The boy got a late start. That wasn't unusual; lots of people slept in on the weekends. It just meant that his silent stalker was falling asleep over her handlebars by the time he jogged out of the house. His eyes still had that haunted look about them, but he actually smiled as he joined his two friends. It was good to see.
Angel stowed her binoculars in a saddlebag and rubbed her eyes. What was she thinking? Danny Fenton or Phantom or Mister Bo Jangles or John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmitd…whatever he called himself, he was the enemy. He had crashed her Sweetheart into the side of an office building, and he wasn't going to get away with it.
Even if he was, well and truly, just a fourteen-year-old kid.
But these past few days of spying on him had reminded her of herself right after Frank died. Her heart may have been shriveled and black as her bike, but it was still there. She would have to be inhuman to see the boy so down in the dumps and not feel sorry for him.
But she was still going to kill him.
"So what are we doing today?" Danny asked as he joined his friends.
Tucker shrugged. "We've seen all the movies."
"You guys want to hang out at the park for a while?" Sam asked. "We haven't done that in a while."
The two boys considered that until a loud rumbling noise heralded the arrival of a black motorcycle as it passed with centimeters of hitting Tucker. He shouted and fell into Sam who fell into Danny, and they all hit the ground in a tangled heap. "What are you, insane?" Sam yelled to the black-clad rider as she struggled to her feet.
Danny stared at the assailant; there was something familiar…"Oh, no," he muttered, laying a restraining hand on his indignant friend's should. "Guys, run!"
"What is it?"
The engine revved menacingly, and Danny let his eyes turn glowing green. "That's Ebony Angel," he informed them. "Now, go! Call the police!"
Sam shook her head, fearful yet defiant. "Danny-"
"Please don't make me force you." The engine grumbled louder; it almost sounded like some predatory beast. After another moment's hesitation, Sam and Tucker turned and ran. Danny switched to his ghostly alter ego and jumped into the air. "What do you want, Angel?"
She raised one hand in a "come hither" gesture and sped away, daring him to give chase. She would not be disappointed. They raced across town, Angel expertly weaving through traffic as she kept just ahead of her pursuer. She had no real plan for the day; plans were boring. She might kill him later, but at the moment, she just wanted to race.
Danny, well aware of Angel's thought process, blinked in surprise. She was just improvising? Well, if all she wanted was a race, who was he to say no? Using his telekinesis, he lifted the bike into the air and dropped it behind him, heedless of his opponent's fearful shriek. He hovered in front of her, grinning impishly. "Catch me if you can!"
Sweetheart revved in answer to its owner's joyous response of, "We'll see who leads this race, Phantom!"
Sweetheart's top speed may have been 160 miles per hour, but every time she tried to get ahead, the boy simply lifted her into the air and set her down behind him again. Danny led the way through significantly less crowded areas until he finally got her onto the empty back roads. "So who're you after this time?" he called, drifting to a stop as she shot beneath him and turned.
She shrugged and pulled her plasma rifle from its place at her back. "You, kid," she answered. "Who else?"
The boy dodged her attack by ducking into the ground and threw himself back out right under her. Theoretically, she and the bike would be thrown into the air, and he would catch her and take her to the police station. Unfortunately, Angel had fallen for that trick once the last time they met; she was expecting it. Danny found himself in empty sky mere moments before the rifle blast hit him in the side and knocked him to the ground. He started to rise, but the barrel was suddenly in his face, and he chose to freeze instead.
"What happened to you, kid?" Angel scoffed. "Since when do you go down this easy?"
Danny went intangible and sank into the ground to come back up several feet away. "I'm not done yet," he protested. The biker whirled to face him, but she was lifted into the air by an invisible force. "Go home, Angel. I'm not going to let hurt anyone."
Angel struggled until the boy dropped her. She regained her feet and rubbed her neck; it felt like a chain had wrapped around her throat. "That's new," she mentioned, bemused.
"And that's not all, either. Just walk away."
Stupid people seldom lived long on the streets. If she was going to beat the ghost boy, she needed a plan. Without a word, she returned to her bike, mounted, and drove away. Danny followed her back to the abandoned warehouse she called home, then left to let his friends know he was still alive. Had he thought about it, he might have remembered that late December's chill didn't affect him as a ghost, and that the sight of his breath was actually his ghost sense going off.
The ghost waited until the boy was long gone before investigating the warehouse turned machine shop. Not that he would ever actually admit it if asked, but that was a nice bike. Johnny 13 would have cried had he been there to see it. Of course, Technus' interest was less for the automotive art and more for the machinery. Since arriving in Amity Park, Angel had built up quite a collection of tools and machines for the purposes of motorcycle care. It was definitely a lot nicer than the Radio Shack.
While Angel was otherwise occupied cleaning dust and gravel out of Sweetheart's tires, her equipment floated into the air around her. Thinking Danny had come back, she jumped to her feet and fumbled her plasma gun out of its holster, then whirled to face an unfamiliar ghost that fused her equipment into a mechanical body around him. She didn't believe in ghosts; really, she didn't.
So what the heck was that?
"What are you supposed to be?" she demanded, searching for any kind of an opening.
Technus smirked through the small television the biker kept to watch the news. "I am Nikolai Technus!" he announced. "Master of gears and gadgetry and lord of automotive technologies!"
Angel narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you're the one responsible for defacing that Firebird yesterday! That's a crime punishable by death!" She raised the plasma gun again, but didn't fire right away. Her interloper blinked and gave her a look as though to ask how stupid was she really?
"I'm already dead."
After a few more seconds, Angel holstered her weapon and shrugged. "Well, never mind, then. Can I have my stuff back now?"
"Your technology belongs to me, Technus 2.0! With it, I will turn all the automobiles in Amity Park into my servants and take over the world!" He might have gone on, but he suddenly realized that he was announcing his evil plots again.
Angel raised an eyebrow, unseen behind the helmet she seldom removes. "Good luck with that, then. Just leave my Sweetheart out of things." She was being sarcastic out of habit; in truth, she was feeling woefully out of her depth. She could handle one person with ghost-like powers, but not three. And not when two of them were capable of moving things around mentally. And especially not when one of those two was standing right in front of her. As long as he left her and Sweetheart alone, she was more than happy to let him take what he wanted.
Technus watched her walk back to her bike, an idea forming in his head. Danny always managed to ruin things for him, but the boy couldn't interfere if he was busy elsewhere. "Human!" he called. "I couldn't help but notice that you don't like the ghost child."
"He crashed my baby," she replied without looking around. "I'm going to kill him for it."
"Maybe I can help you beat him."
Angel made him wait for a short time before she stood and faced him. "What's in it for you?"
"You, getting rid of him once and for all."
"Yeah, alright," the biker replied after some thought. "I'm game.
Technus grinned. That had gone a lot faster than he expected. Clearly, he was a better negotiator than even he realized. Danny wouldn't stand a chance.