A/N: Rakal: About four or five more chapters left. Osco: I'm thrilled that you think so highly of this series. I'm pretty busy with this story right now, but I'll be sure to check you out sometime. Asilla and Faith's Melody: Thanks! Sakura Scout: All will be revealed herein (sort of).

Sing to Life

By JadeRabbit

Chapter 22: Process of Elimination

Jazz called McKinley who called Johnson who called the President. The President called the Pentagon for reinforcements and then he called Johnson back and ordered him to "kick Alex's sorry ass. I want him gone."

Johnson nodded curtly. "It'll be a pleasure, sir." He hung up the phone and called McKinley back. McKinley, who had anchored himself to a couch in front of his plasma screen television, almost didn't answer, but after the tenth ring his curiosity got the better of him.

He smiled wearily. "Hello, Johnson."

"I need your weapons."

McKinley gave him directions to his storage facilities, feeling guilty in a very distant kind of way. He didn't know why he was concerned. If Alex could manipulate nuclear energy, there wasn't a thing on earth that would be able to stop either him or whatever it was he'd set in motion. Then again, it certainly would be in McKinley's own best interests to have Alex caught. At least they'd have a ghost of a chance with Alex in custody. Whatever the situation, he wanted to at least be there for the fireworks. McKinley stood, holding the phone between ear and shoulder, and began rifling through his closet for business clothes. Things had gotten slack around both bureaus, but he'd still need something a little more formal than a bathrobe.

"You'll need my men to operate that stuff."

"No I won't. Give me access to the warehouse."

He thought they'd already covered this, but McKinley was willing to play along. No rush. "Those things are impossible to operate if you're not trained." He pulled on the formal suit. "You could blow yourselves up."

"Fine. Have them meet me at Amity's City Hall."

McKinley quirked a smile at Johnson's curtness. "You'll need me, too." He didn't know whether to go with dress shoes or work boots. He reached for the work boots; who cared about appearances at this point?

"Shut up."

McKinley clucked his tongue. "Rude. Besides, you know my guys despise you almost as much as you hate them."

"I don't hate them," insisted Johnson.

"Sure you don't. They're used to working under me. I'll take orders from you, and I'll give orders to them."

McKinley straightened his tie as Johnson considered it. "Alright," he said at last. "But the President isn't going to like this."

"He won't like it, but he'll allow it. You can count on that."

XXX

They met several hours later in the heated Amity Park City Hall. The temperature held in the high thirties, very unusual for the fall season. McKinley glanced out the windows as the SWAT team, the FBI, and the police worked out their separate issues in private groups. His own team stood off on its own, ignoring the curious stares of the more respectable members of the force, and double-triple-checking the equipment. McKinley smiled, proud of them, and turned back to his window.

Few people walked the streets outside. The cold wound through the flesh in record time out there, and without some kind of heavy-duty jacket not many people would put up with it for long. McKinley wouldn't be surprised if it snowed that night. His eyes wandered to the street corner where a teenage kid with short black hair waved to him, his arm covered in a padded brown jacket. McKinley discreetly waved back. Next to him stood a girl, both her hair and jacket black, who clutched her arms for heat. McKinley frowned.

"Are we ready?"

He turned to see that little weasel, Johnson, glaring at him. McKinley nodded and walked back towards the center of the room. "I believe so."

"Good." The large group listened as he began to explain the plan.

XXX

Sam looked up at Danny, stamping her feet. "What are they doing?"

Danny had returned, more or less, to his former self. His dreams had bothered him last night, but otherwise he felt ready for anything once more. The jacket served as a rough kind of disguise, not that anybody bothered investigating anybody else in this weather. "McKinley said they were going to try going after Alex."

"Try?"

Danny stood behind her, idly rubbing her arms to warm her. "McKinley didn't sound like he thought they'd succeed."

She turned, meeting his eyes. "Do you?" Danny shook his head. "Why not?"

"Even if they did catch Alex, it wouldn't matter because he's not the problem anymore. Maybe if the research teams had ten years we could stop this, but given how fast this… whatever it is that's going on, I'd say Alex is pretty much worthless at this point."

