Fearless Protector: Phoenix Warriors, #2

By Ryan Ignersoll

Even the greatest heroes have to start somewhere.

What good is having the ability to heal if you can't help yourself? Alexander is paralyzed, and his depression threatens to halt his progression as a superhero.

Alexander isn't the only one struggling.

Superhero. Billionaire. Happily married. Life couldn't be better for time traveler Dwade. But then, in an instant, his life comes crashing to a halt.

As Alexander struggles to find his way and move forward despite the non-use of his legs, Dwade turns to the only thing left for him--darkness. Can Philadelphia survive a clash between the two?

Fearless Protector contains action, drama, highs and lows, romance, and light gamelit elements. If you love superhero origin stories, this one's for you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ryan Ingersoll
• Release date: Jul 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393800538

Book preview

1

How in the world was it May third already? Alexander Lyons had been in Penn Hospital for six days now. It had been a long and terrible week. It wasn’t every day a person had their back broken by a supa.

How could someone with superpowers be so ruthless? So bitterly angry? Why attack someone you didn’t even know? The news report on the TV called the villain responsible Mimic. His true name was Ace Jackson, and he had come from a lot of money. The news had talked about Ace a fair amount, but Alexander hadn’t wanted to hear it. He didn’t care what had caused the rich, snobby teenager to snap.

The world had changed since supas were first discovered and not necessarily for the better. The media first started to report on supas thirty years ago. Scientists had been studying them ever since. Alexander wouldn’t be surprised if there had been supas fifty years ago or even further back, hiding their powers from the rest of the world.

Which might have been the smartest play, but if someone had the ability to fight like a superhero in comics, shouldn’t they? Then again, people were always hurt in the crosshairs.

Like Alexander.

With a sigh, he flipped through the channels. Nothing good was on, but then again, he didn’t really want to watch TV. He didn’t want to be here, but the doctors hadn’t given him a timeline for when he could be discharged yet. For now, he was stuck here, unable to heal himself and forced to be poked and prodded by doctors and the rest of the hospital staff.

At least he had been given his own room. Well, not at first. Alexander didn’t tell very many about his power, but he had no choice. After his initial surgery, the nurse brought him to a room to share with someone. They didn’t have a surplus of rooms no matter how much Alexander had begged. His roommate… Alexander couldn’t even remember his name, but he could still hear the guy talk in his nightmares. The guy never shut up and hardly ever seemed to take a breath. He didn’t eat either, taking maybe a bite before continuing to tell some story about something random. Alexander had to sleep. It was nearly three AM, and Alexander wasn’t about to listen to Matchbox Twenty or this guy. Alexander had blurted out that he was a supa. The roommate had freaked out, and suddenly, a room opened up.

He hated to play on people’s fears, and the general population did fear supas. Seriously, though, they shouldn’t. He could heal others. What was so terrifying about that? Nothing to anyone else except Alexander. When he healed a person, he experienced their loss, their pain. Whatever their worst memory was, he suffered through it for as long as he healed them.

But he couldn’t heal himself, so there was a real danger that the damage Mimic had inflicted could be permanent. The surgeon had operated a total of three times, but Alexander remained paralyzed from the waist down.

Again, he switched the channel to a baseball game. The Phillies were losing. Nothing new there. He never had been able to get into baseball on TV, only when at Citizens Bank Park, so it wasn’t much of a distraction.

His mind began to wander, and he thought about Hazel. She was maybe a few years younger than his twenty-two years, and she was a supa too. Both she and Mimic had the ability to control plants.

For several days now, the news was talking about a new superhero here in Philly who went by the code name Rosethorn. She had come with Alexander to the hospital, which she hadn’t needed to do. While he had been on the operating table, she had left to fight Mimic again.

Watching the news while it talked about her was a little easier to swallow. Mimic had gone after his parents and tried to kill them. Hazel had stopped him from killing the mom at least, but his father… Apparently, Mrs. Jackson was arrested for killing a woman. No, for having the woman killed. Alexander knew there was a connection between the woman and Ace, but he hadn’t bothered to listen to the specifics. All in all, the Jackson family was seriously messed up.

For the most part, the news wasn’t covering the story anymore, maybe because of the Jacksons’ wealth. At least the stations were still talking about the superheroes in the city. Rosethorn, Guardian, and Master of Time, were all trying to improve the reputation of supas. Another one too. Spectacle. Alexander hadn’t paid enough attention to know what her ability was, though, only knowing her by name.

It was frustrating that so many still feared people with incredible powers. There were a few who worshipped supas. Alexander didn’t want to deal with either at the moment, or ever really.

He shut off the TV and tried to clear his head. Earlier today, Marie Blair had visited him. The wizard had told him he was destined for greatness, that he was going to help those around him.

This wasn’t the first time Marie had told him this. She had come around when he was fifteen, shortly after he had first discovered he was a supa. Back then, she had been going on about the whole destiny thing, but he had been in high school. His parents weren’t keen on the idea of him ditching school to fight crime or whatever else Marie had in mind for him.

But now, there was no way that Alexander was destined for anything but a wheelchair. The last thing he wanted to be was some team’s mascot or cheerleader. He just didn’t see how he could help anyone.

Sure, he could heal, but he wasn’t very good at that considering he couldn’t even heal himself. He was a low level supa, and honestly, he was weak. Maybe if he were to gain levels, he could heal himself, but how could he heal enough people to become a high enough level that he might be able too?

Maybe if he could open up a clinic here in the city. Maybe he could try to mask his healing with herbs. Yes, word would spread that he was helping everyone, and that would draw attention. Yes, some of the employees here at the hospital knew he was a supa. Yes, it would be a risk because of so many hating supas.

