After talking with Mia about Halloween and seeing her disappointment, I thought it would be time to change and possibly dress up this year. Not that I wanted to, because Derek caught her with Mark and Max, but I assumed it was just a hangout Mark forced her into going to that day.
I dove into my closet, searching through piles of clothing, and came across my old baseball jersey from two years ago. A white shirt with grass and dirt stains covered the black and gray wolf logo. They called us the Phoenix Wolves, and the team dubbed me Hercules for my powerful home runs. That was an understatement because of my superpowers that, at least, the coach didn't know about for a while.
I slipped off my dark teal top and pulled the jersey over my head. It bulged a little but fit like a glove. I dove back into a pile, pulling out my old pair of pants matching the jersey and a couple of cleats. My feet had grown since I played baseball, so I didn't bother with the cleats. I would wear high tops instead.
"Oh, you found your old baseball clothing." Derek appeared in the doorway with a grin.
"Is it a good idea to dress up for Halloween?" I asked.
Derek chuckled. "Why not?" he challenged.
"It's been ten years since I put on a costume, and I want to ensure I'm not too old?"
"You're never too old. Besides, when you put on your hoodie and save the day, that's your costume."
"I don't want to think of it like that, " I groaned. I never always wished to think of a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers as a costume. I felt like Derek persuaded me to wear my birthday suit publicly.
"If you're going to wear a costume, go for it, " Derek encouraged, pulling me away from my thoughts.
I sighed. "It's just," I breathed deeply, profoundly, and sighed. "Mia thought it was a good idea for me to dress up. Since I got my powers, I haven't done it, and I thought it would be fun." "Then do it," Derek enticed. I nodded.
"That jersey looks good on you," he added. I grinned.
"It's a little tight," I admitted.
"That's because your superhuman strength is maturing. You're not the same boy you were from when you were fourteen-year-old," Derek confessed.
What a great way to say puberty hits hard. But he was right. While I went through puberty as a teenager, so did my powers. I was much stronger than I was two years ago. " I guess I won't be wearing this then," I moaned.
"Good," Derek chimed. "I have some patrolling to do. If you want to come and help, you can tag along, but first, change. You were right. That shirt looks tight on you," he paused in thought. "And put on your hoodie."
I withered against my bed. I guess it was back to the drawing board with my costume. I pulled my Jersey back over my head, and Derek grinned. "Damn, " Derek cursed, glancing at my six-pack-abs. I grabbed my shirt from the floor and threw it on quickly.
"Let's go, " I pushed.
Derek grimaced. "Hoodie," He reminded me. I grabbed a random hood from the pile of clothing on my floor and walked past Derek, shoving him on my bed.
"Ouch," he whined. He was such a baby. That didn't hurt.
"I'll be in the car." I scoffed, racing down the steps and out the door. Derek followed.
∆∆∆
I was floating high in the sky, carrying a cat next to a tree in my hands. I tried everything to quiet it down, but it seemed adamant. The cat bolted when I landed on solid ground, leaving me with a few hairline scratches on my arms that faded.
I appeared next to Derek's car, parked along the road. Derek was on his phone, oblivious to the cars passing by. I tapped on the window, and Derek sat up, startled, and rolled it down. I stood there with a smug smile on my lips.
"License and Registration?" I mocked.
Derek laughed. "Don't sneak up on people like that. How long have you been standing there?"
"Only a few minutes," I admitted.
"Where's the cat?"
"About a block from here. I let it go already." I pointed off into the distance.
"Good, get in the car." he rushed me in. I walked over to the other side of the car and slid into the passenger seat, slamming the door and crushing the handle. Derek winced.
"Damn it, James." I shrugged.
Garrett Reignson informed over the radio that a ten-minute brawl had broken out between two boys at a supermarket shop only minutes from where Derek and I had stopped. Derek activated the sirens and sped down the street, meeting with two little boys in the parking lot. As we pulled in, they stopped, staring at Derek and me. Derek pulled open his door and headed over to the boy's closed closet while I opened mine to let in some fresh air.
"Why are we fighting? " Derek interrogated a broad hazel-eyed boy sitting against the concrete wall near the store entrance. The boy pulled a gun from his waistband, and Derek grabbed his taser.
"Relax," the hazel-eyed boy soothed. "One super left this behind, and we were fighting over who would turn it in. We heard there was a reward."
"Who did you hear that from?" Derek solicited. A blonde boy raised his hand, pointing to the board behind him.
"There was a flier there until it blew away minutes ago. It didn't give a wonderful picture or description, but it said F.B.I. in big letters."
Derek groaned. "You believed it?" He asked. The boys nodded.
"It gave numbers to call if there were any sightings of a super. He was here, watching from a distance, gazing at the blurred photo of himself, hours ago, with this gun." The boy gestured to the weapon.
