A/N: Well, I guess I didn't exactly deliver on my promise to get this done before November. Computer trouble snuck up on me. But that's all smoothed out now, thankfully, so we're all good to go.
And so, not to make you wait any longer, here is Issue Three.
Runaways Remix: Teenage Wasteland
Issue Three
The Hallways of "The Hostel"
Bronson Canyon, California
2:35 A.M.
Quietly, Jake moved through the halls of the Hostel, searching for Topher. In his hands he held his pistol. He used the tactical flashlight attached to the barrel of his M6D II to light his way as he moved along.
He advanced slowly, checking every room he passed. Nothing moved except him. This part of the Hostel was as dead as it had been before the runaways settled in. No sign of Topher here.
You could just ask where he is, Hannah pointed out. I never said I didn't know where he was, just I didn't know what he was.
True, but this is more fun.
Hannah sighed in frustration, and Jake smiled. He moved on, glancing into another room. There certainly wasn't anything of interest in it; the ceiling seemed to have collapsed and buried everything.
And what the hell's with the pistol? We're doing a scan run, not an execution.
Jake glanced at the handgun, pondering the AI's words.
Why did he have it with him? Hannah was right, he wasn't going to kill Topher...at least, he hoped not.
It just...feels right, he said finally. I don't want someone to get the drop on me without a weapon. And I need the light.
A fair answer. Spoken like a true Spartan. Though I would suggest you put it away when we do find Topher.
Sure. I can do that.
Jake walked a couple more steps forward, noticed that this was a dead end, and turned around. He retraced his steps, then descended the stairs, having found nothing of interest on this floor.
So, what was that thing with Karolina about? Hannah asked. Jake stopped, a feeling of embarrassment filling his chest.
What thing with Karolina?
The one you had just before I rejoined you. I can see the memory rattling around in you head here.
Hey! I though you said you couldn't see my memories!
I never said I couldn't. And I'm not trying to; it keeps bumping into me. Your subconscious is still thinking about it.
Sorry. It's just-
You're worried about your dreams. Hannah finished his sentence for him.
Yeah, I guess.
Wanna talk about it?
Why? I just did that with Karolina.
How about talking to someone who actually knows what's going on in your head?
Okay...
Silence. Jake continued down the stairs.
Well, tell me about it. What's going on?
Oh, I gotta tell you then, Jake thought sarcastically. Okay, you know about those dream/memory things I've been having? Well-
The rest of Jake's sentence was cut off abruptly by the sudden appearance of a jet of flame a foot ahead of him. Jake reacted instantly, throwing himself to the side to avoid the blaze, hauling his pistol up and aiming in the same motion.
His finger found the safety latch and flipped it on when he found the source of the fire; Chase, still messing around with his Fistigons.
"Whoops." The boy called, semi-sarcastically. Jake glowered at him, tucking his pistol away.
"Thanks for the warning." He growled. Chase simply snorted and went back to his gloves.
"So, what's new with you?" He asked. Jake shrugged.
"Looking for the new kid."
"You mean Tofu? Haven't seen him since Sister Grimm dragged him off." Gert called from the couch, where she was still watching Chase out of sheer boredom and the lack of the ability to sleep. Jake glanced over and noticed Molly was gone. "What do you want with him?"
"Hannah wants to interview him about something."
"Good." Gert grunted. "Hope she finds something out about him. I don't know it this is just me, but there's something seriously wrong with that guy. Gives me the creeps."
"It's not just you." Chase, Jake, and Hannah all answered simultaneously. Jake and Chase exchanged a glance, while the former exchanged something with Hannah.
You think it's cool to tell them?
I would think so. They obviously don't trust him already. And we could always use allies for this.
Jake agreed, and turned to let Hannah explain the reason behind their search.
"I've gotten a quick scan of this "Topher" fellow," She informed the two other teens. "And it's not reading as human."
"You mean like how Molly didn't read human when we went to rescue her or something different."
"Not sure. I said I got a quick scan. Which means it's not that good. That's part of the reason we want to find him."
"Try looking for Nico." Chase suggested. "You should be able to find him if you find her. Way she was looking at him when she dragged him off, they won't be apart for a bit."
"Gross." Gert added.
"Oh, I know where he is." Hannah said airily. "Jake just doesn't want to ask."
"It's more fun to find him manually!" Jake protested. Gert simply looked at him, eyes half closed.
"Just ask. The sooner we find out about this guy, the better."
Jake sighed in frustration and defeat.
"Fine."
He started to ask Hannah, but the AI was far ahead of him; a NAV point appeared in his vision, to his right and a good many meters ahead. Nodding his thanks to Chase and Gert, Jake moved out. It didn't take him all that long to reach the indicated point; one of the rooms in the more stable part of the Hostel. Jake remembered it as the one Nico had staked out for herself, and unofficially entitled the "Room of a Hundred Old Dead White Guys" due to the many portraits on the walls (though, ironically, there were pictures of women and non-Caucasians among them).
As he neared it, he noticed the door was closed, and his vision picked out someone kneeling in front of it. A couple seconds later, he could see well enough to realize it was Molly, obviously no longer asleep. On the ground next to her was a notepad and pencil. She glanced away from the door as Jake approached, and placed a finger to her lips; the universal "be quiet" sign. Jake nodded in response and went silent, unconscientious slipping into the same mindset he used when playing the level Truth and Reconciliation. He pressed himself against the wall and glanced at Molly.
Several things sprang to his attention; first, the girl was peering into the room on the other side through the keyhole, something Jake and failed to notice earlier. Second, she was riveted to said keyhole; whatever was going on inside must be interesting. Third, she was biting her lower lip, hard enough to force all the blood out and make her flesh white. She also had her hands fastened around her ankles.
Jake found himself feeling on edge. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but closed it moments later. He needed to be quiet right now. He glanced down at his feet; the notepad she'd been using was still there. He snatched it up, along with the pencil. And quick check showed there to be plenty of empty space on the first page; most of it was taken up by scribbles of what looked like a dialog or script. As Jake glanced over them, he realized it was between Nico and Topher. Molly must have been listening to them while they were talking and written it down.
Jake nodded to himself, strangely pleased with Molly, and quickly scratched a message on the next sheet of paper;
What's going on in there?
As he finished, he tore that sheet off and handed it to Molly. She took it, scanned it quickly, and motioned for the pencil. Jake handed it over, and she quickly wrote a mistake-filled response;
i think the new kids eating nicos brain
Jake blinked, then looked up at Molly, who shrugged. Jake wrote some more.
Eating her brain? What the hell?
Molly scribbled back just as fast.
see for yourself
She moved out of the way, letting Jake see into the room. He pressed his eye to the keyhole.
It took a moment for his eye to adjust to the constricted viewpoint of the hole, but when Jake could see clearly again he decided it was totally worth it for the information gained;
On the other side, Nico and Topher were making out. Jake suddenly understood Molly's strange behavior and the cryptic message. He found himself both disgusted and awed at the same time. He yanked his head back and snatched up the paper again.
How long has this been going on?
Molly grabbed the paper from him almost before he could finish writing.
couple minutes not sure how long exactly
Molly mimed gagging and shooting herself as she handed the paper back. Jake nodded in agreement.
This is really wrong. He wrote.
how so
It's called voyeurism. It's illegal, I think. Don't know why.
yeah, well you're wanted for killing a girl and kidnapping me right and wrong don't mean much to this group
That's fair.
Jake turned away from the door and looked down at the floor.
I really hope you got a good scan of him, he thought to Hannah. Cause I'm not looking back at that again.
