Chapter 1.6
Friday, April 8th 2011
"You're going to need backup for this one," Stratego observed; his was the only voice I had unmuted at the moment. "No amount of recon and planning will make the risk worth the potential reward."
I get it, they keep a rotation of their Capes on hand around the clock. There just isn't a clean option here, not solo.
"If you go into this alone, there is a very good chance we'll have XVI before the night is through."
You just want me to return to the Teeth.
"Ideally? Yes. However, I appreciate what you've accomplished, and I don't want to risk XVI being another meathead or bloodlust driven neanderthal." His words brought me up short. "Please Taylor, don't throw your life away on this."
I grit my teeth in frustration as I paced in my workshop, mostly because I knew Stratego was right and it hurt. The Empire simply ran a tighter ship than the ABB. The few places I'd located were either too small to be worth the time and effort, or they were major hubs with an army's worth of normals and several Capes to defend them.
I would need a team if I wanted to accomplish anything of worth in my crusade against the Bay's resident racist dickheads. Unfortunately, the heroes I met never seemed willing to work with me, most treated me like a ticking time bomb about to snap. Others however… my respect for New Wave all but died after meeting Brandish.
"In all fairness, she's had a stick up her ass since the Brigade days," Sanguine said.
"More like our damn minigun," Alkaline joked.
"She can keep it then," Butcher said.
I couldn't help but snort, and soon we all began to laugh. Brandish really had been a colossal bitch when we met yesterday afternoon, insisting she was going to arrest me for excessive force and destruction of property. The Butchers had been particularly unhelpful at that meeting, especially Sabertooth, suggesting a string of extremely distracting lewd comments. I understood that they didn't like the Brigade, but there was a smidgen of begrudging respect for being the only heroes to have survived in the city since the Teeth left.
Unfortunately for Brandish, her complaints fell upon the deaf ears of the Protectorate. I had tentatively hoped that the heroes were finally warming up to me, only for the Butchers to point out the heroes' fixation on my new weapons. The machete at my hip and numerous knives on my new thigh harness were far from the best I could create, but I still had yet to get a good forge set up. I was also carrying several of the handguns I'd recovered from the ABB to use in a pinch, each in easy reach. Lastly, my personal favorite: a folding compound bow I'd Tinkered up from a store-bought hunting bow.
"What can we say, we appreciate being armed to the Teeth." Alkaline said with a chuckle. I let out an audible groan.
It might have been excessive, but after Oni Lee, I wasn't going around unarmed anymore.
"It wouldn't have been such a joke if her daughter's PHO nickname wasn't Collateral Damage Barbie," Chisel said while evoking the memory of a montage video that had been set to an Aleph song about wrecking balls. I started chuckling to myself, which turned into another full-fledged laughfest in my head.
It was strange — I was starting to consider some of the voices to be my friends, or at least people I could talk to without being mocked or scorned. Mostly. And I wasn't even crazy, because there really were voices in my head.
"You should hit one of the smaller Empire holdings tonight," Alkaline suggested.
"The Empire needs to know that the Butcher still stalks them," Sabertooth said, sending the impression of a predatory grin with his words.
Alright, but just the one. I need to get out to Coil's territory to start getting information on him as well.
"He's just a nobody with a lot of cash," Knockout said.
Who holds territory without any known capes, I snapped back. I refuse to be caught off guard because we dismissed him as a threat.
"Finally," Stratego said with relief. "I've been insisting he was a threat since the Teeth returned to the Bay."
"Waste of time, chasing ghosts," Sabertooth grumbled.
I'd rather go on a fool's errand than be blindsided.
Several more of the Butchers grumbled at that, but no outright arguments came. They were learning that once I set my mind to something, they had better have a damn good argument if they wanted to change my opinion.
It still surprised me how swiftly I could move around the city with Pyro's teleport — my bugs just made it almost broken. Less than five minutes later, I was in position; my bugs were ready and waiting, everyone was tagged, it was time.
So of course my phone began to ring.
"Who even has your number?" Chisel asked.
I looked at the display. The PRT apparently. The response was universal from the chorus: "Don't answer it!" However, I was curious, and that won out over caution. Besides, it was just a phone call, what harm could they do to me through a phone connection?
"More than you think," Chisel murmured.
"Hello, Weaver speaking."
