And the rock cried out, "No hiding place."
"What do you mean we can't go home?" Bonnie said, angrily. The bus had come back, with most of the team on it, and dumped them off at the hospital…including their teacher who was currently being sedated. She was no Mr. Barkin.
"The Governor has declared a 24 hour curfew, and I don't have the officers to take you all home." He said, far more patiently then he felt. Dawn was rising, and he looked over to the windows where you could see the glow of Downtown Middleton…and the glow of the several fires that now graced it. Some were under control, some weren't—because some genius had discovered how fun sniping at fire fighters could be.
"I expect you to obey the orders of the hospital staff and any police on the premises." He continued turning and walking off to forestall any stupid questions. Unfortunately, there was another hurdle.
Mr. Possible.
"Officer…" He said diffidently. "About my daughter and th-"
"Look, Possible." He said, "I know your daughter flipped out, I know she's supposed to turn herself in…but can it wait until the city isn't burning down? She's not a flight risk and she can keep. Now, if you'll excuse me, someone firebombed the Lowerton Social Hall, and they want me to go and try and catch them. Again."
Stupid git, I could take this gun out and blow him aw-
Where the HELL did that thought come from? God, I need to rest…
Dr. Possible watched as the police officer left the lobby, actually weaving a little. He shook his head and turned to the teens.
"Well, lets see if we can find some place to camp out and stay out of everyone's way." He said with all the jocularity he could muster.
Ron was standing, feeling strange. He could feel it. Feel it crawling at the edges of his perception, like maggots on a rotting piece of meat. Tossing his head like an annoyed horse, he want over to where Yori and Hirotaka were quietly talking.
"Where's the blade."
"Ah-Ron-san…"
"Don't give me that—I can feel it, so you brought it…and I bet you brought Kim's stuff to."
"It is in our luggage." At Ron's glance, Hirotaka smiled. "You went through the accelerated program, Ron-san… when you come back, we will tell you how 25 cents worth of tin foil can defeat a four million dollar scanner." The two went to their luggage, and returned with the blade and Kim's equipment.
"Don't tell Kim where I've gone." Ron said.
"But Ron-san."
"No, Yori." Ron said, "There's something…" He paused, and waved around at the busy hospital, the city, everything. "Something wrong. I can feel it."
"So what are you going to do?" Ron grinned at them both.
"Go help the cops…and see if I can grab a person to…talk to." He held the blade for a moment, and then it melted and reformed into an armband. He grinned at the two. "I don't think running around with a sword is a good idea, right now." Moments later, Ron was gone and Yori and Hirotaka were left looking at each other.
"Should we tell anyone?"
"I don't think that would be wise," Yori replied.
Mr. Possible was looking for his daughter. If the police were so unwilling to take her surrender, maybe that meant that they intended to drop the charges. He headed into the Cafeteria, to find it dead silent. Kim, Bonnie, Tara…all the cheerleaders and most of the football team were their, but none were eating. They were all looking up at the TV in the corner.
To continue our breaking news. The USS Nimitz was attacked by several squadrons of Russian fighter craft in the Sea of Japan. We have no information about casualties, but as you can see…
There was a low moan from the audience as the anchor ran a badly focused, unsteady video, obviously from a hand held camera, showing the 100,000 ton super carrier, last third on fire, noticeably listing in the water.
There is so far no information coming out of the Kremlin as to the reason for this attack, and sources at the Pentagon state that there was no prior warning. In-wait one moment.
The Anchor picked up a piece of paper, handed to him by someone out of camera range, and read it—and turned visibly pale.
Excuse me. I have just… just received information that seismic and airborne sensors have confirmed a nuclear detonation over Indian troop concentrations in the disputed Kashmir region. It is not clear who launched the attack, but suspicion will obviously be levied against Pakistan. We go now, live, to the White House briefing… Possible shook his head and moved to Kim, even as the TV dropped off the national feed and went to a local news channel, informing the people that the governor had called up all reserve police, fire fighters and national guard units.
"Kim." He said.
"Yeah, Dad?"
"The police won't take your surrender… they're…busy." Kim looked back at the TV, now mentioning news of rioting in Mexico City. She swallowed, swallowed again, and spoke in a voice that was only slightly trembling.
