SEVEN

The solemn air was oppressive. It didn’t dissipate in the car. If the ride to the bank had been depressing, the ride home was catatonic. Zach felt disconnected, dazed. His rampant thoughts dominated his mind.

No one spoke. After twenty minutes, they reached the apartment complex. Once parked and the van turned off, Zach sat back in his seat.

His heart ached, his soul numb.

He pushed the pain away, forcing the memory to disappear. He couldn’t afford to feel. He wasn’t trying to be callous. He mourned the death. The woman deserved it; the little girl deserved it. They needed to be remembered.

But that was an indulgence he couldn’t partake in. If the others saw him crying over the death, when he was supposed to be their foundation, then they would crumble – they would break down and cry, too. Zach couldn’t do that to his friends. They didn’t realize it, but they were counting on him to be strong.

Thus, no tears fell. Zach would no longer allow any haunting thoughts about the ‘what if’ – it was done; it was over. He had failed, but he would move forward.

His only focus: how to comfort the others?

Zach pulled off his mask. He twisted in his seat, looking towards his friends. Hikaru sat in the middle with Jacob, who was resting his head on her shoulder. Brielle and Sevati hadn’t changed seats; they looked out the window, their gazes refusing eye contact.

The van’s interior returned to its original state. They passed clothing around, returning each article to their rightful owner. They removed their masks, slipped shirts over their suit, and took off their gloves. No one would notice they all wore the same black pants.

Zach opened the door of the van and stepped outside, the others following. There was a chill in the air. The sunlight had darkened, now late afternoon. The sky blended with white clouds, forming a shadowy dusk of blue. There were no stars twinkling in the heavens.

The silence was brutal. Zach longed to hear the usually talkative voices, laughter ringing through the stairwell as they stomped up the stairs, much to their neighbors’ annoyance. Now, the footsteps were light, the voices silent. Zach unlocked their front door with his key and stepped inside.

“Is anyone hungry?” asked Hikaru, turning around when she was in the middle of the room. Drake closed the door behind himself. She smiled lightly; her jaw stiffened as she tried to maintain her composure. Her smile faltered when no one responded. “I can make something, anything you want. You all must be hungry. Mac and cheese?”

No one answered.

“There’s got to be something you want to eat,” said Hikaru, breathless. Her voice trembled and rose in pitch. She stepped closer to the kitchen. “We should eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” whispered Drake.

Sevati shook her head as well. Her lips thinned; she took a deep breath. Brielle stared at the wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Zach sighed. He had to eat something or his emotions would run haywire, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to support Hikaru, but he didn’t want to force the others to eat either. The thought of food made him gag.

Hikaru glanced between them, becoming desperate. “Are you sure?” she whispered. There were more shakes of the head. Her chest heaved upward; she inhaled. “All right, how about a movie?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful. She twisted her hands. “We could make popcorn.”

Jacob pulled away from the group, stopping in front of her. She looked down at him, her expression broken with sorrow. Large tears welled inside Jacob’s eyes. He threw his arms around her waist and began to sob. Hikaru embraced him; she dipped her face into his curly black hair.

It was a ripple effect: Sevati rubbed her face, sniffling softly; Brielle looked away, tears sliding down her cheeks; Drake put a hand over his eyes and tilted his face towards the ceiling.

Hikaru looked to Zach, filled with deep pleading and longing, as if seeking for some kind of answer.

But he was lost as the rest of them.

He had promised he would be strong for them, but the building lump in his throat was becoming too painful. He swallowed, his jaw clenching against his teeth; he forced the lump back down.

You are not allowed to cry.

Be their strength, their support.

Zach put an arm around Brielle’s shoulders, drawing her against his side. She didn’t resist. She leaned against him, before she hid her face in his shoulder. Her body shuddered.

“I know,” whispered Zach.

She let out a suppressed sob. He held her tighter.

“I know.“

Drake dragged his hand over his face, sniffling loudly. Sevati had lost the battle against her tears, turning to him and burying her face into his chest. Drake wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

A number of minutes passed. No one moved from their spots, each drawing comfort from the other. When there was a lull in emotions, they broke away, divided by their genders, and went into their rooms.

As Zach entered one of the two bedrooms with the other boys, he ignored the scattered clothes adorning the floor and open drawers. The bunk bed to the left of the door was also covered with numerous assortments of clothes, library books, pencils, and sketchbooks. The top bunk, slightly less messy, had a handful of stuffed toys. There was no order whatsoever to the mess, yet somehow Drake always seemed to know exactly where the unimportant things were and never the important things.

Like the television remote or a textbook.

The girls, on the other hand, were far superior in the organization of their bedroom – well, not Brielle so much, but the other two girls didn’t allow her to be messy. Zach had tried to clean the boys’ room before, but the room always exploded into mess within the five minutes.

Ah, well.

Zach walked over the pile of clothes blocking the pathway. He avoided a handful of action figures and comic books, nearly slipping on another pile of clothes. He jabbed his toe with a plastic sword. He hissed underneath his breath, hopping a bit as he rubbed it. He sighed.

Occasional sniffles punctuated the silence. The boys stripped out of their suits, changing into comfortable clothes. As he dressed, Zach glanced at the painting that hung above his bed. The brushstrokes had painted a dawning landscape, the sky brilliant with rich colors of red, gold, and purple: the glow of a sunrise. His heart twisted, remembering who wasn’t in his life any more – just like that little girl.

The emotional control he had maintained for so long detonated, the shattered pieces crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Water choked his breath; it threatened to overwhelm him. Blood rushed through his ears, the roar drowning all sound. His hands shook. His eyes burned, watering with emotion.

Zach scrambled to the end table next to his twin bed. Inside the drawer were a few pieces of hard candy, cheap stuff from a dollar store. He quickly unwrapped one and jammed it into his mouth without the others’ notice.

Breaking point.

Zach stood there, his back to Drake and Jacob. He drew in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. He cleared his mind and stared at a toy on the floor, keeping his awareness on the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

The sea of his emotions calmed, the uncontrollable tide ebbing to still waters. His hands were still shaking somewhat, but that would subside soon. Blood sugar issues were the bane of his composure.

Zach looked out the window as he waited for the boys to finish. The night had fallen, the darkness like an indomitable barrier, blocking them from the world. Close by, the other apartment lights were on; silhouettes moved behind curtains.

He pulled their curtains shut.

Zach walked into the living room. Drake and Jacob followed after him. The girls were already there. Jacob went straight to Hikaru, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his cheek against her shoulder, his dry eyes filled with a never ending chasm of sorrow. Drake went to stand next to Brielle and Sevati.

No one wanted to be parted from the other.

“Why don’t we all sit for awhile?” asked Zach in a low whisper. “Before we go to bed.”

Together, they moved as one. Zach sat down in the middle of the couch, with Brielle on his right. Jacob sat down next to Zach on the left, with Hikaru sitting beside him. Finally, Sevati sat down by Brielle, with Drake on the end. There, each snuggled against the other as close as possible, the old couch overflowing its capacity. Jacob and Brielle both pulled their knees to their chests and surrounded their legs with their arms. Sevati pulled her legs underneath herself and leaned against Brielle, with Drake resting against her.

Zach put an arm around Brielle and the other around Jacob. He leaned his head against the back of the couch. No one said a word. Occasionally, the silence was broken by a sniffle. After a few minutes, something soft slipped into Zach’s hand. He clasped tightly onto it, glancing to the side to look at Hikaru.

Tears streamed down her face.

All six friends fell asleep huddled together on the couch that night.

Keep reading –>

SIX

Time itself seemed to come to a standstill.

Hikaru didn’t hesitate. She elbowed the man in the gut, slamming a hand into his face afterward. The man let out a grunted cry. The gun in his hand clattered to the floor; his grip on her faltered. Her leg swung around and caught the man against the back. He collapsed onto his stomach. She landed a punch to his neck. He moaned softly, rolling in pain on the marbled flooring, before he stilled.

A childlike scream flooded the air.

“Mommy!“

That cry alone chilled the soul. The little girl clutched at her mother, tears flooding down her cheeks. The woman’s white blouse was covered with a bright red pattern.

Wait…

The pattern was quickly spreading across her chest, like the gentle blooming of crimson petals. It slipped through her fingers and over the hand clutching her chest, droplets slipping downward to stain her skirt. The woman’s eyes were wide with shock; she gurgled for breath. She slowly fell, collapsing onto her side.

The child screamed again.

