Chapter 29
-Emma-
"Emma, I know where Hebert's been," Sophia blurted out as soon as she plopped down in my bedroom chair.
"Not even a hello?" I asked her. "And what's so important about that? She been hoeing around for the Merchants?"
"Saw the bit on PHO about a new cape trashing the Nazis at the Docks yesterday?" she asked me.
"Yeah." Then I realized what she was angling for. "No. You're joking. There's no way Hebert of all people is a cape."
"Absolutely is. Her father recognized her." She paused. "Fuck, now I'm thinking that I might've run into her too. I'm not sure."
"What do you mean, not sure? Can't confuse that ugly mug for anyone else…"
"It's not that, it's… Look, it's her power."
"Something lame and disgusting, like her?" I said. She wouldn't get anything good. Hell, she didn't deserve powers at all.
...Right?
"Remember Nice Guy? Of the Nine?"
My heart skipped a beat. "Yes…?"
"Imagine him on all the LSD, and that's about what she is. Walked right up to the dork squad after beating the Nazis up and they didn't even realize it."
I tried to imagine that power. You could walk right up to someone in broad daylight and cut their throat open, it wouldn't matter how strong you are—
"Emma? Emma, breathe!" I heard. I looked up to see a concerned look on Sophia's face, a rare sight. It took me a few moments to realize I was hyperventilating.
Deep breaths, Emma, deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In…
I started giggling hysterically. Oh, fuck…
When Monday rolled over, I was in bad enough shape that I doubted my makeup could hide the lack of sleep. Not everyone at school noticed, but I was sure a few did. At least they didn't seem to dare gossip in front of me, especially as Sophia found her way to my side.
"Well, you look like shit," she told me once we were out of the crowd.
"I'm fine," I brushed her off. "Just not enough sleep."
"If you say so," she shrugged. She didn't seem particularly convinced. We got to class.
Ten minutes before the end of class, Sophia's phone vibrated. The PRT one. She excused herself and got out of the classroom. I got a text from her a few minutes later.
the two losers up to sth. ttyl
Well, I could handle a few classes without Sophia. Hearing about them getting their asses kicked afterwards would do wonders for my mood later, too.
Sophia called in after the next lesson. She'd be back during the break, after showing the two nerds their place. I went out to one of the less used parts of the school to meet her, on the way to the fake janitor's closet that served as a stash.
I turned a corner in the hallway and saw a tall, thin girl with a mane of dark hair casually walking past Taylor's locker. Unthinking, I ducked around the corner.
She's here. She's here she's here she'sheresheshere…
Keep calm. She didn't see you. Breathe.
I took a few deep breaths, looking down. The floor was slightly cleaner here than usual for Winslow, after the deep scrub it got after Hebert had taken a walk past while dripping filth from the locker.
She'll go here. She went here the last time.
I tried to listen, but I couldn't hear anything except my heart beating. She could probably hear it too.
I ran.
"These prove nothing," Dad told the agent sitting across the table from us.
The agent across the table from us kept a blank, polite smile as she put the scans of Taylor's journal back into the folder she'd pulled them from.
"On their own, no," she admitted. "But we have already confiscated Miss Hess's phone"— I mentally breathed a sigh of relief about convincing her to delete everything incriminating from it — "and Miss Clements was more than happy to turn hers over."
Madison cleaned her phone out too. Or… did she?
"And yes, she did mention how you planned to leave her holding the bag. So whether or not you believe it, we have the evidence to take this to court." She clasped her hands and leaned forward, looking at my father.
"Fortunately for you, we don't want this to become any more of a public scandal than it already has. The PRT is willing to offer a plea deal. Miss Barnes would go to juvenile detention until her eighteenth birthday, but would leave it with a clear record. And you, Mr. Barnes, would have to pay a hefty fine, but that would be the end of it. Otherwise, there's possible grounds to have her tried as an adult with a far harsher sentence, and while we may not have solid criminal charges in your case, Mr. Barnes, the court of public opinion will not be in your favor should this entire situation garner any more media attention than it already has, which is quite likely considering the primary victim has disappeared in a manner more fit for an urban legend. I would not be surprised if your employers were to try and distance themselves from the scandal. Which is it going to be?"
No, Dad. You wouldn't. You can fix this—
"I'll… have to think about this," Dad answered. "This isn't a decision to be made lightly."
"Indeed," the agent agreed. "But don't take too long. You may go, but we'll be in touch. Don't leave the city."
We left. As soon as the office was out of earshot, I turned towards Dad.
"Dad, you can't seriously be thinking—"
"Shush, baby," he admonished me, nodding in the direction of a nearby camera. "We'll talk in the car."
I followed him out to the parking lot, fuming quietly. For the PRT to take Taylor's side, to treat me and Sophia like criminals for something so insignificant…
"You can't do this, Dad," I told him. "There has to be something, they can't just…"
"With that evidence? They might be able to," he told me. "Dammit, Emma! When you came back from school sick last week, I thought you were scared because of what happened to Taylor! When we spoke to Danny after she disappeared, you were right there with us when you're the reason she ran away! Why, why would you do this?"