You never needed to look in the first place. I can sense shit through walls, remember? Fifteen meter range?
Right...
Beneath Jake, the floor trembled. Someone was coming. Molly glanced at Jake, fear in her eyes. Not "life-or-death" fear, but more along the lines of "doing-something-wrong-and-about-to-be-caught" fear. Pretty fitting, considering. Jake felt the same feeling in his chest. Quickly, he acted.
He grabbed the pad of paper, ripped the sheet with the dialog off it, and crammed it into his pocket. Then, he scribbled a couple lines of Halo history onto the sheet below it, grabbed Molly by the arm, and planted her next to him on his side of the door. Molly, seemingly sensing Jake's plan, went along with it. Jake just managed to get himself settled before the person moving, who turned out to be Alex, came around the corner.
"Hey." The bespectacled teen called. Jake snapped a quick salute and Molly waved energetically in response. "What's going on with you?"
"Telling Molly here about Halo." Jake said smoothly. "She wanted to know more about it, and I just so happen to have an AI that has all the answers and a lot of free time, so..."
"It's really cool! They've got, like, lasers that can blow up planets and stuff!" Molly cried enthusiastically. Jake realized she was reading off the page he was holding. Quick thinker, that girl.
"Good. Glad you found something to pass the time." Alex smiled slightly. "Say, you seen Nico?" He asked, semi-offhandedly.
"In there." Jake gestured towards the door they were near. Alex reached up to knock, but paused.
"You might want to continue this downstairs." He said quietly. "I think the comfy chair opened up."
"No, not the comfy chair! It's mine!" Molly shrieked, before rising to her feet and literally hurtling down the stairs, pom-poms on her hat flailing wildly.
During the first couple days in the Hostel, the group had found a large, very well padded chair in one of the rooms that was surprisingly intact, and quite literally the best seat in the house. Molly had developed a strange infatuation with the chair, which as part of the reason Gert bestowed the Monty Python's Flying Circus-inspired name to it. Which was why she had bolted.
Seconds after the girl was out of sight, both boys heard the sound of her tripping and falling down several stairs, followed by her cry of "I'm okay!"
Jake and Alex glanced at each other.
"Take it easy in there." Jake cautioned, standing up and patting Alex on the shoulder. The other boy nodded. Jake grinned, then followed Molly down the stairs. As he left, he heard Alex knock on the door. Guessing what was coming next, he hurried down.
By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Molly was sitting in the chair. She glanced up at him as he came down the stairs. As he neared, Jake noticed that she wasn't the only person looking at him; Gert and Chase were doing the same thing.
"So, is what Molly's saying true?" Chase wondered. "Nico's really swapping spit with the new kid?"
Jake paused for a moment, natural hesitation to giving out information kicking in again.
Allies... Hannah reminded him. Jake mentally nodded.
"Yeah, wish I could say otherwise, but it's true. And I'm not liking it."
"You and us both." Chase said, frowning. "What the hell is going on here?"
"It's a standoff." Molly said cheerily. The other three members of the group turned to look at her. She blinked. "What? There's four of us, and four of them. Two equal teams."
"I wouldn't have put it that way, but it sounds true." Gert added. "Topher has Nico, Alex, and Karolina on his side. Then there's us."
"Well, I think Alex might be on our side pretty soon." Jake added, remembering. "That's his girl Tofu's tongue wrestling with."
"Well that's good to know, but-" Chase's voice trailed off as footsteps decided the stairs. Jake got up and peered around the corner to check who it was.
Speak of the devil...he thought. It was Topher. Jake spun, facing the others.
"It's him." He mouthed. "We gotta look like we're doing something!"
His friends reacted quickly. Chase ignited his Fistigons, Gert took on a look of boredom and watched him, and Molly pretended to be asleep. Finding himself the only person without a cover, Jake started doing push-ups on the floor. Hannah decided that this would be a good time to look over the results of her scan, delved further into Jake's neural matrix.
"Hey, check this out, Arsenic!" Chase called, possibly a little louder than necessary. "I've been messing around with these Fistigon things, and it looks like I can control the fire with my mind!"
To illustrate, Chase launched a burst of flame into the air. Instead of disintegrating into nothing like it usually did, it formed itself into a seemingly solid shape; a square.
"Astounding." Gert said, faking boredom rather well. "You made a square. How very original."
"That's the opening act, man." Chase said, with a sly smile. Jake found himself thinking that the two of them were getting a bit to into this whole charade. "Watch this shit."
Chase suddenly thrust his hands out, as if to grab something just ahead of him, and ignited his Fistigons again with a cry of "Sha-bam!". This time, a strange figure popped into existence; a monkey-like thing, wielding what Jake guessed was a sword.
This alone wouldn't have been interesting, but it coincided with something that was; the sudden appearance of Topher, who walked into the room just as Chase conjured his flaming monkey.
"Holy shit! Did you see that?" Topher cried. "There was...some kind of flaming monkey thing there for a second!"
Chase snorted. "Geez new kid, you need glasses? That wasn't a monkey, it was a blazing samurai. Pretty cool, huh?"
"And you made it? Whoa." Topher gasped. Chase glared at him.
"Course I made it." Chase turned back to the group and jerked his thumb at the boy on the ground. "Who here thinks the new kids a bit slow? Anyone? Just me?"
Topher glared back at him. "I do have a name, you know." He spat. Jake, still doing push-ups and up to about two dozen, smiled.
"Man, Topher's not a name-"
"Its a meat substitute." The other two joined in. Molly made an untranslatable grunting noise, and Jake realized she wasn't faking sleep; she was really out cold. Topher sighed.
"Your joking, right? At least it comes from something normal. What the hell kind of name is Talkback, anyway?"
"One that's better than Christopher." Chase sneered. Topher looked like he wanted to say something, but Gert cut him off.
"Keep it down below eleven guys." She said. "We don't want to wake her up. Cause believe me, you won't like her if you wake her up," She indicated the sleeping mutant girl. As if hearing herself being mentioned, Molly rolled over and almost fell off the comfy chair, arm flopping loosely. Jake stopped working out long enough to grab said arm and fold it across Molly's chest, before going back to do sit-ups.
"Uh, I doubt anything we're gonna do will wake her up." Topher noted. "She looks pretty out of it."
"As much as I hate to admit it, he's right." Chase added. "The last time Bruiser powered up, she was a freaking cutting crew."
"The hell's a cutting crew?" Jake asked. "Aside from the name of an Energy Sword spree..."
"What it sounds like. She sawed logs for hours."
"Oh..." Realization dawned on Jake. "Ha ha. Very funny."
"Speaking of sleep..." Topher muttered. "Do any of you do it besides, uh, Bruiser here?" He indicated the sleeping girl again. Jake and Gert made identical snorts.
"I saw a girl be murdered by my friends parents, found a dinosaur in my basement, and knocked my mom out. All in one night." She turned and patted Old Lace, who had arrived at the mention of her name. Gert continued, once again adopting her monotone tone of voice. "I haven't slept in four days."
"Yeah, same goes for me." Jake added finally joining the conversation. "I've been having weird-ass dreams for the last couple days."
"Oh, you mean like nightmares?" Topher asked. Jake shook his head.
"Nah, more like dark dreams. Leading armies through shattered cities and killing things. Stuff like that."
"Um..." Topher trailed off. Quickly, he shifted his attention to Chase. "What about you?"
"I can sleep, just don't do it in the night." The boy smiled, then sat down and put his still gauntleted hands behind his head. "Say, now that I've got no curfew, I've been thinking about my schedule; I'm gonna stay up til seven, watch some stuff on TV for about and hour, then crash for...where would nine hours of sleep put me?"
