CHAPTER 1 - Where I've Never Been
The children had made a wrong turn somewhere. Shadows fell away, lost in the brightness of a search light. The beam glided back and forth, and the children were center stage, on a dock without cover, with no darkness to hide in.
Behind them, water. No buildings to climb, no walls to scurry over. The children thought, swim for it, then thought, no, she can't keep up. Not as fast in the water. She needs land under her feet to make a clean getaway.
Before them, between them and freedom, six - no, seven men. Large, all towering high, and armed. Four with knives, two with handguns, one seems unarmed, but they remembered their fathers words. Never trust appearances.
The men slowed as they approached, uncertainty making them hesitate. One stepped forward. The leader? "What the hell are you supposed to be?" The men lowered their arms. They understood now, these were kids. Weird looking kids, but just kids. The men must have thought, this'll be a piece of cake.
The children didn't answer. Exchanged looks. A moment of silent communication. A raised brow. A crooked smile. The children had a plan of action.
"It ain't Halloween." The big guy in front tucked his gun in the back of his pants. Dumb move. Underestimated them. "What kind of costumes -"
"Sorry." The oldest child, the eldest boy, spoke up. Soft voice, small smile. "We're not wearing costumes."
He charged. The other four followed him. Well trained.
The men regretted thinking this was a joke.
Swords slashing, coming down hard on the remaining firearm, before the man holding it could get his finger on the trigger.
The rest was easy. Knives were blocked, punches ducked. They returned blows, weapons sheathed, even the swords now that the gun was out of play. They took damage. You couldn't go unarmed to a knife fight and not take cuts. She dodged and bounced like a jumping jack. She lacked the natural armor of the other four, so had to be creative to stay out of the knives' range, and the big guys were aiming at her, thinking her the easiest target.
They took exception to these thugs targeting their sister.
A knife thrust hard, should have been able to kill the victim, a straight shot to the liver. Instead, the blade crumpled. The guy holding it swore loudly and dropped the now useless weapon.
Fist to his face. He fell.
Block. Dodge. Punch. These were kids? They hit harder than most men! And the girl might as well be a flea on a dog's hide, fast and furious. She couldn't land as hard a blow as her brothers, but all she had to do was let them wear themselves down chasing her.
Her brothers took the men down for her.
One man went down like a tree in a forest. Now the girl pounced, not with fists, but with tightly wound cord, metal/plastic/rope. He fell on his face; she planted her foot on the back of his neck, caught his arm in a loop of the zip-cord. Had him hogtied in seconds.
The boys brought the men down, disarmed them, tripped them, laid them out prone. They found the zip-cord impossible to unwind, impossible to break. It didn't bite into the skin like regular metal cord would, but couldn't be snapped, except by the clever little device on the girl's belt that nicked it off at whatever length she chose.
Seven men, tied and helpless, hollering loudly, cursing. Asking what the fuck, what the hell?
A slap of duct tape across the lips. Not a perfect gag, but it would keep them quite long enough for the kids to get back to the shadows.
The youngest boy laughed, wiped blood and sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Welp, that was fun!"
"Yeah, let's not do that again," middle-kid said dryly.
"Bye, guys!" the girl sang. Red hair, sticky and wet with sweat.
They ran. The men struggled to sit up, to get free, trying to see which way the children went.
The kids fled the light. Found the shadows. Became the shadows. It wasn't just a technique. Not just the girl's night-time camouflage outfit blending in the dark. One moment the kids were there, three-dimensional objects in space. The next moment?
They might as well have melted like snow in July.
All that remained was an echo of laughter. The thrum of feet on the pier. The whip of wind flowing around them.
The big guy with the gun in the back of his pants, that he couldn't even get to with his arms tightly wound to his body, stared at the empty space where they'd been a moment before, and wondered if he hadn't just seen his first ghosts.
April loved summer nights.