I opened my mouth, looking for an answer he'd accept. I couldn't find one.
After a few of the longest minutes in my life, he shook his head and started the engine.
I jumped out of bed, jolted out of sleep by a feeling of something being deeply wrong. Nothing I could see was out of place, but I just knew she was out there, under the pouring rain. I stared at the window.
"I'm not— I'm not afraid of you," I whispered into the night. It didn't sound very convincing. The night remained indifferent, proving my point for me.
There was no response. I continued staring. Nothing.
I'd almost calmed down when something scraped against the window. I couldn't help it. I screamed.
Mom was in my room in ten seconds flat, flipping the light switch on her way in. "What's wrong?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine, just a nightmare," I told her, keeping an eye on the once again empty window. Not that I could see much out of it after having the lights flicked on like that.
After a handful of seconds, my eyes adjusted enough to see a branch swinging a hair away from the window. Must've scraped the window after a stronger gust. Yes, that's it.
It was probably the same branch me and Taylor would swing on years ago.
Mom looked at me, concern clear on her face.
"It's okay," I told her. "Go back to sleep."
She left. I settled back into my bed. Stupid. Getting scared of a lightning storm and a tree branch. You're stronger than this.
Sleep didn't come easy for the rest of that night. When my phone's alarm rang, I was still drop-dead tired. Blearily, I looked out the window at the rising sun. There was a red smudge on the window, a corner that stayed dry during the rain due thanks to one of the tree's branches. I got up for a closer look. Are those… letters?
I had to read right-to-left, but it wasn't difficult to figure out. The crimson marks spelled out "WHY?"
I grabbed some wet wipes, worked the window open and cleaned away the message. Only partway through did I realize it was actually lipstick, not… what I'd first thought it would be.
"Hey," I heard Sophia's voice behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Jesus fuck, Soph, don't do that!" I hissed back. "You know you're not supposed to be here! What if my parents hear?"
Oh, I knew exactly what if. Dad had been clear enough about not wanting me to ever talk to Sophia again. Not that that would be a concern for long, with both of us due for a trip to separate juvies soon enough.
"Don't worry, won't stay long," Sophia said, taking her usual chair. "Been a while, huh?"
"No kidding," I said, plopping back on my bed. "If only Taylor hadn't squealed…"
"I wouldn't be stuck running around with this damn thing on my leg like a criminal while half the city cheers the fucking Undersiders," she finished for me, pointing at a tracker around her ankle. She stood up again and started pacing around the room, quietly fuming.
"So unfair," I agreed. Then something clicked. "Wait, wouldn't it tell them you were here? Won't you get in trouble? Well, more of it," I corrected myself.
"No," she said, sitting down next to me and leaning forward. One of her legs pressed up to mine. She took a deep breath. "Sorry about this, Emma."
While I was still trying to process these words, she went shadow, and put her foot inside mine.
"Don't wiggle now," she said. "Or we're both losing a leg."
I watched her slowly move her leg out of mine, holding a palm in one end of the tracker. When she unphased, both our legs were constricted tightly by the tracker.
"Sophia, what—"
She shushed me, staring at the thing. It did not seem to react. She let out a sigh of relief, and turned to shadow again. The tracker snapped onto my leg painfully, going back to a proper fit. Sophia bit her fist, holding back a scream.
"I'm done. I'm not putting up with these idiots anymore," she said after her breathing evened out, standing up gingerly. "Going to find these Undersider bastards, put them down like I should've long ago, then get out of the city. Gotta be somewhere out there I can get shit done without these PRT idiots interfering."
Sophia paused in front of the window.
"Goodbye, Emma," she said, and phased out through it.
I lowered my hand - when did I reach out to her? - and let my head sink into my arms. The room was quiet. She wasn't coming back.
She isn't coming back.
I don't know how long I sat there, but something drew my attention. Or the lack of something, anyway. The tracker still hung around my ankle, completely inert. No sign of an alarm.
They'd be looking for Sophia, not me, if this thing went off, I realized. I snuck downstairs, where Mom and Dad were watching some romcom, backs fortunately turned to the hallway. I got into the kitchen, and found a pair of bolt cutters. My heart nearly stopped when the drawer creaked, but it was just my luck that the guy on TV had just made his proposal, and the girl's happy squeal drowned out the noise. Not much of the movie left then, probably, I realized and made my way back up as quickly as I could.
Okay, now what… if I cut it inside the house, that will be too hard to explain. Need to get away first. I found a few things I'd need - pepper spray Dad had given me, a proper coat, an old first aid kit from happier days, a backpack to carry everything in. I packed everything, hid it under the bed, and got under the covers to hide the tracker with enough time to spare before Mom came by to say goodnight.
I waited for another half an hour after that, to make sure the house was properly quiet, got out of bed, slipped into more suitable clothes, grabbed the backpack and made my way out of the house, dodging the creaky spots with practiced ease.
When the house disappeared around the corner, I knew there would be no going back.
Don't leave me, Sophia. Please. I won't let you.
