Super Villain Academy 2: Polar Opposites Read online

  “Sorry, that’s a seven. I know my writing is atrocious.” He handed the slip to Jeff. “Would you like to read it to me to verify you’ve got it right?”

  “63788 Warrington Pl. In Eddleton, huh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thanks a bunch, Hans.” Jeff slapped the doorframe a couple times on his way out. He wanted to jump in his car and race straight to the address, but he knew his dad would already be ballistic when he learned Jeff skipped morning classes and conned the address out of poor unsuspecting Hans. Stuffing the paper into his pocket, he headed to class.

  Chapter 16

  Jeff was just about to push through the front doors of the school after the longest afternoon of classes he had ever lived through.

  “Polar!” A burly security guard jogged up to him. “Mr. Mean would like to see you before you go.”

  “I don’t suppose I could talk you into saying you never found me?” Jeff asked.

  The guard rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Royalty is all the same. Spoiled. You all think you’re above the law.”

  Squinting, Jeff studied the guard. His patent leather shoes shone with a fresh polish. It looked like his shirt had never seen a wrinkle or a sweat stain. He wore a precision crew cut for less wind drag and a nametag that said Stan Germaine. Jeff huffed. “Talk about stereotyping. You white hats have very straight lines drawn around your type.”

  Guard man Germaine did an impressively precise about-face and strode up the hall.

  Jeff groaned and flopped his arms to his sides like a toddler and then trudged along behind the guard toward his dad’s office. He considered what he’d say to his dad when asked why he’d finagled the address out of Hans. It wasn’t as if anyone has helped him in any way. All of the sudden rule following the villains were doing got on Jeff’s nerves. What were they afraid of? That the white hats wouldn’t let them fight crime? They used to be the crime.

  By the time Jeff turned into his dad’s office, he was seething with anger over the lack of support from the supers over Oci’s abduction. Frank stood in the outer office, speaking with Hans and a woman. As soon as Jeff entered, Frank gave his companions a conspiratorial look, as if to say, “I’ll get my son under control, don’t you worry.”

  “Look,” Jeff barked. He didn’t want his dad to have a chance to spew his ‘let’s be reasonable’ speech. “I’m sick of sitting around doing nothing. What’s the sense of having all these awesome abilities if we have to fill out a damned requisition sheet each time we want to use them? I’m gonna find Oci, with or without your help.”

  Fire smoldered in Jeff’s palms. Wisps of smoke curled out of his clenched fists. Before he burned another pair of pants, he drew a ragged, deep breath and blew a layer of frost across his hands to extinguish the embers. His amateurish lack of control angered him as much as the absence of support.

  The woman’s mouth fell open in amazement. “I’d heard, but… well, it’s quite a spectacle to see it in person.” She had a stodgy New England accent. Her dark brown hair was pulled tight into a ponytail. Her round rimless glasses and navy blue business suit made her look scholarly and unapproachable.

  Frank’s expression was a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Jeff suspected he knew what his dad was annoyed about, but wished he knew what he wanted to laugh about.

  “Yes, Geneva,” Frank said to the woman, though he held Jeff’s gaze while he spoke. “This is my son, Jeff.”

  “Polar,” Jeff corrected, though he wasn’t sure why he felt it was necessary. His underdeveloped instincts told him she was a super. Her severe appearance led Jeff to believe she was originally from the white hat camp. Well, that and the whole first name thing. That was kind of a big clue.

  Frank frowned at his son before continuing with an extra emphasis on the corrected name. “Polar, this is Geneva Kennedy. She’s been sent from HERO to begin the investigation into Oceanus’ abduction.”

  “It’s about time!” Jeff ran his hand through his hair, and then realized he should’ve checked his palm for heat first. He was so riled up he expected his vision to turn red.

  “Hans was telling us that he’s already provided you with Mystic’s last address on record. Have you had a chance to check that out?” Frank asked.

  “No, I’ve been in class,” Jeff mumbled.

  Frank raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry about it, then. Geneva will assign a HERO agent to the task.”

