Failing Test: Book One of The Shadow Series Read online

  As she walked away, he looked back to the picture. He knew what he had to do. He folded the paper, pushed it to the edge of the table, and hurriedly pulled what was left of his burger and fries in front of him. He took a couple of bites and then a long drink. Pushing his chair back from the table, he looked around to see if his waitress was anywhere near, her knack for surprise a hindrance to his plan. He heard a crash in the kitchen and then heard her yelling loudly. Now was his time. He stood and ran to the front door, his heart racing faster with each step. He burst through the door and jumped out into the night. Looking over his shoulder and with his chest feeling as though it was going to explode, he pulsed, launching up and backwards onto the roof. Kneeling in silence, he heard the door open below him within a matter of seconds, followed by the waitress’s voice.

  “You’d better be fast, ’cause I’m calling the cops!”

  Test didn’t buy it. You don’t call the police over a five-dollar burger at a place like this. His guess was that after ten o’clock there were plenty of things in this building that they wouldn’t want the police around to see.

  He turned to look at the lights of the city and tried to get some bearing on where he was versus the armory, but after a minute lost patience. He felt excited at what he was about to do. As he looked at his hands in the dark of the roof, they glowed. He forced his internal furnace to pulse harder. As he did, the glow of his hands became more intense. He could now watch the glowing pulses go from his core, down his arm, and into his palm. It was truly amazing. The acceptance within the moment was in essence a rebirth. He was no longer afraid of what he had become. His body ablaze with color, he looked to the sky and pulsed into the blackness.

  Chapter 23

  Decisions

  Nicole sat in her room, thinking of the last day that she had attended school. While it had only been a little more than a week since she’d been there, it felt like a year. She had been out of the hospital for the last few days but couldn’t bring herself to go back and face all of the looks and comments. School for the seniors was over, and she didn’t have to worry about it, for now anyway. Graduation was tomorrow, and while she had mixed emotions, she had made the decision to walk. The invitations had been sent and a lot of her family was coming from out of town, but more importantly, she had worked hard for this moment, and she desperately needed a touch of normalcy.

  Her days since the hospital had been filled with watching game shows and talk shows, anything but the news. She was trying not to think about Test, but it was next to impossible not to be reminded. She had thought that, after nearly a week of him not being seen, the media would have died down a bit. This was not the case. It seemed that every channel, be it local or national, had something to say. Even Maury had a show dedicated to trying to solve what Test was. It was silly to her. The theories were anything from a scientific experiment gone wrong to an alien human hybrid. While she didn’t know why or how he was what he had become, she couldn’t accept any of the explanations that had been proposed.

  Sleeping had not been an easy task lately. Her dreams were filled with visions of Test in his fits of rage. And then there was Agent Dawson. His visit to her in the hospital left a lasting impression. His questions seemed open ended and confusing. Several times he had asked her about her relationship with Test. Every time, her answer had been that as far as she was concerned, there wasn’t a relationship any longer. Even so, he asked if she thought Test would let that happen. She played the conversation over and over in her mind.

  “What do you mean?” asked Nicole of Dawson.

  “Do you have any . . . fear that he may come back for you again?” asked the agent sarcastically.

  “No, I don’t think . . .” She looked to her mother. After a long hesitation, Nicole replied, “I don’t think so.”

  She regretted not being more pointed with her answer and wondered if she had made a horrible mistake. The reality remained that she was in fact telling the truth. She couldn’t say for sure if she would see him again or not, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to. At the same time, she thought back to all of the years that she had admired him from a distance. It was odd to her that, only now, she realized that he was all that she ever wanted, and now she had to decide.

  She fluffed her pillow, leaned back on her bed, and let out a deep sigh. Life had become so incredibly complicated. Part of her wished that she could turn back time and just ride out her last couple weeks of school, having never gotten involved with Test. She thought back to a week ago. The memory of the night that he had revealed his gifts to her seemed unreal, more like the memory of a dream than that of an actual moment in time. With a tender smile, she thought of swinging with him. The thought of their first kiss made her yearn for him. It was getting late and she was tired, but she was condemned to lying in bed wide awake; confined and forced to be with her thoughts and memories.

  ****

  Cliff sat on the edge of the bed that had been provided to him. The mattress sat on a flimsy tubular frame and was ridiculously thin and lumpy. It also came with a matching pillow. One overhead fixture housed a single sixty-watt light bulb that put out a depressing yellow-tinted light. All four walls, as well as the floor, were concrete, and the door was solid steel. For almost a week now, this had been Cliff’s home. They had taken his cigar, and with no TV, radio, or even anything to read, he passed the time by getting into the heads of the guards stationed on the other side of the door. He actually found them highly entertaining.

  The day shift guard was the most straight-laced and boring. His name was Robert, and his thoughts consisted of needing to mow the lawn and how long it was until lunch. He was a fairly simple-minded man in his mid-forties, just living life and waiting for retirement with his wife and spending time with his grandkids.

  The night shift guard was another story all together. He was a very aggressive and angry man named John. Often John was thinking about a fight he wished he would have started or finished. Just last night, Cliff discovered that John had actually shot someone while on duty. Cliff had seen the event clearly.

