Episode 11: Needle in a Haystack—or, Locating a Viable Trajectory
They darted to either side as the massive creature drug itself through the underbrush. It collided with the copse of trees behind them, but that didn't seem to slow it. Gwen wasn't thrilled to be in this situation at all, but much less was she thrilled to be fighting some kind of sentient gelatin whose utterances were the noises of the damned. What were they supposed to use to fight this guy?
Gwen fell, skidding through the pine needles lining the forest floor where they clung with sap. Across the way, she could see Mallory stumble sideways into a tree, bracing herself against it as the beast peeled away from the trees with a slurp.
The creature's impact with the trees seemed to do nothing. It dug its hands into the upturned dirt, bits of detritus kicking up into the air as it used the limbs as grounding to turn itself around. It was like tree trunks rooting and uprooting themselves repeatedly.
The dragging feeling still pulled on her limbs. It filled her with a sort of terror—she didn't have a lot of skills, but she had always had control of her body, and moving around this thing was like moving through a thick soup. It was like those dreams when you try to run, but you never really get to moving.
It grabbed onto one of the nearby trees, and she tensed in alarm as the trunk began crackling under its grip. "Move!" Mallory shouted from across the way, and Gwen stumbled back with all the urgency she could muster as the tree came down. She hissed as the bark scrapped at her leg, tearing at the black tights this uniform had given her. It stung as blood began to pool in the scratches.
Good news was, this thing didn't seem to be too smart. By pulling down the tree, it had only created an obstacle for itself. "What does this thing want?" She yelled as it agitatedly began oozing over the felled tree, and she made her way around.
"They absorb energy," Mallory called, dragging herself bodily back. "Apparently, we have a lot of it."
Something occurred to her. "It's ooze. Can it actually hurt us?"
"It seemed to hurt that tree pretty well," she said drying, which, fair point.
Mallory yelped at the creature, frustrated, flopped backwards and head-over-sliming-base towards her from atop the needled tree. "Fuck!" She darted behind a tree, at the towering pine shuddered at the beast splatted into it and began to shake the tree free of the ground. "How's that attack coming?"
Gwen stopped where she'd been moving over, stopping to find again the stance she needed. Why did she even have to stand a particular way? What was the point of that? Never mind, now. She brought her hands together and called the attack again. "Celestial Roulette!"
Yes! Light!
She could feel it in her bones as the Roulette clicked through options, and she drew her arm back. She let it go.
This time, the bolts shot away from her in four different directions. Like heat-seeking missiles, they found four points around the creature—north, south, east, and west. As the beast shuddered in protest, a net-like structure made of light flickered into being around it.
"Hey! Nice!" Mallory called, and Gwen flushed a little at the praise. Maybe she wasn't completely terrible at this, after all.
Although, what the roulette gave her seemed to be based entirely on luck. Uneasily, she wondered how these maneuvers were affecting the balance of her personal fortune scale. She really couldn't afford to take her metaphorical tab up any higher, if she wanted to keep all of her bones intact.
Or worse.
The creature didn't seem able to break through the net, and Gwen could feel the weakness in her limps fading. She and Mallory scrambled into the middle of the clearing together while they had the chance. "Who knows how long that's going to last," Gwen said as Mallory shook pine needles from her hair. "What else have you got?"
Mallory took on an odd expression. "You know, I think I might have another attack."
Wait, really? "Well, now or never," Gwen prompted, and Mallory corrected her footing to something sturdier. "Why are you waiting until now?"
"Didn't know I had it until now. Here goes."
As Gwen watched, the other girl took a breath and held her arm out. In her hand was the deep blue wand thing. Gwen took a step back as she began to glow. Whoa...did I look like that? She looked totally different that the holographic, extraterrestrial figure she and her comrades had appeared as before Gwen and her sister had made it out of the bus that one time.
She brought her fingers together just as she had done to call the chain. This time, though, she brought the hand across her neck threateningly before sweeping it out then sharply down in front of herself. She called out, "Ill-Omen Descension!"
