I'm HALPING!


Part Two: Halping!


Julia wasn't in a good position to see when Taylor Hebert was shoved into the locker, which had irritated her. All Madison had told her was that there was an 'awesome prank' going down, with Taylor as the butt of it, which was pretty well par for the course. Show up, Madison had said. Be ready to take pictures. It'll be epic.

She hadn't been wrong. It was epic, all right. Epic in the same way that an Endbringer attack was epic. Julia hadn't been paying too much attention to Sophia's boy-toy, except to express a little surprise, given that the track star rarely spent time smooging up to guys. In fact, if Sophia had been a little more butch, Julia would have seriously begun to wonder if she was playing for the other team.

When the door slammed shut on Hebert, locking her in with all that crap, Julia had been delighted and amazed – along with being a little pissed, of course. If she'd known that was gonna go down, she would've picked a better vantage point.

Of course, if she'd known what else was going to go down, she would've picked a different vantage point altogether, for an entirely different reason.

The first thing that clued her in on something being wrong (for anyone not named Taylor Hebert, of course) was when Madison came flying at her. Not staggering, not even running backward. Flying. Like, airborne. And Julia was in the way.

Point of note: petite girls are still heavy. When one slams into you at waythefucktoofast speed, they can and will bowl you the fuck off of your feet. And the people behind you.

Julia went down, of course. Madison landed on her, then rolled off, groaning horribly. Julia wondered if her ribs were broken, or if Madison's impact had just bruised everything from her kidneys on forward. She still had her phone in her hand. It was a conditioned reflex ingrained into every teen; whatever else happens, don't ever lose your phone. Gang attack, Endbringer event, the Triumvirate showing up for a publicity stunt, it was all the same. If you didn't know where your phone was, you were nothing.

Hebert didn't even own a phone. That was her in a nutshell, really.

Gasping for breath, Julia watched as the boy-toy slammed Emma up against a locker, then bounced Sophia off the floor like a basketball. Sophia didn't bounce too well. Then the boy-toy stepped up to the locker and fucking ripped the door off. Julia's eyes went wide; before, she'd been going to call the cops and paramedics and shit. Now she knew exactly who she was gonna call.

And it wasn't the fucking Ghostbusters.


"You've reached nine-one-one. What is your emergency?"

"Parahuman attack," gasped Julia. With wide, terrified eyes, she watched the boy-toy, with Taylor Hebert in his arms, stride down the hallway and out of sight. Nobody tried to stop him, for several really obvious reasons. One was the fact that he'd just torn off a locker door with his bare hands. The second was that the stuff that Emma and the others had put in Taylor's locker stank. And some of it was stuck to Hebert's legs. They could probably smell her in Boston.

The phone clicked and buzzed, then she heard a new voice. "You have reached the PRT emergency call line. Are you experiencing a parahuman attack at this time?"

"My – my friends have been attacked," Julia sobbed. "They're hurt badly, I think. The guy just hit them."

"I understand," the woman on the other end of the line told her soothingly. "Can you tell me your location, please?"

"I – Winslow High School," Julia stammered, trying not to hyperventilate. "Please help us. He might come back any moment."

"I'm alerting the PRT as we speak," the woman said soothingly. "The more information you can give me about this, the better. What sort of powers were used to attack your friends, and how badly are they injured?"

Julia couldn't recall what they called really strong capes. "He just – just hit them, really hard. Just a single punch to put them down," she blurted. "Then he ripped a locker door off with his bare hands. He's strong, really strong."

She could hear the clatter of computer keys. "A Brute classification, then. How badly are your friends injured?"

"Uh -" Julia sat up and looked at Madison. The brunette was moaning weakly and clutching at her arm. It looked twisted in a really weird way, and her wrist just looked all wrong. Sophia was still lying on her back, a few yards away, breath hissing through her teeth. Julia couldn't see if there was anything badly wrong with Emma, but she was folded into a curled-up position, so she decided to go with the safest option. "I think they're all hurt pretty badly. Broken bones at least. He hit them really hard." She was aware that she was repeating the same words over and over – he hit them really hard – but she couldn't help herself.

"Ambulance services have been dispatched to your location. Can you describe the parahuman to me? Was he wearing a costume?"

"No," she said. "He was just wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He's new here. I thought he was a friend of Sophia's. Tall, good-looking, black hair, kind of serious. I didn't get his name."

"That's fine, that's fine," the PRT woman replied gently. "Now, what I want you to do is describe the incident to me as closely as you can. Don't leave out any uses of his powers. Can you do that for me?"

Julia took a deep breath. We locked some girl in her locker and he went nuts and rescued her. Yeah, that'll go down real well. "Uh, someone played some kinda prank and he just went nuts for no good reason," she hedged. "Hit Emma and Sophia and Madison, then ripped off a locker door, then went off with some girl."

