Finding the Way
Part 21: Enter the Endbringer
Taylor opened the door to see Brian and Aisha on the path. "Come on, get inside!" she shouted.
They reacted, breaking from their instinctive freeze, and bolted into the house.
"Which one is it?" asked Brian.
"Don't know," Taylor said grimly. She grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. She didn't have to choose a channel; the warning was on all of them.
"- than is approaching the city. All citizens, move away from the waterfront and either seek high ground or go to your nearest Endbringer shelter."
The voice was calm, emotionless. She wondered if it was computer generated.
A graphic came up, showing a map of Brockton Bay, overlaid with flood map colours. A blinking red dot was visible offshore. Little winking green symbols scattered over the map indicated Endbringer shelters.
"If you are in the red zone, leave NOW. Do not stop to grab anything more than arms' length away. Leave NOW NOW NOW. If you are in the orange zone, grab anything that you need, but do not take more than five minutes. If you are in the yellow zone, you have ten minutes of leeway. If you are in the green zone, you have half an hour."
Taylor noted that there was no green zone.
The graphic changed to a cartoon image of a skyscraper. Blinking red arrows next to it pointed up and down from about the fifth floor.
"If you are in a tall building, go to the roof or a high floor. Stay away from windows. If you are at or near ground level, go to your nearest Endbringer shelter."
The banner at the bottom was scrolling. Taylor focused on it. LEVIATHAN APPROACHING CITY. EVACUATE LOW LYING AREAS. SEEK HIGH GROUND OR ENDBRINGER SHELTER. LEVIATHAN APPROACHING CITY ...
The voice began its spiel once more. "Leviathan is approaching the city. All citizens ..."
"What zone are we in?" asked Brian. His voice seemed strangely strangled.
"Orange," said Taylor. "Five minutes."
"We'll need less than that," Danny said, even as he appeared in a billow of smoke. "Brian, are you fighting?"
"Maybe I can blind him?" suggested Brian. "But Aisha has to get to a shelter ..."
"Fuck that!" snapped the girl. "Taylor can fight, I can fight!"
"Aisha," said Taylor, trying to be gentle about it, "Brian has powers. So do Dad and I. You don't."
"Like fuck I don't," snapped Aisha.
"You've got powers?" asked Brian.
"Who's got powers?" asked Taylor.
"What about powers?" asked Danny.
Aisha appeared in the middle of them.
"Holy crap!" snapped Brian. "What the fuck, Aisha?"
"I can turn sort of invisible," Aisha said proudly. "I can fight."
Brian grimaced. "I don't like it ..."
"If she's got powers, and she chooses, it's her right," said Danny quietly. "You have to let her make her own decisions eventually."
"Arrrright!" crowed Aisha.
"But you don't get close to him!" snapped Brian. "You stay out of the way. You help people who are hurt, stuff like that!"
"Well, duh," she said. "I wasn't exactly gonna take him on in hand to hand."
"... good," he said. "Danny, can I have my costume –"
Taylor put her hand on Danny's arm. Grue's costume, neatly folded, with the helmet on top, was suddenly in Danny's hands, in a cloud of dissipating purple-brown smoke.
"Fuck," said Aisha. "That's very fuckin' impressive."
As Brian took his costume, Taylor's costume appeared in turn, piecemeal. Taylor took each piece as it arrived. Bolting upstairs to her bedroom, she stripped to her underwear and began climbing into the costume.
By the time she came downstairs again, Danny was exiting his bedroom, wearing his own costume.
Downstairs again, Danny grasped Brian's shoulder with one hand; Taylor took his hand and grabbed Aisha's hand with the other.
They went.
The sirens woke Amy and Vicky out of a sound sleep. While they were both wearing their sleepwear, it just so happened that they were both in Vicky's bed at the time.
So that when the bedroom door was flung open by Carol Dallon, she caught both girls sitting up side by side.
Carol stared, then exclaimed, "What in God's name are you two doing in bed together?"
Amy was suddenly and totally tongue-tied. Vicky took a deep breath. "Uh, Mom, Amy and I are together now."
"But you're sisters!" snapped Carol. "That's illegal! And immoral!"
"Only by adoption," Victoria pointed out. "We're not related, remember? You're all about how Amy isn't really your daughter."
"Can we deal with this after the Endbringer?" Amy pleaded.
Carol turned to her, her expression cold. "After the Endbringer ..." she said harshly, "you can find another place to live. Because you're not living under my roof."
"Fine," said Vicky. "We'll find a place together."
Carol stared. "What –"
Vicky was looking through her closet and pulling on her costume. "After the fucking Endbringer, Mom. Fuck's sake. Priorities." Pulled on the boots, fitted the tiara.