Hikaru rushed to the woman, dropping onto her knees at her side. Zach went to the little girl and gathered her into his arms. She sobbed, her small hands clinging to him – yet she stared at her mother, watching as Hikaru ripped open the woman’s blouse. Zach cradled the little girl, trying to whisper soft words of comfort into her ear, but they felt hollow and void as they fell from his lips.

There’s so much blood.

The crimson liquid stained Hikaru’s gloves as she frantically tried to stem the blood loss. Her hands glowed lightly. The skin struggled to knit together. Flesh was torn beyond recognition. The blood overflowed and seeped through her fingers.

“I can’t…” whispered Hikaru, the white glow of her healing ability illuminating the blood. “I can’t stop the blood flow. Too many bullets. It’s too much—the damage. It’s not healing.” There was a pause; she let out an anguished gasp. “It’s her heart and lungs.”

“Smash!” shouted Zach, his head whipping upward. The little girl flinched in his arms. He patted her on the back. “Call for an ambulance! Spark, Peach, take care of the last criminal. Blaze, get Sullivan.”

The others didn’t hesitate at his orders. The other hostages tried to clear the area around the woman. Someone placed a hand onto the little girl’s back, trying to comfort her. Zach continued to rock her in his arms, hoping to calm her down – but she wouldn’t be consoled.

He couldn’t blame her.

The woman had long stopped breathing.

Her little voice sobbed ‘Mommy’ over and over, the unforgettable word playing endlessly in his ears. Each time he heard that cry, he was reminded of another time – one he wanted to both forever forget and always remember. Within his mind, the cries of the little girl blended with the cries of a little boy – one who, too, had cried out for his mother so many years ago.

Blood stained the floor.

Tears streamed down Hikaru’s face; she never stopped trying to save the woman, whose chest rose no more. The seconds passed like years, while the minutes passed like seconds. Zach wasn’t fully aware. The bank foyer filled with officers. The criminals were handcuffed and taken away. The remaining hostages were led outside. It passed by in a blur.

And all the while, Hikaru never stopped.

Not even when the medics arrived.

Her healing abilities couldn’t mend the destroyed organs. The medics pried her away. Hikaru sat back on her heels about two feet away and watched with blank eyes as they inspected the woman. One of them shook his head, a grim expression on his features. Hikaru looked down at her blood covered hands. The medics lifted a sheet over the woman’s face.

One of the officers tried to take the little girl away from Zach, much to his reluctance. She fought like a lion to stay with him. There was nothing he could do. She screamed as two officers pulled her out of his arms. Finally, she wrapped her arms around the officer holding her, giving in and sobbing harder than ever.

It shredded his heart.

Zach stood up, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness crashing through his soul. He would never forget her voice. He would never forget her face. He would never forget her white blonde hair and her tear filled blue gold eyes – they were etched inside his mind.

She never stopped crying.

Dark brown eyes connected with bright crystal blue. Shock glimmered in Hikaru’s eyes; tears never faded there. He knew what she was thinking. Those same thoughts were filling his mind.

Failed.

They had failed when it had counted the most. The woman had lost her life. That little girl was now motherless. She would grow up always remembering how her mother died – how she was killed. She would have to grow up without her mother, without that special, vital support – she was alone.

The pain twisted Zach’s chest, its depth nearly dragging him to his knees. No matter how much he wanted to move, he was rooted. Past memories tore through his mind with a vengeance. Their sounds drowned out the chaos around him. The ghosts of the mind threatened to destroy him, but he fought back, forcing them into the recesses of his mind.

I can’t dwell on that right now.

My team—my family needs me.

The rest of his friends watched the chaos with stricken eyes and thinned lips. Brielle kept her head turned, while Jacob had his eyes closed. Drake watched the officers, while Sevati stared at the white sheet that covered the woman. Zach wanted to go to them, offer some kind of comfort. They needed him.

But his voice was locked evermore.

Sullivan marched inside, barking orders and directing his men. Zach swallowed, bracing himself. His jaw tightened. The man would turn his attention onto him any moment now. He would blame all of this on Zach; it would be his fault. He was supposed to have the power to stop this.

But he didn’t any more.

“And you,” snapped Sullivan, his grey eyes flashing furiously as he pointed a finger at Zach. “Come with me. Now.”

I knew it.

Zach took a stalling second to take a deep breath. He’d barely taken two steps forward when Sullivan clamped a hand onto the back of his neck and roughly steered him forward. Zach gritted his teeth, unable to protest against being manhandled the entire way towards an empty room of the bank. Once at the door, Sullivan pushed him inside with such force, Zach nearly tripped. The door slammed shut behind them. Zach whirled around, taking a step back and putting distance between them.

“Explain yourself,” whispered Sullivan, darkness oozing through his tone. It sent a chill down Zach’s spine. A shouting adult was always better than a whispering one. “In small, short words.”

Zach sucked on the roof of his mouth. He swallowed back the bile in his throat. The textured material of his mask itched his skin. His gaze lowered; he could see the blazon red symbol on his chest, the badge of his subjugation.

“I… I messed up,” whispered Zach.

A hand slammed against the wall; the abrupt, loud sound made Zach flinch, his head whipping up. The man’s grey eyes narrowed, the fury overflowing.

“That’s your excuse?!” shouted Sullivan. “I told you no failures. I told you no injuries! I thought it was self explanatory – or should I have been more clear and said no fatalities?!”

Zach looked at the ground.

“Answer me!“

There was another flinch. Zach swallowed again. “No, sir,” he whispered. “You were clear.”

His chest ached with deep, twisting agony. It was the weight of a thousand bricks. His mind understood: tragedy happened all the time on the job. This had been an accident. The criminal had had a gun. The bullet could’ve killed any of them. Instead, it had been a civilian.

It wasn’t fair.

If this hadn’t been real, if this had been a fantasy, if it had been a movie, the gun would’ve backfired on the criminal and he would’ve fallen as justice took over with dramatic flair.

But this wasn’t a movie. This was reality – their reality. Someone had died – a mother of a little girl – all because a gun had gone off and none of them had the power to protect her. All these abilities and powers, and they hadn’t been able to save one life.

It wasn’t fair.

“Then, why did someone die?” demanded Sullivan, the fury rising with his voice. “If I was clear, why did you fail to protect the hostages?”

Zach continued to stare at the ground, trying to ignore the red in his line of vision. What more could he say? What could he possibly say to make this right? His badge of a hero was a mere lie.

“Look at me!” snapped Sullivan. “Look at me when I’m talking to you! Where’s your respect?”

For you?

I have none.

As Zach forced his head upward, a loud crack resounded within the small room; his head whipped to the side at the force. His mask buffered the blow, but a sting bloomed in his cheek. Zach gritted his teeth, his jaw tense. He slowly turned his head back, looking up at the man once more.

Stand strong.

“This is unacceptable behavior,” said Sullivan, his tone dropping like a stone. “This has become progressively worse with every assignment given to you. Why did that criminal shoot that gun? Why wasn’t he stopped with your powers? Why didn’t you tell him to stop?”

Lie through your teeth.

“I’m sorry, I messed up,” said Zach, keeping his tone even and respectful. It was softer than he liked, though. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t get a chance. It’s my fault—”

A second crack smashed into his cheek, the force double in power. Zach staggered backwards, grabbing onto a nearby desk for support. His hands curled. He pushed himself up and looked back at the man. His clenched fists trembled at his sides.

“Do not lie to me,” snarled Sullivan. “You’re protecting a unit member, aren’t you? Who failed this time?”

Zach shook his head. “It was my fault, sir,” he said, his voice strong. “I’m not protecting anyone.”

Sullivan narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything. There was a long moment of silence. The blood in Zach’s ears roared above it. His twice abused cheek now throbbed.

No weakness.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve messed up,” said Sullivan, after another long moment. His eyebrows furrowed, dark puzzlement entering his expression. “It’s getting worse lately. Why?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll do better next time.”

“You said that the last time,” snapped Sullivan. “But this time someone died!“

“I know,” whispered Zach; his heart twisted. “I’m sorry. It was an accident.”

The light inside Sullivan’s eyes went dark. It was so hardened, so cold that it sent a chill down Zach’s spine. He stood there, waiting for the third strike. It had to come – that look said it all.

But it didn’t.

“There isn’t any room for accidents in this life or in this work, One,” said Sullivan in an ominous whisper. He put emphasis on the hated title. “Your only job was to protect those people and capture the enemy. It wasn’t difficult – and yet… you failed.”

“Yes, sir,” whispered Zach. He never wavered; he refused to look away. Those grey eyes pierced his heart with their coldness, but he didn’t allow it to show. His shoulders fell back; his chest rose. His chin lifted slightly and his hands unclenched.