The woman's tone sharpened. "There's someone with him now? Do you believe her life to be in danger?"

Why did I mention Taylor? "Uh, probably not. She's probably in on it with him. She's a creepy weird loner."

"I see. Do you know her name?"

"Uh, yeah, Taylor. Taylor Hebert."

"Have you seen them together before this point?"

She thought of lying, but decided it was too dangerous. "Uh, no, this was the first time I met him. But they could've met out of school."

"Thank you. Your friends, the injured girls. Can you tell me their full names?"

"Uh, yes. Emma Barnes, Madison Clements and Sophia Hess. My name's Julia."


Parahuman Response Teams ENE
Office of Deputy Director Renick

Paul Renick pushed his glasses back up on his nose and eyed the email with a vaguely quizzical air. Now, why would Kid Win be requisitioning seventeen pounds of popcorn and a rubber duck … well, never mind. I'm sure Armsmaster's ordered in stranger things before. He forwarded the email onward, with his approval attached, then turned to the next one in the queue.

But before he could click it open, an alert flag popped up on his desktop. Reflexively, he clicked on it. A window unfolded, and he started scanning the lines of text.

Parahuman attack at Winslow High. Reported by student. Female, young, agitated.

Perp Brute. Several students injured. Dispatching emerg services.

Perp male, teenage, good looking, black hair, serious appearance. No name given. Friend of student called Sophia. No costume, no mask. T-shirt, jeans.

Perp responded to prank with violence. Struck three girls. Emma, Sophia, Madison. Tore door off of locker (why?) HOSTAGE.

Caller does not think hostage is in danger (why?) Hostage name is Taylor Herbert (sp?). Caller has not seen hostage w/perp, but thinks that they may be in collusion (why?).

Renick kept reading, his brow furrowing. This was a standard call-out; he wasn't sure why the alert had popped up on his computer. Then he scrolled onward a little, and saw the highlighted name.

Full names of victims Emma Barnes (sp?), Madison Clements, Sophia Hess.

He hadn't registered the name 'Sophia' above, but now he recalled it. Wait, she took a Brute friend to school, where he attacked her and some other students? What's going on here?

Picking his phone up, he hit speed-dial. It didn't take long for him to get an answer. "Emily," he said carefully, "I think we may have a situation."

He didn't miss the groan from the other end. Emily hated 'situations'.


I sniffed the air as I scrubbed my legs again. I'd been wearing jeans – I would have to burn them now – but even though I was clean, I still felt the touch of that shit on me. But I couldn't smell anything other than soap and water, so I decided to stop scrubbing. My skin was starting to get a bit red, anyway. Of course, the water was pretty hot too …

"I have brought you clean clothes and a towel, Taylor Hebert!"

I spun around, arms flying to cover myself. But he wasn't looking. All I could see was a handful of what looked like clothing being held across the entrance to the shower cubicle.

Well, I was clean enough already. I turned the shower off and reached for the clothing. "Thanks. Uh … sorry, I didn't catch your name earlier. Who are you again, and why are you helping me?" The thought was never far from my mind that this might be some kind of massive multi-layered prank, to set me up and then have the whole school take photos of me naked or something.

"My name is Zachary. Sophia gave me that name. I am here to help you."

I started to dry myself. "Sophia … Hess? You know Sophia?" The ugly possibilities in the back of my mind began to multiply.

"Yes, Taylor Hebert. I know Sophia. She is not a nice person. She hurt you. I liked her until she did that. Then I stopped liking her."

Zachary's delivery was … odd. Almost robotic. Or very naïve. I finished drying myself and scrubbed at my scalp. "But why did you help me? You don't know me." Even the people who know me don't want to help me.

His voice was almost comically bright. "I am here to help you, Taylor Hebert! That is what I am here to do!"

Circular argument. I am here to help you, so I am helping you.

I had to know. Mom had instilled in me a certain level of curiosity. "But why are you here to help me?" With the towel wrapped around my hair, I started getting dressed.

"Because that is the basis of my existence, Taylor Hebert! I am here to help you!"

The clothing wasn't mine. Too short and too wide, but there was also a belt, which I managed to pull in to the last notch. I had to take the towel off of my head to put on the t-shirt, which hung on me like a tent, but at least I was dressed.

Okay. Now I could address the philosophical conundrum that had been presented to me.

I stepped out of the shower cubicle and met his gaze squarely. "So what you're saying is that you're in love with me. Is that it?" Oh, god, please don't let that be it. He's kinda hunky, but I don't need an obsessed boyfriend. Especially one whom I've never met before.

