Supranormal: Supranormal Trilogy, #1

By A.S. McDermott

For sixteen-year-old Julie Jackson, being able to punch through brick walls and shrug off knives and bullets is no dream. It's a curse that could land her in prison for the rest of her life, or worse.

A generation after the Supranormal War decimated the world, Julie lives in hiding with a group of other gifted teenagers, called Supras. Guarded by a telepathic veteran, they try to stay one step ahead of the Normalizers. This ruthless police force, immune to their powers, is tasked with hunting them down to prevent another war. When Julie breaks their cover to rescue another Supra, the Normalizers attack their hideout and capture their guardian.

Forced to flee, Julie and her friends have one last hope. The rescued Supra, a frightened young man named Steve, carries a mutated gene that makes him the only one able to use his powers against the Normalizers. However, before they can use his ability to save their mentor, Julie must face her greatest fear, and discover the truth about their origins. If they succeed in their desperate mission, they may become the heroes the world told them they could never be.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.S. McDermott
• Release date: Feb 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393195641

A.S. McDermott

A.S. McDermott is an English-Irish-American author, so going through passport inspection is particularly confusing. He lives in South Carolina with his wife, two kids, and a bunch of cats. His short fiction has been published in various literary magazines and anthologies. When not writing novels he likes to dabble in screenplays and once made a short horror film that was pretty decent considering there was no budget. Supra/normal is his first published novel. You can follow him on Twitter @imaginarycinema. Author photo by Hartshorn Studios

Book preview

Chapter One

My name was on the list.

I stood in the hallway, eyes fixed on the bright red paper next to the classroom door, my heart pounding as a crowd of students shuffled past me, their voices a meaningless din. A tremor ran down my leg, but I couldn’t force myself to move.

I’ve known about my prohibited status for years, ever since I turned twelve. But soon the whole world would learn the truth about me. Julie Jackson, criminal freak.

I read the text at the top again, hoping there was some mistake. ‘The following students must report for a mandatory blood test in the nurse’s office tomorrow morning.’ Nope, no mistake there. My scheduled time was ten-thirty. They normally tested us at birth, and again when we reached puberty. Somehow, I had slipped through the cracks. Until now.

I wished I could reach through the glass and tear up the sheet. There were a couple of other names on there, and I wondered if they felt as scared as I did. Probably not. The chances were their tests would come back negative. All my good grades and efforts to stay out of trouble at school would count for nothing; once my blood came back positive, they would send me off to some prison camp or God knows where. I’d read stories of it happening to others before.

I made it through the first three periods, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Mostly I was worried they would see guilt flashing like a neon sign above my head. I hurried to lunch when the bell rang, even though my stomach was churning.

My friend Journey had saved me a seat in the zoo we called a lunchroom. We were both sophomores at Kurtzberg High, and she was the only person I felt close to, but like nearly everyone she was unaware of my secret. It was a perfect relationship. She didn’t seem to notice how little I talked about myself as long as she had someone to discuss her weirdly erotic anime dreams with. For once, I wanted to talk about myself, to tell her about the test the next day and get some reassurance it was nothing. But I was afraid to even bring it up.

I looked around the lunchroom, taking in the sickly, yellow walls as I ate what little I could. Then I noticed Steve Peterson heading our way. He was in the same year as me, though he had already turned seventeen, and he was my latest and most intense crush. Dreamy hazel eyes, chiseled cheekbones, a nice smile—call me shallow, but that got me every time. Not to mention shaggy hair that was just crying out for someone to run their fingers through it. I spared him an appreciative look, even though dating fantasies were the furthest thing from my mind at that moment.

Hi, he said cheerfully as he passed our table. I gave a half-smile but said nothing. He sat down at a table with his loud buddies. Usually my gaze would have stayed with him for a while, but not that day. Journey did look over, though.

"He is cute, she said, in between chugging milk. I can see why you like him. Even if he’s kinda weird."

What do you mean? I didn’t really care why she thought he was weird, but any conversation was a welcome distraction from my impending doom.

He never hangs out with anyone outside of school or games. A whole bunch of girls have asked him out, but he always turns them down. He’s quieter than you, even.

Maybe he’s just shy.

She pulled her glasses away from her dark brown eyes, giving me a dubious stare. For real? Girl, the dude’s a basketball star. Shy ain’t part of the package. I think he thinks he’s better than us. She shrugged. But if you wanna try asking him out, you go right ahead.

Yeah, right. A girl like me dating the most popular guy in school. A girl who will probably be in jail by this time tomorrow.

I fell silent. Journey finally seemed to catch on to my mood.

What’s up? Normally dream boy puts a smile on your face for hours.

I decided to risk bringing the subject up with her. After checking no one close by could hear, I told Journey my fears about the test. If this was one of those teen books my mom used to read before the War, I’d be desperately hoping to get chosen for something special. But having powers the average person could only dream of was no gift, as much as I wanted it to be.

