As the Plumbers fight the forces of the hybrid again, a hunter draws ever closer to its quarry. Read on…
Chapter 12 - The Inevitable Confrontation
With the low amount of warriors for their side of the battle, the Plumbers' aid station was less hectic than any of the medics had expected it to be, as besides the roar of field combat bellowing just a mile away and the occasional call they received that someone who had fallen in the conflict was either being brought to them or required assistance in being escorted to the station, the only surprises they encountered were the times when one or more of the enemy passed them by in a bid to reach the town.
Still whenever they were called, they dutifully obeyed their sworn mandate and went out to brave the danger. The two teams sent to collect Hex and Frank Tennyson after both had been felled by the hybrid evacuated their patients and brought them back safely, Natalie travelling alongside them, and commenced medical treatment the moment they returned. Luckily, as they discovered in the initial examinations, none of the injuries the hybrid had dealt had been life-threatening in any way, leading the chief surgeon to note in the record that the hybrid appeared to show reluctance in killing anyone that was not its target. As the battle progressed and more casualties were admitted, the chief's theory seemed to his staff to be accurate as the cause of each new patient's condition were found and labelled to be from minor wounds or overexhaustion. It was proven to them verbally after Max was admitted.
Having regained consciousness as he was carried to the aid station by his two rescuers, Max had been forced to listen to the battle from afar as the medics tended to him. He noticed early on from his arrival his wrist communicator had been smashed in the melee with the hybrid's creatures and asked to be supplied with a new one, insisting on getting any reports from the officers still out there fighting. The chief acceded to his order albeit with a tone of reluctance but he gave in, knowing Max had to retain command in some form. It was all for nothing though as the first message issued through was that Kevin had taken on the role of commander. Resigned to the fact that he was indeed out of it for a while, Max deflated and allowed the medics to carry on with their work.
While he showed no further physical display of agitation to alarm the medics, his mind remained disturbed. Again he questioned heartbreakingly how Gwen could have put herself in such a situation. What could have led her to actually trust Ghostfreak enough to share her body with him? He grew frustrated as nothing came to answer either of his questions, forcing him to look elsewhere. He turned his head one way to view the patient in the cot next to his, only noticing before it was occupied at a glance. Hex was wide awake, his eyes glaring monotonously at the makeshift ceiling.
Max raised his head and gained the attention of one of the medics. "How long has he been like that?" he asked.
"He revived not long after treatment. He says he's replenishing his energy to get back into the fight, despite our advice for him not to," the medic grumbled.
Max smiled weakly. "It's best not to argue with a sorceror, even if you're a doctor."
A derisive snort prevented any of the medics from answering as they and Max glanced at its source. Hex was smirking at them, a light sense of amusement expressed in his thin lips.
"Are you perhaps speaking about your wife, Magister?" he presumed. "Or have you finally learned from your battles with Charmcaster and myself?"
"I said argue, not fight, Hex," Max replied.
"The former then," Hex concluded. The sorceror paused for thought and turned his eyes in the other direction, his smirk disappearing. "It is not my energy however that has me pensive, I was fully replenished by the time you fell in battle. It's your son and his wife that concerns me."
Startled by the last sentence, Max followed Hex's gaze. Over at the end of the room, Frank and Natalie were passed out in twin cots, embracing each other across the space between. In spite of the distance, Max could see that Natalie's face was as red as her hair and stained with thick tears. Frank was different, looking somewhat peaceful and yet there was an element of pain in his features. Max looked to Hex again and then to the medics, requesting answers silently.
"Your son woke for a time," the chief surgeon went on to explain. "Physically he is responding well to the medication and will recover. But, as Hex was implying to you, sir, it's their emotional state. We thought it best to supply them with sedatives before their anxieties about Gwendolyn got the better of them."
Max nodded morosely. "I understand, but that's not going to help in the long term." He sighed in defeat. "Even if we manage to save Gwen from Ghostfreak, this has all gone too far. I'm afraid the Commission will be obliged to do their worst."
From there on, the aid station medical staff and their patients endured the outside warfare with morbid quiet. Then the explosion that Kevin instigated rocked through the area, shaking the various shelves and trays of medicines and surgical implements into a rattling frenzy. Max nearly leaped out of his cot, his old trained instincts calling him into taking attention to his surroundings. Hex reacted similarly, rising up in a tremendous gasp.
"Mana!" he exhaled loudly, drawing all those occupying the room to him.
