King Of Bad [Super Villian Academy Book 1]

KING OF BAD (SUPER VILLAIN
ACADEMY SERIES)

by

KAI STRAND

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Published
by

WHISKEY CREEK PRESS

Whiskey Creek Press

Casper, WY 82605-1052

www.whiskeycreekpress.com

Copyright
Ó
2013 by
Kai Strand

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution
of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including
infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is
punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products
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 the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-61160-665-2

Cover Artist: Angela Archer

Editor: Marsha Briscoe

Printed in the United
States of America

D
edication

To my super hero son.
Anchors Aweigh, my
boy, Anchors Aweigh.
To my very own Superman.
Thanks for being an amazing husband and father and thanks for believing in me.

Thank you to
all who helped
shape
this book along the way. Some in
big measures, some in small, but each suggestion had an impact and I am so
grateful for your time and knowledge. This story is for my kids, whose unending
enthusiasm for it kept me striving toward this day, when it can be shared with
everyone keen for a fun story about good villains.

Jeff admired
the growth of the flames as they devoured wads of paper and fast food wrappers
in the wire mesh trashcan. He slipped the book of matches into his pocket and
sat back on his heels to admire his work. One side of the can merely smoldered
so he blew gently to fan the guttering flame. It reminded him of how blowing on
Jasmine’s neck the night before had resulted in a lovely arch of her back. He
growled a throaty sigh, remembering Jasmine’s blissful distraction as he’d
nibbled her earlobe.

“Hey!”

Jeff glanced
over his shoulder. A man, who looked like he belonged behind a desk in a
downtown high rise, jogged toward him.

“Ah, the sweet
sounds of discipline.” Jeff stood, stuffed his fists in the front pockets of
his jeans and shook the long bangs out of his eyes. He half expected the guy’s
slick-soled business shoes to slip as he jogged across visitor parking. This
was Jeff’s favorite part.
Almost getting caught.
When
the guy was a baseball’s toss away, Jeff turned. He walked a couple steps then
skipped up into a jog.

“Kid, stop!”

Jeff chuckled
to himself and said, “Yeah, sure,” and loped across the soccer field.

“Wait a
minute.”

Jeff stole a
look over his shoulder. The guy was close even though he didn’t seem to be
running very fast. Jeff grinned at him and increased his pace. A seven-foot
tall chain link fence ringed in the far side of the field to prevent stray
soccer balls from breaking the windows of passing cars on the street below.
Jeff leaped onto the fence without slowing down and in two cat-like movements,
launched himself over the top. He dropped to the ground, landing on a hill
pocked with gopher holes, as easily as if he were jumping around in a bounce
house. He smoothly transitioned back into a sprint and dashed across the
street, startling a lady driving an SUV.

“Kid, hold up.”

Jeff almost
tripped; the guy was half way across the street already. He smirked, finally a
decent chase, but not for long. With little effort, Jeff stepped up to a
blurring speed. He dashed up a peaceful street that ran perpendicular to the
school, where kids rode bikes and ran through sprinklers. Jeff recognized one
of the “good” kids from school, washing a ’57 step-side Chevy.

“Sweet ride,”
Jeff called out. The kid looked up at him, but then snapped his head to the
left.
That guy cannot be that close!
Jeff looked over his shoulder to
find the guy was only a house length behind him.
Holy
crap, Batman.
No one ever keeps up with me!

For the first
time in a long time, Jeff worried.
But only a little.
With a deep, fortifying breath he pumped his thigh muscles harder. He whizzed
past houses so fast he doubted anyone would be able to describe him if they
were asked to later. Tears streamed sideways from the force of the wind his
speed created. He’d only started to breathe a bit more heavily than normal.
Jeff was built to run.

“Kid, hold on
just a second.”

Jeff stumbled,
but regained his footing again before becoming road rash. The guy sounded as if
he was only a bus length away.
How can that be? No one runs as fast as I do.
Jeff’s lungs constricted. An alien emotion, panic, budded in his chest.
Stay
focused.
Controlled, deep breaths allowed calming oxygen into his lungs and
up to his brain and Jeff’s airways opened fully again.

Real speed
required concentration. Jeff concentrated on his thigh muscles. Usually he only
bothered to think about the front muscles in order to ignite his unusual speed,
but this time he thought about the sinewy, sleek muscles that wrapped
gracefully around the larger front muscles. He envisioned how the smaller
muscles provided strength and support to the larger working muscle. He pictured
that strength extending into his gluteus
maximus
to
sustain a strong stride. The resulting speed was completely inhuman.