Journey laughed dismissively. A supra test? That’s what you’re worried about? I took mine a couple of years ago. It wasn’t no big thing. You’re the most norm person I know. If your life was any more boring, you’d be dead.

Thanks, I guess.

So why you freaking out over this? Everyone has to do it.

Well, I hate needles. And what if they find something in my blood?

She raised an eyebrow at me.

Not supra powers, I quickly added, but something else . . . bad?

She wrapped a braid around one of her fingers and grinned. You been doing drugs or screwing some guys I don’t know about?

No. Maybe I’m being paranoid.

Look, if it’s that big a deal, there’s ways to get out of it, at least for a while. Just pretend to faint or throw up or something. Hell, tell them it’s that time of the month.

Really?

Just try it.

I spent the rest of the day thinking about which of Journey’s suggestions I would attempt to get out of the test. None of them sounded great, but I didn’t have any better ideas.

When school got out, I walked home as slowly as possible, giving myself time to think. The dirty, crumbling buildings around me looked like they hadn’t been repaired since the War, which was pretty much the same across the whole of zone one. Out of a population of over 21 million, our zone was the poorest in New Rome City. It wasn’t a bad life, though. We were provided for and left alone, mostly.

I passed a piece of graffiti I had seen many times before. Someone had stenciled a flying superhero on a brick wall and spray-painted a red ‘no’ sign over it. Most people hadn’t seen any supras in public for years, but the hatred was still strong. People wanted them dead. Wanted me dead. I choked back a sob.  

My mood didn’t improve when I got back to our tiny, rundown apartment. My two brothers ate junk food while my loser stepdad snored on the couch. He drifted in and out of our lives like an alcoholic wisp, usually only showing up to make trouble or borrow money. My mom must have asked him to watch the boys until I got home, not that he had any parenting skills.

Right on cue, as soon as I had finished eating, he stumbled towards the door. Say hi to your mom for me, babe, he muttered as he left, giving me a leer.

Ew. Gross.

He would probably go bar crawling while she worked her night shift. It might be days before his lazy butt returned, which was fine with me.

I tossed and turned for hours that night while my brothers snored loudly in the bedroom we all had to share. Privacy was not part of my life, but I would gladly spend forever stuck in a room with them if it meant getting out of the test. I needed them. But more importantly, they needed me to look after them.

In the morning I unhurriedly ate while my brothers shoveled cereal that was more marshmallow than cereal into their mouths. The kitchen was really more of an alcove next to the living room, and an iron girder running overhead made it seem even more cramped. I looked over at the sink piled up with dishes and realized that wouldn’t get cleaned until I came home from school. If I came home. I thought of pulling a sickie and skipping school, but that would only delay the inevitable.

Justin kept talking between bites about how he had seen all these new games at the store and was going to buy them later. "They even had Death Destroyer 3: The Bloodening!" he said, flipping through a large wad of money. I didn’t ask where he got it, but I knew it wasn’t pocket money. He had a habit of ‘finding’ cash, toys, or whatever he wanted. Our mother never questioned it.

Jeffrey, only nine, just sat in front of the TV and watched cartoons as he ate. The couch, which took up most of the space in the room, seemed to swallow him. They were both small, but where Justin always looked cheerful, Jeffrey was often distant and sad. He was more like me, yet I had always been able to talk more easily with Justin. I guess it helped he was just a year younger than me.

My mom entered the room in a barely closed nightgown, her hair sticking out at crazy angles. She rushed around trying to get things ready and didn’t even notice my gloominess. Her face was tired and lined with worry.

Julie, I need you to pick this stuff up from the store after school, she said, shoving a messy piece of paper in my hand.

I scanned the list, my eyes widening at the last item. Mom, they’re not gonna let me buy a pack of cigarettes.

They will if you say it’s for me, she said without a moment’s hesitation. You’re a good girl. They know that.

Right. But would they still think that if they knew what I really am?

As soon as we left, my mom would probably sleep for the rest of the day. She didn’t need to work, since the city paid for our rent, food, and healthcare. But she still hit the streets looking for customers nearly every night. It was the only way she knew how to get a little extra cash for stuff that wasn’t a necessity. She had registered her occupation with the city, so it was technically legal. But I still felt apprehensive every night that she would pick up the wrong guy and never come home.

I walked to school alone as usual. My brothers rode the bus, but I hated being on that crowded, jerky thing. In the distance I saw the gleaming skyscrapers where the people in better zones lived and worked. There were no gates or fences to keep us out of that part of the city. We just understood that we belonged in this zone.

I made it through most of the morning, though my panic bubbled under the surface. During my second class, I got called to the nurse’s office. I wasn’t too upset about having to leave math early, but the way everyone looked at me made me feel like I was going to the electric chair.

