With great power…comes a whole lot of trouble…
Drake Sinclair has always had superpowers. Inexplicable. Powerful. Dangerous.
He’s always been desperate to know why.
But he’s not ready for the one person with answers to be a psychopath with a murderous vendetta.
Still, Drake will do anything to discover the origins of his abilities and protect his new friends and the girl he’s falling for. Even if that means finding Lucius Sykes, the notorious psychopath ‘gifted’ with the same powers as Drake by a long-destroyed illegal organization called Project Midnight.
Except that Project Midnight is back. And they’ll also do anything to finish what they started…
Pulse-pounding action, Marvel-level snark, superhero origins, and romance collide in this intense young adult superhero fantasy!
Excerpt
My day really began the moment the men shot at me.
To set the record straight, it wasn’t my usual idea of fun.
I crouched lower in the thick underbrush, blending in as much as I could in the black hoodie I’d worn to ward off the April chill of South Dakota. I could just imagine how the headlines would read: Local Boy, Drake Sinclair, Killed by Poachers With Lucky Aim.
Not the kind of ending I’d hoped for. Not that I contemplated my end too much.
The first poacher who’d fired at me swore as he tripped over another branch. He shook his leg to free his camo jeans and angrily pulled his jacket as it snagged on a limb. The small clump of thick trees surrounding us may have only been a windbreak, but it was still treacherous underfoot. Especially if you didn’t know where you were going. And were an idiot.
“I swear I saw something,” he said. “Really, I did.”
The second poacher growled. “You didn’t see nothing! Just a bird or rabbit. Probably didn’t hit it anyway.”
No, he did not hit me. But there was an oak tree a few yards back that was nursing two slugs and some deep resentment. I breathed out as the poachers passed, then stopped, afraid they’d see my breath. Then I realized that was stupid.
It was six thirty am. I had been out on my morning run and it was very dark. That’s probably what the poachers were thinking (not too much, trust me) when they’d come out. Dark enough to poach without being caught, but too dark to see what they were shooting at; mainly, me.
Brilliant!
By now the poachers had moved far enough away to allow me to move. I easily leapt into the tree next to me and landed silently on one of the sturdier limbs to watch them.
They had been smart (kind of) to come to the backwoods of Dale Janson’s land. He owned so much, the back two hundred acres were almost never checked. ‘Perfect mischief ground’ my dad called it. Mischief ground.
That’s why I was here. It was the only place I could be…me.
I mapped an imaginary course through the trees in front of me, judged my moves, and jumped, leaping from tree to tree, so quiet I didn’t even rustle a leaf. I eyed one on my right and went for it, clearing the twenty-foot gap with ease.
Some called it Parkour. Free running, finding the most efficient way to move, envisioning new ways to use space. Fun, I called it.
Time to put the practice into play.
The poachers were just ahead of me. No doubt they were looking for the tons of deer that loved the fields of clover Dale Janson owned. I’d outrun a herd of them on the ten-mile run from my house to here.
“Man, you sure we won’t get caught?” Tubby poacher asked. He leveled his Remington, like it would keep him safe. The skinny one laughed.
“You scared? ‘Fraid old man Dale’s gonna catch you?” His boots crunched leaves. “Or you frightened of the spooks ‘round here? Oooh! Demons! Phantoms!”
“Stop that!”
“Nah, you stop being a baby. And trigger happy. We shoot off too much, somebody’s gonna come lookin’.”
Their shapes stood out to me in the near darkness. Time to make my move.
I hit the ground and rolled, then took off towards them. I rushed the fat one, my feet flying over the ground, coming within a foot from him and yanking on the tail of his shirt before jumping back.
“Gah!” He yelped. “What was that?”
“Watch where you point that thing! Watch it!”
I charged them again. The skinny one must have sensed something coming his way, because he swung his shotgun around and fired right at me.
Pssh. Lucky guess.
I twisted in midair, contorting my body so the slug buzzed harmlessly past and cracked! into the tree behind me. I grabbed the hood of his hunting jacket and tugged it hard over his eyes and shoved him into the fat one.
“Run,” I whispered.
I didn’t know men could scream that high.
“Go! Go!” The skinny one shoved his friend forward and together they stumbled, tumbled and tripped their way back the way they had come. I stood there and tried to keep from laughing too loudly.
When they were gone I checked behind me at the horizon, which had begun to turn a light pink. I usually liked to stay out longer. With the end of my high school senior year coming up, I had a lot to think about, and no easy answers. There were still classes to worry about, and I needed to decide what college I was going to for my psychology major. If I was going at all.
