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  It was time for me to put an end to Richter once and for all.

  Richter’s Game

  I flew toward Indianapolis and reached the city limits in a matter of seconds. I flew to where I had seen Richter last, above some of the skyscrapers downtown. I flew down to street level, and was struck by how eerily quiet things were.

  Most people had fled the city and were in shelters in various parts of the state, like the one in Ebon High School. It was a weird disconnect, being in such a large city that was usually bustling with activity, yet it was completely silent, save for the wind blowing some papers and other garbage across the ground.

  I scanned the surroundings, searching for Richter. There was no sign of him anywhere.

  “How are you today, Tempest?” His mocking voice echoed loudly around the empty city streets.

  It sounded louder to my right, however, and I ran over there in a split second, hoping I’d be able to catch him before he moved.

  I was too late, as evidenced by the next round of insults that seemed to come from the other end of the street.

  “Too slow, Tempest.” Every time he said my name, it was like an insult. As if the words were poison in his mouth, and he had to spit them out before they killed him. “Too inferior.”

  I ran to the other side of the street as fast as I could, hoping to prove him wrong. I was still too slow, though; as I reached the other side, I saw a blur disappear through the broken window of one of the nearby skyscrapers.

  I launched into the air and flew through the window. I found myself inside a dark office building. Cubicles lined the room as far as the eye could see.

  Richter flew past me in a blur, hitting me hard to the floor as he flew out the broken window the two of us had just come through.

  I pushed myself up off the ground with a grunt. I looked out of the building and could see Richter in the building across the street, standing behind an unbroken window, waving at me. A sly, mocking smile crept across his face.

  I felt rage and frustration boil up inside me. I launched out of the building and flew across the street as fast as I could. I didn’t slow down as I reached the window, but right before I burst through it, Richter disappeared in a blur.

  The window shattered and I landed on the floor, glass raining down around me. I tried my best not to yell in frustration, not wanting to show Richter any sign that he was winning, even though he most definitely already knew he was. I wasn’t giving up, though. Not when the government wanted to experiment on me to figure out how to defeat him.

  I turned and jumped out of the building, and fell several stories. I landed on the ground with a hard thud. “Why don’t you come out here and stop running like a child!” I shouted, my voice carrying throughout the empty streets. It was so loud, I even surprised myself.

  “Oh, Tempest. Everyone says when they’re older that they wish they could be a kid again! I may be acting like a child, but children have fun. And you’ve gotta admit—” Richter paused. The next words weren’t an echo in the street, but a whisper in my ear. “This is fun.”

  Richter struck me in the back, sending me flying into a nearby car. The metal crushed beneath the force of my momentum. I pushed myself up off the car as fast as I could and landed on my feet, ready for a fight.

  Another blow came from my left, sending me flying down the street and skidding across the asphalt. I felt my Tempest suit tear from the friction, and my skin burned as it began to rub away. I pushed my hands down to stop myself and stood up. I felt a coolness on my hands and back as my flesh and skin began to quickly heal.

  Richter’s next move was a mistake, as he began to get cocky. He thought he could run directly at me, and was going to try and get in a punch to my face.

  I saw his blur coming and ducked down just in time, extending my arm, clotheslining him. He let out a grunt in pain and fright and went tumbling through two cars before coming to a stop on a third.

  My arm healed itself as I ran to where he was lying on the car. This time he was too slow, and I picked him up by his blue and white striped shirt and threw him through the skyscraper to my right.

  Richter went flying through the wall, and I was close behind. I flew through the holes he created in the building before he began to fall to the ground. He slid across it, breaking it up into a deep trench. He finally came to a stop in the street on the other side of the building.

  I was on top of him as soon as he stopped, and punched him a few more times in the face, letting out all my rage and frustration, while at the same time feeling euphoric from the fact that I was winning.

  Except I wasn’t.

  He grabbed my fist before I could punch him again and knocked it away, causing my fist to embed in the ground next to his head. He let out a yell as he punched my trapped arm, causing it to break clean in half.

  I yelled in pain as the bone and flesh began to stitch itself back together. Even though it only took a few seconds before I was fine again, that was more than enough time for Richter.

  He jumped on top of me, taking me to the ground. He hit me a couple of times in the face so hard that it sent shockwaves through the street. “You’re going to pay for that!” he yelled as loud as he could. So loud that windows in the buildings around us shattered and glass began to rain down on us.

  Richter grabbed me and picked me up. He launched into the air, and before I could even react, he’d flown a hundred miles away.

  He changed his course, and suddenly the two of us were flying straight down. I turned my head just in time to see that we were flying straight toward the roof of Ebon High School, with no sign of slowing down.

  We exploded through the roof of the gymnasium, rubble flying everywhere. The terrified screams of innocent people reached my ears. Richter and I crashed into the ground, causing a large crater to appear. The screams of terror turned to sickening screams of pain as rubble from the roof fell on top of the people who’d cried out.

