Super Powereds: Year 3 (30 page)

“An honest job,” Dr. Moran replied. “Why did you leave it?”

“The same reason I left everywhere, eventually,” Vince said. “I was afraid of hurting people. The longer I was with them, the more I cared about them, and the stronger my impulse to run away was. Most Powereds are a threat to themselves, but I put everyone near me at risk.”

Dr. Moran’s pen scratched across the yellow pad as she made a few notes to herself. How Vince had come through the life he’d lived with such kindness and optimism was a testament to his own character and to that of the man who had raised him. She’d treated people with less than a quarter of his trials and hardships who already hated the world, yet he was engaged in a demanding program that centered on helping others. Still, for all of Vince’s goodness, he was human, and his tendency to hide secrets had made itself clear over the course of their sessions.

“Vince, when we started these sessions, I told you I believed in honesty from both parties,” she began, noticing that his eyes had turned back to her. “That said, I want you to know that I’m aware you’re hiding something from me.”

His bright blue eyes widened just a touch, but the doctor didn’t pause her speech.

“I’m not accusing you, or trying to force you to talk about it. I just feel it’s healthy if you know I’m aware. There’s an event somewhere in the gap between losing your father and coming to Lander. You dance around it, coming close to saying something related to that event, then stopping yourself, like when we talked about your remarkable lack of scars. I know at least one thing is there, and that’s okay. This is a process, so you don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to reach a level of comfort with me before we discuss things. In the future, however, instead of purposely trying to obfuscate bits of your past or your emotions, just say ‘I’m not comfortable talking about that.’ Okay?”

“Okay,” Vince said, also nodding his agreement. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .” His words petered out as he searched for the right term.

“It’s perfectly fine,” Dr. Moran assured him. “I only brought it up because I know you well enough to be aware that the act of lying, even by omission, was bothering you. This is a safe place, and you define the boundaries. You never need to feel bad because we come to a junction you aren’t ready to cross yet.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Vince said, his voice slightly thicker than it had been before.

“Of course. And, Vince, when you’re ready to talk, I’ll always be ready to listen.” She paused to make a show of checking the clock, even though Dr. Moran kept acute track of the minutes in her sessions. “That said, we covered a lot of ground today, so if you’d like to head out a minute early, I think that will be fine. However, if you want to keep going, I have no other appointments this afternoon.”

“I’ll take a break for now,” Vince said, rising from the chair. “But I’ll give some thought to what I want to discuss next session.”

“That would be very productive,” Dr. Moran said, giving him her standard professional smile.

54.

The Close Combat class made their way into the new room in silence, save for the scuffling of feet on concrete. Professor Fletcher hadn’t told them much, only that it was time for the first tests, and then to follow him. He’d taken them down the lifts, to one of the many floors below Lander, stopping ultimately at a large room that seemed almost bare.

Some of the more astute students noticed the rings etched deep into the concrete floor, forming a series of circles moving out from the center. This advanced perception gave them a few extra seconds to wonder about the fate soon to befall them, but then Professor Fletcher began to speak and the point was moot.

“As Dean Blaine informed you at the beginning of the semester, the central focus of this year’s curriculum is learning to handle multiple opponents. We Heroes move in teams more than the criminals do, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find yourself facing multiple enemies more often than you might expect. Other classes will test your skills in other ways, but here in Close Combat, we like to keep things simple. Each of you will square off with three opponents. You’ll be confined to the circle I light up, so even though some of you have abilities that work at a range, you can’t distance yourselves.”

After Chad and Angela’s fight, many of the students had been giving more thought to their own ranged skills, and how they could augment them. It was a bit relieving to know that those elements wouldn’t be coming into play during this test.

“The rules are as usual: make someone quit, or knock them unconscious to win. Anyone who steps out of the circle is also disqualified, but only if they leave by their own power. You flinging an opponent across the room doesn’t disqualify them,” Professor Fletcher clarified. “Aside from that, go until all three opponents are down, or the examinee has been beaten. Grade-wise, I don’t think I have to explain to you that the more of the three you beat, the better you score. Any questions?”

Violet raised her hand. “Can we use our abilities?”

“Fair question,” Professor Fletcher said. “Yes, full power usage is authorized. We don’t just want to test your hand to hand skills, but how you apply them in combination with your abilities.”

The next question came from Jill Murray, and caused a few students to move an inch or two away from her. “If we use an attack that impacts things outside the circle, will that get us disqualified?”

“No, only if your body actually touches the ground outside of it,” Professor Fletcher told her. “Everyone but your opponents and me will be behind a shield, so go nuts.”

The grin that sliced its way across Jill’s somewhat round and pleasant face made even more people inch further away, while a few said silent prayers that they wouldn’t be put up against her.

“I don’t see any more hands, so we’ll move on,” Professor Fletcher said. “If you’re going to be tested today, I won’t use you as an opponent for anyone else until after you’ve gone. Those of you good with math will realize that means some people will pull multiple shifts on the ganging up side. Anyone who needs some patching after a test can see Camille Belden, who has graciously offered to do spot healing. Those totally incapacitated will be taken to the infirmary. Now then, our first trial will be Chad Taylor in the center. The three attacking him will be Sasha Foster, Violet Sullivan, and Thomas Castillo. Everyone else, into the observation room.”

Professor Fletcher pointed at a small door near the rear of the room, one that blended into the corner so seamlessly they hadn’t even realized it was there. The students complied, hustling off behind the thick barrier, finding a viewing screen set up so they could watch and hear the action as it unfolded. A few whispers flew about the strange choice in people to fight Chad, but the trial began before a full conversation could occur.