"Seventeen hundred hours." Jake said instantly, rattling off in military time. Chase looked at him curiously, so he translated to twelve hour time. "Four in the afternoon."
"Cooool." Chase muttered. "Just in time for the four-to-eight comedy show lineup!"
Topher simply looked at Chase and blinked.
"Well, uh, I guess I'm gonna go crash now." He said. "Should probably get some sleep if we're gonna go out tomorrow." He paused, as if waiting for the group to tell him to stay. The only responses he got were grunts and Molly mumbling something in her sleep that sounded like "cheese doodles". Apparently satisfied with this, he left. The three still-awake runaways exchanged glances. Chase exhaled explosively.
"Well, glad that's over." He said.
Gert and Jake (who stood back up and stretched) agreed. Seconds later, Jake yawned massively.
"You know," He said, rubbing his face. "Sleep doesn't actually sound like such a bad idea right now."
"I thought you said you couldn't sleep cause of those weird dreams." Gert pointed out. Jake shrugged.
"They only happen sometimes. Other times, I like what I see."
"Lucky you." Gert muttered, turning back to watch Chase. Taking this as his unofficial cue to leave, Jake patted Molly on the shoulder, snapped a salute to the other two teens in the room, and left.
His intent was to go to his room on this floor, but he found himself barely able to walk. He managed to get the nearest door to him open, and found it empty except for a red heart-shaped bed.
This will do fine, he decided. With that, he collapsed onto the bed face-first, completely out cold.
Jake found himself falling. Not surprising, this being a dream. What was interesting was the thing he was falling next to, and had apparently just been on; it was some kind of airship, but unlike any he'd ever seen or heard of, and definitely not the red one he'd escaped on in his dream earlier that night. Instead of canvas, the body seemed to be made of...well, flesh. The entire vessel looked like it was a single, living creature.
Jake continued to plummet, amazingly calm considering the situation. His calmness was enforced seconds later; his travels had put him in arms reach of a web of ropes, which apparently encircled the living airship. Jake grabbed one, bringing his fall to a sudden, jarring halt. He took a moment to catch his breath, and check his surroundings.
The airship he was now hanging from was indeed living. From his vantage point, Jake could see it had been made from an animal; a sperm whale, from the looks of it. Other strange creatures moved around him as he hung. Birds circled, wearing strange harnesses that trailed shimmering strands of something that might have been spider silk. A flock of bat-like beast soared by his position, following a brilliant white searchlight. On the ship itself, some kind of lizard scuttled by, pausing only long enough to glance at Jake before continuing.
Jake breathed a sigh of relief; for the moment, he seemed safe. All was quiet, except for a rumble that was felt more than heard, which he could see was coming from the large, black-smoke spewing engine pod several dozen yards from his position.
This quiet was suddenly shattered by a horrifying scream, which came from somewhere above him. Jake glanced up, seeing the origin hurtling toward him. A boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, falling as Jake had been but certainly not as calmly. His arms were flailing as he dropped, and he managed three full head over heel rotations before he reached Jake's level.
Without hesitation, Jake shot his hand out and grabbed the closest part of the boy to him; his leg. The sudden weight almost ripped his arm out of his socket, but the boy stopped falling.
Unfortunately, all his momentum had to go somewhere; it transferred into him swinging face-first and upside down into the side of the whale airship. Jake cringed, but hauled the boy up. Though slightly dazed from the impact, he managed to grab the ropes next to Jake and right himself, then clip himself onto the lines with something he pulled from one of the pockets in his suit. Jake decided this was a good idea and fished out his own clip.
Once they were both secured, Jake got a good look at the person he had just rescued; angular, almost girlish face, bruised from his recent impact, blond hair cut short, blue eyes wide with shock.
"You all right there, Mr. Sharp?" Jake asked. The boy nodded back, then wiped his hand across his face.
"Aye, sir. Just...blisters." He muttered, voice surprisingly high. Jake ignored it. His voice would probably be messed up too if he'd just been saved from falling to his death. "That was a wee bit close."
"Agreed. How the hell did you fall, anyway?"
"Barking Clanker machine came in low. Had to dive out of the way." Sharp blinked, then shuddered. "Guess I didn't think it through much."
"Well, it's either jump and possibly live, or not and get flattened by into a...squick, right?"
"Aye."
"Well, flattened into a squick on the ship's spine by that plane. Seems like an obvious choice to me." Jake decided. He glanced around, looking for someone. "Where's Newkirk?"
"Don't know. But that bum-rag can handle himself. He's been through battles before."
"Wasn't he up in a Huxley when you got hit by that German Tesla Cannon?"
"Aye. Nearly got burned alive. Would have drowned, too, if I hadn't saved him."
"Thank Darwin we have the amazing Mr. Dylan Sharp aboard to save us all." Jake said dryly, patting the boy on the shoulder. Dylan looked up, back towards the top (the spine) of the ship.
"We should get back up there. The rest of your Yank ambassador mates might be a wee bit worried about you."
"They could use some excitement. And I seriously doubt two airplanes could seriously harm the Leviathan after they installed that armored carapace we gave you." Jake grinned broadly. Something slid into place in his mind; something the "boy" had told him about a day earlier. "Besides, don't you think this is romantic, Deryn?"
"Snarf clart." Deryn replied. But he (she, in reality), smiled as widely as Jake.
"Oh, right you have eyes for that Austrian boy. Alek or whatever."
Deryn frowned at him, and started to say something, but a rumble filled the air.
"Barking spiders! That blistering contraption is back!"
Sure enough, the plane Deryn had mentioned earlier soared over the spine. A single winged twin-engined dual cockpit machine, with the a gunner in front and pilot in back. The pilot seemed to notice them, and began a turn back towards their side. Fear filled Deryn's face, but Jake simply held up his hand.
"Wait..." He whispered to the girl. "Wait..."
Another noise filled the air; a rising shriek, cumulating with the sudden appearance of another strange creature. It looked like a jellyfish, bulky blue body trailing four small tentacles. It surged towards the airplane, leaving a black cloud in it's wake. The pilot saw it, and attempted to dodge.
He failed.
Machine and monster collided, and the beast simply exploded, spewing a flaming liquid all over the remains of the plane. Fabric burned, gas and ammo exploded.
The remains tumbled earthward, trailing flame and smoke.
"Barking spiders." Deryn muttered. "What was-"
"A modified Huxley. Anti-air defense version." Jake said calmly. "Another toy we "Yanks" gave you. He laughed softly to himself. "You know, I'm almost glad those Germans sank the Lusitania; I haven't had this much fun in years."
"Aye, sir! Well, I wouldn't exactly call this fun, but it sure beats tea parties and sewing!" Deryn exclaimed. Jake nodded.
"Now I think would be a good time to rejoin our friends on the spine." He decided.
"After you, sir." Deryn said. Jake nodded, and together they started climbing the ropes up the airship.
Jake's dream shifted; now, he was on solid ground once more. Though, he quickly noticed, he wasn't at ground level; he was at least fifty feet in the air, inside the remains of what might have been a skyscraper at some point. Rust flakes drifted past his eyes, shaken loose by the wind. He was alone. At least, people wise. He was surrounded by military equipment. Before him was a massive rifle of some form, seemingly the lovechild of a machine gun turret and a sniper rifle. From it's left side came a line of huge bullets, stacked into a linkless ammunition belt emerging from a box on the ground. To his right was a crossbow of some form, a shotgun, and an assault rifle of the M16 run. Beyond those was a military style backpack with his last name on it, a sleeping bag, a miniaturized communications suite, and several empty dehydrated food packets; he'd obviously been here a while.