He looked vaguely confused. "I am not in love with you, Taylor Hebert. I am here to help you. Now, come with me and you can eat some food."

" … food?" I blinked, trying to get past the conversational whiplash.

"Yes, Taylor Hebert. You have undergone a most traumatic experience. Trauma induces shock. It is good to eat food in order to reduce the effects of shock."

"I …" I guessed that I was still a little shaky from all of what had happened. Not least being the fact that I'd been rescued by an overly attentive stranger who was determined to wait on me hand and foot. " … okay. Food sounds good."

"Food is good, Taylor Hebert. You are more than a little underweight. Perhaps you need to eat a little more food every day and exercise for muscle mass. That would be a healthy thing to do."

Overly attentive wasn't the half of it, apparently. He was also incredibly rude, without even intending to be so.

Well, kinda rude. In a well-meaning way.

I snuck a sideways glance at him as we walked along the corridor. He really was good looking. Also, if his biceps were any indication, he had serious muscle definition. Also also, he had gotten me out of the locker. Okay, I could forgive the rudeness. This time.

"Okay, uh, Zachary?"

"Yes, Taylor Hebert?"

"For one thing, my name's Taylor, all right. Just Taylor, not 'Taylor Hebert' all the time."

"Yes, Taylor. I will remember that."

"Thank you, Zachary. Uh, do you prefer Zachary or Zach?"

"I have no preference, Taylor. You may refer to me by either name."

"Okay, Zach, one other rule. Please don't make personal comments about my weight or habits unless I invite them, all right? It makes me feel uncomfortable."

"I will try not to make you feel uncomfortable, Taylor. But I will make an observation."

He paused. I nodded cautiously. "Yes?"

"Sometimes it is necessary to make someone uncomfortable in order to help them. Is that not true?"

Dammit. He had me there.

"Uh, okay, yeah, but still? Ask permission before making any personal comments, all right?"

"I will do that, Taylor." He pushed open the cafeteria door. One staff member was present, wiping down the counter. The smell of hot food tickled my nostrils, making my stomach growl. "I will get you some food, Taylor."

Food did sound good, but I was pretty sure that we weren't supposed to be there. We approached the servery counter; it was all there, but locked behind glass. "Um, maybe we could go to a vending machine?"

"Why do we need to do that, Taylor?"

I gestured at the inaccessible food. "Because we can't get to it?"

"Can I help you?" We both looked around at the lady behind the counter. She returned a surly expression. I was pretty sure that her question really meant What the fuck are you doing in my cafeteria?

"Yes, you can help us, please," Zach said brightly. "Taylor needs some food. You would be helping her if you gave her something to eat."

The woman stared at him, then at me. I essayed a little shrug, trying to convey It wasn't my idea, but I am kinda hungry. I wasn't sure if she actually got all of that.

"Cafeteria's closed," grunted the woman, starting to wipe the bench again. "Come back at lunch time."

That was pretty definite as far as dismissals went. I started to turn away, but Zach spoke again. "No. Taylor is here now. She needs food now." There was a harder tone in his voice, one that I hadn't heard before. "Please give her food now, so that she can eat."

I put my hand on his arm. "Zach, it's all right. I can wait."

"No, Taylor," he insisted. "You need food. There is food right here." He shifted his attention to the woman. "Please give Taylor some food."

The woman's lip curled. "Go away before I call the principal. You're not even supposed to be in here."

"All right." For a moment, I thought that Zach was seeing sense. Then he took hold of the end of the glass cover with one hand, braced the other on the counter … and with a sound like a trainwreck, pulled the cover clear off the servery. That was loud enough. When he casually tossed it to one side, where it demolished a table? That was even louder.

I'd been meaning to ask him how he got me out of that locker.


Armsmaster turned his head. A glance at his HUD selected 'all units'. "Armsmaster here. What was that noise, over?"

A moment passed, then a voice came over comms. "Squad Three Actual. We're near the cafeteria. The sound came from inside there. It sounds like someone's wrecking the place, over."

"Roger, Squad Three Actual. Hold position. All other units, converge on the cafeteria. Armsmaster out." He cut his mic and looked down at where the paramedics were loading the three injured girls on to gurneys. All the other civilians had since been evacuated, of course. "How long until you can evac them?"

"We'll be done in a minute." The man in charge glanced up at him. "We've got multiple broken bones, possible internal injuries and maybe spinal damage. But they're stable. We'll have them out of your way soon."

"Good." He paced forward, glanced at Miss Militia. She held a heavy machinegun in a casual grip, a bright red laser dot playing on the far end of the corridor. There were not many people who could use a laser sight with a gun that size; it went without saying that she was one of the few. "Rest of the school's been evacuated?"

She nodded. "Almost. Classrooms have been cleared. Squad Four reported finding torn-open lockers in the girls' shower room."