"Hex, what is it?" Max cried.
"Mana, Tennyson. Someone has expunged a great deal of mana in a single attack out there! It's obliterating Ghostfreak's creations, consuming their energy and using it all to grow in its intensity! It's powerful enough to be felt across the entire metaphysical realm!"
"That doesn't make sense!" Max exclaimed. "Besides you and Hope, there's noone on our side who can use magic!"
"I do not understand it either," Hex retorted. "One moment, the aether was barely surging. The next, it tremored like an earthquake."
"Can you stop it?"
"No," the sorceror answered. "I'm too close to the epicentre to balance my own identity on the plane. It's throwing me off my centre. I'm powerless for the moment."
Max went for his communicator, switching it on. "Azmuth, tell me you're close to getting that shield up!"
"I'm afraid that's not going to happen, Max," came the Galvan's slow reply.
"Why? What's gone wrong?"
Azmuth groaned terribly. "One of those stupid golems and I crossed paths halfway to the front. It was trying to run away from those explosions in a hurry that it didn't see me and knocked me over. I'm fine by the way. The shield generator on the other hand…
"Is not," Max finished hollowly.
"Yep," Azmuth grumbled.
"Is there any other way you can help out?"
"Ugh, not really. There's no more tech I can use, unless you want me to strip the Rustbucket."
"Not an option," Max denied Azmuth. "That's our last line of defence. See if you can get here to the station. If not, head back to the Rustbucket. I'll see you there when this is all over."
"Gotcha."
Cutting off the connection, Max leaned back down to rest. He remained oblivious to the explosions beginning to quieten until they had abated completely to silence. Jolted up by the absence of the thunder, he rose from the cot again.
"What happened?"
"The metaphysical realm has returned to its normal balance," Hex responded, his voice regaining its calm tone. "The explosions are no longer disrupting it, meaning they have ended now. My powers are re-establishing."
"Can you sense what caused them then?"
Hex discerned the event slowly, drifting along back through time and witnessed the triggering of the first explosion across to the spluttering and weak final one in spirit. He inhaled sharply as the enemy was devastated on a grand scale. Then the vision took him back to where the process had commenced its colossal chain reaction, and he saw Chromastone and Helen arrive there, and watched as Helen left in a hurry to take Kevin to the aid station, which was when he returned to physicality and the present.
"I have, and you will be glad to know the power was indeed used by our side. However, how it was done may upset you," he gave his answer solemnly.
Before he could ask Hex what he had meant by that, Max found himself being interrupted as Helen burst into the aid station and came to a quick stop. His eyes went first to her desperate face and then to the object in her arms; they widened in shock when he recognised the object was an unconscious Kevin.
As Helen handed Kevin over to the medics, who prioritised Kevin to the most in need of treatment, Hex relayed to Max all he had seen, telling him that Kevin had absorbed mana into his body and used himself as a literal bomb to create the initial explosion, which led to its destroying a multitude of Ghostfreak's army. The losses suffered by the energy beings contributed to the countless long chain of deadly energy by way of their own explosions, allowing a great cataclysmic blast to sweep through the rest of the hybrid's army. Helen added further information, detailing that Kevin had planned the whole thing out and that both sides were taking the time to regroup.
Max regarded the two of them carefully and turned his thoughts to the situation. For the first time since his fall out on the field, he had a complete picture of events in his mind's eye. Although their side was safe for the moment, it would only last for as long as the enemy needed to mount another attack against them and, with Kevin there at the aid station, their forces were leaderless again unless Ben was going to take the position.
He shook his head abruptly. While Ben knew enough to lead, he was better placed fighting in the midst of battle than standing at what was basically an outside viewpoint. But that, of course, still left the question of who would.
Don't be stupid, Max, he admonished himself. You know exactly what the answer is.
His body agreeing with him, Max turned over, sat up in the cot and put his feet on the floor. With a stiff grunt, he got up with a slight wobble almost unbalancing him. The chief surgeon spun round, pointing a finger at him sternly. "Magister Tennyson, you need to rest. Get back in your cot please."
"Sorry, doc. I've got things to do. Lead the way, Helen."
The chief was not about to let his order go unheeded. He puffed up his chest and raised his voice. "You have no armour," he spoke, gesturing to a nearby table on which the ruins of steel and cloth of his old suit lay. "And we have none to spare."
