James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book One

Eight

That night, Derek parked the car in an empty lot as we listened to the police radio. He lowered the volume and looked at me for guidance, but I was unsure of what he expected from me. I wasn't a God, nor did I have any godly qualities besides my abilities. Yet here we were, thanks to Derek and Sam's insistence. It surprised me that Sam had gotten involved; he usually discouraged these endeavors.

Derek appeared tough in his police uniform but knew he couldn't take on a super like me. So, I remained seated while uneven lines formed on my lips. "If we're going to do this, I don't want you damaging my car. No dents on my hood," Derek murmured.

"I got this," I muttered back, and Derek nodded, though doubt flickered across his face. He turned up the radio volume, and we settled into our seats, waiting. I idly drew on the frosted window as he leaned against the car's side. Both of us snapped upright as a shadow loomed outside.

"What the hell is that?" Derek wondered aloud. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as he reached for his walkie-talkie.

"10-4, we have a shadow moving outside the vehicle," he radioed.

Chief Michael Reignson's laughter resonated from the other end of the walkie-talkie. "Are you kidding me, Knight? A shadow? Get back to work." The signal faded, and the murky silhouette inched closer to the patrol car.

"Damn it, James. Get out there!" Derek yelled, and I struggled to open the door, tearing the handle off.

I glanced at Derek, who appeared angry and would undoubtedly scold me later about his car. Standing in the cold, I waited for something to happen, questioning why we thought this was a good idea.

Derek watched me closely as I paced, and then the shadow vanished. I returned to the car after seeing something in my peripheral vision, dismissing it as a bad idea.

But as I went to tug the door handle, a hooded figure suddenly materialized right behind me. The mysterious figure grabbed my waist and forced me away from the door, sending me reeling across the parking lot. As I flew by, I noticed their curly locks and deep red eyes before finally crashing into the dumpsters in the alley.

I groaned painfully as I rose from the ground and sprinted toward Derek and the car. I stumbled forward, grabbed the teenager's shoulders tightly, and yanked him back to the earth with all my might. He did not seem fazed. With a sudden surge of strength, he lifted me off the ground with telekinesis. Despite my best efforts, I could not escape his grip.

Derek's patrol car came alive as the super approached it, terror painting his features as he pressed the brakes. However, they were useless against someone much mightier than him. The vehicle rapidly gained speed and plowed into my side, locking me in place against the chilled cement, and the super disappeared like a coward.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked, leaning over me. I pushed the car off my side and took a deep breath. Derek offered his hand, and I grabbed it.

"Yep, a few bruises won't stop me."

"Good," Derek replied, his breath visible in the cold air. "Sam and I are going to kill you. What the hell, James?" He shoved me in brotherly anger, and I fell to the ground, wiping my face with my palm.

"What, Derek?" I grumbled, deflating against the concrete.

"He could have killed you—or me. He could have killed both of us," he exclaimed. I sat up, and Derek hit my chest, earning a sharp look from me.

"This wasn't my fault," I argued, pulling myself up from the ground and brushing scuffed tire debris off my shirt. But, of course, if Dad saw this, he would have a full-blown panic attack. "I recall you and Sam encouraging this just an hour ago. I'm not Superman, you know," I added the last part to lighten the mood.

"Superboy or not," Derek grinned, "Dad will kill you if Sam or I don't."

"Then give me your undershirt. Dad won't notice."

"Are you kidding me?" he roared. "You have tire tracks all over your pants, too. If Dad is home, he will notice you no matter what."

"Derek," I growled. He bit his tongue as I focused on his car. The engine roared to life.

"Either take it off or deal with Mark's dad about your car."

Derek looked at me with glazed eyes. I had been quarreling with him all day, and my frustration was bubbling to the surface. "Fine," he relented. He gripped his collar, pulled it over his head, then threw it on the floor next to his pants. Derek had a muscular physique and resembled a slightly older version of me with a trimmed beard, barely visible, and deep blue eyes. He had a well-defined six-pack, like all the men in my family, but it paled compared to mine. I was much more substantial. His muscles were strong but spanned only half of my chest.

"Thanks," I smiled.

"I'm doing this for you," he mumbled, tossing his undershirt at me. "You're not as intimidating as those newbie supers."

"Oh, yeah?" I squared up to him.

Derek chuckled. "You're outdated, bud."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he licked his teeth. His arm wrapped around my neck, pulling me in, and he ruffled my hair.

"Get in the car," he ordered, throwing his shirt over his chest and fastening the buttons. Derek met me on the other side of the car, opened the door, and hopped into the driver's seat.

"Dad is still going to kill you," he stated.

"The captain always goes down with the ship," I asserted. Derek rolled his eyes and chuckled. Starting the ignition, we pulled out of the parking lot.

∆∆∆

"You let him do what?" Sam grumbled, arguing with Derek.

"He knew what he was doing," Derek countered. I buried my face on the couch. Sam and Derek were only trying to keep me safe. My father never acknowledged my abilities, but I was sure he would have done the same thing if he had.

Speaking of my dad, he walked into the room from the kitchen, slumping down in his revolving chair by the window with his beer. The room fell silent for a moment.

Hopefully, my father didn't hear us when Derek told Sam about my father's less-than-heroic superteen and sidekick brother—either that or my dad's acting classes in high school paid off. Yep, my dad was going to kill me.

"What did he do?" My dad asked, taking a swig of his drink. My face turned red, hoping my father was too drunk to notice the dirt lines on my pants. Instead, Sam, Derek, and I froze.

Summoning courage, Derek spoke up. "I took him with me tonight," he said.

"And?" my dad urged. He knew us too well, more than we realized.

"A super attacked us, but we're fine, Dad. I promise."

"Damn it, Derek," my dad swore. "How often have I told you not to involve your brother in your police business?"

"It was my fault," I stepped forward. "I asked to come along." Sam groaned audibly.

"James!" my father scolded me. "You know better, too. You're not a superhero." I swallowed hard and cursed silently.

"Who said anything about being a superhero?" Derek interjected, saving my skin. My dad huffed.

"Just go to your rooms," he growled. We didn't argue and retreated to our respective rooms. Derek followed me, raising an eyebrow with a grin.

"Yeah, yeah. Dad knows," I whispered to Derek. I wasn't foolish, nor were Derek, Sam, or my father.