Episode 7: Obligatory Camping Trip Part II; Or, Anything Can Happen in a Survival Situation

Assistant Newman peered up at the tower, gaze alternating between the structure dwarfing him by comparison and the readout of the Seismographic Wave Convertor in his hand. Even surrounded by enormous pines, the metal struts rose above, like technology's personal Eiffel tower! His eyes were bright behind the thick frames of his glasses. Who knew what this kind of technology could accomplish? And this energy output!

"Professor," he spoke into his cell, "this is Newman. I'm reporting in about station B—it's doing better than we ever could have hoped."


They made it out to day six with what seemed like relatively little progress, considering this was supposed to be Mallory's crusade against the girl from the hospital. Narma didn't know anything about survivalism, but she knew that it did not require a display of her cohort's verbal fencing with her acquired anime rival. And besides, their interactions seemed…hm.

An attractive, scruffy guy was their counselor for the evening, leading them through the woods in what had to be an excessive amount of gear. "One of the most important things I wanted to go over with you today—" he said, ducking between the trees as if there were actually anything there to avoid, "—is creating a shelter."

The group oohed indulgently. Narma's girls were alternately living in a state of distraction, leaving her for a rare moment to her thoughts.

Rory and Carmen were chatting quietly about something a little ways ahead, looking bothered. She would have to get the low-down later on.

Mallory, on the other hand, was so far off to the side one could hardly tell she was associated. Her scandalized exclamations occasionally broke through the masculine brogue of their guide's lecturing.

The counsellor girl, miss blond, fit, and mysterious, led her in a wayward path through the trees, trading banter that, in a backwards way, reminded her of herself and Manual—if their goal was to nettle the hell out of each other at all moments of the day, that is.

She sighed. She needed to call him that evening. She missed his voice.

Gruff McBuff, or Ted, or whatever his name was, stopped the group in an area rife with long-armed trees. "This is the ideal scenario when you are trying to build a shelter. You want dry, sturdy, and large enough to support the weight of whatever's keeping the rain off."

"But it's not raining," said one girl, ineffectively raising her hand.

Ted said, "Anything can happen in a survival situation." Turning his head, he called over to the pair that were galivanting through the trees. "Hey Sarah, you mind helping me with this?"

The girl peered up from where she'd been deep in the throes of sending Mallory into a tizzy, and called back amicably, "Sure," making her way back over.

Mallory, her distraction lost, stomped over to stand at Narma's side, arms crossed defensively.

"Get anything useful?" Narma asked lowly, quirking her brow.

Mallory pushed up her shades with one knuckle. "She's been looking into us, but she won't tell me more than that."

Narma froze, gaze drifting to the front where the two counselors were now gathering example sticks into a pile. When would they ever need that information? Didn't matter right now. "She's looking into us? Since when? I thought you were looking into her?"

"The reason she was at the hospital in the first place was because she saw us on the news during the attack. She was hoping the patients or staff might know something more, but of course all the civilians were unconscious."

Mallory burrowed further down in her jacket, which it was undoubtably too warm for outside. Narma could already see a sheen crossing the girl's forehead, the big dummy.

Her face was…kind of dark, though. She was usually serious, but Narma hadn't seen her so dejected before.

"Worst part is, if that's true, I've been coming right to her. Volunteering information, drawing attention to myself. She was probably letting me do it on purpose. If she puts those things together, it would be an easy matter for her to go to the police." She glanced up through her shades, "You know they want to arrest us now."

"Alright," Ted called sharply over the group, and Narma realized she should have been paying at least a little attention. "Everybody split up into groups of two. I want to see you put together your best shelter in the next thirty minutes. When you finish up, we'll go over what you made, and point out what's working, and what could be improved. The group with the best shelter will get an extra survival session with me, to learn some more tips."

At least it's no major loss. She turned to Mallory, gesturing to the trees. "We've got to get all these sticks."

They broke off, finding some brush nearby to start with. Once they begun to salvage, she turned her attention back to the matter at hand: how much of a threat was this girl? "Do you think that she would?" She lowered her voice. "Go to the police, I mean."

Mallory stared at her for a moment before picking up the thread she had dropped. "I don't know." She paused, chapped lips pursed. "…I have reason to believe that she may not want to get overly involved in the police for…other reasons. But she's obviously got some kind of stake here. She's gone to too much trouble. And she's already spoken to them once."

Narma paused, stick hanging limply from her hand. "You don't know what she wants?"

"She won't tell me." Her eyes hardened. "And to be quite frank, I find it hard to believe that she just happens to show up the day the first Cryptid pops up in the city. It's too much of a coincidence."

Narma watched her, an inking stirring in her mind that there was something, off, about her expression. She narrowed her eyes. "You seem…pretty unhappy about that."

Mallory eyeballed her. "Well yeah. I've already got a criminal record. If she's working with the police, that's jail for me at least, or worse. Do you know what kind of crazy labs the government has to screw around with? Picture us strapped to a table."

Okay, she had not considered the possibility of something like that happening before, and the gruesome image flushed the blood from her face. That was a good damn point. Japan might have been content to revel in the wonder of magical girls running around in the same way they loved getting whimsical with technology. But this was America. When America gets its hands on something it doesn't understand, especially something powerful, its first instinct is seek and destroy if it can't have it under its boot. It could start a freaking witch hunt.

