The Empowered: The Complete Series Collection

By Dale Ivan Smith

Superpowers are real, but they come with a price.

Mathilda Brandt is one of the Empowered: men and women who possess extraordinary abilities that set them apart from the rest of humanity. The rare few who do become Empowered face a stark choice. They must either join the Hero Council, following any and all orders in the service of protecting humanity, or forswear ever using their power.

Mathilda rejected that choice and went rogue, joining a hidden community of other rogue Empowered. Captured by the authorities, she was sent to prison.

Five years later, she’s been paroled from Special Corrections and just wants to live a normal life. Only the world won’t let her. To save her family, she joins a secretive government agency, with orders to infiltrate the world’s most notorious rogue Empowered group.

Mat’s assignment becomes not only a private war to stop deadly Empowered threats to the world, but a quest to uncover the secrets behind those extraordinary abilities.

But will she and the rest of humanity survive her learning the truth?

This eBook collection includes the entire Empowered series: all five novels--Agent, Traitor, Outlaw, Rebel, and Hero--as well as the prequel novella Renegade and linking short story “Nullified.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dale Ivan Smith
• Release date: Oct 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005271336

Dale Ivan Smith

I love writing and reading fantasy and science fiction, and also enjoy watching fantasy and SF movies and TV shows. I love gaming of all kinds--board games, RPGs, video games.In grade school, I got into trouble for sneaking off to the school library during class, so naturally I ended up working for Oregon's largest public library system.

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The Empowered

The Empowered

The Complete Series

Dale Ivan Smith

Copyright © 2021 by Dale Smith

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Contents

Foreword

Empowered: Agent

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Acknowledgments

Empowered: Traitor

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Acknowledgments

Empowered: Outlaw

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Acknowledgments

Empowered: Rebel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Afterword

Acknowledgments

Empowered: Hero

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Afterword

Renegade

By Dale Ivan Smith

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue-Nullified

Afterword

About the Author

Afterword

About the Author

Foreword

I hope you enjoy The Empowered series. I began working on the series back in late 2011, and published the prequel, Renegade, in December 2016. It was a decade-long journey and I’m thrilled to finally have the entire series available in a single volume.

If you’d like to check out my other books and keep up with my projects, please visit my website. Feel free to email me to let me know how you enjoyed the series: [e-mail]

Happy reading!

Dale

Empowered: Agent

Empowered series #1

Copyright © 2017 by Dale Ivan Smith

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Cover design by Yocla Designs

Published by Dale Ivan Smith

Portland, Oregon

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

www.daleivansmith.com

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To LeAnn, always and forever.

1

It was the three-month anniversary of my being paroled from Special Corrections. All I wanted was a job, to get out of this wet dress, and a break from the chorus of plant voices singing their happiness in my head now that it was finally raining again.

Today’s interview went like all the rest for the last month. Badly. At least the weaselly interviewer didn’t try to steal a look at my chest. He was too scared of me, the paroled rogue Empowered. An interview without chest ogling to piss me off was nice for a change, but the rest of the interview sucked.

Worse, the plants would not shut up.

I stepped off the bus at the 151st Street stop and into rain. My damn heel caught in a sidewalk crack. Just managed to save it. Couldn’t afford to break a heel. Not until they'd helped me find a job.

The damn crabgrass growing up from the crack in the sidewalk brushed against my legs and hissed softly in my mind.

Begging for my help. It needed more water.

I could do it. I could urge the roots to grow and spread, pulling water and nitrogen from the soil. I could make the blades wider, to catch more of the drizzling rain. I could help it, give it just what it wanted.

And go back to prison. For life, this time.

Convicted rogue Empowered weren’t allowed to use their gift.

Period.

When I spotted the cardboard sign with the familiar looking sketch of a seeing eye pyramid fastened to the bus stop sign, I was already in a crappy mood.

I yanked it off the metal post. The pyramid was sketched in deft little strokes, and the eye radiated squiggly lines of electric power. If I squinted, I could just make out the faint curve of a smiling mouth in the pyramid below the eye.

I knew who drew that.

Gus Silco. My old teammate in the Renegades, and a weasel if there ever was one. The cardboard was damp, not soaked through, so it couldn’t have been there very long. Which meant he might still be hanging around here. This was his crazy way of leaving me a message, letting me know he was here. What I wanted to know was why he was here. He was the last person I ever wanted to see again. Looked like I had no choice though, if only to get him the hell away from me, once and for all.

I tore the sign in half and tossed it in the street. Started looking for Gus.

Douglas fir trees ran in a line behind a slat-board fence. The firs murmured sleepily in my mind like softly humming giants. They liked the drizzle, and for an instant their pleasure made me happy. Only an instant, and then my resentment bubbled up. What had my power ever done for me except land me in prison?

My parole might forbid me from using my power, but it couldn’t stop me from hearing plants in my mind. It wasn’t like I had a choice. I had to fight to keep the plant chorus from drowning everything else out, and I couldn’t completely stop hearing them.

Just like I couldn’t stop detecting others like me. My skin tingled. Another Empowered was close.

Gus. It had to be him, since I couldn’t see anyone else.

Damn him. Jerk would get me thrown back in prison.

Gus, I know you’re here. Appear already. There wasn’t much for him to blend into here. Across the street, a line of abandoned cars slowly rusted in front of a fenced junkyard. The only plants there were a few dead Queen Anne’s Lace from last summer. I pulled my power’s awareness back before it could feel the dead plants and shuddered. The dead plants couldn’t tell me what I needed to know.

But he had to be over there.

Gus, come out!

He didn’t.

There was an old Ford pickup with a tarp-covered bed directly across the street from me. Okay, so listen. I don’t want to see you! I shouted. Ever again! He was probably standing there smirking at me, his body blending in with the junker truck. Perfect camouflage for a scumbag. What the hell did the weasel want with me, anyway?

I turned and headed for the Shadow Wood Apartments, wiping the damn rain off my face and keeping my eyes fixed on the apartment complex sign. Didn’t work. I heard footsteps on the pavement coming up behind me. I kept walking. No way was I talking to that traitor.

