This story is rated language, violence, and general adult concepts.
All usual disclaimers apply.

Shadow of Death
By Ziptango

Tendrils of smoke writhed in the darkness causing a searing pain in the eyes of those who ventured too close. The fire, contained in a barrel, lit the ghostly faces surrounding it. All remained quiet. The homeless people of New York City rarely had anything to say to one another anyway. Beyond the sanctuary of the fire's glow, they'd spit their misfortunes, but here, the dancing flame soothed the mind into staring numbness.

Suddenly, a cry from across the trash yard stirred the halo of shivering bodies. They glanced to one another curiously, but no one got up. Moments later, a woman stepped into their view. The flickering shadows deepened her hallow cheeks and sunken eyes which were wide with fright.

"A hand, there in the pits!" she said.

Again, the faces looked to one another.

"Good Lord, don't just sit there! Do something!" she pleaded.

A few men finally stood and lit improvised torches of trash to investigate.

The woman sagged onto a nearby box where she visibly trembled in her shabby wraps. A young girl recognized her as her aunt and scooted closer for an embrace. She gently quoted scripture to sooth the women, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art-"

A distant shout interrupted her, followed by another and another until the entire junkyard was echoing with voices.

"He's alive!"

"Someone get some help!"

The young girl, overcome with curiosity, stood and moved away from her aunt. She followed the men's bobbing torches while attempting to avoid the strewn garbage. Once there, she pushed through legs and gasped when reaching the center. A monstrosity lay bleeding in the mud. It was a man, but only his limp hands revealed that. The rest of him was underneath a strange metal armor that was twisted and crushed, no doubt mangling the flesh below.

The people gawked at the scene until a stranger stepped up. They immediately moved aside for him as she strolled through the crowd to the middle. His was demeanor cold and casual as he said, "I can help him."

- 6 months later -

LEONARDO:

"This is stupid guys. Those alarms haven't been set off in months."

This was getting irritating fast. A barely audible sigh escaped me despite my small effort to keep it in. I turned around and rudely pointed my flashlight beam in Michaelangelo's face. He blinked momentarily and glared back.

Beside me, Donatello stopped as well.

"Quit belly-aching Mike. We just have to make sure…," Don didn't finish his sentence as Mike's glare narrowed on him instead.

Mike knows a lot of things, but caution wasn't one of them. I kept that to myself, however, and decided to take the more mature approach to this argument.

"Time and surprise will be their main weapons." I straightened up trying to appear more certain of that statement then I really was.

Mike rolled his eyes, "And paranoia is ours?"

Don added quietly, "Still, better safe then sorry, right?"

I decided I was finished arguing about this. I turned around, and continued sloshing forward in the sewers.

Don lingered behind and added, "So are you coming or not?"

I heard Mike's soft retort, "Fine."

I slowed slightly until they caught up, but kept a staunch position in the front to avoid any further confrontation. We walked on in silence. When we finally approached our destination, I ordered a triangular parameter after scanning the area. All seemed clear, but that didn't mean it was. Donatello looked to me for confirmation. I nodded and kneeled low to his left. I flipped my flashlight off to bask deeper into the shadows. Mike, I noticed from the corner of my eye, did the same. Donny, meanwhile, stepped up to the tripped alarm on the wall, shining the only light left on to inspect it. I watched as he pulled a crow bar from his "goody bag" as we liked to call it, and pried the grime away to open the cover. With ease, he began the usual process of resetting the device.

While Donny did his thing, my sight wandered to Mike. He stood on the opposite end looking directly at me in the dimness. When he noticed my returning gaze, his eyes immediately looked away. Then, with a grunt, he leaned against the wall and slid into sitting position. He searched his belt for a packet and brought out a cigarette, but the repeated snapping of a lighter instantly shot Don's beam to his face.

"How many times have I told you not to do that down here? Are you actually trying to blow New York up?" Don asked.

Protecting his eyes from the beam with a raised arm, Michaelangelo shrugged the other shoulder and put the lighter away without any success of a flame. He quipped, "So what if I am?"

I huffed to myself. He was definitely as irritable as Raphael now after our idle months. In fact, I was convinced Raph had jump-started this bad habit to begin with. As if putting up with one rebel brother wasn't enough.

"There's enough methane gas in this sewer system to light up the entire East coast!" Donatello seemed to say more to himself then us as he worked.

When we were all distracted with our own judgments of the conversation, there was a quiet whoosh of air and a crash. Everything was then smothered into complete darkness. I fumbled for my flashlight, but abrupt streams of electricity and sparks exploded outwards from the alarm Donatello was previously occupied with. Floating debris combusted into flame and spread at alarming rate along the surface of the sludge. Startled, I unsheathed my katana by habitand kept out of reach. The flames were already blasting me with hot vapors. Ifigured Don and Mike were trapped on the other side. Then another realization hit me cold: Splinter would be trapped in the lair if the fire spread. Torn in two directions, I paced momentarily sweating with the heat and grief. My brothers could take care of themselves, but one or both could be seriously hurt. And Sensei, he wouldn't stand a chance alone and oblivious to the danger. Damn, where was Raphael when we needed him! But that didn't matter now. He stormed off again, and I had to take action alone and fast. With much self debate in a short amount of time, I finally dashed in the direction of our home. I'd just have to suck it up and hope Don and Mike could make it safely to the nearest manhole. Adrenaline spurred me on with my heart hammering hard in my ears. But that didn't matter. I was in a race for life, and nothing else mattered but the finish line.