Now where the hell are you?
I ducked around the corner as I heard shouting ahead.
"That's not the price we agreed on!" someone declared angrily.
Dammit, dammit, dammit. And so close, too. It was just one corner to go to the abandoned house where Sophia kept a stash… well, the one closest to the Docks, anyway. She'd told me the PRT suspected their base was somewhere in there, so it stood to reason that that was where she'd choose her base. The PRT wouldn't find her here, unless the tracker somehow led them here after being cut off a couple neighborhoods away from my house, in the entirely opposite direction from the Docks.
I took a deep breath. There should be an alley I could use to get to the back door… just needed to not get seen by whoever was ahead. Only crazy people would be out at this hour of the night. I peeked around the corner, and saw two men. One had the other pressed against the wall. There might've been something shiny on the ground near them, but I didn't linger to gawk - as soon as I was certain they were good and distracted, I scurried across the street, hopping a fence to land in an abandoned yard.
"No, I don't care how many people are found passed out and what that does to demand, you are not jacking up the price!"
I made my way across the yard, keeping low to the ground. Now just to hop this last fence and… there was the alley. Well, not the alley. Haven't been back there in a very long time. Now a straight shot to that particular house, ignoring the now less distinct shouting back in the alley, and I found myself at the back of the house, easily pulling open the long-broken door. I went upstairs, carefully listening for any sign of Sophia - or a squatter - both unnerved and grateful for how creaky the floor has been here lately. Nobody was going to sneak up on me here, but if there was someone here sitting very quietly, they definitely knew I was here.
I made my way up the stairs to the second floor. The particularly unpleasant bout of creaking made me wince, but it was the only way up without Sophia's power. I paused, and took another step. Then another. Then another—
With an ear-splitting noise, the stairs gave way. Everything swayed, and I found myself falling through the stairs. I hit the floor beneath, feeling splinters drive into my legs and side. I screamed until I ran out of breath.
Fuck. Why? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?
I tried getting up. My… everything… hurt, and I collapsed again.
Well, if my legs still hurt, at least I didn't break my back?
It was a faint hope, especially as I slowly became aware of a sticky warmth spreading around my body. I breathed in the metallic scent. Oh, no…
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
I was so keenly aware of my heart beating now. Every beat pushing blood I needed, needed to live, out of me.
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
Sophia, please, be here. You had to hear the racket. You have to be here. Sophia, please…
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
Fuck, I'd take the PRT at this point, but the tracker was miles away now. Stupid, so stupid, what did you think you were going to accomplish…
Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
A shadow fell over me, obscuring the lone street light shining in through the window.
"S- Sophia…" I looked up. "Please—"
It wasn't Sophia.
I'd recognize those dark curls and that mile-wide mouth anywhere. The glasses were gone, though. And the faint amber glow in her eyes was new.
"Well, congratulations, Taylor," I weakly moaned. "You wanted this for a long time, didn't you? And your hands are still clean."
It was… funny, really. I was so worried she'd come back to get her revenge for everything, and here I was, bleeding to death due to rotten fucking wood.
"So many would scream to see you bleed," she whispered, looking at me with… pity? "So many would say it is human, to keep the wheel of violence turning."
"...What?"
Perhaps I'd already bled too much, but she made no fucking sense. I recalled Sophia's description.
Fuck, it's cold this time of night…
"'Twas only blood, that did not make us sisters, once. Do you remember?"
"It was… It was childish," I breathed out. "I didn't… Didn't see how you were…"
"Was I what? Weak? Human? What matters more in the end, when the dancers leave the stage?"
"What… fucking… dancers?"
Taylor just shook her head. "It is of no consequence. Not yet. We shall live to see the dance end, I hope… and not, perhaps, the end the last dancer has in mind." She raised her wrist to her mouth.
"Maybe you're gonna, but I… I..."
I couldn't finish it. I don't want to die. But I didn't get to say anything. Her wrist was in my face, and something dripped into my mouth. Something cold. Something sticky. Something rusty.
Something warm.
Something sweet. So, so sweet…
I drank greedily, biting down just to get a little bit more of that delicious nectar… until a hand gripped me and forced my jaw open.
"Enough. I am not a can of fizz, to be drunk dry on a hot summer day," Taylor, my beautiful Taylor, said. I leaned into her hand, still resting on the side of my head. Vaguely, I recognized I wasn't supposed to be leaning, I was supposed to be on the ground, but… I wasn't. I was standing, I wasn't bleeding to death, I was alive, more alive than I'd ever been. I could see Taylor's face clearly, even in the dim light, her pale skin, her red lips, every strand of her hair.
I jumped forward, trying to wrap her in a hug, but she overpowered me still, keeping my arms pinned to my sides. My Taylor shook her head. "No," she said. "That honey has had its share of tar. Perhaps we can be sisters again - bound in blood this time - but… never this."
She looked embarrassed. Taylor was embarrassed. Of me. No, don't be, please!
"Let us fly," she said. "Let us find you a home that will not seek to kill us."
Taylor took me by the hand, and we set off into the waiting night. Our night.