The apartment manager had gotten the tags on the sign painted over again, but hadn’t bothered to clean up the bottles and crap all over the ground.

God, I had to get Grandmother Ruth and my sisters out of this dump.

But I had to have a job first. I could still hear Gus behind me, so I walked faster. Along with using my power, talking to a known criminal, normal or Empowered, busted my parole. I’d go back to prison for life. My family would be hosed.

The moss under my feet moaned softly. It would be so easy to reach out with my power, caress it, and cover the trashy ground with a thick carpet of the stuff.

No more. Never again. I pushed the urge away and kept walking, almost running now. Mister Get Me Thrown Back in Prison was right behind me.

Then I heard swearing and the clink of bottles.

I whipped back around. Gus sprawled on the dirt next to the sign, face down on slimy wet newspapers. His jacket hood had fallen back, and I could see long dark hair beneath a knitted black cap. A lone beer bottle rolled across the sidewalk and clattered over the edge into the street, while two more bottles spun slowly near his feet. Tripped by the party from last night. If I wasn’t so ready to punch him, I’d be laughing.

The fall must have broken his concentration, and without that, he couldn’t blend in, and hide.

He still wore that grungy old army field jacket of his. It was ancient, made just after the Three Days War. There were blank patches where the radiation detectors used to be.

Gus got onto his knees and looked up at me. The same old Gus. Pale face, and nervous eyes that never looked in any one place for long. His black hair hung down from under a dirty orange cap. He was maybe five years older than me, but he looked…old.

I clenched my fists. Why are you here, Gus?

He got up, brushing newspaper and wet leaves off his cargo pants. Working himself up to say whatever it was he had come here to say. He was shorter than me by a lot, so he had to look up.

He was taking too freaking long to get to the point. I can’t talk with you, Gus. It’s against my parole. Not that you would know about parole. Since you skipped out before they came for us.

Gus looked guilty. He should be back on his knees begging me to forgive him Saying I’m sorry won’t cut it, will it, Mat?

Damn straight it won’t.

He swallowed again. I want to make it up to you. His voice sounded hoarse now.

I shoved him, hard, and he stumbled backward until he hit the sign with a loud thump. He vanished.

That’s right, pull your blender act, I said. Blender had been his nickname back in the Renegades. His power was great for running away.

Gus reappeared behind me, in the parking lot. I can make it up to you.

Hah. Make it up to me. That was a laugh. But okay, I’d bite. "How can you make up for cutting and running, Blender?"

I wanted to shout at him, and how will you bring Tanya back from being dead? My best friend, dead because of this waste of skin.

He blinked. I can help you.

Blood pounded in my ears. Just like some of the other inmates in Special Corrections who said they could help me. No thanks. I just wanted to get a job and not deal with creeps like Gus. Leave me alone, Gus. I stormed past him. I managed to not kick him in the crotch, and headed toward my apartment building.

I looked back and Gus was still following me, not even trying to hide this time.

I couldn’t let Ruth or the twins see me talking to a scumbag like Gus. They’d recognize my old teammate. Ruth knew full well I wasn’t supposed to talk to criminals.

I wanted to kill the bastard, but couldn’t.

And he wasn’t going to leave me alone until he’d said his piece.

I stopped. All right, Gus, you can say what you came to say. But not here in the open where everyone can see us. I nodded at the complex’s storage building. Follow me, I said. But first, do your Invisible Man act.

He vanished. My skin still tingled from him being nearby. All of us Empowered are able to detect other Empowered when we're near each other. It means we have a hell of a time sneaking up on each other. Gus’s blending gave him an advantage and the little creep always took maximum advantage.

I went to the storage building, unlocked the door, pushed it open.

In, I said. I waited long enough for him to get inside, then followed. I turned on the light, and closed the door behind me.

Gus stood in the middle of the room, flanked by storage cages, looking like a trapped animal. Which he was as far as I was concerned. Bastard weasel.

He flinched when I walked up to him and looked at his hands. Your hair is so different, it’s so short now.

I grabbed his jacket, hauled him up close to me. What the hell does that have to do with anything? You’re wasting my time, jerk.

His Adam’s apple was bobbing like a cartoon character's. He was scared to death. Sweating. Gus had always been a bit fragile. Back in the Renegades, the Professor used to say Gus took careful handling, that fear drove him more than most people. Yeah, well, Gus’s fear killed the Professor and my best friend because he wasn’t there when we needed him.

And now he was back, trying to screw up my life again.

I’m so-so-orry, he stuttered. Pl-lease-- I gave him a hard look, which shut him up. He wouldn’t have lasted a day in Special Corrections.

Cut to the damn chase, Gus. The longer this went on, the more chance there was of someone seeing us together, even holed up inside this storage building.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. He wore those old, beat-up fingerless gloves of his. He always wore fingerless gloves.

Okay. He swallowed again. I wanted to yell, enough with the swallowing, but kept my mouth shut. Anything to get him to spit out what he wanted to tell me.

I can hook you up with people who can help you.

I don’t want your help, Gus. The blood pounded louder in my ears. "Or these people’s help either." I glared at him

He surprised me. He didn’t duck his head, kept right on talking. Mat, you need help. This group can give you what you need.

"Group, Gus? Group!" I grabbed the front of his coat again. Let me guess, these are Empowereds, aren’t they? Idiot. He was stupider than I thought.

He nodded.

Damn him. Damn him to hell.

The Scourge can help you.

The Scourge! Don’t fuck with me, Gus.

He shook his head frantically. I’m not, Mat, I’m not! I’m in the Scourge.

Stop lying! I slammed him into a storage cage. I wanted to slam him again and again. He deserved it. I leaned in close to him. The Scourge is gone, asshole.

He winced. No, they aren’t.

Gus was lying. He had to be. The Scourge had been destroyed while I was in prison. The world’s Enemy Number One, the biggest, baddest super-villain group, ever. The Renegades had been nothing by comparison. But the Scourge had still gone down. Rogue Empowereds always got caught in the end.

Why are you wasting my time with this bull?