As they watched, dark light blasted up around the monster in a circle, and then what looked like a tiny plaque seemed to hover down to the creature from above. When she squinted, Gwen could see two symbols on the plaque: the same symbol on Mallory's wand thing, δ, and above that what looked like a large letter V. The creature didn't seem to like the light, but she couldn't see any other affects.
V
δ
Gwen turned to her. "What does that do?"
"No idea," Mallory sighed, just about the time the net popped like a bubble.
They jolted as the monster shuddered, seeming to realize it was free, it gave a decidedly more vicious groan that before, lunging around to find them. Already, Gwen could feel the draining sensation returning.
"I wonder if—" She heard Mallory cut off mid-sentence, at that was all the warning she got before the chain shot through the air past. It looped around trees on either side of the creature, and as the blob reached up to yank at the sad restraints, it dislodged the smaller trees it was hooked to, collapsing new obstacles into the monster's path. "Ha! They can double up!"
Gwen peered up at their enemy, which towered over her as it began to ascend the fallen trunks. She noticed something.
The markings on the plaque had changed.
IV
δ
Her eyes widened. "Mallory, the plaque!"
The other girl peered upward, then swore sharply. "It's a countdown," she dragged herself to brace behind a tree. "What happens when it hits zero?"
"Hopefully something good," Mallory said.
Gwen only caught sight of her eyes widening for a second before she watched a huge, broken-off trunk smash into her.
Mallory's figure blurred as she was tossed through the trees. In the glint of the moonlight, Gwen could see the red flicker of blood shining from the blur until the other girl landed with a smack. Oh, shit! "Mallory?!"
"Ow," the girl wheezed, seeming to have trouble getting the word out. "Ow," she said again, a note of panic creeping into her voice.
Gwen dropped as the broken-off tree was swung in her direction, its splintered end swiping past her like a moving pit of spikes. Stray twigs dug into her arms, but they were nothing compared to the falling debris from the trees above as they were absolutely decimated by the monster's make-shift mace.
She drug herself across the ground, wincing at the scrap along her arms and legs.
"Oh, shit—"
She peered over and jolted when she noticed that the creature had slunk overtop her new teammate. Like some sort of horrific gelatin, she was absorbed into the mass, trapped within the viscous substance. Could she even breathe in there?
The plaque ticked down.
III
δ
No, no, she was the one who was supposed to know what to do here! Gwen didn't know what she was doing! What could she do?
She looked down to her hands—had the Roulette charged up enough? But, no, what if she hit her? She didn't have any choice!
Please, please, please...she placed her fists together. "Celestial Roulette!"
The ring formed at the call. Her pulse pounded as she pulled her arm back to fire. Her gaze fixated on the limp form suspended within the body of the monster.
She let go.
It was the miniature bolts again. The blasted into the monster from all directions, blasting its flesh away in hunks. The creature moaned disdainfully, its arms shriveling as it seemed to redirect the plasma back to its broken-open spots.
Gwen rushed forward. It didn't matter what the danger was, she had to get Mallory out of there! She hoped they hadn't hit her, but she thought she could see a portion of her arm exposed.
Her heart sunk as she saw the gel begin to fill in around the limb. The creature was practically vibrating with energy, probably being siphoned off from her companion at that very moment.
II
δ
She grabbed the arm. Only her elbow was free, and she grabbed it and pulled, even as the monster's matter tried to fill in the gap. "Argh, no! Come on, come on!" She grimaced as the arm came out somewhat, but the rest of her body was vacuumed firmly in the gel. She yanked her arm back at the substance latched onto her own arm and tried to pull her in.
It was no use. She couldn't pull her free—it would just suck her in too. She hovered back and forth around the back of the monster. There had to be something, something!
I
δ
δ
There was a noise from above and a dark light descended over them. The creature made a horrible noise, and then seemed to melt—its substance sunk into the ground below as if a force were pressing down on it, until eventually all of its body had sunk into the ground and Mallory—
Mallory.
