Hometown Hero Read online

  “I have to go,” he said suddenly, hastily grabbing his pants off the floor and scrambling to get them on.

  “What?!” Mara snapped. “No—no, you're just going to leave like this!” she ordered.

  “I'm sorry,” Mark mumbled as he made for the door.

  “Mark! You can't just leave like this! I won't let you!” Mara yelled, snatching his boxers and button up shirt that he hadn't taken time to bother with and pulling them on as she chased after him.

  “No, Mara!” he ordered, his voice still strained from anguish. “Just stay here, it's not safe.”

  He crawled into the driver seat and she ran around to the front of his truck and slammed her hands into the hood. “If it's not safe enough for me, then it's not safe for you, especially not like this! I'm coming with you!” she insisted, her voice authoritative but heavy with concern.

  “Damnit, Mara!” Mark snapped, jumping half out of the driver seat so one leg was still in the car and one was out, his head above the roof of the tall truck. “Why the hell do you even care?”

  She stepped back in shock, her mouth gaping.

  “I'm worried about you,” she finally mustered, the authority gone from her voice, her lips tugged into a frown.

  “Why?” he asked, his tone going icy and defensive, making Mara wince. “You made it pretty damn clear to me in there what you think of me.”

  “That doesn't mean that I want something bad to happen to you!” Mara yelled. “It doesn't mean that I want you to run off!”

  “Then what does it mean?!” Mark yelled back.

  “It means I think I still have feelings for you and I don't know what the hell to do about it!”

  They stared at each other, both breathing heavily, speechless after their outbursts.

  “You look hot in my boxers,” Mark said finally, keeping a straight face, but clearly trying to break the tension. He had always done that.

  Mara fought a smirk. “Shut up.”

  “Get in,” Mark ordered. “Quick.”

  “Are you going to tell me what's going on?” Mara interrogated as they both took their seats in the truck.

  “Probably not,” Mark said, starting the engine and peeling out of her driveway, hitting the road at a furious speed.

  Mara swallowed hard and squirmed in her seat, clutching the available handles.

  What on earth was going on? she wondered. What had she gotten herself into?

  ***

  It was pitch black out, save for some soft white moonlight peeking out from behind silver clouds. The truck pulled to an abrupt stop, and Mara recognized where they were. Mark had brought them to the lake, the memories of that first time they made love flooded her again.

  But why had he come here?

  He panted nervously, huffing through his nose—maybe trying to control the pain still, she thought.

  “Whatever happens, stay in the truck,” Mark ordered, turning to face her and looking at her intently. More intently than normal, too. There was a fear and necessity in his eyes that she had never seen before.

  Mara bit her lip and nodded.

  He grabbed her by the nape of her neck, grasping her wavy hair in a fist, and pulled her into a deep, desperate kiss. He broke away and rubbed her cheek before turning to get out of the truck.

  “Mark!” she cried out, grabbing his arm before he exited. He turned back and gave her a gentle smile.

  “Don't worry, I'm not going to let anything happen to me,” he said. “Not fifteen minutes after you said you still had feelings for me. Now, please, stay in the truck,” he repeated.

  Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest as he pulled his arm out of her grip and made his way down the dark lake road. Once he was out of the truck's headlights, completely engulfed in the black of the night, Mara started to panic. Ignoring his orders, she jumped out of the car and squinted into the distance. The thin silver cloud that blocked the moon slid out of the way just in time to shed a little light on the road, and she saw it.

  An accident, in the ditch off the side of the road, one car a smashed, shattered mess, and the other flipped upside down. Mara moved closer, trying to focus in on the wreck to see if there were any people, and to see where Mark was.

  How did he know this accident was out here...in the middle of nowhere...?

  Her eyes caught a tall, hulking figure pulling a limp body out of the overturned car. They both disappeared into the brush alongside the ditch, and she tried to follow their movement, but her focus was pulled suddenly to flames spitting from the engine. Adrenaline flooded her veins and her heart began to pound in her chest.