Within moments, the professor’s thought process became clear. Sasha’s speed allowed her to match Chad’s reaction times, Violet’s density meant she could trade blows effectively, and Thomas’s energy allowed him to strike between the assaults of the other two, when Chad was distracted. If not for the recent bout with Angela, it would have been the longest fight anyone had seen Chad engage in. It took nearly ten minutes before physical exhaustion began to slow the other three’s movements, and it was less than three from that point until Chad claimed victory. Thomas and Violet made their way over to Camille, while Sasha made a stoic face and dealt with the throbbing pain in her ribs.

The next match pitting Shane against Jill, Adam, and Allen took longer, though the one forcing Roy against Violet, Thomas, and Jill might have dragged on all period if not for a lucky punch that weakened the bonds Thomas was using to hold Roy down. Roy mumbled under his breath, despite the win, as he headed back to the safe room—something about “all that training, and I get put in a circle,” or some such. Before he’d made it all the way back, though, Professor Fletcher called to him.

“Daniels, stay out here. You’re one of the attackers in this next round. Chad, Vince, and Camille, I want you three to come join him.”

Roy grinned in spite of himself. The small circle meant he probably wouldn’t be able to use the technique he’d learned over the summer, but this was still a golden opportunity. Since he and Chad had both fought already, the logical victim had to be Vince. Putting Camille in was a bit of a handicap; however, he didn’t begrudge his friend that. Going solo against Chad would be tough enough, let alone if Roy was pitching in.

The four gathered around the circle, where Professor Fletcher was waiting for them.

“This is going to be the last fight of the day,” he said, checking his watch.

“Looks to be quite a tough one,” Chad said, eyes sliding over his fellow students.

“You have no idea,” Professor Fletcher told him. “Camille, in the circle’s center. The rest of you, get ready to attack on my call.”

Camille’s voice, to the shock of everyone, came out even before Vince’s overly defensive tones could escape his mouth.

“I need a minute to change,” she announced, her words firm and authoritative, as far as one could imagine from the gentle tone usually falling out of her lips.

“Granted,” Professor Fletcher replied. “The rest of you, get prepared.”

55.

Within moments, Camille had shed the outer layers of her uniform, leaving a sports bra and pair of athletic shorts as her covering. In a rare surprise, her embarrassment was actually so overpowering she couldn’t even blush. Instead, she took deep breaths and tried not to think about how little she was wearing while in view of the entire class. This was the part of her power that she’d always hated most; the necessity for skin-to-skin contact. When healing, it was no big deal. Grabbing someone to impart damage, however, was a more difficult task.

Her opponents took the strange behavior in stride, which spoke to just how bizarre the HCP world was, when such curious actions didn’t even spark a few impromptu questions. They silently surrounded her, forming a triangle, and waited for their cue.

“Everyone, begin,” Professor Fletcher called.

Chad was the first to react, bolting across the circle at speeds the others could barely see, let alone match. He didn’t know why Camille was being put against three opponents clearly out of her league, but he had his suspicions. The most logical assumptions were that she was either far more powerful than she’d let on, or the professor was using her defeat to teach someone a lesson. In either case, the necessary course of action was the same: take her out as quickly and humanely as possible.

The small girl was jerked off the ground as Chad slipped a simple sleeper hold around her neck. It was crude, but it would incapacitate her in only a few seconds, without imparting any unnecessary pain. She struggled briefly, then raised her hand a few inches and pressed her fingers directly on his cheek. The last thought Chad had was idly wondering if she was going to waste time trying to scratch him. After that, his world went black.

Camille rolled to the ground as Chad collapsed, the severe concussion she’d given him doing its work. She’d also thrown in several broken bones he’d have to heal if he came around too quickly. Hopefully, she’d get to heal them before he ever needed to experience the pain, but she wasn’t taking any chances against the number one rank in the class. Her eyes darted about, both wanting and dreading to see what Vince’s reaction to Chad’s defeat would be. Instead, her gaze fell upon Roy, who was running toward her. Strange that he’d taken this long to get into the fight, but then she realized why. Roy had used the extra time to remove his jacket, wrapping it around his right hand, giving him a makeshift boxing glove.

She dodged his first punch, leaping to the side in a move more acrobatic than Roy could have matched. There was a crackling explosion, and the area she’d been in a moment before became charred as a blast of lightning struck it. The upside to this was that the electricity almost hit Roy, knocking him momentarily off balance. It wasn’t much, but it was an opening.

Camille reoriented herself, running past Roy’s cloth-covered arm and diving for the hand still left bare. Roy recognized the danger and pulled his arm back; however, he wasn’t quite able to get away before her small fingers brushed his wrist. The months of training with Nick the previous year had noticeably increased how much damage she could impart with a light touch, which Roy discovered firsthand as he felt multiple bones in both his arms shatter. He grit his teeth through the pain and tried to focus, but his broken appendages meant he wasn’t able to stop Camille from grabbing his hand once more, and this time, snapping his femurs like twigs. With a grunt of pain, Roy went down, toppling onto his side like a freshly chopped tree.

Camille spun about, ready to dodge another electrical attack. Instead, she barely got away from a blast of fire, one that roared so close it struck her left shoulder and left visible burns. She found Vince, perched near the edge of the circle, another fireball manifesting in his hand. With a tentative, terrified rock of dread in her stomach, she let her eyes move from his flame-wielding appendage to his face, and nearly choked in surprise at what she found there.

Vince was smiling, no, beaming. He looked happier than she’d seen him in months. She had been ready for fear, confusion, even anger that she’d held a secret like this for so long. Instead, all she found was unadulterated joy.