Amy sidled past Carol and into her own room. Her robes took but a second to pull on over her pyjamas.
"Seriously," said Vista. "You have got to be fucking kidding me. I finally get to go to the movies with you, and an Endbringer attacks? What does the world have against me and my happiness?"
Dean cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure it's not about you and your happiness but if it makes you feel any better, I'm willing to go on an actual date with you if we both survive this."
She gave him a mock glare. "I'll hold you to that."
But as they set off again, Dean could not help but note a certain spring in Missy's step, that had been missing before.
Miss Militia looked up as the purple-brown smoke billowed. "Oh good," she said. "It's you."
They stood in what they presumed to be the staging area, a hotel not far from the Boardwalk. Grue turned to Pathfinder. "I see Bitch over there, with Armsmaster. You go do what you need to do."
Pathfinder nodded. "Take care," he said.
Compass Rose looked at Miss Militia. "We're doing mass transit now, search and rescue later?"
"Unless we can replicate Dragon Drop with Leviathan," the gun-toting woman noted.
"Can't see it," commented Pathfinder. "Unless ..." He offered a suggestion.
Miss Militia blinked. "You think you can pull that off?"
Pathfinder shrugged. "Don't know till I try."
Miss Militia nodded. "I'll get on to Dragon about it. In the meantime, teams are gathering. I'll have pictures of the team leaders sent to your phone."
"Thanks," acknowledged Compass Rose. She looked up at her father. "Let's make ourselves useful."
The members of New Wave gathered in the Dallons' living room. There was a tension in the air; Panacea was as far away from Brandish as possible. Glory Girl stood with one arm around her sister's shoulders, ignoring her mother's glares.
"So how are we getting to the staging point?" asked Manpower.
Purple-brown smoke billowed, then dissipated. Two figures were standing there.
"… and question asked and answered," he continued. "Compass Rose and Pathfinder, I presume?"
"That's us," replied the helmeted girl. "Hi, Amy, Vicky."
"Hi," said Amy faintly. Vicky nodded a greeting.
"Can you handle all of us at once?" asked Shielder.
Compass Rose chuckled. "Don't believe the media whitewash. Hold tight."
Everyone was holding on to someone else. Purple-brown smoke billowed, and then dissipated. They were in the staging area. There hadn't even been a jolt.
"Panacea is going on to the hospital, I presume?" asked Pathfinder.
Amy nodded, gave Vicky one last hug, as well as a quick kiss, and then moved over to take Compass Rose's hand.
Smoke billowed, and then dissipated. They were gone.
"What's the matter?" asked Compass Rose.
Amy hung her head. "Mom – Carol – caught me and Vicky, in bed together."
Compass Rose hugged her. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"
"I'm being kicked out after all this is over."
Pathfinder put a hand on Amy's shoulder. "If you need a place, we can get a spare bed and you can share a room with Aisha."
"Oh, uh, Vicky was talking about moving out with me?" ventured Amy. Who's Aisha? she wondered.
Compass Rose and Pathfinder shared a quick glance. "We can handle it," said Pathfinder. "For now – good luck."
Compass Rose consulted her phone, and they were gone again, in the trademark billow of smoke.
Panacea cleared her throat, rolled up her sleeves, and went to help the medics prep for incoming.
Compass Rose and Pathfinder ranged across the nation, across the world, bringing in cape teams to help fight the Endbringer known as Leviathan. The staging area quickly filled up. They quickly dropped into a routine, and were delivering new teams about once every ten seconds.
And then the Endbringer himself arrived.
They were bringing in one of the last groups to volunteer, a bunch of Australians oddly named the Uluru Surf Club. At the last instant before Pathfinder initiated the jump, Compass Rose found her focus point – Legend – had moved dramatically. She refocused, and the group appeared safely, although ankle-deep in water.
"Struth," commented Bluey, a massive red-headed man who carried a sledgehammer like a child's toy. "Bloody wet season came early."
"Leviathan," said Pathfinder by way of explanation, then they went again, to the top of the PRT tower.
Pathfinder pressed both buttons on the wristband he had been given.
"Pathfinder and Compass Rose. Capes all present and accounted for. Ready for search and rescue duties."
A synthesised voice came from the small speaker. "Roger, Pathfinder. Roger, Compass Rose. Stand by."
There was a pause barely long enough to catch a breath.
"You okay, kiddo?" asked Pathfinder.
"Nervous," confessed Compass Rose.
Pathfinder chuckled. "After this," he promised. "we'll take a long holiday."
And then the synthesised voice began to reel off names. As had been arranged, they showed up as text on Compass Rose's wristband. Only the injured showed up in her text. Only the ones who would benefit from rescue.