His eyes were wide, spit on his lips. The weasel. It’s true, Mat! I’m in the Scourge.

Gus had gone crazy while I was locked up. He must have. He never would have had the guts to try and feed me made-up garbage like this crap story.

I can talk to my cell leader. He can help.

I ground my teeth. Cell leader? What a load of crap. You came here just to give me a BS story about the Scourge somehow coming back from the dead?

He wouldn’t stop. I’m not lying. Listen, I’ve got a place. He told me the address. Think it over. Come see me. I can get you in, I promise.

That was it. I slugged him, fist smashing his jaw, sending spit flying as his head snapped back. He slid down the cage’s mesh.

Damn, it felt good.

I yanked him to his feet, frogmarched him to the door, and shoved him through.

Leave and don’t come back.

He vanished, leaving spit and tears splattered on the pavement.

Gus was a crazy fool. I was done with crazy fools, especially him. I slammed the door behind me. What in God’s name had gotten into him to try and feed me lies? I shook my head. He was crazy as a rabid bat.

I looked up and saw Ruth watching me from her bedroom window.

Ruth was going to be pissed. I pounded up three flights of stairs to the apartment. I’d tried to talk her into moving to a ground floor unit, but she liked this one, said the exercise was good for her. But these days she didn’t leave her apartment much, thanks to Thalik’s disease. She also said she liked being able to see the world from higher up. I couldn’t figure out why. Why would you want to see a dingy apartment complex and a bunch of trees? I sure as hell didn’t.

I reached our door and stopped because I still wanted to break something. I took a deep breath, then went inside. The living room was empty, no sign of Ruth, or the twins.

The television, a big thirty-inch model, was on, tuned to the Triple N, the National News Network. Ruth must have been watching it. The twins could care less about the news.

Rebuilding Russia: An Ongoing Concern, crawled across the lower part of the screen below an image of New Moscow. Whatever. I was about to turn it off when the video switched to a reporter talking to a woman in a white UN military uniform and a huge man dressed in a deep blue jumpsuit with a gold Hero Council badge. I shuddered. I recognized him. I’d seen him the day they caught me. My stomach felt like ice. The day Tanya and the Professor and the rest of the Renegades died.

That was Titan, President of the Hero Council and the only founding member still alive. He was still built like a giant linebacker even though he was ancient, like seventy-five years old. The reporter asked him something about unrest in Russia. Titan said rebuilding always takes longer than people want. Thanks, Mister Hero Council President. He went on about the responsibility of sanctioned Empowered to aid society and how the Russian Rogue Empowered were only holding their people back. Sure, if Empowered weren’t sanctioned, meaning part of the Hero Council, then they were part of the problem. The only choice they gave you if you didn't join up was to sign on the dotted line, saying you’d never use your power.

I turned off the television.

I heard Ruth coughing in her bedroom. The racking cough made my skin crawl. I went through the kitchen, past the sink filled with dirty dishes that the twins obviously hadn’t taken care of and the still full garbage can, down the short hall to the two bedrooms. Ruth’s was the far one. The door to the twin’s room was covered in new doom ballad posters. Apparently Four Horsemen was their favorite band this week. I shook my head. Predictable.

I knocked on Ruth’s door, pushed it open. It was freezing in there.

Ruth was sitting up in bed. She coughed again, but shook her head no when I started to move forward. I stood there, twisting my hands. Ruth looked terrible. Her face had more lines in it than this morning, and her short gray hair was a mess.

Her reading glasses were on the nightstand, on top of her current book, something about the Long Winter. Ruth loved history and current events. Magazines on politics, foreign affairs, and science were stacked on another little table by the window.

You’re up, I said lamely. That’s me, Miss Obvious. I hated seeing her like this. Thalik’s disease was the bitch queen of all diseases. The mystery disease that had no cure. No one even knew why you got it. Sure, it was rare, but what good was rare when it got you, or someone you loved?

Ruth sipped from the water bottle she kept by her bed, hands trembling, and took a pill.

Her skin was really pale and she’d lost so much muscle since I’d gone to prison.

No cure whatsoever for Thalik’s.

She was taking expensive medication to help her cope, but was still dying day by day. If I could get a job and hold it and then apply for a medical grant, maybe get some legal help, Ruth could get on a trial for some sort of new drug. Something. Anything. She had raised me and the twins after our parents died. Been there for us, was still there for us, despite everything.

I had to find a way to help her and get the girls on the right path.

She put down the water bottle, wiped her mouth and looked at me.

Mathilda, she said, using my full name. Only Ruth called me that. Her gray eyes searched my face. Who was that you were with just now?

Someone I used to know.

Someone from the Renegades.

I told him to fuc—I I told him to get out of here and not come back.

Why was he here in the first place? Ruth was angry, but she did the under control type anger, not like me.

I squirmed. He wanted to make up for something.

That was your friend Gus, wasn’t it? Even sick, Ruth’s memory was sharp. There wasn’t any point in lying to her.

I shook my head. He’s no friend of mine.

Seeing him breaks your parole.

I know, I know. Tell me something I didn’t know. This wasn’t fair. I hadn’t wanted to see Gus.

Ruth waved at me to come over to the bed. I slunk over, feeling way shorter than six one and like I was ten years old again.

Ruth reached and had clasped my hand. You only get one chance.

I nodded.

You can’t give up, Mat.

I’m not.

Ruth let go of my hand, lifted her chin. It looks to me like you are giving up.

I’m trying, Ruth, I’m trying! The potpourri scent in her room suddenly made me sick.

Ruth uncrossed her arms. You left your phone at home. Again.

Sorry, I forgot. I hated carrying that thing. My parole officer called? Winterfield always ruined my day. He was one hundred percent pure hardass and he rode me nonstop about getting a job.

Ruth frowned. Three times. You need to be reachable, Mathilda.

I know, I know. I spent five years in Special Corrections always being reachable. Once in awhile, I wanted to be unreachable.

I knew what she was going to say next. Going to go over the whole don't see any criminals thing anymore. I tried to relax, slow my breathing. Tried not to get angry.

