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Chapter Four: Supercharged
Malik stared at Dre, still processing his words. Supercharged? Malik had suspected something was up with him since the accident, but hearing Dre confirm his own powers felt surreal.
"What do you mean?" Malik asked, his voice quiet but insistent. "Are you stronger? Faster? Can you feel emotions?"
Dre's brow furrowed in confusion, and Malik could sense it, as clearly as he could feel the excitement bubbling just beneath Dre's surface. "Wait... you don't seem that shocked," Dre said slowly, his eyes narrowing. Then, as if connecting the dots, he added, "And what do you mean `feeling emotions'? Wait a second--are you supercharged too?"
Malik sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Can you stop calling it that? It makes us sound like we're in a comic book. We're not superheroes or anything."
Dre crossed his arms, waiting for more. "But?"
"But... yeah," Malik admitted, lowering his voice. "I've been different since the accident too."
Dre's face lit up with excitement, and Malik couldn't help but feel it himself. His friend's enthusiasm was contagious. Dre leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. "What can you do?"
Malik hesitated for a moment but decided to tell Dre the truth. "So far, I'm stronger, faster, and my endurance is insane. I've been active all day, and I haven't even broken a sweat. And then, I can feel people's emotions--like, I can sense them--and I can manipulate them too."
Dre blinked, clearly taken aback. Malik could feel the shock, like a rush of cold air between them. Had he said too much? He scanned Dre for any sign of fear or distrust, but there was none.
"That's... a lot," Dre finally said, his voice trailing off. "I mean, I haven't felt anyone's emotions or anything like that. But I'm definitely stronger. And faster. Way faster."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "How fast?"
Dre glanced around, like he was checking for eavesdroppers, then leaned in. "I tested it last night. I was moving so fast that I almost crashed into a car, but instead of hitting it, I swear I phased right through it."
Malik stared at him, mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Phased through it? Come on, man, maybe you jumped over it or something. You don't just run through cars."
Dre shook his head confidently. "Nope. I know what I saw, Malik. I went through it. It didn't make sense, but then again," he paused, pointing at Malik, "neither does controlling other people's emotions. I'm not calling you a liar, am I?"
Malik couldn't help but laugh at the comparison. He had to admit, Dre had a point. He ran his hand through his curls, considering everything. Then Dre's face suddenly brightened in realization. "Wait--you did that to me earlier, didn't you? After practice. You made me feel... I don't know, less stressed."
Malik raised his hands in a mock-surrender gesture. "Okay, okay, guilty as charged. I didn't mean to push anything on you, but you were freaking out."
Dre laughed it off, his mood lighter than before. "No worries, bro. I'm glad you did, or I probably wouldn't have told you any of this."
They stood there, silence settling between them for a beat. Malik shifted, feeling a new weight on his shoulders. "Do you think we should tell someone? Like our parents?"
Dre's smile vanished, and he fixed Malik with a hard stare. "Are you stupid, man? What do you think our parents are gonna do when they find out their boys have superpowers? We'd end up in some lab somewhere, strapped to a table while scientists poke at us."
Malik frowned, his mind racing with the possibilities. "I hadn't thought about that... but I still don't think we have `superpowers.'"
Dre rolled his eyes. "Dude. You can control emotions. I can run through cars. If that's not superpowers, I don't know what is."
Malik fell quiet, the realization hitting him like a punch. This wasn't just some weird side-effect of the storm; this was real. And he'd already told two huge secrets in one day. How long could he keep this quiet? The thought gnawed at him, especially considering the possibilities--what if the whole team was affected? Could it be more than just him and Dre?
"No," Malik muttered to himself. "I would've felt it by now if more people were like us."
"What?" Dre asked.
"Nothing," Malik replied, shaking his head. "We should keep this quiet, at least for now. Let's just... keep track of what happens. Meet up and talk if anything changes."
Dre nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I'm down. This is insane. But kinda cool, right?"
Malik couldn't help but grin, his own excitement building. "Yeah, it's definitely cool."
Dre glanced at the time on his phone and groaned. "Ah, man, I gotta go. My mom's picking me up after practice, and if I'm late, she'll lose it. I'm gonna run home, shower, then run back before she gets here."
Malik raised an eyebrow, amused. "Run home? Isn't that going to take longer?"