Never show weakness.

“Those who fail are never remembered,” whispered Sullivan, continuing in that terrible tone. “Those who fail are not given unlimited chances. Am I understood?”

A shiver crawled up Zach’s spine. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight,” said Sullivan, waving a dismissive hand. He turned to the side, putting his hands onto his hips. His lips curled with disgust. Zach went straight for the door. He paused when the man said, “This better not happen again, understood? You know what happens to units who don’t do their job.”

Yes, I know.

And I won’t let that happen to my team.

“I understand, sir.”

Zach strode out the door. He quickly walked back to the lobby of the bank. The flurry of activity droned in his ears, melding together into a dull buzz. His gaze caught sight of the pool of blood. His eyes snapped upward; his heart thumped against his chest. Zach took a deep breath, keeping his strides long and brisk. He plowed through the groups of medics and officers, lowering his head.

He didn’t want to look at their faces.

Once outside, he made a beeline for the nearest sidewalk ledge. When he reached it, Zach sat on the pavement and rested his elbows onto his knees, dropping his face into his hands. His eyes burned. He could hear the people around him and feel their presence, but he kept his head down, his thoughts racing a hundred miles an hour. Over and over again, his mind replayed the scene, trying to see if the next time would, somehow, be different.

But it never was.

It wasn’t going to change. Each time, bullets would pierce her heart and shred her lungs. Each time, her heart would stop. Each time, Hikaru’s hands would be covered in blood. Replaying it wouldn’t change the past. He knew all this, but he couldn’t stop thinking, wondering if there had been anything he could’ve done to stop this terrible event.

Well, if he wasn’t such a disappointment, then none of this would have happened. That much was clear.

His cheek throbbed.

Surely he could’ve prevented that woman’s death. A year ago, Zach could’ve saved her. He knew it. That was the key to all of this: it was his fault she had died. It wasn’t Hikaru’s fault. Being discovered by the criminals had been bound to happen, as always. It wasn’t like no one knew about Unit Twelve or hadn’t heard rumors of their powers – it had only been a matter of time for one of the robbers to find her.

They weren’t infallible.

It was an accident.

I should’ve been able to save her.

But he hadn’t been able to – those anguish screams of a little girl, he had caused them; he had made a little girl cry.

He couldn’t speak the truth. He couldn’t tell Sullivan. His friends knew, but they never said anything. The moment he told anyone, then everything would change. His life would never be the same again. Their lives would end.

‘Those who fail are not given unlimited chances.’

How many chances did he have left?

His poisoned thoughts continued to seep into his mind. For a few minutes, Zach couldn’t move from the sidewalk. The late afternoon sun shone down brightly, unaware of the tragedy that had occurred. Its warmth beat down on his back, heating his suit, yet the chill of the November air countered it. He tried to collect himself. He needed to pull himself together. He had to present a strong front for the others.

Just another minute.

Voices spoke in low, hushed sounds. Zach shifted on the pavement, turning his head to the side slightly. He peeked through his hand, seeing two men standing a number of feet away. He recognized them, officers who worked beneath Sullivan. It seemed they hadn’t noticed him sitting there.

“Do you think he’ll come here? The news has been saying he’s on the move again.”

There was a low scoff.

“A man like that is faster than the news. If he left, then he’s long gone. If Templeton is his next target, I bet he’s already here.”

Zach frowned, closing his eyes for better focus; he stilled.

“Is that why the chief is calling in extra security?”

His eyes popped open; faint light streamed through the cracks in between his fingers. He had noticed that. There had been far more officers on duty tonight – more than normal.

“I hope not. If he comes here, we’ve got our work cut out for us, not to mention those poor kids will have the fight of their lives – no unit has defeated him yet. There’s plenty of hospitals, medical centers, clinics, and other facilities in this city. We have no way of knowing which one he’ll target, unless he drops a hint like he usually does. Arrogant, that one. He could go to Philadelphia or Trenton.” There was a low sigh. “Is it too much to hope that he’ll just skip New Jersey altogether and go to New York?”

The other officer chuckled.

An icy chill slid down Zach’s back. His breath stopped in his lungs; fear clutched at his heart. He moved one of his hands from his face and pressed it against his chest. He tried to breathe slowly.

They were talking about him.

Tales of this man had gone around the country for a few years now. The terrorist left in his wake carnage of monstrous proportions. His destruction was costing the country billions, perhaps trillions, of dollars – all because this mysterious man had some kind of agenda or vendetta that no one seemed able to figure out. Why target hospitals and clinics? Supposedly, the targeted hospitals were specialized ones and the fatalities weren’t huge in number, but the death toll was still high and ever rising with each attack.

If that man was going to come to this city, then more people were going to die. Hospitals of that man’s choosing would be blown up. The city would be terrified, wondering when the man would strike next.

That is, if Unit Twelve didn’t do anything about it.

It was their responsibility to protect the lives of these people.

I can’t live through another death like this. If this criminal comes to our city, we’ll take him down no matter what. We can’t go through this again.

But… Would they fail again?

A hand touched his shoulder. Zach took a deep breath and looked up. Drake stood over him; the muscles around his eyes crinkled with a pleading light. The hand withdrew and Zach nodded. He stood up, brushing himself off. The rest of the team stood nearby. Sevati and Brielle were looking away. Hikaru had Jacob in a tight hug; he clung onto her, his upper body shaking with silent tears. She looked over the boy’s shoulders towards Zach, her gaze penetrating in its intensity.

Pain resided there.

Keep reading –>

FIVE

It’s okay. No one is going to get hurt. That little girl is going to be okay.

The robbers had masks on, carrying semi automatics. The hostages were huddled in a small group. Tears stained some of their cheeks. The only child, a little girl, whimpered beside her mother. The woman kept her arm around her, yet she had positioned her daughter behind herself, as if to shield her from the criminals.

One of the robbers was squirming, shifting his weight from side to side. Zach smirked behind his hand. Hikaru wasn’t even using any kind of special power for this effect. She had this way with her tongue, making it clip like droplets of water. Simply whispering in someone’s ear did the trick.

“What is wrong with you?” demanded one of the men, his attention on the squirming man.

“I think I’ve got to go.”

“Go? Go where?“

“To the john.”

“What?! Not you, too!”

“Hey, sorry, but when nature calls, a man’s gotta do his duty.”

Zach shoved his hand into his mouth, biting down on the fabric of his glove. His body shook. He was going to have to tell Drake that one. It was a good thing Drake hadn’t been around to witness it, though – he’d have blown their cover with a burst of uncontrollable laughter.

There was a groan from the first robber, while the other man snickered. Thus, the third victim to Hikaru’s attack made his way down the hallway. Zach curled closer to the wall, keeping out of sight as the man passed by. Down the hallway, a few moments later, he could hear the soft sounds of a scuffle.

Then, silence.

Three down, two to go.

Zach watched the remaining two men. The one he assumed to be the leader of the bunch paced back and forth in the lobby. He kept looking back at the hallway every few seconds, appearing anxious and suspicious.

I hope Hikaru will hold off on the next guy. The boss looks like he’s catching up with the plan. At least one of these dumbheads have a brain.

“Something’s wrong,” said the man, pausing midstride. His head whipped from side to side, as if someone would suddenly pop up beside him. “How long does it take to take a whiz, anyway? Why haven’t they come back?”

“Beats me,” said the other man with a shrug of the shoulders. “Maybe they had to take a dump.”

“Now? All of them?” demanded the first man incredulously. He threw his arms into the air in frustration, the gun in his hand waving wildly. Some of the hostages flinched. “This is getting ridiculous!”

“Uh, yeah… About that… Here’s the thing: my stomach didn’t like that late night burger—”

“Oh, just shut up and find them!” shouted the first man, grabbing his companion by the collar and thrusting him forward. The other man stumbled. “And watch for any funny business. Something’s wrong. It’s gotta be them—you know, those hero freaks!”

Zach sucked in his breath, his stomach dropping; he narrowed his eyes. The next criminal walked towards the hallway, passing by Zach without noticing him. The first man pointed his gun at the hostages. They clustered closer together, whimpering.

“Nobody move!” shouted the man, a furious, wild light in his eyes. “Move and you’re dead!“

Zach watched the other robber walk down the hallway towards the bathroom. He took each step slowly, alert as he looked around. Once he reached the bathroom, he pushed the door open, keeping his distance. He peeked inside.

“You guys in here? What’s taking so long?”

He gasped; a fist smashed into his face.