  That car would explode if those flames found gasoline, which surely had spilled all around the wreckage. And Mark was right there—she couldn't breathe. She felt like running toward the cars, screaming a warning of some kind, but she had no voice, and her feet were rooted to the pavement in fear.

  Just as she managed to find her legs and take a step, the upside down car rose off the ground, hovering above it a few feet, then higher, then higher a couple more feet still. Then it launched forward, as if it were thrown, soaring over the road toward the lake. Mara jumped and her heart leaped into her throat as the car exploded into a giant ball of flame just before hitting the water with an echoing slap.

  The flames sat on the surface of the water for a few moments before they extinguished, a soft, reflected orange glow in the corner of Mara's vision as she sprinted down the lake road to the location of the accident. Mark crouched on the ground, his chest heaving, right where the over turned car had been.

  His head snapped up as she approached and he quickly held his hand out in a gesture that meant 'don't come any closer'. From her standing now, she could see two figures in the bushes in the ditch. One was laying on their back, squirming, while the other kneeled at their side in watch.

  “We need to call an ambulance,” Mara said, taking a few more steps toward him.

  He again held out his hand for her to stop, then laboriously heaved his body to a standing position. He began to walk toward her, his feet dragging, shoulders slumping, the signs of pain from before still present on his face, but now mixed with exhaustion.

  “They should be here soon,” Mark muttered through a tight grimace, clutching his bare chest, his gait limping and lifeless, like a zombie. “This car had an emergency response system,” he added, gesturing to the less-damaged car with his thumb.

  He faltered, which wasn't surprising with how he was hobbling and dragging his feet, and Mara rushed the few feet in between him to his side. She steadied him with her hands on his torso.

  “Are you okay?” she asked with a level of concern she usually reserved for her animal patients.

  He nodded, but the hand at his chest and slumping frame and pained facade disagreed with him.

  “I'm just...uh, drained,” he said. “We need to get out of here before the paramedics come or we will both have to answer questions.”

  “You are going to answer questions either way, Mark,” Mara warned.

  “I don't mind answering to you,” he groaned through his pain and exhaustion, “but let's please just get out of here so I can at least lay down.”

  His body must have liked the sound of that, as it lurched forward as if it intended to face plant in the road. Mara quickly wedged herself underneath him, positioning herself under his armpit like a crutch and pulling his left arm around her neck. They walked back to the car, the near deadweight of his exhausted body pressing down on her with each step. When they arrived at his truck, she helped him into the passenger seat and took the driver's seat herself.

  “I told you to stay in the car,” he muttered, his voice tired and weak.

  Mara turned to look at him. His neck had completely relaxed so his head flopped back against the headrest, angled awkwardly toward the ceiling of the cab.

  “And you thought I would listen?” Mara scoffed.

  “Not for one second,” he replied, his eyes closed, not turning to look at her
, but a distinct quiet levity in his tone. “My house, please. It's near Main Street, on Amber Lane,” he grunted, squirming in agony in his seat.

  Amber, like his eyes, Mara thought.

  NINE

  When they reached Amber Lane, Mara slowed the car drastically, causing Mark to stir awake in the passenger seat. He pointed out the window at a cozy looking, almost cottage-like house that sat on the other side of the Amber Lane Park. Mara had always thought 'park' was a bit lofty of a word, since it was just a lot that never got purchased or developed, and was turned into a green space with a few rose bushes, a bench, a drinking fountain, and a picnic table.

  She pulled into the driveway and turned the engine off, quickly exiting the truck to come around to the passenger side and assist Mark in whatever way needed.

  “I'm—I'm fine,” he protested. “I'm good, I promise.”

  He hauled himself out of the truck with great effort, and began heading toward the front door, his gait a little more energetic, but still rather stiff and labored, almost as if he wore an invisible suit of armor.

