Steve tugged on the sleeve of his uniform, shifting the tight fabric into place. Putting on his uniform, it had felt good. He felt useful again with a mission to carry out, people he could help. But all that had been swept under the enormity of the task before him and the remainder of the team Nick had dubbed "The Avengers."
Loki had the Tesseract and, if Tony was right, Stark Tower as a power source. Whatever Loki's plan, there was sure to be plenty of destruction in his wake. Loki had proven time and again that human lives meant nothing to him. A lot of people could die, and New York City would be ground zero unless he was stopped.
From the pocket of his neatly folded pants, Steve plucked out his wallet and cell phone. While S.H.I.E.L.D. had kept a utility belt on his uniform, most of the pockets were empty of equipment. He placed the wallet into one of those pockets, but hesitated over the phone. Becca was giving her presentation today. Steve didn't know where or when it was taking place, but he was concerned that she could be caught near the tower if things went bad. He opened their messages, the last from Becca the night he'd left New York.
"K text me when you get back then. And good luck! Don't throw out your back or anything ;)"
Although Steve would have preferred to call and impress on her how important it was that she stayed out of harm's way, he didn't have a lot of time. Steve would say this for texting, it was a lot faster.
"Keep away from Stark Tower. If you're not at home, get there as soon as you can. I'll let you know when everything is clear." Steve glanced over the text and added, "Stay safe."
The message refused to send. His phone wasn't getting a signal and with the helicarrier's communications knocked out, Steve had no way of reaching Becca.
Steve shoved his phone into another pocket. There would be a signal once he got close to New York. Loki would wait until then to make his move. He needed his audience. Steve took up his shield and left the room to track down Agent Romanoff. Chances were good that Becca wasn't even close to Stark Tower. She would be all right.
The presentation went well. At least, Becca didn't stumble over anything and no one fell asleep this time. Following the presentation, she had to wade through a series of questions on the advertisements she had presented as everyone wanted to look like a smart and thoughtful employee, although Becca really didn't think it was necessary to be quizzed on font sizes for ten minutes.
Still, Becca felt good as she took her seat. No more presentations to worry about for another six months. She pulled out her phone to check it for no other reason than force of habit. The message light blinked. When Becca saw Steve's name, she smiled. He must have returned, and she couldn't wait to hear what had put Captain America back in action. However, the content of the text made the smile slip from her face.
Why did she have to avoid Stark Tower? Was it going to blow up? Had there been a terrorist threat? If so, wouldn't there be an alert out? Becca itched to text Steve and find out what was going on, but he was obviously in the middle of something important. Having his phone go off and distract him was the last thing he needed.
Furthermore, the specifics could be top secret. Exciting in theory, but the reality was that the cryptic text made Becca both anxious and frustrated. It didn't help that her office was four streets down and one block over from Stark Tower. Becca wasn't sure how far "away" she should be, but this didn't seem far enough. Of all the damn days to have to come in.
Jumping up and leaving was out of the question. If she had the slightest clue what was going on, she would have warned everyone and gotten the hell out. Since she was in the dark, Becca planned to skip out on the rest of the presentations and following meeting by feigning illness.
To her dismay, a coworker hopped out of his seat at the front of the table, and they went straight into another presentation. Becca attempted to listen and take notes, all the while tapping her foot nervously against the carpet and waiting to hear a loud bang or feel the building sway.
Once the coworker had finished, one of the supervisors announced a break. Becca checked her phone, turning the volume back on as she did so. No messages. She promptly dropped the phone and tablet into her work purse and made straight for Alice, the supervisor Becca considered the most easygoing. Alice was sitting on the other end of the table, a graceful woman in her early fifties who always wore a tight bun and thin glasses that gave her the appearance of a stern librarian until one spoke to her.
"Excuse me."
Alice paused in her typing, fingers hovering over laptop keys as she looked up.
"I'm so sorry to do this, but I was wondering if I could be excused. My roommate came down with the flu recently, and I think I might have caught it from her." Becca touched her stomach for effect.