Carapacitator down, CD-5.
Krieg down, CD-5.
Iron Falcon down, CD-5.
Saurian down, CD-5...
They clasped hands. Purple-brown smoke billowed. When it dissipated, as much washed away by the torrential rain as blown by the wind, they were gone.
"You and you!" shouted Panacea. "You're in charge of the gurneys! Always have one there! Right in that spot! Have one ready to put in its place! If you haven't got one, get a stretcher! Our wounded will be arriving there!"
She drew a deep breath, and began to work on healing Carapacitor. He'd taken a hard hit, but he was still alive.
Even as she did so, the familiar billow of smoke heralded another arrival. Kreig lay on the 'incoming' gurney. The volunteer orderlies hustled it out of the way, and put another in its place. Amy hastily finished with Carapacitor, and turned to Kreig.
One after another, they arrived, and one after another she healed them. Sometimes it was all she could do to stabilise them and make sure they'd survive. Other times, she was able to completely fix an injury; they would tap their wristbands and request pickup.
She was worked off her feet, barely able to snatch a bite to eat or a sip to drink in between patients. But there were others there, and it was possible to see that they were making headway. And it could have been worse. Much, much worse.
"Pathfinder and Compass Rose. Message from Miss Militia. Dragon says all done."
Sham down, CD-5.
Harsh Mistress down, CD-5.
Woebegone down, CD-5…
Compass Rose depressed two buttons, even as Pathfinder took them to Sham. He grabbed the cape, they went again before she was able to speak. The gurney was there; Sham landed on it from six inches up.
She focused on Harsh Mistress, sent the location to her father, as she spoke out loud.
"Need a location, a landmark, a name. Something to focus on."
Harsh Mistress was trying to struggle to her feet, her left arm nearly severed at the shoulder. They took her to where Panacea was working, disappeared again.
Woebegone was done before the answer came through. "It is called the Desperate Hope."
Pathfinder depressed two buttons. "Pathfinder and Compass Rose signing off from search and rescue for the moment."
"Roger. Signing off from search and rescue, Pathfinder and Compass Rose."
Taylor focused on the name Desperate Hope, and the image swam into view of an ungainly-looking craft sitting on a concrete apron outside a large hangar.
She drove the information into Danny's mind, and they teleported.
It was late afternoon in Vancouver, and the sun was shining through the trees. It wasn't raining.
As they approached the craft, a side hatch slid open. Pathfinder climbed in first; Compass Rose followed.
What we need is a craft ...
The rear seat had been designed specifically to Pathfinder's specifications. He settled into it, and did up his belt. Compass Rose sat on his lap, and he did up more belts which held her in place. They fitted together like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle.
... lets her sit on my lap in safety and comfort ...
He put her hands around her and they clasped hands.
She focused on Miss Militia.
Purple-brown smoke billowed across the concrete apron.
When the gentle breeze wafted it away, there was nothing there.
Miss Militia gritted her teeth and upgraded her weapon again. What does it take to hurt this thing?
"Miss Militia. Dragon craft Desperate Hope incoming."
She looked around. There was a massive burst of smoke, and a huge craft splashed to the roadway beside her. A hatch slid open.
"We need a pilot!" yelled Pathfinder.
Hannah shrugged and holstered the pistol. Let's see if Danny's crazy idea works.
She climbed on board. As she settled into the pilot's seat, she keyed her wristband.
"Miss Militia in craft with Pathfinder and Compass Rose. Do not engage."
"Roger. Message relayed."
Fastening the five-point restraints, she took the controls and heaved the craft into the air. It was ungainly, and the thrusters had a totally different sound to what she was normally used to.
... flying by rockets, not jets, for reasons which will shortly become obvious ...
A large set of dragon-claw style grapples folded under the craft; when she gave the command, it would take hold of Leviathan. She hoped the craft had been built sturdily enough to take the kind of punishment that the Endbringer could dish out.
... redundant seals and an air supply ...
In the rear seat, Pathfinder faced Compass Rose.
"Let me know when you're ready!" yelled Miss Militia from the front seat.
"One moment!" called Pathfinder. They held each other close, clasping hands, eyes closed, seeking that oneness.
"He's about to break through the line!" shouted Miss Militia, fighting to jockey the ungainly craft through the howling storm.
Danny took a deep breath. "Now!" he yelled.
The prototype Dragon craft lurched down through the storm like a dying duck, its thrusters howling in protest. It slammed into Leviathan, metallic claws latching on to the monstrosity.
Leviathan whipped around, his tail smashing at the body of the craft, clawed hands already reaching ...
"Now!" screamed Miss Militia.
