"So, Red, once we find this Technodrome thing, what's your plan?" Raphael's voice rang out from the front of the procession as April and the turtles trudged through the sewers.
April frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Say we find this thing, whatever it is. Then what? You think the four of us are going to be enough to take down the Shredder's forces to get your friend out of here, if she's still alive?"
"She is still alive," April said fiercely. "Once we find this base, we'll find a way in, and sneak inside. From there, we'll find where she's being held. There has to be a cell block or something. We'll break in, grab her, and break out before the Shredder knows what hit him."
"This is all well and good, April, but supposing he does know what hits him. As Donatello has said, the Shredder has many tricks that we are not accustomed to dealing with. He does not simply come at us with his fists. He is cunning, resourceful. No doubt he will be ready for an attack." Leonardo's steady tones echoed off of the sewer walls. "We may be faced with a fight that we are not prepared to win. We will have to assess the situation before coming up with a strategy." He glanced at April. "Rest assured, we will not let your friend remain in the jaws of the enemy."
"Yeah. We'll rescue her, just like in Star Wars," Michelangelo agreed. "Did you ever see that movie?"
April nodded distractedly. "Spike's not the damsel type. She's probably trying to get out herself."
"I don't know about that." Donatello glanced up from the map grasped between his reptilian fingers. "From what you said about what you heard on the roof, your friend doesn't know the danger she's in. It's logical to assume, from what we know of this Shredder, that he's smart enough to convince her that he's the good guy here. She might believe him."
April shook her head. "You don't know her. She doesn't trust anybody. Nobody but me."
"That might be the key," Leonardo said quietly. "If she believes you to be in danger, perhaps desperation has driven her into trusting the wrong side."
April froze in her tracks, fists at her sides. "I can't believe that."
The turtles stopped, turning around to look at her. Donatello took a hesitant step towards her. "April-"
"You're wrong."
She had no way to explain it, no way to simplify twenty five years of friendship. There was no method to make them feel her gut instinct, to fly in the face of their reason by explaining that Spike wasn't reasonable. She had an insane lack of self-preservation instinct that could be confused with 'bravery'. She was unable to be manipulated, to have her mind changed. The very idea that she would be tricked was impossible.
But when she opened her mouth to try to boil her flurry of incredulous, angry thoughts down, all that came out was:
"Let's just keep going."
"Agreed. The sooner we find your friend, no matter the circumstance, the better," Leonardo agreed. "And then you will hold up your end of the bargain."
April lifted her chin. "Yeah. One step at a time, okay?" She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, shivering at the chill in the sewers. "Remember, I still need a story out of all of this."
"Without mentioning us," Michelangelo added.
"C'mon guys, what are you, swimming in cement? Let's pick up the pace here!" Raphael cried. "Let's go!"
The trudge through the sewers took less time than it would have had they been above ground, but it still felt like hours. April struggled to resist the nagging urge to check her watch in the cracks of light from the surface above as the drag of time seemed to press in on her, almost suffocating her. Her thoughts were loud, screaming echoes of the words Leonardo had spoken battling with decades of experience. He was wrong. He had to be.
Shaking her head, she raised her voice. "How much further?"
Donatello glanced up from his map, frowning with confusion.
"Actually, we're right on top of it. According to the map of the city you brought, we're right underneath the building." He turned slightly, pointing to the slightly crumpled ceiling. "See, there's the foundation coming through, where the building collapsed above. But there's nothing here."
"Nothing?" April repeated.
"That's impossible," Raphael exclaimed, coming to his brother's side. "Let me see."
"I'm serious! There's nothing here!" He gestured at the cavernous interior of the sewers and the river of sewage. "See? Totally empty. Where could a vast, subterranean compound go down here?"
"Maybe it can teleport," Michelangelo suggested. "Like that machine the guy was building in The Fly! Or Star Trek!"
"No, that's just a little too unbelievable."
"More unbelievable than talking mutant turtles?" April asked skeptically.