Dre shot him a wicked grin. "Watch this."
Before Malik could respond, Dre took off in a full sprint. Three seconds later, a sonic boom echoed in the distance, and Malik's jaw dropped. Did Dre just break the sound barrier?
"Okay," Malik muttered to himself, still in shock. "Maybe we do have superpowers."
Malik jogged back toward the school, a new confidence bubbling up inside him after talking to Dre. He pushed himself harder than usual, testing his own limits. Every step felt light, easy. He realized, with a jolt, that he could run faster than his top speed before the accident--way faster--but he made sure to slow down as the school came into view. No need to draw attention.
By the time he made it back to the locker room, most of the team was already in the showers or dressed and heading out. Malik rushed to undress, feeling the need to keep up appearances, even though he didn't feel like he needed the shower. But the warm water felt good, and he let himself linger under it longer than usual. The rhythmic spray washed over him, easing the tension in his muscles.
Just as he finished, something hit him--hard. Malik froze, his body stiffening as he felt a wave of panic surge through him, followed by sharp, blinding pain. And then... nothing. The emotions vanished as quickly as they came.
Malik snapped out of it, adrenaline spiking. He had felt that panic from somewhere outside the school, not in the locker room. His heart pounded as he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist, half-dressed, and bolted out of the locker room toward where the emotions had come from.
A few blocks away from the school, Malik found him--a young man lying on the street, bruised and bloodied. As Malik approached, the pain flooded back into him, weaker this time but still present. He's alive.
Malik knelt, scooping the man up in his arms without a second thought. He needs help. Now. The hospital was too far. Malik's house was closer, and maybe, just maybe, his mom was home. She could help. She always knew what to do.
He took off running, feeling the man stir in his arms as the pain seemed to intensify. Malik pushed himself harder, praying he'd get home in time.
When Malik finally burst through the front door of his house, his parents weren't there. No. No. No. He rushed to the bathroom, running a bath, hoping the warm water would at least soothe the man's injuries while he figured out what to do next. But when he returned to the room, the man was sitting up, groggy and confused.
Malik felt the surge of emotions from him--confusion, fear, panic. The man's wide eyes locked onto Malik, and Malik had to calm him down, letting the tension melt away. "It's okay," Malik said softly. "You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."
The man relaxed slightly, his voice hoarse and broken. "Who... who are you?"
"I'm Malik," he said. "I found you like this. This is my house. My mom's a nurse, she'll be back soon. Are you hurt badly?"
The man shook his head weakly, though his face was swollen and bruised. "No. Just... sore."
Malik paused, unsure what to do next. "I was going to help you take a bath... clean you up."
The man croaked out a shaky, "No, I can do it." He struggled to stand, and Malik helped him up, guiding him to the bathroom and shutting the door to give him privacy.
While the man bathed, Malik called his mom, filling her in on what had happened. Her voice was frantic on the other end, calling on Jesus and expressing how horrible the situation sounded. "I'll be home in a few hours. Just make sure he eats and rests. I'll take a look at him when I get back," she instructed.
"Yes, ma'am," Malik said, hanging up the phone. He quickly busied himself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. His mom had prepped everything earlier--steaks marinated and ready to go, vegetables cut for steaming, and potatoes waiting to be baked. Malik threw the potatoes in the oven first, knowing they'd take the longest, and then turned his attention to the steaks, cooking them all to medium.
As he moved about the kitchen, the man emerged from the bathroom, clean and looking slightly less battered. He was slim, with a swimmer's build--lean muscle and smooth, toned skin. He looked about 5'9", his Korean-American heritage apparent in his features. He wore Malik's old gym clothes, which hung loosely on his frame.
"Thanks," the man said, his voice still weak. "But I... I should go. Back to school. I'm a student."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Not before you see my mom. She's a nurse; if you're not going to the hospital or the police, she's the next best thing."
The man hesitated, but Malik didn't sense fear or confusion anymore. Instead, he felt something different--hunger. The man's eyes subtly drifted toward the kitchen, his body betraying his longing for the food.
Malik chuckled softly, the tension breaking. "Smells good, doesn't it? Don't worry, you're invited to dinner."
As he set the table, Malik glanced back at the man, curiosity bubbling up again. "By the way, what's your name, man?"
The man paused, his lips parting as if searching for the right words.