The Dead Scout's Handbook of Afterlife Survival

Chapter Nine: Superpowers in Practice

The tremendous light in the sky clambered up and washed over the endless field as Cayden rubbed his still heavy eyelids. Beside him, a wide-eyed sort of pallor already plastered Rebecca's face. She opened her mouth to speak but whispered so low that Cayden couldn't extricate anything from the faint breeze. Slowly shifting his knees to the ground to avoid disturbing the quiet, Cayden approached her and raised a trembling hand to cup over his ear.

"Cayden, we should sneak out of here. Like ASAP. These people are lunatics," she murmured.

"Agreed. Let's get Charlie up." Cayden glanced over to the snoring mountain of a man beside Rebecca. She nudged Charlie to no effect. With several more shoves and a firm poke, Charlie snorted then rolled belly down. Cayden decided to assist and jabbed Charlie's ribs, eliciting a massive paw swatting at the air. Finally, Rebecca shot to her feet and kicked Charlie.

"Quit it!" he bellowed.

Eyes darting up, Cayden saw the three outsiders stirring from across the fire pit accompanied by groans and deep, adult whines. The short-haired elderly woman sat up. "Good morning!" She croaked. "Ready for your trip to the city?"

Cayden tensed his neck and glared at Charlie, whose face bore the displeasure of a morning jump-started far too early.

"Whenever you're set, Martha." Charlie moaned, wiping saliva and dirt covering half his face.

"Good! But we're staying for a month. You all think you're prepared for this big, scary place? You're wrong. You..." Martha jabbed a finger at Charlie, "already know your power. Yet, you two..." she pointed at Cayden and Rebecca, "remain oblivious to yours."

"And exactly, how do we learn them?" Rebecca asked.

"We mess you up real bad with water, cold, fire, wind, flying objects, and falls from great heights. Using every method possible, we'll try to hurt you until you avoid getting hurt," Gregory smiled. "It's safe!"

Rebecca and Cayden cringed in unison though Gregory's relaxed posture and unwavering stare suggested there wasn't much choice in this matter.

#

A blinding light reflected from Randall's bare scalp as he perched on a red moss-covered log a dozen yards away. A thin-lipped, reptilian smile cutting across his face while Gregory paced beside him. They still occupied a uniform canvas of reds and blacks though the grasslands now plunged into a marsh a few hundred yards downhill. Moss of every color, hanging and resting on all surfaces, crept from the marsh to pepper the landscape. It had taken them about 45 minutes to trek here and Cayden guessed any fatigue would be overshadowed by whatever was to come in the next 45 seconds.

Gregory addressed them. "Randall here is a hell of a wind user. He'll show you how one ability can perform many tricks. Sounds neat, right? This is an important point to consider because, with the right technique and a little surprise, even a weakling can take out the strongest man or woman out here. If you thought this morning was a bit chilly, you're in for a miserable day. Today, we're going to start your crash course by freezing your bits off. Randall, being the resourceful gent he is, will exhibit the most difficult technique that a wind user can master by creating a tiny tornado from a specific air layer. It'll bring air from the mesosphere straight on your skulls, to make for what will be the most uncomfortable three minutes of your lives. A cryomancer or frost user, if you happen to be one, can make a shield of ice at these cold temperatures. If you don't happen to be one of those, and you go into hypothermic shock, I'll warm you nice and toasty. Now, are you both ready?"

Cayden gave a jerky shrug and Rebecca remained motionless, scowling at Gregory. "I mean, we don't have a choice."

"That's the spirit! Ice 'em, Randall!"