  “What’s your game plan?” Jeff asked. The woman’s expression hadn’t changed once the whole time he’d been in the office. Even when her mouth fell open over his fire and ice stunt, her expression was otherwise stony.

  She blinked at him. “That is confidential information, Mr. Mean.”

  “Tohler,” Jeff and Frank corrected at the same time.

  Geneva’s gaze slid back and forth between them. She gave the slightest of nods before saying. “We assure you, Mr. Tohler, that we will do everything we can to retrieve your girlfriend.”

  “Great, what can I do?” Jeff asked.

  “Stay out the way.” Geneva nodded to Frank and strode out the door.

  Chapter 17

  “That’s totally bogus,” Sandra said. “They won’t let you do anything to help find Oceanus?”

  Source dipped a French fry in Sandra’s chocolate shake and then popped it into his mouth. “I can’t figure out why Mystic did it.”

  “Who cares?” Jeff asked. “If we don’t find them soon, we may never figure it out.”

  “Polar, think back to when we trained together. Before you knew the source of an ability, were you able to master it?” Source asked.

  His matter of fact tone set Jeff’s teeth on edge. Wasn’t anybody, besides Set, concerned about Oci? He shook his head in answer to Source’s question.

  Source smiled knowingly. “Exactly. Find the source, master the ability. Discover the motivation, uncover how she’s enacting her plan.”

  “Which includes from where, right?” Jeff said. Deep in thought, he tapped his finger on the top of the double beef burger he had been about to devour. “No ransom request. No indication that she wants to swap Oci for me.”

  “Do you think she needs an ability that Oceanus has?” Sandra asked.

  Source pushed his glasses up his nose. “I thought about that, but Oceanus’s defenses are rock solid, and Mystic would know that. They both helped Polar train when they were at SVA. Together, right?” He looked at Jeff for confirmation.

  “Yeah. Those were some interesting training sessions. But you’re right. Mystic knows Oci’s defenses are impenetrable, since she’s tried to break her several times during training.” Jeff shook his head. “Man, those two do not get along. I’m sure Mystic is treating Oci badly. Very badly.”

  There was a long uncomfortable silence, in which no one mentioned what they were all thinking. If she’s still alive.

  Source broke the silence with another question. “Oceanus was an orphan, right? Do we know who her parents were?”

  Jeff shook his head and shrugged.

  “I guess that’s one possibility,” Sandra said. “Maybe Mystic knows, or suspects something that makes Oceanus valuable.”

  Jeff bit off a mouthful of burger. Special sauce dripped onto the wrapper lying on the table. Pieces of shredded lettuce fell into the sauce. A salad for later, Jeff thought. “Those dogs were creepy. Where’d she get those dogs? And why did she need guns?”

  “The guns I get,” Sandra said. “There aren’t many supers who have an effective defense against bullets.”

  “And she’d been stalking me prior to taking Oci,” Jeff said. He took another bite of his burger and then licked the grease that ran down the side of his hand.

  Sandra nodded. “That’s right, I had forgotten about the bed snuggling incident.”

  Jeff scowled at his half eaten burger. He’d never admit to anyone how many times he’d imagined Mystic in all her glory lying on his bed. She’d implanted some frustratingly desirable images into his brain while
she mind-psyched him during the kidnapping. “Doesn’t that make you think this has something to do with me?”

  “Well, she may have been stalking Oceanus just as much and you just didn’t know,” Source offered. “Maybe she was looking for a way to get to her through you.”

  Jeff lifted his eyebrows and nodded. He hadn’t thought of that.

  “Not always about you, bro,” Sandra said.

  He stared at Sandra while he mentally listed the events leading up to the snatch. “Maybe it isn’t always about me, but with Mystic involved, I think it is. Call it an instinct.”

  Source snorted. “Yeah, now there’s a strength of yours. Super instinct.”

  Jeff scowled.

  Suddenly, the volume of the television hanging over the counter blared loudly through the diner. The three of them shifted to watch the breaking news report.