Gwen fell forward towards her, just about the time the girl curled on her side and hacked. She coughed the same viscous material out onto the ground. She inhaled desperately, and it sounded wet and painful.
"Ooooh fuck," she wheezed. "it's real bad, never got hit this bad before—"
"Jesus," Gwen swore, holding down a gag at the fragments of wooden spearing into the other girl's stomach. Oh, no, oh no, they were so far out from the road—"I'm sorry," she blurted, sickened at the violent scraps to the girl's side, which didn't look much better. "I'm sorry, this is my fault, my, my stupid luck thing—"
"No, it's not," Mallory grunted. Gwen's hands hovered uselessly as the girl moved to stand, unsure whether to stop her or help her. While she was debating, Mallory had already gotten to far up to stop her, and so she ducked to catch her under the arms and stop her from falling forward and actually killing herself. Gwen made a soft noise, terrified by the jutting wood, knowing she shouldn't try to remove it. "My first battle, I got thrown—urgh—from the window of a 600 foot building. This shit happens."
Gwen inhaled, dread seeping into her. She'd been playing this whole space powers thing off like some mysterious adventure to be had, but she was starting to understand that she really had no idea what she was in for. She adjusted her stance, making sure her grip was firm. "We need to get you to the hospital.
Slowly, they limped back to the house.
/
They were only there for a few minutes, and the stop only revealed more bad news. "There's no signal," Gwen said, anxiously hovering over her phone screen, now extracted from the Faraday bag. They were both still in their uniforms. That was Mallory's suggestion; apparently, she wasn't sure if their accelerated healing worked better in uniform or not, but if it did, they needed it. Mallory more so, by a huge margin.
"Try mine," Mallory said, voice thin.
No dice.
She bit her lip. "We can't wait 'til morning. Can you navigate us the way you are now?" She really didn't think she should be moving, but it was move now or stop being able to.
This was nightmare. This was the kind of situation people got into in horror movies. Stuff like this wasn't supposed to just happen.
"'Mm gonna have to try," she slurred.
Gwen stuffed Mallory's things back into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Looking back, the girl's closed-eyed sprawl across the couch rendered her incredibly still, and had she not spoken seconds before, Gwen might have been convinced she was looking at a cadaver. She swallowed, making her way back over.
"Well, come on, then." She tried to keep the dread out of her tone. "We need to head off."
/
Reality flickered in starts and stops. In the dark, Mallory hoped she was identifying the landmarks right as they seemed to appear before her like slides in a presentation. She wasn't sure how much of what she was seeing was actually there, though, and how much was her blood loss playing tricks in the night.
Every once in a while, she felt Gwen shift beside her, going for her phone. There would be a sudden light, she'd curse a little fretful noise and the light would disappear. Time would pass, and then repeat. She knew it had been a 2 hour walk from the ranger's station, but that would be closed at this time of night. She had no idea how much time had actually passed.
At one point, the light appeared, and she felt a hurried shuffle (ow) before Gwen's voice softly said, "Hello?"
There was more talking after that, but she couldn't keep track of it. The night blinked in her eyes.
And then she could see the highway stretching out before them, Carmen's dad's bulky Lexus LX tearing up the mountainside.
Okay. That was good enough.
She allowed herself to finally, finally pass out.
/
Mallory lounged back on the cot, the wounds in her abdomen throbbing painfully.
The hospital room (how long had her eyes been open?) pulsed in and out around her like film reel slowed waaaaaaay down. It was bright,
It was daytime.
She inhaled, trying to rouse herself from the tug that tried to pull her back under. The light pierced into her brain and she squinted against it. She began to push herself up so that she could see more than the non-descript tiles overhead to get her bearings.
That was immediately apparent as a mistake. She hissed sharply as stabbing pain shot through her abdomen. "No, no, no, don't get up," a voice tittered above, a familiar shape moving in above her to settle weight on her shoulders. Groaning, she laid back down with a thump, but that was also bad.