Meeting with Empowered criminals is especially dangerous.

Yep. Here we go. Does it matter? I retorted. "If I see any criminal, I go back to Special Corrections."

Ruth shook her head at me, frowning. Mat, you know there’s a difference. Seeing a normal criminal is a violation, but meeting with an Empowered criminal is a one-way ticket to Special Corrections without appeal.

Okay, okay, she had a point, but I was trying to stay away from ALL criminals, not just Empowered ones.

What did he want? Ruth asked.

To apologize. Like it mattered. I couldn’t keep the disgust out of my voice.

That couldn’t have been all he wanted to say.

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to listen to anything else.

She squeezed my hand. If your PO finds out, you’ll be in trouble.

My face flushed with anger. I told the creep to leave me alone! I got up. Where are Ava and Ella?

Ruth sighed, suddenly looking not just old but ancient. Change the subject, why don’t you? she said in a low voice. She sighed. Out, just like you were.

But you don’t know where they went?

She shook her head, laughed sadly. That used to be you, she said.

It did. That’s why I worry.

The deep rumble of an eight-cylinder engine came from the parking lot, interrupting what Ruth was going to say next. I went to the window, and peered outside.

A newer model gold Lincoln Overlord pulled up below our apartment, whitewall tires and silver spoked-rims screaming ganger-mobile. A rear door opened and my younger sister Ella got out, followed a moment later by her twin, Ava. Ava’s raven black hair was nearly as long as mine used to be. It swung around her face like a curtain, while Ella wore hers in a short, curly perm.

Cute chicks. Way too cute. That was the problem.

A muscled arm reached out of the car, pulled Ava back in, and I caught the hard profile of a tattooed man. They kissed, and my stomach roiled. Ganger crooks made me sick.

You didn’t say the girls hung with gangers! I spat out the words. You lecture me about Gus, and here they are hanging with gangers. My skin was hot.

I’ve told them not to. Her eyes went hard. I’ve got to pick my battles.

They aren’t listening, I retorted.

Another racking cough. No more than you did, Ruth said when she could speak again.

I’m trying now. I turned back to the window.

The girls stood by the stairwell, watching the car drive off. Then they headed up the stairs, Ava in the lead as always, Ella following.

I met them at the door. Where have you been? Stupid kids, hanging with gangers. What were they thinking?

Ava tried pushing past me, but I braced an arm against the door frame. The twins were five feet eleven, but I was taller at six one, so Ava had to look up to meet my gaze.

Out with friends, Ava said when she couldn’t push past me. "That good enough for you, sis?" This last came out as a hiss.

I leaned forward, looking down at her. Don’t be a fool like I was.

Yeah, you were a fool, all right. We all remember.

The twins had been twelve when I was convicted.

Good, I said, blocking the doorway with my arm. Those creeps down there won’t do you any good. How long have you been seeing them?

Ella spoke up, fast, trying to please me. Just for a couple of weeks.

I clenched my hand. How the hell had I missed that? Because I’d been out pounding the pavement looking for work and getting leered at by creeps in interviews for dead-end jobs.

Ava gave me a defiant smile. You’re just jealous.

I laughed. That was too funny for words. I ignored Ava and kept looking at Ella. How about you, Ella? Why are you hanging with gangers?

Ella looked away. They’re fun, she mumbled.

You going to let us in? Ava crossed her arms. I have to pee.

I just want you both to understand something first.

Ella raised her head and looked at me, expectantly. She was the good one, always willing to listen.

Ava brushed her hair back. "What’s that, sis?" Ava, on the other hand, was a stone-cold bitch in training. Ruth said we were alike—we were nothing alike.

Those creeps are hanging with you for only two reasons. I tried to look less angry. One, they want sex.

Ava’s eyes flashed. So what if they do? You weren’t a virgin back in the Renegades, were you?

I hadn’t been, but that didn’t matter here. Two, they are just using you to get to me. Checking things out, taking their time. I’d have to figure out a way to end this thing the twins had with them.

Ava gave a loud, sarcastic laugh, and even Ella looked angry.

It’s not all about you, Ava said. Ella nodded sharply in agreement. She was the follower when it came to Ava.

Ava shoved my arm out of the way and they marched past me. Stay out of our lives, Ava shot back at me over her shoulder.

I stomped outside and slammed the door behind me.

The Lincoln Overlord pulled out onto Powell. The car’s engine revved, and it sped away, out of sight beyond the line of firs. Gangers off to have fun elsewhere. Scum.

The hum of the trees in my mind tugged at me as I gripped the handrail. My power couldn’t help me. The trees certainly couldn’t. I had to deal with this just like any normal would. I couldn’t go to the police. I needed to get out and find a job that would get us out of this dump. And away from those gangers.

2

The next morning I had to meet with Winterfield, my parole officer, at that greasy spoon by the Interstate we always met at. The day was cloudy with likely rain, according to the radio. Great, that meant I had to deal again with all the plants shouting happiness in my head.

I drove Ruth’s old Buick, because she insisted, even though it ate through gas money. Two bus transfers would have made me leave way early anyhow.

I wore my meeting with the PO uniform of white blouse, sweater, slacks, and the only sensible shoes I owned, a pair of beige low-heels. I hated the low-heels, but needed to look the part when meeting with my tight-assed PO. I’d kill to be wearing jeans and work boots, but nothing doing.

The radio was tuned to a news station, all Ruth listened to when she was in the car. I was about to change it when the talking heads started discussing a Hero Council operation in Seattle, some sort of sweep against rampant criminality and rogue Empowered. I turned up the volume, heart pounding, flashing on the Hero Council coming after the Renegades five years ago.

The radio said the Hero Council of North America’s First Team had led a joint FBI, UN, and Support task force against unspecified rogue elements. It sounded like a huge deal. The radio announcers sounded awestruck, like normals always seemed to whenever they mentioned the Hero Council. Made me sick.