Four minions down and one boss left to go.

As Zach turned his attention onto the main room, a seed of panic sprouted. The last man was waving his arms, trying to feel for something in the air. There was a soft intake of breath, barely audible – but the man heard it: he swung his arm suddenly. Hikaru cried out; she hit the floor, shimmering into visibility. She didn’t move at first, dazed briefly.

The man grabbed her around the neck. Hikaru gasped in pain as he jerked her back, his arm tightening on her neck. She clutched at him, pulling on the fabric of his sleeve, trying to break away. He jabbed the gun against her temple. She stopped struggling.

“All right, the game is up!” shouted the man.

Zach’s heart stopped.

“I know there’s more of you!” snapped the man, digging the gun further into her skin. “I’ll shoot her, you hear?! If you don’t want this girl dead, then you better come out, the lot of you!“

“No!” cried Hikaru, struggling once again. The man jerked his arm against her neck; she gasped out a cry of pain, her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth opened in gulping breaths.

“You better stop, girl, or I’m gonna blow your brains right outta your head!”

“Stop it,” said Zach, coming out into the open. He took a step closer. “Just stop, don’t hurt her. I’m the one you want.”

The man whirled to the side, his attention now on Zach. He snapped Hikaru around with him and she winced in pain. “Where are the others?” he demanded. “Where’s the rest of you freaks?”

“We’ve taken out your buddies,” said Zach, keeping his hands in the air. He kept his gaze on Hikaru. He could see her dark brown eyes; they were wide with fear, a shining beacon through her black mask.

“Take me to them!”

“Look,” said Zach, licking his lips. His throat stuck with dryness. He swallowed. “It’s over for you. Your buddies are knocked out. You’re alone,” he said, taking a step forward. The gun whipped from Hikaru’s temple and pointed at him. Zach stopped. He continued, putting all his effort into speaking with a clear voice, enunciating each syllable carefully. “Put the gun down and surrender. You do not want to steal. You do not want to hurt these people. You do not want to kill anyone.”

The man barked out a laugh.

The hostages stared at the exchange with wide, fearful gazes. The mother shielded her daughter, pushing her even further back; the little girl clung to her from behind. Zach heard the soft steps of the rest of his team sneaking down the hallway. He didn’t acknowledge them; he continued to stare at the man.

“Just shut up!” shouted the man, waving his gun wildly. Zach stiffened. “You’re just a little toy from the government! I’ve heard about you. You’re just kids! You can’t do anything when I’ve got the gun. Now bring out the rest of you!”

His heart sank. It wasn’t working. He was failing again. He was facing the barrel of a gun. Any moment, it could shoot. His words weren’t effective; his voice wasn’t effective. Once more, they were failing him. He knew it; he’d known it – and yet, he still tried again and again in some vain hope that the power would work for him.

I can’t fail them.

Zach wasn’t afraid of a gun. Facing that gun himself wasn’t scary. He could dodge the bullet. But if its fire turned onto someone else, how could he protect them? In that moment, Zach was terrified that someone would get hurt – all because he couldn’t get his power working.

Come on, voice, work for me now.

“Just put the gun down,” said Zach in a low voice, a prayer in his heart. Right now. It was going to work – it had to. “You should put that gun down, all right? You don’t want to hurt anyone.”

His heart hoped for it, yet his mind was realistic.

It’s not going to work.

“Shut up, kid,” said the man, coldness flowing through his tone. He cocked the gun. It pointed at Zach’s head. “I’ve got the gun. You’ve got nothing. I’m gonna blow a hole in your head, one by one – and then the world will be rid of six more little freaks.”

We’re not freaks.

The man’s finger pressed against the trigger.

Or are we?

“NO!” screamed Hikaru.

Just as the man pulled the trigger, she stomped on his foot, jabbing her elbow into his side. He grunted, doubling over. The arm holding the gun moved, lowering.

Multiple shots blasted through the bank.

Screams instantly followed.

Keep reading –>

FOUR

“You did a nice job,” said Drake from the front passenger seat, as he looked at the interior of their van. He played with the pristine screen in the center of the dashboard, flipping through the radio. “You’re getting better at this.”

“Thanks,” said Brielle blandly, her elbow on the windowsill with her chin resting in her hand. She was sitting in the back row with the other girls. “Wish we could keep it like this,” she added under her breath.

“I know,” said Zach, checking his mirrors. “But you did do a really good job, Bri. You always do. It’s a shame we can’t keep it like this.”

He turned the ignition on and drove the van out of the school parking lot. Once further down the street, he opened the window and stuck the police siren on the top. It flared to life and Zach increased his speed.

The van was over eighteen years old and should’ve been dumped in a junkyard at least four years ago. Brielle’s powers were all that kept it going in the first place. They took advantage of their missions to make it more comfortable, reverting it back afterwards. Otherwise, someone was bound to notice a high tech interior in an old, dilapidated van.

It was a risk they couldn’t afford to take.

Drake was allowed to drive them to school since he was seventeen. Zach and Hikaru had driver’s licenses as well, due to special permission their chief had obtained, but they could only drive during missions. The entire police force knew their identities; there wasn’t any worry about being pulled over.

It was strange.

Here they were, driving to the place where a crime was being committed. It wasn’t cool or exciting. They weren’t swinging onto the scene like flashy comic book heroes. They had no quippy remarks or silly puns upon their arrival. There were no fireworks declaring their appearance. They were just driving. It felt lame. None of them could fly; though, Zach had heard about some of the other units containing a member with such a gift.

But for themselves, they drove.

Despite the gifts they each held, there was nothing special nor heroic here. There were no tricks. There were no super villains out to take over the world. There were just people committing crimes. As a unit, they were mainly called for bank robberies and the like – something that happened often enough within the large city of Templeton Hills. Sometimes, they were assigned to a kidnapping, but that was rare – none of them had tracking abilities. They weren’t ever used for missing persons or homicides.

It was disappointing. Zach wished they could do more, be more – they could’ve been true heroes, like the ones he’d always admired in the movies. How sad it was; they didn’t even have enough money to go see a movie. They weren’t treated like the heroes they could’ve been. What did it mean to be a hero anyway? How were they different from anyone else? Was it their powers that made them unique? Was it the antagonists that made them heroes?

Or was it something more?

Zach sighed and switched on the police scanner.

“Unit Twelve reporting for duty,” said Zach. Sweat accumulated within his gloves as he gripped the steering wheel. He bore it. He licked his lips, his stomach crawling with an unpleasant feeling. He had delayed too long.

“About time, One.”

His stomach churned.

“During school hours, you know, sir,” said Zach, attempting to maintain some respect. His efforts fell short.

“Remember who you’re speaking to, One!” snapped the voice.

Zach inhaled and clenched his teeth. “Yes, sir,” he said softly.

There was an aggravated huff.

“There’s been an armed robbery. They haven’t come out of the bank since we’ve surrounded it. They’ve taken hostages and are demanding safe exit. Your job is to rescue the hostages while securing the criminals. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now move it, Unit Twelve. There’s no time to lose!”

Zach switched the police scanner off, refusing to answer to their title. Silence filled the car. “All right, guys,” he whispered. As he said before every mission, without need: “Remember to say our code names out of sight. No need to ruffle the chief’s feathers about protocol.”

The group murmured their confirmations.

Go through the motions.

It’s safe there.

Despite the rules, despite the labels, Zach refused to be a number. He wouldn’t stand for that. They were more than that, more than mere numbers. A year into being a unit, they had come up with simple nicknames to address each other on a mission. They’d gotten better after that. They had become the team they were never supposed to be.

All one syllable codenames that identified their gifts.

Zach kept his name at the others’ insistence. He appreciated why, but if the Chief of Police, Andrew Sullivan, heard the others calling Zach Chief, they would be in enormous trouble – much more than having the codenames in the first place. Zach’s codename was a symbol of open rebellion and would be taken as such. It was a strong possibility their team would be disbanded for such a carnal sin.

But that was the one and only risk they were willing to take.

They were human beings – and deserved to be treated as such.

Unfortunately, such things were wishful thinking.

They reached the bank in ten minutes; Zach parked the van nearby. The usually busy main street had been blocked with numerous police cars. Zach frowned. Why are there so many? That’s unusual. Some of the officers held back the crowd gathered to get a look at what was happening, while others were trying to calm the people who had family in the bank as hostages.

Chief Sullivan stood in the center, barking orders at anyone who ran by. At the same time, he was shouting into a cell phone at his ear. His presence among his subordinates was dominant, his height seeming to tower above the rest – though, he wasn’t taller than the average man. He was older, his brown hair greying at the edges.

