SuperDrew and the Betrayal of Donhil Corp: SuperDrew, #2

By BJ Pierson

Who says kids can't make a difference in the adult world? Not SuperDrew, and he's proved it big time.

 

Not only did Drew and Jazz sneak into Donhil Corporation and uncover their secret supervillain plans, but they even negotiated a shaky truce with CEO Lungowe to get them out safely. They could call it quits there and count themselves lucky. But that would mean letting Donhil Corp win, wiping out humanity's free will in the name of world peace. Like they could let that happen.

 

Keeping up the fight is easier said than done, though. While they've been enduring the most epic groundings known to man, Ms. Lungowe has poured all her resources into a huge project that would seal humanity's fate for good. If Drew and Jazz can't stop her, they can kiss things like creativity and individuality goodbye.

Drew and Jazz will have to navigate unfamiliar territory, master new gadgets, and trust new allies—not to mention dodging all of Ms. Lungowe's hypervigilant goons—to stop her and Donhil's plans. It's a tall order, even for SuperDrew. Is it more than they can handle?

 

"Breakneck video game-esque spy adventures" – Kirkus Reviews

• Language: English
• Publisher: Snowy Wings Publishing
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224976904

Book preview

SUPERDREW AND THE BETRAYAL OF DONHIL CORP

Copyright © 2024 by Brenda J. Pierson.

Published by Snowy Wings Publishing

P.O. Box 1035, Turner, Oregon 97392

www.snowywingspublishing.com

Cover layout and typography by Qamber Kids.

Cover illustration by Oh Lenic.

Interior formatting by Key of Heart Designs.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, brands, trademarks, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law.

To everyone who keeps fighting

Chapter 1

If there’s one thing every teenager on earth is a pro at, it’s sulking. Drew was no exception.

He’d flopped on his bed… 30 minutes ago? 40? And hadn’t moved since. Unless shifting his neck to finish counting the little specks of light refracting from a half-empty drinking glass onto the ceiling counted. (There were 37, not that anyone cared.)

There wasn’t much else to do when you’re grounded. And Drew wasn’t just grounded. He was totally, epically, You-Won’t-Be-Free-Until-You’re-40 Grounded. At this rate he’d be lucky to be let out for his college graduation.

If it was just your average, everyday grounding, Drew wouldn’t even have whined about it. He’d known it was coming for not calling his parents and staying out all night. That’s fine. He deserved it, in all honesty. He’d been prepared to be the most well-behaved, repentant, best son on the planet the entire time.

But then Ms. Lungowe had spoiled everything by sending his parents copies of every photo, video, and scrap of proof that showed he’d broken into Donhil HQ and gone snooping.

Well. Not every scrap of proof. She’d filled an entire envelope with enough evidence to convict him three times over, but kindly neglected to include the bits where Drew exposed Donhil’s evil plot, where Ms. Lungowe had threatened him and Jazz, and everything they’d found about the VR and what the Surefire Sleep mattresses were really all about. No supervillains trying to take over the world here. Just one delinquent teen who found out more than he should have. Keep him out of the way for a while, won’t you?

His parents were furious at him, and rightly so, but Drew did his best to explain. He gave them the documents he’d taken from the Franklin Rose Medical office as proof. They seemed so small compared to the book-sized stack of papers and photos Ms. Lungowe had sent. His parents had scanned through it, grounded him for a month, then sent him to his room while they sorted through the information.

That would have been bad enough. But wait, there’s more!

Once confined in his room, his dad had told Drew to take off his SuperDrew braces. Those upgrades are a privilege, he’d said, and one you’ll need to prove you’ve earned to get back. The horror that had swept through him still made him nauseous. Drew had obeyed—he hadn’t had any choice—and his dad, braces in hand, had closed the door behind him, taking away Drew’s freedom as thoroughly as Ms. Lungowe had when she’d locked him in that basement.

Eventually Drew had retrieved the ugly, clunky, stiff, painful plastic braces his doctors had given him from his closet and stuffed his mangled limbs inside. Some braces were better than no braces, but Drew could hardly stand to look at them. No more hydraulics to help his joints move. No more vid screens, tool compartments, toys, or gadgets.

No more SuperDrew.

The worst part was he knew it wasn’t over. Ms. Lungowe wouldn’t let this rest. She was out there right now, making more diabolical plots, driving the world further into her vision of perfection at the cost of peoples’ freedom. All the while making it seem like she was the ultimate superhero.

Every day, it seemed, Drew was inundated with more Donhil propaganda. Donhil Commits Billions to Public Servants, one headline read, accompanied by photos of Ms. Lungowe offering those ridiculous, oversized checks to policemen, firemen, teachers, and social workers. The numbers on them were almost mind-boggling. Donhil Funds First Responders Across the World, another read. Donhil Wipes Out Student Debt Across America. Donhil CEO Speaks to United Nations. Donhil, the Modern Savior this World Needed.

Donhil, the Evil Supervillain this World Refuses to Acknowledge.

And SuperDrew, the Most Useless Superhero this World has Ever Seen. Without braces, without a plan, sulking in his room. As useful as Princess Peach locked in Bowser’s castle, waiting for Mario to come save her.

The only halfway productive thing he’d been able to manage was tinkering with his Surefire Sleep mattress, severing the connections that would keep it from reporting his dreams back to Donhil HQ. He’d written out instructions for Jazz, and once he was free he’d fix his family’s mattresses too. Helpful, yes, but nowhere near what he should be doing.

He should be out there digging for more information. Fighting. Not laying here trapped in these useless braces with no technology to keep him busy. But until his parents let him explain his side of the story, the only thing he could do was wait. And worry. And hope the world’s most brilliant woman didn’t figure out how to destroy humanity before he could get free and stop her.