"Weaver, just who we were hoping to reach," a gruff but feminine voice said. "My name is Emily Piggot, Director of the Protectorate ENE. I was hoping you were available to attend a briefing about threats in the Bay and to offer your input on some of our ideas for neutralizing said threats."
"Need I point out that you would be considered one of those threats?" Alkaline said, but I pushed her aside.
"Why me? Your people haven't been exactly welcoming so far."
She chuckled mirthlessly. "No, I suppose they haven't. I admit that I was… skeptical, I suppose, when I first read the reports after you took out Quarrel and Lung. That being said, you've proven effective at cleaning up the rest of the ABB. We have an opportunity here to take decisive action and I don't want to waste it."
The Butchers were crying out but I batted them back into the dark. They had always been against me being a hero. Finally, finally, someone was taking notice of my accomplishments! I wasn't about to waste the opportunity either. "When would this briefing take place?"
"Tonight, if possible," Director Piggot said. "Some of our information is time sensitive. Furthermore, New Wave will also be in attendance."
The mention of New Wave put me on edge. "I'm not, um, on the best terms with Brandish at the moment," I said sheepishly. "She tried to arrest me yesterday, after I took out that Empire safehouse."
"I'm aware. I can assure you we'll take every precaution necessary to ensure a mistake like that isn't repeated."
Something about the way she had worded that still left me unsettled. "Would it be possible to hold this meeting somewhere other than PRT or Protectorate HQ? I'm not going to lie, I'm uneasy about being in an enclosed space with a bunch of trigger-happy heroes."
Piggot hummed and went silent for a moment, I heard several seconds of keystrokes before she replied. "That shouldn't be much of a problem. I'll pass the word along to New Wave. Can you make it here in the next hour?"
I grinned. "I think I can manage that."
"Excellent. I look forward to meeting you, Weaver." The line went dead and I had to resist the urge to squeal in excitement.
"You are aware that Brandish will be present," Damascian reminded me. I stuck my tongue out, which was hampered by my mask.
"Everything about this suggests it is a set up Taylor… Please don't go," Stratego pleaded.
If I don't go it will look even worse. I need to do this if I'm going to be recognized as a hero. Besides, you all said I needed a team if I was going to take on the Empire, and this is my chance!
"Your naivety is going to be the death of you," Sanguine said.
Rather than continue to argue with the collective I instead reached out to my bugs, targeting one in the general direction of the PRT HQ and set out with a crack of displaced air and flame. I would make this work, I just had to…
"This is so obviously not a trap that it loops right back around into being one," Stratego said as I looked around the parking lot.
"It does appear to be a bit too on the nose to not have Thinker support involved in some fashion," Damascian agreed.
The parking lot was almost empty, just a few cars and PRT vans here and there with a couple of folding tables set up in the most open area of the lot. I could see Miss Militia, Brandish, Lady Photon and an overweight woman with short blonde hair that I assumed to be Director Piggot gathered around along with a few PRT troopers. My bugs didn't report anything else nearby, though I had barely begun scouting the inside of the PRT building.
"It isn't too late to run, kid," Fester said.
I'm not running, but I agree that a measure of caution should be taken.
"Holy shit, she can learn!" Knockout declared.
Asshole.
I focused on my bugs, drawing in a small swarm of gnats and other hard to notice bugs and keeping them spread loosely around me; some wasps were diverted to hide in the recesses of my costume as well as in my hair.
"Not a bad idea. Might want to start doing that in civvies as well," Alkaline said.
I nodded absently; that was a good idea, especially if I intended to return to Winslow at any point. Although, if things went well with the heroes, I might be able to eventually get a transfer to Arcadia. Rumors were just that, but most people agreed that there were Wards at Arcadia and that the PRT had considerable pull at the school.
Precautions taken, I stepped off the rooftop and began to walk into what was likely a trap. Miss Militia noticed me first, and I watched her gun momentarily shift to what the Butcher's memories told me was a semi auto shotgun before it shifted back to a knife and was returned to a sheathe on her back. Her fidgeting caused both members of New Wave to look up, as well as the director.
"Weaver. I'm glad you made it," Director Piggot said, her voice level.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," I said cheerfully. Miss Militia and Brandish shared a look at my tone but didn't comment. "I've been trying to do what I could out there, but I've run into a few things that I can't do alone. Having some friends would be nice."
