Chapter 6
"Whoa."
Jake, Mark, and Courtney stared at the small burnt crater into the sidewalk. It was shoe shaped, like their Converse's.
"What do you think it was?" Courtney asked them.
"I don't know, a dude on fire maybe?" Jake suggested.
"If it was, the whole place would be torched, wouldn't it?" Mark said, looking at them both.
"True," Jake said, before seeing Tony rolling on his skateboard.
"Hey guys," he called, skating toward them and waving.
"Hey Tony," Courtney said, waving back.
"Watch out for the crater," Jake warned.
"What crat- whoa!" Tony began falling off his board as it stopped suddenly, seeing the ground rush up at him.
But he stopped falling suddenly, feeling his collar tugging against the front of his neck.
The group looked back and saw Miley holding the back of Tony's collar.
They stood there, with their jaws dropped in shock.
"Hey, Miley. A little help?" Tony asked.
"Oh, sorry, Tony," she apologized, helping Tony stand upright and looking down while she blushed.
"Nah, you're good. Great reflexes," he complimented her, putting a hand on her shoulder. He felt Miley jump at the sudden touch.
"Oh, thanks," Miley answered, smiling slightly.
"You okay?" Tony asked, looking at her.
"Yeah, just startled," Miley answered, smiling nervously at him.
"Oookay," Tony said, unsure.
"Hey, Miley. We found this crater on the ground," Courtney said, pointing to the burnt crater.
"Oh, lemme see," Miley said, looking down.
Miley
"Crap, I should have covered it better," she thought.
"What do you think it was?" Jake asked her.
"I'm not sure," she said, toeing at the crater.
"Wait, it's the size of your foot!" Jake observed, bending down.
"So?" Miley answered, shifting from foot to foot.
"Maybe, it was someone our age," Tony speculated.
The rest murmured in agreement.
"Can we just get to school?" Miley suddenly blurted out, causing the rest to look at her.
"She's right, school starts in a bit," Jake added, starting on the path to their school.
The others shrugged and went along.
Jake
"I wonder why Miley was so bent on going to school after seeing that crater," Jake thought as he walked. She seemed nervous and jumpy.
Jake looked back at Miley. She was staring down and lagging behind.
"She acting weird to you?" Tony asked him.
"Somewhat, but she's always like that," Jake answered.
"Yeah, but someone's off about her," Mark cut in, walking beside them.
"That crater got her acting funny," Tony added.
"Guys, I swear she's always been like this. Cool your jets," Jake said.
"Okay, Jake. I see you defending the mystery girl," Tony teased him.
"What? It's not like-"
"Yeah, Jake, something you wanna say?" Mark joined in.
Jake stammered, trying to defend himself.
"Oh, relax; I'm joking," Tony laughed, punching him on the shoulder.
"Go get 'em, though," Tony whispered suddenly to him, before seamlessly transitioning back to laughing with Mark.
Jake sighed and kept walking.
***
Flick.
Flick.
Flick.
"Third time's the charm," the man thought, lighting his cigarette. He inhaled, causing the tip to glow orange, before exhaling, watching the smoke float to the ceiling from his throne.
He coughed twice, patting his chest.
"Damn, I gotta quit this crap," he thought, before realizing something and smiling.
"Oh right, I'm a super. Lung cancer isn't a risk."
He kept playing with the zippo lighter, watching the flame click on and off, before seeing a group of soldiers walk in. They all had the same black sleeveless hoodies, ballistic vests, black pants and boots. Purple accents ran down their outfits, and on the back of their vests was a shiny purple emblem; a design consisting of a screeching owl gripping two assault rifles stood in front of purple talon marks.
"Gentlemen," the man said, not moving from his spot.
"Donovan, sir, we have news," the lead soldier announced.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant, the floor is yours," Donovan said in a cherry voice.
"Well, sir, the Ultainum heist was a success. We stole the technology you ordered us to, as well as the evidence of superslanic culture they had been researching. We also stole about a hundred pounds of superslanium," the lieutenant answered, before looking at the other soldiers that were wheeling in cases of the element, in forms of metal, crystal, and powder.