He frowned slightly. "What is it with this Brute and lockers? And what's with that locker and the filth that's in it?" He gestured with his halberd toward the locker in question; the appalling reek was easily discernible ten yards away. "That's going to need a hazmat team to clear up."

"I think it means that there's something going on that we don't know about," Miss Militia said pensively. "Maybe it's got something to do with the hostage."

Armsmaster grimaced. "I hate hostage situations."

"Don't lie," she murmured, elbowing him gently in the ribs. "You love anything that gives you a challenge you can overcome."

He didn't rise to the bait. She was closer to the truth than he was comfortable with. He wanted – needed – to prove himself, to show the higher-ups that he was relevant, able to hold his own at the top of the heap in Brockton Bay. His social skills were atrocious, he knew, but there were things that he had trouble grasping and things that came easily to him. Engineering. Leadership. Fighting. Those were his forte.

"Okay, we're ready to roll." He looked around. The paramedics were lifting the gurneys, holding the IV trees up out of the way, making preparations to evacuate the injured. The victims, he reminded himself. Including a Ward. That makes it personal.

"Good," he said. "Let's go." The blink of an eye brought up a plan of the school; he set the cafeteria as their target, and the navigation system overlaid a path on the map. The path was also projected on his field of view, so that he didn't have to check with the map. A little overkill while walking through a high school, no doubt, but immeasurably useful when riding at full tilt through the back streets of Brockton Bay.

"Assault here," he heard in his earpiece; a quick check showed that it was coming in on the capes-only frequency. "Me and puppy can provide backup if you want. Because, you know, Brute and all."

"We're trying to keep this low-key," Armsmaster replied firmly. "There's a hostage involved. If he sees too many capes coming at him, he might panic and hurt her."

"So Miss Militia's going to do the talking, gotcha."

"Clear the channel," growled Armsmaster. He shot a suspicious glance at Miss Militia; she may have been smiling under the scarf, but he couldn't be certain. After a moment, he cleared his throat and opened the cape channel once more. "Armsmaster to Velocity. Are you in position, over?"

"Roger that," the speedster replied. "Once you go in there, if I can zip in and grab the girl, I will."

"Hold off on that until we get a read on him," Armsmaster advised him. "He may have better reflexes than we know about. Right now, the well-being of this girl ..."

"Taylor Hebert," Miss Militia reminded him.

"Taylor Hebert, is paramount."

"Holding off, roger."

"Good." He cut the channel again, and accessed the notes taken by the PRT emergency call responder. "Says here her name is Herbert."

"I checked the school records," Miss Militia told him. "More than one student by the name of Herbert, but no Taylors. There is one Taylor Hebert, though. Fifteen years old."

"Hm." He nodded, taking the information on board. "Poor kid. She must be about scared to death by now."


This was the first time I had ever felt actually comfortable in the school cafeteria. With nobody else to poke fun at me or 'accidentally' knock my tray to the floor, or spill their drink on me, I was able to actually relax and enjoy my meal in peace.

Of course, the fact that Zach had more or less destroyed the servery was a bit of a downer, but I was carefully ignoring that aspect of matters. He was strong. I mean, really, really strong. But he had never hurt me with that strength. In fact, he was using it to help me. I found it weird in the extreme, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the heck out of the meal. The fact that I wasn't really questioning that strength was a faint niggle at the back of my mind, but one that I chose to ignore for the moment. It wasn't really important, anyway.

Finally, I pushed my tray away and essayed a delicate ladylike burp. Well, it started that way, then went way out of control. "Wow," I muttered. "Excuse me and all that."

"You do not need to be excused, Taylor," Zach said. "Belching is a perfectly normal bodily function." He had stayed quiet, at my request, while I was eating, but now it seemed that he felt at liberty to speak once more.

"Ah, yeah, let's not expand on bodily functions," I said hastily. "So, uh, what do we do now? My locker's destroyed, my books are totalled and I think they're gonna be a little pissed at what you did to the servery."

"I can help to repair that," offered Zach. "But I do not have any money to pay for it." He paused. "You did not explain why Sophia put you in your locker. Lockers are not intended for human accommodation. Nor are they intended for toxic waste storage. Why did she do this?"

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. "It's not just Sophia. It's Emma and Madison as well. They've been picking on me since I started high school. Everything they can do to hurt me or make me feel bad, they'll do it."

He looked solemn. "This is not a good thing."

"No shit it's not a good thing," I said, a little more vehemently than I had intended. "I just wish they'd stop, is all."

"Have you asked them to stop?" His voice was matter-of-fact.

I smiled bitterly. "I've done nothing but, since they started. Telling the teachers does nothing. Telling the principal does nothing. They just keep doing it."