Was it the Scourge? Had Gus been telling the truth? But the newscasters didn’t give any more details. Instead, they started talking about the latest building projects in the greater New York City area, Long Island this time, another Galestorm Memorial Center. The Three Days War and the irradiating of NYC had happened a half century ago, but the Big Apple still wasn’t so big these days. Even though the City had been rebuilt by the end of the 1980s, people kept tinkering with it, trying to make it the New York of old again.

I changed the channel to a rock station. I was not looking forward to this meeting.

Being interrogated by my PO was right up there with getting my teeth cleaned, but it was necessary.

Winterfield always made me wary. He had the no-nonsense look of a cop, or a corrections officer. He must have been in the military, but I wasn’t about to ask. I knew better. There was no chance of getting an answer. I figured he’d just tell me to focus on me and getting a job instead of asking questions about things that didn’t matter.

I just hoped to God Winterfield never found out about Gus attempting to recruit me for the Scourge.

It wouldn’t matter that Gus’s story about the Scourge being back from the dead was completely nutso. Gus was a rogue Empowered, the last living member of the Renegades except for me. I was through with living the criminal life, but Gus sure wasn’t. He must have spent the last five years skulking around the Northwest, living in abandoned houses and stealing what he needed. As long as it was something he could carry, it would blend in with him.

I still couldn’t figure out how Gus had remained free for so long, even with his power. Maybe the Hero Council and their lackey Support thought he was dead. Maybe he didn’t matter to them. That seemed damned unlikely. He’d be the first rogue Empowered they let go. The sanctioned Empowered of the Hero Council never let us rogues go. They hunted us down.

I parked the Buick next to a dogwood tree that was bursting with anticipation of budding. Feeling its pleasure was like drinking fortified wine; it made me dizzy. I had to stop in the entryway and take a few slow breaths. Clear my head. Didn’t want to set off those spook specs of Winterfield’s. Maybe I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t have them on today.

Winterfield waited for me in a booth by the restrooms. His back was against the wall, like always.

I don’t know about other parole officers, but Winterfield was no fun at all.

He wore that navy blue windbreaker he always wore and a knitted polo shirt. His shaved head glinted in the weak yellow lighting. Maybe he waxed it.

My stomach did a somersault when I spotted the mirrored sunglasses on the table in front of him. Damn it. Winterfield had brought his spook specs.

He nodded at me as the waitress left me at the booth. I slid in across from him. It was a big booth, but with Winterfield there, I felt like I was trapped in a tiny closet. I couldn’t take my eyes off the spook specs.

He tapped his windbreaker. You are carrying your phone today, aren’t you, Brandt?

I ripped my gaze from the folded spook specs. Damn those things.

Yeah. I pulled my phone out of my purse and laid it on the table.

Winterfield gave me his no bullshit look. It isn’t just me you need to stay in touch with, Brandt, remember. What if your grandmother needs to reach you?

My breath froze. She knows where I’m at.

Winterfield raised an eyebrow. Really, Brandt? You should know by now you can’t fool me. Why don’t you try not fooling yourself?

Okay, I mumbled and glanced at my hands. Looking at Winterfield was like staring at a brick wall. I had no idea what lay under that hard surface. Probably something colder and harder than steel.

I didn’t want to find out.

Ivy hung in a planter from the ceiling, leaves curled. It needed water. If I strained, I could pull water from the air, push the plant to grow, unspool it like a living thread, until vines looped and tightened around Winterfield’s muscled neck and choked off his breath. The leaves stirred and I looked back at my hands, fast.

Winterfield had followed my gaze to the ivy. You’re still Vine, Brandt.

I shook my head. I’m just Mat now. I was sweating. Winterfield always made me sweat.

His smile was thin, with sharp edges. The world won’t think so.

I’m not anybody special. The lie felt good. I just wanted to take care of Ruth and the twins, even if the girls were ungrateful brats. Was it really a lie if I wanted it to be true?

You may be nobody, Brandt, but you are an Empowered nobody. Society is not going to forget that.

Yeah, I was no Galestorm, or Titan for that matter, anyone else on the Hero Council. My power was no big deal. I couldn’t fly. I wasn’t a super genius. I couldn’t throw a bus. I sure as hell couldn’t stop a nuke like Galestorm did. Growing plants, no matter how fast, isn’t going to impress people wowed by real superpowers.

And I wasn’t a sanctioned Empowered. I’d been a rogue, the kind of Empowered that scared normals shitless, because the Hero Council didn’t want someone with a lame power like mine. So, I only got one option, sign on the dotted line and give up using my power forever. I was fifteen, and pissed that the world thought my wonderful power was nothing. So I ran away to join the Renegades.

The waitress returned, took our orders, left. If she knew what I was, what I’d been, she’d be frightened and angry I was there. But she had no clue. I stared at the tabletop, traced a pattern in the fake walnut. Ignorance is bliss, I whispered.

Only if you want to have no control over what happens to you. Winterfield tapped the tabletop. The problem is that you know things ordinary people don’t.

I just want to be as ignorant as everyone else. I don’t want to know what I once knew. I’d give anything to forget, to start over.

What you still know, Winterfield insisted.

He was wrong but so sure he was right.

The waitress brought our breakfasts. Winterfield asked me about my job hunt while we ate. I gave him a no-frills account, and he listened, not asking any questions.

I finished, took a gulp of coffee.

You’re going to end up back in Special Corrections if you fail to find and hold down a job. He didn’t have to take it further. We’d had this conversation before. If I couldn’t hold down a job, I had no money, and would just be a burden on my family. Winterfield assumed I’d turn to crime to get the money rather than put the family deeper in the hole for feeding me.

Wasn’t going to happen.

Period.

I’ll find work.

The waitress cleared our plates, refilled our coffee cups.

Winterfield waited until she was gone before saying anything else. He ran a finger along the bridge of the folded spook specs.

I suppressed a shiver.

Not the way you are going. He snapped his fingers and I practically jumped out of my seat.

I’m not Vine anymore.

He gave me the sharp smile again, laid a finger on the spook specs.

Time to be checked out, he said.

Easy for him to say. I feel fine today, I said. No need for the exam.

His smile vanished. Funny, Brandt. Very funny.

Yeah, I could see he was laughing inside.