I thought about just walking out of the school and never coming back. But what if they came after me? I couldn’t abandon my family. My breathing quickened, and I started to shake as I got closer to the nurse’s office. My armpits were all sweaty.

I entered the cramped waiting room in front of the office and sat. There were no books or magazines, so I passed the time staring at the wall. A poster hung there with ominous black letters on a white background. ‘If you see something strange, report it.’ It was pretty obvious what (or who) the poster was referring to.

They soon summoned me into an even smaller room and the nurse, a woman so serious she could have been at a funeral, instructed me to roll up my sleeve. Moving slowly, I tried to think up an excuse that wouldn’t sound dumb.

As the nurse prepared a lethal-looking syringe, my body twitched in anticipation of a fight-or-flight response. Gathering my courage, I said, I have a question.

She gave me a blank look.

I have a, uh, thing, I continued, trying not to trip over my words. Whenever I get cut or see blood, I pass out. Is there another way to do this?

The nurse frowned. She glanced at a nearby computer screen and typed something. There’s nothing in your school records indicating this.

I laughed nervously. Yeah, uh, it happened at my old school. I guess it never got transferred over or something. Computers, am I right?

She stared at me, the needle still clutched in her hand and the sharpened tip pointed to me as if it had a mind of its own. She sighed and put it down. We can do a cheek swab or a urine sample for now. But if the results are inconclusive, you’ll have to come back for a blood test. Understand?

I nodded and chose the urine test. She gave me a cup to pee in and left the room while I went over to the toilet in the corner. I was too nervous to empty my bladder, of course. I sat there, feeling hopeless. Finally, the nurse knocked on the door to check on me and it came gushing out. I handed her the cup, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tremor in my hands. She told me they would get the results in a week.

When I got back to class, Journey asked me how it went.

Crushed it, I said, giving her a fake smile.

I should have felt relieved, but I didn’t. I had only bought myself a little more time. The test would probably come back positive, but if she’d stabbed me with the needle, she would have found out what I was hiding right away. All I could do was pray for the best.

I tried to concentrate on schoolwork, but I had a headache whenever I thought about it. Not even Steve and his amazing grin could distract me. A week passed, and I still had heard nothing, so I tracked down the nurse. When I asked her casually if she had gotten the results, she glared at me.

We’re not allowed to give out that information. It’s classified.

Classified? It’s my darn DNA. Instead of saying that, I gave her my most pleading look and said, Can you just tell me if I passed or not, please? I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate on schoolwork until I know.

She looked around as if to make sure the coast was clear.

I can’t tell you the result, but I can say if they had detected anything we would have been notified by now. So you must be normal.

That’s what everyone always called me. Normal, like I had some safe, average life. So why didn’t I feel safe?

I thanked her and left, not sure if I should feel comforted or disturbed. Somehow I had escaped detection, so my lie could continue for a while longer. I could act like an average teenager. Who just happened to be able to punch through brick walls and heal in seconds.

If I wasn’t a supra, what was I?

Chapter Two

Istill remember sitting in a semi-circle in my first grade class as the teacher, Mrs. Green, told us about the Great Supranormal War for the first time.

Who can tell me what a supra is? she had asked, peering at the class over her spectacles. The sunlight coming in the window gave her thick hair a halo effect.

A boy raised his hand. They’re superheroes, Mrs. Green. They can jump up buildings and knock people into space and shoot lasers out of their eyes.

He mimed a laser hitting him. The whole class burst out laughing, me included.

No, Mrs. Green said, slamming a book down on her desk to silence the class. They were not superheroes. Supras used their powers to wage war and kill innocent people. The cities of New York and Washington, D.C. were destroyed. The world might have ended if one man hadn’t saved us. Can you tell me who that man was, class?

The fact that a portrait of this man hung over her shoulder in the classroom was kind of a big hint. Still, it took some prompting before we answered in unison, Supreme President Stevenson, Mrs. Green.

Yes, she said, beaming. The Supreme President discovered the supras’ weakness and defeated them. He rebuilt New York into the great city we now live in, New Rome, and made it our country’s capital. The Supreme President has kept us safe ever since. But there could still be supras somewhere out there.

She brought up a slide on the screen behind her. It showed a war-torn city, the buildings reduced to rubble. Skeletal bodies lay in the streets, their flesh removed by some terrible power. Mrs. Green stared at us unflinchingly, obviously seeing nothing wrong with exposing young kids to this.

This is what happens when supras are allowed to roam free. So never think they are heroes, children. If you ever see one you must report them to a teacher or an adult immediately. If another army of supras rises, war will start again and we will lose everything.

She stopped, letting the weight of her words sink into our young minds. Then she smiled. Now who would like some milk and cookies?