Mallory's face fell, not done. "...and if she's not working with them, then she's evil—involved with the Cryptids, somehow. And she's just fucking with us."

Narma furrowed her brow. Something was still the ping on her radar of something missing, but she wasn't quite sure what. She wondered if this was how Carmen felt when she was feeling her little psychic harmony-meter imbalanced. "…what are you talking to her about, then? If she's not telling you anything?"

Mallory almost seemed to pout, face twisting up. She groused, "She keeps asking me these stupid questions. Totally irrelevant. Like, what do I put on my pizza? What did I want to be when I was a kid? What is my least favorite animal, and why?" She punctuated the 'why' with contemptuous pizzazz, giving it a little jazz-hand before throwing her stick violently onto the pile.

Narma paused. She ran back over everything she knew about this girl, and what Mallory had told her, and something said hold up. "…it kind of sounds like homegirl is just trying to get to know you."

Mallory threw the last of her hastily gathered sticks down. It did not at all resemble a structure at this point. "Of course she is!" She yelled, drawing the gaze of nearby groups who were probably too far away to actually understand what she was saying. "She's a freaking spy!"

"Hmm." Narma leaned back, earlier trepidation fading. "I dunno, girl. Are you, like, sure this isn't a thing?"

Mallory stared flatly. "'A thing.' You're going to have to be more specific."

Narma considered her for a moment, then snorted. "I'm just saying. You seem to be a bit more bummed about the possibility of her being a bad guy than you first let on. Makes a girl wonder."

Mallory stopped trying to prop two sticks together like a couple playing cards. "What, exactly, are you implying?"

Narma's gaze scanned the area, where the girl's blond braid was a beacon in the distance, then she planted her hands on her hips. "You two have got like this weird tension is all I'm saying. I'm not convinced I wasn't right at the very beginning—do you like her?"

"What?" Mallory's cool broke, and she stood upright. The sticks collapsed. "That's absurd!"

And her whole damn face was red, wait. "Holy shit, you do."

"No, listen," Mallory said, tone shifting sharply into panic. "You're misinterpreting. She infuriates me, not anything else. She gets some kind of kick out of nettling at me, sure, I don't know what her deal is, but that's it. I can't stand her."

Wow, does the lady protest a bit too much. Narma clicked her tongue. "Hm. Sounds pretty gay to me."

Mallory huffed, turning back to their askew pile of sticks, distractedly trying to piece them into an identifiable object. "You're wrong. She's working against us. I'm just trying to make sure we don't end up on a slab."

Narma shrugged, eyebrows not leaving her hairline. "Whatever you say, girl."

No surprise, their shelter came in dead last at the end.


Narma was delusional, and Carmen was absolutely doing her freaking job.

"She's her sister," Carmen murmured to her. leaning in to indicate the chartreuse-haired girl emerging in the distance from the first aid station.

The fire wasn't lit yet, the ranks of them not yet assembled for the final campfire jamboree of the week. The campfire jamboree had proven itself to be a chance for the campers to socialize and relax at the end of the day—though calling it a jamboree was really an exaggeration, as there wasn't even any music. Mallory preferred it that way herself.

"And she just approached you out of nowhere?"

"Yes," Carmen whispered. White gravel shifted under her feet as she turned on the log, trying to make it less obvious they were talking about the girl in their direct line of sight. "It was really strange; she made up this excuse about having caused my bike chain to break so she could talk to me. And then she just wanted to chat."

"Weird." She folded her hands in front of her face, leaning on her knees. If both sisters had made appearances around the monsters, that was even more damning evidence than they'd had before. At least someone had managed to get something useful out of this trip.

She'd seen the photo in the amber alert: Gwen Kingsley and her sister, younger, and with hair that rendered them almost unrecognizable now. She hadn't even considered the role Gwen's sister had to play in this; that was foolish. 'Sylvia' was an interesting choice, though.

Carmen sat back, kneading the back of her neck. "I was trying to find out what they want, but she shut me down. She seems pretty nice, but it was just an odd moment." She frowned.

"That's valuable information, thank you," Mallory gave her a nod.

Carmen straightened. "Anything on your end?"

She sighed. "She's pretty inscrutable. I haven't found out anything more than I told you guys the other night."

She still hadn't told them about the runaway thing. She didn't know why she was hesitating; it wasn't as though she didn't trust them, but somehow the information felt more…private, than other things. She would tell them eventually, but for now it just didn't seem relevant.

They knew she was looking into them, and that was what was important.

The other campers wandered into the square, taking seats around the pits. The counsellors lit them one by one before going to their own outdoor tables by the dining hall to smoke. Dusk began to fall more heavily as preparations took place, deep blue soaking into the edges of the sky. Somewhat picturesque, for their last night of camp. If this whole endeavor didn't feel like such a failure, it might have been pleasant.

The sharp sound of Rory's laugh caught her attention, and Mallory peeked over her shoulder to see her and Narma on the approach. Their hair was wet, and they had towels over their shoulders.

"Hey girls," Rory pipped amicably as she and Narma moved into the spaces between her and Carmen, who was sitting across the fire. "The kayaking thing was a mess. It was great!"