  It was a dark street somewhere in a city. He couldn’t tell if it was Lincoln or not, but the street was dimly lit with lights only on the corners. Looking through John’s eyes, Cliff saw a figure walking down the street. John had his 9 mm drawn and aimed at the figure. Cliff could feel John’s excitement. It wasn’t a nervous excitement; it was more sporting, as if he were hunting. As the figure drew closer, Cliff could see that it was a man. He could make out that the man was wearing a gray sweatshirt and tattered jeans with white sneakers. As soon as Cliff was able to see the man’s face, John pulled the trigger. Cliff was horrified at the sense of joy that the officer had felt when the man in the street fell. John turned to see if anyone was coming from the other direction. Seeing no one, he walked down to the man lying in the street and knelt down beside him. The man was still alive, but only just barely. John rolled the man over onto his back, revealing his blood-stained chest.

  John looked the man in the eyes and said nonchalantly, “No hard feelings, huh?”

  Cliff stopped there. He didn’t need or want to see anymore. He had learned enough to know that he had better do what he was told by the officer. It was clear and apparent that he had no conscience or remorse, and was capable of anything.

  The night ended for Cliff exactly like the few that had come before. The room was still cool, it was still damp, and he was still by himself.

  Chapter 24

  The Other Side

  Test was now on a mission. He had to help his friend. Pulsing from point to point within the city, he methodically figured out his bearings and his route. After about fifteen minutes, he stopped in an alley only two blocks away from the armory. With every step, he found his anger growing. He was angry at many things, but mostly with himself. He had let too many people down, and he was not going to let that happen anymore. He repeated the phrase “No more” as he walked, his tone getting more and more hostile the closer
he came to the armory. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of light. He looked down and realized that it was his hands. Coming to an abrupt stop, he quickly shoved them into his pockets.

  They’ll see me coming a mile away! he thought. Control it!

  Cliff’s words continued to echo in his head. He stood silently and focused. He forced his mind to be still and his pulse to slow. He pulled his hands from his pockets and watched the glow coming from them dim until it was nearly gone. Breathing deeply, he continued his trek.

  Coming around the corner and out of the alley, he crouched behind a trash dumpster. The armory was now in sight. It was a large old building made out of brick, two stories tall, and windows lining each level. He was unable to see the entrance, and the side of the building that he could see was partially covered by trees. He knew that there had to be guards, cameras, motion sensors, and a host of other technical gadgets that he couldn’t see. The only reason that they would be keeping Cliff here was because of the fallout shelter; that and the fact that there were basically empty lots on all four sides. It would be fairly easy to see someone coming. Unsure of what to do now that he was at his destination, he hesitated. This feeling was short lived.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flash of light and looked up to see headlights coming down the street towards him. He stood, backing quickly into the alley, but it was too late. He heard the car’s engine accelerate, and within seconds, the car was turning down the alley. He turned to run the other direction. After he had taken two steps, another car turned into the other end of the alley, blocking him off. With the first car nearly on him, he pulsed and flew backwards over it. He landed behind the car, staring at brake lights as it came to a stop. He stared at the car with mass amounts of energy surging through him. His torso, arms, and hands glowed brightly in the dark alley. He raised his arms in the air, standing in a “T” with his palms facing outward.

  “Enough!” he yelled. “I’m tired of this!”

  Taking the car in his grip, he roared as it imploded like someone squeezing an empty aluminum can. One by one, the tires failed under the pressure and exploded with great force. The second car was now upon the first. Before the car could stop, it began the same implosion process as the first. With both cars stopped and the doors on both unable to be opened, the occupants were trapped inside. Test heard a helicopter overhead and felt the loss of control increase. As he struggled for a solution, he heard a familiar voice.

  “Let it go.”

  He spun around searching for the origin of the voice.

  “You gonna have to let it go, son. It’s the only way you’re gonna help either one of us.”

  He threw his head back and roared to the sky.

  The light of the helicopter was rapidly approaching over a set of trees. He rolled his shoulders and looked to the ground, a low and steady groan coming from deep within his throat. The privacy fences that surrounded him shook and vibrated and the sand layered atop the alley was dancing several inches into the air. Suddenly, he was surrounded by a bright white light. He slowly lifted his head and looked up. The helicopter was directly above. He turned and ran powerfully towards the park. Once to the street, he pulsed and launched into the air, angling toward the armory with the helicopter in pursuit. While still in the air, he rolled on his back and threw his arms forward towards the aircraft. Violently, the helicopter shuddered and lost altitude. Test quickly rolled in the air and, with a final pulse, landed on the roof of the armory.

  He landed standing tall, every muscle in his body on fire and ready to react in an instant. He looked across the roof and saw two men armed with rifles. They stood frozen. With Test’s body glowing almost blindingly, they cowered, awed and afraid. His entire body radiated waves of energy, making everything that was behind him appear blurry. The red and blue glow coming from his chest and torso looked almost as if it were burning through his black shirt. His arms were an electric blue with red pulses traveling down the underside to his hands. After several moments of Test standing, waiting for the men to make their move, they aimed their rifles and opened fire.