An outcry from the resting patients still conscious roared into life, each man and woman offering to lend theirs to their leader. Max smiled warmly at the response, dismissing them with a half-hearted wave. Moved as he was by their gesture, he knew that none of the armoured suits they had would fit him.
Unimpressed, the chief surgeon kept on with his stance, visibly waiting impatiently for Max to obey his instructions. "Magister Tennyson," he spoke in warning clarity. A snort jolted him from continuing further. He turned and, to a rise from his already-wounded ego, saw Hex climbing out of his cot.
"No you don't," he tried to forestall the sorceror. "You're not in any condition to fight right now either, magic or no."
"Hmp. Earthlings," Hex scowled. He raised his hand, pushing it over the chief's shoulder to direct his palm towards Max. Summoning up the energy, he recalled Max's armour from memory and chanted, "Ad eum armis suis."
A bright flash flared around Max, forming itself gradually into a ring of mana. The ring moved closer in, growing smaller and smaller in size until it touched his skin. Almost instantly at that moment, it changed shape again and blanketed Max in its spread all the way down to his feet and all the way up to his neck. Lines, corners and points were drawn into the surface, seemingly designing layer upon layer by themselves. It was there that all the Plumbers present began to recognise the spell was taking on the familiar construct that was their standard armour, and their looks switched from general confusion to wonder as Hex's work was crafted into perfect detail, ending with the final stage of the opaque energy transitioning into solid matter of steel and cloth.
Max grinned at the old sorceror, congratulating him silently on his work; Hex returned it with a light smirk. The chief surgeon frowned, realising that any further attempts at intervention would be useless, and resumed his work tending to other patients that wouldn't ignore his orders so casually. Max strode out of the station, Hex and Helen following determinedly in his wake as they commenced their short travel back to the battlefield.
:*:
Inside the Tennyson car, everything was quiet and tense. As Carl drove carefully onward, Sandra and Hope kept their eyes circling around the area, surveying for any signs of a prepared ambush. Though the three of them had managed to throw off their pursuers, leaving the thickened road traffic throughout the town as the only major obstacle, Hope confessed a feeling that the enemy had backed off from the chase far too easily. Carl, who had watched the last two monsters actually stop still on the road instead of halting to recover from being tired in the rearview mirror, agreed.
It was some time after the pursuit was over that the trio got past the last bit of traffic jams and made their way to the quieter, more suburban areas of Bellwood. The tense mood lessened, relaxing slightly as the silence was broken at intervals whenever Carl asked Hope for more directions and the sorceress moved her attention to him to answer, sometimes noting just how close the three of them were getting to their destination.
As Carl saw they were coming to an intersection, he slowed the car down and leaned back to ask Hope the same question again. Focused on keeping watch for danger outside, Hope found her attention disrupted as she turned, glancing around the neighbourhood. The familiarity she discovered about it drew her to smile.
"Yes," she said. "Keep going straight down to the end of the road and turn left at the corner. Uncle Hex's place is just seven houses down from there."
It was then that they and Sandra made a costly mistake. Turning to grin at each other in the relief they were about to make it left noone watching out for any enemies. For if they had, they would have seen the Gwen-Ghostfreak hybrid approaching from their right, looked back at it as it leered at them while licking its lips in preparation, and sped onward before it could power up. But there was none of this, and the hybrid was allowed to do those things unseen.
It attacked as Carl began to move into the intersection. Hope saw it then, her eyes darting from the hybrid itself to the incoming jet of light and she screamed at Carl to go faster. Before he could do anything, the blast struck the car in the side. Carl fought for control as the car swerved to the left.
Sandra tried to retaliate, aiming the blaster rifle at the hybrid. A second blow from the hybrid to the car threw her back, sending her shot wild.
Carl regained the car's steering and righted his position on the road. He slammed his foot down on the accelerator.
The hybrid snarled as its prey began to escape it and tossed a third blast of energy forward. It missed. The snarl curdling into a hiss, it concentrated greater power than it had already spent in the first three to fire a fourth projectile.
Its gamble made contact with the car, pushing it into a dangerous angle and causing the entire vehicle to spin around ferociously. Through the eyes of the hybrid, Ghostfreak witnessed what he had started and predicted how it would end. In his calculations, he pictured the car sliding into the lightpost it was careening towards with enough force to kill all the occupants inside. Or that's what he thought would happen as he bitterly reminded himself reality was another situation. While the deaths of Carl and Sandra Tennyson would not matter to him in the end so long as Charmcaster died with them, it did matter if she survived and the others did not, an event which would break his deal with Gwen and have him forced out of her body.
