The Power

When Tom Barnes wake up in his bed, dreading the science final at school, he never thought he'd be on the run from a shadowy government agency. And with powers none the less.

When Tom Barnes awoke he was disoriented. He looked around his room, wondering where he was. He had these types of fits sometimes; where he was somewhere he knew, but couldn't quite place the location. He slowly stood up. Last night had been dreadful. He had had to study for his chemistry final exam. And he did study hard. He was one of those students who didn't submit to peer pressure, who got good grades and who was really popular. He got along with the cool kids quite well. Though he was bullied at some points in his schooling, he never let that get him down. 

He slowly got out of bed and trudged toward his closet. He threw the door open and looked inside, grabbing a fistful of clothes and throwing them onto his bed. Tom walked to the door of his room, opened that, and decided it was best to take a shower before the long, stressful day of exams. He threw off his clothes, got into the shower, and let the water wash all his worry from him, at least for the moment. After about ten minutes, Tom stepped into a towel, and walked back into his room, where he proceeded to get dressed for school. 

Tom slowly pulled on his clothes and combed his wet hair. He then went down the stairs. And of course, his mom wasn't up yet.

Tom had had a rough life in patches of it. Three years ago his mother and father divorced and a huge custody battle ensued, leaving Tom with his mother after several months of fierce debating. At that time he was a bullied, depressed child, who received bad grades and was nearly thrown out of his school for fighting. But he now he had forgotten about all of this misfortune, and now that he was in high school, he was starting to take it more seriously, even though he was in the tenth grade. He grabbed a piece of bread and placed it in the toaster. He sat at the table, anxiously awaiting the toast to be done, when he heard something. He couldn't quite place it. 

He whirled around, to see if his mom had entered the room. But nope. She was still asleep. Weird, he thought. He heard an echoing, sounding as though it were coming from his head. But what the hell is this? Tom heard the toast pop, walked over and grabbed it. He took a bite out of it when...

...no this can't be happening oh no o no...

What the hell? He heard this; it was his mothers voice. You need to do better in school son. Why was her voice in his head?

He heard the door slam. His mother was up. She walked into the room. Tom held his head, suppressing a scream. Oh God I am so tired. Why do I have to get...

[Oh that's right!!! I have a son I need to send to school. How brilliant!!]

It was as if there thoughts were connected somehow. But he had never heard this before. So he just sat and wondered what had happened overnight; why he was having these premonitions of him being able to read his mother mind. 

"Hey son," his mother said. "Anything wrong?" Tom was clutching his head, a small whistling sound running through it. It sounded like a siren.

"No, why would you say that?" asked Tom.

"Well you are clutching your head so I was just wondering."

"Oh. That. I have a bit of a..."

[headache]

Now his mother was hearing it to. She looked strangely at her son, her expression vague, his flopping around all over, dressed in a blue bathrobe. She walked toward him.

"I think you should get to school now Tom," she said. 

"I don't wanna go though...what about..."

"About what?"

"You know. The strange..."

[power]

"Try to suppress it."

"What the hell is going on here mom? Has this happened to me for...?"

[Get out of here now!!] she shouted in his head. He ate his toast and was bounding out the door, his backpack slung over his back. This was weird. What the hell was it was what Tom wanted to know...needed to know. He walked down the street. Tom grabbed his Ipod, plugged his headphones into his ears, and as was custom when he was walking to school, he drowned out the world around him. It wasn't long until something even more strange happened. He moved his hand just a fraction of an inch and something flew, slamming into a car window. The car alarm was raised. He heard that clearly through the blasting music and knew he had to get the hell out of the area. He unplugged the headphones and ran to an abandoned ally where he used as a shortcut to the school. In the distance he saw the huge building of the school. This would be the last time he ever saw it.

..............

Little did he know someone was watching him as he walked to the school. A man, dressed in all black, carrying binoculars, sat perched in a tree, watching the events unfold. He was a tall, muscular man, a soldier if you will. He raised his two-way radio to his mouth.

"We got him over," said the man.

A voice cackled over the radio. "Good. I want you to take him alive. He looks like a smart kid so watch out. Shoot him with the tranquilizers if he runs.Over.

"Yes Captain," said the man. "I have several guards in position, ready to get him. He is in our sights Over."

