Chapter 17
Ray
I looked at my digital clock from across the room. One a.m.? I groaned and rolled over in my bed. My mind wouldn’t turn off. Sleep seemed as distant as the basketball playoffs. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that had happened today—or yesterday, technically.
Overnight, I’d become one of the biggest news stories of all time. Millions—probably hundreds of millions—of people knew who Ray Simmons was now. I’d hoped for that in the past, but for a completely different reason. Now they all know me as the freak; the guy who either takes mega steroids or has superpowers.
The press was driving me crazy. When I’d seen the news vans and reporters that surrounded my house earlier, I’d just parked my truck a block away, ran around to the back of my house, and went through my bedroom window. Those vans had left, but in their place were several cars occupied with people to scout me out, see if I did anything weird around my house. They were still out there, even at this hour. Made me feel like a prisoner in my own house.
My mom had heard me when I came in. She came up to my room and had a lot of questions. I assured her the press was lying, that I was completely normal. She said she believed me, but she still looked a little unsure. My brother Sam had come over to the house and spoke to the press. Fortunately, he tried to convince them that there was no way I could be a superhuman. Unfortunately, to prove his point, he gave them way too many embarrassing, childhood examples of me being a wimp. Thanks, bro. My mom also talked to them briefly, telling them I was completely normal.
I tried not to watch the news, but I couldn’t help it, even though it gave me an instant dose of anxiety and depression. I nearly cried when I saw the clip with Doug and Coach Jones. Two people who I considered to be close friends just two days ago, were now traitors, backstabbers, and… (I went on cussing in my head).
I rolled over again. Go to sleep! I told myself. The biggest thing that weighed on my mind was… what do I do now? The press would be watching my every move. I’d have to talk to them eventually; come up with some story. What worried me most were the eye witnesses, especially Doug and Coach Jones. I could get the cops called on me for what I did to James or for what I did to Doug. The cops could be here to arrest me first thing tomorrow morning. I’d have to create an awesome story to convince them I’m normal and what happened to James and Doug were accidents. And I’d have to avoid using my powers… pretty much forever.
I was about to roll over again but froze when I heard something. It was a soft creak that came from my bedroom window. I opened one eye, and gasped. My window was wide open!
Panic swept over me. The silhouette of a man stepped quietly through the window. It was too dark to see his features, but I could tell he had a mask on and was holding something long in his hands. A knife! He walked softly toward my bed. He was going to kill me in my sleep!
But I’m not asleep. I thought. And I am a super human. My panic was immediately replaced with confidence. My red stone rested under my pillow, close enough for me to draw on its energy. I summoned my powers and exploded out of the bed in a burst of speed. The would-be murderer didn’t even see me coming.
He looked confused, at least I’m sure he did under his ski mask, when, in less than a second, we were both suddenly outside in my back yard, with me lifting him off the ground by the neck. I brought him outside, so I wouldn’t wake up Mom. It took the guy a second to realize he was choking; he grabbed at my hand, trying to pry my fingers from around his throat. My hand wasn’t red hot like it was with Doug for reasons I couldn’t explain.
“Who are you and why’re you trying to kill me!” I said with bared teeth. He didn’t answer. Probably because I was choking him. The question was meant to be rhetorical.
I yanked off his mask and didn’t recognize him at all. He looked to be in his late twenties. He had brown skin like me, but he looked like he was from the Middle East. He had a well-trimmed beard and had what would have been a handsome face, if it weren’t for the burn scars on his left check and neck. A memory flashed. This guy looked a little like the robber I took out at the gas station, besides the scars. Maybe he was the robber’s brother, come to get revenge. Bad idea for him.
He gasped for air, but I didn’t let him go. Or maybe this guy was working for a news station. He’d acted like he would kill me just to see how I would react. I looked around the yard; this would be a perfect place for them to catch me on camera. I no longer cared to know who this guy was. I squeezed his neck a little tighter.
Then, something completely unexpected happened that dismissed both of those theories. His eyes began to glow. Just like mine, but silver. My jaw dropped. He extended his arm and aimed his palm at my chest. Suddenly, I was thrust off my feet by something invisible, losing my grip from around the guy’s neck, and then I crashed through the brick wall that separated my yard from the neighbor’s.
It hurt… a lot. Going through brick walls usually kills people, ya know? My breath was knocked out and my head throbbed. I lay there in my neighbor’s grass yard for a moment, trying to catch my breath, and trying to comprehend what’d just happened. He has powers like me! I thought. And he’s trying to kill me!
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I hurried to my feet, ready to run or fight, but the guy was still in my backyard on the ground, wheezing. I approached him cautiously. His eyes weren’t glowing anymore. He held his throat and coughed, looking up at me. “So, it’s true,” he said with a half cough and half chuckle. “You’re a Starling.”
I still kept my distance from him. “A what?”
He wheezed for more air before answering. “You touched a Star Stone, didn’t you? A glowing meteorite?” He had a slight accent, but I couldn’t place it.
I approached him carefully. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t hurt you—can’t hurt you. I, unfortunately, don’t have my stone with me. You know what it’s like to use your powers without your stone nearby, right?”