Through the little animated stars swirling around in her vision, the shape resolved to, of all people, Gwen, grimacing down at her and gently pulling back from her shoulders. The frown stayed on her face as she backed up, giving her space.
Gwen? What was she doing there?
She tracked back through her last memories, and slowly found inklings of what might have landed her there. Oh, yeah.
Oh, shit!
Her hand moved to her middle, which was somewhat numbed and cushioned with the feeling of bandages. Last she knew, she was doing a really shitty impression of a cactus cosplay. They must have pulled those pieces out, as the area felt smooth now.
Gwen watched her with what seemed like a level of nerves, but then Carmen's face came into view.
Her eyes were rimmed pink, and Mallory could hear the bedframe creak as she leaned over. "I'm so sorry!" She blubbered, bob of caramel hair unusually unkempt.
Mallory frowned, more than she would have already been frowning in a stated of marked pain. 'What are you sorry for?" the words were slightly garbled in her mouth.
"If I hadn't convinced you guys to go alone, the rest of us would have been there to help," Carmen sniffed. "I didn't even think about you guy's safety! It was so stupid!"
"Can you summon monsters all a' sudden?" She said, and Carmen stopped. "Cause unless you can, you couldn't've known there was a monster. If you can though, you are in trouble, because that could be a real tact'al advantage and I would be mad if you hadn't mentioned it—"
Carmen hugged her gently around the shoulders. "Well," she said. "You sound like yourself." She pulled back then tugged her phone from her pocket. "I'm going to call Rory."
"For real, though," she heard a familiar voice say by the doorway—she was able to tilt her head up just slightly to see Narma leaning up against the door. "That thing kabobbed you, no joke. The doctor says it's a miracle the wood didn't pierce any major organs."
They must have had the same thought at the same time, because she and Gwen looked at each other. "Yeah. That's..." The girl grimaced. "...really lucky."
"I still don't think that was it," Mallory grumbled from her recline, and Gwen just shrugged lightly whilst their comrades looked on, confused.
"It could be said that that was understandable, given the circumstances."
Mallory blinked at the new voice, and she tilted her head a little further to see Gwen's sister sitting in a chair nearby. Oh. Okay. Not one she would have expected, though she supposed Gwen had been attacked too.
"If I did it," said Gwen, "I didn't do it on purpose." Crossing her arms, her gaze flicked over to Mallory in the bed.
Boy, she wished she were wearing her shades; maybe she could make out that expression better. Also, ow?
Gwen said, "If you're wrong, than it just would have made it worse." She turned, moving for the doorway. "I'm going to get some air."
"Get two," Mallory said flatly.
Around her, the atmosphere was tense. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carmen take the available chair she assumed Gwen had left behind. Mallory said, "She seems...pretty spooked."
"She didn't like the bus either, and we weren't even really in that one," said Sylvia without inflection.
"Well, the doctors did say you are supposed to be in here for a week at least. This wasn't exactly a paper cut." Narma said flatly, and Mallory balked (she could not be stuck in here for a week.). "What was it, anyways?" Narma seemed content to stay by the door, despite the room's occupancy dwindling.
Mallory groaned. "Big miasma-ass muk-looking gelatin man-hand having motherfucker," Mallory summarized. "Showed up around back of the house we were checking out, nearby this tower thing—" Remembering what she had seen, she promptly tried to sit up again, before failing completely. She whimpered, feeling the pull of some kind of stitches. "Dammit, guys, listen. I saw these boxes by the tower (like a radio tower), and at the time I couldn't remember where I'd seen them. But I remember now. Guys, I think I know what have been causing the earthquakes lately."
/
The moment Erin woke up that morning, her eyes flew to the time: 8:05 AM.
She went to her laptop first. Her heart pounded as she went to her email, and then leapt when she saw the message waiting inside. Response to your inquiry on Seattle Athletics Camp. She had never clicked on something so fast, and braced over her laptop like a
Erin,
I'm happy to hear you are interested in our camp! Our session for the summer has just ended, but we do have a fall session upcoming.