  Once inside, Mare helped him get comfortable in a semi-recumbent position on his sectional sofa, fluffing pillows for him, then rushing to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

  “A beer, please,” Mark corrected upon seeing her pull out the water pitcher. “I need something with actual calories in it. And it helps, with the pain...”

  With a frosty bottle of beer in hand, she sat on the sofa at his feet and opened it for him, then handed it to him. He chugged it down eagerly and smacked his lips after several gulps.

  Mara had made it a point not to say anything during the drive back into town, not wanting to stress him further, and he had said he wanted to get somewhere to lie down first. But now he was laying down, and looked relaxed, at least not as drained and anguished as he had been looking, so now she felt okay to speak.

  “What...what the hell is going on, Mark?” she questioned, her voice soft and intrepid, but full of concern.

  Mark sighed and took another several sips of his beer.

  “How did you know about that accident?” she asked when he didn't answer promptly. “Did you—did you lift that car, an-and throw it?”

  Mark nodded in silent response, his lips still on the mouth of his beer, his eyes not making contact with hers.

  “How?!” Mara uttered.

  He shrugged and a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “Fight or flight?” he suggested.

  “Don't bullshit me, Mark,” Mara snapped. “This is serious! I've never seen you in that kind of pain before. Something's going on. And adrenaline can help you lift the backside of the car, sure, but it doesn't let you lift it over your head and throw it a hundred feet! That's like—that's like—”

  “Superhuman?” Mark interjected.

  “Yes, exactly,” Mara said, nodding. Then, as the words truly hit her, she cocked her head. “Wait, are you saying...” She trailed off as he started to nod in confirmation.

  Mara's jaw dropped, and she tried to form words, more questions, but nothing came out.

  “When I woke up from the surgery, the doctor said he'd had some complications,” Mark explained. “After we did the follow up scans, he said he'd damaged a nerve, and that I'd likely never regain by ball control coordination in my right arm again because of it.”

  “Mark, I'm so sorry,” Mara whispered. “I can't imagine how you must have felt.” She placed a comforting hand on his knee.

  He swallowed hard, and when he spoke, his voice threatened to break with emotion. “I should have told you. God, it would have made everything better just to have you by my side, but...” he paused for a deep breath and wiped a small droplet from the corner of his eye, “I was embarrassed. Basketball was my whole identity. Who would love me once that was gone?”

  “I would have,” Mara said.

  “I know, and I realize that now, and you were right. I should have had faith in you. In us,” Mark replied. “But I was young, and stupid, and scared shitless. And I guess I felt it was better to be the one who left before anyone had a chance to leave me.

  “At first I crashed with a buddy I knew in Montana from a national skills camp in high school,” Mark continued, “and worked at his dad's lumber mill to save up gas and rent money. Then, I heard a few of the other workers talking about a mining operation in Alaska that was paying serious money. The sports networks were still going nuts about my disappearance, and my buddy was harassing me to go home—I was afraid he was going to out me, so I left him in the middle of the night, too, and headed for Alaska on a bus.”

  He paused for a few sip of his beer, then continued. “I was really, really good at it. I didn't have the best control of my right arm yet, but I was working some specialized machinery that took a decent amount of aim and depth perception to operate, both of which are skills I honed in basketball. It wasn't long before they moved me up to another division of the corp, deep into the mountains, for an extremely high-paying supervisor position.”

  Mara squeezed his leg reassuringly as his body tensed noticeably, and he seemed like he didn't want to go on with his story. He took a long, steady inhale and sighed it out.

  “We were mining an element so rare that it had just been discovered, and literally hasn't even been reported to the public yet. The mining corp had military contracts and the element and all information regarding it was classified as top secret while the US Armed Forces worked on weapon and defense capabilities. If anyone finds out I told you this, we are both in huge trouble.”

  Mara's pulse quickened to an uncomfortable level. Now she knew why he didn't want to keep talking...