"I am never doing that again," Narma blew out a puff of air, plopping her towel down as a cushion before sitting on the log. "I almost fell out like five times."

"You wouldn't have fallen out," Rory stuck her tongue out, wringing out her braids.

"You can't say it wasn't your element," Carmen teased with a finger raised.

"Aye," Rory shot her a finger gun. "I see what you did there."

"Okay, okay, make fun of the poor drowned girl." But Narma was smiling.

Counselor Deborah appeared soon behind them, with several other damp campers and a plate full of relevant supplies: skewers, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers. Rory quietly cheered yes!

"I hope you guys have enjoyed camp," the woman smiled fondly as the group made excited noises, taking the offerings. "We've enjoyed having you. In the morning, we'll have a couple hours of swimming, and then we'll pack up, get lunch, and head on home."

"Thanks Deborah," the group said. The burly woman had been a pretty good counsellor, honestly. It seemed she really did love her job; it hadn't been an act to lure them into a false sense of security. A rare commodity.

She lit the fire, and then went back to join the rest of staff. Carmen, Narma, and Rory chatted amongst themselves about the fun they'd had, but the conversation seemed to float around Mallory at a distance, a roiling malaise caught somewhere in her chest. She had had some fun too, she guessed, but there was just too much to think about it. She had enjoyed spending time with them, at least.

The first little embers had begun flicking up into the air when someone squeezed into the empty space in the other side of the fire, a couple spaces down from Carmen.

"Hey!" Carmen piped up, and Mallory brought up her gaze to see a cloud of eye-searing green dancing with firelight. "Sylvia, hi. I haven't seen you out much."

"Hello," she said lightly, eyes directed down as she took up a skewer. "Yes, I'm not a fan of the crowds, but I do like the fire. I figure if there's going to be a time to enjoy it, this is the last chance before we leave. Plus, all kinds of insects are attracted to the light, so that's nice."

Mallory squinted through the heat. So, this was the mysterious sister. This seems timely. I wonder if she saw us talking about her?

She really looked like a different person with the color, brightened from its former blond the same way Gwen's had been from its deep brown. If only Gwen had changed her hair, they might have looked much more like sisters than they had in the alert. Of course, it would make sense that there wasn't really a resemblance between them—according to the alert, Sylvia was adopted.

"That's great," Carmen nodded, though she didn't look particularly thrilled with the insect comment. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

"Plus, my sister's coming out here tonight."

What.

"Speak of the devil," came that fucking amused voice from behind her. Mallory tensed as Gwen took a spot two spots down from her left, like that was a fine thing to do.

Mallory hunched into her knees. "You're like a daisy," she groaned. "You just keep popping up everywhere."

Gwen smiled, one brow incredulously quirked. "If you'll recall, you're the one who followed me here."

Mallory faltered. Embarrassingly, she was right. After a moment, she said. "I thought that was all according to plan."

"Mm," Gwen hummed, taking a heavy gulp from a water bottle. "Maybe."

She was wearing some stupid-looking khaki shorts that hugged her thighs to the knee and the same cheesy tight-fitting camp logo shirt she'd been wearing all week. She'd forgone the jacket this time and—okay, this must have been the first time she'd seen her without some kind of over-wear, because the girl had some frankly impressive arms. They weren't, like, big, but Mallory would have known she was an athlete right away. Some kind of wiry cat muscle, or something. Like she was a swimmer, maybe. Fuck, this was irrelevant.

It was just another thing that, if she were being honest with herself, made her feel sort of…inferior, in comparison.

She took a breath, Gwen having turned to chat with some campers she didn't know. Okay. Maybe she could admit that.

Gwen always seemed to be a step ahead of her. She was at the hospital first, she went to the police first. Then she was just chilling in the city while Mallory had been working tirelessly to try and track her down. She'd created a new identity and moved cities while the authorities were actively looking for her, and she seemed so confident she wouldn't be discovered. Mallory's false-name reservation in the Needle had been tracked by the police in one day.

She was sharp and skilled and composed. In every test of capability that had arisen between them, she had beaten her. And, hell, might as well go there, she was pretty. Blond and shapely; vivid blue-green eyes. Her stupid, excellent jaw line. Mallory had never cared much about her own looks, but she knew when she was outmatched and it felt like one more brick in the wall.

And, oh, if that weren't enough, Gwen just gave her information like she didn't care what Mallory knew. Let her chase after her like some amateur stalker, joking with her, asking her what her fucking favorite pizza was—because she didn't need to take her seriously. She wasn't a threat.

God, that just made her feel like shit.

She kicked gravel into the fire, where it jostled the kindling and sent embers splitting in all directions.

On the far side of the circle, she could hear the voice of Gwen's sister chattering to Carmen—something about her father.

"I spoke to him a little bit," said Carmen. "It wasn't about anything major, but I managed to…I suppose negotiate terms is the best way to put it."

"That's good," said Sylvia. "You do seem to have a more energized aura, so I guessed that something like that had happened." She watched the girl tap her fingers forcefully over her knee with a sense of detachment. "Though, it seemed to become more uneasy when my sister walked up."

The group collectively froze. Mallory straightened slightly, trying not to draw overly much attention to it. She could hear the laughter of the surrounding groups conversing amicably around their fires.