He picked up the spook specs, opened the glasses with a snap and put them on.

Pinpoint red lights flicked on above the bridge, like demon’s eyes. The mirrored shades hid Winterfield’s ice blue eyes, so I kept looking at the demon’s eyes, and blinking from the bright lights.

Winterfield started the exam with the same question he always asked.

Why did you became a criminal?

I gave him the same answer I always did.

Because I was young and stupid, dumb enough to think it sounded like fun. That was my story and I was sticking to it. Always.

I looked up at the ivy. It knew nothing of the larger world beyond this diner. I thought again about the ivy stretching down, looping around Winterfield’s neck and strangling him. I pushed the thought away. What if the spook specs could read my thoughts?

Please look at me, Winterfield said.

I ground my teeth. Looked at him.

Have you used your power since our last meeting? he asked As per the terms of your parole, you must not use your power, specified as a botanical catalyst.

Botanical catalyst was a fancy way of saying I could control plants. Big deal.

My skin itched. It felt like tiny pinpricks all along my face, neck, arms, chest. A dull headache settled in around my temples.

Just a moment more, Brandt. Easy for him to say. His voice was matter-of-fact, all business. The headache dug harder into my temples.

I closed my eyes, frowning. I haven’t used my power, Winterfield. Why couldn’t he just believe me for once?

The pinpricks stopped, and the headache faded. I opened my eyes. Winterfield had removed the spook specs.

I am pleased to verify that you haven’t, he said.

You could have just taken my word for it. He wasn’t going to tell me what he saw, except that somehow the spook specs showed I hadn’t used my power, and that I wasn’t lying.

He snorted, paid our check, and we headed outside together.

Winterfield followed me to the Buick. We were both over six feet tall, so he looked me in the eye. Think about the choices you make, he said. They have consequences. He shook his head. And ditch the whole ignorance is bliss attitude. You’ll just wind up being someone else’s patsy.

Great, first the spook specs, now a nugget of wisdom from the PO. I shoved the anger down. I will. What else did he expect me to say? No? And the bastard wouldn’t even let me try to forget who I was. Like I could.

He got in his black Ford Republic sedan and drove off.

I knew full well choices have consequences. I was living proof.

I drove back home after another thanks but no thanks interview at a restaurant for a waitress job. I would have stunk as a waitress anyway.

The gold Lincoln Overlord with the whitewall tires and silver-spoke rims idled in front of our apartment building, doors open, gangers waiting outside.

Old habits made me do an inventory. Four crooks, all dressed in tailored suits, which seemed to be all the rage with the shady set these days. Three of the gangers had shaved heads, one was Asian, another black, the third shaved head belonged to a white guy. The second white guy in the group had long blond hair in a ponytail, and wore a cream colored suit. He leaned against the Lincoln’s trunk.

My muscles tensed as I took this all in. I jumped out of the car, went up to the Lincoln.

Hey, the blond said. Jeweled rings winked on his fingers. He smiled with bright white, even teeth. That was some expensive dentistry in his mouth.

Our door opened and Ava and Ella came out, smiling, until they saw me. Ava said something to Ella, and they both marched down the stairs, Ava in the lead.

The girls are staying here, I told the blond.

He nodded at the other three goons. They got into the Lincoln, the Asian behind the wheel.

It's up to the ladies, he said.

Ava marched up to me. We’re going with them.

She started to push past me and I grabbed her arm.

The blond ganger grinned, buffed his fingernails on his suit. I hate it when sisters fight.

Ava twisted in my grip.

Our apartment door opened and Ruth appeared.

She waved at me. Mat! No fighting! She coughed and doubled over. Damn it. She shouldn’t have to deal with this crap.

I let go of Ava. She flounced over to the Lincoln, slipped inside the back. Ella avoided my glare and joined her.

The blond ganger shrugged. Sorry, babe, looks like the ladies have spoken. You know, you could join us.

Fat chance.

He shrugged a second time. Your loss. Too bad. He acted like he knew something I didn’t. I wanted to punch the smugness off his face.

He got into the ganger mobile and sat between the twins. The car roared to life. The blond threw his arms around the girls and grinned back at me. Cocky jerk.

The Lincoln drove off.

Damn it! I couldn’t let the twins go off with these creeps.

Mat, don’t go after them, Ruth called from the top of the stairs. I don’t want you back in prison! There was sudden steel in her voice.

I ignored her, jumped in the Buick, and followed the Lincoln.

The gangers drove to the north side of Portland, to a tree-lined street, and stopped in front of an old three-story house. I had kept my distance as I trailed them across town, but they must have known I was following them.

I parked behind the Lincoln, got out, and took a deep breath.

My sisters were idiots.

The day was warm for late February; there was a hint of spring in the air with the smell of flowers about to blossom, and budding leaves. The walnut trees lining the street seemed to shiver, and I felt myself reaching out to them with my power.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to stop.

The left rear door of the Lincoln opened. Ava scrambled out, face twisted in rage. Leave us the fuck alone, Mathilda.

Ella appeared behind her, followed by Cocky Jerk.

I pointed at the house. I could see where this was going. A ‘party’ for these gangers, featuring my sisters. You aren’t going inside that house, or anywhere else with these men. I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at Ruth’s Buick. Get inside.

The rest of the gangers got out of the Overlord and stood watching the show.

Ava stomped her foot. No!

Anger rose inside me. I pushed it back down.

I’ll talk with these men then, and you drive yourselves home in the Buick. I shoved Ruth’s car keys at the twins. You both have your licenses. Go home.

Ava crossed her arms. Hell, no.

Ella, ever the follower, did likewise, but she wouldn't meet my gaze.

Cocky Jerk spread his arms wide, and smiled brightly. Ladies, ladies, he said to the twins. Do as your sister asks and head home. Maybe we’ll hook up later.

What? Ava shouted. But we were going to party with you!

He shrugged. We were, but I’ve wanted to talk with your sister, and now is the perfect time. Just like I had told the twins. The gangers wanted to get to me, the rogue Empowered. No doubt some stupid scheme to make a pile of cash.