Jake shifted, making the floor under him move. No, he realized, not the floor; the floating ovoid of metal he was laying on was doing the moving. He, the rifle, and most of his ammo were all on top of this board. It made tactical sense; the metal under him was probably unstable, and he'd easily be able to move from one sniping spot to another if he was on this board.
The movement turned out to be him reaching for more food. His hand returned, grasping a water purifier of some kind. He reached into his pocket and fished out another food packet, ripped it open with his teeth, and dropped the meal (which resembled a finger-sized knot of dried yarn) straight in. The purifier, sensing it, started bubbling, cooking the food quickly. While he waited, Jake glanced through the scope of his machine-sniper gun. The crosshair were centered on a seemingly normal and peaceful stretch of green. The only noticeable thing about it was the large river that ran through it. Snow blanketed several sections of it. For a moment, Jake simply gazed, transfixed by the simple natural beauty.
The purifier let out a ping, telling Jake his food was ready and bringing him out of his daze. He pulled back from the scope and tipped the purifier to his mouth, draining his meal in seconds. He chewed for a moment, taking his time. While he munched, he picked up the bag and read the label; SpagBol. As he had guessed.
Jake grunted and tossed the wrapper aside, swallowing quickly. He'd been eating this dehydrated food for several days now, and he still hadn't figured out what the hell SpagBol was. He liked it, though. Which was good, cause he had a lot of it.
Jake had just put the purifier back in it's place when a beeping noise came from the rifle. He reached up and pressed a button on the side, activating the communications suite installed in it.
"This is Hunter."
"Jake, it's David." The boy on the other line sounded frantic, but was keeping it under control. "We've made the drop, but we're being followed. Any chance you could give us some help?"
"Stay cool. I got you covered." Jake replied. "What's your position?"
"We're just outside the factory belt now."
Jake adjusted his rifle as David explained the situation. A quick glance through the scope showed him what he wanted; the speeding form of the boy speaking with him, as well as the friends he'd made the "drop" with. Most were wearing some kind of active camouflage system, making them hard to see in normal light, except for the girl of the group that had done the actual "drop". But Jake's night-scope picked out all forms of radiation, including ones that hadn't been discovered in this universe; and as such weren't blocked. To him, they seemed to glow brilliantly.
"I see you." He said into the radio. "Keep moving."
David answered with a click, the non-verbal affirmative they had agreed upon earlier.
Trailing behind David and company were their pursuers; five of them, glowing even brighter than their prey.
Jake blinked, then frowned. Whoever they people were, they weren't normal humans. Their metabolisms must be through the roof. He didn't like it.
"David, who the hell are you tangling with?" He asked. "They're glowing like mad on my scope."
"Some new group working for Special Circumstances." David's speech was clipped. "Don't know much more than that."
"Copy." Jake cut the connection, letting David focus on getting away.
Jake frowned, but after a moment of contemplation, shrugged and took the time to check over his weapon again. Whoever these freaks were, they'd be taken care of soon enough.
The exterior of his rifle looked good, no chipping or peeling on the camo paint applied to it. He popped the feed chamber top off and examined it. No visible dust, but just to make sure Jake sprayed a burst from a compressed air bottle into it. Next, he reached inside and wiggled the belt feed itself, making sure it was snug. It was.
Finally, he checked over the ammunition itself. It was in order; two hundred rounds in the feed. He leaned in closer and examined one of the rounds. Again, all in order. 25.4 millimeters, 1.00 caliber or a "full-fucking-inch", by 115 millimeters, fin-stabilized, seethed in a discarding sabot shell, hollow core filled with "electric gel"; an unstable compound that sent a couple hundred volts through whatever it came into contact with.
Satisfied, Jake slammed the top of his gun back down and yanked the charging lever. With a click, the first round slid into place. With a grim smile, he looked through his scope again.
David and his friends had made good time, moving far enough to almost be out of Jake's sight range. But they hadn't been fast enough to loose their pursuers. The five glowing forms were still there, hot on their tails.
But they didn't have to lose them themselves. Making sure the getaway was clean was Jake's job.
Jake adjusted his aim to focus on the five, finger brushing the trigger. In the moment, he felt the fabled "god feeling" snipers had reported; that sudden, glorious knowledge that you got to decide who lived and who died.
But unlike other snipers, who let it all go to their heads, Jake stayed cool. He assessed the situation. The obvious target would be the leader; take them out, and team coherency goes out the window. Of course, the problem here was he didn't know who the leader was. But, with five people in the group, it really didn't matter as much as it would have had this been a bigger group.
So Jake settled his crosshair on the person at the head of the pack, let out his breath, waited for his heart to beat...
And pulled the trigger.
The roar of the gun was deafening. The recoil was just as impressive. Jake grunted as the butt of the rifle slammed into his shoulder. But the pain was worth it; the rider he had targeted tumbled off their board. Jake cringed as he watched the glowing form roll end over end across the ground, lighting skittering across his victim's skin.
A burst of static came from his communications suite; the sensors on it were picking up some kind of transmission. Without hesitation, Jake switched it on. Voices spilled through it's speakers, a mixture of panic, anger, confusion, and surprising calm, in male and female voices.
"Shit, they got Tachs! Where'd that come from?" A boy, panicked.
"What the hell is going on? Smokies don't fight back!" A girl this time, confused and angry.
"They don't wear sneak suits either, Tally-wa. Something weird is going on here." Another girl, just angry.
Jake listened intently, adjusting his aim as he did. He aimed for the back of the pack now, sighting up the last member of the group. Over the speakers, the conversation continued.
"Boss, I've got Tachs's position. I can go get him-" The speaker, another boy, was cut off as Jake fired again. Apparently, he'd hit the guy talking. His second target managed to stay on his board, but slumped forward, causing the board to accelerated and propelling himself into the branches of a pine tree, which ripped him free of his ride and sent rider and board in opposite directions.
"Fausto!" The first female (Jake guessed she was Tally-wa, before remembering the whole naming thing David had mentioned where the last part wasn't actually in the name, meaning she was just Tally) cried. The second girl cursed.
"Ho, get out of here! Get the other Cutters on this!" She spat. One of the three remaining forms seemed to nod, then turn off in the direction from whence this group had come. Jake smiled evilly.
Too easy, he thought. Again he fired. His third shot caught the form (Ho, he guessed) straight between the shoulder blades. He was brutally lifted off his board and slammed into the earth, the force of his crash sending him sliding through a full ten feet of snow before he stopped.
Tally and the so-far unnamed girl both cursed. Both moved away from him, into the trees, either hiding or moving to helped their three downed teammates. Jake laughed softly to himself, and was about to pack up when his rifle beeped again. David calling him
"Hunter."
"Jake, we have a problem."
Jake felt his heart skip a beat, for just a moment. "What's the snag?"
"One of our hoverboards is malfunctioning. We can't make full speed. We need more time."
Jake glanced out at the two remaining Special Circumstances girls, still hidden in the trees.
"How much time do you need?" He asked.
"Five minutes, ten if you can make it."
"I can. Get moving. Hunter out." Jake cut the connection on his rifle, dropped the weapon, and stood up. It was time to stop messing around and get up close and personal.
Quickly, he grabbed his shotgun, M16, and crossbow, made sure all were loaded, and strapped the latter two to his back. Then, with a deep breath and a running start, jumped out the rusting remains of the building.