Sam held herself tighter, shivering. Danny hugged her from behind, sharing his body heat. "What are we going to do?" she asked

"Follow them. Maybe something good will happen."

At that Sam began to laugh, but she found she couldn't stop laughing. Danny tried to reassure her, but he couldn't even take himself seriously, so he didn't know why Sam would. At length, he caught the hysteria and joined her laughter. The two of them were still giggling a minute or so later.

"Seriously, something good might happen."

Sam nodded. "Mm-hm. I'm sure it will." Danny had to look away to keep from breaking out all over again.

A door slammed behind him. "Oh, here they come!" Danny turned the two of them away, walking a short distance from City Hall, trying to look like normal non-ghost pedestrians. The rush of government men emerged, their combat boots thumping down the concrete steps and into a series of vans and cars waiting in the street below. Some shouted orders while others grumbled and complained under their breaths.

"Cheerful bunch." Sam glanced at the newspaper stands where they'd stopped, peering through the plastic windows of the metal boxes. The headlines declared general chaos. She looked away. "So are we going to fly?"

Danny nodded. "Don't see how else we can keep up." They made for a convenient enclave while Danny went ghost. He lifted Sam into the air and pursued the caravan of government cronies, looking down at them from the frozen gray sky. Danny kept Sam's hand pressed tightly in his own. Both could feel each other's shivers, and not all of them were from the cold.

XXX

Jazz had done her best to keep her parents home, but they wouldn't hear of it. Her father was still trying to convince her that it wasn't a horrible idea. "The director of the FBP—"

"Former director." Jazz crossed her arms.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine. Former director, is assembling the biggest ghost-fighting task force ever and you want us to stay home?"

"No can do, sweetie." Maddie set a box of equipment down on the steps. "They need our help." As she straightened, the bandage over her shoulders flexed, and Maddie's face flickered with pain. "We'll be fine."

Jazz heard her teeth grinding. Something was odd with that bandage, other than the fact, of course, that one of her 'patients' had given her mother the injury. According to every paper and witness report of Alex she'd ever seen or heard, he usually went for the kill. It was one of many mysteries that bothered her, and her discomfort over that didn't hold a candle to her frustration that her parents were being so stubborn. "McKinley registered nuclear activity."

"That's why we have haz-mat suits." Jack snapped his orange suit's fabric and grinned, beaming with false reassurance.

Jazz slapped her forehead. "You know what, fine. If you guys insist on being… heroes, than I'm not going to complain about it." She hefted the box her mother had set down and, on her direction, loaded it into the ghost-hunting RV. She helped them assemble the rest of the gadgets in the back, and when they'd all been safely installed, her father reached up and slammed the trunk shut.

He dusted his hands. "Thanks for helping."

"Don't mention it."

Maddie gave her a tight hug. "Don't worry about us. We'll be back soon."

In caskets, Jazz thought. Her parents climbed into the front seats, and the automotive embarrassment roared to life as Jack turned the keys. Her mind put events in fast-forward, she saw them bumping down the street, her mother wincing as the ride jostled her wound… The full force of the matter made itself clear with a bright revelation of disaster. Jazz clenched her teeth and ran up to the driver's side window, banging for Jack to roll it down.

"Don't go. Please don't go." Her lip quivered. "You'll die. Don't go…"

"Jazz, honey, we'll be fine." Jack patted her outstretched hand. "We'll be right back." Jazz shook her head.

Maddie sighed. She got out of the car and stood before Jazz, leaning to kiss her cheek. "We'll be right back. I promise."

"Don't make promises," Jazz whispered.

"I don't see why you're so upset. I did alright before, didn't I?"

Jazz looked pointedly at her mother's bandage. "No. You got away because Alex let you. Nothing's in his hands anymore." Jazz couldn't help it. She grabbed Maddie in a tight hug. "Please don't go."

Jack honked the horn. "Jazz," Maddie began. "I'm going." Gently, she moved away and got back in the car. "We'll be home soon." Jazz couldn't see them leave. She ran into the house and up to her room, slamming all the doors behind her. She jumped on the bed, laying down on her stomach and stifling the sobs with her pillow.