The world
became a blur of color. Luckily he’d run this route so many times that he knew
it by rote. He turned up a street and ran a block before darting onto a trail
that paralleled an irrigation canal. He
hurdled
the
canal and then dashed off the trail, stirring up the scent of sage as he ran through
the underbrush. In one fluid movement, Jeff vaulted over a cedar fence into a
cul
de sac. A block up was an old barn, incongruous in the
modern suburban neighborhood, left by the original owners of the land after
they’d sold the surrounding farmland.

Jeff dashed
into the cool shadows of the dilapidated barn. Immediately he ran to the front
corner of the building and pressed his eye to a knothole. Jeff sucked in his
breath in surprise when he saw the guy jogging up the street toward the barn.
The guy’s head cocked slightly as though he’d heard Jeff’s intake of air. Jeff
slowly pulled enough air to fill his lungs and then held his breath.

The guy slowed
to a walk. A vacant expression made Jeff think the guy concentrated more with
his ears than his eyes. The guy came to a stop in the middle of an intersection.
A maze of streets stretched out in all directions, some ending in
cul
de sacs that led back to the walking trail. Jeff
smirked at the frustration on the guy’s face as he realized Jeff could have run
in any direction.

Just then, the
guy zeroed in on the barn. Jeff’s heart raced from the extra effort he’d put
into the run and the adrenaline rush of hiding. He thought his chest might
burst so he let his breath seep from his lungs. Slowly and quietly, he sipped
in more and then held still.
The guy must know this is the only place to
hide. He’s
gonna
search the barn.
Jeff didn’t
much care if he got caught. No, that wasn’t right because he was never “caught”
in the act; he was usually only observed. Then it became a matter of finding
him later and providing witnesses. What would happen if this guy found him?
Would he go straight to jail? The guy still gazed intently at the barn. Jeff
wondered why he stood there instead of walking over to search it.

Something
entered the barn then. The dog that lived at the house padded over to Jeff,
wagging his tail. Jeff automatically rubbed the top of the dog’s head and
scratched the side of its face, but never took his eye off the guy.

The guy watched
and waited. Thirty seconds later, he furrowed his brow, pursed his lips and
cursed. He turned and jogged back to the fence. With barely a squat, he leapt
straight over, his feet just touching down on the top as he cleared the
six-foot height with room to spare. Then he dropped out of sight on the other
side.

Jeff’s jaw
dropped and the breath he’d been holding whooshed out. If he hadn’t seen it,
even he wouldn’t have believed it. Jeff had to vault over, yet that guy cleared
it in one jump like he was a white tail deer. Who was that guy?
What
was
that guy?

Jeff looked
down at the smiling shepherd. “Hey thanks for hiding me again, buddy.”

Chapter 2

Jeff lived less
than a block from the barn. He sauntered down the winding street, kicking a
pinecone in front of him. A little dog yipped and Jeff looked up expectantly.
There she was. Tammy Jenner. Jeff swore he heard the angels exalt each time he
saw her. Copper highlights sparked in her shoulder length brown hair, creating
a halo around her head. She bent her swimsuit model body, scooped up the
yipping dog and tucked it under her arm.

Tipping her
nose to the air, she did an impressive speed-walk up the driveway into the
shadowed garage.

Jeff whistled
quietly as he watched her swaying rear-end disappear into the shadows. He knew
every 16-year-old boy at Ransom High turned to jelly around Tammy, but he
really wished he, Jeff, would get over it. She was his only weakness in life.
Nothing else got to him.
Except maybe
M
other.
But that was different.

_{Case in
point: he heard his parents’ shouting as he walked up the front walk so he
leaned against the house and waited.}

“He needs something constructive to do!” Mother
yelled.

“He only has a
couple summers of leisure left. Why take his childhood away from him?” Dad
reasoned.

Jeff smirked
and whispered, “Go Dad!”

“Because, he’s
not using his time wisely; come on, Frank, we’ve had the cops at our door three
times this summer.”

“School’s going
to start soon,” Frank soothed.

“That doesn’t
help! He cuts classes! He defaces the bathroom! Face it, Frank, Jeff is not a
good kid,” his mother said.

“Sarah, relax.
Jeff is just experiencing teen angst. He’ll find an interest that will set him
back on the straight and narrow soon.”

“Frank, you
are…
ahhh
!”

Jeff heard
Mother stomp up the stairs. Someday, she would win that argument and Jeff would
find himself volunteering at the humane society shoveling dog shit. He waited a
bit before he walked inside, hoping his dad wouldn’t know he’d been listening.