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⚠️ Please read the Prologue before continuing.
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Thank you. ⚠️
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"James," Derek whispered in my ear. He rocked my broad, athletic shoulders and gazed at me with blue eyes. I buried my face into my pillow and grunted loudly.
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"Don't you have work to do?" I asked, swerving to face him. I grinned as I weaved my eyes up and down, gazing at Derek in his police uniform.
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"Get ready, James," my brother demanded, his grin weakening as his eyes drifted to the picture of him and me on my wall. As I rushed from beneath my covers, my surroundings froze in place, and I shoved Derek onto my bedsheets.
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Time seemed to still. My feet shuffled across the bedroom quicker than lightning, and my surroundings froze as if I were timeless walking through the frozen earth. I wrestled the dresser open for a new pair of pants, replacing my plaid pajamas, a white t-shirt, and a dark hoodie. I still noticed him locked in place as I ran to the bathroom. Then, as I halted outside the doorway, Derek collapsed onto the mattress, and I winced at the sight of him smacking his face against the rough bed frame. That had to hurt.
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I studied my reflection in the mirror. Sure, I had a muscular frame like any boy's dream. That was because I possessed the strength of a god. My super strength was one of my well-known powers to the public, but it made me insecure because I wasn't much of a fan of my strength or superhuman powers.
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I had always wished to be an ordinary boy, and as much as Sam tried to create a successful cure, my abilities improved by the minute, making it a more laborious task to fit in each day.
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"James, are you almost ready to go?" my father called from the living room below. He was the second-in-command of the Phoenix Police Department, and Derek was just a little behind him.
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My father and brother were serious about their job, but Derek often allowed me to join in on the fun, taking me on his police calls so that I could scare bad guys who messed with the people of Phoenix. It became a regular morning routine for my brother and me. It also got me out-of-school assemblies.
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The door crept open as my toothbrush slid across my teeth, and Derek appeared from behind the bathroom entrance, looking in. "James, my shift started half an hour ago. I'm sure you can put your powers to good use. Hurry," he ordered.
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I spit, rinsed, pulled myself away from the mirror, and rushed to the staircase, sliding down the splintered banister and landing at the bottom steps.
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"I'm finished," I mused Derek's expected glance as I watched my wide-eyed brother. Derek followed behind as my father entered the room.
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"You're taking James to school?" my dad asked. His hands traced the edges of his collar, straightening the lines. Derek pulled his keys from his pocket and waved them at our father.
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"Just to school," Derek replied. My father grimaced, looking at the two of us. It was as if I disappointed him, but he took a deep breath and worked on his collar again.
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My father knew Derek and me too well, and I knew my brother better. So, the second we got in his cruiser, I became his superpowered sidekick, fighting morning crime. I was no longer James Everett Knight but Phoenix's most prominent and only superhero known as Alpha.
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∆∆∆
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Derek's police scanner rumbled my eardrums as he drove, but he turned it down, so the noise and chaos didn't bombard my mind. However, an instinct in me kept me from tuning it out completely. "Don't give in to Mark Reignson's bullshit today," Derek said. "I know he is a bully and an asshole--"
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"Derek!" I scolded, watching his glare from the mirror. "I know. You don't have to bring it up. I won't do anything stupid..." My brother was like a third father, and ever since he learned about my abilities, Derek was always there to save me from complete disaster, but he also knew it annoyed me every time he did it.
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Derek moaned in annoyance, shifting his weight on the gas pedal. His brows furrowed in anger, but it surprised us when a voice broke over the speakers.
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Derek cranked up the volume on his radio and clutched an intercom in his palm. He cleared his throat and pressed harder against the throttle pedal, his gravelly voice cracking.
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"Ten-four," Derek replied.
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Officer Garrett Reignson was the police chief's brother-in-law and handled most calls from the station. "Two-Eleven, about ten minutes ago," Garrett remarked. "A robbery with possession of a firearm. Plate numbers: YDS-1134, black Bentley, tinted windows. Suspects are wearing black masks covering their faces. The witness described the boys as inexperienced delinquents, last seen driving down Torto Avenue."