  Richter pushed himself off me and hovered above my body. Dust filled the air, dancing in the beams of sunlight that filtered in through the open ceiling. I couldn’t move. Once again, my spine had been severed and I was paralyzed. I could feel it cracking and moving as my body worked to repair itself.

  Even if I’d had the ability to move, I wouldn’t have been able to. I would have been paralyzed by shock.

  Because lying just a few feet away from me was a dead body. He had been crushed by a large piece of the gymnasium roof. His eyes were open and they stared at me, filled with shock.

  I felt my fingers move. I had control of my body again. I didn’t turn to attack Richter, however. I continued to lie there. I let out a scream as tears began to fall from my eyes.

  Because it wasn’t just anybody who’d died and was lying inches away from me.

  It was Michael.

  I got up. I had to help him. I had to get him to a hospital, even though a little voice in my head told me it was too late.

  I was pushed back to the ground. Richter had his hand on my head and was forcing me to look into Michael’s dead eyes.

  “Look at him, Tempest,” he said. “Look at him!”

  I thought I was going to throw up. “Michael, no. No, Michael, no,” I whispered.

  “He’s dead because of you.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Yes, Tempest.”

  “NO!” I shouted. I tried to fight against Richter, but his grip was too tight, and growing tighter by the second.

  “Yes! This is what happens when you don’t play along. This is what happens when you’re out of your league.” Richter got down next to my face. “How does it feel, Tempest? How does it feel to be the bad guy?”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

  Richter let go of me. “Think about it, Tempest. Then let’s see how well you play next time.” With that, he flew up and out through the hole we’d created in the ceiling.

  I got up from the ground and picked up the rubble that was on top of Michael. I threw it into the
air, out the hole in the ceiling. Then I picked up Michael’s lifeless body in my arms and ran out of the school as fast as I could.

  I reached the hospital in less than a second. I found myself standing in the Emergency Room screaming, “SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

  Doctors and nurses came running to see what was going on. They all froze in fear when they saw who was standing there.

  So instead, I ran to them. They all let out a gasp as I suddenly appeared in front of one of the doctors, a tall woman with graying hair.

  “Please,” I pleaded as I handed Michael over to her. “Please.”

  But deep down, I knew that I was already too late.

  Crossroads

  I landed hard in the clearing I’d found deep within the woods. I pulled back my mask, letting it hang behind me like the hood portion of a hoodie. I fell to my knees and let out a frustrated scream. I screamed so loud, I felt my throat begin to tear and repair itself. Birds flew away and other wildlife ran in fear.

  I fell to the ground. My whole body felt numb, and my mind was lethargic. I couldn’t think about anything. All I could do was feel. Angry, frustrated, sad, full of hate. Those emotions coursed through me. They were paralyzing.

  I couldn’t believe it. Richter had defeated me yet again, and at the cost of the life of my best friend. Precious Michael. Such a sweet person. Always overshadowed in our circle of friends by Drew, yet always appreciated. I felt tears begin to form in my eyes. I lay on the ground, the grass pressing against my face. The tears fell and watered the grass with their salty poison.

  But the longer I lay there, the more my attention turned to one emotion in particular: rage. My body began to shake, the ferocity of the emotion coursing through my body like a roaring river.

  I jumped up from the ground and with a yell charged into a tree at the edge of the clearing. The tree thundered and splintered with a loud crack. It fell to the ground with a satisfying thud, and somehow, I felt a little bit better.

  I wound up for another swing and hit the tree to my left as hard as I could. It, too, fell to the ground, relieving some of my frustration as it fell.

  I was about to take another tree out as my frustration and rage began to turn to glee, but something made me stop. A feeling in my gut that I couldn’t quite ignore. A feeling that told me what I was doing was wrong.

  I fell back to the ground and looked at the two trees I’d killed. I don’t know why, but I felt guilty. Not exactly because I’d knocked down two trees, but because I felt as if I’d fallen to Richter’s level. Richter was the one who’d gone down the path of destruction, not me. I couldn’t bring myself down to his level.

  Still, even though I didn’t agree with him, even though I despised what he was doing, and knew it was wrong, I understood why. And that terrified me.

  If I felt the way I was feeling after Michael’s death, I could only imagine how it must’ve felt for Richter after his entire family had been slaughtered. Suddenly, things began to make a lot more sense.

  I found myself at a crossroads. The same crossroads I was sure that Richter had found himself at.

  That day, in that clearing, was when I chose the path I would go down. I wouldn’t go down the one Richter had chosen. His family had died because he was a destructive, homicidal maniac, and once they were dead, Richter had gotten even worse. He’d killed and destroyed even more. His family had died in vain.

  I promised myself that Michael’s death wouldn’t be in vain. I wasn’t going to cause any more pain or destruction. I stood up and took in a deep breath. I remembered what Michael had said a few days ago as I drove him home from the party. He’d said that he wished he could be Tempest—that he could be me. That he would do a better job, and he’d get things done.

  I promised myself that I would be the person that Michael had wanted to be. The hero he’d wanted to be.

  But just because I’d resolved to be a hero didn’t mean I was one yet. I had a long way to go. But that day in the clearing, I chose my path on the crossroads.