Talk? Ava was stunned. Talk about what? I thought you wanted to hang with us?

Sure, babe, we like some fun, but this is business.

Tears streaked Ava’s face, her mouth moved, but nothing came out. They had totally played my sisters.

A single tear ran down Ella’s face. My face hardened. Damn these men.

Go, I told Ella. Take Ava. I handed Ella the car keys and stepped out of the way. My shoe brushed against moss lining the curb, and a jolt of energy ran up my leg. The moss started to spread beneath my heel, whispering wetly in my brain. No. NO. I forced it to stop. I couldn’t break my parole. Yeah, I was meeting with criminals, but this would be over quickly. Then it was back to the straight and narrow.

Ella tugged at Ava’s elbow. Come on, Ava. She pulled Ava past me to the Buick while the gangers watched, grinning. Ella pushed Ava inside, looked at me.

Come home with us. Please.

I need to talk with them. I was ending this. Now.

Don’t. Come home.

I have to.

She squeezed away tears and started up the car. I watched them drive off.

They were safe for now. I needed to make them safe forever.

I turned to the leader. He was grinning at me like he’d just won a lottery.

I’m glad we agree we need to talk. He grew serious. My name is Raphe Hatcher, and my associates…

I don’t need to know their names. I cut him off. I didn’t want to know anything about them. I could lie more convincingly to Winterfield that way.

Hatcher shrugged. Suit yourself.

I put my hands on my hips. Okay, what’s this about?

Let’s discuss this inside. He jerked his head toward the house, a three-story wreck with a moss-covered gabled roof and a tall turret with a long curtained window that stared at me like a lidded eye, blood-red velvet drapes closed.

I held up a hand. We’re not having a conversation in there.

Hatcher looked at me in mock sadness. There’s no reason for mistrust. What a load of bullshit. The guy just wouldn’t stop.

I shook my head. We aren’t going to be talking long enough to worry about trusting each other.

Don’t be so sure about that, Hatcher said. But we aren’t having this conversation in the street. He jerked his head at the house. Inside, he ordered. He had a point. I didn’t want anyone seeing me with the gangers.

I had a stupid idea. The backyard behind the Victorian was fenced. A huge bank of blackberry bushes grew up over the wooden fence, but there was a gate beside the house. Never let yourself be cornered. But these guys were just two-bit crooks. I’d dealt with other rogue Empowered, before, especially inside Special Corrections.

I pointed at the gate. Let’s talk in the backyard.

Sure, works for us, Hatcher said. He motioned for me to walk ahead.

I waved them forward. I’ll follow you.

Hatcher shook his head, looking sad. You got to trust us.

I raised an eyebrow. Was this idiot serious?

He shook his head, chuckling, and headed toward the back.

Ivy climbed up the side of the house. The grass beneath our feet was scraggly crabgrass that grew up from the moss-covered earth. Both pulsed with thirst for more rain.

The wooden gate creaked as the lead ganger opened it and we filed into the backyard. The scent of wet earth mingled with moss, shrubs, and blackberry vines. They were dormant but moist with winter’s touch still on their leaves. The air was thick, pregnant with life's potential waiting to burst forth into spring. I swayed.

A firm, strong hand on my elbow steadied me.

Hey, girl, you all right? Hatcher actually looked concerned.

Funny. If this wasn’t so deadly serious I’d be doubled over laughing.

I pulled my arm from Hatcher’s grasp. I’m fine, thanks.

The gate closed with a bang.

My heart pounded harder. My mouth was suddenly bone-dry. I took a deep breath. Never let them see fear. Ever.

Hulking blackberry thickets surrounded the yard on three sides. The rusting ruin of an overturned wheelbarrow was just visible inside the thicket near me. Ivy covered the house’s backside. I’d have to catalyze the ivy to make it strong enough to support my weight.

Hatcher gestured at the yard. We have some privacy here, Mathilda. I can call you Mathilda, right? Or would you prefer Mat?

His smile was suddenly all teeth, making him look like a shark. His three pals grinned in similar shark-like fashion. What did the twins see in these goons? Teenaged hormones running amok made Ava and Ella imagine a humanity that wasn’t there.

Behind me, on the house, the ivy called, urging me to put my strength into it, to grow it, so that it could give me a path to escape.

I ignored it. That was my fear talking, not the ivy.

Far above us a sonic boom split the sky. All five of us glanced up, and for a fraction of a second I saw a blue and white winged needle hurling westward, toward the Pacific Ocean at impossible speeds. It must be Pan American’s Trans-Pacific scramjet, boosting toward Tokyo.

I wished I were flying away on the scramjet, free of all this.

If I weren’t here, maybe these creeps wouldn’t be preying on my sisters, but I was here, so they preyed on my family. Running away wouldn’t help now.

Let’s talk, Hatcher said.

I shifted my stance, arms loose at my sides. That’s why I came. You are going to leave my sisters alone. Starting now.

Hatcher’s brow furrowed. Just like that?

Two of his lackeys chuckled. The other pulled on a pair of brass knuckles and flexed his arms.

Damn it. I forced myself to breath slowly.

Just like that, I said. Everyone walks away with skin intact. Sound good?

All four laughed, Hatcher so hard that he closed his eyes for a moment and waved a hand at me to wait.

He stopped laughing. Here’s what’s going to happen, Mat. You are going to use your power to help us grow certain rare and very valuable botanicals that have a very strong market demand. It happens to be an illegal market, but we never let that stop us, and you shouldn’t either.

He snapped his fingers. You do that, and we’ll leave your sisters alone. Your precious grandmother, too.

I scowled.

Hatcher nodded. Yeah, we know about her. She’s got Thalik’s disease. No cure, terminal, right?

I ground my teeth. How did this asshole know so much about Ruth? Did my idiot sisters blab all this?

He went on. We know all about your family and your past. Why do you think we invested so much time in your sisters? He winked at me. Didn’t hurt that they were fun little girls, but this is really business.

I unclenched my hands. Shut up. I mean it.