* * *

The only thing worse than knowing you’re grounded is going to school and having everyone else know you’re grounded too. Every single trek between classes becomes the ultimate Walk of Shame. Especially for Drew. His awkward, lurching steps sounded like a town crier from Ye Olden Times. Step. BUSTED! Step. BUSTED! Step. BUSTED!

Drew was used to being stared at, but with the SuperDrew braces people were usually just as impressed as they were sympathetic toward his disability. With nothing but nasty beige plastic holding his leg and arm straight, he was once again reduced to Poor Broken Drew. The Kid With the Braces. Or even worse—the Kid Who Screwed Up So Much He Lost His Braces.

He hated it more than anything. Even pickles. And that was saying a lot.

What he wouldn’t give to not need these braces. Or any braces, truth be told. Drew would practically sell his soul if it meant he could walk like a normal person. Yes, he loved his SuperDrew braces, but… I’ll bet I’d love being a functional human being better.

Those spiraling thoughts did not help his mood any. Busted and broken in so many ways. That was Drew. No matter how hard he tried, or how many amazing things he accomplished, he always ended up right back here. Busted and broken.

Can you sulk by putting your books in your locker? Slam. Slam. Shove. You betcha.

He was so deep in his slump he didn’t notice Jazz bounding up to him. Or maybe it was because she was shorter than just about everyone else in the school. Either way, he didn’t see her until she was already right beside him, rambling on as if they’d been talking all morning.

"Anyway you wouldn’t believe it. I barely got those photos downloaded before my dad saw I had his camera and ohmigosh you would not beLIEVE the lecture I got and now I’m not allowed to do ANYthing for two weeks. She looked at him and seemed to actually see him, and his lack of SuperDrew braces, for the first time. I take it things didn’t go well with your parents either?"

It took Drew a second to catch up. I’m grounded.

Jazz giggled. Literally. Drew raised an eyebrow, and Jazz rolled her eyes. Without your rockets, idiot. You’re literally stuck to the ground.

Drew tried not to laugh. He really did.

So how long until you’re not grounded anymore?

At least a month. They’re still deciding on the final punishment.

Ouch. Seems a little harsh for a single night out.

Not really. He leaned in close so only Jazz could hear. Ms. Lungowe told my parents I broke into Donhil.

Jazz squeaked and turned a weird, pale shade of green.

Yeah. I think they’re trying to figure out something worse than being grounded.

They brooded over that terrible thought in silence for a minute.

So what now?

Drew didn’t have an answer for that. They had to keep going on their investigation, but until his parents decided not to kill him there wasn’t anything he could do. Cataloguing shadows and dirty socks he found under his bed didn’t exactly help their cause. We have to keep collecting information, he said, more for something to say rather than thinking it would actually help. The dirt we have on them is good but we’ll need more to actually shut Donhil down for good. He said that last part in the quietest whisper possible. Even in the crowded, noisy hallway where no one could hear anything, he couldn’t risk anyone eavesdropping on them.

Like what? Jazz’s eyes gleamed. Gathering dirt on celebrities was about the closest she could get to heaven.

The kind they can’t deny, or smooth-talk their way out of. Drew’s brain chugged away, gleaning bits from comic books and his dad’s crime shows. Things like actual physical evidence. Documents that prove what they’re planning. Witnesses, if we can get them.

Jazz was nodding, taking notes in a tiny notebook she’d pulled from the pocket of her hoodie. Evidence. Documentation. Witnesses. We have a good start on the first two.

Drew grunted. Their evidence—the wiring in the beds and Jazz’s photographs—was circumstantial at best, and their documents proved Donhil was a bit shady but didn’t even hint at the bigger picture. Drew wished more than anything they could use the report from FRMS, but doing that would invite all of Ms. Lungowe’s wrath on their heads. No, they needed to find something that spelled out Ms. Lungowe’s idea of creating peace by subduing humanity before they could even think of taking this public.

The witnesses are gonna be hard. We’d need to find someone else who knows what they’re up to, and is brave enough to say so, and that’s a really tall order. Jazz tapped her pen, complete with bright yellow glittery puffball on the end, against her notebook. I could try setting up an anonymous email account. See if we can get lucky and have a tipster come forward.

It was a longshot, but it was at least something they could do until their groundings were lifted. Besides, it was way better than anything Drew had thought of. He nodded, and Jazz made more notes. I’ll do what I can. In the meantime, try to get yourself un-death-sentenced, okay? We’ve got dirt to uncover and bad guys to bring to justice.

Drew doubted he could do anything to reduce his epic grounding, but he nodded. He’d try anything at this point. Because if he didn’t, it would mean giving up and letting Donhil win.

And that was the one thing Drew could not allow to happen.

Chapter 2

Five in the morning was way too early to be woken up. Especially by a video call from a number you didn’t recognize.

Normally Drew would have ignored it. But the sender had added a text message to the video request: I work for Donhil. His heart started beating faster than ever. It had been just over three weeks since his infiltration without a peep from Ms. Lungowe. Had she decided to ignore their leverage? Was he about to be hit with a subpoena to show up at court and explain his actions? He was tempted to ignore it out of fear, but he knew this wouldn’t just go away if he didn’t face it. He combed his hair with his fingers, rubbed the crusties from his eyes, and answered the call.

A man the size of the Incredible Hulk sat on the other side of the screen, his skin that ambiguous medium dark that meant he could be any of a dozen nationalities. He could have easily looked scary, square-jawed and muscular, but whether purposefully or not he’d blunted his