"Sylvia," Gwen sighed.

"Oh, shoot," she said. "Was I not supposed to notice that?"

"Sorry!" Carmen burst forth with a fake-sounding laugh. "Honestly, I'm still a little embarrassed about the whole arrow-falling thing—I got taken out by grass; that's pretty bad." She indicated the bandage on her elbow, and the lie was so blatant there was simply no way she was going to believe that.

What kind of shit is that? Working hard to keep a secret identity and Gwen's sister turns out to have some kind of new-age voodoo mind trick? That's got to be a foul.

But Sylvia's unfocused gaze turned to her sister.

Mallory observed the two with rapt attention. As she watched, Gwen gave the tiniest indication of a nod, almost imperceptible.

Back to the other—Sylvia relaxed. "Yeah," she said, and there was an additional quality to her voice that hadn't been there before. A slight tightness. "That's pretty embarrassing."

Mallory narrowed her eyes.

Narma and Rory seemed to pick up on the weird direction the conversation had taken, Rory's eyes flicking between all involved parties even with her mouth stuffed full of smore.

Gwen tilted her chin up. "It wasn't your fault," she shrugged, smiling. "I should be the one embarrassed; I didn't think I was going to be in the position of having to send one of my students to my sister for treatment. Thought I could trust a class of teens and up not to goof off around sharp objects. Stupid on my part, I guess."

Carmen blinked. "Well, I mean, you can't watch them all."

"You win some, you lose some," said Gwen.

The tension seemed to evaporate, but she exchanged a look with Narma. It was obvious to everyone how weird that was.

Mallory jolted when Gwen's attention fell back to her, at the same time Sylvia asked Carmen about the others in their other two companions in the ring of fire. "Speaking of which," Gwen said, "how have you enjoyed this little excursion?"

Her eyes flicked to the others. She really needed to hear that conversation, but of course Gwen took precedence in her attention. She leaned back down on her knees. "I would enjoy it more if you would explain your motives."

Gwen's eyebrows flicked up, and she chuckled. "Now, what fun would that be? Though, I have to respect you being so forward."

Mallory paused. Okay. Okay, that, that almost sounded like a come-on. "I try," she said flatly.

"Bleh," said Sylvia, shifting further around the ring to sit beside her sister. "I'm taking a nap. Try not to embarrass me any further." She laid down, hair pillowed in her Gwen's lap. It might have been sweet, in any other circumstance.

"I'm going to tap my foot," said Gwen.

"Better not," Sylvia mumbled back, eyes closed.

Mallory felt uncomfortable. The scene was so…human.

Night deepened, and Gwen stayed quiet, observing them as Carmen, Rory, and Narma picked back up conversation. Mallory contributed once in a while, but wasn't comfortable speaking openly in front of their guest.

Gwen didn't mind at all, it seemed, and as the embers burned low, she managed to insert herself back into the dialogue. "Carmen."

Mallory watched them warily, ready to jump in if she asked anything damning and Carmen didn't realize.

Carmen's large eyes swiveled. "Um, hi."

Gwen's hand stroked Sylvia's hair, fingers working out knots. "Sylvia told me you were pretty nice to her. Back at that park, I mean. I wanted to say thanks."

Mallory's head tilted without her say-so. That was…unexpected.

Carmen didn't look like she had expected it either. "Oh! Well, no problem, I guess? Really, she kind of helped me out that day, so I'm not sure you should be thanking me. I was working through some stuff, and she gave me some pretty good advice."

"That makes sense. She's got kind of a sense about people. Communicating, not so great." She looked up sharply, addressing the group. "Don't tell her I said that."

"No prob," Rory said, drawn in by Gwen's speaking again. This might be helpful; they might come at questioning her from a different angle than she had, though she was aware that the opposite could happen too. Good that she was there. Rory leaned back. "You two seem pretty close."

Gwen peered down at the girl sleeping in her lap. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure she gets tired of it, sometimes. But I've always tried to have her back. I tend to think of myself as the big sister, even though we're only a couple months apart, so I guess I feel sort of responsible for her."

Mallory noticed Narma's face crinkle at the apparent math inconsistencies, but she didn't mention it. She would explain later.

She kept going. "Anyway, sometimes people don't really get her because—actually, that's not really my information to share. I'll let her tell you herself if she wants, once she is awake to set things straight. Still, thanks. We're probably going to try and settle in more once we get back in the city, so it's good to know there are good people around." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gwen turn in her direction. "So, should I be expecting another drop-in sometime soon?"

Mallory brought her gaze up to give her the scathing retort that question deserved, then was stopped dead.

Something about the fire—it refracted off the curve of Gwen's cheek, got caught in the blue-green of her irises right at the moment she gave her a teasing smile. Something about the expression was almost…fond, which made no damn sense at all. It triggered in her that patronized feeling it always had, indignation stirring, but it also…

She choked for a moment. What the hell was that?

It took her a second to recover; whatever she had been about to say, it was too much. Instead, she forced out, "And you had better be fucking ready."

Her eyes glittered, mischievous. "Of course."


The jamboree died, and the girls retired for the final night. Mallory gathered up her towel, soap, and nightclothes and trudged out to the showers. The thoughts were still buzzing; she needed to clear her head before curfew.