"Good. We need that power...whatever it is, that he has. It will help us on the great war. Over."

"Captain. What if he escapes? Over," mumbled the man.

"Then, when you get your sorry a*s back here, we will kill you. Simple as that. Over and out." The man was now alone. He looked down and saw the boy. He then saw his soldiers, armed with small submachine guns. The man smiled. This boy would not get away.

..............

Tom was heading down the street, when he noticed the black, unmarked SUV that seemed to be following him. He saw a man in it. A man that was looking at him. He continued toward the school and suddenly everything happened so quickly. The van stopped, and six men, armed with machine guns, jumped out of the SUV. Tom heard the shout of orders an then was running. He twisted toward ally he had just come from, hearing a clattering of machine gunfire from behind him. He heard footsteps on the pavement and knew these men would catch up to him. Who were they? Tom came to the end of the narrow space and reached the road. He ran across it, causing several cars to skid to a stop. He saw one one of the soldier level a machine gun at Tom and pull the trigger. Bullets slammed the sidewalk right next to where Tom had been standing moments before.

There was screaming and the streets were in chaos. The armed men saw him and pointed, racing through the streets. Tom had no time to comprehend just what was going on, so he continued to run. He jumped over a car that skidded to a stop. The man behind the wheel placed the palm of his hand on the horn. There was another clattering of

[visions visions. The men, a government agency...wanting to get me...but why just why would they want to harm a harmless high school student who]

gunfire.  Thomas raced down the sidewalk and threw himself into a dark, abandoned alley. He sprinted down the alley as fast he could before planning a really high jump. He sprung from the ground and landed on an awning that draped over the window of an apartment building. He jumped from the awning and landed on the roof of the apartment, continuing to run. He heard the sounds of men talking, shouting orders, below him. Thomas rushed forward, seeing a gap in buildings at this dead end. He skidded to a stop and looked down. It was awfully far up. If he missed the landing then he would be dead. Though he would probably be dead anyway due to the men below him carting around machine guns.
         He looked. Turned his head behind him. Saw the top of a mans head. Heard the footsteps of their boots clomping along the pavement. He looked forward again and...
         ....and jumped.
         He landed on the roof just barely, doing a somersault as he landed, knocking over a picnic table laden with food. The woman in the house screamed something inaudible and raced toward Thomas. But he was long gone. He bounded down the roof and again made a jump, only this one was a lot less high. The sounds of machine gun fire lit through the air as he ran, trying to avoid the gunfire. In the distance he saw the ending of the roof. And over the roof was a wire topped fence. He skidded to a stop and whipped around. One of the soldiers held his gaze, placing the crosshairs of the machine gun upon his scared face. Thomas backed up. He raised his hands. One of the soldiers raced toward him, thinking he was surrendering.
        He jumped.
        And fell.
        The leader of the soldiers looked down. Thomas was continuing the run. He dived behind a corner and out of site. The Unit Leader looked at his other soldiers. "We need to get this boy and take him. Bill isn't gonna be happy," said Team Leader.
         Another soldier looked at him. "As far as I'm concerned, he is property of the United States military. We will stop at nothing to get this boy."


   ..................

     Thomas stopped at the corner of Whinchester and 56nd, panting, sweat trickling down his face and soaking his hair. His legs screamed with pain, his hair, matted with sweat, sticking up horizontally. He wanted to know what that was all about. Why was he being chased by armed soldiers through the city who looked to be apart of the United States military? In the distance he heard the sounds of sirens, and figured the cops had heard the commotion, the popping of gunfire, and was wondering what the hell was going on.
   "I am wondering the same thing myself," Thomas said aloud. He proceeded into a dark alley where he sat and contemplated his predicament. No where was safe. Now he would be on the run. He had skills. Karate...mixed martial arts. And he knew how to handle a gun.
      He looked around at the cars speeding down the street. Thomas moved his leg and whelped in pain. The muscles were screaming with pain. He wasn't use to running like that. It was even worse than gym class when the teacher made each student run for ten minutes straight, and if the student slowed down or stopped completely, she would add another minute to that. They usually ended up running for about twenty minutes, wasting a perfectly good sixty minute time period for gym. One of his other skills was that he knew how to drive.
     He was seventeen and had gotten his drivers license exactly one year ago. He could so something like that if he needed to get away quicker.
     Another thing weighed on his mind.
     What about the strange occurrence that had happened this morning...the morning that had felt like a week? He had read his mothers mind and his mother had talked to him using her mind. Why was he just finding out about this telekinetic power now? Just yesterday he had been a normal kid with normal problems; bullying, girls, friends, stuff like that. But now he was an abnormal kid with special powers that was being chased by the United States military. He cradled his head in his hands. He didn't feel good. His head throbbed and pounded. He stood up, but he needed to use the brick wall right beside him to steady him so he wouldn't fall down. He tottered for a minute before regaining his balance. He had to get home somehow...tell his mother that he needed to get help..tell her he loved her. He slowly traipsed along, looking like a bum on the side of the road.