Gritting its teeth, the hybrid cast an enchantment on the car, slowing its speed enough that it only collided into the lightpost and bounded off roughly back onto the road in recoil. It glared cautiously at the three inside, seeing if any of them were about to repay it for its assault. When it appeared there was nothing and sensing they were all alive as it intended, the hybrid hovered towards the rear of the car and set its sights on Hope.
:*:
Hope recovered first.
Her eyes bleary with dizziness from being thrown about in her seat, she shook her head wildly to clear her mind. In the realtime span of a moment, everything that had just happened came to the forefront; where she was, who she was with and why she was afraid for herself and for others. It all rushed back into being as her body shrieked with terror, reminding her that she was battling to stay alive.
A quick glance outside saw the hybrid stalking through the air towards them.
"Carl? Sandra?" she exclaimed to the other two. When all she received was an incapacitated groan from Sandra, Hope thrusted herself forward to examine them in worry.
Carl was outcold. His head was propped unmovingly on his shoulder. Alarmed, Hope tested for his pulse. She exhaled in relief when she was granted a solid, steady rhythm in response.
Sandra was drifting in and out of consciousness, her eyes looking far more dazed than Hope had felt. Hope said her name one more time. Sandra tried to focus; her eyes quaked in recognition of Hope's voice as their owner attempted to summon up a basic form of balance to at least answer, but in the end she fell back with a groan.
Hope bit her lip, glancing back at the hybrid before looking at the two older adults. It was shatteringly obvious to her that Carl and Sandra were neither in a state to fight or defend themselves. She considered going out and meeting the hybrid halfway, but then there was the chance it would use them against her. It was also likely to go the same way if she stayed put, protecting them while defending herself.
In her mind, Hope was led to one conclusion. She fought back tears as she agreed with it and she gazed between two of the people she had unexpectedly become so fond of in recent months. Carl and Sandra had been so surprisingly welcoming to her ever since Ben had introduced her to them as his girlfriend in spite of the two knowing how much bad blood there used to be between her and their son and niece that at first, Hope wondered strangely if she had accidentally travelled to some alternate dimension where a counterpart of her had never battled with the Tennysons at all.
To her shock however, they admitted at the end of that first meeting how nervous they were about Ben dating an old nemesis of his but they had kept that worry to themselves for their son's sake and chose instead to observe and judge her by her interactions with the three of them that day. Sandra then added to the confession the reason why they had expressed the truth to her; they were not fully convinced at that point, but they were on their way to accepting her in Ben's life. Hope interpreted the hidden meaning; if her intentions toward Ben were not good, they would find out and stop her.
From there, Hope sought to earn their acceptance in its entirety. Not once did she try to prove anything in a single grandiose event, but in tiny little actions over time, some of which the person she had been in the years before would have been humiliated in doing.
Helping Ben with his history and maths homework.
Always making sure Ben got back home on time after their dates.
Spending a whole afternoon shopping at the mall with Sandra.
Aiding the family in refurbishing and repainting the house for their annual cleanup.
Washing and waxing the family car alongside Carl and Ben until its surface was gleaming in the sunlight.
There was no hint as to when Carl and Sandra finally believed in her, but it was on one random visit when she came over to the house that the two greeted her with open, honest and genuine smiles and invited her in. The day was spent talking between one another in an engaging conversation as they waited for Ben to return from a hero mission. By the end of it, Hope realised with a warm and happy feeling they were not only accepting her but they were also beginning to view her as a part of the family.
Hope did not know what to think of that back then, as the very last time she had ever truly felt something akin to that was before Adwaita first appeared in her life, took her parents away from her, and left her with her uncle who, dealing with the scars of grief in his own way, was unable to form a loving bond with her until more recently in their lives. But here and now, she knew precisely what to think, her heart agreeing in unison with her mind.
The Tennysons were her family, and she was not going to lose them.
Carefully she wound her arms around their shoulders, gingerly pulling Carl and Sandra into an embrace. Tears once again throttled their way up to burst from her eyes; defiantly, she held them off. Then, as she bravely worked up the courage to leave them, she kissed Carl and then Sandra on the cheek, glancing at them in turn.
"Thank you for everything," she said. "And…tell Ben…I'm sorry."
