The First Superhero (Book 2): The Siege of the Supers Read online

  THE SIEGE OF THE SUPERS

  THE FIRST SUPERHERO, BOOK TWO

  LOGAN RUTHERFORD

  WWW.AUTHORLOGANRUTHERFORD.COM

  Contents

  Copyright

  Free Stuff!

  Part One: The Return of Tempest

  1. The Man at the Door

  2. Crash Landing

  3. Homecoming

  4. Q&A

  5. Floor 24

  6. Comeback

  7. Teamwork

  8. Timber

  9. The Top of the Tower

  10. Ghosts

  Part Two: The Rise of a Hero

  11. Riptide

  12. The Statue

  13. The First Day

  14. S&T, LLC

  15. Weak Secrets

  16. Party Crashers 2.0

  17. Theories

  18. Speech Therapy

  19. Second Chances

  20. Enhanced Interrogation

  21. Shocking Revelations

  22. Standoff

  23. Heavy Silence

  24. The Docks

  25. Purple Venus

  26. The Name of a Hero

  27. Welcome to the STF

  28. Doctors Orders

  29. Familiar Voices

  30. Brawl

  31. Promises

  32. Brainstorms

  33. Friendly Fighting

  34. Pseudonyms

  35. Enter the Dome

  36. The First Battle

  37. Escape

  38. The Name of the Enemy

  Part Three: The Siege of the Supers

  39. Waking Up

  40. Detour

  41. Hello World

  42. Only the Beginning

  43. Called Out

  44. Introductions

  45. Full Circle

  46. Clouded Judgment

  47. The Siege Begins

  48. Tag Team

  49. Home Field Disadvantage

  50. Red Steps

  51. Regroup

  52. The Siege of Dallas

  53. Reinforcements

  54. Just the Beginning

  55. Ultimatum

  56. Down but Not Out

  The War Begins

  Mailing List = Free Stuff

  Also by Logan Rutherford

  About the Author

  The Siege of the Supers © 2015 by Logan Rutherford

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Art by Damonza (www.damonza.com)

  Copyedited and Proofread by Carol Davis (www.caroldavisauthor.com)

  Fragments & Fictions

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  PART I:

  The Return of Tempest

  1

  THE MAN AT THE DOOR

  September 20th, 2078

  AGENT CASSIDY OPENED the front door to the Tempest Memorial Museum and saw Leopold Renner standing there, clutching at the bloody bullet wounds in his torso.

  “Leopold!” she breathed as she bent down to catch the man as he slumped to the ground. She brought a finger up to her earpiece. “Mayday, mayday. This is Agent Cassidy speaking. Epsilon is down. I repeat, Epsilon is down. Requesting extraction immediately.”

  Agent Cassidy dragged Leopold into the foyer of the museum, shutting the door behind her. She locked it, then returned to Leopold’s side. His heavy, wet breathing struck panic into Cassidy with every breath. She put pressure on the wounds, doing her best to stop the bleeding.

  Leopold grabbed Cassidy with a bloody hand. She looked into his crazed eyes, unsure of what more to do. She was trained on how to take a life, not save one. She didn’t have the tools necessary to keep him alive. All she could do was hope extraction would come soon. She clicked her earpiece again. “I repeat, mayday, immediate extraction requisition. Epsilon is do—”

  “Y-y-you’re n-not Mrs. Andr—”

  “—Leopold, stop speaking. We’re gonna get you out of this, okay?” Cassidy said.

  Leopold nodded his head. His eyes focused on the ceiling as he concentrated on his breathing.

  “Hello?” Cassidy screamed into her earpiece. “Epsilon is dying here!”

  “Agent Cassidy?” a voice said.

  Her heart fluttered. “Damien?”

  “Yes. Omaha Delta Foxtrot nine five.”

  “Charlie Alpha Omaha five two.”

  “Identity confirmed. Cassidy, we’re under attack up here. We’re trying to get to you as fast as we can. Whatever you do, keep Epsilon alive. We’re doing what we can on our end. We’re trying to get to you as fast as we can, but we’re taking heavy fire.”

  “Damien, I don’t know how much ti—”

  “—Cassidy I have to g—oh, shit!”

  An explosion came through the radio. “Damien!” Cassidy screamed.

  “Cassidy! Get out of there!”

  The line went dead.

  “Damien? Damien?” Cassidy spoke into the earpiece. Nothing but silence.

  “When are you all going to learn that I hate red? It just doesn’t look good on me,” a familiar voice spoke from across the room.

  Agent Cassidy looked up. Standing in front of the crimson Tempest headpiece stood the man himself. Nineteen-year-old Kane Andrews turned and faced her.

  “Hey there, Cass,” he said with a sly smile. He was wearing a red t-shirt under a tan leather jacket, and a dark pair of jeans. Very different from what she usually saw him in—his Tempest outfit.

  Cassidy stood, and instinctively thrust her arm out to her side, activating her powers. But the purple lighting didn’t course across her arms like it usually did. In fact, nothing at all happened.

