Michael Vey: The Prisoner of Cell 25 (Book 1)

A few minutes after we were on the highway, Jack turned to me, offering his open bag of beef jerky. “Here, help yourself.”

I took a piece. “Thanks.”

He set the bag to his side. “If you want more, it’s right here.” He rubbed his chin. “So, how long have you been shocking people?”

After all the years I’d spent hiding my power, it was strange talking so openly about it. “Since I was a kid,” I said. “Like two or three.”

“Do you know how much it hurts?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I’ve never been shocked.”

From the backseat came Ostin’s first words since he’d climbed into the car. “You’ve never been shocked?”

“I don’t think I can be,” I said.

“So, you could like grab a power line and it wouldn’t hurt you?” Wade asked.

“I don’t know. But, when I was four, I chewed through the vacuum cleaner’s power cord and it shorted out in my mouth. I just remember it tickled a little and afterward I felt really good.”

“Wait,” Ostin said. “You mean it’s possible that electricity makes you stronger?”

“Like I said, I don’t know. I’ve never tested it.”

“You could, like, eat batteries,” Wade said.

“No,” I said. “They’d break my teeth.”

Ostin looked happy again as he finally had something to think about besides Wade. “We need to test this,” he said. “I’ll think of a way to test this.”