  “The crowd has been gathered in the city park for four days, peacefully camping in protest of the new gasoline tax for clean air energy. It is unclear exactly what happened to escalate the situation, but something angered the small group of protesters. They began shouting and picketing around the edges of the park. They’ve turned over the trashcans, torn doors off of restrooms and torched the three hundred and fifty-year-old oak tree at the center of the park.”

  Sandra gasped at the image of the oak tree fully engulfed in flame. Then she squinted and whispered, “Where are the supers?”

  “Police have donned their riot gear and they are attempting to break through the rioters in order to escort the firemen to the tree, but they have not successfully broken the hostile line.”

  Source studied the faces as the cameraman panned the lineup of police. “You’re right, Sandra. There are no supers there.”

  Jeff gnawed his lip and looked at his sister and then at Source. “That could be a problem.”

  Chapter 18

  Jeff endured a full line up of classes and another lunch hour without Oceanus sitting beside him. With her skipping lunches before being abducted, it was approaching a full week since he had eaten with her. He yearned for her salty, sea lavender scent and wind chime giggle. Heading to his dad’s office, Jeff wondered if normal teenagers had to deal with people being stolen as much as he did. First, Source was stolen from SVA. Then Jeff, twice! The first time, he was snatched out of the cafeteria of SVA, and then he was beaned over the head in front of his favorite diner. Now Oci was dragged off from FVA. That just didn’t seem normal.

  “Hey, Hans. How’s it hanging?” Jeff said half-heartedly.

  Hans blushed predictably. “Your father isn’t in, sir.”

  Jeff furrowed his brow and swallowed the growl of frustration. “Do you know if they’ve made any headway finding Oceanus?”

  “No, sir.”

  Jeff blinked. “Wait. No, they haven’t made headway, or no, you don’t know?”

  “We haven’t heard anything, sir.” Hans straightened the already straight stapler and paperclip holder.

  “Great. Thanks.” Jeff slapped the doorframe on his way out like usual. A loud crack split the air. Super strength, fueled by mounting anger, proved to be a lethal combination for the innocent doorframe. Jeff winced “Oh, um, oops.”

  He climbed into his car and cranked the key. The radio blared a heavy metal tune by a group that set Jeff’s nerves on edge. He lowered the volume and backed out of his parking spot. The song ended, so Jeff raised the volume again as he drove out of the lot. Turned out the song hadn’t finished after all, it had been interrupted by a breaking news report.

  “The number of rioters seems to have tripled overnight. All the trees in the park have been burned, and the rioters have now left the park and spread into downtown. We’ve received reports of looting at Hook Me Up. Their front window was shattered, computers and printers were carried off by people. They are reportedly yelling, “No new taxes.” There are reports that an angry parent of a toddler trapped at a daycare in lockdown showed up, brandishing a handgun and threatening rioters if they touched her or her child.”

  “Geez!” Jeff breathed. He whipped around in a U-turn and drove toward downtown.

  The scene was crazy, even blocks away from the city center. Jeff ditched his car halfway into a parking spot and got out to jog through the choked congestion of looky-loos and panicked pedestrians who’d been swept into the melee against their will.

  A mother dragged her child behind her as she tried to escape the growing crush of people. A group of punk teens swept past them; one plowed right over the child, pulling her free of her mother’s grip. She fell to the ground and disappeared under the hordes of feet passing over her.

  “Holy crap.” Jeff barreled through the crowd to the last spot he’d seen the girl. People stepped on the child like she was a welcome mat. He flung three people aside and scooped the little girl up, hoping it wasn’t too late. Relief coursed through him when he heard her wailing. “Well, at least you’re alive.”

  Cradling her like a baby in his long arms, he peered over the crowd until he spotted the frantic mother. He plowed through the horde, tucked the girl under one arm, and swept the lady up in the other. He didn’t set them down until he reached the outskirts of the crowd. “Get out of here.”

  He turned to work his way back into the skirmish, but the little girl still clung to his hand with both of hers. He shot an annoyed glance at their hands, and instantly felt guilty when he saw the terrified expression on her face. Kneeling in front of her, he softened his expression. “I’m gonna need that back,” he said, glancing down at her small fingers holding fiercely onto him.