  “The ore has been named Olympium, after Mount Olympus,” Mark explained, his shoulders tightening and hardening visibly as he said it. “It's stronger than titanium and shifts to a mildly-radioactive liquid form unexpectedly, nobody has been able to pin down why yet, but it maintains its solid like strength in its liquid form. Hence why it's so desirable for defense and weapons purposes.

  “Anyway, one night, about six-months ago, I got called in to cover for the night supervisor since his wife was in labor, and there was an accident...”

  “Oh my god,” Mara muttered, not even aware the words were coming out of her mouth until they did.

  “One of the workers was repairing some equipment, and it shorted a circuit, swung one of its arms on him and knocked him into one of the shallower shafts. I panicked and jumped down after him with a harness and rope. I got him into the harness and the rest of the guys pulled him up, and I started to climb back out. I had my bare hand on some exposed Olympium and didn't even realize it...until it shifted to its radioactive liquid form.”

  “Jesus!” Mara gasped. “What happened?”

  “I screamed. It was the most painful thing I've ever felt in my life. A thousand times worse than my shoulder injury. I let go and fell to the bottom of the shaft, I ripped my shirt off and tried to wipe it off but it didn't matter. It had already covered my arms, my chest, started running down my legs. And by the time the guys pulled me out, there was no sign of it at all. It had absorbed into my skin.”

  “Holy shit.” She placed a hand over her mouth in shock.

  “I was pretty sick for a few days, but went back to work feeling fine. Then I started noticing things...weird things. I was playing basketball for fun at the gym with some of the guys from work, and my control was back...my injured arm was back to normal, like the nerve damage wasn't there anymore. At all. Like it had been healed. Or better than healed—my arm was stronger.”

  Mara's eyes went wide in excitement. “That's good, right?”

  “I thought so, at first,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I wasn't just stronger in my arm though, I was stronger everywhere. Superhuman strength, I started to find out. I could push the giant heavy machines at work around with my bare hands. I could jump multiple stories with the power from my legs. But then, the bad stuff started happening.”

  “The bad stuff?” Mara ask
ed, her hand instinctively squeezing his leg.

  “I was...hearing things,” he said slowly. “Or, more like sensing them. Screams, cries, panic, distress, pain—it was awful. Terrible. Crippling nightmares and headaches and anxiety. I had to quit work because I couldn't focus. And every time I'd get one of these...feelings...these episodes, I'd have these horrible shooting pains that went from the hand that first touched the Olympium up to my shoulder where the injury was, and sometimes going into my chest.”

  “And, you still have that...” Mara sighed, sympathetically.

  Mark nodded. “But, soon I figured out how to sort of tune into the 'distress calls', I came to think of them, and could sort of sense where they were coming from, like a weird built in sonar for pain and danger.”

  “That's how you found the accident tonight,” Mara said.

  “Exactly,” he said. “But it's just been so hard. So confusing and nerve-wracking and...and painful. Not just physically, but—Mara, there are times I haven't gotten there in time, and times that I got there and there wasn't actually anything I could do and it just-it just kills me,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. She inched closer to him and grabbed his hands to comfort him. “God, it feels good to finally talk about it. I've just been wandering around in darkness for months, it feels like.”

  “Maybe that's why you came back,” Mara suggested. “You needed a trusted person, a friend or family, that you could tell, so it wouldn't weight down on you so heavily.”

  Mark cocked his head in contemplation and then nodded. “I think you are completely right,” he agreed, his face going soft with relief. “I'm glad it was you,” he added, locking eyes with her. She squeezed his hands reassuringly. “I mean, I'm really sorry to put this all on you—”

  “No,” Mara said firmly. “No apologizing. I am here for you. Whatever you need.”

  Her heart ached for him, filled to the brim with a mix of emotions: sympathy and pain, sadness and admiration, caring and love. They had created a bond by sharing this secret of his life, and it had awoken all the feelings she still had for him that she had shoved into dark corners of her heart and mind.