But I couldn’t hang around here. If those two goons caught sight of a black-hoodied kid running out of a forest they thought was haunted, well…that’d be an awkward meet ‘n greet.
So I started running back home.
South Dakota, to me, is split into two categories: not boring, and boring.
Unfortunately, I’d been born in the boring part. Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful country, lush and green in the springtime, and the sky sometimes seems like it can go on forever and ever. But this time of year the landscape was struggling to get back some color, with spots of clover and forbs sprouting up and dotting the sides of the roads. What was left of the grass after winter was valiantly trying to break through to the surface. The land was flat, flatter and flattest, and if you found one of the few hills around, you could see for miles.
My feet churned under me, the cold air refreshing in my lungs. In four minutes I had cleared Dale’s boundary at the three-mile mark. Six miles I was nearing my hometown, Maize, South Dakota (Yeah, Maize. Seriously) and hearing the hourly bell toll, and by nine miles I had to slow down, so if people saw me, they wouldn’t see a kid running faster than was humanly possible.
I should probably explain: I’m not normal.
When I was fourteen…things started happening. And I don’t mean puberty, geez. No, something far stranger. And having gone through puberty that’s saying a lot.
One day I woke up and my world had changed. My vision was sharper, colors more vibrant than they’d ever been before. Walking had almost become difficult because my muscles were so strong. I could leap farther, jump higher, move heavy objects that normal humans would find impossible. And my speed…that’s what had scared people the most. It must have been unnerving seeing only a blur and then having me appear by their side. By the time I learned to keep that in check it was too late, and some of the kids in Maize had already grown suspicious.
Had I questioned why I had my abilities? Heck yes. Who wouldn’t? My parents didn’t have them. What I’d searched for on the Internet hadn’t come up with anything except for comic book characters that looked downright silly to me. So I had been forced to come up with explanations on my own. Which led me from thinking I was adopted, to some kind of alien.
Really encouraging stuff for a fourteen-year-old who’s trying to figure out hormonal changes without freaking out the general populace with his crazy powers he can barely control. Maybe there was something in the water. Or the air. Maize was a little more in the middle of nowhere than usual, but then, nobody else had anything like this.
I turned down our gravel road at 1142 Briarsridge Lane. By the time I got to the front door I had easily caught my breath, but continued panting to make it seem like I was winded in case my parents had been watching me walk up the drive.
When all of the weirdness first started happening I tried talking with my parents, but they chalked it up to “Your body’s natural changes” and left it at that. When I subtly hinted that maybe being able to jump ten feet straight up wasn’t how normal kids went through puberty, they only seemed more confused. They loved me, but I hadn’t brought it up since, choosing instead to disguise any instances of abnormality.
I went inside and raided the fridge, grabbing some milk and leftover something that was lurking in the back. It was almost seven fifteen, so mom was gone for her shift at the hospital. I shut the fridge door.
“Drake?” My dad poked his head in from the study room. The curly hair I’d inherited from him was more of a mess this morning, like he’d just rolled out of bed. “What’s happening, kiddo?”
I scooped the leftovers onto a plate, stuck it in the microwave, then sat back on the counter while they were heating up. “Nothing much. Morning run.”
He nodded. “Good one?”
I shrugged. “Same old same old.”
He nodded again. “Glad to hear it. Well I’ve got a client at nine, so why don’t you hurry on up and get ready after you eat and I’ll drive you to school.” He retreated back to his study while I retrieved my food and started shoveling it into my mouth.
My dad was cool. For a dad, I guess. If there was a coolness scale for that sort of thing. He was a financial advisor for farmers, so he knew pretty much everybody around here. When we’d go into town for anything he’d always get caught up talking to one person or another about the latest prices of grain or a new loan for the shiniest piece of farm equipment. Usually the only way to pull him away was to have my mom drag him by his ear.
When I was done eating I hurried upstairs to my room. I kicked aside a dirty pile of clothes and searched for something clean. Though I wasn’t normally excited for school, today was a little different. Today was the day I was asking Missy Vans to prom.
Did she suspect it? No. Did she know I existed? Maybe.
But I was going to do it anyway. For the last couple months I had been figuring out whether or not I had a shot. Missy was a ‘popular’ kid, and I was…well, not as much. She was more into jocks, and I couldn’t play sports, because of the whole enhanced speed and strength thing.
But Missy seemed super nice, and was super pretty, and maybe, just maybe, she’d say yes.