He fell, wind whistling around his head, adrenaline singing in his veins. Five seconds into his jump, his clothing tightened around him and seemed to pull him back, slowing his drop so he didn't end up a pancake on the ground. The slowdown was brutal, like the yank of a bungee cord. Jake bounced up again, silhouetting himself against the moon. Then gravity pulled at him, and he fell once more. But this time, he angled himself down, aiming for the two girls, foot extended in a flying kick. One glanced up, but didn't have enough time to do more than draw in breath before Jake, screaming a war cry, slammed into her. She fell straight off her board and slid along the forest floor, Jake actually riding her back for a moment before jumping off.
"Tally!" The other girl screamed. Jake responded to her cry by swinging his shotgun up and feeding her a face-full of electric gel-loaded shell. She twitched and dropped. Jake turned to the girl he had landed, on, Tally. She was getting up off the ground, dirt covering her face and body. Now that he was close enough, Jake could make out her features; sharp, wolf-like face and black eyes. Hair that might have been blond but was now muddy. Tally glared at him, before spitting out a large clump of dirt and leafs.
"What...are you." She spat out. Jake smiled broadly.
"Name's Jake Hunter." He said. "And I'm your worst nightmare."
Sudden banging echoed through his head, jarring Jake awake. He found himself lying face down on his bed in a puddle of his own drool.
What the hell...he thought. Slightly confused he sat up, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear his head.
Ah, that woke you up. Good. Hannah's voice sounded far away, like she was speaking from the other end of a long room. Jake shook his head again, and it cleared up.
Was that you with the banging? He asked. Hannah made a grunt that he took as a "yes".
Sorry, but you wouldn't wake up. Guess that was partially my fault; had to borrow most of your brain power to do the sifting.
Is that why I basically passed out? Cause you needed my brain?
Yeah. Again, sorry.
Hope it was worth it.
Jake stood and stretched.
What the hell was I dreaming?
The flying whale or the sniping run?
The latter one.
That was you showing Tally Youngblood and company who was boss.
Oh. Please tell me I didn't kill her or anything like that.
Nah. Though you did knock her out, tie her up to a tree, and take naked pictures of her in some kinky positions with Shay.
Okay, first, Shay who? And second, what the fuck?
The second girl in the group. The one you feed electric gel from your shot gun. And apparently that David guy was Tally's boyfriend at some point in the past. You thought it fitting. The pictures are still in your memory, if you wanna see what I'm talking about.
No! Jake actually shouted this last part out loud.
Okay then. Perhaps you'd like to know what I found out?
Sure, sure. You finally figure out what the hell Topher is?
No. I was working on it, but I picked something else up.
Oh? What could be more important than finding out what this freak is?
How about the fact that he's currently in the same room as Karolina?
Jake froze, like he'd been sealed in carbonite again. After a full fifteen seconds, he forced himself to breath again.
Where? He demanded.
Same room you were in earlier.
Fuck!
Jake spun around and stormed out. As he left, Hannah spoke up again.
I think now would be a good time to bring out the pistol. She said. Jake nodded, face set in a grim mask. He grabbed his M6D II and armed it. Cold anger filled him, and he accepted it.
Lets do this shit, he muttered.
This section of the Hostel was lit, meaning Jake didn't need his flashlight. Which was a good thing, since the area was filled with random rubble from the mansion's collapse eighty-plus years ago, and had he been on flashlight alone he probably would have made a good deal of noise stumbling into things. Something he really didn't want right now.
Voices reached his ears; soft mumbling, something that might have been crying. Jake squeezed the grip of his pistol harder.
You got anything? He asked Hannah.
Nothing worrying. Well, Karolina's body stress levels are through the roof, but that's not out of place. They've been that high for the last four days. But I am picking up higher levels of endorphins.
What the hell? Endorphins?
They're the bodies painkillers. They cause a feeling of pleasure or dull pain-
I know what they are, but why the hell would she have a higher level of them?
She's experiencing something pleasing, obviously.
Jake blinked, taking this in. As it sank into his mind, something else rose up from within it. For the first time in four days, the Heat returned to his body. He cracked his neck and steadied his pistol.
Let's go find out what's making her feel so good then, shall we?
Still silent, he crouched and advanced, back to the wall and pistol held up in the air. A minute later, he was near the door.
Before he could go in, more footsteps made the floor vibrate. Jake looked around, and noticed Nico moving down the hall from the other direction.
Hold up. Hannah cautioned. Let her go first.
Why?
Well, for starters, she's on Topher's "side". Second, it's just good tactical sense.
Never go into a room first unless you have to, Jake quoted from memory. Which was strange, because he didn't remember learning it. He shrugged it off. Wherever it had come from, it was good advice.
So he headed it, slipping back into the shadows while Nico walked past him, unaware. He kept his eyes on her, even as she slipped into the room. Now clear, Jake moved up to just outside it.
Almost the instant Nico entered, a commotion started. Shouting echoed down the halls, in Nico and Karolina's voices. Jake guessed Topher was staying out of the argument. Through the walls (which had been built to withstand an earthquake such as the one that sank the mansion), Jake couldn't hear most of the words, but he heard enough to make his heart freeze again.
"What the hell are you doing kissing my guy?" Nico howled.
That was enough for Jake. Gritting his teeth in anger, he swung himself around the door-
Just in time to get a face-full of mud.
For a moment, Jake was disoriented, causing him to stumble. But the brown gook came off his face fast enough, clearing his eyes to see where it had come from; Nico had summoned it from her staff, and judging by the streak of brown on the table leading from her, had been aiming for Karolina, who was to his right, minus bracelet, until Jake got in the way.
Nico and Karolina didn't even seem to notice his presence. They continued to argue, with Karolina throwing the question "How many guys do you have!" at Nico before throwing herself at her. The two started to fight, rolling on the floor, kicking, scratching and pulling each other's hair.
"Wow. Catfight." Topher muttered. Or attempted to. He got to the "fight" in "catfight" before Jake grabbed him by the shirt.
"What the hell are you doing, freak." Jake spat into Topher's face. The boy looked back, fear in his face, but Jake's senses had been heightened by the Heat; the boy wasn't afraid. He could see it in his eyes. They weren't those of someone fearing for their life, but those of someone watching a plan unfold, changing and adjusting the next steps within their head as things happened.
"I'm not doing anything!" He pleaded. "I was just talking with Karolina, and then she started kissing me-"
"Wrong answer." With a grunt, Jake hurled Topher into the opposite wall, not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to shake some dust from the ceiling. "Now sit down and stay there till I tell you to get up."
Footsteps sounded from behind Jake as Topher picked himself up off the ground; two sets, one lighter than the other, which shook the floor enough to re-raise the dust that had fallen.
Seconds later, their owners showed up; Gert, followed closely by her dinosaur.
Arsenic and Old Lace.
Gert paused as she entered the room, just long enough to get a good hold on the situation.
"Knock it the fuck off!" She shouted. Old Lace backed up her command with a roar that made Jake's organs rumble.
Only Jake and Topher headed her. The two girls continued to fight as if nothing had happened, rolling back and forth across the floor. Gert scowled at them, then turned to Jake.
"Separate them." She ordered. Jake nodded, fine with taking orders from her. Following orders was much easier than thinking, which was something he didn't want to do right now.
Jake reached down when Nico and Karolina rolled back towards him, and, grabbing a girl in each hand, held them aloft by the backs of their shirts. Even like this, they tried to fight, swinging their arms and legs at each other. One of Karolina's random kicks connected with Jake's nuts, sending stars across his vision. He shoved the pain into the darkest part of his mind and kept both girls apart.