XXX

The guard wiped his running nose as he jogged in place. "Nice night, yeah?"

His companion nodded. "Oh yeah. But you know, we're needed out here." He straightened his black, armored jacket in mock formality. "You never know when something that's been inactive since its appearance might explode."

The two of them had been trucked out to Green Bay for the specific purpose of watching Alex's crater and the dark sphere within it. They stood on either side of the dark fixture, and the immediate area was lit with bright floodlights and watched by half a dozen cameras. Not only was the job cold, miserable, and boring, but they couldn't even enjoy the time-honored occupation of all bored guards of catching a light snooze.

The first figured talking was better than freezing. "Remember when we had to do that one job in Washington?"

The other chuckled. "Oh yeah. Guarding the President's dog."

"I bet we could make a lot of money selling these stories. You know, TV or ghost writers or something."

"You can't enjoy wealth when you're locked in San Quentin."

The other nodded, chuckling. "True enough."

The two guards fell quiet, standing several yards away from either side of the sphere. At least it was cool to watch, they figured. It looked like a hold had been punched out of reality, leaving a swirling pattern of dark grays and black. The first couple days it had been creepy enough, but after a week it was merely amusing. They dreamed of pitching rocks into it but didn't dare for the cameras.

The first guard looked at it. After so long it seemed like a giant snow globe, but all at once it became a sparking snowglobe. "Hey!"

"What?" answered the other.

"Did you see that? This thing flashed."

"Naw." His buddy smiled. "You're kidding."

"It did. Just watch it."

The two of them stared at the thing, one with skepticism, the other with fascination. A bolt of white lighting struck through the inside of it, flashing along its outside and sparking into the space around it before dissipating in the sphere's dark center. "Cripes! You're right!"

He clicked on his radio, but before he could speak the sphere flashed again. The electric, blinding white bolts fled across the sphere's surface with greater density and frequency until the whole thing had changed from a pensive swirling black to a painful glaring snow-white.

"Um," said the first guard into his radio. The sphere held its color and position, almost holding its breath. Its white surface belted out a sound like thunder as it split in millions of pitch black, hairline fractures. The hairlines grew into considerable fractures; darkness peered from it like light, and the sphere exploded. Something beyond human sight but well within the range of human sensations burst forth like a cloud of invisible but lethal gas.

The two guards threw down their firearms and bolted in an escape attempt that proved futile.

XXX

Alex's eyes snapped open. He had this impossible itching sensation in his head, and it was driving him crazy. "Figures," he muttered, massaging his temples. Something would wake him up, just when he'd got to a safe spot. The itching receded a little, now that he'd begun to recognize it. "I don't even want to know." Nevertheless he dragged himself up, stretching his arms, and looked over the edge of his second-floor landing.

The black stuff was really excited. It sloshed against the walls of the warehouse like water in a pool, ten to fifteen feet deep, alternately covering and revealing the victims below. "What? What's going on now?" The stuff curled up to him, checking him out. Alex poked it. The stuff curled around his finger, making Alex want to wretch, but at length it let go. Obviously it didn't think he had a viable soul for it to feed on. Or maybe it was just professional courtesy.

Whatever it thought, it didn't do a damn thing for his headache. Alex resigned himself to the fact that the itching nervousness wasn't going to go away until he found out what was causing it. He cringed and activated his introspection. He found the problem with very little effort; and oddly enough it was a mental image of a red haired psychologist and a certain recently exploded sphere. One or the other wouldn't have bothered him, but for a reason Alex would never admit to himself, he found both of them together to be slightly distressing, and his distress had given rise to this infuriating brain-itch.

"I really, really don't care. Go away." Naturally, the itching did nothing of the sort. Alex growled and flopped back in his corner. "I don't care I don't care I don't care…" He almost felt like somebody was laughing at him. Alex jumped up and shook himself, trying to clear his head.