The water in the showers had proven to be, in fact, ice freaking cold. Charmingly, there were also no stall doors, which didn't help her feeling of exposure.

She stiffly lathered the soap over her body, the grungy tiles reverberating with internal noise.

What the fuck, what the actual fuck?

She clenched her teeth, keeping the motions rapid for warmth. There was no way. She had rationed her way through her feelings about Gwen not 2 hours prior and admitted how pathetic she felt next to her.

That bizarre, fond expression stuck in her mind like an after image of the sun, burned into the back of her lids.

She lowered her hands, the frigid pipe-water dripping ineffectively to the floor.

A hard pill to swallow: All the ways she had conceivably slighted her—Gwen hadn't intended to do…any of that.

Gwen didn't know they were going to run into each other any of the times they had. She had done most of the things she'd "done" before she had ever met Mallory. And she didn't send her away, like any sane person would have. She had let her be there, indulged her interest. Smiled and joked with her.

…She had told her her name.

As far as Mallory could tell, she hadn't told anyone else since going on the run. Even out here, in the middle of the woods, she was Sarah.

It was the exact same set of circumstances, warping into two completely different narratives depending on her own perspective. What the truth was.

If she acted intentionally, then she's evil, and she's just fucking with them.

If she wasn't

Then, what? Mallory clenched her hands around her body, face burning through the cold. She thought back to what Narma had said. There was no way all this had been some elaborate game of pulling pigtails. Absolutely no way.

Mallory raked her hands through her sopping hair, which squeaked audibly.

Dammit, she was a liar. She couldn't hate her. The teasing grin and the tenderness of Gwen's fingers combing through her sister's hair provoked doubt in her own hypotheses. She wanted to be wrong about Gwen, for whatever reason.

There were too many factors. Something was up, bar all doubts. It was only the level of Gwen's involvement that was in question.

But what should she do?

It was the most horrible shower she had taken in years.


The morning played out without any additional drama, she, Narma, Carmen and Mallory packing up to head home. Narma had her internship starting day after tomorrow, so she was eager to get back, especially once they had figured out that being here wasn't going to help them.

The bus trudged along the roads towards Seattle later in the evening, as they had gotten a bit of a late start heading out after one of the kids had gone looking for a baseball he had lost somewhere and sent the counselors into a minor panic. The streetlights began to flick on overhead as city streets morphed-in through Rory's window like candy ribbon, replacing copses of trees. Only about a mile out of the city now. She blew a breath against the window, fogging it with muggy air. She was kind of beat, honestly.

The back of the bus, barren on the way up, had now filled out with around half of the camp staff. Rory knew Mallory was slummed down in her seat to avoid seeing the girl she was super suspicious of and Sylvia in one if the seats, 'bout halfway up. They had actually seemed pretty nice, in her opinion. Real sketchy to be sure, though. She had learned by now that people were not always what they made themselves out to be, especially in her particular area of expertise.

...or her...job? Was being a superhero her job? Dang, where was her check at?

She sighed. I wonder what kind of trouble those gangbangers have been cooking up since I was away? She was going to have to get caught up.

Just as they passed the threshold to the city, the sky darkening pink above them, the driver let out a yelp. Rory braced herself against the seat as the bus jerked, stopping abruptly. She bet everyone who had been asleep was awake now; the bus began to fill with concerned and groggy voices.

"Ohh, sorry everybody," the driver called out, hand over her heart. "There was a cat in the road. Can't stand to hit the poor things."

Rory was hit with a sort of sickness. She murmured, "Cat...in the road?"

She stood in her seat, lurching over the pair sitting in front of her to peer out the bus's front window.

There, standing in the road, was a small, orange, familiar tabby. Celene stared back at her, body stiff with fright, eyes holding what she recognized as a sense of urgency.

A shock barreled through Rory's body, carrying with it a sense of dread. Before she had decided to do it, she opened her mouth and screamed, "GET OFF THE BUS!"

The passengers panicked in the seconds after they realized she was serious. She heard the emergency exit snap open and its little sirens went off. Mallory had jumped up first when she'd yelled, followed by Narma and Carmen, both sleep-hazy, movements jerky with adrenaline. They busted through the front sliding door, and she yelled "GET AWAY!" to the passengers without any guidance as to where they should be heading away from. Other civilians climbed out behind them, confused but not without fear.

"Aurora!" Celene screamed, coming from around the bus, "the creature's appeared back in town—"

Rory almost missed it happen. One second, her eyes flicked up to scan the area, and she spied it: the spiked body of Mallory's "Urchin" coming around the corner with a sinister slowness, as if it were turning to stone.

Then it pivoted towards the bus. From what had to be 400 feet away, the creature sped forward, crossing the distance with horrifying speed before she'd had time to confirm it was moving.

Like a living wrecking ball, it rammed the front-right corner of the bus—screams rung out. The bus spun away, screeching through the road making full circles before the momentum sent it crashing onto its side. Rory screamed, diving out of the way as the crumpled machine spit glass shards in all directions. She hissed, the skin scraped all along her forearms, and she came up on her knee. "Guys?" she yelled out.

"We're okay," Narma called from behind her, and she turned to see her half-way on the ground, but intact. Carmen was braced against Mallory, where they had fallen in the scramble, but they were the most upright of any of them.

