How does he know my father is a cop? The question burned in Andrew's mind.
It was a beacon of confusion in a sea of pain. His father's profession was not a secret but it was not something he advertised.
For a complete stranger to know it and to bring it up in this moment was terrifying. It meant this attack was not random.
Adam saw the shock on his face. He decided to act. He let out a low humorless chuckle.
It was a dry scraping sound that seemed to come from a place of deep bitterness.
He adopted the persona of a disgruntled colleague pushed too far.
"Your father has been making my life a living hell," he said. His disguised voice dripped with fake resentment.
"Just because we're in the same department and my rank is lower he thinks he can order me around for everything. He doesn't let me breathe."
He leaned in closer. The darkness hid the cold calculating look in his eyes.
He let the smell of his own sweat and the dirt of the hill fill the space between them.
"So I decided to teach him a lesson. To make him feel what it's like to lose something. When his son dies up here tonight he'll finally understand." He paused letting the threat sink in. He wanted Andrew to believe every word. He wanted this story to become Andrew's reality.
"And I heard you were planning to bring a girl up here. That makes my job so much easier. All the blame will fall on her. They'll find you dead and she'll be the prime suspect. No one will ever know I was here." He punctuated the sentence with another dark chilling laugh.
It was a sound of madness a sound of a man who had finally snapped.
Andrew's eyes widened even further this time with a dawning horror. This wasn't about him. It was about his father. This masked man was one of his father's colleagues a policeman.
The thought was both terrifying and strangely logical. It explained the man's strength his confidence his knowledge.
His mind raced trying to think of which of his father's subordinates might hold such a grudge. But his brain was clouded with pain.
"Look," Andrew pleaded. His voice was cracking with desperation and pain.
He pointed a trembling hand towards the unconscious forms of Lily and the other girls.
"Take them! Do whatever you want with them! Just let me go! I won't say anything! I swear! I'll tell my father it was a rival gang anything!"
Adam didn't react to his pleas. He showed no sign of hearing him.
Instead he raised the iron rod. He brought it down hard on Andrew's stomach then his chest then his uninjured leg.
Each blow was delivered with punishing force. It elicited fresh screams of agony from Andrew.
As he continued the brutal assault Adam glanced at his wristwatch.
The hands glowed faintly in the dark. He knew the police were coming. He had heard their car stop at the bottom of the hill. He had to time this perfectly. His plan depended on it.
"I have about two minutes," he muttered to himself. He made it just loud enough for the whimpering boys on the ground to hear. He wanted them to hear everything.
Down on the road the two officers got out of their car. The screams from the hill were getting louder more desperate.
"As far as I know only high school kids come up here to hang out," the younger officer said. He sounded more annoyed than concerned.
"Still we have to check it out," the senior officer replied with a sigh.
"Could be a wild animal or kids getting into a fight." He drew his flashlight.
"Alright let's go." With that they both started making their way up the dark winding path.
Their heavy boots crunched on the gravel.
Back on the hill Adam finished with Andrew. The boy was now barely conscious a broken mess on the ground. Adam then moved systematically to the other three boys who were still conscious.
The two he had just disabled and the first one he had struck in the stomach.
He beat them with the same brutal efficiency. He was not aiming to kill but to incapacitate them to make sure they were all unconscious before the police arrived.
The other boys had heard his entire monologue to Andrew.
The story about being his father's resentful colleague. The seed of his narrative had been planted. They would be his unwitting witnesses his storytellers.
After the last boy went limp Adam checked his watch again. "Just a few seconds left," he whispered into the night. His work was done here.
He looked around for a place to hide. His new perception skill allowed him to see the terrain in incredible detail even in the near-total darkness.
With his enhanced agility he leaped into the branches of a large dense tree that overlooked the path.
He concealed himself perfectly in the thick foliage. He became one with the shadows a silent observer.
Moments later he heard the rustling of bushes below. The sound of two men moving cautiously up the path.
The two police officers emerged onto the small clearing. Their flashlights cut through the darkness.
The scene that greeted them was one ofutter carnage. Seven students—four boys and three girls—were scattered on the ground. They were all unconscious or writhing in pain.
The air was thick with the smell of blood and fear. One boy's leg was bent at an impossible angle. A girl's face was pale as death.
They stared at the scene their faces etched with shock and concern. This was more than a high school fight. This was a massacre. "What the hell happened here?" the senior officer exclaimed. His voice was a low growl of disbelief.
The younger officer could only shake his head. His flashlight beam danced from one fallen student to another. He checked for a pulse on the boy nearest to him.
"He's alive but barely." He looked back at his partner his face grim.
"How would I know? But we need to call for backup and ambulances now." As he reached for his radio his flashlight beam swept across the face of the boy with the broken leg.
The officer froze. "Wait a second," he said his voice tight. "I know this kid. That's Andrew. Chief Miller's son."