    ..................

      Team Leader parked his unmarked, blacked SUV, right in front of Linda Barnes house. He stepped out of the car, locked and loaded, with three more soldiers, all wearing protective gear. Now they knew something about the boys mother...they had studied her for quite a while. She was dangerous. They had to catch her unexpectedly. Team Leader motioned for his other soldiers to take up positions surrounding the house. He raised his machine gun pinned himself to the front of the house. He grabbed a smoke grenade that hung off his vest and lobbed it through the open window. Once the grenade popped, green smoke filled the room and the soldier smashed their way through the house. Team Leader slammed the butt of his gun on the door, sending wood splintering, and causing the door to be knocked from it's hinges. He raised his machine gun and entered the premises. Team Leader heard a sudden scream. Linda. She was home.
      He ran through the room. He heard a sudden clattering, but it wasn't gunfire. He turned toward the noise and saw Linda slamming her fist into the wind pipe of a poor soldier, crushing his throat. He raised his machine gun and fired. The bullets hit all around Linda. She dived toward a desk and grabbed her own pistol, firing it. Team Leader jumped out of the way as another soldier was hit in the chest, disappearing in a spray of dark blood. Team Leader fired his machine gun. One of the bullets hit Linda. She was down. She screamed.
     Blood poured down her leg. One of the soldiers, the last one aside from Team Leader, grabbed her. He tried to tie her up, to capture her.
      Suddenly police sirens sounded.
      This wouldn't look good. Linda wrestled with her captor. And then she used all her strength and pushed the man off of her. But it seemed that she didn't use her hands. Telekinesis, thought Team Leader. Team Leader tackled her, grabbed a tranquilizer from a pouch in his vest and stabbed her in the neck. She drifted out of consciousness for the meantime.
        "The boy will come here to find his mother," Team Leader said, helping the other soldier up. "He will be very disappointed. He may even decide to come after us. When...if he does, we will kill him. I don't care what Bill says. Got that?"
         "Yes sir," said the other soldier. The crept out the back.


                                   ................

   Meanwhile, the cops had showed up at the house because they heard reports of gunfire. Agent Sanders, one of Michigan's finest cops, stepped out of his vehicle, and walked through the bashed in front door. He pulled his pistol, and waved away the gas that was left. He entered the building, along with Tom Keller, a newer edition to the police department.
    "What went on here?" asked Sanders.
     "Looks like a raid of some kind," Tom replied.
     "In this small, rural neighborhood? Seems impossible," said Sanders quizzically. He turned to the living room and gasped. On the floor, lying below him, was a dead man, spreadeagled, blood congealing on his throat. Tom had to look away. He hadn't tackled one of these cases yet. Sanders knelt down, grimacing at the metallic smell of blood. He touched the blood and shivered. It was still fresh. This murder had only happen not even an hour ago. He looked through the room and saw another man on the floor, neck bent at a weird angle. His windpipe had been crushed.
     "Sam Keller, we have a double murder on our hands."

   ...............

Tom was walking down the sidewalk, limping a bit. The pain in his legs had subsided a bit, but there was still a dull throbbing that pulsed in his legs. He had been walking for about fifteen minutes now and he could see his house in the distance. A cop car was parked in front of the house and crime scene tape surrounded the premises. He limped forward a few more steps and was right in front of the house. A cop, Agent Sanders, stepped out of the house and walked toward his car when he stopped Tom, just standing there, watching. 
"What is your name kid?" asked Sanders.