Something pinged her awareness along with the intense pain knotting of her stomach, and she bolted up to stagger, eyes darting around like someone crazed. "Celene?" Where was she? She was just here—she eyed the dark scrap that gouged through the road, terrified—

"I'm here!" Her chest exploded with relief as little cat pattered from behind a lamppost, where she had apparently taken cover. Without delay, she scooped up their guide into her arms and squeezed her tight, smooching the top of her fuzzy head. "Oof!"

"Scared the beejezus out of me!" She cried, cuddling her a second longer before replacing her delicately back on the pavement.

"Oh, well," Celene fussed, flustered, "I do apologize, then."

"No roadkill today, then, good." Narma sighed.

"Not funny," Carmen scolded. Her eyes moved back to the sideways bus with pin-point concentration—a rare expression on her outside of uniform. "This is really bad. Those people could be seriously hurt."

"Not to mention that thing's looking for a snack." Mallory pointed to the Urchin, reaching down into the broken windows to drag people out.

"Then we need to make sure they wake up tomorrow. Once we transform—oh shit."

Narma was gazing back to a nearby cluster of buildings. The crash must have distracted them from the streetlamps, dousing and lighting at epileptic intervals: the familiar buzzing noise was getting louder from the wrong direction. From between two buildings Spindly Legs crawled out, its legs clinging by window's ledges. It screeched when it saw them and began to scuttle over.

Rory's gaze shot back and forth between them, mouth gaping. Two of them? I thought that thing was dead! They couldn't take them both at once!

The group of them scrambled together, standing shoulder-to-shoulder in a crescent formation with Celene at their feet. "We can't let Spindly get too close to the bus," Rory called out. "If it touches the metal siding, those people are toast!"

"And the Urchin needs distracting," said Mallory, clenching her fists.

"Let's go!"

They'd had to be creative, keeping the scepters on them at all times at camp. Now, she was glad they'd been paranoid.

"Boreas Star Power, Make-up!"

Simultaneously, the others called out: "Egeria Star Power—" "Concordia Star Power—"

"Decima Star Power—"

"—Make-up!"

Light flashed in a myriad of monochrome tones, and their formation broke as the light faded. "Egeria, Decima. You think Spindly might be dumb enough to fall for the same thing twice?"

"Only one way to find out," Decima said before they took off in its direction.

Concordia turned in her direction.

"You're with me," Boreas said. "We have to take this thing out."

"Got it."

The two of them and Celene ran towards the bus.


Spindly Legs didn't exactly look happy to see them. It opened its insectoid mouth and chittered angrily. Immediately, waves of energy-absorption began pouring off of it. Mallory barely managed to fight her momentum quickly enough to change direction. "Whoa. Okay, don't want that."

Woof, and these guys had gotten bigger. Legs stood at almost the height of the building behind it, and the Urchin was the size of half the bus. Not a great sign.

"Your chains," Narma called to her as they took position on either side of Legs. "They conduct electricity?"

"Didn't shock me before."

"Good."

Mallory glanced back to the bus—Rory and Carmen were attacking the Urchin, but if there was ever a time for the chain, it was now. "Head's up," she called across the way, before bringing her middle and index together. "Destiny Chain!"

She directed the attack across the area in a sideways V—out from herself to the Urchin, then cutting back to nail the unsuspecting Legs in the chest. It hissed as the attack vanished, magic in place. "Okay," she said. "Now we can kill it."

"Typhoon Strikedown!" Narma shot out the geysers immediately, and the creature leapt back, wincing. She said, "I've gotten this guy to shock himself before," Narma said.

"Seems he didn't enjoy it," Mallory watched Legs scramble back from the puddle, hissing venomously as electricity bounced off its body. "We need to keep working him back."

Leg's energy field broke off, and it shot one sharp limb out to slam into the ground where Narma had been standing. It didn't pause, reaching out with its other limb it grabbed the lamp post nearby and—

Zzzzap.

Mallory yelped as a bolt of electricity flared from the socket, where the bulb busted into tiny shards. What the hell? I thought it couldn't do that? If it had enough juice to be able to throw that back out, it must have gotten stronger since the last time she and Carmen had kicked its ass. She gritted her teeth, electricity in the air tingling along her fingertips.

Seems like keeping its attention isn't going to be a problem, she thought grimly, just as its leg came out and collided with her stomach.

There was a moment of shock as the air was knocked out of her, then she landed backwards through the glass of an old shop window.

For a couple of seconds, a terror seized her as her body recalled the sensation of falling, thrown through the pane of the Needle's highest window. Then she landed, back jackknifing against a checkout counter inside. Spots danced in her vision for several seconds letting all her attention linger on the pounding ache in her lower back. Ugh, that's going to bruise like a bitch.

She shook glass out of her hair, the spots clearing. It took a second for her awareness of surroundings to kick in, and she flinched when she realized—well, she'd thought she was alone. Hiding behind the counter was a family of three: a little boy with big, dark eyes, his scrawny, scruffy-faced father, and his round, weathered-looking mother. They must be squatting. She regretted the broken window.