"Have you gone absolutely fucking insane?" Gert questioned. "I thought we were friends here!"
"She started it!" Both girls said simultaneously, pointing at each other. Jake would have laughed, had he not been so angry.
"Shut you fucking mouths, both of you." Gert spat back at them. "You disgust me. A couple hours ago, I almost liked you. And now? You're trying to kill each other. And over what?"
"This worthless fucker." Jake added. He didn't think Gert was finished with her tyraid, but it felt good to say it.
"I'm right-" Topher began, starting to get up.
"Hey, did I say you could get up?" Jake roared.
"Uh-"
"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Get. Up?" Jake repeated.
"Well, no, but-"
"Then sit the fuck back down! And if you want to keep you brains inside your head you'd better chill."
Topher cringed, and complied. Jake turned back to Gert, strangely satisfied. He jerked his head at Gert. "Go ahead, do your thing."
The girl nodded in response.
"You can let them go, now." She indicated Nico and Karolina. Jake dropped them both, none to gently. Gert now turned her attention to Topher.
"I don't know what your doing, but I don't like it. Maybe you should just leave."
Old Lace seemed to agree with her mistress, growling and sniffing Topher menacingly.
"I'm fine, thanks." Topher said, face sullen. Jake growled and hauled out his pistol.
"I don't think that was a request, meat." He ground out. "Now you can either go under your own power, or I'll haul your corpse out. Either way works for me." He cocked the pistol.
"It was a request, Jake." Gert said quietly. "We aren't our parents. We can't force him out, no matter what we want to do."
Jake glanced back at her, hoping she was joking, but saw she was sincere. He saw the logic in her words, though.
He flipped his pistol's safety back on again and pocketed it. He turned to Gert.
"Let's go, Jake. I don't know about you, but I think this fighting may have finally made me tired enough to sleep." She said.
Sounds like a good idea, Hannah spoke up for the first time in nearly five minutes. I can use your brain again to continue the search.
"I think I'll join you." Jake said. He started for the door, but Nico shoved past him, heading for the "front door" of the Hostel. Topher, now freed from the danger of being filled with .50 caliber rounds, followed after her, calling for her to wait up. Jake watched them go, followed closely by Gert, who went the opposite direction.
"What was that for?" Karolina called from behind Jake. He turned to see her standing back up, dusting herself off and putting her bracelet back on.
"What was what for?" He questioned.
"Threatening Topher like that. I mean, what's he done? He's just a kid with bad parents, and your-"
Jake cut her off by grabbing her shirt again, this time the front, and pulling her close enough to kiss her. The alien girl's argument died to a surprised mumble, then silence, against Jake's lips.
"That's why." Jake said, releasing her. Karolina stumbled backward, eyes wide. Before she could do anything else, Jake turned on his heel and headed down the stairs.
By the time he reached the room where he had been discussing Topher with the other three members of his "side", Jake could already feel the darkness starting to eat at his vision as Hannah borrowed most of his brain to run her search. Thankfully for him, the two runaways who had stayed down there had shuffled around; Molly was now curled up on the couch, having either moved on her own power or been moved by Chase so he could use her legs as a pillow, which he was doing now.
Either reason worked for Jake. The result was what mattered. The comfy chair was open. Gladly, Jake dropped into it, and was asleep before hit the cushions.
Like there was a film projector in his head that started when he fell asleep, Jake instantly found himself in another dream. But this time, it was different. Unlike the others he'd had, there wasn't any confusion about it; he knew this one all to well. This wasn't some event from his "real" past; this was something that had happened less than a year ago, which he remembered even when he was awake. All to well, as it was, though he really, really didn't want to.
It was dark, late evening in the middle of summer, and he was in a car, his dad's modified to (and possibly beyond) the legal limit canary yellow Ford Mustang, driving along a stretch of Highway 101 that curved close to the Pacific Ocean, separated from the mass of water only by a large ditch on the side of the road and a quarter mile of hills, sand, trees and houses. He wasn't alone. In the passenger seat, leaning out the open window to get a look at a passing pod of Bottlenose Dolphins frolicking in the waves, was one Clementine Jones, better known as either Clem or, less commonly, Jonesy, a classmate and Jake's unofficial best friend. He glanced over at her. Now that the non-dreaming part of his mind thought about it, he realized she looked a lot like Molly, except older; brown hair, green eyes, wiry build. She had the same boundless energy, too.
Behind them and in the trunk (the barrier between trunk and car having been removed by Jake's dad) was a mixture of car-camping equipment, travel supplies, Ophelia, Clem's treasured electric guitar, a pair of Halo costumes, and a large box of Halo-related memorabilia.
He and Clem had been finishing up the last section of a massive, just under a week-long summer road trip from Los Angeles to Seattle and back that they had initiated to celebrate their "Sweet Sixteens" and their newly-acquired ability to drive without an adult in the car.
The trip hadn't been for that only, though. The two had first thought of the idea for this trip when Jake had received and email from a buddy up in Washington wishing he could come to the annual Emerald City Comic Convention in Seattle. When Jake had checked the dates for the convention, and found them open and matching with their new freedom, he suggested that they go. Clem had jumped at the chance. Though the two could have easily gone to the much larger convention in San Diego, they felt that the Sierra Delta Charlie Charlie (as Clem, a bigger Halo fan even than Jake, had called it) was to big and commercial. That, and (much more important to both of them) there was to be a large Halo section to the Echo Triple Charlie. Almost a miniature convention within a convention, according to Jake's friend.
And so they planned their trip; one day to get to Oregon, car-camp for the night, drive the rest of the way to Seattle the next day, either find a hotel there or car-camp somewhere, spend the next two days at the ECCC, and then redo the first two days of their trip, except going back to California.
To Jake's surprise, both his and Clem's parents had okayed the plan, Jake's almost instantly, and Clem's after two nail-biting days and a strange turnaround in their thinking about their daughter.
So far, the trip had gone beautify. They'd made the drive there without incident (though Jake had felt slightly uncomfortable with Clem sleeping less than a foot away from him in the car), shown off their Spartan and Orbital Drop Shock Trooper costumes to great success and nerd-adoration at the convention, played (and won) a Halo 2 Team Slayer tournament on the second day and received a the mass of Halo crap for doing so, taken part in an impromptu rock out (with Clem playing "Blow Me Away" by Breaking Benjamin and the MJLONIR Mix of the Halo theme to vast popularity) and managed to get the first night of their trip home done calmly.
Now, it was their last night on the road, and Jake was eager to get back. Though she wouldn't admit it, Jake could tell Clem wanted to get back too. Seattle had been a bit too cold for their tastes, and they hadn't seen the sun the entire time they were there.
Jake yawned broadly, feeling slightly tired. He'd been running on an energy drink for the last couple hours, and it was starting to wear off.
"Hey, you okay?" Clem asked, noticing. Jake glanced over, seeing her pull herself back into the car, eyes full of concern. He noticed they had a sort of wild look to them as well. This made sense. Late nights brought out the weirdness in people. Jake had heard this called either "night craziness" or "night drunkenness".
Jake shrugged in answer to Clem's question.
"Yeah, just fine. Just thinking about what a good time I had."
"You and me both. That was awesome. We have to do this again next year."
"Oh Rah." Jake pumped his fist. A slow smile spread on his face. "You remember that little kid who we played against in the tournament?"
"You mean the whiny noobish BK who could only get kills with the rocket launcher and started crying when I snagged it first and kept blowing him up in the Banshee?"
"That's the one. I still can't believe he threw a fit on stage in front of everyone."