"Oh." He stood up from his chair. "I will return, Taylor."

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" I jumped up as well.

"I am going to solve your problem."

I caught up with him as he strode toward the doors. "How are you going to do that?"

"I am going to kill them." His tone was earnest, almost scarily so.

"No, you can't! Killing is wrong!"

"No, it is not." He really intended to do this. I could hear it in his voice. "Sophia will understand. She knows that it is sometimes necessary to kill to solve a problem. I will let her explain to the other two, and give them time to make their peace with whatever deity they consider significant."

"Wait, no," I protested. I grabbed him by the arm. "Stop!"

Coming to a halt, he turned to me. "Why are you stopping me? It is the most expeditious solution to your problem. If they are dead, they cannot hurt you."

I stared into his face, trying to reach him. "Don't kill them. Don't kill anyone. Please."

He tilted his head. "I want to help you, Taylor. I am here to help you. Do you want them to stop bullying you?"

"Yes … no … but … argh!" I scrubbed at my forehead with the back of my hand. "Not like this. If you killed someone on my account, I would never be able to forget that someone died because of me."

"I will not kill them, Taylor," he agreed.

I sighed with relief. "Good. Thank you. That makes me feel much better."

"I am glad that you feel better," he said simply. "I have an alternate strategy in mind. I do not need to kill them."

A sense of impending doom tapped me on the shoulder and bet me that the alternate strategy was worse. I tried to ignore it. "What is your new strategy?"

He smiled at me. "I will frighten them instead. I will tell them that I will kill them if they do not stop hurting you."

Mentally, I handed the sense of impending doom fifty bucks. It had been right all along. "No. That will hurt me and my dad. Badly."

He looked confused. "But I will not be killing anyone, Taylor. How is this hurting you?"

I sighed. "Emma Barnes is the daughter of a lawyer. If you make threats against her on my behalf, then her father will probably sue me and Dad so hard my grandkids will be paying off the damages."

"But you do not have grandchildren, Taylor."

"It's a figure of speech. It means that it'll be very costly to me and Dad. Please don't threaten Emma with death or dismemberment. She's extremely vindictive."

"Oh." He brightened. "Then I will -"

The sense of impending doom was back, but before it could offer me a new bet, the cafeteria doors opened. We both looked around. I was expecting one of the teachers, or maybe Principal Blackwell. What I wasn't expecting was Armsmaster and Miss Militia.

Oh, wait. Zach's a cape. Well, duh.

I waved. "Uh, hi?" The wave and my tone of voice were intended to be disarming. We're good. No need for any unpleasantness.

It didn't seem to work. Armsmaster levelled his halberd at Zach, while Miss Militia aimed a taser at him. At least, I assumed it was a taser; it looked like it could bring down a medium-sized elephant. "Taylor Hebert?" That was Miss Militia.

"Yeah?" Boy, was I on fire with the witty dialogue today.

"Are you hurt?" Her voice was serious.

I blinked. "Um, a bit scraped here and there, but fine, thanks." The locker hadn't been kind to my knees and elbows, of course, but Zach had gotten me out before I did too much damage to myself.

"Please step away from the parahuman," Armsmaster said. It was worded like a request, but I would have had to be tone-deaf, actually deaf and unconscious to not hear it as an order.

"What?" I asked. "Why?" I stepped a little closer to Zach, just to make my point. "He's not hurting me. He even got me something to eat."

Armsmaster flicked a glance sideways at the remains of the servery. "Causing serious damage to school property."

Zach chose that point to speak up. "The lady would not serve Taylor. Taylor needed food. I obtained the food for her."

"He's right," I agreed. "I was kind of in shock. I really needed to eat." I moved again, stepping in front of Zach. Armsmaster frowned slightly, maybe because I was spoiling his aim. "Don't attack him. He didn't do anything wrong."

"On the contrary, Miss Hebert, he has perpetrated three counts of grievous bodily harm," Armsmaster stated flatly. "In addition to this and other incidences of damage to school property."

I turned to Zach. "You didn't tell me that you hurt anyone!"

"I was helping you," he replied innocently. "They tried to stop me from helping you. I did not allow them to do so."

"Wait," I said. "So who did you hurt?" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Armsmaster begin to move, but Miss Militia put her hand on his arm. "Hold that thought," I added to Zach, then turned back to the heroes. "Can you just hold on a moment? I need to sort this out."

I hadn't known that it was possible to glower at someone from behind an opaque visor. In the event, Armsmaster proved that this was indeed the case. Miss Militia didn't seem so angry, although she did look a little concerned. "Please do not provoke him," she advised me, as if Zach wasn't right there. "We don't want anyone else to get hurt."

