TOUCH | Part 2

Read PART 1 of this story here.

~

Sean stood his ground on the icy pavement as the two “officers” approached. The driver was a short, stocky man wearing a blue police cap over shaggy black hair. His uniform, if he wore one, was covered by a thick woolen jacket that extended down to his knees. His hand hovered casually beside his holster as he closed the car door and approached. His passenger was a woman taller even than Sean’s six-foot-one frame. She wore a blue uniform with no jacket, and short curls of blonde hair stuck out from beneath a knit cap.

“You should get back home,” the driver said. He smiled disarmingly at Sean. Sean gave him a flat stare in return. The driver looked at the woman, and Sean realized that she was the one in charge here.

“What are you doing here?” Sean asked her.

The woman nodded towards the semi-truck. “We got a call. Came to make sure the driver’s okay. Aren’t you cold?”

Sean shook his head.

The man rubbed his hands together. “These crazy kids,” he muttered. Then, more loudly, “How’d you get out here, anyway?”

“Truck,” Sean said. “Not that one.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just cruising.” Sean took a small step towards the semi-truck. “I saw the truck and checked on the driver. He’s all good. We’re just waiting out the storm. You can go.”

The woman started walking towards the driver’s side of the semi-truck.

“No, seriously,” Sean insisted. “We’re fine.”

The woman glanced back at her companion. “Paul, get him back to his vehicle.”

The man nodded. “Let’s go, kid,” he said to Sean. “Where’s your truck?”

Sean eyed the gun in Paul’s holster. “Back a ways,” he said. “Towards Bayfield. A quarter mile. Ran out of gas.”

Paul raised an eyebrow, and Sean knew that his lies were falling apart. He almost didn’t care. Something was off with these fake police officers, and he wanted to force their hand. They were out here looking for something, and Sean had a feeling Edwin was involved somehow. Maybe he was a target of some kind.

But who was he kidding? This was northern Wisconsin. Nothing big ever happened here.

The woman disappeared behind the driver’s side of the semi-truck. Sean held his breath. Several seconds later, she emerged holding the thermos, now empty.

“He’s gone,” she said. Paul looked at Sean, who shrugged.

“I’ve been right here,” Sean said. “Officer.”

Paul cocked his head sideways. “You know, don’t you?”

“Know what?”

Paul looked at his partner. “Betty, we’re made,” he said softly.

The woman, Betty, rolled her eyes as she approached them. “Well, now we are,” she said. “You don’t have to say it out loud.”

“What are you talking about?” Sean asked, feigning confusion.

Paul ignored him. “The trailer must have gotten lost somewhere. Did he leave the GPS?”

Betty shook her head. “He probably bolted when we pulled up. But it makes our job easier if we can find Edwin and the trailer at the same time.”

“Especially in this storm,” Paul added. He looked at Sean with a sympathetic expression. “Sorry, kid. I don’t know why you’re really out here, but it appears you got lost in the blizzard. Tragic, but unavoidable.” He reached for his pistol, and that was when Sean made his move.

Paul barely had time to cry out before Sean’s shoulder slammed into his chest. The stocky man slipped backwards on the ice and fell with Sean on top of him. Sean tried to yank the pistol out of the holster, but Paul got his hands on it at the same time. So Sean pulled, hard. Paul yelled in shock and pain as the gun wrenched out of his fingers. Sean rolled away and tossed the gun to the side, where it was quickly lost in the snow

As Paul struggled to his feet, Betty ran at Sean, her booted feet surprisingly sure on the slick pavement. She aimed a punch at Sean’s gut, but Sean caught her fist and deflected the punch. Betty grabbed his wrist and twisted him into a headlock, one elbow around his neck and the other hand holding Sean’s forearm as an odd angle.

“I’ll make this quick,” she hissed. She pulled Sean’s arm down. Something cracked. Betty threw Sean down onto the pavement, and he skidded a few feet on his back. Betty removed her gun from its holster, but Sean was already up, using his shoulder again to knock Betty back onto the side of the road.

Something pulled Sean down to the ground. Paul placed a knee on his chest as Betty stood up and picked up her gun from where it had fallen.

“I broke his wrist,” Betty said. “But he didn’t even cry out.”

“And it’s freezing,” Paul said as he grabbed Sean’s injured arm and squeezed it hard. Sean just glared at him. “But it’s like he’s immune. What are you, kid, some kind of superhero?”

“No such thing as kid superheroes,” Betty said. “Maybe he’s just weird. Either way—”

Sean shoved Paul away and jumped to his feet. He turned to face Betty just as she fired three shots into his chest.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The gunshots echoed faintly in the distance, slightly muffled by the falling snow. Sean’s mouth fell open. He stared at the holes in the front of his shirt, each oozing a trickle of blood. Then he collapsed to the ground.

“We gotta move,” Betty said.

“But my pistol—” Paul started.

“No time!” Betty holstered her weapon. “We find the trailer. The truck was coming from Red Cliff, so it’ll be back there. Anyone finds the body, they’ll blame it on Edwin. We’re running out of time.”

The two fake officers jogged across the ice, got back in their police cruiser, and drove away, leaving Sean’s body on the side of the road near the semi-truck. Within seconds, they were gone.

The snow began to fall more gently as the brunt of the blizzard headed west. Flakes danced in the chilly breeze as they settled on Sean’s face, his lips, his eyelids. As soon as the cruiser was out of earshot, he sat up and felt at his chest.

“I knew I shouldn’t have worn this shirt,” he muttered.

~

Read PART 3.

The YOUNG HEROES GUILD is an anthology of untold stories from children and teenagers with superhuman abilities. Subscribe for a new chapter every week.