The worst part about being a free being, he thought, is that you can't blame anybody for shit like this. The itching wasn't being influenced or generated by the black stuff. He'd know if that was the case, because that would mean he had the blackness in his head, and if that was the case he'd be enjoying himself a lot more right now. No, he was restless because his own filthy emotions had turned on him because of that stupid girl and that lazy sphere.

"I don't care!" He sat back resolutely against the wall and shut his eyes. Alex didn't move, but his hands trembled. Below, the black goop roiled up, a tentacle or two stretching over his landing. Alex showed his teeth, but he didn't open his eyes. The stuff coiled closer to him, just six inches from his face. Anyone who'd been watching would have thought the stuff looked amused.

It spoke with something less than words but more than noise. Alex got the telepathic message, and his reluctant brain translated it into marginally sensible words. "Neener neener," said the blackness.

"Argh! Fine I'LL GO!" Alex blasted up through the roof and let his instincts draw him through his connection with the city's rising blackness, making a beeline for the Fenton place. "But I still don't care."

XXX

Johnson grabbed McKinley's collar and pointed at the sky. "Is that Alex?"

McKinley glanced up. "Yup." The whole party had halted as the green streak raced over them. They had been setting up just outside the warehouse when it happened, and all the agents had stopped dead in their tracks. Johnson shoved McKinley away, dusting off his coat and clearing his throat. He should be angry, but honestly McKinley didn't mind the presumption.

"Good thing or bad thing?" Johnson kept his voice down, waving to his snipers to be ready.

McKinley jerked his head toward the warehouse in front of them, where dark shapes curled within. "Bad thing." The blackness burst forth from its doors like a tidal wave. Johnson's mouth dropped open as he turned to run, and McKinley's eyes closed as the wave swept up the party, leaving them all to scream as it sucked out their minds.

Danny had been watching from a building across the street, and he heard the shouts before he saw the goo. He never did get a good look at the darkness that emerged, because before it could reach him he'd phased himself and Sam from view and jumped into the air.

"Danny! We have to go back and—"

"And what Sam?" Danny brought them down a couple blocks over. "That stuff almost killed me before."

Sam turned away, back the way they'd come. "We can't just leave them there."

"We have to." Danny's arms hung at his sides, and he'd returned to human form. Sam slapped him. Danny didn't stop her when she slapped him again, but he held her when she collapsed in his arms. He rested his head on her shoulder and shut his eyes, wondering where the world had gone.

XXX

Jazz bolted from her chair as the front door slammed against the wall. She hurried from her room and was halfway down the stairs when she realized that her parents hadn't returned, but Alex had. And he looked a wreck. She couldn't begin to think of what to do. She hadn't been able to think clearly all day and anything she said could set him off. She blinked her eyes and tried to take a good look at him.

Alex really did look terrible, even for him. He shivered, glancing fearfully around the house before glancing up at her. "Three minutes."

Jazz tried to sound tough. "What are you doing here?"

"Two and a half, now." He stared right through her.

"You hurt my mother."

Alex's troubled eyes cleared, and he looked away. "The fact that she's your mother is the only reason I didn't kill her." He ground his teeth distractedly, glaring at the carpet. Jazz thought he almost looked ashamed of himself.

She might as well make an effort. "What's going to happen in two and a half minutes, and does it have anything to do with why you're here?"

"The end of the world, and sort of. The um, doom finally got out of that sphere. Took its sweet time about it, too." He sighed and looked back up at her, something troubled and disappointed in his glance.

Jazz couldn't figure it. "But why are you here?"

Alex shoved his hands in his pockets, eyes rolling up at the ceiling. "Because I'm a moron," he spat.

The truth of the matter hit Jazz like a freight train. Alex liked her.

And he looked absolutely furious with himself. He put his forehead in his hands. "Forty seconds." He dropped his hands and took a step or two forward. Jazz found herself paralyzed. "I don't want this thing to happen. I've wanted it for myself for some time, but I don't want…"

"You don't want it to happen to me," Jazz whispered. Alex couldn't meet her eyes.

"Yes."

