Contrasted by streetlight and stars, a shadow threaded its way through New York City's skyline. Sometimes a flicker of red fabric would catch the light, or a dim wash of illumination would drag across the curve of a shell, but otherwise the shadow blended seamlessly into the dark.
Trying to clear his head after an argument with Leo, Raph front flipped over an alley. He landed expertly and would've kept running if not for the crash from below. Sounded like a bottle breaking. He peered over the ledge to see what was going down.
Thirteen Purple Dragons crowded a brunette who leaned with one foot propped against the building and her hands in her pockets. She wore a purple hoodie and jeans with converse sneakers. Looked to be late teens, early twenties. No dragon tat. Her hair was swept into a braided bun at the base of her neck.
One of the Purple Dragons pointed a bottle at her, neck first. Near her feet, shattered fragments twinkled from the pavement.
She didn't take the bottle.
Raph needed a better angle so he vaulted the ledge to a fire escape. He perched inside a cast shadow and tried to gauge the situation. This wasn't your typical Purple Dragon crime scene.
"You a dragon," said the one with the bottle. "Or a chicken?"
She took her foot off the wall.
A Purple Dragon near the back armed with a crowbar did a chicken impression. The others joined in and brandished weapons of their own. The muscled guy in front with the broken bottle. Two who blocked each end of the alley and spun chains. One with a baseball bat covered in nails. Another baseball bat, metal instead of wood. Pipes. Brass knuckles. A hammer.
The guy standing next to the chicken impersonator was armed with a sullen appearance. Hands deep in the pockets of his oversized jacket. Eyes on her.
"This crosses a line." She moved under the fire escape. "I'm out."
"Told you she don't have what it takes."
"Coward." The one with the hammer stepped nearer and glowered. "Know what we do to cowards?"
"I imagine you murder them."
Plenty of mouths dropped open, but not the one with the broken bottle. He flipped it around so the sharp end faced her. A droplet of amber liquid hit the pavement.
She stretched her arms overhead until her fingertips brushed the drop ladder. She was petite so she rose up on tiptoe, but calluses peppered her hands.
Raph was no more than six feet away from her, crouched on the railing above. He saw the tension in her shoulders and the aggression that brimmed in the Purple Dragons. In nanoseconds he had the alley scoped out for anything he could use to level the playing field.
The opposite side of the alley didn't have a fire escape, but a dumpster sat within jumping distance. Its lid was down flat, which would make for an easy landing, and framing it on either side were a metal door and a pair of trash cans, respectively. The outermost trash can's lid was off, trapped under the foot of the sullen guy at the back of the Purple Dragons. Hands still shoved in his jacket, the guy's posture changed.
Lowlife thugs picked the wrong night.
Raph balanced sideways on the fire escape.
It began.
Guy with the hammer came at her first. She jumped back and yanked the drop ladder, which careened down between her and the rest to land hard on the hammerer's foot. While he hopped back yelping and bumped those behind him off balance, the hammer slipped out of his grip into hers, and she wasted no time chucking it head first through the rungs at the bottle wielder's face. The bottle wielder ducked. The hammer may have missed its initial target but the Purple Dragon behind the bottle wielder didn't dodge fast enough. That one had the bat full of nails, and the hammer caught him square in the jaw.
Raph might've appreciated the poetry if not for the fact this wasn't going the way he thought. With her fighting back, him dropping in to help got complicated. He didn't want to get kicked in the shell by someone he was trying to protect.
And she could kick.
With the way she maneuvered her surroundings, precise and clearly trained, it's no wonder the Purple Dragons wanted her on their side.
Bottle wielder came at her next. So far she'd kept one hand on the drop ladder's rungs and thrust them up or down to her advantage, but that bottle was sharp and the wielder had enough bulk to swallow four of her. He charged, she let go. The drop ladder caught him in the chest but he swung the bottle around it sharp end first.
She moved in with the drop ladder between them and caught his arm. Then she twisted.
When he didn't release the bottle she bit him.
His grip failed and the bottle fell into hers. She kicked him away and spun around to ascend the ladder. As the Purple Dragons crowded her she countered and slashed, fending them off easily now that she had something sharp. Anyone who didn't want to get cut had to keep a berth.
Sullen guy climbed on the dumpster. From his jacket he pulled a gun.
You know how time slows down when something bad is about to happen? Time slowed down for Raph.
In response to the threat he acted automatically, but it was like running down a hallway that kept getting longer. An aggravating dissonance bloomed between Raph's mind and his physical movement. Each moment took forever. First moment: sullen guy reached deep into an internal pocket of that oversized jacket. Raph pulled a sai from his belt without remembering, and the cloth-wrapped metal found its place in his fist. Next moment: headlights zoomed past, washing over the alley to reveal the gun's barrel. Blood turned fire in Raph's veins and he launched off the fire escape with a furious cry as the alley darkened back into shadow. This moment: sullen guy aimed at the top of the drop ladder. Raph rocketed through the air toward him.
Amazing how many if onlys you have time for in the span of a few seconds.
If only he'd scoped out the alley better. Been more like Don.