  Kane chuckled. “Aw, that was kinda pathetic.”

  Cassidy cursed herself silently for looking like a fool in front of Kane. “What do you want, Kane?”

  Kane took a step forward. “I’m taking Leopold. Stand aside, Cassidy. I don’t want to have to fight you.”

  Cassidy planted her feet in front of Leopold. “You’re not taking him anywhere. Epsilon is property of the UHA.”

  Kane continued walking forward, still confident. “Help isn’t coming, Cassidy. My people are keeping yours occupied. You know very well what we’re capable of.”

  “You know very well what I’m capable of, Kane,” Cassidy said.

  “I know very well,” Kane said with a smile.

  She thought back to the last time they’d fought. It hadn’t ended well for Kane, and he clearly remembered that.

  “But your powers don’t work here, Cassidy.”

  “Neither do yours. We’re even.” She moved into a fighting stance. “You’re not taking Epsilon.”

  Kane sighed. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

  Cassidy said nothing.

  “Very well.”

  She lunged at Kane before he was
ready, and planted her fist in his cheek. He stumbled back, but put his hands up to block her next punch.

  Now he was ready, and their fight began.

  2

  CRASH LANDING

  January 24th, 2016

  MY EYES CRACKED open as I inhaled a deep breath.

  “Oh, shit, he’s awake!” I heard someone shout into their radio over the loud roar of an engine.

  “Hit ’em with neutralizer! I’m almost at the landing strip!”

  My eyes shot open. Facing me were two people wearing uniforms with NASA insignia badges on the chest.

  Time slowed as an arc of purple electricity came right for my chest. My instincts took over.

  I shot straight back, the purple electricity barely missing me, and slammed into the rear of the aircraft. The back half of the plane flew off when I impacted, and I shot out into the night sky.

  I went tumbling through the air, dodging objects that were being sucked out of the hole in the plane. I could see the people inside holding on for dear life as I righted myself in the air, gaining my composure.

  “We’re going down!” the pilot shouted.

  The plane began spiraling toward the ground. The plane had a weird shape to it… and that’s when I realized it wasn’t a plane. It was a space shuttle.

  I watched it as it continued to fall. My mind was hazy, and my body ached. I looked at my surroundings, and couldn’t see a thing. It was pitch black, and the farther away the crashing space shuttle fell, the more quiet it got.

  Soon, the only sound I could hear was my own breathing. I hovered in the air, trying to put together the pieces. Trying to figure out what was going on.

  The screams of the people in the shuttle reached my ears, jolting me into action.

  I’m Kane Andrews. I’m Tempest. I’m a superhero. And even though I wasn’t sure what was going on, I had a job to do.

  I flew toward the space shuttle as it spiraled toward the ground. There was a pop behind me as I broke the sound barrier, traveling faster and faster toward my target.

  The shuttle lit up the night sky, flames shooting out from the hole I’d created. I flew toward it at super speed, the wind whipping past, filling me with life. Everything was becoming clearer and clearer.

  I slowed as I reached the shuttle. I flew through the back of it and grabbed the two people who had been sitting next to the bed they’d had me strapped into.

  I flew back out, the flames from the shuttle licking my skin. The people I held—a man and a woman—screamed as I flew toward the ground. I flew fast, as I was going to have to go back up to the shuttle and get the remaining astronauts, and the shuttle was getting closer and closer to the ground.

  I hit the ground as softly and gracefully as I could, and set the two people down in a large wheat field. I jumped up, flying right back into action.

  In the time it took me to save the first two people, the shuttle had increased the speed of its descent, and it was now just a few hundred feet from slamming into the ground.

  I flew as fast as I could, the stalks of wheat in the field below blown back as I hit supersonic speed not far from the ground.

  The shuttle was hundreds of yards away, but I reached it in a matter of seconds. I flew in and grabbed the pilot and co-pilot from their seats as they struggled to gain control of the shuttle.

  We were just a few stories above the ground, seconds away from slamming into it and turning into a huge fireball.

  I flew out of the shuttle, moving away from it as fast as I could—but I was unable to reach top speed since my passengers wouldn’t be able to handle it.

  I turned my back to the shuttle and did the best I could to shield the pilots with my body.

  The shuttle hit the ground in a massive explosion. My supersensitive eardrums ruptured with a pop, and blood trickled from them. I felt my body immediately get to work repairing them. The flames licked at my back, followed closely by black smoke.

  I continued to fly away toward the field. I found where I’d dropped off the first two astronauts and dropped their pilots off with them. They were radioing for help when I returned. They all looked at me, dumbfounded and afraid.

  “Is help coming for you?” I asked, shaking my vocal cords to disguise my voice.

  The female astronaut nodded as she pointed at the radio on her belt.

  I wanted to say something more, like a one-liner or something. But I didn’t have the energy. My mind still felt hazy, and my body ached. All I wanted was to clear my mind.

  I turned away from the four astronauts, leaving them in the wheat field. I flew over the flaming wreckage of the space shuttle, and toward the most peaceful place I knew.