  Test quickly dropped to a knee. He could see the flashes coming from across the roof. Enraged, he threw his right arm in a sweeping motion, knocking the bullets from the air. Shots rained on him from every direction. He looked over the edge and saw soldiers and equipment everywhere. He looked up to see that another helicopter was coming in from the east. The cover of night had been replaced with steady flashes of light. All around him, bullets dropped from mid-air as if it was raining. He looked to his feet and realized that none of the bullets were touching him. All were dropping to the ground as they hit the waves of energy radiating from his body. He grinned sinfully, like a junkie with his heroin, at the power he possessed.

  “There is nothing you can do!” he announced proudly.

  He looked around at all who were trying to bring him harm. Still kneeling, he placed his palms on the roof and focused. Over taken by a fiery red, the blue in his arms slowly disappeared at his shoulder. In a matter of seconds, his arms were blazing red, and his hands were as bright as the sun. He moved his hands in a circular pattern around his body and watched as the roof around him melted. Within seconds, he was dropping through the roof.

  He took a deep breath and collected himself. His arms had returned to glowing blue, and his hands were no longer blindingly bright. He couldn’t believe the amount of force that had just been used against him. He looked up to the hole in the ceiling, noticing that the gunfire had stopped.

  “All of this from smashing a truck?” he said to himself in jest.

  Of course he knew that the only reason any of this was happening was because of his gifts. Had he taken a ball bat to the truck, he would be at home with his mother and Nicole right now.

  He had landed in what appeared to be a records room. There were filing cabinets and boxes everywhere. There was one window in the room, but it wasn’t facing outside. Instead it looked into a hallway. Slowly he walked to the door, opened it, and peered out. He squinted in the darkness, looking up and down the hallway. Seeing no one, he stepped out and began looking for the stairwell. It felt like he was playing a video game and at any moment some virus-laden zombie could come out of the floor. As he walked down the dark hallway, he finally came to the stairwell door. He reached out for the handle and then heard a series of clicks from the end of the hall. As if someone had turned on a light switch, his body ignited with color.

  The darkness became a display of light as the muzzle flashes burst from a dozen gun barrels. As on the roof, the bullets dropped from the air around him, covering the ground like gravel on a country road. Test turned and held his arms to his side. The rate at which the pulses of light were traveling down his arms began to increase. The light from his hands became more and more intense as they collected each pulse of energy from his core. He took his first step forcefully and a quick pace took him towards the group of men. Suddenly a burst of flame appeared directly in front of him. The blast engulfed the hallway from wall to wall and ceiling to floor, blocking the soldiers from his view. As the remains of the blast settled, another took its place, and then another. Test’s eyes were blind from the intensity of the flames. Infuriated he thrust both arms forward, releasing a pulse so powerful that he could feel the air surging from behind him.

  Suddenly the air was still. The muzzle flashes had disappeared and Test now struggled to see in the darkness. He stepped carefully down the hall, his palms raised defensively in front of him. His eyes began to adjust and the light from his body illuminated the area several feet in front of him. He stopped as a tangled mass of legs became visible. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, afraid of what he might see should he choose to proceed. With only one more step, his eyes caught those of another, only there was no life within them. They stared up to him unwavering and still. Test felt sick. A single bullet hole was visible in the soldier’s neck. The force of Test’s pulse had been so great that it, in essen
ce, shot the soldiers’ bullets and flame back at them. He found himself surprisingly unremorseful, though the sight of the fallen men left him sullen. He knew that it was self defense. He hadn’t intended to hurt, let alone kill, anyone.

  Shaken, he turned and ran back to the stairwell door. He gripped the handle and partially opened it. From the corner of his eye he saw the familiar flash of a muzzle blast and simultaneously heard the bullet fly past him.

  He turned and could see a man standing in a doorway with his weapon drawn. Test crouched low and, with his jaws tensed, let out a menacing growl. The growl transformed into a roar as he held out his right hand. The man’s arms snapped to his sides faster than the human eye could witness. With his weapon still in hand, the man lifted off the ground and floated towards Test.

  Now face to face, Test leaned into the man. “What’s your name, mister?” asked Test through his teeth.

  “I can’t . . . breath . . . dizzy . . . pressure . . .” replied the man.

  As with Nicole and Cliff, the waves affected the man negatively. Test closed his eyes and worked to calm his emotions. After a moment, he felt his pulse slow and opened his eyes.

  “Is that better?” he asked, not caring about the man’s answer. “Trust that I can make it worse. Now, what’s your name?” he demanded.

  “John,” replied the man.

  “John what?” asked Test.

  The man looked at Test smugly. “John . . . the one who’s going to kill you,” he replied.

  Test looked at him curiously, cocking his head to the side. “Well, Mr. John, I don’t believe that day is going to be today,” he replied as he tightened his grip on the man.

  Gasping like a rodent in a constrictor’s grasp, John dropped his weapon. Test held his left hand out flat, and the pistol rose off the ground. Hovering in the air, inches from John’s face, the pistol dripped until nothing remained.