Donovan stood up to his full height, stepping up from the throne and onto the purple carpet on the hardwood floor.
He walked over to the soldier, easily dwarfing him with his height and build. He picked up a large green crystal and inspected it. It began glowing green as he touched it, and a steady purple aura began forming around him, with his eyes and tattoos covering his arms glowing the same color.
He smiled before breaking it in one hand and causing a medium sized green explosion as he threw it on the ground. The explosion blew the soldiers back, causing them to sprawl out on the ground.
"Had to check if it's authentic, sorry," Donovan said, "Wheel it to our labs. Well done."
The lieutenant nodded, motioning the soldiers toward the door, before starting to walk away.
"Not you. You stay." Donovan said, turning to him.
"Sir?"
"There's one piece of info that I asked for that you haven't mentioned. Mind explaining?" Donovan asked him, sitting on his throne and scratching his stubble.
The lieutenant sighed in fear before speaking.
"There was no evidence of where her family moved to in their database, sir," he answered, looking down.
"Really, nothing? You're telling me you can't track down a damn twelve year old?"
The lieutenant swallowed in fear and kept his head down.
"You were a top dog of the Night Owls when I did my, what's the word? Hostile takeover, that's it! So with all that tech I obtained for you, you'd think I'd deserve some payback, you know?" Donovan asked, chuckling.
"Yes, sir."
"So you, my friend, know how much of a nuisance and threat those superslanics are, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Such a waste of power. They just stand by not pushing back as they're crushed, and scatter like scared rabbits," Donovan kept speaking, getting up and stepping toward his soldier.
"I have a question for 'ya, pal; what do owls do?" Donovan asked, standing over the soldier.
"H-hunt prey, s-sir," the lieutenant stammered.
"Bingo! That's the spirit!" Donovan suddenly shouted, "And that prey consists of?"
"R-rab-bits?"
"Ah, two in one go, excellent!" Donovan announced, before looking at the soldier.
"Miley's biological family was one of the toughest I had ever seen and fought, with her mother and father basically being the chieftain and chieftess of their chapter of supers. Hard sons of bitches, I tell you. Miley has a combination of all four of their main powers. Fast and agile like her mother, who was just so annoying to land a hit on, and strong and senseful like her father, who wouldn't fall down no matter how hard you hit 'em. Girl hadn't inherited their spunk though, the pushover."
"Why are you telling me this?" the lieutenant asked.
Donovan looked at the soldier as his face darkened, before grabbing him by the throat and raising him to eye level.
"Because this rabbit has a gun, soldier, and it ain't no fun when the rabbit got the gun, now is it?" Donovan asked dangerously.
"No, sir," the lieutenant answered in a strangled voice, gasping for air.
"See that black flag? That means every threat of ours dies. No prisoners, death. And as long as Miley is alive, she is a threat to me, you, and StrikeForce," Donovan said, pointing at the black flag above the throne with the same purple emblem as the one on the back of the soldier's ballistic vest.
"I can't breathe, sir," the lieutenant said, still gasping.
Donovan looked at him, and sighed.
"Of course, my mistake," he said, before grunting as he threw him on the ground, before pinning him under his boot.
He bent down with his face in his lieutenant's.
"What's your rank again?"
"Lieutenant, sir," the soldier answered, shaking.
Donovan looked at the soldier's right bicep and saw three tattooed criss-crossed slash marks, with the word "lieutenant" tattooed under it.
Donovan grabbed his arm and twisted it so his tattoo faced up, causing the soldier to scream in agony. He pinned his arm under his boot, and put his knee on the soldier's chest.
Donovan's right hand and fingertips began glowing with purple energy, which began crackling and hissing with electricity.
"Wait, no! Please, sir! Anything!" the soldier began pleading in vain.
"Consider this your demotion," Donovan said coldly, before placing an energy engulfed finger on the tattoo, moving extremely slow as the tattoo began to burn off.
The wails of pain echoes through the enormous StrikeForce base, with everyone working growing sympathetic.
Sympathetic to the fool who challenged Jacob Donovan.