I nodded. I’d used my powers far from my stone a couple days after finding it. It’d felt like the life was getting sucked right out of me within seconds. Sorta like the Princess Bride when that guy gets hooked up to that machine that literally sucks the life out of him (don’t tell anyone that I’ve seen that video). That explained why this guy was on the ground still after using his powers. “Who are you and why were you trying to kill me?” I asked again, this time it wasn’t rhetorical.
“My name is Mark. And I wasn’t trying to kill you. I just wanted to know for sure whether you were a Starling.”
“You could’ve just asked.”
“You would’ve lied. Just like you’ve been lying to the press this whole time.”
He had a point. “I didn’t know there were others like me. Other—what did you say? Starlings?”
“Starlings, angels, gods, demons, vampires, werewolves, monsters… we’ve gone by many names over the centuries. And yes, Ray Simmons, there are more of us. At least there will be, ever since the Condescension last week. You were the first one that got caught on the news, and I had to see you. See if it was true. I’ve been waiting for this day for centuries!”
This guy had to be insane. “Dude, you just said centuries. Work on your English. You meant years.”
Mark laughed, his breathing clearing up. “I guess that was too much too fast.” He slowly sat up. “My English is fine, believe me. Shakespeare would be proud. Ray, when you touched that stone, you got much more than comic book superpowers. You tapped into the power of the gods. All the mythological gods you know of: Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Christian, Norse, et cetera. They were all real. Hercules, Thor, Ra, Sampson. They were all immortal Starlings.”
I narrowed my eyes. Besides the scars on his left cheek, his face looked young. He was shorter than me and his upper-body wasn’t huge by any means, but his muscles were well-defined and chiseled like an ancient statue. He didn’t look a day older than twenty-five. “Immortal?” I asked skeptically. “Are you saying that you… and I… can’t die?”
“Yes… well, technically you can still be killed. Sort of like the vampires in Twilight, or the elves in Lord of the Rings. If someone cuts off your head, then yes, you will die. But, if you remain unharmed, then you will live forever.”
I remained silent, trying to soak it all in. Me? An immortal god? The idea was nuts. Completely impossible. But then again… just a week ago superpowers were impossible too.
“So, Ray. Which constellation is yours?”
“Uh… my constellation?”
“Yes. You haven’t even noticed that yet?” He scoffed, sounding offended. “No one pays attention to the stars these days. Blinded by your modern lightbulbs, you are. I’d wager you don’t even know the phases of the moon.”
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head.
Mark clicked his tongue. “It’s a real shame. Only a few hundred years ago, that was common knowledge to even the poorest street rat.” He slowly pushed himself to his feet, looking mostly recovered from using his powers without his stone, and looked up. “Look at the sky, Ray, and try to find the brightest group of stars you see. It should be an easy find, even this deep in the city.”
I followed his gaze toward the night sky. I’d never taken the time to really look at the stars. I’m not a star hater or anything, it just never crossed my mind. It didn’t take me long to see what Mark was talking about. One cluster of stars shone far brighter than all the rest. “There,” I said, pointing almost directly above my head.
Mark looked at where I was pointing and slowly lowered his head. “Ah,” he said as he pensively scratched his goatee. “Interesting.”
“What is it?”
He looked at me. “Do you know what constellation that is?”
“No clue. Just looks like a curvy line.”
“It’s Draco… it means dragon in Latin. You are the Dragon God, one of the most powerful Starlings ever to walk the earth.”
I gazed up at the constellation. “Draco, huh?” It really did look like a curvy line of stars, but I guess—when I tilted my head—I could see how it could look like a dragon arching its back with the box of five stars on one end representing its head. I looked back at Mark. “So, next thing you know, I’ll be flying and breathing fire, right?” I laughed, meaning it to be a joke.
“Eventually.” Mark looked completely serious. I stopped laughing. He glanced behind me at my neighbor’s house, whose porchlight had just turned on. “I need to go, but first I would like to make you an offer. I could train you, Ray—teach you how to truly tap into your powers. You’ve barely scratched the surface. I’ll teach you how to fly and how to use your fire powers, and in return, you will help me to find my Star Stone.”
“You lost your stone? How?”
“Irrelevant. Accept my offer and I will see you again soon. What do you say?”
I thought about it for a short moment. It seemed simple enough. “Sure. Whatev’s.”
“Good,” he replied with a smile. He started walking around my house toward the street. “Sorry, again, for barging into your house. It’s the only way I thought I could reach you.”
“No prob. Just, next time… knock on the door, or call or something. Okay?”
He nodded, and we quickly exchanged phone numbers. “I’ll contact you soon,” he said. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Draco.” He walked around my house and disappeared into the shadows of the night.
“Draco,” I said under my breath. I looked up at the constellation again. He said the constellation was made for me? Haven’t the constellations been there for millions of years? Constellations can’t be made; they’re just imaginary dot-to-dot shapes in the sky that ancient people came up with, right? I didn’t know for sure.
I yawned and remembered how tired I was. It was a little after 1:30 a.m. I was about to walk back into my house, when my neighbor’s back door opened behind me—the neighbor whose brick fence between their yard and ours now lay in shambles with most of the debris spread across their yard.
My neighbor, Mr. Mortenson, an elderly guy, wearing nothing but shorts and an exhausted expression, noticed the obvious hole in his wall and looked straight at me, looking so furious I thought his head would explode.
I drooped my head and sagged my shoulders. “Here we go again.”