A couple of them saw her. One fell back a few paces, nearly running from the room. The other pulled his gun and started to fire in her direction. She caught the bullets easily, then casually let them fall to the floor. The rest turned when the second man began to fire, saw her, and opened up as well.

"Well, the diversion part is working out rather nicely," she thought to herself as she ducked behind a car. Bullets whizzed overhead, and she could hear the sounds of the bullets impacting the other side of the car through her back. She sat there for a minute, not sure what to do now that she had their attention.

She wished that she had managed to get a little more sleep last night. She was obviously tired, moving in slow motion, not prepared for this at all. She sighed, then rolled to the front of the car and stood, arms outstretched, hands posed. Index fingers and thumbs were mated to make a diamond, and the rest of her fingers were held as if she were grabbing the circumference of a ball almost too large for them to hold.

Balls of light came streaming forth, all of one color, a sickly orange-green hue. They were bright enough to cast shadows, even in the well-illuminated garage, and she sent them towards the men shooting at her.

They drifted in a lazy fashion, mostly in a plane but not in a very straight line. A few bullets were sent towards them, but had no effect, the metal slug passing through without changing them in the least. A couple men broke and ran for a door when they grew nearer, fearing whatever they might bring.

As they got closer to the men, Anne made them pulse, a slow strobe that grew faster with the decreasing distance. Looking at what she was doing made her a bit queasy, the swirling colors reminding her of oil on water, but without any of the rainbows.

One finally reached a man, touched him, enveloped him. He had enough time to say, "Hey, this isn't anything!" before Anne shocked him, pulling static from the air and pushing it through his body. His hair stood on end, then he screamed, one long, loud, tortured sound before collapsing to the floor.

Four more men ran for the door, two dropping their guns in their desire to not be seen as a threat. One man aimed at her head, and she sent one of the globes over to him. His knees knocked a bit, but his aim never wavered as he shot a full clip at her. She caught them all, then tossed them at his prone form. The second globe had reached him as the last bullet left the chamber.

Another man left.

The rest didn't seem to quite know what to do. Bullets weren't working, but no one wanted to get near her to try anything else. There was some discussion, mostly involving hand-waving and vehement denials, and Anne moved up onto the hood of the car, sitting cross-legged as she took out one of the men in the middle of the group.

It was almost fun watching them back up, quickly putting as much distance between the thrashing man and themselves as possible. She picked off another one, then another, and watched the ones who were left begin an almost orderly withdrawal to the door.

Pushing off the hood of the car, she wandered over to one of the men. She glared at the few huddled in the door for their bad form, for leaving their wounded behind. Of course, the fact that they were still covered by the sickly orange glow might have had something to do with it, but still. Very bad form.

"Stay away from him, you monster," was screamed from the door. She ignored the advice, just as she ignored the bullets sent her way. She did grab one right before it hit the man on the floor in front of her. That got her to look over her shoulder and glare.

She reached a hand down into the glow and rested it on the man's forehead. Good; there had been no damage done. The light couldn't have hurt him at all, the static only startled him, and the unconsciousness… that was her doing as well. Three things, none connected, but the fear…

She stood and looked towards the door again. If her aim was to scare them, she had succeeded. But it wasn't. Her aim was to keep them occupied, to keep them away from Meryl and Ace. With that in mind, she stood and walked back to the vehicles. She leaned over and started to flatten as many tires as she could, twisting off the cap and letting the air hiss out.

She could have just popped them, but tires were hard to come by, there being few rubber trees on this planet. And the vehicles were needed for routine plant maintenance. Destroying them would be pointless. This should slow them enough.

"Dammit, Anne," echoed through the garage.

She stood up, wiping the dirt on her hands down the front of her shirt and pulling the ugly lights closer to her.

"Yes, Mark?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He limped closer, then stopped a few feet from her.

"Providing a distraction."

"This is one hell of a distraction. Did you kill them?"

"No."

"What the hell are you?"

She sighed. "I would think that's obvious."

"I want to hear you say it."

She looked at him, silent.

"Say it!" he screamed.

She said nothing, unable to.

He walked closer and grabbed the collar of her shirt.

"Say it," he demanded, glaring, staring into her eyes..

She swallowed, opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed again. "I'm the one who killed your cousin," she said softly, finally. She didn't drop her gaze, knowing that having to see the hurt in his eyes was only a small part of what she deserved. But her heart still twisted, and she made no move to block the cane that smashed on the side of her head, then knocked her out after only a few more minutes.

The orange lights faded as she did, but Mark kept pummeling her long after they went out.