"Me either. Sore loser, I guess." Clem laughed, a sound that echoed off the insides of the car. "What about that creepy guy with the glasses kept following you around? You remember him?"
"Hard to forget someone who managed to get themselves beaten up by a bunch of dudes in ODST costumes."
"Well, he was annoying you, and you were an ODST at that point, so those guys were technically your brothers or whatever. Helljumpers stick together, you know?"
"All to well." Jake's face fell back to neutral. "I'm just glad to hear there's another Halo book coming out. I was worried First Strike was gonna be the last one."
"Oh yeah. I almost pissed myself I was so excited."
"Wow. That is really disgusting, you know that."
"Sorry. But it's true."
"You really are a bigger fan than I am, I'll say that."
"For now."
Silence filled the car. Jake glanced down at the dashboard; half a tank of gas and no other problems. There wasn't anything to distract Jake from the strange dullness of the open road.
"Okay, now I'm kinda bored." He said.
"Well, I can't have you being bored now, can I?" Clem replied, smiling. Jake joined her. He knew what was coming next. The one thing that broke the boredom of a Halo fan; Halo trivia.
"What's the Master Chief's real name?" Clem asked.
"John. Too easy."
"And what's special about his Spartan serial number?"
"It's a seven reference. One time one times seven equals seven."
"And..." Clem prompted.
"There's some Bible reference. Book of John, couple lines in, says something about an unstoppable force thing or whatever."
"Good, but you really should know the reference itself."
Jake snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, no thanks. I got a lot of books on my reading list, but the Bible ain't one of them."
"That's fair. It's a free country, you don't have to read it if you don't want to."
"Says the girl going to a private all-girl Catholic school."
Clem glared at him, but in a cute, friendly way.
"For your information," She said, crossing her arms and sticking up her nose, "I don't even read the Bible when I'm supposed to."
"Oh, a bad girl in a church-run school. How cliché." Jake said drolly. "So what, pray tell, do you do in that time?"
"I'm currently rewriting the Bible. My version has Halo people in it."
"Nice..." Jake smile slowly again. "So, who's God?"
"The Precursors. Duh."
"Right, the only people to ever reach a Tier One civilization. Who's Noah?"
"A Forerunner. And the Ark is the-"
"Place where all the Halo's can be fired from. Nice. Mary and Joseph?"
"Captain Keyes and Dr. Halsey. And the Spartan's are Jesus."
"I've gotta read this when you finish." Jake blinked, realizing they'd reached the end of this particular conversation. "Right, back to trivia."
"Sure." Clem took a deep breath and clenched her hands; something she did when she was thinking. Jake could have sworn he heard her say "here goes nothing," but he didn't have time to ask for clarification before Clem started firing of questions.
"Who's brain was Cortana created from?"
"Dr. Halsey's. They cloned a bunch of 'em, only one made it through."
"Who does Cortana look like?"
"Miranda Keyes."
"What's her relation to Dr. Halsey?"
Jake grinned again. "Ah, you sneaky bitch! That's a trick question! No one's sure, but some think she's the lovechild of Captain Keyes and Halsey."
"Alright, then who's hotter; Miranda Keyes or Cortana?"
Jake started to answer, but it caught in his throat. "Wait, what? What the Journey kind of question is that?"
"Just answer it."
Jake shrugged. "Fine. Personally, I think Cortana. I mean, Keyes is a looker and all, but she's too stuck up and military style. Cortana's more like a civilian. I mean, the Chief obviously likes her, but not Keyes. Seems like a good indicator to me."
"That's good." Clem took another breath, then in one breath asked "Okay, who's hotter; Cortana or me?"
This one shocked Jake good. For a full half minute, he couldn't do anything but think and drive.
It shocked him so much that he almost missed the car stopped in the middle of a left curving section of the highway.
"What the fuck?" He howled.
"It's a real question!" Clem shouted back, thinking his outburst was directed at her.
"No, what the fuck is that?" Jake pointed forward with one finger, both hands still on the wheel. Clem twisted in her seat to look forward again.
"What the fuck?" She wondered. Jake took his foot of the gas slightly, slowing the car almost to a stop a good five yards from the other vehicle. The car ahead appeared to be stalled. Jake was about to get out and see if he could help when he noticed that the lights were off, the engine was running, and there was a small light on the dashboard.
"That's an undercover police car." Clem muttered. "I wonde-Oh crap."
"What?" Jake asked, suddenly worried.
"I think we just stumbled on a sting operation."
"A sting? For what?"
"Remember those carjackers that've been all over the news? Maybe this is something for them. The LAPD did say they were going to be cracking down on them."
"Ah, shit." Jake spat. "Well, we should-"
He stopped. He could have sworn he'd heard something. Clem apparently heard it to. She cocked her head to the side, listening.
Now Jake was sure of it; police sirens, blaring full blast and getting closer. Fast.
Jake glanced to his left; rising up above them was a ten-foot high wall of rock, topped with highway guards, on the other side of which was the section of highway going north as opposed to their south. The sirens were coming from further south on it. By now, Jake could see lights from that direction. Headlights, and the swirling red-and-blue lights of a police car.
"You know, maybe we should-" Clem began.
"Yeah, we're going." Jake pressed the gas again, and the car surged forward.
He had just managed to maneuver around the car blocking his path when it happened.
On the section of highway above him, the car producing the light's he'd seen sped towards the same turn he was on well over the speed limit. Right behind it was a police cruiser, the other half of the sting operation that Jake and Clem had wandered into. As the turn approached, the drive attempted to haul the car around it. But he failed.
Instead of turning to the right, the car continued straight, and smashed through the rail guards on the sides. It soared out over the south-bound section of highway, turning upside down and dipping forward as it fell.
Jake saw it coming, and hauled the wheel over to the right, trying to avoid it.
Even now, almost a year later, he still wasn't sure what happened next. Whenever he tried to think of it, all he got was a jumble of images and sounds and emotions. The sensation of a right turn, his tires squealing in protest to it, a horrid noise of metal and glass shattering, a jarring thump that shook his whole body...
And Clementine screaming his name.
Then, nothing. Darkness.
After an indeterminate period of time, Jake found himself conscious again. Every part of him hurt, and he couldn't see. For a moment, he worried he'd gone blind. He forced his eyes open and was greeted with a blurry wash of color. Well, at least he wasn't blind. But as his vision cleared, he found himself in just as bad a predicament; he was on grass, staring up at the sky. How he'd gotten out of the car was beyond him. Something splashed into his right eye, forcing it closed. He propped himself up with a groan. The road under his hands was wet. It had rained while he was out cold. In fact, it still was raining. How long had he been out for, anyway?
Jake rose unsteadily to his feet. He was a bit disoriented, but he found it clearing quickly. Something ran into his eye again, thicker and warmer than the rain. He wiped it away, and his hand came back red. He must have cut his head.
No time to worry about himself. He had to get back to the road and see what had happened.
Gathering his strength, Jake started walking for the side of the highway. Pain shot up his right leg, making him wince. He slowed, limping. The distance couldn't have been more than two yards, but it felt like a mile to Jake on his bad leg. Finally, he reached the ditch at the side of the road and slid into it.
What he saw on the other side made him stop and drop to his knees.
The roadblocking car was gone, but a standard cruiser, possibly the one that had been chasing the speeding car, was parked a little bit further down the road. On the road itself, visible even through the fresh dousing of rain, were a pair of skid marks. They appeared about a foot from where Jake was kneeling, swerved away a large gouge in the pavement that was scorched and littered with random metallic debris, and into the ditch he was standing in. Slightly afraid of what he was going to see, Jake turned.