"Tom," he replied. "What is going on here?"

"A murder son," Sanders said. 

"Is my mother OK?"

"She isn't one of the victims so I am assuming she is fine. Where exactly is she?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I was attacked by some armed men. I think they may have wanted to get her as well," said Tom.

Sanders looked at the boy. "Armed men? What kind?"

"They looked to be soldiers," Tom replied, "armed with machine guns. They tried to kill me and I ran."

"Why would they try to kill you?" asked Sanders.

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. But could you look into it?" 

"We can try." Sanders walked away. Tom stepped forward, walking over the crime scene tape. He proceeded toward the front door. And then it happened again. What had happened that morning. With us mother. The voices inside of his head.

...what the hell is this kid doing? This is a goddamn crime scene, we don't need some dumb kid messing with our...

....What does he mean armed men...who...what? Why would someone kill him? Or try to...

....try to get get in this door...try me TRY ME THERE ARE DEAD F*****G BODIES INSIDE THE DOOR!!!

Tom shuddered. He moved forward. A cop tried to stop him. He pushed his hand forward. The man was sent flying through the doorway. Tom slammed his foot in the mans jaw, sending him crumpling. He moved through the house and saw the two dead bodies. He gasped.

But they looked to be the soldiers.

They were...which meant...

The soldiers had taken his mother!

He bellowed. A cop raced into the house to see what was wrong. Something exploded. The roof disintegrated. Tom was pissed. He pushed his hands forward and sent to cops flying through the air. He moved forward, twitching his hand to the side, flipping a cop car. It landed several feet away. And exploded. People around the area were getting out of their houses, looking at the spectacle before them. There was clatter of pistol fire. Tom twisted his hand around and snapped the cops neck. 

....this guy is a monster. We need to subdue him NOW NOW!!

....WHAT THE HELL IS WITH THIS GUY!! WE NEED TO RUN AND GET THE F**K OUT OF HERE NOW...!!!

Tom walked forward, pushing guys out of his

[what am I am doing...what the hell am I doing to all these police officers...do I wanna get thrown in]

[it wouldn't really matter if I ended up in the hole...prison. I would just break out, killing everyone in my way, but kind of a life is that? And plus mom could be killed and I can't let that happen just CAN'T LET IT HAPPEN!!]

way. His subconscious was arguing with him. He moved forward, toward a black, unmarked vehicle. He started to run. He jumped into the car. The keys were in the ignition. He turned the key to the left and the engine to the car roared. Tom slammed his foot on the gas pedal and the car lurched out of position and picked up speed. He heard the sirens behind him as the cops were chasing him. He twisted the wheel to the right, fishing tailing the car through traffic, slamming the back end of the bumper against the curb. He smashed his foot on the gas and placed forward the stick shift. The car was moving at a fast rate. He heard gunshots from behind him. Tom had a premonition that there would be a gun in the glove department, so he opened it and sure enough there was a pistol lying there amid junk, papers, and what looked like old bills that hadn't been paid off. He checked the clip. It was full. He turned to the right this time and once one of the cops came into view he rolled down the window and fired a couple of the shots. 

The bullets slammed into the windshield, causing a spiderweb crack of glass. The cop car moved through traffic, as did Tom. He saw a red car coming in front of him fast. Tom twisted the wheel to the left, and nearly missed the car. But he sideswiped it. The crinkle of glass could be heard as the black car slammed into the red car. In the distance he saw an intersection. He pulled back the stick shift, placed his feet on the gas and break, and skidded through the intersection, winding up on the west road. He heard horns blaring and heard the scraping of metal against metal. One of the cop cars slammed into the barricade of crashed, civilian cars, and flipped over. Behind Tom, several cars erupted in a luminous fireball. He thought he had lost the cops for now, when he saw a roadblock right in front of him. He put his medal to the metal, the speedometer reaching 140 miles per hour. He smashed head-on into the roadblock. A cop car flipped over his car and landed behind him, a twisted and mangled piece of metal. Tom heard several shouts. He came across another intersection when...