"You do look a little unwell," Alice noted. She gave Becca a sympathetic smile. "Of course you are excused. I will send along an e-mail after the meeting."
Becca sighed in relief. "Thank you so much."
It was difficult for Becca not to sprint out of the conference room. She made herself walk to the elevator. With each stop, her impatience grew. Why did the company she worked for have to be all the way on the twenty-third floor? If she wasn't barricaded in the back of the elevator, Becca would have gotten out and taken the stairs.
Once she was free of the office building, Becca picked up her pace to a near jog, taking a street that would keep her a few blocks away from Stark Tower. It might have been a couple of hours since Steve had texted her, but Becca didn't think for a minute that meant the threat at Stark Tower was over. The chances of Steve not letting her know the coast was clear were pretty slim. He had a startlingly good memory, so forgetting about her was unlikely. If he had gone out of his way to warn her, then he probably would do the same to keep her from fretting over his text. A threat that was taking this long to dispel was cause for serious concern. God, she hoped Steve was all right.
Becca wondered if she should text her friends who worked in this area. She might not be able to explain what was happing, but friends were more trusting than coworkers. A low buzzing accompanied by a ripping sound went unnoticed as it melded with the constant city noises. Before Becca could get to her phone, the person in front of her abruptly stopped, and she crashed into him.
"What the hell!" Becca snapped, nerves transforming her voice into a whip.
The man didn't even turn around. He was staring up at the sky with shock. Around them, others were looking, fingers pointing up. Becca followed their collective gaze, and her mouth gaped.
A pillar of light shot up from the top of Stark Tower, launching straight into the sky. Except the light then disappeared not into blue and clouds, but a massive hole from which streamed a series of objects. Freak weather, was Becca's immediate thought, followed closely by meteorites. Reeling from the shock of what she was seeing, Becca sluggishly remembered that she was supposed to keep away from Stark Tower. Were these bombs? The objects didn't move like bombs or meteorites or anything that resulted from freak weather. They spread out in a pattern that reminded Becca of a swarm of wasps pouring out of a hive, intent on stinging an intruder.
Because she had some kind of warning, Becca recovered before most of the people around her. She ran as fast as her heels would allow, making for the subway. Whatever was happening, when things came from the sky, getting underground was top priority. Maybe she could make it before they shut down the trains. The more distance she put between herself and Stark Tower, the better.
While some people continued to stare up at the sky, others had decided, like Becca, that they needed to get to safety. They dashed into buildings, scattered through the streets, banged on car windows. Some abandoned their cars. Others tore down the street at top speed, rules of the road forgotten. Glass shattered, cars smashed into each other, shouts and screams reverberated in Becca's ears, but none of it prepared her for the bolt of light that crackled past her.
The bolt hit a woman in front of Becca. The woman was propelled forwards and sprawled onto the sidewalk, limp. A man staggered back from the body, while a mother and child trampled right over her without seeming to notice. Becca glanced behind her and froze.
The objects weren't objects. They were people, flying through the air on golden machines and shooting out bolts of light. Every few seconds, one of the people dropped down from the machines and landed on the street to pick off those who fled from them. Struggling to make sense of the scene, Becca's mind supplied her with Star Wars.
"No," Becca whispered to herself.
That was impossible. This was an invading army with advanced technology. That was all. Maybe they were from another country or a secret group in the US. They weren't from another planet, and they definitely weren't…
Becca flinched as one of the machines went roaring overhead. She got a glimpse of a tall body covered in metal-plated armor with a face that protruded impossibly like a skeletal lizard. Alien. It looked alien. Fear leeched through her, gluing her feet to the sidewalk. A mask, a deformity, humans under experimentation. What did it matter? She had to move.
In the few seconds Becca had stood immobile on the sidewalk, the invading force had swollen in numbers, pouring out of the sky in an endless stream. Becca made herself turn around. As much as she wanted to run, her legs seemed to be working against her. She stumbled over a crack, hopping awkwardly to regain her balance. A teenage boy was hit off to her left. He fell against the window of a building, leaving a streak of red on the glass.