  The girl didn’t speak. She simply continued clutching his hand and quivering like a newborn foal.

  “What’s your name?” Jeff asked.

  “Lila,” her mother said. “Let go of the man’s hand.”

  Jeff smiled up at the woman. She’d referred to him as a man. It’s gotta be the height and the deep voice.

  “Are you Superman?” Lila whispered.

  Jeff raised his eyebrows. Before he had a chance to feel a little like Superman, disappointment washed through him. “No, Lila. There is no Superman.” Anymore, he added to himself.

  “Come on, Lila,” her mother pried her hands from Jeff’s. “The crowd keeps growing. We need to get far away from here.”

  Jeff watched until they turned a corner and then plowed back into the throng. The conversations around him confirmed his suspicions. Most of the people had been swept up into the mob mentality, and either didn’t know why they were there or were lashing onto an excuse to release some irrational anger, even anger that was over completely unrelated causes.

  An old guy, shriveled with age and probably excessive cigarette smoking, dashed out of a liquor store lugging a hand basket stuffed full of bottles of alcohol. From his brisk pace and guilty expression, Jeff was pretty certain he hadn’t paid for his spoils. Further on, a couple of homeless guys—well, they appeared homeless because of their dirty hair and unkempt clothing—accosted a well-dressed lady. Jeff shook his head, grabbed one of the guys by his scruff and lifted him off the ground. “Whoa, dude. You are rank!”

  The other guy scurried in the opposite direction, but Jeff grabbed him by the hair, which felt gritty and stiff. “Really you guys should not be in public in this condition. You’re worse than college guys. Now, give the nice lady her stuff back.”

  The second guy handed her purse back to her. She grasped it with shaking hands.

  “And the rest of it.” Jeff said. Shaking both men like they were rag dolls.

  The bums pulled rings, a watch and a chunky necklace from their pockets and piled them into the lady’s hands. Jeff looked at the woman for confirmation and she nodded. He tossed the men aside.

  “How did you know?” the woman asked dumping the jewelry into her purse.

  “There is no way someone who dresses like you wouldn’t have coordinating bling,” Jeff said. “Good luck getting out of here. I’d run if I were you.”

  “Thanks for the help,�
�� the woman yelled after him.

  Jeff was determined to make it to the police line.

  The air reeked of fear, greed and rebellion. As Jeff pushed his way toward the barriers surrounding the park, he battled his own inner turmoil. Though he’d just helped a couple people, a part of him wanted to catch the abandoned Audi ablaze or glue the feet of the guy stealing the television to the ground with gravity. Not to stop his crime, but to mess with his mind. As a matter of fact, the deeper he waded into the whirlpool of the mob, the giddier his villain self became.

  Jeff raised his head as high above the crowd as his 6’4” stature allowed and sucked what he hoped was clean air in through his nose. His nostrils flared with the draw of emotion-free air. His head cleared enough for him to concentrate on getting to the barriers without committing some villainy act.

  When he finally broke through the crowd and stood on the edge of the park, he was met by a long line of police in full riot gear. Thick black flack covered their chests. Heavy helmets with face protection rested on their heads. The sun glinted off most of the face shields, making it impossible for Jeff to see if he knew any of them. He groaned when he realized he was going to have to rely on his poorly developed senses to detect any supers in the police lineup.

  Doing his best to ignore the people who shoved against him and yelled obscenities at the police, Jeff concentrated on expanding his intuition, hoping to catch that telltale sense of a nearby super. Those who were white hats before the balancing tend to feel like you are being smothered by a fuzzy electric blanket. Ex-villains, on the other hand, made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and sizzle and sent electric sparklers down your spine. Supers were able to sense one another automatically because of these reactions. Unfortunately for Jeff, his sense wasn’t automatic. He had to concentrate to make it happen. Sometimes, it was just a jumble of fuzzy, electric, hair-standing-up nausea and other times it didn’t work at all, like now.