Danny reached deep into the contact between himself and Taylor, and drew from it the strength he needed for this monumental task.
At no other point were they closer, could they do so much with their combined powers.
Taylor had the location. She gave it to Danny.
He activated his power.
Purple-brown smoke billowed across the battlefield.
When it faded ... Leviathan was gone.
So was the odd craft.
The teeming rain began to ease off.
Purple-brown smoke billowed, and the clawed hand crashed into a viewport. Cracks radiated, but the specially toughened material did not fracture.
The clawed hands opened, and thrust Leviathan away from the craft.
He fell toward the grey-brown landscape below, but at the last moment, his prehensile tail whipped around and latched on to one of the arms. Miss Militia didn't hesitate; she slapped the JETTISON ARMS button. Explosive bolts fired; the arms fell free.
And with them, Leviathan.
Writhing, twisting, raging, the Endbringer fell. Slowly, so slowly. Trailing streamers of water that evaporated or froze in odd sculptures that fell in their own turn.
He hit, rolled on the powdery surface, came to his feet. Looked up, toward the craft overhead, limping away on three of six lifting rockets.
Water was beginning to boil off of him in the vacuum, but he followed, his footprints left behind on the surface of the Moon.
Miss Militia wrestled with the controls. Half the rockets had been damaged or destroyed, and she was lucky they were at one-sixth gee, or the craft would have crashed by now. As it was, they had limited fuel. And a look at the belly cam showed that Leviathan was pacing them, even as water vapour boiled off him in sheets.
If we land ... we're toast.
"Danny!" she shouted. "Taylor! Wake up!"
A glance over her shoulder showed her that they were still unconscious, slumped over one another. She couldn't see Danny's face, but Taylor had blood coming from her nostrils.
Never a good sign.
The autopilot was dodgy at best, but she set it and unstrapped. Moving unsteadily in the lighter gravity, she pulled herself over the back of her seat into the rear cockpit area.
Pathfinder jumped us from the Earth to the Moon, with Leviathan in tow. I would never have believed it possible. But did it kill them?
Her questing hands found pulses, strong and steady in both of them.
"Danny!" she shouted. She pulled off the lower part of his mask, slapped him. He stirred, groaned.
"Taylor!" she yelled. Grabbing one of Taylor's earlobes, she squeezed it, digging her nail in. Taylor moaned, moved.
Their eyes fluttered open, just as the craft lurched, along with a blaring siren.
"We're out of time!" she shouted. "We're crashing! You've got to get us out of here!"
Pathfinder coughed. "Dunno ... if ... can."
Compass Rose raised her head. She grasped her father's hands.
"We've got to try," she rasped.
Miss Militia looked out the viewport. The craft was settling toward the ground. Leviathan was leaping.
"Go!" she yelled.
They went.
The storm clouds were dissipating. Search and rescue operations were under way. The damage had been terrible, the casualties horrible ... but far less than projected.
Panacea stopped, wiped her forehead with her sleeve, and looked around for the next casualty.
There were none.
"That's it?" she asked. "It's over?"
One of the orderlies, a woman, shrugged.
A TV at the end of the ward buzzed to life. People started wandering over to watch it.
It told a fantastic story, of a Hail Mary pass, performed by the cape duo Pathfinder and Compass Rose. Of a craft specially devised and built on the fly by Dragon, piloted by the redoubtable Miss Militia. Flying through the storm. Engaging Leviathan in close combat.
And then Pathfinder and Compass Rose exhibiting the true level of their powers.
Teleporting the monster all the way to the Moon.
Telescopes already trained on the creature noted that it had not moved in the last hour. It was dead or dormant. Either way, it wasn't coming back any time soon.
Panacea raised a cheer with the rest of the people in the ward, but the question nagging at the back of her mind was also raised on the screen.
"Did our brave heroes survive, or did they sacrifice themselves in saving us?"
One Week Later
The Dragon craft lurched down through atmosphere. It was broken, leaking air, but descending under power, rather than a steady free-fall. Finally, the fuel ran out, and it began to skip from one point to the next, in a series of cloud-puffs.
It came in over the Atlantic, and from the moment of the first radar sighting, the news travelled like wildfire. When it finally appeared on the landing stage of the PRT building, the landing gear on one side collapsed, and the hatch fell off. Three scarecrow-like figures stumbled out, to a standing ovation.
The story would come out; a desperate, blind jump. Days of teleporting as far as they were able with their numbed, overstrained powers. Food, water and air running low. Hitting atmosphere too hard, popping seams. A hair-raising, risky descent to where the air was breathable. Compass Rose providing guidance to a safe landing.
But all they could say at the time was, "Thank god we're home."
End of Part 21
