Night had fallen when Vlad pulled his bus into the Bronx. Will was nudged awake by Connor and he stretched his arms out in front of him, blinking in the small yellow glow of the in-light of the bus. Around him, his companions awoke.
Snow was coming down in thick washes around them and they were grateful for Vlad's built-in heater. Katie pressed her face against the smudged windows as she stared through the swirl of snow and dark. "How are we going to find don Pedro through all of this?"
Travis came to sit next to her, squinting. "He used to stay there, I think?" He frowned as he pointed to a façade of harsh brick. Connor nodded.
Vlad laughed again, popping a bottle open. "Used to, kid. If he's still there no one in hell has seen him in a long while. Listen, he's probably run off. We'll have heard if he still was here; people would be coming up to him all the time."
Travis grinned, "But a needle in a haystack, yes? C'mon Vlad, think like a thief."
Before the bus driver could respond, a noise at the back jolted the group from its reverie.
A tense silence had crept over the bus.
The Hunters stood in a solemn group, their expressions marble and their bags slung over their shoulders. Phoebe was in the lead. Frowning, Rashidah stood up from her position beside Will. "Yes, Phoebe? Is there something you wish to tell me?"
"We are leaving, Lieutenant." Rashidah's face paled as fear and confusion began to wake up in her features.
"What do you mean, leaving? I have not ordered anything of the kind! We still have to help…"
"You help them, then!" Phoebe snarled. "We put it to a vote while you were here consorting with boys!"
"I had my reasons, Phoebe and you know them very well!"
"You have broken your vows to Artemis already." The girl stated, her eyes flicking over to Will. "Who knows how many other vows you have broken-"
"Hey." Fuming, Will stood up next to Rashidah. "She hasn't done anything…"
"Silence, boy!" Phoebe's eyes raked Rashidah's face. "You are longer one of us, Rashidah. And so we will leave." Desperation's claws raked the air as the rest of them stared at one another in shock and confusion.
"What the hades do you mean leaving?" Clarisse demanded; the Hunters ignored her.
"You can't." Rashidah whispered, her eyes begging through the hardness of her face. "Phoebe-"
But the girl had already opened the doors and a blast of frigid wind crushed the bus as the hunters left. The others watched helplessly as the last of them dropped into the snow outside; her dark hair swirling with the white flakes of the storm before the doors of the bus slammed shut again.
Rashidah trembled over to the door, screaming out into the night, "Phoebe! Sisters! Come back this instant, come back-" Her voice broke on the last word, leaving it dangling there hopelessly.
The silence fell over them as they blinked; it had all happened so damn fast and now they were alone again in the tiny bus shut up against the elements.
Rashidah hastily blinked the tears out of her eyes and erased the vulnerability with an expression of war. "I should have foreseen this happening. I was a fool." She said simply as she shut the door.
"They're being idiots. Who needs them, anyway?" Clarisse growled in disgust. "Only cowards run from a fight-"
"Don't call my hunters-" Rashidah began but Will stood up to prevent the oncoming fray.
"No matter," Rashidah proclaimed again as she turned her face towards the door. "They have gone. What is next?"
"We've got to find this don Pedro guy, right?" Will asked the Stolls, who nodded.
"Yeah," Connor began awkwardly. "I'm telling you, the best way to find this guy is to look where he was last." Vlad shrugged as he poured the amber liquid down his throat.
"You can try, kid."
"I'll bring Travis and we'll just go." Connor stood up but Will shook his head.
"Travis, you should stay. It's getting really bad out there and you're still weak. I'll go with you."
"I am coming as well." Rashidah muttered. Clarisse made to stand but Will shook his head.
"Same as Travis, Clarisse."
"Hades," the girl retorted, "If you think I'm missing…"
"Stay here and hold down the fort?" Will asked. Clarisse glared on but finally nodded, the fatigue in her face evident as she settled down, wincing. Will looked towards Austin, "Anything, you know what to do, right?" The younger boy nodded. Will's eyes met Kayla's for a second before they danced away to avoid the hurt on her face. "Be back in a bit."