Zach’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Just bear it. Just get through this. Do the job. Get out. Go home.

Simple.

He didn’t get out of the van. The others didn’t move, either. Stalling, Zach turned in his seat to look at them. Jacob was sitting in the middle row by himself with his hands clasped in his lap. In the back, Hikaru was in the middle, while Brielle was on the side closest to the van door. Sevati was boxed in at the other side, looking out her window.

No one wanted to do this.

“Are you guys ready?” asked Zach, his voice quiet.

Brielle shook her head. “Let’s not and say we did,” she said, pushing her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “I wanna go home.”

Best suggestion I’ve heard all day.

Zach tried to smile, but it was tense and fake. “Come on.”

There were exasperated sighs. Jacob pulled the handle and the side door slid open. The noise of chaos flooded their ears. Zach winced. As they piled out of the car, a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. It wasn’t gentle.

“About time you got here,” said a stern voice. Zach turned around. Sullivan stood in front of him. Zach pressed against the wall of the van, keeping his back straight.

“Sorry, sir,” said Zach, holding back the list of excuses and retorts he wanted to say. This man was a no nonsense type. He’d gotten into trouble for retorts before and he had no inclination to repeat those experiences.

Keep your mouth shut. Don’t piss him off today.

“Come, all of you. We need to talk,” said Sullivan, pulling him away with a firm hand. Zach gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to pull out of the man’s grip. The touch made his skin crawl beneath his suit.

The chaos level toned down a bit at their arrival. Cheers burst from the crowd of people at the sight of them, intermingled with irritated shouts. Some of the children waved to them. Jacob smiled softly at some of the onlookers. Drake was the biggest attention grabber: he waved his hand at them and the crowd crowed happily even more.

The boos overshadowed the cheers.

As they turned the corner, Zach gave a quick glance into the crowd. Faces blended together, heights erratic with different ages – yet just as he turned away, something in the crowd caught his gaze. A man…? He wouldn’t have noticed anything if it hadn’t been for those piercing crystal blue eyes.

But he was around the corner before he could get another look.

They entered a slender alleyway, shadowed by the large bank and the other nearby buildings. Sullivan turned around to look at the group, folding his arms in front of his chest. Zach rolled his shoulder. The man’s eyebrows creased with narrowed grey eyes; his mouth edged downward in a perpetual scowl.

“You can’t screw this up, you got that?” said Sullivan, his tone sharp. Lovely, that’ll raise morale, now won’t it, sir? thought Zach dryly. “There’re lives at stake here. You’re to obey my orders should I give further instructions. Your only job is to restrain these criminals and to get the hostages out alive. I want perfection. No injuries. No failure. Am I understood?”

A chorus of ‘Yes, sir’ flooded the air. The man nodded with a small flash of approval. It was fleeting, however; he directed his gaze at Zach.

“No mistakes like last time.”

Zach nodded; his jaw tightened. “Yes, sir. We’ve got this.”

“Get to work, then.”

Zach waited for the man to leave the alleyway, before he turned to his friends. He could see it in their eyes: they were in the zone now. Determination burned. No longer were they the vulnerable, easily bullied orphans in their school. Here, the enemy didn’t know who they were. They could hide behind the mask and take out any criminal who opposed them. They were powerful against their enemies.

This was what kept a roof over their heads and what kept food on the table, no matter how limited it was.

Zach motioned to the group and they huddled around him. “You ready?” he whispered, looking at each of them. They all nodded. “Then, let’s do this.”

It’ll be all right.

We’ve succeeded so many times before. We’ve helped so many people before. We’ll save them and we’ll stop these criminals.

A few mistakes don’t define us.

They walked to the end of the alleyway. After a few minutes of searching, they found a heating duct. Jacob knelt down in front of it and withdrew a metal rod from his belt. He positioned it in front of his mouth, took a deep breath, and exhaled. Flames burst from his mouth, amber lighting up the darkened alleyway. The blaze poured into an opening on the rod, forming into a small line that came out of the back.

Jacob burned a hole into each corner of the heating duct, melting the screws completely. Jacob wiped the sweat from his forehead, pulling away from the vent. Drake took his place. The older boy grabbed the edges of the metal opening and pulled, ripping it off.

“So easy,” said Drake with a cocky drawl. He set it aside quietly and patted Jacob on the back. “Good work, Blaze.”

“For you, it is,” said Sevati, rolling her eyes. Drake gave her a confident smile, coming to stand next to her.

Brielle knelt down in front of the opening. She rubbed her hands together and placed one onto the metal surface. “Doesn’t seem like anyone is guarding the emergency door,” she said, after a moment. “I can’t sense any weapons. But they did put a high tech lock on the door.”

“Can you get through it?” asked Zach. “What about the bank alarm?”

Brielle intertwined her hands together and cracked her fingers. “Of course. Easy stuff. Be ready for me.”

She crawled into the heating duct. The sounds echoed lightly as she disappeared. The rest of them waited by the nearby emergency exit door. Drake could’ve easily torn the door off its hinges, but that would’ve alerted the criminals.

No swinging heroes here.

A few minutes passed in silence. Clink. A sound came from behind the door; it swung open to reveal a smirking Brielle. The special lock floated in pieces in the air above her upturned palm.

“You guys sure are slow,” said Brielle, her tone playful. The pieces lowered to the ground without a sound. “I thought I was gonna have to beat up the bad guys all by myself.”

“You wish,” said Drake.

They closed the door behind themselves. Tall windows let in the sunlight, which streamed into the long hallway and shadowed part of the path. At the end of the hallway were a pair of restrooms. Drake stepped towards the men’s room.

“Whoa, excuse you,” whispered Brielle, looking at the men’s bathroom door with disgust in her eyes. “I am not going into the guy’s bathroom.”

“Uh, Spark…” began Hikaru. She never got a chance to finish her thought.

“Does it matter?” asked Sevati with a sigh.

“But I’ve never been in the girl’s room,” said Drake, horrified.

Zach put a hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. Really? We’re really having this argument right now? Again?

“No, we were in the guy’s bathroom last time,” hissed Brielle. “You make the sacrifice this time.”

“We’re wasting time,” said Sevati lightly.

“Come on, Bri, what’s wrong with the guy’s bathroom?”

“It’s dirty!”

“Aren’t all public bathrooms dirty?” whispered Jacob.

“No, it’s not—”

“Uh, hello?” said Zach, stepping in between them, lifting his hands into the air. “The bank robbers are probably guys—” Hikaru and Sevati both opened their mouths, about to protest. “—not that girls can’t rob banks and threaten hostages, too,” he quickly amended. I can’t believe I have to say that. “But… Let’s just say they’re men. All right? We’re going into the men’s room.”

Some things just never change.

Brielle folded her arms, her mouth slanting in annoyance. As they walked inside, she grimaced at the unique, functional side of the male bathroom. Hikaru stared at the ceiling, avoiding all eye contact with the porcelain objects.

“We need to figure out what’s going on,” said Zach, looking at Hikaru. She nodded. With a shimmer, she disappeared, turning invisible. Her footsteps were soft as she walked out of the bathroom.

“All right, depending on how many there are—” Since Sullivan didn’t bother to tell us anything. Thank you for the nonexistent help. It’s like he wants to sabotage us. “—let’s just go with our usual method: the bathroom plan.”

“Cloak isn’t going to like that,” said Sevati.

“But it’s the easiest plan,” whispered Jacob. “I mean… there’s less fighting, so less risk, right?”

Possibly.

The plan relied on stealth, forcing them to take things slowly. It was better this way for most of their missions. After all, if they came into the bank, fighting wildly, someone could get hurt – especially one of the hostages. The girls were best at slipping in and disabling the enemies. Brielle would dismantle the weapons, while invisible Hikaru would lure the criminals away and cause confusion among them. After Drake knocked them out, Sevati would tie them up.

They rarely had an all out battle with criminals. Stealth was the safer, smarter way of bringing them down. There was no reason to burst onto the scene like a bunch of hotheads, when luring them out one by one had the same effect.

The bathroom door opened. Hikaru became visible again. “There’s five men, each carrying semi automatics,” she said. “And there’re seven hostages.” The light in her eyes dimmed; her lips thinned briefly. “Chief,” she whispered. Fear bled through her dark eyes. “There’s a child, a little girl. What if—”

Zach placed a hand onto her shoulder. Her gaze lifted, connecting with his – her terror penetrated his heart.