The biggest problem with New York City was that all the stars in the night sky weren't visible. There was far too much light pollution from the skyscrapers, and the compact city growing ever upward. April found the lack of starlight disappointing, but the illuminated skyline almost made up for it.
Instead of focusing on the vanished Milky Way, she trained her camera on Billionair's Row. The buildings had a sort of stark beauty she liked, though if asked, she would admit the older, less minimalistic buildings were her favorite.
"Yer gonna lose it if y'aint careful."
Raph stood beside her on the edge of the XYZ building, watching her adjust the focus. He had a bad cut from where one of the gang members had caught him with the tip of a knife blade, but aside from that, he'd done a good job coming out unscathed.
The camera flashed. She advanced the film and quickly took two more pictures. "I haven't dropped it yet," she said without looking at him.
Raph watched April lean precariously out on the edge and grabbed her belt, arm extending as he let her swing out as far as she could go. She needed to get the perfect angle for this picture. One more shot, and she let Raphael haul her back onto the roof properly.
The other three sat in the center of the roof, looking each other over for injuries. Michelangelo had the first aid kit he wore on the back of his belt out, rubbing something April guessed was antiseptic over a bad wound on Leonardo's shoulder, then pressed a pad of gauze to it before taping it down. He completed the wound care by taping a Scooby-Doo band-aid on top of the dressing.
Leonardo looked at Mike's handiwork with no little amusement.
Donatello had several nasty slashes on the inside of his elbow. Mike cleaned them up and graced him with Spongebob, which Donnie flaunted.
April flopped down dramatically. "It's horrible! I'm exhausted! I'm completely worn out, and I must be near death!" She sprawled beside Mike like a dying woman begging for a drop of water.
Mike held up a band-aid. "I'm out of Barbie."
"Aw, come on!"
"I've got Scooby for you."
"I'm crushed! Crushed!"
Leo mock-frowned. "What's wrong with Scooby? I got Scooby."
She flung the back of her hand over her eyes, trying to look like a tragic figure from a Renaissance painting, and only managed to look like a gangly kid who hadn't grown into her feet yet. "I'm a damsel. A princess. A goddess! I deserve Barbie on my band-aid."
Mike started tucking it back in the first aid kit. "Well, since you didn't actually get hurt, and you only want Barbie -"
April thrust a pristine arm out at him. "Gimme Scooby."
He found a random spot on her arm where she could show it off nicely and stuck the bandaid on her.
Raphael rolled his eyes and started cleaning up his own cheek, preferring to tend his own wounds, rather than have Mike do it. "I swear ta God yer both five."
"Seven," April corrected. "I don't believe in Santa Claus."
At fourteen, she had the awkward grace of a well-trained ballerina with too much leg and not enough hip or bust.
Her brothers were more well-proportioned, though one could tell by looking at them that they were going to get a lot taller, and sooner rather than later. Well, if one could look at them without screaming in panic. Or attacking. Not too many people had ever seen them, but on the handful of occasions they were noticed, attacking and screaming were the default actions of whoever looked at them.
They were giant turtles.
And they didn't look like turtles should have looked, either. They looked like people that had been put together with turtle parts, which was not how they should have looked when they started getting bigger. April's daddy had said as much.
Leonardo was tall, about 5'9", and getting taller. April was slightly displeased with this situation, because it meant he would be able to pick her up and dangle her upside down soon, which he had threatened the last time she'd stolen the last pudding pop from him, and the bossy bastard might just do it, too. He carried his swords strapped to his back, extra zip-cord in his belt, and rolls of film April begged him to hold for her when she couldn't fit them in her own belt pouch. She considered him the perfect accessory - a purse that didn't get cluttered because he'd refuse to carry too much for her. At eighteen, he was the oldest son, and he made sure everyone knew it, especially when their dad wasn't around. April loved him anyway. Bossy bastard.