Someone leapt on top of Becca as heat sizzled over her. She put out her hands in time to prevent her face from bashing into the cement. A gunshot went off right over her, and Becca shrieked in alarm. The weight on her lower back lifted, and Becca was dragged to her feet.
The woman was short, a few inches over five feet at most. A few stray wrinkles suggested she was in her late thirties. Her straight, brown hair was drawn back in a plain ponytail, and the clothes she wore were unremarkable business casual. Becca noticed all of this only after seeing the gun in the woman's hand.
"This way," the woman instructed with such authority that Becca started forward immediately.
Occasionally firing at an attacker, the woman dashed out into the street. Between the strange weapons and accidents, there were no longer any cars moving. Becca twisted her head back and forth, ready to dive aside from the deadly bolts of light. She wanted to believe this was all a bad dream, but this was far too vivid. The woman crouched over a manhole and yanked the cover open. She gestured into the darkness with the handgun.
"Go." She peered up, raising the gun.
Since Becca's instincts were screaming at her to get out of danger as quickly as possible, she swung onto the ladder without question and descended into the sewers. As soon as there were enough empty rungs, the woman stepped down onto the ladder as well. When she shut the cover, Becca was able to see only a few rays of light coming through sewer grates.
Her feet touched stone and slid, although in what Becca didn't want to know. She held onto the edge of the ladder, legs shaking uncontrollably. Dizziness took hold of her, and between it and the disgusting smell, Becca forced back the urge to vomit.
The woman landed on the ground and clicked on a small flashlight. Around them was a curved tunnel of mixed brick and stone. They stood on a pathway, but most of the ground was covered in stagnant brown water. In the glow of the flashlight, Becca could see that the woman's expression was calm, but calculating. Becca had no clue who this woman was, but there was no way anyone could be this calm without knowing something.
"What… the fuck… is going on?" Becca asked.
The flashlight's beam swept towards her. "Take slower breaths first. You're going to hyperventilate."
Becca gripped the ladder more tightly, but forced in a huge breath, which she took through her mouth to dim the smell of sewage. She blew the breath out in a slow stream. The air did little good. Becca's heart still slammed repeatedly into her ribs.
"Okay. Tell me."
The beam moved away, and as Becca's eyes adjusted she could see the silhouette of the woman. She held remarkably still apart from her rotating hand.
The woman jerked the flashlight towards the tunnel. "I'll tell you while we move."
"No," Becca retorted. She had fixed her stupid breathing, and now she wanted to know. "I am not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the fuck is fucking happening!"
The woman sighed, but, evidently not wanting to be stuck for long, she said, "We're being invaded."
"No shit. By?"
"Aliens."
Becca almost collapsed. The word sounded so much worse out loud than the possibility had in her head. She rubbed a hand over her cheek, willing herself to stay upright.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice unsteady as the ground beneath her felt.
"Agent Greaves." The woman took out a badge. Her flashlight glinted off the silver eagle symbol. "I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Being with a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent didn't change the fact that aliens were invading or that they were in danger, but Becca felt a measure of relief nonetheless. These were the people that Steve was helping. He must have sent Agent Greaves to look for her. Becca counted herself lucky. There was a good chance she would be dead had Agent Greaves not appeared.
"We need to move, "Agent Greaves pressed, tucking the badge into a coat pocket.
"But... what about the other people?" Becca looked up to the outline of the manhole cover. "Shouldn't we try to get more people down here?"
Agent Greaves shook her head. "It would take too much time. We'd become a target."
As awful as it sounded, Becca knew Agent Greaves was right. There were too many aliens, and Agent Greaves only had so many bullets.
"Okay," Becca murmured. "Let's go."
Becca gave up her hold on the ladder, grasping her purse strap in a vice grip in its place. Screams and the screech of weapon fire filtered down through the grates with an occasionally more forceful blast that made the ceiling vibrate, raining down bits of stone and brick. The sounds made Becca queasy. She took an extra step, sticking close to Agent Greaves, and they walked down the path in a direction away from Stark Tower.