:*:
Ghostfreak was surprised to say the least as Hope left what he presumed was the safe opportunity of sticking close to the Tennysons and got out of the car to face him as the hybrid. Ignoring the echoes of Gwen trying to scream at the girl to run, he halted his approach and gauged Hope curiously as she stepped away from the damaged vehicle.
He turned from her, staring past the windows to look at Carl and Sandra and wondered to himself if they were setting a trap. A momentary scan of their life signatures told they really were incapacitated, unable to help Hope in any way. Remaining suspicious, he moved back to Hope.
"So, not using human shields?" he asked.
"If I were," Hope responded in a cool fury. "Do you think I would be standing here?"
"Whether you are or aren't is only relevant to Gwendolyn," the hybrid sneered. "It is irrelevant to me. You will die by my hand."
Danger flashed through Hope's eyes. It was now or never. "Then come get me!" she exclaimed boldly, throwing a blast of energy his way.
Surprised yet again, cursing that he had been unaware she was building up an attack, the hybrid dodged the projectile and called upon its own handful of energy.
Hope had vanished.
The hybrid looked to its right. In the time it had used to avoid her attack, the sorceress had taken to the air, chanting a self-flying spell to get her to soar upwards. It almost instantly saw through the move; she was trying to lead him away from the Tennysons. Dismissing a brief thought that it should subvert her plan by holding them hostage and calculating it would finish things faster if it went after her, the hybrid launched off in pursuit.
Its first attempt to bring her down missed completely. The second would have been a perfect hit had Hope not moved to counter it. The third and fourth, she avoided by twisting her body around and continuing on flying. A snarl was starting to form on the hybrid's lips as it fired off a fifth attack; it came into full flourish when Hope countered it. The sixth went as badly as the first.
The seventh hit.
Hope recoiled. The hybrid quickly changed the snarl to a grin and it hurried itself into crafting an eighth attack to send her plunging to the ground. Hope, seeing the blast of energy speeding her way, knew instinctively she did not have enough time to re-establish her flight before the blast struck her. She permitted herself to fall a little, conjuring up a mana platform beneath her as the projectile sailed harmlessly over her.
Enraged that its victory was snatched away from it so easily, the hybrid amped up its rate of attacks, tossing blast after blast at Hope. Borrowing one of Gwen's tactics, Hope sought to escape him again and cultivated a pathway of the mana platforms, and she set off racing over them down the block, calling forth one at a time as she went.
As he chased after her, Ghostfreak figured out for himself that he was never going to hit her as long as his rising fury drove him and he slowed his emotions down enough to plan. He judged the time it took for her to create each platform, his estimates growing narrower in their accuracy the more he watched. When Hope reached the corner of the block, he was certain.
Before she had even created it, he pictured the next platform she was going to make to navigate her turn into the road where Hex's domicile stood seven mere houses away from her. As Hope called for it to materialise, Ghostfreak fired off a beam to destroy it. Then, like a predator waiting to spring upon his helpless prey, he watched and waited.
Hope caught her breath as the next platform appeared before her and she moved to step across onto it and summon the one that would come after. Somewhere inside her senses, a warning was triggered, bringing her to stop for barely a second. It was that second that proved to save her life because, as she realised when the hybrid's mana blast crashed through the platform and shattered it to pieces, she would have taken her other foot off the previous one and presumably planted herself securely on it and then fell as it was destroyed.
Her adrenaline kicked in, her balance swaying fretfully as one foot hung in the air. With no choice forward but open air, Hope leaned back and sought sanctuary on the platform she had been about to vacate. The relieving lull of finding safety lasted a short and brief moment. She turned to keep the hybrid off her trail.
The hybrid had acted already, casting another blast in her direction. Hope made to counter, only to freeze with horror as she discovered from the trajectory it wasn't aimed at her. The jet of light struck true, obliterating the platform out from underneath her. Grinning as he witnessed her being subjected to gravity, the hybrid pushed out its hand and fired a prolonged beam from its palm. The beam caught the tumbling Hope in the back between the shoulder blades, the resulting impact throwing her roughly over the road.
As her body made the final plunge to the ground, Hope waved her hands and loudly muttered the words to a spell. Beneath her, a construct of mana shone into being, taking on the square shape and density of a safety mat. Rolling into a ball, she allowed herself to land and bounced off the mat away from the pavement she had nearly crashed upon and into the grassy frontyard adjoining it. The hybrid stalked its way to her, levitating through the air above the road's surface. Hope spun about, planting her knees to the ground and threw a fireball at the hybrid.