  That place was Ebon, Indiana. Home.

  * * *

  I SCANNED the area around my home outside of Ebon. There was no sign of any government agents or surveillance. Relief washed through me. They hadn’t figured out my identity. Any DNA samples they’d taken from me en route from the Moon to Earth had been destroyed in the crash, which meant when it came to figuring out who Tempest was, they were still at square one. At least, that’s what I told myself. They surely had pictures of my face, and those images had to have been transmitted back to NASA. Still, there was no one around my home, so I was safe for now.

  I flew down softly and slowly to the back door of our two-story house. I twisted the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran around to the front door and tried opening it, but it was locked as well.

  I sighed as I knocked on the door. This would be the one time my parents wouldn’t be mad at me for returning home in the middle of the night.

  I heard movement on the other side of the door. My heart beat faster and faster. Even though to me it seemed like no time had passed, I felt a longing for my parents hit me like a punch from Richter. The last time I’d seen them had been before my big battle, and I wanted nothing more than to see them again. I could only imagine how they felt after not seeing me for—I realized I didn’t even know how long I’d been gone. What if I’d been gone for a long time? Like, years? How much would my parents have changed? What if they’d forgotten about me?

  Anxiety replaced my longing. I cursed under my breath at Dad for taking so long to answer the door.

  The knob twisted, and the door opened.

  My heart skipped a beat. Heat rushed to my head. I thought I was about to pass out.

  “You’re not my dad.”

  3

  HOMECOMING

  I LOOKED into the eyes of the old man standing at the door of my home.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked in a tired tone. The wisps of grey hair on his head were frizzy and disheveled. He stared at me with angry, tired eyes.

  “Who the hell are you? Where’s Andy Andrews?” I asked, my throat drying. I felt dizzy and sick. I looked around behind the old man, searching for any sign of my parents. From what I could see, the walls had been repainted a cream color, not the maroon I was used to.

  “Andy hasn’t lived here for months,” the man said. He was becoming more and more lucid, which meant he was more and more angry and perturbed. “I don’t know who you think you are, or who you think I am, but you’d best get out of here before I call the cops.”

  I was bewildered. At a loss for words, I began to back up.

  “Hey, wait a second. What’s that you got on?” the old man asked.

  I looked down. Even though it was tattered, torn, and faded, you could clearly tell it was my Tempest outfit. I didn’t know what to do.

  The gears began to turn in the man’s head as he began to put the pieces together.

  “This isn’t—I’m not—” I began.

  “Frank? Who is it, Frank?” I heard the voice of an elderly woman say in the background. I looked behind Frank and saw a short old woman peering around the corner at the end of the foyer. Her hair was pinned up and she was wearing a pink silk nightgown that she clutched in fear.

  Her eyes went wide when she saw me standing there. I could hear her heartbe
at skip and then speed up. I could see her knuckles whiten as she gripped her nightgown with all her might, even from where I was standing outside the front door.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” I said.

  Frank looked me up and down. “I saw you in pictures when we toured the place. You’re Andy’s kid. You’re Temp—”

  The old man’s eyes lit up, and he stumbled. I ran to his side and caught him before he could hit the ground, and brought him down gently.

  “What are you doing?” the old lady screamed. “What are you doing to my hu—”

  The same thing happened to her, and I ran across the room, catching her too.

  “What’s going on?” I said. The old man and woman were lying on the ground, their eyes glowing, breathing heavily.

  The light in both their eyes faded, and the glowing stopped. Their eyes closed, and I could hear them breathing softly.

  “Uh, hello? Can you hear me?” a familiar female voice said in my head.

  Samantha? I thought.

  “I’m gonna assume you’re trying to think what you’re saying. Yeah, you’re going to have to talk out loud. I can’t read your mind. I can just see, smell, feel, and hear everything you can.”

  “Can you tell me what’s going on with this couple?” I asked frantically. “Something’s wrong, I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just relax. I’m wiping the last few minutes of their memories. Let me tell you, that’s really hard to do. My head is pounding, so I’ll be leaving your mind now. Just get to the Los Angeles Self Storage by the UCLA campus. I’m in storage unit 306. I’ll try to explain what I can when you get here.”

  I nodded my head. Then I realized that she probably couldn’t catch that. “Oh. I just nodded my head.”

  “Yeah, I got that. See-smell-feel-hear.”

  “Right. That makes things easier.”

  I stood and picked up the old lady and returned her to her bed.

  Samantha popped back into my head as I was picking up Frank. “Oh, and bring some aspirin. This headache is a killer.”

  * * *

  I LANDED in front of Los Angeles Self Storage at 3:23 in the morning. The building was a three-story-tall, climate controlled self-storage building. The street in front of it was devoid of people and cars, which worried me. There weren’t even any cars parked out on the street. It seemed to me that people weren’t ready to move back into big cities yet, despite the Richter problem having been taken care of. Maybe not enough time had passed? When I thought about it, I realized that I still didn’t know how long I’d been gone. I had no idea how much time had passed, and that worried me.