"I'm sorry that I snapped at you," Becca apologized. Her voice echoed loudly down the tunnel, but not loudly enough to block out the destruction overhead as much as Becca wished it would. "I'm just kinda freaked out."
"Understandable. You're handling this as well as most people will."
Which Becca knew was not very well at all. "You seem pretty fine."
"Mmmm."
Agent Greaves would have no doubt let the subject drop, but Becca thought that if she didn't keep talking, she might really start freaking out.
"So the government knows about aliens then?" Becca continued. "Is Area 51 legit?"
Although anyone who faced what was happening in New York would be horrified, and rightly so, there were conspiracy theorists and people sitting in bunkers with tin foil hats that must be grimly congratulating themselves on their foresight. Becca hadn't discounted the possibility of aliens existing somewhere in the universe. However, an invasion seemed nothing more than a fantasy until now.
"There is no Area 51," Agent Greaves dismissed. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has only been recently made aware of other beings. There was an incident in New Mexico."
Becca waited, but when it was clear no more details would be forthcoming, she asked, "Well, what happened?"
Agent Greaves flashed a brief, considering look over her shoulder. "I'm afraid I don't have clearance to tell you that."
"Seriously? There are aliens up there." Becca waved at the ceiling even though Agent Greaves was no longer looking. "I know they exist. Everyone knows they exist. Isn't it all going to come out anyway?"
For a minute, Agent Greaves went silent. Becca was afraid that the agent had clammed up completely. She ran a hand up and down her purse strap, deciding what other subject to broach instead.
"In all likelihood, a lot of it will come out," agreed Agent Greaves at length. "That incident is very much at the heart of this invasion. But I can't say any more than that. It's against protocol to divulge information to a civilian, even if you are… close to Captain Rogers."
Apprehension bubbled up in Becca's stomach at the sound of Steve's name. "Is he at the tower?"
"Most likely." Agent Greaves shone her flashlight into a gap in the wall leading to another stretch of sewer.
If Steve was at the tower, he wouldn't be alone. There was no way Iron Man wouldn't be there, and there must be more S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, too. Still, with the sheer number of aliens pouring through the hole above Stark Tower, there was the very real possibility that they would be overwhelmed. Becca took out her phone, biting on her bottom lip. His message popped up on the screen as soon as she unlocked it.
Stay safe.
The last message she had sent was a teasing one. What if it was the last thing she ever sent him? Becca's eyes pricked with tears. She should have sent something nicer. She should have demanded to know where his apartment was so she could run over and give him a hug before he left. She should have gotten up early this morning and had breakfast with Ally. She should have called her parents for once. A tear rolled down Becca's cheek, falling onto the screen.
When Agent Greaves touched her shoulder, Becca jumped. The agent's expression was still full of calm determination, but the edge in her eyes had softened for the moment.
"Don't go down that road," she warned, as though reading Becca's mind. "We haven't lost yet."
Becca nodded. There might be a way to stop the invasion. Once word got out, the Secretary of Defense would probably authorize all kinds of military units to join in the fight. Becca rubbed at her eyes, wiping away tears. She couldn't go to pieces. Like her injury, this was a bad situation to be handled one step at a time. Steve told her to stay safe. The best way to do that was to follow Agent Greaves and not panic.
"All right. I'm okay," stated Becca, more to herself than Agent Greaves.
"Good." Agent Greaves dropped her arm. "We're going to cross here."
Agent Greaves slipped through the gap. Becca hurried along after. She knew consciously that it was stupid to be nervous about rats when they had much bigger problems, but that didn't make her feel better about sitting in the dark when the flashlight was pointed away from her. Rats were huge and nasty, and she would kick one clear across the tunnel if it touched her.
The next tunnel was even wider. There was a space to walk along both sides should someone had the inclination, or the stomach, to cross the filthy water. Not that it would do much good, but Becca was glad she had chosen to wear her suit. If she had to cross through anything, a skirt would be a decidedly worse defense against… whatever was in that water.