"I will not hurt Taylor," Zach stated plainly. "I am here to help her. I will keep her safe."

"He really has," I told them. "Now, can you just hold on? I need to find out what happened."

Miss Militia nodded. "All right, but be careful."

I sighed. I wasn't sure who was being more aggravating, my self-appointed bodyguard or the self-important heroes. "Okay. Zach. Who did you hurt and why?"

There was no duplicity in his gaze as he looked at me. "I hurt Madison because she tried to hold me back from helping you. I hurt Emma because she stood in my way and because she locked you in your locker. I hurt Sophia because she pushed you into your locker and tried to prevent me from letting you out. I did not kill any of them."

He did not add but I could have, because you had not asked me not to kill anyone at that time. For which I was eternally grateful.

"Right. Okay." I turned back to the heroes. "How badly are they hurt? Life-threatening?"

From the expressions moving over the visible part of Armsmaster's face, he had obviously not known about my little stint in the locker. "Uh, no. Serious, yes, but not life-threatening." He firmed his stance. "We still have to arrest him. Using parahuman powers on normals is a very serious crime."

"Wait." It was Miss Militia. "You're saying that Sophia Hess pushed you into your locker? The one with all the filth in it? And another one of the girls locked you in? With her connivance?"

There was something off about her wording, but I wasn't paying much attention. "I, uh … I didn't see who did it, exactly. But Zach did." I turned to him again. "Is that what happened?"

He nodded earnestly. "That is exactly what happened. I thought Sophia was a good person. Then she did that, and I knew that she was not." In exactly the same tone of voice, he continued, "Are you certain that I should not kill her? She intended to harm you badly. I can not allow that to happen."

Oh, god, I groaned, deep inside. He didn't just say that where they could hear him.

My imagination stepped in with a second voice, snickering. He sure did. Where's the popcorn?

I did my best to quell my imagination. "Yes," I told Zach as firmly as I could. "You must never kill anyone, ever. That is a very bad thing. I would be very hurt if you did that. And you should not hurt the heroes, either." Absently, I considered the fact that I was adopting his speech patterns while talking to him. Hopefully, that'll make it more likely that he'll listen.

"I will not hurt you, Taylor," he agreed. "I will not kill Sophia. Is it acceptable to harm her short of death if she attacks you again?"

"I dunno," I mused, then turned to look at the Protectorate capes. "Is it okay to just break Sophia's kneecaps if she tries to shove me into another locker? Because really, I've taken enough shit from her over the last year. I've had enough. Turning the other cheek just gets me bruised cheeks. So I think it's time for some eye-for-an-eye. Self-defence, defence of others, whatever. When Sophia gets out of the hospital, if she comes after me again, I figure that whatever Zach does to her, she deserves. Yeah?"

"Let's … shelve that for a moment." Miss Militia lowered her taser; a moment later, it had become a pistol, which she holstered. Armsmaster went to say something, but she shook her head. He frowned, but seemed to follow her lead. "Can we get back to where you were shoved into your locker?"

It was my turn to grimace. "Not my favourite memory, like, ever, but sure. Let's do that. What do you want to know?"

The flag-clad hero turned her attention to Zach. "Your name is Zach?"

"Yes. Sophia gave me my name." He seemed proud of that fact.

"Wait." That was Armsmaster. "That's not your real name?"

"Yes, it is my real name." Zach tilted his head. "Why would it not be a real name?"

"Never mind that for now." Miss Militia was back on track. "Zach, you are certain that you saw Sophia Hess pushing Taylor into her locker?"

Something was definitely off here. They were paying a lot of attention to what Sophia had done, and none at all to Emma. I wasn't able to think it through, because the conversation was still ongoing.

"Yes," Zach said firmly. "I saw her do it while Madison explained to me who Taylor Hebert was. Sophia pushed Taylor into her locker and Emma locked her in. Once I knew that this was Taylor Hebert, I knew that she was the one that I was here to help. So I helped her. I pushed the other girls aside and opened the locker and got Taylor out. Then I took her to the locker room so that she could get clean and wear clean clothes. Then I brought her here because food is good for shock."

His matter-of-fact tone seemed to puzzle the heroes. I was also reminded of something that I had wanted to clarify with Zach, but which had somehow managed to be pushed to the back of my mind. Why is he here to help me? Who sent him? What's this all about?

But Armsmaster was speaking. "I understand that you believe you were justified in what you are doing," he stated. "But you have committed several crimes, including assault and battery, destruction of property and theft. I suggest that you surrender peacefully to arrest." His halberd was levelled again.

"No." Zach said the word simply, but there was a weight behind it, as of an immovable object. "When I am not with Taylor, people try to harm her. I will not allow that. I will not leave her alone to be harmed. I am here to help her. If you try to harm her, then I will stop you."