“No one is gonna get hurt, all right?” whispered Zach. The light in her eyes didn’t brighten. “Look, it’s going to work out,” he said. “No one’s going to die or get hurt. We got this – we’ve done this before. We take down the bad guys and save the hostages. We’re—we can do this.”

He had almost said, ‘We’re the heroes.’ Thankfully, he had caught himself before it slipped out. She gazed at him. The only window Zach had into her emotions were her eyes and lips. She nodded, the light in her eyes softening.

“We’re counting on you, then, Cloak,” said Zach, giving her a smile and a pat on the arm. The flesh around one of her eyes moved, giving the indication that she was raising an eyebrow; there was a hint of confusion.

Then, recognition dawned.

“Oh, no—no, we’re not doing that plan,” said Hikaru. There was a pause; Zach didn’t budge. Desperation entered her tone. “Can’t we do something else?”

“Oh, come on, you have the fun job,” said Drake brightly. “I wish I could do it. It’s hilarious.”

“But I hate this plan. Why do I always have to be the one to lure them out? And in such an embarrassing way!”

“I know! It’s amazing!” exclaimed Drake. His mouth twisted in disappointment. “I wish it were me,” he said. The evidence of him wriggling his eyebrows showed. “I guess I just don’t have that perfect, alluring nature to my voice.”

“I have a fantastic idea, Smash: let’s trade. I much rather be punching them out.”

Drake laughed. Hikaru dropped her face into her hands. She sighed, resigned to her fate. She went invisible. Three of her steps were heard before they went silent with her stealth. The door to the bathroom opened and closed.

Silence reigned as they waited. Drake took his position near the door, his body tense. Sevati stood at the other side, while Jacob and Brielle hung back with Zach. The waiting was always difficult, but it was the silence that killed him. He couldn’t help but worry about her, wonder what was going on. Perhaps it came with being the leader, this nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had nothing to do with her skill; she could do this without getting caught.

But his stomach still churned in her absence.

The sound of footsteps signaled her first success, the first victim to the you-have-to-go-to-the-bathroom trick – all beautifully whispered in the ear.

The masked robber barely had a moment to open the bathroom door when he was met by Drake. The boy gave him a smile and a lift of the hand in greeting.

“Yo.”

That same hand turned into a fist and smashed into the man’s face, knocking the man out immediately. With the flick of her hand, Sevati released a small seed into the air from a pouch around her wrist. The seed hovered in the air briefly, before it expanded, vines bursting forth. By the time Drake dragged the robber into the bathroom, Sevati had strong vines around the man’s arms, wrists, and ankles.

Drake took the man’s gun and tossed it to Brielle. It paused in midair a few inches away from her outstretched hands. Her hands moved in a circular motion; the gun came apart, the pieces separating altogether. She lowered them to the ground and they clinkedagainst the floor.

“Good job, guys. Peach, you might be crushing the guy’s wrists with those vines.”

Sevati rolled her eyes. “He’s fine; he’ll live,” she said; the vines loosened barely.

Zach stepped to the door and peeked into the empty hallway. “Cloak, you there?” he asked. There was a soft sigh and Hikaru’s form appeared with a light shimmer. Zach smiled. “Good work. One down, four to go.”

“Hey, you think this batch is dumb enough to all need to go to the bathroom at the same time?” asked Drake with a grin, poking his head out from behind Zach.

Hikaru chuckled. “We’ll see, won’t we? Men can sometimes be a bit slow on the uptake, hm?” The hallway became empty again. There was a soft laugh; then, silence.

Drake looked at Zach. “I set myself up for that one, didn’t I?”

Zach snorted. The group fell into silence once again, as they waited for the next sucker of a criminal who would fall victim to Hikaru’s invisible attack.

She didn’t disappoint.

The second robber was knocked out, gun removed, and tied up with the first. That leaves three. Time to give her some backup. Bankrobbers weren’t exactly stupid, after all. They were bound to figure out that something was up by now – or at least be somewhat suspicious.

“I’m going with her,” said Zach, stepping out of the bathroom. “You know what to do.”

He walked softly through the long hallway, staying alert. The vaulted ceiling dwarfed him, the modern architecture giving it a clean, white look, even in the darkness of the limited light. Zach reached the end of the hallway. He crouched low, staying close to the wall, remaining hidden within the shadows. An invisible touch lightly brushed against his arm. Zach crept forward. He kept his head down, keeping his gloved hand over the lower half of his face to shield the exposed skin.

Once around the corner, he could see them: the last three criminals and the seven hostages.

Dread filled his chest.

Keep reading –>

THREE

Dread mixed with relief.

Zach drew in a long steadying breath. From one devil to another. While Drake had been hoping for this, he’d much rather have gone home after school. He exhaled, strength and determination rising in his heart. He raised his hand, standing up from his chair. He slipped the phone into his pocket.

“I need to go to the principal’s office, sir,” said Zach. He made a discreet motion, tapping two fingers on his forearm. The teacher nodded, his lips curling in disgust as if he’d been flipped a rude gesture. Zach grabbed his bag and rushed to the door.

Ungrateful—

“Hey, Bennet,” said a feminine voice, in a mocking, sing song tone.

Zach paused, his hand gripping the handle. His chest rose. He glanced back. Tiffany Mayfield grinned at him, twirling a strand of her long curly brown hair. She parted her painted lips, her lip gloss glistening. She leaned forward on her desk, her blouse revealing the cleavage of her large breasts. It was obvious she was playing it up, trying to act seductive – as if she wanted him to see what he’d never be able to get.

Zach was just nauseated by it.

“Tell my uncle I say hello,” said Mayfield, letting out a snide chuckle as she looked at the other classmates. They joined her in laughing. Her current boyfriend, Travis Novak, barked his laughter. She gave Zach a wave with her fingers. “Better not be late, right? He really doesn’t like that.”

More laughter.

Gritting his teeth, Zach fled the room. He took long strides through the hallway, keeping his chin erect. He avoided all eye contact with any stranglers. He took the same path he’d taken countless times before. He entered an older hallway, one less used, just as Hikaru turned a different corner. She smiled at him, but the usual brilliance in her eyes didn’t shine. Silence was their companion; this was routine. They reached an old, out of use janitorial closet. Zach opened the door. The other four were waiting inside.

“Hurry and shut the door,” said Drake. It closed behind them and the lock clicked into place.

“Where’s the sheet?” asked Zach, all business. He was supplied with a white sheet, which was hung as a divider within the small room. The girls disappeared behind one side, leaving the three boys on the other side.

“And you doubted that I’d be saved from my test, Sev,” said Drake with an excited grin. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside. “Miracles do happen – I swear, there has to be a God!”

“You’ll still have to make it up later,” said Sevati from the other side of the sheet. Pure smugness oozed from her tone. “Your ‘miracle’ has a funny sense of humor. That’s karma for you.”

“Wait, what?” said Drake, pausing as he took off his shoes. He looked up, his eyebrows furrowing. “I have to take it later?”

“You thought otherwise?” said Sevati, sounding amused.

“Ugh! Sev, don’t ruin it for me!”

“And are you sure you should be swearing on your God? Doesn’t sound respectful to me.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I wasn’t even paying attention in class,” said Zach, his mouth twitching in a small grin. “I hope I didn’t miss anything important.”

“You were supposed to pay attention,” said Hikaru, the lilt in her voice rising upward.

Zach chuckled, shaking his head. He glanced over at Jacob, noticing the increasing discoloration around his eye. The boy would need some ice when they got home. He ruffled Jacob’s hair, giving him a smile. He received one in return. Zach tugged his t-shirt off and dug inside his backpack for his black, skin tight shirt.

The room was crowded with the six of them changing their clothes. The first time they had done this, it’d been awkward for the two genders to dress in the same room. The second time, they had gotten the sheet.

Now they were a well practiced machine.

“Well, I, for one, would’ve rather have stayed in class,” said Hikaru, her voice taking on a lofty tone. “If we keep missing, we’re going to start failing our classes.”

“Only you care about failing,” said Brielle, sounding bitter.

“I care about grades, too, you know,” commented Sevati dryly.

“Grades are important if we want to—”

“Look, we all know there’s nothing more we’re gonna do with our lives,” snapped Brielle. “This is it. So, just stop pretending like school will do us any favors. Good grades are useless to us. We’re not normal.”

The small room fell in silence. Zach didn’t have an answer nor any words of comfort. As usual… How can I do more for them? I don’t know what to say anymore.

Helpless.

His voice was locked.