"Yeah… What do we do?"
"Stay here, for now." Kim nodded.
"Dad…what's happening?" Dr. Possible looked up at the TV, with its litany of disasters.
"I don't know, Kimmiecub."
Ron moved through thesmoke shrouded dawn, through the neighborhoods he'd played in. They were silent now, even the dogs, quiet, afraid. In some places, he could see people hurridly throwing luggage in cars…and in other places, people boarding up windows, but it was all hushed, as if people feared speaking out loud…
Because they might be noticed.
Ron paused by a fence, letting a pair of police cars and an ambulance, sirens wailing, go by. His breath was still coming easily…but that wasn't his problem.
It was the itching. It was like he was running through web strands, some here, some there. He couldn't see them…but he could feel them. Or rather, he could feel them via his connection to the lotus blade. Ron closed his eyes and started thinking. Go where the itch was worse. That was the idea. Go find that…and see what he could see.
Zita Flores was running, as fast as she could, heart pounding in her chest. She'd been at her job at the movie house getting ready to open…when the order to close the theater had come. Zita had decided to walk home, instead of waiting for the bus—she'd heard about fights on the buses.
Big Mistake.
Some of the guys behind her she'd sold tickets to…some of them she even knew, in an acquaintance sort of way. They'd looked at her while she walked home…and then started following her…slowly, than faster, than loping at her back like a hungry pack of wolves. She'd tried to be nonchalant…but then their comments had become very detailed about what a good time they intended to show her. It was then that she took off running, looking for cops, for someone.
But everyone was indoors, and the one cop car she'd seen had been zipping along a ninety miles an hour, siren screaming, and she doubted if it had even seen her.
Just a few more blocks to home. Then I can go inside, hope I don't drop the key, lock the door, hope they don't break the door down and call the cops.
And hope they show up.
It was then that she tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Zita hit the ground with bruising force, skinning her knee. She got back up, just in time for a beefy hand to grab her, slinging her into the wall with stunning force, and ripping her shirt off one shoulder. Zita tried to pull away, but was brutally slapped, causing her to stagger back and fall to the ground, holding her shirt to her. She pulled her pepper spray and sprayed it into the leader, a huge bruiser she'd never seen before. He didn't even blink. Before she could even scramble away, they were on her, holding her arms, pulling her legs wide, going after her fastenings, while unbuttoning their own clothes. Zita screamed incoherently for help, even while she struggled for all she was worth…but only coarse laughter answered her.
I'm going to be raped. Some tiny part of Zita marveled at how suddenly the world had narrowed down. Not to getting home, not to avoiding being raped…but to the hope that she'd be alive in thirty minutes. She closed her eyes. If she was going to die, she didn't want this to be her last sight of the world.
Suddenly there was a rush—almost of wind, and the hands let go. Zita opened her eyes. The street was littered with unconscious or moaning bodies, and standing in front of her, between her and the biggest one of the bunch was… Ron? She blinked. He had vanished with Kim, what was he doing here? His pet ran up to her shoulder and made a comforting noise.
"Hey Zita…long time. Can you walk?" She started getting up, when the biggest guy charged Ron. She gasped, Ron was going to be turned into red paste. Big hands reached out and were effortlessly slapped aside. Ron frowned. The guy was literally frothing. First time he'd seen that.
"Face, meet Wall. Wall, meet Face." He said, slamming the guy into the building with enough force to bring down some dust. "I hope you get along well." As the man slid down, Ron pulled his belt off and efficiently hogtied him.
"Hi Zita." He said. "Here." Ron continued, pulling his jacket off and putting it around her. "Time to go."
"My…my apartment."
"Your mom there?" Zita shook her head, hiccupping and trembling in reaction.
"They're on vacation back in Argentina."
"Then we're going to the hospital. More people there…and I need to take this fellow with us."
"Why?" Zita said. "Let him lay here!"
"Can't—something's… wrong. Real wrong." Ron said, no sign of the goofball in his voice. "And I'd like someone to take a look at him."
"We don't have a car!" Zita said, some of her spirit returning. Ron grinned, and strolled over to a locked van, producing something that Zita could have sworn had been a bracelet before it flowed into a small rod that Ron inserted into the lock.