"Threatening a member of the Protectorate is an offence," Armsmaster replied grimly. "Miss Hebert, step away from the parahuman, or I will be forced to consider you to be an accessory to his actions."

"For god's sake!" I burst out. "People committed crimes against me, and he saved me, and you're arresting him? I thought you were supposed to be the heroes here!"

"Your allegations against the other girls have all been recorded," Armsmaster told me. "They will be investigated fully. But in the meantime, we know that these crimes have been committed. This parahuman is required to surrender himself to lawful custody until the matter can be sorted out."

I opened my mouth to reply, but Zach put his hand on my shoulder. "Taylor, please move aside," he told me. "I can protect you more than you can protect me."

"But they can't just arrest you," I protested. "You're only helping me! It's everyone else who's doing the wrong thing!"

He smiled slightly. "They will not arrest me." Once again, I was struck by the absolute certainty of his tone. I had no idea why I believed him so implicitly, but I did. I stepped aside, moving until a couple of yards separated us.

Armsmaster spoke, a single word. "Now." I tensed, expecting him and Miss Militia to unleash attacks on Zach. It didn't happen, but something else did. A blur erupted from the open doorway, blazed past Miss Militia and Armsmaster, and intercepted me. I tried to dodge aside, but the blur resolved into a man in a familiar costume. Velocity.

"'Scuse me, gotta run." He scooped me up in a bridal carry, and went to bolt once more. My thought processes were still catching up – no, no, they can't just do this! - when he stopped once more. It wasn't by choice. Zach was standing right there, his hand wrapped around Velocity's upper arm.

"You will put Taylor down, at once," Zach advised Velocity. "Please. Taylor does not want me to hurt you."

"What the crap?" blurted the red-clad speedster. "How did you do that?"

I didn't wait for Zach's answer; instead, I wedged the palm of my hand up under his chin and pushed hard. He wore a light helmet, both for protection and to hold his radio, I guessed, and this threatened to dislodge it. Faced with the choice of losing the helmet or having his head pushed up, he chose instead to let me go. I would have landed on my butt, but Zach somehow got his arm under my shoulders, slowing my fall enough that I got my feet under me instead.


The moment he was free of the Brute's grasp, Velocity went into his Breaker state and blurred away from the both of them, ending up back at the door. How the hell did that even happen? he asked himself. Is he a teleporter? I didn't even see him move.

"Stand down, Velocity," Armsmaster subvocalised into his ear. "We've got this."

"What happened, kid?" Assault asked over the common channel. "Did the big bad Brute tag you?" There was the hint of a chuckle in his voice.

"Shut up," muttered Velocity. "I'd like to see you do any better."

"Well, if the boss-man decides to tag us in, we'll see," Assault replied.

Ignoring the radio chatter, Armsmaster was focusing on the teenage parahuman. "One more chance to surrender peacefully," he advised the kid.

"I will not surrender," the Brute replied. He wasn't boasting or blustering, simply stating a fact. "If you take me away, then Taylor may be harmed. I will not allow that."

"I think we're perfectly adequate to keep her safe," Miss Militia pointed out.

"Yeah, well, you've done a bang-up job of it so far," the girl – Taylor – interjected bitterly. "Where were you when I got shoved into my locker? Or when my flute got stolen? Or when they poured juice over my seat? Or when Sophia pushed me down the stairs? They've been doing this for over a fucking year, and you only get involved when someone actually steps in to help me? Fuck you. Fuck you all." She turned to Zach. "If they attack you, you're allowed to hurt them. Just don't kill them."

"I will not kill them, Taylor," Zach said solemnly. "I promise." He stepped toward Armsmaster and Miss Militia. "Please move aside. Taylor and I are leaving now."

Armsmaster responded first. His halberd was capable of a wireless taser effect, Velocity knew. He also knew that the effect had variable settings. The crackling bolt that leaped from the tip of the weapon and grounded in Zach's chest was definitely not the lowest setting.

It did … nothing. Zach looked down at it, then intercepted the bolt with his hand, apparently allowing the current to flow down his arm and into his body. The T-shirt he was wearing now sported a burned spot in the middle of the chest.

A pained cry from Taylor as she stood off to the side drew everyone's attention. It looked as though a stray arc of electricity had contacted her, given that she was shaking her hand vigorously. Armsmaster shut off the wireless taser; it wasn't as though the attack was doing anything to Zach anyway. Velocity wondered just how high the guy's Brute rating really was.

"As my brother might say, that was cute," Zach stated. "Taylor, are you well?"

"Yeah," she replied, rubbing a red spot on her hand. "Stung like fuck, is all."

"Good." He turned his attention to Armsmaster. "You are not responsible enough to use your weapon properly. Give it to me before anyone else gets hurt."