The hybrid dashed to the left and back into its original path once the attack had passed it by.
Hope rose up, standing firmly on her feet. Not allowing the miss to perturb her, she threw a second fireball. The hybrid snarled and leaned on an angle to avoid it. The excitement it had felt at succeeding in grounding Hope starting to sour, it fought back, generating blasts in both hands and hurled one after the other at Hope.
The first hit Hope in the stomach. The sorceress gagged for breath and bent forward, leaving her open and vulnerable to the second throw. Bravely she raised her hand to counter it, but the immense pain the first had put her in and her reaction to it had cost her. The second rammed her, colliding into her chest and forcing her back a step as she gasped for desperate relief.
In a flash, as she drew further away from the hybrid, Hope considered her options. Already her body had begun to be exhausted, her senses wracked in two directions; on one side her adrenaline fought to keep her alert and in the fight, on the other her nerves begged her for rest from the injuries she suffered at Adwaita's hands in the addition to the ones the hybrid had just inflicted. Inside her mind, ideas were created, whirling across her realm of thought, rivalling one another in a bid to be selected as the best course of action. Eventually, in all the tumult, Hope remembered that it was not just Ghostfreak she was fighting, that there was someone else in that twisted form, and she raised her hand imploringly.
"Gwen," she said. The hybrid flinched, proceeding to stop and regarded her curiously. "I know you don't trust me and you don't like the idea of me being with Ben," Hope went on. "But I also know that you're better than this. You've always been the better of the two of us; magic and being a good person. This isn't you, Gwen. The real you would never let Ghostfreak have this much control, ever. I'm willing to bet that right now, you're feeling like you should've seen the bad side to your deal with him coming and you're just screaming to get out. Well, don't stop. Fight him, because regardless of how you feel about me, I want you to know and understand this as truth."
"I don't want to fight you."
She waited, praying inwardly for any kind of effect the hybrid would show that indicated Gwen was renewing her struggle to battle her way through to the surface. The first sign she got, to her sadness, was a sneer that was so clearly Ghostfreak's. Then, as if to further demoralize her hopes, he let out a cold, hissing cackle.
"I have to confess, Charmcaster," Ghostfreak spoke. "You made a far better attempt than Gwendolyn's father. That measly front she just put up to break free felt more bitter. It might interest you to know she's screaming at you to run from me." His sneer faltered, his expression dropping back to its unemotional frown. "The sad truth to it though is that it would not have helped either of you. Thanks to the Halo, I have full dominance of this form. Gwen has no power at all in this fight."
Hope's face shook, her features quivering in a troubled rise of her emotions. She had no way of deciphering completely that Ghostfreak was telling her the truth or not. Her heart hammered like a raging beast as she imagined Gwen helpless, crippled and trapped in her own mind. Hope seethed with hatred, thinking of all Ghostfreak must have done to break through Gwen's walls and gain enough of her trust to allow him passage into her body, all for the purpose of hijacking it in order to kill her.
The sorceress acted, dipping her hand to her satchel and pulling the zipper open. A mental beckoning called upon five golems to her aid. The stone creatures answered their mistress, leaping out in single file.
Ghostfreak was unimpressed. With a muted scoff, his eyes flashed with mana. Hope's golems seized, blowing up all at once. Then he turned to finish Hope off and froze.
Hope was already in the motions of preparing to unleash her next attack. In the air before her, she had conjured a beam of light vertically from her head down to her hip. Ghostfreak reared; shock rooted him to the spot as it became apparent to him that the five golems had only been a distraction. Seeing his reaction, Hope smirked in triumph as she carved out another beam and positioned it horizontally behind the first.
It struck Ghostfreak that he was in danger. Regaining his fighting stance, he plotted to defend himself.
Just in time, Hope sent the vertical beam forward. Changing instantly from its original linear shape to a curved arc, it sped off towards the hybrid. Ghostfreak did not have enough time to howl in denial. The arc slammed home, driving him back over the road. As soon as it vanished from view, Hope directed the horizontal beam to follow.
Ghostfreak tried to recover.
The beam caught him at the waist, wrapping its length around his lower abdomen. This time Ghostfreak did howl as he put up the effort to withstand its power. The duel between sorceror and opposing spell lasted the lifetime of the attack. As it faded quietly away, Ghostfreak's helpless cry lowered gradually in pitch until it gave out as a tired and wounded moan.