Connor pushed the doors of the bus shut tight behind him as the winter winds attacked them like wolves on a hunt. They drew their collars up against their lips as they trembled and ran through the biting snow towards the brick building that Connor had pointed out earlier. Through the swirl, Will thought he could make out shadows slipping across the few lights that blinked in the space. He hadn't quite realised it before, but the silence that had enveloped New York was new and menacing. Oh, this wasn't Morpheus putting the city to sleep as it had been in the last battle; and that somehow made it more chilling, that they were awake in the silence.
Slipping a little, they made it to the entrance and pounded hard on the wooden doors. A slat of honey light fell through as the doors were opened slightly. The backlight lit up the sharp features of a boy with cropped hair who squinted at them before gesturing them in.
They fell through the entrance in relief as they were masked in the warm musty air, the cold a memory behind them.
The boy glared; his sharp features inlaid onto his coppery skin. "And who the hell are you?" He demanded. The tip of a silver revolver was clear underneath the lad's trench coat.
"Deuce," Connor coughed as he brushed stray specks of snow off his shoulders, "don Pedro. He here? We're- I'm a friend of his…"
The boy laughed, "Bullshit! Anyone can claim that and go all 'man, I'm a pal of don Pedro's, he here? Only I want him to help me forge some shit.'"
"It's true!" Connor protested.
"We have to see him," Will accentuated, "It's important."
"He's not here, anyway." The boy cocked an eyebrow, "He left when those guys took over…"
"Aw that's crap!" Connor insisted. "Deuce would never leave the Bronx. Not for anything."
A curious expression came to play on the boy's face. Connor drew up his sleeve, exposing his left shoulder where a swirling mark was etched onto his skin.
"There, okay? Deuce don Pedro owes me and my brother. We go way back, went to get this mark together when we were fourteen. It's the work of-"
"Jeremy Chan." The boy nodded. "That's his work, I know it. I've seen it before on don Pedro's shoulder." Squinting, he looked at them; they could sense his thoughts beating against his skull. Finally his face softened. "Fine, c'mon." Leading them down a couple of flights of stairs, he brought them to a gnarled trapdoor. "Very old-age spy movie." He muttered as he swung the entrance open.
"Hey, don Pedro!" He yelled down- greenish lights were emitting from the room. "I've got a kid here who says he knows you and I'm bringing him down." He gestured for the three to descend, "If you're shitting with me," He muttered, "If you are, we open fire and make no mistake."
They went down the ladder; Connor first, then Rashidah and finally Will. The room was covered by ghastly wallpaper, and the lights were coming off at least three computer screens.
"Travis?" A voice broke out from behind a desk and a short boy came out; he had an impish grin in his merry eyes and two dimples that twinkled when he spoke. "Travis Stoll?"
"Connor, actually." The two boys exchanged a complicated handshake.
"Hell, man." Deuce grinned, "Thought you were up in Long Island or something- wherever the hell you go, anyway. Haven't heard from you since this new regime and stuff, feared the worst, man."
"Was, but thing is, we're in a bit of a… ah, situation. These are my friends anyway, Will and Rashidah. Guys, don Pedro."
Deuce nodded, running his finger across his bottom lip. "Yeah, so what do you need? Normally I don't see anyone, but I do owe you and your brother." In aside to the other two, he put in, "These idiots saved my ass back in the day from a couple of dumbasses who kept insisting I stole some of their cash. Nearly got turned into the shit they serve in school lunches." Before Connor could reply, Deuce threw his hands into the air. "Shit, I just remembered!" He ran back to one of his desks and pulled out a piece of paper. Staring at Will, he thrust it into his hands. Will stared down at a picture of him next to Austin; they were rectangular pictures, the kind you'd find in passports. The words "Fugitives" along with further details- including a reward- were emblazoned in thick blocks of black at the bottom. "Thought you looked familiar! These just came out today."
"Yeah," Said Connor. "About our troubles? This is it. Escaped prisoners."
"Hold the hell up!" Deuce countered. "Start from the beginning."
"You know those prisons…"
"The ones they bring those rebels to?" Deuce asked; Rashidah and Will exchanged a glance, remembering an earlier conversation. Connor nodded.
"Travis was in one- he's fine now- but we're all on the run on account of that. Like, we helped him escape. And we need fake documents, Deuce; we're planning to go to Colorado Springs."
Deuce frowned taking it all in, "Wait, why the hell do you want to go to Colorado Springs?"