Armsmaster hefted his halberd defensively. "You are joking."

"I do not know how to joke," Zach said, and stepped forward. "Give your weapon to me before you harm Taylor again. I promise not to hurt you with it."

Miss Militia had been pushing grenades into a bulky launcher while this was going on. Velocity knew that if she wanted to fire regular rounds, they would already be loaded up, so these had to be some sort of Tinkertech. Probably a good idea, with the girl there. Some sort of limited effect.

The exact effect revealed itself a moment later, when Miss Militia fired the grenade launcher at Zach. She didn't just shoot once; one grenade after another hit Zach, as fast as she could rack the action. Containment foam bloomed in splotches on the approaching parahuman, the yellow blobs expanding rapidly to hold and constrict him in an unbreakable grip.

Unbreakable, that is, except by high-end Brutes. Which Zach apparently was, as he just kept coming. He tore away the foam that had covered his head and chest with a wet ripping sound, while some of the foam that had adhered to the floor stayed there and some stayed attached to his legs. Either way, it did nothing to slow him down. Christ, that's gotta be Brute 7 or 8 at least.

Armsmaster went into a guard position, his halberd crackling with energy. "I warn you, if you do not surrender immediately, you will be seriously injured -"

Now shirtless, Zach reached for the halberd. Armsmaster spun adroitly, slamming the butt-end of it against the teen Brute's chest. Now, this should have unleashed a burst of kinetic energy capable of knocking Zach across the room. The energy was unleashed, with a loud POP and the smell of ozone. Zach stumbled back a single step, then recovered.

Before he could move forward, however, the heroes were reacting. Armsmaster pointed his halberd at the ceiling; the end of it shot upward with a cable trailing behind, reconfiguring into a grappling hook. Miss Militia, on the other hand, was rapidly retreating.

The grapple engaged on a light fitting, and Armsmaster was yanked upward. Even as he left the floor, more grenades plopped into the foam still encasing Zach's lower body, then commenced hissing, releasing a dirty white vapour. Velocity counted two tear gas grenades and two knockout gas grenades; they weren't playing around. With all but a very few exceptions, even the toughest Brutes had to breathe, and Zach showed no signs of being one of the few.

As Velocity retreated with Miss Militia and the PRT soldiers, he heard four distinct cracks. He had no idea what they meant, until Armsmaster spoke up over comms. "He's thrown the grenades through the wall." The Tinker sounded distinctly aggrieved.

"Any effect on him?" That was Miss Militia.

"None that I can see."

"What's he doing now?"

"Peeling the rest of the containment foam off. He's definitely an eight-plus for Brute. Maybe a minor Mover or Thinker as well."

"And the girl?"

"She seems unharmed. Stayed out of the radius of the gas. Doesn't appear to be frightened of him."

"Damn it. What are our options?"

"Heavy weapons. Really heavy weapons."

Assault's voice broke into the chat. "Hey, me and Battery can come see what we can do."

"Negative." Armsmaster's voice brooked no argument. "Fall back. He's moving toward the door with the girl."

Miss Militia hesitated. "I can try armour-piercing …"

"At best, he would ignore it. At worst, I suspect that it would just make him mad. I don't think we want to see him angry."

"Hulk smash?" That was Assault.

"Clear the channel," ordered Armsmaster.

"No sense of humour," muttered Assault, but fell silent after that.

They were backing down the corridor now, as the doors opened once more. Zach stepped out first, followed by the skinny girl. She looked over at them. "Why don't you just leave us alone?" she shouted. "You're only making things worse!"

"She, uh, has a point," suggested Velocity diffidently. "If you look at it in a certain way."

"Our job is to uphold the law," Armsmaster stated. "Parahumans don't just get to commit crimes and walk away scot-free. There is a price to be paid."

Velocity wasn't quite sure that it was as black and white as all that, but then, he wasn't the leader of the local branch of the Protectorate. He didn't get to make that call. Or, to put it another way, he wasn't the one being saddled with making that call.

"I have a suggestion, then." Miss Militia kept her voice down, although the pair were walking off in the opposite direction. Zach wasn't looking back, although Taylor was, from time to time.

The doors opened again, and Armsmaster stepped out. "I'm listening."

"We bring in the Wards."

He shook his head. "No. We can't expose them to this level of danger."

"Not all of the Wards," she explained. "Just Vista, Gallant and Clockblocker."

He seemed to think about that. " … yes. I see where you're going with this."

"Is that a green light?"

"Let me call the Director first. She needs to be in on the loop, here."

"Oh, she's going to love this one." Miss Militia's tone was heavy with sarcasm.

She's not the only one, thought Velocity.


End of Part Two