Donatello grinned sheepishly. "You have a point. But still, this technology, even with what we've seen from the Shredder so far, it just doesn't exist! Not even prototypes! It's impossible."
"I don't think it was a teleportation device," Leonardo called. "Come look at this." He gestured at a side tunnel, splitting off from the main sewer system. "What do you think, Donatello?"
April peered at the tunnel, frowning. "So, it's got dirt instead of stone for walls. What is it?"
"We know these tunnels like we know the backs of our shells, and as of last time I checked, this tunnel didn't exist," Donatello said.
"Look!" Michelangelo pointed at the floor of the yawning, cavernous tunnel. "Tread marks!"
"Looks like a tank came through here," Raphael observed. "What do you think, Leonardo?"
What a story!
The thought came to April's mind unbidden, almost instinctive as she stared at the marks on the tunnel floor. For an instant, she could see Burne Thompson behind his desk, looking pleased with her for the first time in her career. She could see Vern Fenwick, green with envy as she finally got the major news slot for Channel 6. She'd be respected. Irma would be so proud.
And Spike…..
April lifted her chin. "Come on. We've gotta follow it." She took a step forward, intently starting towards the new tunnel.
Leonardo reached towards her, grasping at her upper-arm and tugging her back. "Wait. We must tell Master Splinter about this."
April frowned, turning on her heel. "What?"
"He's right. This is unprecedented," Donatello agreed. "My guess is, that's the trail of the Technodrome, and if it is, we need a plan. Now that we know that we'll be able to track it easily, we need a plan."
"We're wasting time!" There was a large part of April that wanted to stamp her foot, as immature as it was. "Don't you get that?"
"Yes, I do." Leonardo released her arm. "But charging into this without knowing how far ahead of us it is, or how to get in, isn't going to help your friend. We could waste hours or longer following it."
"So what do we do?" Michelangelo asked.
Leonardo rubbed at his chin. "We'll go back to the lair to tell Master Splinter and seek his guidance about what to do next."
"Great. What do I do?"
Donatello turned towards April. "You can go to the surface and find out if there's been any strange tremors, and where they'd be coming from. That can help us narrow down a location, and maybe figure out a trajectory if it's still moving. We'll meet you up there."
April crossed her arms. "Oh, no you don't. If you guys come up to the surface by yourselves, who knows what danger you'd be in! Someone could see you!"
"Relax, April," Raphael drawled. "We still got those disguises you got us. We'll lay low. Besides, it'd be quicker than waiting for you to try to find your way through the sewers alone again."
They had a point.
April bit her lip. "Fine. Meet me outside the Channel 6 newbuilding, in the alleyway. Try not to draw attention to yourselves!"
"Don't worry," Michelangelo said reassuringly. "We're ninja. Stealth is our middle name!"
April grimaced. "I sure hope so."
"Well, then," Raphael said, glancing around at the group. "What are we waiting for? Let's split up, gang!"
She couldn't think. Her head was heavy from lack of sleep, food, and water. She couldn't even tell how many days it'd been since she and April had first been chased into the sewers. Her body was running on fumes.
But she could push herself a little while longer.
She couldn't think. Her head was heavy from lack of sleep, food, and water. She couldn't even tell how many days it'd been since she and April had first been chased into the sewers. Her body was running on fumes.
But she could push herself a little while longer.
Spike stood at the door to the armory, watching with bleary vision as the door slid open, just as it had before. She stepped through, almost staggering into the room, craning her neck to glance around the respectable array of weapons. Again, she found her gaze drawn to the heavy kanabō weapon. She stepped towards it, blinking against the bright light, reflecting off of the many blades in the room, wrapping her hands around the thick handle. She took a deep breath, hauling it out of its resting place.
The weight of the weapon barely swayed her as she held it up in front of her. The smooth handle felt natural in her hands. She twisted the weapon slowly, watching the spikes on the end rotate with it. She dropped her elbows, allowing the weapon to rest in front of her, comfortably. The strain in her arms and her grip was almost comforting.