His eyes showed a much different response; after he examined his front to survey the damage, he raised his head up and gave Hope a death glare. A snarl rising to his lips again, he threw two more mana blasts out of vengeance. Hope sidestepped them easily and cast one herself at him. Still in the throes of pain from her last attack, Ghostfreak was forced to stand by as the blast hit him in the chest.
The hybrid's form seemed to waver, almost appearing to Hope as though it was losing control of itself. She halted, asking herself if the damage she had done had been enough to depower Ghostfreak to the point that Gwen stood a better chance at taking her body back. A tremor ran through the hybrid. Its eyes bulged as it gasped hoarsely and shrank back. Then, as if some force were pushing it from behind, the hybrid staggered forward and slid to the ground, kneeling on its tail.
Hope edged closer and stepped onto the footpath.
Just as the hybrid wanted.
Fast as lightning, it lifted its head up, showing the malicious grin plastered on its face, and thrust its hands on the road. The hidden field of static stretched out in a thin layer between him and a startled Hope came alive, flaring up into basic sight. A rush of accomplishment ran through the hybrid as it set itself into manipulating the field to its devices. Bolts of deadly energy cracked away from it, spreading across the small area in all directions.
Hope moved to leap safely into the air. The splay of electricity was faster, catching her before she could jump an inch. She screamed, her body jerking in agony as the bolts laced into her. The hybrid rose, prying its claws away from the surface of the road and allowed the power to be cut off. It grinned, watching Hope being electrocuted by the spell as if it was spectating a casual event. In its hand, it readied another blast of mana. The electricity striking through Hope began to dissipate and her body succumbed to a welcoming sense of relief.
It was a relief the hybrid would not permit her to have, as it mercilessly hurled the blast into her. Greeted with the sight of its impact to her chest, he powered up and threw another, aiming it for the head.
Hope raised her hand to counter. None of her magic came in time, and she opted instead to use her hand as a shield. The blast smashed into her palm and knocked her off-balance. Ghostfreak continued the assault with a third and fourth blow, hitting her in the leg and shoulder.
"Oh Charmcaster," Ghostfreak laughed. "I believe this fight is over."
Nursing her wounded shoulder, Hope shot him a dark look. "Don't count on it," she retorted as she put a great deal of her remaining energy into a spell. Ghostfreak stopped out of fear, sensing the transference.
"What are you doing?"
Hope's eyes glowed with mana as the spell was met with the required power. "Infinitus superfundo!"
As she proclaimed the words, dozens upon dozens of miniature rays erupted into being, flying at the hybrid like sharpened darts the moment they appeared. The hybrid braced for impact.
:*:
Away, back at the intersection where Hope and the hybrid's fight had commenced, an ambulance pulled up beside the inert, damaged Tennyson car. Having responded to an anonymous telephone call from a resident who had elected to stay home about the crash, its crew jumped out and raced over to the downed vehicle. Coming to Sandra first, they noticed her delirium. One of them flashed a pencil torch in her eyes.
"Ma'am, can you hear us?" she asked.
Numbly, Sandra bowed her head in answer. "Okay, we're going to get you out," the torch-holding woman replied. Sandra nodded again in understanding.
The responder turned her attention from Sandra to Carl and motioned to two of the other three members in her crew to see to him while she gestured to the remaining one to help her with Sandra. With the window down, they were able to lean in and undo the lock from the inside, and then after opening the car door to its widest extent, they operated with great care in removing Sandra's seatbelt and bundled her safely out of the car and over to the back of their ambulance. There they sat her back down and initiated their examination for possible injuries.
"What do you think?" the woman asked the other for his opinion after they were finished.
"No signs of head trauma or indications of internal injury," he surmised. "No lacerations or broken bones either. Her dizziness could be a symptom of whiplash."
The woman nodded in agreement and ventured inside the ambulance to get a cup of cold water for Sandra. The man resumed his work by checking again for minor wounds.
"Definitely whiplash. There's a slight bruising around the back of the neck and below the shoulders," he confirmed to her as she returned with the clear plastic cup in hand. Regarding his words for a moment, the woman held the water out for Sandra to take. Another spate of dizziness swirling through her brain, Sandra put her hand up, sliding her palm and fingers around the cool surface until she held it in a firm grasp and brought it steadily to her mouth.
"Not too much," the woman said softly to her.