The back of her neck ached, and Becca recognized that it had been for awhile. She'd been too distracted for once to give it much thought. It had to be time to take her meds. This was exactly why she brought them everywhere. If she had had been caught without them, she would have been screwed. Becca felt around in her purse to locate the bottles. Fortunately, she didn't need to ask for light. She knew from the shape of the tablets which was Oxy and which was Adderall.
"So what's it like working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Becca asked, automatically covering the unmistakable rattle of medication shifting in a bottle.
"Currently, it stinks."
Becca was so surprised by the joke that she giggled. "Yeah, guess you can't go much lower."
"No. Not much lower than this," said Agent Greaves dryly. "This is shit."
Becca smiled, popping the tablets into her mouth. She took out a tiny water bottle and swallowed some water with the tablets. Agent Greaves was all right.
"What's it really like?"
Agent Greaves seemed to consider the question. "Interesting."
"I bet." Becca imagined S.H.I.E.L.D. to be an even more covert version of the FBI. "Do you have, like, a specialty or something? Weapons? Kicking ass?"
Agent Greaves laughed. "I'm a field agent, so I suppose I specialize in both weapons and kicking ass."
"Very cool. I have no experience in either, but I think learning a bit of self-defense when this is all over might be a good call." Should anything ever happen to her, Becca didn't want to freeze up again. "Possibly also learning how to shoot a gun. Possibly also buying a gun."
"That may be wise," Agent Greaves approved. She jerked her flashlight towards the ceiling as grime cascaded down in the wake of a deafening roar. Becca eyed the ceiling herself. What make a sound like that? "I'm sure Captain Rogers will be very helpful in those areas."
"Um… yeah."
Of course, it made sense that Becca would go to Steve, but she didn't love the idea of looking like a hopeless case once he figured out that she didn't have the slightest clue how to throw a punch. She was thinking more along the lines of taking a class where there would be people as clueless as she was or, better yet, learning from YouTube in the privacy of her apartment where she wouldn't look weak to anyone.
A wave of faint detonations went off above, which would have meant nothing to Becca and Agent Greaves had it not been followed by an explosion of sound. In the beam of the flashlight that swiveled over her head, Becca could see that the far end of the tunnel behind them was collapsing as something massive, gold, and grey ripped through the street above. Whatever that something was, it was coming closer.
"Run!" Agent Greaves yelled, but this time Becca was already running.
They pelted down the stone path. Agent Greaves was in the lead and pulling farther ahead with every step. Becca would have taken off her heels, but the floor was slick. Besides, that would have meant stopping. Fear fueled her, pushing her legs to their limit. Behind them, bricks rained down. Water and refuse overcame them in a wave that rose up around Becca's ankles. She tripped at the weight of it, but caught herself against the wall. Becca looked back as she ran.
The thing had stopped moving, its momentum halted by the concrete. Light poured in around it from the broken road, but that gave Becca no more idea of what the thing was. What she did recognize were the figures splashing through the water around it. The aliens appeared to be climbing over the thing to get back to the surface.
Becca skidded to a stop. She held very still and breathed as quietly as she could. The tunnel seemed to have settled and was no longer caving in. If she didn't make a sound, the aliens would go away. Agent Greave must have had the same thought because Becca no longer heard her nor saw the beam of the flashlight. She was too scared to let the aliens out of her sight to find out for certain.
Whether the thing was metal or flesh or both, it made for a tough climb. Becca counted seven aliens as they skittered over the thing. They chattered at each other with increasing volume as they failed to scale their way successfully up to join their comrades.
A hand curved over Becca's mouth. Becca twitched and just managed to swallow her scream. Agent Greaves tugged lightly at Becca's arm, and Becca got the message. They had to keep moving. It was only a matter of time before the aliens tried the tunnel. Slowly, Becca turned her back on the aliens and waded through the knee-deep water. She tried not to think about the aliens or what was in the water. She concentrated on an image of her cozy apartment. She was going to survive to get back to that apartment.
"There's a split here," whispered Agent Greaves through the dark. "We're going left."
Becca felt her way around the corner. A scream that needed no translation split through the tunnel. The aliens were moving. Becca and Agent Greaves picked up their pace, hidden under the splashes and shrill sounds the aliens were making.
