Rage like June had never known threatened to tear her apart—white-hot, racing, burning, all-consuming rage. She was drowning in it, boiling in it, breathing it. They had shot at Brendan purposefully. They had meant to kill him. Her arms and legs spasmed with power—more than she’d ever felt, even in the backyard with Dolph.


    June rocketed forward and didn’t care if they knew her location; no bullet could touch her now. No one was going to hurt Brendan.


    The forest was no impediment to June’s comet-like speed—she covered ground at a dizzying pace and had reached the tall grass. She heard a deafening crack. The ground erupted behind her and then off to the right of her. She didn’t waiver or try to dodge the shots, but continued on a dead-straight path, gaining speed.


    June could hear them clearly as she drew closer, one on the roof of the research facility, one on the right side past the parking lot. Their hearts were racing, recognition dawning on them—she was coming. Another shot rang out; grass blades erupted behind her. The second shot followed on its heels, missing her widely.


    The shooter on the roof was closer, so June focused on him first. Each stride took her longer, farther, faster up the gentle slope toward the building. Scanning the rooftop, she recognized the shooter. Rudolph.


    Of course, she thought. Had Dr. Chase been there, she might have tried to kill him too.


    Taking her last stride, June leaped, soaring upward toward the roof. As June rose through the air, Rudolph raised the gun. Up soared June, closer and closer. Up came the rifle, nearer and nearer. As she crested the roofline, Rudolph had the weapon ready. June stared into his face and saw abject terror. Good. The rifle pointed straight at her. She could see his finger moving. She twisted her body in a corkscrew as Rudolph fired the shot.


    The bullet flew just above June’s shoulder as she rotated. It was a roar in her ears as it passed by, never touching her. She landed on her feet, and in one stride, hit him like a bomb. His body jerked and cracked as her claws pierced his chest, and still moving forward, she spun like a shot-putter and released, hurtling him as high and as far as she could.


    Rudolph let out a choked shriek, which quickly faded as he rocketed—literally rocketed—higher and higher into the air. He was heading toward the moon, and a stream of glittering red trailed behind him, growing shorter with each weakening heartbeat. He was still moving upward and outward as June landed back on the grass on the other side of the building and turned toward the other shooter’s location. June knew it would be Dolph waiting for her.


    ***


    Sitting in the clearing, Brendan heard more gunshots, then a scream, and looked up through the clearing in the trees toward the sky just in time to see a dark shape streak across the moon’s face, continuing upward. After the shape had disappeared in the darkness, it dawned on Brendan what he had seen: a man, or something like a man, flying so high he would eventually be a danger to airplanes in the area. The man was not flying like he was in control; he was twisting end-over-end like a rag doll.


    Brendan’s eyes widened with wonder as his mind worked to figure out the kind of power needed to turn a man on the ground into an aircraft-threatening missile. So that was what “they die” meant. His stomach twisted at the thought June had just killed someone. He told himself she’d done it to protect him. And heroes did kill sometimes, right? When they absolutely had to?


    ***


    June knew exactly where Dolph lay hidden: to the side of the parking lot, beyond the fence on a small hillock. She saw his head pop up in the distance and their eyes met. In her first stride, June watched his face contort with fear. Then his expression changed into something stiff, like he knew death came for him and he intended to face it.


    Dolph hopped to his feet and dropped a rifle. He began to Shift. In her second stride, June covered almost twice the length she had in her last stride; she was really building up speed now. In her third stride, June leaped the fence and covered a vast distance in the air. She saw that Dolph was nearly done with his Shifting. In her fourth stride, she was on top of him.


    He had turned demon-badger just in time, holding up his claws and roaring. Not that it mattered—the force of her impact splintered his claws, his hands crumpled, and his arms bent back unnaturally as the bones in them shattered. June’s paws caught him squarely in the chest. Dolph’s roar died immediately as June’s claws pierced him. Still gripping him while she continued her forward momentum, he was trampled and crushed before she shot upright, lifting him and spinning for her second shot-put attempt.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Now June roared, and Dolph followed Rudolph into the sky, toward the moon, and eventually, on his descent, deep into the forest beyond the lab. He made no sound in the air, and red trailed behind him, too, occasionally shining in the moonlight. No one would ever hear from or see Dolph or Rudolph again. And no one, except perhaps Brendan, would know that June had set several world records that night: farthest shot put in history and farthest throw of a human being. To be fair, Dolph and Rudolph also set records as the human beings that were thrown—or quasi-human, at least.