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"Ten-four, copy," Derek repeated with a sly grin, pulling his tight lips apart.
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As he drew into the line of cars and took off, his foot dug deeper into the pedal, turning on the lights and sirens. Following the black Bentley, a swarm of cop cars whizzed by. Derek came up and took the lead, skirting oncoming traffic.
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To the left and right of us, cars had pulled over. One bullet rebounded off Derek's side reflector, smashing the glass as the two young men hurled trash from the vehicle. Derek sped up, and we followed behind. He pushed the car off the road and into a wall.
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"James, stay in the car and don't do your thing. I mean it." Derek watched me before drawing his gun from his holster. I didn't see our father in the sea of cops. Instead, I turned back around to watch a scene unfold.
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"Come out of the vehicle and put your hands up," my brother demanded. One boy stuck his hands out of the passenger window. A row of six cop cars lined the pathway. About a dozen officers drew their guns, pointed at the young men, and the two boys exited the vehicle.
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One boy dropped his gun from his waist. The two robbers glanced at each other before taking off separate ways. Derek cursed under his breath, taking off after one of them.
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I didn't have to think about it. I tucked my hoodie far above my head, going against Derek's orders, as I ran off, meeting the other guy in an open alley.
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"You were in the cop car," the inexperienced robber snapped, tapping his foot against the concrete. His voice sounded youthful and Australian, disguised as a husky growl. His honey-brown eyes squinted as if he was trying to see who I was under my hoodie.
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He seemed to be around my age, maybe a few years older, and he dug his palm deep into the side of his abdomen and sulked from under his mask. He was only a few inches taller than me, standing six-foot-three, but I could've taken him. One man wasn't a problem with my superhuman abilities. That's at least what I assumed.
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My hoodie brushed my ears as I pulled it above my head and concealed half of my face while sheltering me with the warmth of my skin.
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"So what?" I said with a grimace, looking him up and down again. The robber took one step forward, puffing out his chest as his hands trembled by his sides. If the guy thought he could challenge me, he could have fooled me with his enormous ego.
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The Australian boy chuckled, subsiding with a smile, licking his straight rows of teeth. I dubbed the escape plan, watching the boy's eyes widen under his mask. He lost his patience, and before I could move, the teen was beside me, slamming my back onto the concrete floor. I gasped, catching my breath.
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"That hurt," I muttered, peeling myself from the ground, dazed in confusion. Don't get this wrong. I could typically take down bad guys in a flash, super or not. This guy was different, stronger, and a suitable match.
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The boy roared, his hand wrapped around the front of my hoodie, suspending me above the ground. "Where is Samual Jonathan Knight?" the boy shouted. What I needed clarification on was how he connected with my uncle.
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"I-I don't know," I answered. How did the guy know about my family? How did he know Sam?
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One hand strained my shirt grip while the other sought his mask. The boy stepped back before I could grab his disguise, and another boy came before my eyes. "Leave him," The boy disguised his voice. He, too, sounded Australian. However, his accent was lighter and closer to American. "Let's go, mate."
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I dropped to the ground when the boys disappeared into the opened alleyway in a flash. I dashed out after them, speechless and defeated. As a few officers looked my way, my hoodie still covered my face, disguising my face as the sunlight beamed directly on me. Derek leaned against his cruiser, gazing at me, and swung his keys in a circle as we met eyes.
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"Are you OK?" Derek asked. I looked at the other officers and cleared my throat, disguising my voice.
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"Yeah," I relieved him, my voice a few octaves deeper than usual. Derek and I exchanged glances, and he drew my gaze to the significant police presence and bystanders gathered around the flashing camera lights. I shielded my face with my arm, bowed to the ground, and nodded, staring at him nervously. Before my feet left the ground, I soared past my brother on my way to school.
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and then Add to home screen.