Abruptly, Becca slammed into Agent Greaves so hard that the breath was knocked from her. She staggered back a step.
"Why'd you stop?" she hissed.
"There's a grate."
"What?" The short tunnel was indeed a dead end. Becca reached out and touched the grate in front of her. "Shit."
Agent Greaves said nothing. They had to go back into the tunnel, which meant they were definitely going to be seen. Those aliens looked big. Becca wasn't going to outrun them, especially not in water. Facing down one of those things was basically suicidal. Becca shivered.
"Listen to me." Although barely speaking at a whisper, Agent Greaves' voice held strong as metal. "Take the flashlight." She shoved the flashlight at Becca, who gripped it like a talisman. "We're going to go back. When we reach the lip of the tunnel, you're going to run as fast as you can. The first turnoff you see, you take it. I'll cover you."
"Okay," Becca squeaked.
After allowing Agent Greaves past, Becca backtracked to the end of the short tunnel. She expected to hear her heart hammering in her ears, but all she could hear was the splashing and chittering coming closer. The alien weapons seemed to emit a soft light even when they weren't being fired because a blue-tinged glow flashed on the walls.
"Ready?"
Becca felt more ready to puke than run. The back of her neck was still throbbing since the Oxy had yet to kick in.
"Ready."
Agent Greaves swung out into the larger tunnel and fired three shots in rapid succession. Becca ran. At the sound of a several bolts, she dodged. One flew right by her elbow. She plunged through the water with weapon fire shoving her forward. A bolt grazed by her hip, so close that the heat made Becca skid to get out of the way. She slipped, falling sideways and soaking the left half of her body. Her purse fell off as Becca scrambled to her feet, but she left it and continued her desperate sprint, expecting any moment to feel a bolt thud into her.
As the glow faded, Becca was losing her ability to see. She clicked on the flashlight, waving it frantically in search of an escape. The light danced across the muck-caked walls like a frenzied firefly. There had to be a turnoff close by. There had to be.
There! The tunnel branched off to the left again. Becca hurtled around the corner and almost cried in relief when she saw that it wasn't another dead end. They had a chance! If Agent Greaves shot all the aliens, they could make it out and get away.
Then, Becca realized that she couldn't hear Agent Greaves. She stopped. There was no sound at all, not even splashing. Had they all killed each other? Or had the aliens gone quiet hoping to lure her out?
Becca hesitated. This was twice that Agent Greaves had saved her life. She could be injured and alone. Maybe she just needed someone to help her walk. Becca took another step in the direction she had been running, but looked back over her shoulder. At least she could take a quick peek. She owed the agent that much. Becca waded back to the edge of the tunnel and peered around the corner.
The aliens must have surrounded Agent Greaves because she was pressed back against the wall. Either she had run out of bullets or lost her gun. The aliens had not. There were two left; both trained massive gold, glowing weapons at her. The weapons had a shape similar to a large water gun, but with a lethally effective shot.
Becca assessed the aliens. She estimated that they were both standing near where the water-covered walkway dropped off. If she distracted them, Agent Greaves had a chance to take them down. Becca sucked in a breath. This had better be worth it or else she'd blow her cover for nothing.
"Hey!" Becca bellowed.
It worked. The aliens both looked towards her. Agent Greaves was not so easily distracted. She leapt on them. All three went into the water with an echoing splash. They resurfaced, struggling with each other in a tangle of limbs. Becca eyes dropped to a golden gun. She didn't even know if she could use it. Her gaze darted between the gun and the fight.
"Shit." Becca ran towards the gun, spraying water everywhere. "Shit. Shit. Shit." This was the stupidest goddamn thing she had done in her entire life.
Agent Greaves got her legs around one of the aliens, but the other pulled her top half down and under. Becca could see that her first assessment of the aliens as skeletal lizards hadn't been wholly off, if those lizards were tall and had grayish-purple skin, yellow eyes, and an affinity for wearing armor. Agent Greaves bobbed back to the surface, gasping. She yanked the helmet off of the alien holding her leg and smashed it into the face of the other.