If only he'd jumped to the dumpster sooner. Been quick as Mikey.
If only he hadn't waited so long in shadow. If only he hadn't hid.
If only.
Gunfire.
Raph knew how Leo felt.
She shrieked.
If onlys wouldn't help anyone now.
Raph's sais were slick with blood and his ears rang. Guy underneath him wasn't moving. Good. Raph whirled around. No one on the fire escape. No sign of her.
Most of the Purple Dragons had ducked at the gunshot, and some scrambled out of the alley. The rest cussed or fumbled for any weapons they'd dropped. Many tripped over each other. A clump of them huddled by the fire escape, some covering their heads.
Raph couldn't see her but he knew where she'd be. Bottom of the drop ladder. He hoped not dead.
"Out of the way, whack-bags!" He stowed a sai and snatched the gun off the dumpster. "I ain't afraid to use this."
The bulky guy got in Raph's way. The remainders followed suit. Raph was mad enough to pull the trigger.
No bullets.
"You gotta be kidding me."
He tossed the gun and flipped over their heads, landing in a crouch in front of her. She'd curled up on the ground and breathed through clenched teeth as she bled. Raph couldn't help her if he got his shell cracked so he spun around to defend.
Sneakers and boots encroached. Chains dragged along the pavement and skipped over potholes. Raph busted shins and kicked out kneecaps. Crowbars swung in violent diagonal arcs. Metal slid across metal as Raph grunted in anger or exertion as he parried and disarmed. His counterattacks were explosive but controlled. He placed his shell between her and the Purple Dragons and didn't give ground.
Wind fluttered his mask's twin tails.
Then sirens whined from afar. The alley lit up in blue and red strobes.
The Purple Dragons scrammed.
When Raph faced her his expression slackened with surprise.
She was on her feet.
Instead of the usual face people make at Raph when they see him, hers was placid with the exception that her eyes had gone wide. They were honey brown and she didn't look away. She squeezed her left arm and slouched. Blood seeped through the tear in her hoodie and dribbled between her fingers. She wasn't hurt too badly anywhere else, but that didn't look good.
When she opened her mouth Raph prayed she wouldn't scream.
"What—" She covered it well but she did change her wording. "—is your name?"
"Raphael." He showed her his palms. "And you don't gotta be scared. I ain't gonna hurt you or nothing."
"Raphael? Angel or artist?"
"Uh. Turtle."
"Guess that answers my other question."
The sounds of arrests clattered from a few alleys away. Miranda rights and handcuffs.
"You oughta get that looked at, Miss, uh."
"Cateyana. If I had friends they'd call me Cat or Kit or something."
"If?"
"Yeah. If."
"Well anyway. Hospital's not far from here. I'm sure one of those cops will give you a lift if you ask real nicely."
Cateyana glanced at the alley's exit. She didn't move from her spot under the fire escape.
Raph contemplated shoving her toward the cops himself.
"Can't," said Cateyana.
"Whaddya mean, can't?"
"My father will kill me if I go anywhere official."
"If that's true then he don't sound much like a father."
Cateyana smiled this sad little smile.
"Well I can't just let you wander off without getting that looked at."
"I've got dental floss. Works good in a pinch."
"Know what else works good in a pinch? An ER visit."
"I told you I can't. Anyway it's fine. I'm only grazed."
"It is not fine." Raph's teeth gritted. After he'd gone through the trouble of saving her, now she was being difficult. And for what? His gut made him soften his tone. "Are you really that scared of your dad? What's the worst he could do?"
"You don't wanna know the worst he could do."
"Try me."
"It's not worth knowing."
Raph narrowed his eyes.
Cateyana didn't fold. She had a hardness about her that Raph's intimidation tactics couldn't penetrate.
"If you're not gonna go to a hospital then where you gonna go?"
"Somewhere."
"Well gee, ain't that specific."
"My father's current residence."
"So lemme get this straight. He's fine if you show up shot fulla holes but not if you go to a hospital?"
"That about covers it."
Raph was beginning to understand why she'd gotten mixed up with the Purple Dragons.
"I appreciate the help." Cateyana lifted her hand to peek at the wound. "Really. You probably saved my life."
No winning with this one. Raph took off his mask. "Got anywhere to go that ain't your dad's?"
While Raph dressed her arm with his mask, Cateyana shook her head. She wouldn't look at him, and the way her eyes glistened might've meant she was about to cry.
The cops finished their arrests and vacated, which eliminated Raph's option to have them handle her instead.
"How you feel about sewers?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I know a guy could stitch you up."
"A guy in the sewers."
"Yeah, uh. Me and my brothers live down there. If you count me there's four of us. Plus Master Splinter. So five actually."
Cateyana blinked and raised her eyebrows but the expression was ruined when she winced.
"It ain't far." Raph removed the manhole cover. "Need help getting down?"
Cateyana peered past Raph into the pitch darkness of the sewer. She gulped.
"I, uh. I won't let you fall or nothing."
"That's not exactly the issue here."
"Then what's the matter? Scared of the dark?"
"I just." She dipped her foot into the hole and found the ladder. "Don't like when there's only one exit."
They descended.