The kid was shivering, hands over his head. Outside, Mallory could hear the ruckus of battle with Narma still facing down ole' Spindly with the Legs That Won't Quit. "No worries, kid," she said to the child staring up at her, hiding from the monsters. "We're going to get them out of here, no doubt."

Back hating her with a vehemence, she exited back through the front door like a goddam rational human being.

Narma had to have thrown a Typhoon down upon that thing, because it jittered and jolted with electricity, but it still dragged itself around with glitching movements.

"Hey, you're alive," she said.

"Yep, try harder, death. Looks like we just need to wrap this baby up."

"I wouldn't say 'just.' He's reeeeal feisty today," Narma bolted for the other side of the street to avoid the creature coming down on her from above.

Mallory stepped back, keeping her eye on the cryptid's erratic movements. "Fair enough." Her eyes scanned the rest of the street—this area was huge, more lanes coming and going from the city, so the lamppost trick from last time wasn't going to work. She didn't have her magnets, either. Best she could hope for was to get this thing to disappear; make the cost of staying higher than the reward…

Her eyes focused on the wrecked streetlight. She eyed the empty socket.

It was risky. She had no concept of what it's limits might be, especially in its new and improved form. But what would happen if it absorbed too much power? She pursed her lips. "We need to get it back over to the post."

Narma's eyes flashed as she glanced back, Legs clinging menacingly over head from the side of a building. "Are you crazy? We'll get electrocuted!"

Mallory didn't waiver. "Maybe," she said. "This is the only way to trap it I can think of."

Narma frowned, dodging around a fire hydrant as it scuttled after her. "You'd better know what you're doing."

"That's always the hope."

Briefly, she gazed back to the bus. She could see Carmen and Rory running manically to stay on top of the walking mace they were meant to be defeating. The bus was crumpled like a soda can—she frowned. Gwen and her sister had been on that bus.

…she hoped they made it out in time. No time to worry about it now.

"Hey sucker," she called out, catching Spindly Leg's attention. "Want to play tag?" She held her arms over her head.

It thrust forward, limbs like electrified lances.

Go time. She jumped back—this thing had gotten fast, but she was smarter. Hopefully. "That all you got?"

It struck out rapidly. The wall behind her became riddled with holes, the air peppered with dust.

Behind, Narma called out again, "Typhoon strikedown," renewing the moisture that had evaporated off the beast. She darted around to the same side Mallory was on, backing up. "That attack isn't going to catch it off guard every time."

"Doesn't need to," and they backed up together. The creature shook off the water, glitching like an old TV. "How long do you think you can hold it off?"

"Not long," Narma barked impatiently.

"Long enough for me to get to the roof? There's a fire escape."

Narma frowned, "Girl, you better have an actual plan here."

"I do," she nodded firmly. They broke apart, leaping to either side as the cryptid advanced, recovering from its disorientation.

Narma clenched her fists. "Go fast."

Without delay, Mallory shot into the alley behind, where the fire escape led up to the roof behind the broken light pole. Finding the ledge, she peered down to the road below.

Narma was backing up towards the light pole, leading it close. That put her directly in the line of fire—Mallory jolted, realizing that she could already see the buzz of electricity gathering at the bulb. It was now or never.

Hope this works.

"On the count of three," Mallory called, "get the heck out of the way."

"Count fast," Narma winced against the broken light pole, electricity in dangerous proximity.

"Okay," she said, because she could be accommodating. "One, two, three—"

The moment his way was clear and he spied her from above, Spindly Legs leapt. If it grabbed her, she was toast, but if she grabbed it

She shot her arms out, fighting the momentum that wanted to bring her over. "Destiny Chain!"

The metaphysical chain shot out from her, and obeyed her will, wrapping around the creature.

It froze. One spindly arm stretched out towards her, suspended mid-air. The creature almost looked confused, not-quite-there-eyes peering down to see what it had snagged on, presumably.

She took a breath. This could go really wrong. She didn't especially want to be Kentucky Fried, but you know. Risks one takes for the greater good.

Stepping back, she began to pull. Her back screamed profanities, but…it was moving.

The creature, heavy in a strange way, was lifted upward. It was moved only inch by agonizing inch. The space was dead silent with tension, all three beings frozen in a moment of deadly possibility.

Time seemed to slow as Mallory dragged its not-outstretched other limb up, so slowly, towards the blown-open face of the lamp post's empty socket—


Meanwhile…

The good news was that, as soon as they had transformed, the Urchin had noticed them. Maybe it was because she was in the water that it had not noticed Narma when she first transformed in front of it the other day, but the moment it spotted Rory and herself it completely forgot about the bus.

That was also the bad news.

It was quicker on land by a long shot. One second, it was holding a passenger above the bus, form limp in its strange hand, and then it had dropped that person and was zipping towards them, spikes extended viciously.

"Yeesh!" Boreas/Rory yelped from a little ways away. "Don't get stabbed! Dire Stellar Gust!"

"Yes, please don't!" Celene shouted, tail flicking anxiously as she tried to figure out where to move next. She really should probably have gotten out of there, but Rory had mentioned to Carmen before how much Celene wished she could help during these battles. Plus, she had really saved them a few moments ago. If she hadn't shown up to warn them, they never would have gotten off in time and they would have been crushed when the monster rammed the bus.

The wind attack collided with the creature, the shrapnel digging into its solid white body. It stood perfectly still, as though absorbing the damage.