"It's good that you've learned to recognize your limits," the director said approvingly. "You've gotten results in your little campaign, and while I can certainly respect that, you have been rather… erratic. We were afraid you might bite off more than you could chew."
"It would certainly be easy enough to do that with the Empire. The place I was staking out earlier had no less than six capes working security tonight." I shook my head. "Too much even for me, with no backup and trying to avoid killing them."
"They're buttering you up, getting ready to drop something on you," Ironsides said.
"You have good instincts," Lady Photon replied, but I could see a hint of sadness in her expression.
"I'm not eager to become a voice in someone else's head," I said with a shrug, then I snorted at one of Pyro's jokes and decided to repeat it. "It's not quite as exclusive of a club as it once was."
Brandish looked at me with something resembling horror, but I saw Piggot's lip curl up ever so slightly. At least someone appreciates your humor, Pyro. Surprisingly, the voices only responded with a few distracted huffs.
"Several of the directors have expressed concerns to me, concerning your behavior. The more extreme tried to claim it meant you had already fallen into the deep end. I'm glad to see you have a good head on your shoulders. Hopefully this meeting will be productive then."
"They're playing you right now," Stratego said. "Have they said anything at all that wasn't directly related to you yet?" I froze at that and no, they hadn't. "I fear the purpose of this meeting wasn't strategies to deal with the issues at large, but to deal with you specifically."
"So," I said carefully. "I take it you want my input on the Empire targets I've scouted?"
"That would be useful," Director Piggot said. "However, I'm afraid there's a more pressing issue we need to discuss first."
A pit formed in my stomach as I sought out the farthest bug that I could, but then they all suddenly vanished from my senses as the world seemed to close in around me. Immediately I had my nuisance bugs start spreading out to give me a sense of the twisted space that now filled the parking lot.
"Vista," Damascian hissed.
"We told you it was a trap!" Ironsides roared.
"And you walked right into it like a dumbass!" Sabertooth added.
"What is this?" I growled towards the assembled so-called good guys, the bugs in my hair humming in sync with my voice as they took flight. "Explain."
Director Piggot sighed. "Dammit, I was hoping to ask this first before we had to use any countermeasures. Weaver, you possess a unique opportunity to remove the Butcher as a threat permanently. We would like for you to submit yourself to our custody and be placed in a secure facility."
"Oh sweet hell… They're wanting you to Birdcage yourself," Fester said shakily.
The chorus erupted at that, and much as I didn't want to at the moment, I silenced them all. I needed my head clear right now. "What facility would you be sending me to?"
"YOU CAN'T BE FUCKING SERIOUS!" several voices roared, exploding into my head with enough presence that I winced. Even Chisel was yelling, screaming for my attention and rattling my brain like the cage of feral animals it now resembled. I did my best to wrangle them into the darkness, but their outrage and horror was filling my otherwise-numb emotional void — somehow, I knew Fester was right, but —
Director Piggot sighed, unaware of the mental firestorm my brain had become and my half hearted attempts to put it out. "You would be sent to the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center."
Her admission — they really wanted me gone that badly? Wasn't I a hero? — was like an erupting volcano in the cold, icy corner of my brain that was still my own. I clenched my hands hard enough to hear the armor panels creak (the bugs in my hair tangled themselves up in their panic), then SHOVED all of the voices into the void.
They went, but their outrage remained.
Much like how Dad would still be here if the heroes dumped me into the Birdcage.
The heroes wanted me, a hero — a fifteen year old girl whose only crime was finally putting down the monsters in my hometown — to lock myself in a box.
Just like those bitches at school.
My response came out in a hoarse whisper. "No."
"Please consider this carefully, Weaver. Whoever comes after you might not be a hero, or they might not have your unique ability to control the voices. You need to take advantage of this —"
I was barely aware when my hand slammed onto the table, causing the three heroes to jump and level weapons at me — Brandish hefted a pair of glowing axes, Lady Photon's hands came alight with purple energy, and Miss Militia took aim with a frighteningly large shotgun. "No! The PRT wants to take advantage of me!"
"Traitors!" Fester's shout echoed up from the depths of my mind.
Piggot held up her hands in a placating gesture that rang hollow. "By doing this, you would be one of the greatest heroes in the history of the Protectorate, ensuring that the Butcher never harms another innocent civilian."