    June made a wide arc back toward the lab, easily hopped the fence again, and came to rest between two cars in the parking lot: Cordelia’s Jeep and Dr. Langley’s SUV. Sitting between the two vehicles, June heard a storm of creatures in the forest fleeing deeper into the woods after all the gunshots and roaring. Noises sounded from inside the lab, and as she focused and her ears revolved, she could make out two discrete voices.


    Just Dr. Langley to deal with now.


    The fierce, burning desire to kill showed no signs of dissipating. As such, June found herself not immediately returning to Brendan, but fighting to take control. It had felt incredible to have so much power coursing through her. It had felt even better to use that power to kill those who had tried to hurt her (and had indeed hurt Brendan). Her body, and a part of her mind, screamed to crash through the doors to the lab, find Dr. Langley, and unleash that very same power on her. But another part of her said to calm down, to breathe, to go back and check on Brendan to make sure he was still okay.


    In the end, June ran back to Brendan. She found him exactly where she had left him. And he had taken her advice, sort of, and was on his second Twinkie.


    “I happened to see what looked like a man soaring past the moon. Would you know anything about that?” he asked.


    In spite of the fact Brendan—her Brendan—was bleeding from a gunshot wound to his shoulder, and in spite of the blood of two men soaking her arms and chest, June could not stop a laugh from escaping her lips. Brendan gave her a comedic look of confusion as to what was so funny.


    She shrugged and said, “It was Dolph and Rudolph. They wanted the fastest flight back to wherever they came from. I gave it to them.”


    They both laughed briefly until Brendan turned serious. “You killed them,” he said, making eye contact before looking at his feet.


    June nodded. Brendan could say what he wanted about heroes not killing, but she wasn’t a hero, this wasn’t a book, and Dolph and Rudolph had been evil. She felt no remorse. “I did.”


    Brendan moved his legs and scooted into a more upright position, wincing. “It took you a while to get back here,” he said and looked into her eyes again. “I was getting worried you weren’t coming back for me.”


    “I’ll always come back for you,” June responded.


    An owl hooted in the distance, reminding her of Cordelia. She rooted through the backpack to see if any hot dogs were left and found one more package. She pulled it out, sliced it open, and realized Brendan was watching her. A cloud of shame darkened her mind, until she reminded herself of their conversation in Dr. Chase’s kitchen. Still, she ate the hot dogs one at a time instead of inhaling them.


    “So, what do we do now?” Brendan asked.


    June continued to devour hot dogs. “What time is it?”


    “11:45.”


    “Then you continue to rest and stay here—”


    Brendan’s face tightened. “Not happening. I want to be there when you confront your aunt. It’s the super-hero against super-villain showdown, and you might need my help—”


    “Uh, no. You just got shot in the shoulder. I don’t” —her voice wavered— “can’t have you getting hurt again.”


    “I’m not leaving you now, June. The bleeding has practically stopped, and my shoulder feels much better, see?” He tried to move his arm and grimaced, but it did indeed move. “And you need backup in there.”


    “How are you going to back me up with a bum arm?”


    Brendan pulled a Twinkie out of his backpack—with his good arm—and flung it straight ahead. It landed squarely on the large knot of a tree about twenty feet in front of him. “See? I’ve been practicing. Didn’t you see me with the hot dogs at Dr. Chase’s? I hit him square in the face. You need that kind of accuracy if things get dangerous.”


    “Brendan…” June fought back a grin. “Please. You can keep practicing your processed food throwing to pass the time—”


    “What about the Geiger counter?”


    June frowned as she considered his point. “We know who the demon is. I’m not that concerned about the serum anymore.”


    Brendan attempted to stand up, gritting his teeth. June started to help him, but he put his hand up in protest. “Look, if you’re scared, I understand, but you can either come with me, or I can throw these Twinkies by myself, so what’ll it be?”


    June laughed despite her frustration. He had shown deadly accuracy when Dr. Chase surprised him in the basement. “You are so stubborn.” She would never admit it, but she was pleased. June had not seen this side of Brendan before. Granted, she had never seen him with a gunshot wound in the shoulder before either.


    “Are you good for one more ride?” she asked. “We need to get to the lab quickly and finish this.”


    Brendan tested the range of motion of his injured arm and eyed June’s neck. “What if we power-walked together this time?” He stood and awkwardly fastened his pea-cloak around his shoulders again, covering the sweater secured over his wound.


    June smiled. “Sure. We can do that. Twinkies must have under-appreciated healing powers.”