"Ok…" He said, "magic sword, changes forms…and….open sesame!" The van door opened, and Ron quickly chucked the unconscious form in, after making a few choice pressure point pinches to make certain he stayed out.
"Let's go." Ron said, and Zita hopped in the passenger seat.
"Ron…where have you been?" Zita asked.
"With Kim." Ron said, "What were you doing on the street?"
"Walking home…big mistake, I know, but when the theater closed, I didn't want to wait for the bus." Ron looked at the sight of a city bus, on its side, engulfed in fire.
"I see your-HOLY SHIT!" Ron shouted as a brick starred the window. He spun the van into a bootlegger turn, and drove back the way they came, more bricks raining after them.
"Ron…those were kids—High School kids!" Zita said. There were only a dozen of them that she could see, but the slack hating gazes, the empty eyes. She shivered. "What's happening?"
"Nothing good." Ron said, tersely, and put on the radio.
This is the emergency broadcast system, repeating. There has been an outbreak of extremely serious civic unrest in the Tri-city area. All citizens are ordered to remain off the street, except for emergency and law enforcement personnel. Middleton International airport is currently closed and all flights are cancelled. Be aware that police and firefighters may not be able to respond to all calls.
"The cops are losing it." Ron said. "They would never admit they couldn't respond to calls like that unless…"
"Unless they really couldn't." Zita replied. "At the theater, before it closed, the manager said things were happening everywhere." Ron nodded.
"Yep." The van speed through the growing dawn. The sun was rising, but blood tinged, the light shining through the smoke. There were more fires—not only in the down town, now. More than a few were in the residential districts.
When they made it back to the hospital, they almost got shot. Ron zipped around the corner, and he and Zita cried out as a barricade in front of them loomed—with cops holding shotguns.
"GET OUT OF THE CAR!" A bullhorn blared. Ron looked at Zita and the two teens did as they were told. A half dozen cops moved forward.
"Zita was attacked." Ron called, his hands open and unthreatening. "We have the guy who did it." The police looked him, and Ron felt that itching sensation again.
Oh Shit. The cop on the end had been twitching looking lost, but then his gaze focused on Zita.
"I bet you led them on, didn't you? It's not enough that the city's burning down around us and we can't do anything to stop it and my partner is in the emergency room with a .45 in his chest…I bet you led them on, offered to spread for them…didn't you?" He asked, not noticing the other cops looking at him in disbelief.
"I…I no!" Zita said.
"LYING LITTLE SPIC!" He screamed and now his riot gun was unsteadily pointed at her. "You spread for them, you always spread for them, you filthy little slut! I'll-" Ron was considering whether he could make to him in time to take the gun…or if he should kill him out right. He could. With the blade he could… but… The other cops settled the issue for him. One crept up in his fellows blind spot and seized the gun, as the other four jumped on him…and promptly were flung off as the guy rose up with the same scary strength Ron had seen in the men going after Zita. Fortunately, strength wasn't everything and as he charged, Ron met him. Moments later, he lay on the ground, growling and twitching. Ron looked up and saw guns pointing at him.
"He's OK!" Ron said. "I just hit some points to stop him….can me and my friend go up to the hospital?" The police looked at him and each other.
"Take Hank." One said. "Let them know we have another freak out case." Ron nodded.
"Kim-san" Yori said, as she came to find Kim in the Cafeteria. All the students had been confined to the room—there had been incidents of people freaking out in the hospital, and the security staff had declared that the only people in the halls had to have a very good reason to be there. The TV continued blaring what had become a nonstop litany of disasters. Every city in the United States was under a 24 hour lockdown, and aerial shots of LA, New York and even Washington showed block after block on fire, road blocks, police fighting with rioters, and in some cases each other… Even smaller cities were having problems. Kim looked out the window, to confirm that.
"Yes, Yori?" She asked.
"Ron-san has returned."
"Returned? He left?"
"Yes. He needs to talk with you."
"Left." Kim said. "Yori, do you have the suit and the sticks?"
"Ah, yes?"
"Get them." Kim Possible ordered.