But then he could be a superhero too in his own way. Maybe Marie was right.

Or maybe not. How in the world was he going to open a clinic? He didn’t have the money to get a lease on a place. He didn’t even know how he was going to be able to get around. He was a teacher, but how long would it take for him to get out of the hospital? To get used to his new way of life? Would he even be able to return before the school year ended?

His salary wasn’t wonderful, and if he couldn’t work, he would be screwed. He would have to give up his apartment and might have to sell his car. He wouldn’t be able to drive himself anywhere.

No, the clinic was a pipedream. This had been his first year teaching, and he loved it. Sixth graders could be a little tough with all the cliques and puberty, but the kids had been good all year for the most part.

All this was eating him up inside, and he wanted to just forget about it. He longed to be rid of the pain, of the suffering. The pain wasn’t physical, though. His body didn’t hurt. Below the waist, he felt nothing, and that was even worse. If he could feel his legs, even if they would be in aching and sore, he would be happy. But the nothingness made him beyond depressed. What was the point of being a supa with the ability to heal if he couldn’t even heal himself?

Maybe Mimic had it right. Maybe turning to the dark side was the way to go. Could he really consider switching his affiliation? Alexander had always been good. His readout had always said he was good, never neutral. It had taken him a little while to get used to the readouts, especially since they hadn’t given him much information at first. Over time and maybe as he gained levels, he could read more and more about a person and their attributes.

He shut off the TV, and the lonely room became dark. Alexander was ready to leave and be done with the place. He already knew the results of all the tests. He would never walk again. Even if he gained a ton of levels, he wouldn’t be able to heal himself. His power was meant for others, not himself. The doctors tried to be optimistic, but Alexander wasn’t having it.

Maybe he would try to nap. Closing his eyes, Alexander drifted off to an uneasy sleep.

Somehow, it was April twenty-eighth again, and Alexander was back at the cemetery. He had spied two people in the distance. They seemed to be arguing, but he was going to mind his business. Part of him had been tempted to use the supa built-in stat scanner to see what they were, but he didn’t. He didn’t scan people unless he had a reason to, and being nosy wasn’t justification.

The dark-skinned teenager left, but the female teen lingered a moment. Alexander ignored her and succumbed to his grief, crying slightly. The sight of his parents’ graves always overwhelmed him. He missed them more than he dared to admit, and every time he visited them, he couldn’t contain his emotions, his sorrow, his grief, but especially his guilt.

He hadn’t been a high enough level to save them. Alexander hadn’t even been there when it happened, hadn’t even had the chance to try to heal them, but he knew. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to heal them. Not from the extent of their injuries.

They had bled out, victimized and murdered by a serial killer who had also slaughtered nine other couples over the course of a year. Richard Westin and his rampage… It made Alexander sick to even think about him. His fiancée had cheated on him, and something in Richard had just snapped. Thankfully, he hadn’t been a supa because who knew how many more he could’ve killed. All of the females in the couples had hazel eyes. Alexander had his mother’s eyes. Hazel. Just like Rosethorn.

As if his thoughts had conjured her in this dream that was more a memory, Hazel appeared next to him and started a conversation. Are you all right? she asked.

Not really, Alexander said with a shrug. He didn’t look her in the eye for fear of scanning her. He wasn’t sure what he’d find, but he didn’t think he should be making important decisions while he was in such a bad headspace.

Yeah. Being here pretty much means not being all right.

Alexander laughed. She was right, and the truth was refreshing. It does. Thank you for that.

You’re welcome.

Hazel was easy to talk to. The conversion was refreshing, and when they left, they walked out together.

That was when the attack happened.

For Alexander, it was over before it started. Even though he was a supa like both of them, he wasn’t a fighter. He was more support. All Mimic had to do was wrap a vine around Alexander and squeeze. That pain had been more intense and horrific than anything Alexander had ever felt before. Was this how his parents had felt when they had been stabbed all of those times?

The pain was so intense. Alexander couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t do anything but experience gut-wrenching agony, and in those moments, Alexander wanted to die. Then, he could be with his parents in heaven.

Yet, Mimic didn’t kill him. Hazel defeated Mimic before he could finish the job. Alexander owned Rosethorn his life. More than his life considering his life now wasn’t worth much at all.

Alexander woke and wiped his tears away. If he hadn’t left the cemetery with Hazel, if he had lingered by his parents’ grave, he wouldn’t be paralyzed. He wouldn’t be here in the hospital. He would be home, in his bed, ready to head to school to teach.

Despite the dark room, he could make out the flowers and cards his students had sent in. How would they react to seeing him in a wheelchair? How was the school going to handle his disability? They did have ramps because all schools were required by law to have them, but he wasn’t even sure how he would get to the school and home each day… wherever home was going to be.

So many unknowns. So many questions and fears. It wasn’t as if he had been teaching at the school long. This was his first year. He’d been hired fresh out of college.

But all of those worries were for later. First, he had to get through this and figure out how to deal with the loss and the suffering. He had to somehow make peace with all of this, even if he wasn’t destined for great things.

2

Dwade Ortega loved being a supa. The Hispanic was one of the good ones, even if his scan dictated he was neutral good. He strove to use his powers to help those around him. Traveling through time was a blessing. For the most part, he played by the rules and stopped villains, those who were pure evil and needed to be dealt with.

He had learned about the grieving teen who had turned evil, Ace or rather Mimic. Dwade had planned on trying to stop him, but Rosethorn had appeared on the scene. Dwade hadn’t even realized the teenage girl was a supa.

But she had taken a different route by attacking and scaring off Mimic. Dwade would’ve showed Mimic