The air changed. People started screaming outside as a slight shimmer flashed into the room. Jazz winced and lost her balance, pitching forward on the stairs. Alex leaped up and caught her in a burst of energy, laying her down at the foot of the steps before jerking away. Jazz curled into a ball on the floor as the shimmering quickened, her face contorted in silent pain.

Alex kneeled next to her, stuttering, forcing out the words. "Jazz, I'm sorry…"

She flashed her last smile at him. "You're not all bad." Alex didn't know how or why she could say that, for in the next moment he found himself staring at a dead body.

XXX

Several minutes before Jazzmine died, Sam and Danny were still alone on the sidewalk and the last of the government drones were dying. Sam had recovered somewhat, and she felt it when Danny tensed

He pulled away from her, suddenly conscious. "We have to get out of here."

"Why?"

"It's not safe." He looked up at the buildings around them and peered up and down the street, not quite worried but definitely anxious.

"What's wrong now?"

He glanced at the sky. "Something weird is coming."

Sam chuckled. "Could you be more specific?"

Danny smiled at her, but turned his attention back to that little warning light bleeping steadily outside conscious grasp. "I can't put my finger on it, but something is really, really not right." He licked his lips. "Something's getting closer."

"You're imagining things."

"I don't think so."

Danny's eyes widened at the sight of a figure racing toward him. Danny zapped to ghost, unsure of whether this was the source of his worries or not. He was on the verge of firing off a plasma beam, just to be safe, when the figure called out. "Wait!"

Danny dropped his hands. "Tucker?" He hadn't recognized him before, but the figure stopped a couple yards away and Danny saw that it was indeed Tucker, with the thermos in hand. "What are you doing here? I mean, I'm glad to see you, but this isn't exactly the best time…"

"Look, I'm sorry about what a jerk I've been. I heard about the big attack they were going to make and I followed you guys over here. I want to help you, and I'm sorry for being a jerk." He held up the thermos, grinning desperately. "See?"

Danny squinted at him. "Who are you and what have you done with Tucker?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want you two to have to face Alex yourselves." Tucker wrung his hands around the thermos. "And there was kind of a riot in my neighborhood. My parents got hurt." Danny smiled, sad and sympathetic.

"We're glad to have you back, Tucker, but you're a little late." Sam nodded in the direction of the warehouses. "All the professionals got… well…" She scuffed the ground. "Nobody's left over there."

"What? You can't mean they're all gone." Tucker looked between Danny and Sam. Neither looked hopeful. "This is bad, isn't it."

Danny rubbed his shoulder, glancing skyward. "Yes, and I think it's about to get worse. That thing I was talking about is almost here."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Alright, what's this new 'thing'?" Danny shook his head. "Well, whatever happens to us," Tucker continued. "I just want you guys to know… I'm sorry I was being stupid."

Sam smiled sympathetically. "We forgive you."

"Guys…" Danny's eyes flashed as the air began to change: something had torn through his mind without warning. He staggered back against the building, knowing the game had finally ended as the stuff began shredding his awareness, his memories and emotions. He heard Sam and Tucker through his own curtain of pain. This was just like the first time Alex had attacked him… They were all dead, now.

"Danny!" Tucker shouted.

"What?" he managed.

"Grab Sam and phase her out!"

The pain was unbearable. Danny figured a couple seconds, max. He didn't answer Tucker, but he did as he said, dimly wondering why Tucker would ask such a thing. He grasped Sam's hand, the two of them holding tight, and phased them both out of sight, feeling his ghost form flickering perilously as he danced on the edge of unconsciousness. Looking up, he saw Tucker. His friend held the thermos wrapped in his arms, pointed at Danny.

"Tucker! Wait!"

Tucker activated the thermos, its bright beam dimmed by the brightly flashing air around them all. "I trust you, old buddy."

Danny yelled for him to stop as the bright, magnetic beam of the thermos yanked him and Sam into its mechanical depths, throwing both their minds and bodies into deep freeze as Tucker collapsed outside, gasping, with one hundred thousand others, his last dying breath.

A/N: You guys are going to have to trust me on this one. The story ain't over yet.