Brielle was right. More than likely, they would be doing this for the rest of their lives – if they even managed to live past the age of twenty. They would probably always have to change in a closet – as if they were criminals, as if they were something to be ashamed of, as if they were something to hide. It wasn’t like they could get a real job.

Powers were considered dangerous, after all.

Thus, being employed by the government was the only way to survive. Not like we have a choice. Though, a better description for ’employed’ would’ve been contained and controlled. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay well. Why would it? There wasn’t any competition. There wasn’t anyone to argue the fact. There wasn’t anyone to advocate for them.

They were orphans. They had powerful gifts. They were abnormal.

They were different.

Zach slipped the black mask over his face. It completely encased the back of his head – hiding his bright auburn hair – along with half of his face, only revealing his two crystal blue eyes. All six of them had the same mask to hide their identity. Because Hikaru and Sevati had long hair, they took the time to wrap it into buns. The back of the mask kept the hair in place and hidden from sight.

Eight minutes was all it took for them to dress.

They tended to wear the black pants of their suit underneath their normal clothes, but it wasn’t as simple with the long sleeved shirt. Each suit was exactly the same. The material for the suit had been designed specifically for them. It was bulletproof, but at close range it could still do damage. From an observer, it appeared seamless. The only visible skin on all of them were their mouths and noses; the rest was covered in the material.

Their uniforms were completely black, with no color, save for the blazon red number residing on each of their backs, which told their unit number and rank. Finally, there was a red badge that authenticated their unit status, which was stamped at the center of their chest.

They weren’t a selection of people working together as a team for a common cause. No, they were a unit, a set, a collection, required to follow and obey orders without question. They were numbered. They had no special names. Even though they worked like a team, they couldn’t be called as such, because it wasn’t ‘protocol.’

They were Unit Twelve.

12:1 – that was Zach’s number. He was the leader. That was why he was called One.

But he hated it. He hated what it meant; he hated what it stood for; he hated everything about it.

But he had no choice but to bear that number.

For three years, they had been drilled with this concept: they were nothing more than a number. For three years, they had been trained to be a powerful force to be reckoned with – at such young ages, too. For three years, they weren’t allowed to be children. For three years, they had no choice in what they wanted to do or be.

They weren’t supposed to be friends. That was against the ‘rules.’

When thirteen year old Zach had been put in charge of five others – youngest age nine, eldest age fourteen – this mentality hadn’t been as ingrained into their minds. Perhaps, they were flawed in comparison to the other units.

In the end, they hadn’t cared.

They were a family; they were more than a team. They’d had no one else. There were no adults to take care of them. There were no parents. Once their training had been completed, they had been left with a thirteen year old to lead them, to oversee them both in the field and at home.

No one mentioned that children needed more than a leader. No one mentioned that they needed more than instructions and rules. They needed a parent, someone who loved and cared for them. No one taught Zach how to be a parent, but he tried his best anyway – they all did. No one helped any of them, so they helped each other. Once their unit became functional, they were nothing more than a unit.

They were just ‘heroes’ hired and trained by the government. It seemed like a high position, yet it was the lowest one of all. Their powers were ‘gifts’ to the world; thus, this was the only way they could contribute to society.

Well, that was what they were told.

The truth was a different answer.

Branded with a number, our freedom stolen…

Zach slipped his black gloves over his hands. With a determined nod, he took a deep breath. “Time to go,” he said, opening the door and leading the way.

Let’s do this.

Keeping reading –>

TWO

After gaining permission to leave – an annoyed wave of the hand – Zach left the classroom with a tired exhale. Once in the empty hallway, he broke into a run, sprinting all the way to the principal’s office. He slipped as he turned a corner; his sneakers squeaked through the silent hallway. He compensated by using the floor and wall for support, before using the momentum to get back on his feet.

“I’m here, what’s the problem?” Zach gasped out, bursting into the office. Ms. Park gave him an unamused glare. He glanced over at the chairs and held back the groaning sigh that threatened to flow through his body.

Brielle was sitting in one of the chairs, her arms folded and her body slouched. Jacob sat next to her, his back straight and rigid as he twisted his hands together in his lap. His head was bowed.

Well, this couldn’t be good.

“Sit down, Mr. Bennet,” said Ms. Park sharply, pointing at a chair.

Oh, dear… We’re in trouble.

Yet again.

Zach sat down in the empty chair next to Jacob. He tried to get a reaction out of the boy, but he wouldn’t look up. Worry snaked around Zach’s heart. He glanced over at Brielle, but she gave him no response.

“What’s going on?” asked Zach.

Ms. Park pursed her lips in irritation. “Miss Durante and Mr. Blythe have been in a fight.”

An incredulous look lifted Zach’s features. That’s what this is all about? You’ve got to be kidding me. “Already?” he asked. His lips formed into a tense smile. “It’s not even lunchtime, guys.”

Irritation bloomed through the woman’s expression. Zach winced, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.

“This is no joking matter, Mr. Bennet,” said Ms. Park, her eyes widening in disapproval. “This is a serious offense and must be treated as such.” Zach nodded, trying to look contrite. This seemed to pacify her and she continued, “Fighting, as you know, is not tolerated at this school. Furthermore—”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s just them,” said Zach, interrupting her. She glared at him and he added hurriedly, “I mean, they’re like brother and sister. Couldn’t you let them off with a warning?”

“You misunderstand me, Mr. Bennet,” said Ms. Park, her lips thinning as her features pinched together. She’s gonna get wrinkles if she keeps that up… “They weren’t fighting with each other, but with some other students.”

“What?“

Zach twisted in his seat, staring at his two friends. Exasperated annoyance twisted in his chest. The day had already started poorly, for crying out loud. Couldn’t they have avoided the fight? They were going to get kicked out of school at this rate.

Jacob kept his head down, while Brielle glared viciously at the woman. She trembled, as if she were about to explode at any moment. With a sigh, Zach’s heart softened. He leaned forward and gently touched the edge of Jacob’s chin, lifting the boy’s head up. He sucked in his breath.

Now I get it. I should’ve known…

The side of Jacob’s lip was swollen with dried blood. His right eye was beginning to close from the swelling. Red blended with his dark skin, a hint of yellow entering the area. The boy was going to have a whopper of a bruised eye in a day or so.

“Oh, Jacob, how’d this happen?” whispered Zach, tilting the boy’s face to the side to survey the damage. The boy’s eyes watered; his lips trembled. But he shrugged and continued to stay silent.

“I’ll tell ya how it happened!” snapped Brielle, bolting to her feet. She smashed the side of her fist against the wall; everyone in the room jumped in their seats. The framed pictures on the wall rattled. Her words came out in a low, angry hiss. “They were ganging up on him! He was on the ground—” Brielle bit the word out as if she were saying a filthy expletive. “—and they were kicking him like a dog! No one was stopping it.”

A dark, malevolent glare was sent to Ms. Park.

“None of the teachers seemed to notice,” said Brielle, her tone hard. “Even though they were watching. So,” she whispered. Her lips thinned. She lifted her chin, her expression challenging. “I stopped it.”

“Miss Durante, you’re already in enough trouble as it is,” said Ms. Park, unaffected. “Do not add violence against school property to the list.” The woman pointed at the chair. “Now, sit down.”

Brielle didn’t obey at first, her stance reeking of defiance. Her chest heaved, the anger blazing. She sat back down in her chair with a huff and crossed her arms, a scowl perpetually on her face.

This wasn’t going to end well; precedence had ingrained this into Zach. He’d been forced to accept this unfair fact of their lives. Avoiding trouble was the way he’d learned to cope with this situation.

No back talking, no fighting, no retaliation against others – no matter how much he or his friends were in the right – doing this meant no trouble with adults. No trouble with adults meant safety and security.

However, Brielle was young and had a thing for justice.

Zach liked that part in the young girl.

But this wasn’t a justice system – and even then the odds were stacked against them. This was school, the most unfair institution in the world. Because the fight involved one of them, they would be at fault. It was automatic; it was the default. None of the teachers would punish the instigators. Because of who they were, they had no choice but to take the blame.

And it was everything but fair.

“You punching that boy was uncalled for, Miss Durante,” said Ms. Park. Her tone was unforgiving. “You will serve detention all next week. You are extremelylucky that I’m not suspending you for this. If…” The woman hesitated, as if looking for the right word to describe their profession. “…other things get in the way, then you will make up the time. You should be thankful for my leniency. Do I make myself clear?”

Brielle looked away, her chest rising. She nodded a fraction of an inch. Jacob gnawed on the other side of his lower lip, like a dog with a chew toy. His eyes watered with unshed tears.