The world around him turned red with machine gunfire. He twisted the wheel to the right and used the rear view mirror. A black, unmarked car had appeared all of a sudden, a man leaning out an open window, a machine gun in his hand. Tom continued to speed down the road as the man fired single shots at Tom's head. Bullets shattered the back window completely. There was a loud clatter of gunfire. The bullets whistled past Tom's head, to close for comfort. He weaved through traffic, trying to make the SUV crash, roll over, something. He saw a highway entrance ramp coming up. It looked as if he wasn't going to use it, but then he changed his mind and swerved onto the entrance. The SUV turned at the last second and slammed into the cement barrier. The man with the machine gun was nearly thrown out of the vehicle. Tom looked in the mirror and saw the driver recover, before placing his foot on the gas and chasing Tom again. 

Tom swerved into traffic. He weaved in and out of the cars. The sounds of gunfire followed him. He saw the SUV drawing closer. And he careened into the median. Dirt and dust kicked up at the tire treads cut through the grass, cutting small trenches in the dirt. The SUV slammed into a little blue car, running it off the road. The SUV then swerved into the median and began chasing Tom on the grass. Tom grabbed the pistol from the passenger seat and placed his hand out the window, firing several shots. The glass on the front of the SUV nearly shattered, causing the driver to take several big swerves. The driver looked as if he were going to flip, but then he righted himself. People on the highway skidded to a stop, screaming.

Tom could hear sirens again. 

He had to lose this crazed man in the SUV. Ahead of him, on the street, he saw a police roadblock. He went as fast as the car would go. Bullets flew past him. He twisted to the left and slammed into the police roadblock. The SUV followed through the mess of mangled metal. One of the cops pulled his pistol, but the man in the SUV fired his machine gun. The cop fell, riddled with bullets.

Tom drifted through all the lanes of traffic and decided it was best for him to get off the highway. He turned on the exit ramp. The SUV followed. Tom twisted his car around. Now they were on a country road. Tom took another turn, a steep one. The SUV tried, but his car couldn't take it anymore. The SUV flipped over. Tom skidded to a stop and opened his car door, walking toward the crashed SUV. He aimed the pistol at one of the men in the SUV.
         "Where is is she? My mother?!" Tom demanded.
          "We don't know..." stuttered one of men.
         "Liars," snarled Tom. One of the men tried to scramble over broken glass for his machine gun but was kicked in the face, nose breaking, dispersing blood. He picked up a pistol from the pieces of bloodstained, shattered glass, and aimed it at the man in the front seat. "Tell me where the hell my mother is, or I will put a damned bullet in your skull." The man looked at the pistol.

"A warehouse. Hundreds of miles from here. You won't get her in time. They will kill her. And you if you cross them. Just don't try to..." a bang cut through the stuttering mans speech. Blood and clumps of hair flew from his head. Tom walked away from the mangled wreckage. He would find and wreck havoc on the government agents who were after him, who were trying to kill his mother. He would make them feel hell.

......

David Carson was sitting in a chair, disappointed at his men. They had been sent with one simple task; to capture the boy, bring him to them. But they had failed; the boy had escaped, and had killed several of the agents, had gotten the police involved. The agents had then proceeded to kidnap the boys mother and had brought her to a warehouse just fifteen minutes away. The boy would soon be here; David knew it, the rest of the agents knew it, and he would pay the price. The boy would die with an iron fist. 

David stood up from his seat and walked to the outside, where a black, unmarked van pulled into the parking lot. Several armed men stepped out of the van. All of them worked for David.

"What is this about? Has the boy escaped yet again?" asked David, knowing the answer full well. 

"Yes he has. He was on route 19, in California, where he had led the cops on a pursuit, before meeting some of our men, running them off the road, and then killing one of them. The police has put out a warrant stretching all the way out to here in hopes of finding this boy," said the first man. His name was Bill. 

"We need to catch him. Find him. And kill him," said David. "Now go out there and find him. Don't stop searching until I have proof of his dead body! Understand?!"

"Yes David," said Bill. Bill and his men jumped back into the van and then sped off. David was smiling. He knew that this time his team wouldn't fail. And if they did they would die. Simple as that.

Tom was nearing an alleyway.