Sandra paused to show she was listening and opened her mouth, tipping a slosh of the water down her throat. The effect was immediate; as she recognised the comforting sense of fulfilment that the liquid gave her, the cloudiness in Sandra's eyes evaporated, curing her state of mind back to almost one-hundred percent in working order. Knowing that she was on the road to recovering, the two responders turned as the second half of their team brought Carl to the ambulance.
"How is he?" the woman asked.
"Mild trauma to the forehead. Judging by the shape, looks like he hit the steering wheel at some point in the crash," one of them answered. "He'll need to be checked out at the hospital."
Sandra looked from the ambulance crew to her husband and then all around them, silently taking in the information about Carl's condition. She blinked numerous times, as if she was trying to remember an obscure fact. Somehow it had gotten into her head that she was forgetting something important. Fighting against the remnants of her nausea, she commanded her memory to take her back to the moment of the crash. What she got at first was a sketchy jumble of flashes; there was the monster ambushing them, Carl attempting to accelerate the car to get them out of harm's way, the car colliding into the lightpost, her being thrown about as she tried to aim a shot at the monster. She stopped there and wondered where the blaster rifle was; a single look in the direction of the car discovered it lying on the road a metre ahead of the crash site. Sandra remembered then she had dropped the weapon when the car had hit the lightpost. Putting the cup of water to the side, she stood up and ran over to collect it.
"Hey!" a voice called out from behind her. Sandra did not need to look back to know it was one of the responders. As she reached the rifle and plucked it up from the ground, her callbacks continued to progress; the moment where she had awoken, felt the dull ache around her collarbone, her eyes swimming with nausea from when the car had been pushed violently to skid into the lightpost. She fought that dizziness, groaning as she did, but gave up as the heavy sensation overwhelmed her and she leaned her head back into the seat, allowing the blurriness to have its run. Then there was something she remembered hearing.
"Thank you for everything, and tell Ben I'm sorry."
She recalled one last item that appeared almost right after that. It was a split-second of clarity brought about by a warm feeling that she now recognised had come from a gentle kiss to her cheek, a momentary glimpse of long silver hair.
Suddenly everything Sandra remembered came crashing into one another, connecting somehow in the mayhem back into their proper order and revealing all that her induced forgetfulness had blotted out. Hope, she realised with rising terror as she looked around where she was standing. Where was Hope?
The terror reached its height as her frenzied search bore no sign of the young woman and she turned to face the members of the ambulance crew. Of the four, three had followed her when she ran, leaving the final one to tend to Carl.
"Where's Hope?" she asked them.
The three looked at each other and then back to her, appearing as if they were wondering confusingly between themselves as to who she was talking about. Beginning to lose her patience, Sandra explained. "We had another person in the car with us. Her name's Hope. Young woman, twenty two years old. Long silver hair. Violet eyes."
Her description registered with the three; their perplexed expressions changed to understanding, which gave Sandra the impression they actually did know who she was talking about but before she could question them over it, they slowly displayed an uncomfortable sense of unease. One of them pointed down the road.
"The eyewitness that saw the accident said she left the car. The monster chased after her, leaving you and your husband alone. They're fighting right now."
Sandra's eyes widened in fear. She circled round and gazed towards the other end of the block. In the distance, at the T-intersection, she saw them. Hope and the Gwen-Ghostfreak hybrid doing battle, positioned on opposite sides of the road, trading blows of magic between them. Vividly, Sandra recalled Hex's concern about his niece fighting so soon after recovery as well as her chances of beating a merged being that consisted of two powerful magic wielders. She gulped down her fear, choosing instead to stay strong and she faced the team of responders again.
"Please tell me one of you knows how to contact the Plumbers?"
"Sorry, ma'am," one of the crew answered. "By government law, we aren't allowed to know their frequencies."
Sandra looked like she wanted to scream. "Why not?!"
"Too many incidents on record where the Plumbers were called in for backup in situations they weren't meant to be a part of. Bank robberies done by humans and things like that."
"Well, what about the all-signal channel? Can't you get in touch with them through that?"
"We could, but the enemy would hear us as well."
"Does it look like they're carrying radios?" Sandra roared.
The three responders blinked, surprised that that had to be pointed out to them. Sheepishly, they grinned in embarrassment and gestured for her to follow them back to the ambulance. Before she did, Sandra shook her head frustrated. Once this battle was over, she was going to petition Max to give her and Carl their own communicator.
Will Sandra succeed in getting in touch with Max? Will the Plumbers be able to send help with all their best fighters caught up in the battle? And how much longer can Hope last before any help arrives? Find out next chapter.