Embedded a couple yards from him was his dad's car. It was buried so far into the loam of the ditch that Jake could barely see the front wheels at all.
Then he realized that was because the front end was gone, compressed into itself by the impact. The back end of the Mustang had done little better. One of the rear wheels had exploded at some point, and the remains were still wrapped around the rim. The rear window was pulverized, and several still-smoking dents in the trunk showed had been removed by external forces.
While he stood there, Jake heard voices, coming from the direction of the police car. He glanced over to see that there were three more vehicles there as well; a fire engine, a tow truck, and attached to that truck the smoking, charred remains of the car that had started this whole disaster. From what Jake could see, the driver hadn't made it. Visible through the remains of the driver's side door was an extremely charred arm, and Jake could smell cooking meat. The guy must have been flash-cooked the moment he hid the pavement; the speeder died a speedy death. How ironic.
Despite the grimness of the situation, Jake found himself smirking. Clem would just love this-
Clem.
Knowledge nailed Jake worse than the crash had; he hadn't seen the girl since he'd woken up. Where the hell was she?
In a panic, Jake twisted sideways, sending brutal surge of pain through his bad leg. He cursed and fell. For a moment, he thought he was going to black out. But the pain receded, and he managed to get up again. He stood, shakily, and looked around, slower this time.
He found Clementine seconds later. She was a yard away from the crashed Mustang, laying face up on the ground. Jake stumbled over to her side.
She looked bad; her skin was deathly pale, her hair matted with blood. A large bruise was forming on the side of her face, and Jake could see more bloodstains on her clothes.
But, despite this, she was still alive. Jake could see the soft flutter of her heart in her chest, weak though it was, and the slightly erratic cycle of her breathing. Jake took comfort from this. Behind him, the tow truck took off, dragging the destroyed car with it.
Clem groaned and coughed. Jake turned his attention back to her. The girl opened her eyes weakly, and Jake helped her sit up.
"Hey, welcome back." He said softly. "I think you're gonna be alright."
Clem coughed again, then looked at him. "Jake..."
Jake didn't hear her. He kept on talking, almost unable to stop.
"Oh man, my dad's gonna kill me. That was his favorite car, you know? Hey, when they ask, you'll back me up that this wasn't my fault, right? I mean, that idiot drove off the road onto us-"
"Jake." Clem said more forcefully. Jake continued, even though he'd heard her this time.
"And I really hope they don't forbid us from doing this again next year. But if they do, I guess we can still hang out, right? I mean-"
"Jake, listen." Clem commanded, grabbing his arm. Jake stopped and obeyed.
"What?"
"Stop lying to yourself. You know I'm not gonna make it."
"What?" Jake glanced down at her again. Now, he could see something that he'd missed last time; around her middle was a mass of gauze, soaked through with blood. Lower, he could see that her right leg was twisted almost all the way around.
Jake felt sick and dizzy. "Oh shit-"
"No." Clem barked, though weakly. "No pity, no weakness. Not from you. This isn't your fault, and it's not mine. There's nothing you can do now."
"But you-"
"No buts." Clem looked at him. Jake could see there wasn't any hesitation in her eyes; she had accepted her fate. "Now shut the fuck up and listen."
Jake swallowed his nausea and nodded. Clem continued.
"I need you to do two things for me," She said. "First, take these to my parents. Tell 'em I love them." Clem reached into her shirt, and dug out something on a metal necklace. Somethings; a pair of metal plates. Jake recognized them instantly.
"Your dog-tags..." He whispered. Clem nodded, and pressed the two tags into Jake's hand. He looked down at them, then gently slid them into his pocket.
"What else do you want done?" He asked.
Clem looked over his shoulder. Jake saw she was looking at the Mustang.
"Ophelia...get Ophelia." Clem murmured. It took Jake a moment to remember that this was the name of her guitar. He nodded and hurried to the car. From this angle, he could see the two doors in the front had been removed manually; dents in the frame showed where the paramedics or firemen or whoever had used a hydraulic ram to rip them off. He leaned inside. Luckily for him, the contents of the trunk had slid forward during the crash, and atop this pile of stuff was Clementine's guitar. He snatched it and made his way back. He gave the instrument to Clem, who, looked at it fondly. She strummed it, flicked on of the strings and adjusted the length with one of the knobs on the top (there was a technical name for it, but Jake couldn't remember it, along with quite a few others things), and kissed.
"Take good care of her." She said, handing it to Jake. Gently, he took it and slung the strap across his back. Clem glanced at it, as if making sure it was secure, then back at Jake.
"So...is there...anything else I could do?" Jake whispered. Clem blinked, sadly, then smiled.
"Would a kiss be to much to ask?"
"Not at all."
Gently, Jake pulled her closer and pressed his lips to hers.
This was Jake's first real kiss, and it wasn't anything to be really proud of. It was awkward, neither partner really sure what to do. But quickly they eased up, and melted into the kiss. Jake held it for as long as he could, only breaking away when he needed to breath. He smiled slightly, feeling light-headed.
"I love you." Clementine whispered. Jake sighed and pulled her closer.
"I love you too." He answered. The girl sighed, and relaxed into his shoulder. Jake held her for a full minute, then turned to say something else, stomach flipping giddily.
The feeling went away when he noticed Clementine was gone. For the last minute, he'd been hugging a corpse.
Jake looked at her face, strangely peaceful. With a final hug and one last kiss, he closed her eyes and placed her on the ground.
Now the dream began to differentiated from the real memory. In real life, Jake had sat next to Clementine's body till the ambulance had arrived and rode with it to the hospital to face his parents and hers. But in the dream, Jake stood, anger in his veins. Above him, storm clouds gathered, lighting flickering inside them. Jake howled to the sky, raising his fists in anger, and in the growing dark he could had sworn he saw them glow with a brilliant blue light, as if plasma or electricity was running through them. The light intensified, Jake howled-
And he was brutally jerked back into reality by Hannah.
While he was still regaining his composure, Alex and Nico ran into the room, hand in hand, and started shouting at them to get up. With a groan, Jake forced himself off the couch. He found his eyes blurry, and he wiped them off. To his surprise, he realized he'd been crying during his dream. He brushed the thought away as easily as the tears themselves.
Around him, his fellow sleepers complained about the sudden awakening.
"Damn fucking figures." Gert swore. "Takes me four days to fall asleep, but four seconds to wake up."
"If this is a drill or some other shenanigans, I'm gonna kill someone." Chase growled. The only member of the group who didn't complain was Molly, who was still asleep. Instead, she made sucking noises and started to trust her hips against the couch.
"Complain later." Alex said quickly. "Where the hell is Karolina?"
"Not a clue." Gert said, stretching. "Haven't seen her since that brawlfest upstairs. Why?"
Alex paused, catching his breath. Nico jumped in.
"It's Topher. You guys were right; he's no good. He's a monster."
"Woah, we were right?" Chase sounded amazed. "Nic-Wait, monster? You mean like our parents?"
"No, worse. He's not human." Nico looked glanced around nervously. Jake noticed there was a trail of blood rolling down the side of her neck.
"I knew it." Gert growled. "Old Lace smelled something funny about that guy the moment he stepped in here."
"But what is he?" Chase wondered. "I mean, I know he's not human, but what kind of-"
"I think I have an answer." Hannah spoke up. All eyes turned to Jake.
"Well? Out with it."
"It would appear, according to my data, that our friend Topher is a vampire." Hannah said. "And if my sensor readings are right, he's coming this way now. And he's mad."
Oh fucking shit, Jake thought. What next?
End of Issue Three