"You'll be the hero? No. She will be the hero. The PRT will be the ones getting credit for taking down the Butcher. No one would even remember your name!" Ironsides bellowed, rising up from the dark.
Piggot's matter-of-fact tone was what finally set me off, but my anger didn't explode. No, it fed on the hurricane of panic and despair in my mind, the storm whose eye I had been trying to occupy with my thoughts. "Do you have any idea what you're asking me to do? I'm not even sixteen yet! I was bullied — every single day! — until I triggered with these horrible powers," what little I had of my swarm swirled around me as I felt my eyes sting with tears, "and I still tried to be a hero! Now you want to send me to hell on earth for trying to be the better person!? Even after I inherited, I never so much as landed a fly on any of the people who… who —"
I couldn't breathe.
The world was closing in on me.
People were talking, in my head, nearby… but I didn't hear it. I was trapped, unable to focus; the world around me turned to static, empty yet clouded. The monsters in my mind rattled in their cage, and I grasped for something — anything — that would help. My hands were wet, what insects I had buzzed, I felt fangs in my mouth; I clenched my hands and the wetness began to decay. Then a cold spray hit me and I was engulfed in liquid.
I tried to fight, but the ooze solidified.
I tried to teleport, but the space nearby was knotted and tangled.
Then I was in the locker, with voices screaming and laughing and there was a high-pitched sound and my brain —
Let me out!
"Stop screaming, assholes!"
I didn't want to die.
"Taylor!"
Someone… anyone…
I was wet and cold, and it was hard to breathe. And when I did breathe, it brought the scent of rotting, festering blood to my nostrils.
"TAYLOR!"
The piercing cries for help ceased and there were no other voices, an incongruous moment of blissful silence.
"Oh thank god. Taylor, please focus. We won't let this be how your story ends." A girl's voice, one I recognized.
A friend.
Alkaline?
A relieved chuckle echoed out. "Yeah girl, it's me. Glad to have you back."
What happened? I remember that bitch asking me to… I let out a choked sob. Why does this shit always happen to me?
"Not sure and definitely not the time. You spiraled pretty hard there and they foamed you. You used a few different powers in your panic, hence the… unpleasantness. Vista still has the space around us as a funhouse mirror, so we need to think of another way out of this mess before Armsmaster brings out his next gadget."
What good does it do me? Even if I escape they'll continue to hunt me like a villain…
"Hey, none of that defeatist attitude," Fester cut in. "You have us, and I can tell you right now, we will never abandon you."
"Not that we could if we wanted to," Butcher grumbled.
"Butcher, for once, just shut the fuck up!" Alkaline hissed. "We all agreed I'd do the talking, so let me handle this, alright?"
You're cooperating? Without me forcing it?
"Desperate times," Alkaline chuckled. "When you started to panic, they foamed you. Armsmaster is a Tinker, and he has probably been working out a way to sedate you safely ever since you inherited. Or, they're securing a transport to the Birdcage. Once I'm sure you've got your head back on your shoulders, we can work on a plan."
What if they're right? A few groans followed by a shushing sound. Without support, I can't help this city, not on my own — and the heroes just demonstrated that they'll never work with me.
"Well, if you're looking for a team…"
No, I'm not going to the fucking Teeth.
"Taylor, could you just hear me out?" Alkaline's voice was pleading, I tried to nod but couldn't in the foam. She understood all the same. "Yes, they're villains, but they would be your villains. The Butcher controls the Teeth and they all know it. If they protest, you beat them down till they fall in line or they become the new Butcher. If you don't like how things are run, change it. They'll never be heroes like you wanted, but you could certainly use them to take over the city and rule it your way. The old way certainly hasn't worked out so well, maybe your touch is exactly what this city needs."
A sob wrenched its way out of my chest. What would dad think of me if I became a villain? What about mom? I don't want to become something that would have disappointed her.
A sharp laugh echoed through my mind. "Girl." Fester. "You forget that I knew your mom. We were in the same gang." She sent a memory of the two of them throwing molotovs at cop cars, bricks through the windows of some sexist company, and violently beating a rapist. "She was a card carrying villain, because she thought it was how she could do the best for her city, how she could make a difference… because she thought it was the right thing to do. Nothing says you can't be the same as your mom. You always looked up to her, but this was part of who she was."