"We need to meet someone from there." Will ad-libbed. "Will you help us? Please?"
Deuce nodded. "Favour repaid and all that, but to make the documents it'll take at least twenty fours, I need to hack in and all."
"You've never done that before?" Connor smirked, "Hard to believe."
"Eh, not really. See, if I've done it lots of times, the bastards would've been on to me… Or changed the system to make it more challenging or something. I've been saving my skills for something big and I guess this is it." He frowned. "Just the three of you?"
"We've got some friends waiting outside," Connor said. "I'll bring them. And um, you know Vlad?"
"Means well but god, he's a pain." Deuce winced. "Why?"
"Well he kind of knows where you are now."
Deuce nodded sharply, "Ah well. He's decent anyway."
When Raymond Crafts pushed the main door of the Big House open that icy morning, he was faced with a cluster of his Golden and some of their monsters. Fear and apprehension, anger and disbelief were waiting in their ranks. Raymond felt a twinge of discomfort. "What in hell's name is going on?" He demanded.
A dracaena pointed a finger to the door; Raymond turned to face it and took in a sharp breath of fury. For painted on the door in silvery ink was a tiny image that beat on drums of silent victory.
The mark of Olympus.
It turned out that the name of the boy who had met them at the entrance was named Paul and he also turned out to be a wicked make-up artist. By the time he had his way with the eight of them- Vlad had cursed at knowing don Pedro had been under his nose the whole time before cheerily bidding them farewell- they looked unrecognisable.
"Smile, sweetheart." He winked sarcastically at Connor as he snapped a picture; Deuce was going to use them as their fake personas.
"Love to." Connor purred as he put on a sultry expression.
Deuce frowned as his fingers flew over the keys of the computer, talking as he typed. "New York's shit nowadays, like yeah we're not going hungry or any of that- yet, anyway- but we're not exactly free birds either. They have a hard-core resistance somewhere here, but I'm not it in."
"No guts?" Clarisse asked. Deuce glared.
"I'm more of a behind the scenes man, sweetheart. And they do bad things to the guys they catch. Anyway, you can use a fake account I set up way back to book the tickets. You'll owe me after this shit is over." He glanced at the Stolls as he tossed them a credit card. "Apart from that, there's nothing I can do except pray." He looked up sympathetically.
"This is enough, man." Connor said stepping up to look as Deuce continued to pound the keys.
"I guess you can rest here for the time-being. Get some sleep and all, food and stuff." He raised an eyebrow at Travis. "Especially you, you look like shit, no offence."
Travis winked. "I try."
Raymond cursed as he swung over a cup of steaming coffee. Ethan watched as the liquid stained the carpet a bleeding brown. Raymond's eyes were blazing with mad fury as his lips curled in hellfire anger.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? It's all gone downhill since the bastards escaped!" He hissed.
Ethan shrugged, trying to shake off the memory of his previous night's dream, which clung to him like a shroud. "I don't know… Find out who did this?"
Raymond raised his eyes to meet him. "You think this is easy, Nakamura? If I don't do this well, everything I fought for will be gone! Kronos will kill-" He took in a calming breath. "I have to figure this out." Ethan could feel the fear running out of the boy's skull; he could see it as it danced in the air.
"Who do you think is responsible?" Raymond asked- almost begging. "We can't let this continue- they can't go around like this, they're under Kronos!" The boy pressed his shaking fingers against his shut eyes and when he opened them, he looked almost transcendent. "It's that Aphrodite girl- Silena something, the one who spied for us. She's been close with that Chris what'- his-name, recently. I've never seen them talk until like, a week ago, when everything began. Suspicious, I think."
"Rodriguez?" Ethan frowned, "I knew him back on the Princess."
Raymond nodded, relieved. "It's a damn good lead, believe me. I'll keep a further eye on them to confirm. I'm willing to bet my life that it's them. They might even be connected with the escapees."
Nakamura nodded numbly. A couple of the Golden entered the room with a bucket of brown paint; they'd painted over the symbol, hiding it without fuss to avoid talk and a big stir.
Outside, as they both stood at opposite ends of the pavilion, Mitchell and Nyssa caught each other's eyes and winked as Malcolm shook his head to hide the little seed of triumph and apprehension that was growing in his throat.