He moved forward and stepped into it, panting, blood running down the side of his head, a pistol clutched in his sweat drenched hands. He needed to know why these men were after him; why they had taken his mother and why they threatened to kill him. Tom pushed the pistol into the waistband of his jeans. He needed to get to the warehouse, get his mother back, and kill the men who were pursuing him. And what's worse; he had the police on his tail as well. They would surely complicate things for him. He limped forward. A car was parked beside a darkening brick structure that looked to be crumbling. He leaned against it. To regain his balance. He had no options; his father had left him at three, he had no siblings, his mother was kidnapped, he had no food or water and men with machine guns were chasing after him wanting to kill him. He stopped right in front of a church that was right beside him. He looked in and saw a few people there, but it seemed that no one saw, so he lowered himself from the ledge. A salty tear trickled down his face, mixing with the blood that smeared his face. He just sat there and cried.

He knew he had to be tough.

But to him it seemed impossible. He stood back up. The journey would continue.

David was sitting in his office, legs crossed upon the oak desk that was the staple of the room, when an armed guard walked in, armed with a machine gun, wanting to speak with David.

"What is it Bob?" asked David.

"That kid, he has some sort of powers. Powers that will make him valuable to people like..."

"Yes. I know this information."

"How did he get them?" asked Bob.

"He was probably born with them and now he is starting to realize the full potential of them," said David.

"Is there a way we can get these powers?"

"I'm not sure. Come back later. I will think of this." Bob left the room leaving David to think if the ordinary people, like him and his army, could potentially obtain these powers. He sat and thought.

Tom was sitting on the curb. He was wondering when the next of the armed men would come. Cars flew by. He was totally lost. Desperate. He didn't know what he was going to do.

He limped toward a fire hydrant.

A man, crouched on the roof of a building, leveled a sniper rifle at Tom, who was walking toward a red, rusting fire hydrant. He was dressed in black. And he meant business. In the alley where he was above, a group of armed men were waiting to ambush the boy if he didn't die first.

Tom sat down near the fire hydrant...

It all happened so quickly once he sat down.
A bullet streaked across the sky, parting his hair, slamming into the cement wall right behind him. Tom saw an SUV advance from an alley. Chatters of gunfire filled the air. Tom ducked.

Bullets slammed into the wall.

People on the street screamed, running all around. The SUV halted and men armed with machine guns stepped out, firing at Tom. He dived behind an alley and started to run. He heard screams. Voices. He heard another bullet from above. It stuck the ground just beside him. One of the men rushed him as he paused, momentarily looking for the sniper that was somewhere above. He twisted around and slammed his foot into the mans gut, sending him reeling. Tom smashed his fist into the side of the mans head, causing him to crumple to the ground, face streaming blood. Tom grabbed the mans gun and fired wildly into the crowd of advancing men, sending them scattering, causing a handful of them to be hit my bullets. 

A clattering sound.

Fireball erupted from the cement as a grenade explode, making Tom momentarily dazed and confused.

He ran.

Tom ran toward the end of the alley, jumping on a car, and leaping onto an awning. He nearly lost his footing, but quickly gained moments after, running down the roof. Machine gun fire followed. He looked below. Soldiers were trying to climb to try to get to him, capture him, kill him. A sudden explosion. A bullet coming close to his face. The sniper. He was now everybody's target.

He raced across the roof, coming to the end of this part and jumping off the edge, landing on another metal part of it. He fired the machine gun behind. Bullets hit no one.

He heard another crack...an explosion.

A bullet slammed into the metal roof. 

He twisted around, searching for the sniper with his eyes, but he could not see the man who was firing 20 caliber bullets at him. The first of the men had reached the roof. Tom fired his machine gun, killing that man and knocking him off. He ran again. This time he dived to the right, jumping onto another building altogether, landing on his feet and flipping to the side. Bullets zinged past him. He ran til he reached a staircase in which he flew down the stairs, running as fast as his feet would carry him, trying to get away from the...

He was hit. He fell. 

Where was he? He opened his eyes. Light. Bright light. Blinding light. And he saw a man. Who? Where the hell was he? Darkness.

Reviews

[Westy]

If I can offer any - amateur - criticism, maybe try and describe what's going through the head of the character, give us some inner dialogue and feeling. At the moment, it has a real Matthew Reilly vibe to it and really isn't too different, but it's not particularly engaging, it just feels like a plain description of events. That, and you seem a bit too eager to get into the action.