"We're going to need something stronger than this," Carmen held her fingers up, calling on a Bellicoso. The musical attack smashed over the creature like a flurry of tiny explosives, but unlike the other, it didn't slow it down. Gasping, she dropped to the ground as it rushed towards her, its momentum too much to stop and it toppled over her. It fell forward, its spikes wedging into the cement.

"A combo?" Rory said from behind her, and Carmen quickly got up before it dislodged itself and decided to stomp her.

"At least."

The creature un-stuck itself, practically vibrating in rage. For a creature without eyes, it only took a moment to find them and dart in their direction. She moved at the last second, and again, it took several feet before the creature was able to stop.

She looked to the building behind her. I wonder…

It was large, but it was stupid. And it had to touch them to use its absorption, right? "Hey," she called over to Rory. "Help me draw it back towards the buildings."

"Sure thing." She paused. "Hey, where did Celene go?"

Carmen's brow furrowed, and she scanned the area—back where they had come from, she could see Celene heading…back into the bus? Maybe she had decided to find a cover, unless she had suddenly developed some kind of powers herself, but that seemed unlikely. That was probably the safest place right now, honestly. The creature didn't care about the people anymore; it wanted them.

…which was weird, actually? That didn't seem to match its previous patterns. Did it? She tried to think back, then shook herself out of it. Not the time.

They ran back towards the buildings, then stopped. "Okay," Rory/ Sailor Boreas said. "Now what?"

Carmen narrowed her eyes on the incoming creature. "Now, don't move."

Rory stiffened. "Um. I don't know how I feel about this plan, girl."

She rolled her eyes humorously. "Don't move until I give the signal."

"Well, that makes more sense."

The creature shot towards them in bursts. It seemed it did tire, if it wasn't able to maintain the same speed at all times. Regardless, when it finally locked on, Carmen shouted "Now!" And dove to the side, Rory doing the same in the other direction. As predicted, the creature didn't stop, colliding with the building in an explosion of brick.

They backed up as it broke free and shook all over—probably the equivalent of shaking its head to clear disorientation, as it's body and head were basically one solid sphere. It staggered a bit as it turned to find them.

"Hoping it'll knock itself out?"

"That's the plan," said Carmen.

"Better than anything I got."

They repeated the process, and Carmen was thankful that it didn't catch on that they were doing it intentionally. Eventually, though, it seemed to realize it wasn't getting anywhere, and it maneuvered them back away from the buildings towards the bus with short, spike-threatening bursts. Every once in a while, it jolted, as if shocked. It must have been coming through Mallory's chain connection, albeit muted.

"Okay, well, I think we gave it a concussion." Rory nodded consideringly before crying out as the beast attempted to barrel over her. "Man, this thing just doesn't stop!"

"You up for that combo?" Carmen held her hands up defensively as they split the space between them, the creature indecisive about which one of them to go after. "We can't let it touch us."

"Then we'll have to be fast."

Reaching into the core of herself where she knew the star soul was blazing, she waited for the words to rise that would give her what she needed. Feeling the connection with Boreas harmonize, they appeared:

"Disarming Orcestral Derecho!"

The attack was a mouthful, and as they spoke it simultaneously a wall of wind and cacophonous sound rose up before them, spanning the area. It crashed into the Urchin in waves, golden shrapnel tearing through its form as it bellowed only to disappear as soon as it hit. This might be a good one for spread-out enemies—

But when it was over, the creature was still standing. Her jaw dropped.

"Man!" Rory shouted, voice strained. "It's not dead yet?!"

There was a loud pop and Carmen shielded her eyes, a suddenly light flashing violently from the other side of the intersection. Looking over, the light dimmed enough that she could see "Spindly Legs" lit up like the fourth of July, Mallory keeping a grip on it from the roof top. Her first thought was, that is so stupid! Was she just hoping she wouldn't get shocked?! Then Narma's voice called out to her. "Ca-Concordia! Pacify them!"

Oh! That might work! Raising her hands, she called the attack: "Mesmeric Pacification!" She held her breath.

The creatures limpened but did not disappear. They jittered with movements that made her feel like they were going to stand back up at any moment. She and the others looked at each other, horrified—they had tried just about everything, their attacks weren't cutting it, how strong were these things?

"Celestial Roulette!"

Carmen started, thrown out of concentration by what was obviously the call of an attack. But they were all looking at each other?

About that time, a series of clicks sounded ending with a flaring noise, and then something shot from above into the body of the Urchin.

It withered and twisted, before making a motion like sinking into the ground. Across the way, Spindly Legs blinked into itself and out of existence, banished by the magic of the Destiny Chain.

They stood froze, unsure what had just happened. Mallory was peering above her, looking lost even from so far away. Recalling the directionality of the attack, Carmen spun around, peering to the top of the bus.

There sat Sylvia, leg bloodied and hanging over the side of the bus but wearing a very familiar uniform. Her sister stood above her, one arm extended before herself and the other cupped in the air at her side, similarly clothed. Celene stood beside them, tail flicking nervously.

Carmen gaped—so that's the truth?!

Sylvia's sister—Gwen?—took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, flexing her gloved hand. "I'm going to need someone to explain what's happening right now."