  I chose Michael’s path.

  I chose the path of the hero.

  A New Resolve

  Michael’s funeral was a few days later. I sat in the third row of chairs at the funeral home, staring at the closed casket. I imagined Michael lying inside of it, his eyes closed in an eternal sleep. I wished it would have been an open casket funeral, though. I would’ve loved to see Michael’s face one last time, so my last memory of him would be of him looking peaceful. Now for the rest of my life, my last memory of him would be how terrified he had looked as the debris crushed him. Debris that was there because I couldn’t defeat Richter.

  Macy’s hand tightened around mine, breaking me from my train of thought. I looked to my right where she was sitting, and her sad eyes looked up at me. She said nothing, but her face said what wasn’t spoken. It was filled with sorrow, but she tried to force a smile in order to cheer me up.

  It made me fall in love with her that much more, but at the same time, it made me feel even more guilty. I’d resolved that I wouldn’t let Michael’s death be in vain; that it would mean something. That helped with the guilt factor a lot. But seeing all the sorrow and pain in the packed funeral home was suffocating. I felt like I’d go crazy if I had to see one more sad face, or hear one more person try to hide their sobbing.

  I looked to my left at Drew, who was sitting next to me. He was staring straight forward, and of all things, he looked angry. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but knew it’d be inappropriate.

  The funeral lasted another twenty minutes, and once it was over with, everybody began to pile into their cars to drive to the graveside. Drew, Macy, and I decided to ride together in my car, even though Drew and I had ridden to the funeral with our parents, and Macy with her sister.

  We sat in the car in silence, following the endless parade of cars as I drove us to the cemetery.

  Finally, Drew said something. “Does this feel real to you guys?”

  Macy shook her head. “Not at all.”

  I said nothing. This all was too real for me.

  “So many people dead,” Macy said. “All thanks to Richter. I never thought Michael would be one of them.”

  Drew fumed with anger in the backseat. “Not just thanks to him, thanks to Tempest, too.”

  “Tempest was only trying to help. You can’t blame him,” Macy said.

  She was half right, half wrong. I was only trying to help, but I did deserve the blame.

  “Oh, shut up, Macy. You’re just blinded because Tempest made his big debut saving your ass. He might have saved you, but he also killed Michael. Just because the scales are balanced doesn’t mean we have to let him off.”

  Macy scoffed. “He didn’t go out of his way to kill Michael. It was Richter. He’s the one you should blame. He’s the one you should get mad at, not me.”

  Drew let out a condescending snort. “You don’t get it. But I don’t expect you to. You don’t understand. You only knew Michael for a couple of months. Kane and I have known him our whole lives. Don’t act like you were his best friend.”

  Macy said nothing in response. She just turned her head to look out the window, trying to hide the tears that were now flowing. Drew’s words had cut her deep. I looked in the rearview mirror and prepared to shoot Drew a look that said, What the hell?! but he, too, had his attention focused on the trees that passed us by as we drove out of Ebon.

  I sighed and turned my attention back to the road. I didn’t have the mental stamina to try to even begin to process the fight Drew and Macy had just gotten into. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I wanted to forget it and pretend it had never happened. But I couldn’t. The words exchanged between the two of them would haunt me for a good long while.

  I SAT ON THE LIVING room couch, staring at the ceiling. Mom, Dad, and I had just gotten back from the funeral, so we were all still processing everything. Mom and Dad had tried to talk to me about what had happened a few times, but I wasn’t ready to talk about i
t, and they understood. They didn’t push me, and for that I was thankful.

  I was trying to think about Michael, to remember some of the good times the two of us had had in order to cheer myself up. But no matter how hard I tried not to, all I could think about was the argument between Drew and Macy. And, in particular, one thing that Drew had said. He’d spoken about all the lives lost thanks to Richter. My mind couldn’t help but linger on that thought.

  There were so many Michaels in the world, dead because of Richter. So many Drews and Macys, torn apart inside because of the death of a loved one. Not only that, but friendships ripping at the seams as well. I couldn’t imagine how his parents and other family members felt.

  So much pain and suffering, all because of Richter. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many people had had to go through what we were going through because of Richter. Because of his grief and madness.

  That’s when it came to me. I felt passion for this new resolve burn inside of me. I realized that I had to defeat Richter, not just to protect my family, not to save myself from the government, and not because I was the only one who actually had a chance to win. No, I had to stop Richter for the sake of all the Michaels, Macys, Drews, and Kanes of the world. I had to stop all the pain and suffering he was causing, and I didn’t realize that until I felt the pain and suffering myself.

  The best way to end the pain and suffering I felt, and to keep anyone else from feeling the same way, was by providing closure. And the only way that would happen was by defeating Richter.

  I knew that I couldn’t do it alone. I could have all the motivation in the world, but that didn’t change the fact that Richter was better at using his powers. But if I had the right people on my side, helping me, I knew I could do it.

  I took a deep breath and did my best to calm myself. I was brimming with excitement, because for the first time, I felt that defeating Richter was a real possibility.