"What were the numbers?" Derek urged. The boys froze in thought.
"Something like 2812, 2801, and something else, but I can't remember." The blonde boy recited.
"I think it was 2810 and 2804 or something like that," the other boy alleged. Derek took notes on his digital police pad and plucked the gun from the boy's hands, pulling the safety latch shut. I slumped against the back of the seat.
"You shouldn't be playing with guns, boys. Firearms are dangerous and are only legal to the authorities. There is no warrant issued for anyone and no reward. I need you boys to leave before I call your parents." The boys' chins melted into their palms.
"Aren't you young, too?" the blonde boy asked. Derek's eyes wandered.
"I'm twenty years old," he noted. The two boys looked disappointed.
"So, we're not under arrest? " The hazel-eyed boy interrogated?
"No, you're not."
"Is he under arrest? " The hazel-eyed boy spoke again, gesturing to me.
"Have a nice day, boys. I have to get back to my job." Derek ignored the boys, walked back to his car, listened to the boys fight over something else, and shut the door. I grimaced.
"I got numbers, but it's not a cell phone number."
"What happened?" I assessed. Derek's eyes widened as he turned on the engine and showed me the locked gun.
"This was Max. There was a flier, and the numbers were perhaps codes or something. Whatever it was, we need to speak to Noah again--"
"That's if he wants to," I added. "Since his arrest, he has said little to me, but he's tried. So, I thought maybe Sam knew something about this. Perhaps he will help us?"
"Good point. If we can get him to talk, we can get some information from him. My shift should end in an hour, so we have time to ponder questions." Derek stated. I agreed, but they worried me. Unless Sam held back information we needed to know, we were back to square one. I needed to push it out of him. Force him out of his comfort zone while I work up to questions about his old work. I could do it with Derek's help, which we did later that day.
∆∆∆
Sam, Derek, and I were down in the Laboratory. Derek, dressed in uniform, leaned against the basement opening, and I chilled, dressed in my hoodie, against the wall. Sam offered to give us any information about the case if we kept it quiet.
"What do the numbers mean, Sam?" Derek asked. His pad was open but promised no notes. Derek didn't want to upload anything he typed on his digital tablet to the Phoenix Police Department database, which was the opposite of what we wanted.
"They are serial numbers given to the supers. The first two digits stand for the year, and the last two for their number. A group called the 'Superhuman Prodigy Project for Youth' focused on young children and turned them into superhuman soldiers."
"You were a part of this?" Derek quarreled.
"It was a job, and I didn't want to work for them. The group threatened you, your father, and your mother if I didn't work for them."
"What stopped you from working for them?" I asked Sam. He looked up from his computer.
"It was you. When your accident happened, the government freed me from my work so that nothing else could go wrong, and their secret findings were safe within the government walls. I didn't tell them about you because I didn't want them to take you from your mother and father."
"That's great," I mumbled with an eye roll. "Is there anything else you left out, Sam?"
"I told you I would explain it when it comes?" Sam snarled.
"How many more kids were in the facility?" Derek urged him on. Sam sighed, folding his laptop in half.
"There were at least twenty before they shut down the program. The other scientists branded the supers on their upper chest with invisible, raised ink."
"If they branded Max and Noah's chests, could one number Derek wrote be theirs?" I questioned.
"I'm not sure. I oversaw research and the development of the supergene. I rarely saw my kids, but I believe Max, Noah, and Bryce were older than the other boys. They did not get branded during that time.
"Were these kids kidnapped or something?" I interrogated Sam again, staring him down from a distance. He amazed me every time he shared something about his old work.
"They were test-tube babies born from artificial insemination. I was young and forced into contributing." I cursed in my head. That was a big, unexpected, or something.
"So, you're saying Max and Noah might be your kids?" Derek snapped. I took a seat on the floor.
"Yeah, the three boys I mentioned are my kids," Sam admitted. Max and Noah could be my cousins. That was shocking,
"Why didn't you say anything about this before?" I questioned him again, but his answer was the same.
"I told you I would explain everything to you when the time was right," Derek grumbled something under his breath and pulled off the wall.
"Come on, James. I have to get back to work." I glanced at Sam, but he ushered me back up the steps.
"Go with your brother, James." He spoke. I pushed off the floor, following Derek, flustered in rage now, furious that his uncle would be a part of something like that, as he walked up the basement steps.
I was a little mad at myself. How could I trust Sam, who protected me and my secret from everyone, and not tell Derek and me about this sooner?
If it was a safety matter, why stay quiet about it now? We were Sam's family. It angered me that Sam kept things like this a secret, even if he was my uncle and I could protect him. If Max or Noah were my cousins, why were they trying to hurt us? Sam knew what he was doing, but I wasn't sure what to think as I wandered back up the basement steps.
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