Downstairs, Ron was having a conversation with Kim's mom…or at least talking to her. Dr. Possible's surgical greens were covered with blood and she was no longer doing brain surgery, but helping out with the endless lines of gunshot, knife stabbing and burn victims. The numbers had slackened in the last hour…but not for any good reason. It was now too dangerous for ambulances to move without a police escort. The announcement had been sent out that only the most desperate cases were to be transported.
"Ron, I…I don't under…this isn't the time." She said, blinking her eyes at him, barely seeing him. "I need, to." Ron dropped his voice the way Sensei did when he really, really needed to get a point across.
"Ms. P., You have to do this. This is unnatural, and trust me, I need to know what is wrong with this guy." He pointed to the unconscious would be rapist on the gurney. "I can feel it…but not what it is. You need to do that." His tone seemed to bring her back to herself.
"I… alright." She said. Ron frowned. He could feel that itching sensation around her…
No. Not around Ms. Possible. Around everyone. Some were worse than others, but all had it…except him. The blade. Ms. P. looked at him and gave a fragile smile.
"It might take… a little longer than usual."
"No problem."
"Ron…why'd you leave without me?" Ron looked over at Kim…Kim in the form fitting suit, the sticks holstered by her side. Kim looking….determined.
"I… ah…" Kim softened, and gave Ron a hug.
"I understand." She said softly. "But we have to do something…together." Ron nodded.
"Starting with the city. It's really going to pieces out there, KP. My parents are helping upstairs." He paused, "I told them I'd be…out, when I left Rufus with them." Kim looked over at her mother.
"Mom… I said I wouldn't…but this…" Kim gestured.
"Go dear." Her mother said. "Do what you can." Kim and Ron nodded, as they took off for the exit. But before they got there:
"Kimberly Ann Possible." Her father said. "I thought you promised to give this up." Kim looked at her father, at the TV… at the smoke tinged air outside the windows.
"Dad…" Kim quietly said, "I made that promise to you…I don't want to break it…but look at what is happening." She paused, took a breath, "There may not be a world tomorrow." Her father looked at her, and opened his mouth, and then deflated.
"And you think you can save it?"
"No." Kim quietly said. "But I can try to save my part of it… Dad… I have to do this." Mr. Possible looked at his daughter, moisture pooling in his eyes.
"I suppose even I would learn that my little girl…is all grown up now." He said, "It was wrong to make you make that promise, Kimmiecub. Be careful." She impulsively ran up and gave him a hug.
"I will daddy…" She whispered into his ear. Than, she and Ron were gone.
Epilogue:
FLASH FLASH FLASH
EMERGENCY WAR ORDERS.
TO ALL COMMANDS:
ALL MISSILE SUBMARINES ARE ORDERED TO SORTIE IMMEDIATELY. ALL SURFACE SHIPS AND ATTACK SUBS ARE TO SORTIE AS CONDITIONS PERMIT.
ALL STRATEGIC BOMBER UNITS ARE TO IMMEDIATELY TAKE OFF AND ASSUME HOLDING POSITION. ALL TACTICAL UNITS ARE TO DISPERSE AS PER WAR PLAN INDIGO.
ANY NON-US FORCE, EVEN THOSE THAT ARE ALLIED, WHICH APPROACHES INTO ATTACK RANGE IS TO BE WARNED AWAY, AND IF THEY DO NOT BREAK OFF IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED.
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT ARE AT DEFCON 2.
REPEAT: RULES OF ENGAGEMENT ARE AT DEFCON 2.
ADDENDUM: NUMEROUS CASES OF MENTAL DERANGEMENT HAVE BEEN NOTED IN BOTH CIVILIAN AND MILITARY COMMAND AUTHORITY. COMMANDERS AND EXECUTIVE OFFICERS ARE CAUTIONED TO TAKE ALL MEASURES TO INSURE THAT ORDERS FOR WEAPONS RELEASE, ESPECIALLY NUCLEAR WEAPONS RELEASE, ARE IN FACT LEGITIMATE. LETHAL FORCE IS AUTHORIZED TO PREVENT UNAUTHORIZED WEAPONS RELEASE.
FLASH FLASH FLASH