I wanted to argue against that, to cling to my desire to do good, to be a hero… Mom had never hidden her past from me, just some of the details, promising that she would elaborate once I was old enough… She was gone now, but I was still here. I was her legacy, that piece of her she left behind to make a mark on the world.
A high-pitched whining sound suddenly came from outside the foam, followed by Vista's space warping shifting in a way I struggled to parse. The whining increased in volume until it was accompanied by the sound of a tornado.
"Jet engine," Ironsides hissed. "Which means Dragon sent a transport to take us directly to the Cage." The realization set off a new round of clamouring to do something.
Fuck. I didn't want to go into that hell on earth. I just wanted to help people. Could I do that as Butcher XV? Could I turn the Teeth into something that was good for the Bay? I didn't know, but all I could do was try. It was better than rolling over for these bastards that wouldn't even give me a chance. I'd show them all what a mistake they had made.
I reached out for my swarm, finding only a small number of bugs… but they were still there. On the very edge of Vista's nausea-inducing effect, further than I thought my power reached, I discovered a handful of gnats; I targeted one and teleported, which dropped me onto a roof more than three blocks from the original ambush site.
Smiling in relief with the cheers in my head, I lurched to my feet, sparing a single glance for the scene behind me. Protectorate, Wards, and New Wave surrounded an Escher-like maze of twisted space that came unraveled as I watched. A Dragon transport appeared with Piggot and the table, with a freezer-sized blob of foam halfway up the ramp into the machine.
Of course, my teleport was the opposite of subtle. There was panicked shouting from the parking lot, followed by my danger sense flaring and the crack of a massive rifle. I tried to teleport again, but it wasn't ready and I was knocked off my feet by the backhand of god to my shoulder. My shoulder panel shattered from the impact. I barely managed to turn the fall into a roll in time to dodge a barrage of blinding lights crashing down around me as I sprung up to my feet.
Turning my back on my would-be prison, I bolted across the roof. More bugs had entered my range, so I grabbed hold of what I could and jumped to the furthest point I could sense, trying to get away even as space continued to warp and another shot rang out.
As I got my bearings from my jump, I could see New Wave's fliers fanning in the distance to watch for me, looking for the telltale flash of my teleport. It wasn't just Lady Photon anymore — others had joined them, but I couldn't tell who from three blocks away. I also didn't care too much at the moment.
I couldn't afford to sit still with how quickly they could cover ground, but neither could I safely teleport in the open. An idea struck me when I felt a bug in one of the places I would usually try to ignore — an abandoned bathroom. Bracing myself to once again be in a dark, enclosed space, I hoped that the walls would mute the explosion and block the flash. I repeated the trick as soon as my teleport recharged, moving from sequestered closet to unused office basement across the city.
A dozen jumps later and I found myself in the old trainyards, finally far enough that I felt I could relax for a moment. I set my bugs to cleaning my costume of the rotting blood I'd inadvertently covered myself in from Alkaline's hammerspace and rotted with Fester's power, but my mind was elsewhere as I considered the ramifications of what I was about to do.
Could I actually lead the Teeth?
How would I lead the Teeth?
Damascian must have sensed my confusion. "Your first order of business is a show of force. Following that, take refuge in audacity. You will find that the Butcher can flaunt the rules that so bind other capes, and it can be… amusing, at times."
Her declaration set off a round of cheers in my head, and I didn't even bother to mute them for it. "I'm not going to kill people."
"Perhaps not, but living well is the best revenge."
If the heroes weren't going to let me be anyone but Butcher XV, then I was going to be the most badass Butcher the Teeth had ever seen. Hell, I had already wiped out the ABB, something the heroes had long since given up on attempting. With planning and a team at my back, the Empire would crumble, too.
But that was all later. Tonight, I had a party to crash and an entrance to make. I intended for it to be memorable.
Brockton Bay had no idea what the heroes had awakened tonight, and even if I didn't think I had it in me to be a villain, I had the memories of those who were villains. I could certainly fake it. I would make this work.
I had to.
Sorry, dad. I hoped that I wouldn't come to regret this decision.
I would do what was necessary, even if I hated every minute of it.
I would become the Butcher in truth.
Me, Taylor Hebert.
Weaver.
Butcher XV.