Chapter Three
A/N: My God, three updates in four days. It's a new record.
In response to your questions:
Landunderwave- Err. After Wizard's Holiday, but not so sure about Wizards at War. Because I haven't read it yet. Heh. And about your story… off to check it out.
CharmedNightSkye- I'm leaving that open, for the reader to fill in with whatever. Not a crucial detail in this, but my original storyline was that Kit had done something stupid, ticking Nita off, and causing the breakup.
And to yayalulu- I'll email you as soon as I can, my regular email is not being cooperative.
Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop, so I spin the wheel
My world goes black before I feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights
Close the doors, and I am gone…
Thrice- Artist in the Ambulance
Kit sat down hard as he watched the huge reinforcement matrix spread out across the water and sink below the waves.
Every local wizard in the New York area, and some from much further out than New York, was now gathered at the base of the Statue of Liberty, looking for all the world like some bizarre tourist group staring with an avid fascination at the dull green water.
Dairine too was looking rather unsteady on her feet, and Nita wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling.
The matrix had taken close to six hours to fabricate, even with the combined power of close to forty wizards of all powers and experience to aid it along.
Sunset had fallen, and the mosquitoes were seriously beginning to annoy Kit.
Much as he hated to kill other living things, he flattened another mosquito against his wrist, peeling it off and tossing its carcass aside.
God DAMN, go the hell AWAY! he snarled at the hovering bugs.
The mosquitoes merely droned on, paying him no heed and not bothering to respond, opting instead to continually dive-bomb every inch of unprotected skin on Kit's body.
Weary, Kit let his arms drop, pulling his windbreaker miserably over him as the mosquitoes buzzed about.
It had, indeed, been a hellishly long day.
The hot sun had been enough, but the breeze that had been funneled through Kit's car window had viciously vanished the moment he had pulled up at the docks, and stepping out of the Honda had felt like running into a wall.
The island offered little protection against the sun, besides the statue's own massive, but that had already been forcefully taken by hoards of Japanese tourists and a Californian choir group.
The Californians, Kit thought ruefully, should have been used to this kind of weather.
Tom glanced up from his manual. "Right… there's a lot of work to be done still, but we've done all we can for today. The whales can handle it for tonight. And now… go get some rest. I'll send out a message to you if you're needed again."
The dismissal was all Kit needed to drop a transport circle back to the mainland.
---
Pulling his car back onto the freeway, Kit immersed himself in thought.
Last time the Song had a catastrophic failure was Atlantis. How come New York isn't a pile of rubble beneath the ocean right now…?
…it's almost as if something big is going to happen…something's been waiting…
…something like-
Tires screamed as a pair of taillights suddenly flashed red ten feet in front of Kit's bumper.
Reacting instinctively, Kit wrenched the wheel to the left.
The Honda swerved hard, slapping the freeway median with its front bumper and left front wheel and flipping it onto its side with a squeal of rubber and a flash of taillights.
Kit saw a shower of sparks dancing in through the shattered passenger-side window before something smashed into the roof of the spinning hatchback. The impact entirely annihilated the passenger side of the Honda in an explosion of parts and metal, spraying Kit with a shower of debris. He was suddenly encased in a cocoon of twisted metal and mangled upholstery as the car slammed back down on its roof with a crunch and shriek of twisted metal.
The destroyed car spun to a grinding halt up against the freeway median.
Gradually, Kit became aware of a searing pain in his right arm, and gingerly twisted his head to look.
Everything from his elbow down was a bloody mess; a bone protruded from the crook of his arm, and his hand, though still attached to his arm, looked dubious in its prospective future use.
He found it easier to let unconsciousness take the pain.
A/N: Per usual, if you have questions, comments, or gripes, just review. Thank you very much!