With his cheek cleaned up, Raphael dropped to a crouch beside April, holding out his uninjured arm. "I want Pokemon," he said. Mike stuck his tongue out, but found a Pickachu bandage and slapped it on Raph's forearm.
Raph was sixteen but stood two inches taller than Leo. He was a little self-conscious of his big feet that their father kept assuring him he would grow into. He wasn't always the easiest person to get along with, naturally rebelling every time Leo pretended to be an adult. Sometimes he lost his temper, but April found ignoring him until he got out of his funk the best way to deal with his drama. Most of the time, Raph was fun to be around, and he usually just indulged her in whatever she wanted to do. Raph carried a pair of sai tucked in his belt.
Michaelangelo, at fifteen, was the baby of the boys, and at 5'6" was still quite a bit taller than April. It was actually Mike's fault they'd gotten lost and had run into those bums. Their father had shooed them out of the house with express orders not to come home before midnight, but not after two AM. They still had time to kill, and Mike had come up with a great idea for keeping busy, but the boy couldn't find his own way out of a paper bag if he had a compass and a map. He always hauled around the first-aid kit, along with a pair of nunchaku and a bag he carried to hold whatever cool things he happened to find on their nights out. Last count, he had two sea shells, a dirty magazine, and a police-style whistle, but April didn't know if he'd added to his collection since they left home.
Before she could poke her nose in Mike's stuff, Donatello scooted beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. "Did you get the pictures you wanted?"
"Yep!" She squirmed in his grip, getting loose and popping the film out of the camera. She thrust the roll at him for him to take. Donnie took it, freeing up her hands to reload the camera. "I wanna get some more though, before we head back."
Don tucked the film away in his belt for her. "Digital cameras don't need film," he teased. April planned on Donnie spending his Saturday morning developing the film for her. She was still learning how to do it on her own, but until she was more sure of herself, she wanted Don's skillful hands at work on her pictures.
"Film looks better," she said, not looking up. She wound the camera ahead until it was ready to start a new series of photos.
Leo was absently wrapping his toes up in Superman bandaids. "Digital's cheaper," he said.
April rolled her eyes. "Mister Adult."
Don was seventeen, second-oldest, but he never talked down to April the way Leo did sometimes. He might pick on her love of "old-fashioned" things, but Don had a way of taking her seriously that Leo lacked.
Mike smacked Leo's hand and took back the still-wrapped band-aids before their fearless leader could waste the rest of them. "Hey." He looked around, squinting in the darkness to make out the skyline. "I think I know where we're at now."
"Uh-oh," Don breathed, and Raph snorted, "Right."
"No, really, I do! Look, if we head two blocks west, four blocks south, the store's right there." Mike pointed as if there were a building just beyond his fingertip. "We can be there in five minutes tops. Tops!"
"Isn't that what he said an hour ago?" Don asked Leo lightly.
"You mean, right before we got jumped? Yes, I seem to recall -"
"I'm serious this time!" Mike hopped to his feet. "Come on, it's like, ten-to-midnight, and he probably isn't expecting us until about one! We got time. Unless you want to go home early and go right to bed."
Raphael snorted. "Oh, hell no. C'mon, it's better than bein' stuck inside."
Don rolled his eyes, but stood up with the other boys, throwing his vote with Mike. Leo blew a sigh out his nose and shook his head lightly. "We're going to get in serious trouble."
"We're not!" Mike protested. "Swear to God, no alarm system. We could walk right in and nobody would know."
Leo poked April in the side where she lay serpentine on the roof. "Come on. I can see I'm not going to win this one."
April mock-swooned and covered her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm too heavy to walk. Carry me!"
Raph said, "Bye," and took off across the rooftops. Leo shrugged and followed. Mike had the bad grace to wave at her before giving chase.
"Hey!" She jumped to her feet, stomping one foot. "Some superheroes they are! They just left me here!"
"Yep." Donnie patted her shoulder and proceeded to leave April behind as well.
Cheeky bastards, all of them, she thought and raced to catch up.