In the weeks to follow, we learned more about the orchestrator of the war, Dr. Dalton. The worst supra of all, she could supposedly make people’s brains explode just by looking at them. She died in the final battle, but the mere mention of her name still struck fear into children, like our own personal boogeyman. It was a reminder of why we had to be vigilant.

Yeah, I was innocent enough back then to believe all that. A lot had happened in the ten years since.

The day after the results of the infamous pee-pee test, I heard that Steve was supervising the art display for Kurtzberg High’s spirit week activities. I didn’t know how he found time with all the other stuff he did. I also didn’t know why I couldn’t stop thinking about him, aside from the obvious. It bugged the crap out of me.

I turned the other way when he asked for assistants. Much as I enjoyed looking at his hotness, I knew I would be hella self-conscious if I got up close. Then Journey had to open her big mouth to volunteer the two of us, and I hesitated a second too long before refusing.

That’s how I ended up standing at the base of a ladder while Steve climbed to the top to hang a banner. Journey watched me through her steamed-up glasses while she tacked up a poster nearby. I steadied the ladder and tried not to make it obvious that I kept stealing glances at his butt. I had never understood why people found anyone’s butt attractive, but his was very nice.

At one point, he leaned too far and almost tumbled off the ladder. I tensed up, worried I would have to catch him. Luckily, he caught himself and gave me one of those gleaming smiles.

Jane, right? Steve said as he came back down.

Julie.

You coming to the basketball game Thursday?

Why? Are you playing? When had this gone from talking to inviting me to one of his games? And where was Journey? Oh yeah, my so-called friend was enjoying my suffering, not helping me out.

Yeah, but some of the guys are kinda worried about the turn out, he said, and that wretchedly handsome smile flashed again. Why’d you want to know if I’m playing, anyway?

Wow, is he flirting with me?

No reason, I said, though I felt my cheeks grow warm. Sure, I’ll come. I have nothing better to do, and I think my friend might be in love with your team captain. Please don’t ask me his name and please tell me that Journey didn’t hear that. She was all too vocal about her one true love, some anime character with white wings and blue eyes.

Cool, he said matter-of-factly, folding down the ladder and catching the eye of the teacher supervising us. I guess I’ll see you there, then. I hope you like it. Maybe I’ll buy you popcorn or something.

Despite my awkward response, and the death glare I shot at Journey, I felt secretly giddy. I could barely sleep that night, but this time I didn’t mind since it wasn’t because I was scared out of my mind. Was I actually going on a date? Me, Ms. Brooding Loner with a secret identity?

The next day, I ran into Steve in the lunchroom. He asked if I wanted to sit with him and all I could do was nod and smile. Once I sat down, I was able to get control of myself enough to carry on a conversation with him and the various jocks around the table. I quickly noticed that his ‘friends’ spent most of the lunch ribbing him and calling him names, but he reacted good naturedly to it. Once the others left, I asked Steve why they acted that way.

Oh, the guys just like to make fun of me sometimes, he said. When I first moved here, they called me ‘Little Orphan Annie.’

Why, did you used to have curly hair? I said, teasing.

No. It’s because I’m adopted.

My good humor evaporated. Oh. That’s kinda jerky. There’s nothing wrong with being adopted.

He shrugged. What can you do? I have more important things to worry about than guys being immature.

Did you know your real parents? I asked, and immediately worried if I’d stepped over a boundary. I mean, your birth parents. Jeez, I’m sorry.

It’s okay. I don’t remember them. Mom and Dad never even talk about them. I guess I’ll never find out why they  . . .  you know.

Awkward. Why did I open my stupid mouth?

I never knew my dad, I said, finally. I think he died, but Mom won’t tell me how. We don’t even have a picture.

Yeah. It’s hard not really knowing where you came from.

We sat silently for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. I felt relaxed with him. By the time we left the lunchroom, I still wasn’t sure if we were actually seeing each other, but I couldn’t wait for the game the next day.

When I got to class, Journey gave me a sullen look. You too good to sit with me at lunch now, girl?

I didn’t . . . I just . . . I stammered. Journey was always so easygoing, so it shocked me to hear her accusing tone.

But then her frown broke into a smile. I’m just playing. So, you finally did the deed.

You mean asked him out? I don’t think that’s what happened. It’s just a basketball game.

Uh-huh, just a game.

We fell quiet as the teacher began speaking. I barely listened.

After school, I got back to our apartment to find Mom serving dinner for once. That was fine with me since I hated cooking. She asked how school had been and I told her it was a typical uneventful day. I grabbed some spaghetti and watched TV.

There was a news report about protestors outside the International Security Council headquarters being arrested and sentenced to life imprisonment—hard stuff, man. Once I finished eating, I went into the closet to read a superhero comic where I thought no one would bother me. It was from my secret stash and featured a muscle-bound hero who could fly and slice through mountains with laser beams from his eyes.