Becca reached the gun. There were two more bodies floating there, one with another gun and one with a long stick-like weapon ending in a small blade. Becca shoved the flashlight into her pocket and snatched up the gun, holding it in the same way the aliens had, but she couldn't find a trigger. She hurriedly felt around for where she thought a trigger should be, but there was nothing there. She screeched in frustration and pitched the gun at the alien with the helmet, who currently had its hands around Agent Greaves' throat.
The gun smacked into the back of the alien's head. The alien turned, agitated. Agent Greaves pivoted and grabbed the gun, which was miraculously floating on top of the water despite its heavy appearance. She used it to hit the alien with so much force that its neck made a cracking sound. It fell back and floated, lifeless. She turned and stared straight down the muzzle of another gun. The helmetless alien had recovered its weapon.
Becca swore that time slowed, or maybe it was that everyone held still for a split second. Shock melted to acceptance in Agent Greaves' eyes. Becca reached forward, knowing full well there was nothing she could do but her body reacted of its own accord.
The alien shot Agent Greaves point blank. Her face caved, sizzling like fried meat.
Becca had never been able to stomach much violence. Gory movies or pictures of serious wounds made her queasy if she looked too long. But watching Agent Greaves' face fold onto itself with skin blistering and bits of blood and tissue splattering out didn't sicken Becca. It filled her with a flash of blinding rage.
As the alien began to spin towards her, Becca swept up the stick weapon. It was made of metal and filled the width of her hand. Along one edge the metal was cut into a blade over what might have been a gun barrel. She hefted the weight and swung it like a baseball bat. The end smacked into side of the alien's head. The bolt from the alien's gun went wide, but Becca hardly noticed. She shifted her stance and brought the weapon back in the other direction, catching the alien on the back of its unprotected skull. The alien lurched and dropped its gun.
Becca hit it again and again, anger swelling through her and tunneling her vision. Purple gunk oozed up from welts and dents as the alien's skull splintered, but Becca kept on hitting. The alien let out a scream of mindless fury that went on, echoing down the tunnel and reverberating back as though a hoard of inhuman beings sought to tear the bricks apart with their voices alone.
When the alien floated in the water with its head a pulpy mess, Becca found out that she was the one screaming. She dropped the weapon and staggered away with a groan. Her back hit the wall, and Becca collapsed forward on her hands and knees. She vomited into the water. Tears streaked down her face as the pain set in. She looked up, saw the mutilated alien bobbing with the remaining force of her blows, and vomited again. How could she have done that? Becca stared down at her trembling reflection. She gagged, but there was nothing left to come up.
From the chaos above the torn open tunnel, Becca knew that the battle was not yet over. She had to get up. She attempted to stand and failed. Only by using the wall for support was she able to get to her feet. Becca leaned against the brick, gasping as the world lurched. She couldn't stay here; more of the aliens might come down.
Becca couldn't make herself touch the stick again, but she could take a gun. She would throw it again if she had to. Having a weapon was better than not having one. Her hands were slick with blood, torn open from using the stick weapon. It made picking up the gun difficult, but she finally managed. Becca took out the flashlight, holding it under the gun cradled in her arms. She tried to walk forward, but a single step made her pitch dizzily.
During her car accident, Becca had gone into shock, so she was familiar with the sensation. However, unlike with a car accident, no one was on their way to help her. Becca tripped sideways, but she was able to run into the wall. She was going to use it to guide her, and she was going to walk. She was not going to allow herself to sit until she was far away from this place.
Becca ventured further into the sewers clutching an alien gun and a S.H.I.E.L.D. flashlight, walking away from the sounds of movement echoing from the rip in the tunnel.
Author's Note:
Cliffhangerrrrrrrrr!
This chapter is the first in an Avengers mini-arc I have planned. Yes, it's going to be a traumatic experience for Becca and Steve, as you've probably noticed. How will they be on the other side? Only I know. Mwahahaha.
While I don't own Avengers, Agent Greaves is mine mine mine.
Thanks forever and always to the readers and reviewers.