Oh, Jacob. I’m so sorry. I wish I could fix it.

We’ll get through this. It’s Friday – no more dealing with this crap until Monday. Even though it’s not even lunch and we’re still getting into more trouble…

Not that everyday isn’t like this.

The weekends were never long enough.

“And what about the jerk?” demanded Brielle, her head whipping back up. Her amber eyes flared. “You gonna let the guy who was beating on Jacob go free? As if we haven’t noticed that he’s not here!“

“Brielle!” hissed Zach.

“Miss Durante! You’re not to take that tone with me!” shouted Ms. Park, her chest puffing up as she sat straighter in her seat. “How d—”

“But it’s true!” cried Brielle; the betrayal bled through her tone. “He was the one who was beating Jacob up. Why am Iin trouble for trying to defend my family?”

Ms. Park drew in a deep breath, her fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She lowered her hand; there was no sympathy in her expression.

“Mr. Clifton’s punishment is none of your concern. You should only take in consideration your own actions.” She motioned to Jacob. “I’m letting Mr. Blythe off with a warning. You’re dismissed and if I see any of you in my office again today, you can expect suspension.”

He didn’t even do anything. Thank you for your magnanimous compassion.

Jacob lowered his head, his hands twisting more in his lap. His dark eyebrows furrowed with worry. Brielle trembled in outrage, her lips thinned to a near invisible line. Just as she opened her mouth to retort, Zach overrode her, his voice cold, “Brielle, be silent.”

Her gaze whipped to the side. Zach shook his head. A wounded glimmer of light flickered in her eyes, before she dropped her head. Her fists clenched at her sides. The air slipped out of Zach’s chest. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It was easier to nod and take the blame for things, than to argue for their justice. It was easier to keep their heads down. It was easier this way. They were branded as troublemakers and everyone wanted to scorn them. Nothing would change their views.

He gritted his teeth; he clenched a fist.

Zach stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. “We’re sorry for the trouble we’ve caused, Ms. Park,” he said, nodding politely at her. She didn’t acknowledge him nor look up from her computer.

Zach put a hand onto Jacob’s shoulder. The boy’s chair creaked softly as he stood up. Brielle was the loudest of the three of them, shoving her chair back and bolting to her feet. She whirled around and huffed out of the room. Zach silently closed the door behind himself and walked through the hallway with the other two.

“Are you in pain?” asked Zach, after they put some distance between themselves and the principal’s office. Jacob shook his head, keeping his gaze on the floor. They stopped.

“It’s—not—fair!” cried Brielle, each kick punctuating with her words as she vented her frustrations on the nearest locker. The clang of her kicks rang clear through the hallway. Zach didn’t stop her.

Better the locker than someone’s knees.

“I know,” said Zach, his voice low.

The girl glared up at him, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “It’s still not fair!” Brielle shouted. She tucked her lower lip in her mouth and bit down, her teeth burying deep into her flesh. Her mouth trembled.

Zach lightly tapped her chin. “Stop, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Brielle whipped her head away. Her teeth disappeared behind her lips. She glared at Jacob. “Why didn’t you fight back?” she demanded. “You could’ve beaten the crap out of those jerks! Why didn’t you fight?! Why did you just lay there and take it?”

Jacob flinched. He looked between the two of them, biting his lip nervously. Zach tapped his chin, giving him a pointed look, and the boy stopped. Jacob shrugged and curled his arms around his chest. When Brielle didn’t push him, he sighed.

“Not supposed to fight,” whispered Jacob, his voice gentle.

Brielle’s face scrunched up. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have helped you,” she said, her tone filled with betrayal. “Because that’s fighting?”

Jacob shook his head, looking down at the ground. “No.” There was a pause. He twisted his hands. “Thank you.”

All the anger drained from Brielle’s body. She crossed her arms and let out a soft huff, before she turned her head to the side. A faint blush graced her cheeks. Zach smiled. Despite her brash nature, Brielle had a good heart. Her embarrassment by a simple ‘thank you’ was endearing.

“Whatever. Someone has to make sure you don’t come home with bruises.”

Jacob smiled. Before the girl could stop him, Jacob threw his arms around her in a hug.

Brielle squeaked. “All right, all right, I get it,” she said, pushing against Jacob. He didn’t budge. “Will ya ge’off me!?”

Zach laughed lightly. He drew them both into a hug and lifted them in the air. There were heated protests from Brielle, while Jacob giggled. After a moment, he let them down, but kept an arm around each of their shoulders. Brielle’s lips were lifted in an annoyed pout, but her cheeks were pink and her eyebrows were relaxed.

“You should get back to class,” said Zach, ruffling their hair. Jacob smiled and laughed. Brielle jerked away, acting mortified. “You should clean up a little before you go.”

Jacob nodded, leaning into the side hug for a moment longer. He walked down the hallway towards a bathroom. Brielle shrugged Zach’s arm from off her shoulders. Before she could walk away, he grabbed her by the underarm, holding her back.

“Thank you, Bri, for trying to protect Jacob,” whispered Zach. “That was very nice of you.”

“And look what it got me,” said Brielle with a growl, tugging her arm out of his grasp. “A week of detention. I get blamed for punching that jerk, when he doesn’t even get a warning for the crap he pulled. How’s that fair?”

“It’s not.”

“I always thought adults were supposed to look out for kids,” cried Brielle, her hands gesturing wildly. “But they’re scared of us. Just because we’re different. It’s not fair!”

“I know.”

“Why aren’t they protecting us?” asked Brielle, her tone dropping. A soft, vulnerable light entered her eyes. “Just because we’re different, does that no longer make us human?”

Zach put a hand on his forehead and let out a low sigh. “Being different doesn’t make us any less human,” he whispered. Zach squeezed her shoulder. “You know that.”

Brielle didn’t answer. She pursed her lips together and gave him a sharp nod. She turned away and walked back to her class with her hands shoved into her jean pockets; her shoulders were hunched over.

Zach rubbed his forehead, pinching the space between his eyebrows. How long ’til lunch? With another tired sigh, he went back to his classroom. He sat down in his seat and stared at the board. He refused to look down.

There was new graffiti on his desk.

As the day progressed, he couldn’t concentrate, too aware of the eyes that would glance back at him. In between class periods, Zach tried to avoid drawing attention to himself; those eyes never stopped staring at him. Phone notifications whistled, chirped, and chimed as he passed by clusters of students. The laughter wasn’t subtle; the division was apparent.

Zach clenched his jaw and lifted his chin, slamming his locker shut.

He hated this. He hated that the students got away with this. They could bully them all they wanted and the teachers would never do a thing to stop it. The teachers weren’t discreet about their enmity towards Zach and his five friends – and the students had latched onto this like leeches.

It wasn’t long before they knew the truth. A group of six orphans living together under government control; there were twelve other such groups across the country. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who and what they were.

Even then, the teachers and students had no fears in treating them this way.

There was some consolation: it was against the law to reveal their identities to others. Though, this was only regulated online. Strict as it was, it didn’t stop the students from gossiping quietly amongst themselves.

Lunch came. As Zach walked into the cafeteria, he saw Hikaru in the middle of the line. He waved at her and she smiled back, her features tense. The whispers didn’t stop, but the uncomfortable twisting in his stomach faded. After grabbing his lunch, Zach walked through the path of tables, going to the very back of the room. Hikaru, Drake, and Sevati were already seated at the old table.

As Zach sat down, Brielle and Jacob joined them. The benches creaked with age. The cafeteria buzzed with voices all around them. Black marks marred the surface of the table – as usual. Sevati traced a finger over some of the marks with an impassive expression on her face. Brielle glared at her spot. Zach rubbed his eyes.

Is this ever going to stop? Aren’t they bored of this yet?

“Lift your trays,” said Hikaru with an air of someone prepared. She motioned with a hand while she pulled something out of her backpack. As they followed her instructions, she placed a red tablecloth over the surface, obscuring the individualized graffiti.

A brooding silence fell over the group. The food tasted like sawdust in Zach’s mouth. Once, he tried to say something – anything to encourage them – but the crestfallen faces killed the words in his throat. Hikaru tended to Jacob’s face with a first aid kit that she always carried in her backpack.

How am I supposed to be a leader, when I can’t say anything to cheer them up? I can’t even give them any hope. I have nothing.

So much for the ‘new’ day.

But just a few more hours and it’ll be over.

They separated to their next classes without a word. It was during the next to final period when something inside Zach’s pocket buzzed silently. He pulled the cheap phone out of his jean pocket.

Unit Twelve, assemble.

Keep reading –>