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Authors: Cheyanne Young
head into the wall. It takes a lot to knock a Super unconscious, but I’ll need to do that if I want to drag him and his friend into Central. He lets out a sigh and rubs his head casually, like it wasn’t just split open on the side of the freaking Grand Canyon.
    “You need to leave. This does not pertain to you.”
    “You bet your evil freaking ass it pertains to me,” I snap. “You think I’m not good enough to defeat you and drag your pathetic unconscious body back in to Central so they can give you the depowering you deserve?” I’m yelling, but there’s no reason to stay quiet when the approaching villain would be able to hear even whispers by now. I peek around the corner to be sure and see him not even one hundred yards away. He moves slower than necessary, his back pressed against the wall. I realize the desperation flowing through the air isn’t from the bloodied villain at my feet, but from this other twerp being terrified of heights.
    “Please go home,” he says again, rising to his feet. “If you stay you will be in certain danger.” I’m in a ready stance, preparing to attack him but he spreads his arms out in surrender. His communicator isn’t just any communicator. It’s the newest model BEEPR. Dad will want to hear about this—apparently villains have some kind of back market to smuggle our high tech equipment.
    “The only one in certain danger is you.” I take his outstretched hands and swing him through the air and around the corner, kicking my feet off the wall so I go with him. We land on the other side, bringing me one step closer to the open steel door that leads safely back into Central.
    His eyes go wide beneath his mask as the second villain steps closer to us with each passing second. He throws a punch in my direction, aiming squarely in the middle of my forehead, but I duck and his hand crashes into the wall, sending dust into the air.
    I throw a punch toward him and he blocks it, as expected, giving my other fist the perfect time to slam into his jaw. He stumbles backward and rubs his cheek. “Why are you so strong? You’re just a kid.”
    Why does everyone underestimate me? I should shatter every one of his bones with my bare fist and only when he’s begging for death, will I kill him.
    I shake my head. Heroes don’t kill. Why am I thinking like that?
    I block another punch and kick him straight in his man parts. A sinister snicker comes from a few feet away, where my second villain is now so close I can see his ashen teeth. He’s dressed in black from head to toe but his worn-out suit has years of rough treatment showing in its Kevlar.
    He must be the lackey while pretty boy here is the brains of the operation. Air leaves my lungs as I’m shoved aside. The first villain jumps in front of me, pressing me against the wall. The second villain gives us appraising look over, before dismissing me and focusing his attention on the other guy.
    I am so sick of people overlooking me.
    With a running start, I leap toward the mountain and kick off high enough to jump over the villain in my way. As I push off the wall, I swing my leg to deliver a brutal kick to the second villain’s face, preparing myself by sending a jolt of power through my bones. If this doesn’t knock him out, he’ll wish it did.
    A smile tugs the corners of my lips as I watch my foot nearing his masked face. And then my ankle fills with pain as the bones crack beneath the weight of his grip and my body flips upside down. He grunts, holding me in the air by my foot. Panic fills every cell in my body. “This isn’t your fight, kid,” he says. With a flick of his wrist, he throws me off the ledge.
    A satisfying laugh fills the night air as I plummet hundreds of feet through the sky.

 
     
     
    I’m falling.
    Head over feet over head over feet. I can’t breathe. I can’t see because wind and dust force me to keep my eyes shut. I can’t think and, worst of all, I can’t stop myself. I’ve never been so

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