed normal, and he could hear the constant background screams of the
yard. A football rolled over, and an elementary school kid scrambled to retrieve it. It bounced off of Pete's leg.

“Watch it!” scolded Pete.

The boy was standing right next to them and scooped up the ball with a puzzled frown. His eyes moved across the group but didn't focus on anything. With a shrug the boy returned to his friends.

“You made us invisible!” Pete accused.

“Not invisible,” said the man, as though he was discussing the weather. “Just temporarily imperceptible. They can see us perfectly, but their brains choose not to register that fact. Out of the corner of their eyes they can see us just fine, but when they turn to look, their brains just filter us out. It's all very …
quantum
.”

“You never answered my question,” said Toby. “Who are you?”

The man smiled, although there was no humor involved in the process. His gray eyes studied Toby shrewdly. “You must be Toby Wilkinson. Yes, yes … the makings of a leader. If only you could keep your team in line.”

“We're not
his
team,” muttered Pete, but the man didn't acknowledge him. Instead he kept his gaze on Toby.

“I am the person to call when you have something that needs concealing or a problem that needs resolving.”

Something clicked at the back of Pete's mind. Stacks
of useless knowledge from films, comic books, and science fiction stories brimmed in his head.

“Men in Black!” he exclaimed. “You're one of them!”

Emily laughed derisively. “Now you're getting mixed up with movies!”

“No,” Pete said firmly. “In real life they're supposed to intimidate people who think they've seen flying saucers or things they shouldn't have.”

“He is right,” the man said solemnly, wiping the grin off Emily's face. “I am one of many
fixers
, and that name has been applied to us. It is a sad sign of the times that when you dress smartly, you get singled out from the crowd. Think of me as a lawyer.”

Emily's parents were lawyers, so she felt on familiar ground. “Then who are you working for?”

“The same side as you. Please come with me and I shall explain.” He gestured to a black SUV that was parked next to the school gates. The parking lot was milling with teachers and police who were inspecting the damage caused by Pete's assault on Knuckles, but none of them paid the slightest attention to the car that was parked in a no-parking zone.

“If you're worrying about accepting a ride from a stranger, I assure you, you're quite safe.”

Lorna offered a terse smile. “I didn't think that
we
were the ones at risk. You're the one climbing into a car with four lethal superheroes.”

The man glanced at the wreckage in the parking lot, then back to Lorna. His face was deadly serious. “So I see. Then I hope I can trust you?”

The back of the SUV was comfortable and easily accommodated the five of them. The seats were oriented to face one another, and only as the man slid the door closed behind them did Toby become aware that there was a driver behind the tinted partition. The vehicle swayed gently, betraying that they were in motion.

“Where are we going?” Toby asked sharply.

“There is not a moment to lose, so I thought it better to talk on the move.”

Toby looked at his friends. Emily was unreadable, but she never took her eyes from the man, and her fingers flexed as though she was ready to incinerate him at a moment's notice. Lorna shrugged and sat back in the seat. Pete folded his arms. “You're apparently the team leader, dude.”

The man unhinged a flat monitor from the ceiling and swiveled it around to face them.

“I assume you would want to hear this from somebody you trust.”

An image flickered on the screen, and Chameleon appeared—in his natural guise of a handsome twenty-year-old. He was paler than usual, emphasized by his
jet-black hair that came to a widow's peak. A scar ran across his face that hadn't been there the last time Pete had seen him.

“Greetings, heroes.” Chameleon's voice was strained and wary. “This is a recorded message. Please forgive this unorthodox approach but we are facing desperate times and the Foundation has tasked me with the capture of a deadly supervillain: the Hunter. You can trust Mr. Grimm here. He will explain the situation and I hope we can count on your support. Good luck.”

The image flicked to black.

“That just about explains everything,” Pete said sarcastically.

Mr. Grimm was undeterred by Pete. “I have been hired by the Higher Energy Research Organization to track you down.”

“Er … who and how?” said Pete.

“The Hero Foundation. You know, the people who gave you all those nice superpowers that you have been playing around with?”

“Hero? I thought that's what we were, not
who
we were working for!” exclaimed Pete.

“Being a hero is a state of mind, not simply a power you download from the Internet. Even a criminal has that ability.”

Pete sat back in his chair and couldn't shake the
feeling that Mr. Grimm was a personality combination of every teacher he disliked.