Go ahead and make all the faces you want. But you are going to do what we want. That might even include giving us a taste of you, too, if you want your sisters kept out of it. He shrugged. Of course, this can be profitable and pleasurable for you, too.

Living under the thumb of Hatcher and his gangers? Fat chance.

No way.

Hatcher sighed. I was afraid that we might have to take this further. He glanced at the ganger with the brass knuckles. "Not her face. It’s not as fun if her face is messed up.

My jaw tightened. To hell with consequences, to hell with parole, and to hell with Winterfield. I was ending this now and forever, for the twins and for Ruth.

Mister Brass Knuckles ambled toward me, past the tangled mountain of blackberry vines, a lazy grin on his face, swinging his arms slowly, like he was warming up for batting practice.

I reached with my power, into the vines, tasting their bitter tang. Wake, I urged the vines. I extended my connection into the roots, pulling nutrients up and into the vines, pulling water into the roots, pulling carbon dioxide from the air, bringing the vines to life. The blackberry thicket moaned and I shuddered. That felt so good after so many years not being able to use my power.

I commanded the nearest vine, bristling with inch-long thorns, to stretch out and loop around Brass Knuckle’s calf.

Ow! The ganger instinctively grabbed the vine, yelped again as the thorns tore his flesh. I urged the vine to coil tighter, slicing through fabric and flesh. The man fell, screaming.

Hatcher’s eyes widened. Shit! He grabbed at the inside of his suit jacket and his two other minions did likewise.

Guns. They were going for their guns.

My muscles screamed as I gestured wildly, pushing my vital energy into the blackberry thicket. The thicket rose up, like a giant spider made of thorny vines and I sent it rampaging forward.

The old wheelbarrow toppled with a thud inside the writhing mass. One of the gangers turned, gun drawn, and yelled as the thicket engulfed him. His yells turned to screams.

Stop it, now. Hatcher pointed a Colt automatic pistol at me.

The two other gangers backed away from the thicket, waving pistols at the vines reaching for him.

I jumped to my right and twisted my arms in an arching motion. Hatcher’s Colt boomed in my ear and a bullet slammed into my side. I hit the ground, breath whooshing from me.

The thicket twined around Hatcher and his goons. He brought his arms up, while the others tried to run, fell and were overrun by razor-sharp thorns. Blood turned the thorns scarlet.

Everything started to dim. I tried to stand, tried to push healing energy to the wound, but the world tilted. I fell back to the ground. Was this it?

I was suddenly thirsty. Hatcher was screaming now.

Die you bastard, I managed to think through a thickening haze.

I wasn’t going to make it. Empowered healed faster than normals. But my body’s accelerated healing wouldn’t be nearly fast enough, especially not with all the vitality I’d poured into the blackberry thickets.

But these bastard criminals wouldn’t either, and at least Ava and Ella, and Ruth, too, would be free of these assholes.

I lay down. The screaming was getting weaker. I closed my eyes, imagining the thorns sawing through flesh and bone.

Darkness fell on me like a mountain.

3

There was nothing. Then there was this irritating beeping. Beep…beep…beeep . The beeping seemed to go on forever. I couldn’t move. If this was hell, it was damned annoying.

I thought I heard a voice, but I couldn’t make it what it was saying. Blah, blah, blah blah blah, the voice said. Great, that told me loads.

Memories swirled through my awareness like lost friends.

That asshole who wouldn’t stop looking at my chest during that interview for the warehouse job. The job I held for like a week.

Ruth, giving me a weak hug when I walked through the door for the first time after Special Corrections. Tears kept blinding me.

Ava and Ella listening to doom rock in their room at full volume, and only turning it down a decibel when I rapped on the door.

Winterfield, sitting in that booth with his back to the wall, watching me with those ice blue eyes of his. Judging me, always judging me, and I could never measure up.

Special Corrections, waiting for me to return. The force shield distorted the world outside, like heat off asphalt in summer. Not being able to see beyond the walls of the force shield, forever.

Beep. Beep. Beeep.

Nothing.

My nose itched. There was something jammed in it, in both nostrils, that made breathing feel funny. My side hurt like hell. I think I still heard that damn beeping, but the pain had my full attention. To top it off, my mouth was dry as the desert.

I coughed, a dry cough that made my throat hurt and sent pain stabbing me in my left side.

Ah, you awaken. Good. The voice was female, with a high and mighty sounding accent. British? I only knew Brits from television, but she sounded like one. Fingers traced my aching left side, where a bullet slammed into me who knew how long ago.

Why am I alive? I croaked out the words.

You weren’t meant to die then, I thought I heard the voice say.

I struggled to open my eyes, but they felt like they weighed a thousand tons and wouldn’t budge. I winced. The pain was like a vice squeezing me.

I heard a soft hiss. Sweet warmth spread out from my side, banishing the pain.

Please rest. Definitely an English accent.

Who are you? I asked.

There was no answer. I slipped back into nothingness.

When I awoke the second time, the world was silent.

I took a slow, deep breath. My nostrils were clear, and my side no longer ached.

I opened my eyes. Blinked.

I was in what looked like a hospital room. I lay in a hospital-style bed.

I sat up and the lights brightened.

A plastic pitcher and glass sat on a side table beside me. I hoped there was water in the jug. I was so thirsty I could drink a river.

There was water in it. I poured a glass, and drank it down. I poured another glass and sipped the water this time. It was the most wonderful thing I’d ever tasted in my entire

Reviews for The Empowered

[Theodore Brown · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Quite a rollercoaster of a story. Definitely keeps you hooked, and although I feel like it ended really quickly, I liked this series (characters, plot, and all) a lot! I found the alternate version of history especially interesting - it looks like a lot of effort went into making the reimagined "timeline" realistic

The only real issue I had with anything was with the prequel - you could really tell it was written afterwards, as the plot felt a little forced, and I spotted at least one continuity error (Tanya's nickname) among the ever-present references to the other books. Not to mention, it felt like it was over as soon as it started. Don't let that dissuade you from reading it, though - it wasn't my favourite, but I don't wish I didn't read it

Prequel is 3 stars at best, leaning towards a 2. The main series, however, easily 5 stars!