She took a step to her right, swinging the kanabō like a baseball bat, a wild exhilaration flooding her veins, melting the exhaustion away for a brief moment. Her thin lips stretched back over her teeth as she moved, swinging again in an upward motion.
Her eyes drifted shut, burning as they closed, and she moved again.
Gradually, she put more force into her swings, more effort into ducking, dodging, twisting away, trading blows with an imaginary opponent. Her breath came faster, sweat beading her forehead as the cool metal in her hands warmed and grew slick.
It felt good.
Torn between a grimace from exertion and a grin of exhilaration, Spike's eyebrows knitted together as her muscles bulged with effort, a comforting feeling among all of the strangeness. She ducked under the swing of an imaginary katana blade, bringing her heavy weapon down. In her mind's eye, the blades of her faceless opponent shattered, sharp metal splintering the chrome floor.
Monsters...
Hun's words hammered away at her concentration, slowly morphing her opponent in her mind into a scaly, shelled creature with powerful, strong jaws-
Her eyes snapped open, wide as a gasp stole the air out of her lungs. The kanabō faltered in it's swing, the weight pulling her weakening frame off-balance. She crashed to her knees, chest heaving. For a moment, she thought she could feel the Technodrome's movements under her, until she realized she was shaking uncontrollably.
They…took O'Neil…
The kanabō clattered to the ground before her as her arms dropped to support her weight, her stomach and chest constricting terribly. Nausea made the room swim before her eyes, turned her blood to ice as she gulped in air, trying to clear her head. She swallowed hard, trying to unstick her dry tongue from the roof of her mouth, inwardly cursing her weakness.
There was no point in going over the mistakes she might have made, alternate courses that might have ended better. All that mattered now was getting out, finding April. Trying to save her.
I was supposed to protect you!
The thought was an agonized scream now, pounding through her aching head. She had to get up, try to do something, anything but just collapse-
Her arms gave out beneath her, her scarred cheek colliding with the cold metallic floor. The stitched-together flesh burned with the contact, a stabbing pain that swallowed up her other senses as she fought to tamp it down. Her eyes closed again, too heavy to open again. Visions of April, lost in the dark, alone, cluttered her limited imagination. A terrible combination of fear and exhaustion drug her limbs down, hammered at her head. Her temples throbbed as she reached her hand out blindly, calloused palm grasping the pommel of the kanabō, white-knuckled grip forcing a little life back into her arms.
She was no good to April like this.
Spike gritted her teeth at the thought, forcing her muscles to move. Slowly, achingly, she opened her eyes, pushing herself back to her hands and knees, dragging the kanabō underneath her. Her palm slid against the floor, smearing sweat on the silver metal. Her empty stomach churned as she forced herself to one knee, turning the kanabō on end. She grasped it with both hands, leaning heavily on it as she sucked in a lungful of cold, sterile air.
She couldn't afford weakness. Not now. April was counting on her.
She heard the hiss of the doors as they parted. Spike craned her neck slowly, grime-crusted fringe of hair hanging in her eyes. Her gaze focused on the familiar pair of silver boots, motionless in the doorway.
"Well?" she rasped. The word scraped at her dry throat, tore at her dehydrated tongue.
"I have discussed the recent developments with my partner, and have decided upon a course of action. In order to combat these monsters, we must create more powerful mutants of our own."
Spike jerked her head up, focusing suspiciously on the masked face of Oruku Saki.
The Shredder raised his gauntlet, letting the light reflect meaningfully off of his blades. "I would advise you to follow me. I may have use of you."
Spike leaned on the handle of the kanabō, pushing off of it to rise to her feet. "When y'get these better mutants, what're y'gonna do with 'em?" she croaked.
"Once we obtain these superior warriors, we shall hunt down the monsters that have taken Ms. O'Neil, and we shall destroy them, and Hamato Yoshi with one swift stroke." He turned, cape billowing behind him. "Come. There is much to do."
Hey guys, sorry this took so long! The semester's back into swing, and I've been swamped from the holidays on, but I'll try to be more regular now! Please, leave a review to let me know what you thought, it really helps me keep writing. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you all in the next chapter!