At first, I had tried to stay calm. Now, I was just trying not to scream. In the oppressive darkness, curled in on myself with no room to move, I focused on my breathing. Air moved in and out, through my mouth, since my nose was all stuffed up from crying. I tried not to, but the tears wouldn't stop. Each one filled my eyes, beaded, and ran down my cheek. The blindfold lapped them up, the bottom edge of it now damp and clinging to my face. My hands were bound in front of me with plastic cuffs, resting in my lap as I clenched and unclenched them.
Two people, probably men by their sheer size, sat on either side of me, and neither had spoken a word. They were bulky, but the kind of bulky that came from muscle, and they were almost crushing me between them. I felt fragile, like a glass jar in a vice. Both of them had guns, that I was sure of. I could feel something small and hard in the man on the left's vest, where it pressed against my shoulder, and I could see the gleam of metal at the other's hip. Three days ago, I had been startled by how much a single gun had scared me, when Lung had been less than ten feet away. Now I was learning that guns are just scarier, without any real reason backing up my primal fear.
Primal fear. That came close to describing the way I was feeling, though it was missing something. I wasn't as scared as I should be. Not that I was the picture of calm, it was more that I felt removed from it. My body was crying and fidgeting and hyperventilating, and I myself was just watching. Disbelief, maybe, or just shock. It didn't feel real, that I'd be grabbed off the street and blindfolded on my way to school. I wasn't in costume, I wasn't tinkering. No, I was just walking, minding my own business, wishing I didn't have to put up with Emma and her friends again.
Wish granted. I'd never thought I would find myself wishing I was back in the locker, but at least then I knew what I was dealing with. Now, I was caught between my own fear and how surreal this all was, like I'd walked into an action movie. The disconnect worried me, but in a far-off way. Like it was happening to someone else, and I was just an passenger in my own body.
Dad, I thought, noticing but not really feeling my heart sink at the thought. He would be worried for me, and now that someone apparently knew my identity, he might be a target. Whoever was behind this, they obviously knew I was a cape. I couldn't think of any other reason someone would kidnap me.
Shit. I had been kidnapped. By actual minions with guns. In an honest to god black van. Just like that, it all came crashing in on me. My breathing sped up even more as my mind went into overdrive. I looked around, searching for a way out, or something I could use to escape. There was nothing I could reach, and it would take me at least a couple of hours to build anything useful. That was the problem with a tinker power, I supposed. Without my gear I was just a baseline human, and there was nothing I could do to stop this.
I started shaking, my own helplessness drawing me back to reality. There was no way out, and I was trapped and headed somewhere, but I couldn't see to figure our where I was. Some part of me was still hoping the heroes might show up, but how would they know who I was, let alone where I'd been taken. Would anyone even notice I was gone?
There was no way for me to tell how much time passed in that car, my thoughts going in panicked circles, but it felt like hours. Then, I felt myself tip forward as the vehicle slowed down. I heard a door opening, the one on my left, and I was guided out of the van and down a staircase. Sixty-two steps. Alarmed at how deep below ground I must be, I suppose I tensed. The man on the right shoved me, and for a moment it was all I could do to stay upright. Right, no running off.
Left turn, straight, slight downward ramp, right turn, right turn, left turn. I started getting dizzy trying to map the place, wondered how big it must be. From the echoing clang that met each footstep, I guessed maybe there were metal grates in the floor, or a catwalk. A door opened, and the man on the right gave me another rough shove. I collapsed, found myself in a sitting position.
Nothing else happened, for what felt like a long time. I tried to think about something else, anything else, but failed. My dad. Whoever was in charge of those men knew who I was, and by extension, they knew about my dad. My stomach clenched, as I realized that they could, theoretically, have grabbed me while I was in costume. Was this a deliberate threat? If they told me to do something illegal, something really, really wrong... could I refuse, knowing they could hurt him?
Again, I heard a door opening. It didn't creak, but I could hear a rush of displaced air and soft footsteps on the metal. Quiet tapping, and a voice. A cool, collected voice.
"Hello, Taylor." I tensed. The muted footfalls approached, and I felt a hand on the back of my head as he removed the blindfold.
Skeletal. That was the first word that jumped to mind, as I stared at my captor. I imagined I could almost see his ribs, even through his black bodysuit. A white snake stood out from his chest, its tail reaching down to his hips. It was the only feature on the otherwise blank costume, drawing my eye to it almost instantly. I recoiled as I looked into his face and saw only a smooth, flat plain of cloth.
He seated himself in a chair opposite mine, his elbows on his knees, leaning down to talk to me. I noticed my own seat was an inch or two lower than his, forcing me to look up at him.
"What..." I couldn't decide what to ask, so I went with something general. "What the fuck?!" He ignored my outburst.
"I have a favor to ask," he said, without a hint of humor in his voice. Not knowing how to respond to that, I decided to keep silent. I was painfully aware of the fact that he could see my face, as my mask and armor were currently hidden in the basement.
"Unfortunately, while it isn't illegal in and of itself, it is connected to rather a lot of things I would prefer stayed secret."
"What?" I asked again, nonplussed. "Do you want me to sign an NDA or something? Why the hell did you kidnap me?"
"No, I don't need an NDA," he replied, slowly, patronizing. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to leave until that task is completed." Fuck.
"And if I say no?" I tried, hoping desperately that-
"I must insist." My blood went cold. This wasn't an offer, or a job, it was blackmail. A lot of blackmail. My identity, my dad, hell, the chance to get out of here. All of it hinged on doing... whatever it was he wanted. I really, really hoped he wanted some armor. It was all I'd made so far, all I'd shown myself to be capable of, but...
'Hey, you're a new face. Wow, I think I might know your specialty. Now, I don't want to jump the gun or anything, but if you ever need a... certain type of customer, let me know!' People always said tinkers were bullshit, but I had quickly realized that thinkers were much worse. I wasn't sure what my specialty was. I get into one fight, accidentally save one villain team, and suddenly someone else wants to preorder? Tattletale had seemed more than intrigued too. She tried to hide it, but I could tell she really wanted to be on my good side. Several thousand dollars seemed like a lot of money for accidentally helping out, if my being Lung's plaything could be called helping.
This man, whoever he was, was interested in me, for whatever reason. The obvious conclusion was that Tattletale had let something slip, or just flat-out told him. He'd decided to be much more forward in obtaining... whatever she thought I could make.
"After," I said finally, trying not to let my voice shake, "I go home?"
"Of course," he replied, voice gentle. I couldn't help but look at the snake on his costume.