So I made sure to brush my teeth twice, and put on some of dad’s cologne I’d borrowed from downstairs. I checked and rechecked myself in the bathroom mirror, pulled on my favorite black hoodie for luck, grabbed my backpack and returned downstairs. Dad was leaning against the table near our front door, munching on an apple and reading the Wall Street Journal.
He sniffed when I walked up, ready to go.
“What’s that smell?”
“Success. Can we go?”
I’m not terribly proud I have to be driven to school. I mean, I’m eighteen. I have a driver’s license but the only other car besides the one mom drives is a beat up pick up truck that my dad needs to make trips out to clients’ farms. School’s too far to walk. I can run in, but I was already going out of my way to not be more of a freak than usual.
But I liked driving with dad. He turned off our road and we hit the ‘highway’ leading in to Maize, passing rows of farm fields, and lines of lanky trees in the distance. Every now and then a grain elevator popped up, like a chubby rocket ship pointed towards space.
“What are you thinking about, kiddo?” My dad asked. He was looking over at me. I hadn’t realized I had been zoning, staring out the window, thinking about nothing much, except maybe how to approach Missy.
“Stuff,” I said.
He shifted in his seat and turned down the radio. “Well since I have you trapped in here, I thought we could take a second to talk about your college plans.”
I held back a groan. Here it came. The ‘let’s talk about your future’ conversation. It was about as well liked as somebody saying ‘here’s a porcupine. Shove it in your eye!’.
“Now your mom and I know you want to study psychology, which is great, it really is. But, you know, graduation’s coming up, and you haven’t applied to any colleges yet.” He gave me a concerned look. “It’s getting a little late, kiddo. Maybe too late. We wouldn’t mind you hanging around here for a semester. Take some time to think about what you really want and get your head on straight, but you’ve got choices to make.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go to college. I did. Badly. And preferably as far away from Maize, South Dakota as possible.
“Nothing’s really stood out to me,” I said.
“What, are you looking for a sign?” My dad said, waving at a driver passing us the other way. Probably a neighbor. Or anybody in town, really. He knew everyone.
I watched a billboard for toothpaste, seriously, toothpaste, flash by. “Kind of. No, not really. Maybe? I don’t know.”
He nodded like that had made an ounce of sense. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Dad had gone to college straight out of high school. After graduation he’d gotten a temporary position overseas, and that had been where he’d met mom, in London, while taking a vacation break. So he’d ended up staying in London for a while, she’d ended up marrying him, they’d ended up moving to Maize, South Dakota, and both of them wound up with yours truly. I don’t have much of an accent from my British side, which sucks because I heard girls love guys with accents.
“You know, Drake,” my dad said in a voice that meant he was in teaching mode. “College is a glorious time. It’s a place to…to…invent yourself.” He glanced at me to see if I was listening. “I know things have been a little hard for you the last few years,” Understatement of the century, but yeah, we’ll go with that, “but it’s a time to change, you know?”
“I was thinking out of state,” I said.
Our stoplight was coming up. “Not in state, like we talked about?”
“I just feel…I think I need to get some distance. I’d still visit,” I said quickly. “But, if I’m going to ‘invent’, I need to really get away.”
My dad tapped his fingers on the wheel to the rhythm of the truck. We passed the drug store and the hardware shop on the right. “Drake, I’m proud of you for making that decision. And I’ll talk with your mother, but if you can get a scholarship and we can find some way to pay for this, which means actually applying,” he gave me a look, “to schools, then I think that’s okay. You have any particular college in mind?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I’ll get a list soon. Promise.”
“You do that. Bring them to me and we’ll talk about it.” He waved to some more people, lounging around outside of their truck. I saw the tubby and skinny poachers from this morning talking animatedly to a group of men in camo clothes. Some of them were laughing at them. I ducked my head until we passed.
“So…” my dad said, a smug smile creeping on his lips. “Prom’s coming up, isn’t it?”
Thank goodness we were almost to school. “It…might be,” I said.
“Got anyone special in mind?”
“Maybe,” I said evasively.
“Is she cute?”
I couldn’t help chuckling at the ridiculousness of this conversation, and my dad gently smacked me on the back of the head, grinning. “Yeah, yeah dad, she is.”
“Great! Well bring her on home once she says yes. Let your old man embarrass you a bit.”
We pulled in to the drop off lot in front of school and I leapt out before the conversation could get any more awkward. I waved behind me. My dad rolled down the window.
“I’ll tell your mom to get out your baby photos,” he called. “Especially the one of you naked in the—”
“Dad!” A couple people were staring. My dad smirked, rolled up the window and zoomed off, the truck leaving a hint of black smoke behind it.
I’d kill him later.