To provide more detail, the Seattle Athletics Camp is a fit and fun seasonal camp for students in the Washington area, with itineraries for both youth (8-12) and adolescent (13-18) groups. We offer a variety of unique athletic experiences, including classes in specialized sports and more adventurous excursions in the beautiful woodland...
Erin's ears were ringing and the rest of the emailed pitch tunneled in her vision. She backed away from the laptop, staring down at the thing as though it had personally attacked her.
Students.
Students?
She thought back to the footage she had scene of the soldiers. Tried to recall their proportions: height, weight, body dimensions. Under the alien glamour of holographics, could those have been adolescents? Not small children, certainly, but teens?
...maybe. Uncertainly, she reached out and gently closed the laptop, email still open. Yes, it wasn't out of the question. And it would explain the camp: a group of teenagers going to camp together.
She...didn't know how to feel about this.
Retreating to the kitchen, she leaned against the table. There was a pit in her chest. Children, basically. She had known the risks. She had a visceral awareness of the horrors she had caused, by her own hands, but she had never meant for children to get hurt. And this was no accidental act, this was a mission. She ran her thumb over the surface of her locket, feeling the grooves of the engraving. Were these the targets she was meant to hunt?
...she couldn't back out now. If she backed out now, all that pain would have been for nothing. She had to follow through.
Something niggled at her though. Why did the factor of them being students ping at something in her brain? Why did that feel...?
Frowning, she moved to her bag, pulling out the folder her notes had been messily replaced in. She went back through the list of sightings.
A young reporter had been attacked by a creature back several months ago and had claimed to have been saved by a soldier.
And then...
Her eyes widened. She snatched up the paper from her bed, fingers creating small rips. She didn't care. This was...
The second ever sighting of the Soldiers had been in a school.
A high school.
Why had none of the research she performed ever considered this? Perhaps the public was simply reluctant to consider the ones putting themselves on the front lines for them could have been a child, but this!
Garfield High School. What if the soldiers didn't show up to the school because they heard trouble, what if they were there because they were already in the school?!
Erin sucked in air like she was suffocating. And here! Another sighting! A choir concert, the same school!
How many girls could there be in one high school? She snapped the computer back open, the device creaking in protest. The searched the name, bringing up the school's demographics.
950.
Roughly. Not as few as she would have liked, but hell if it wasn't a start.
She wondered how difficult it was to hack into student records.
/
The last twenty-four hours had been some of the most excruciating of Gwen's life.
That wasn't even taking into account the damage she had taken in battle, the uncomfortable scrapes and stress she had endured trying to work out what the heck she could even do. It was the walk back—the trek through two hour's worth of forest in the pitch darkness, just hoping Mallory was aware enough not to take them over a cliffside, not knowing if the other girl was going to be okay or not with veritable spears of wood impaling her in the stomach and no signal to speak of, had been the worst.
Her stomach had never been tied up in so many knots. What if they didn't make it in time? What if eccentric, sharp-tongued Mallory, Mallory who was funny without trying to be, Mallory that she liked, just, as a person? Died before they could get back to civilization because she didn't know anything about fighting monsters and hadn't been able to help?
What if she caused this?
It only got worse as the signal failed and failed to get through until finally, it did.
She had no idea how her friends were blaming themselves. Why weren't they blaming her?
She'd spent ten minutes in the hospital bathroom scrubbing Mallory's blood out her jacket where it had soaked in in the car, and had put it back on sopping. This...this, was a lot. She needed some air. After she'd stood uselessly in the lobby for about ten minutes, she realized that wasn't getting her anywhere and she headed back to the room.
Mallory was already speaking when she came in. "—was an EMP machine. That's where the earthquakes are coming from."
Gwen frowned. "What, what's happening?" What did the earthquakes have to do with anything?
The others turned to look at her. Mallory raised her gaze. "Do you remember those boxes at the bottom of the radio tower we found?"
Not really, but now that she mentioned it... "Maybe," she said slowly.
Mallory's eyes focused on her. She seemed to have found her glasses, so, hey, maybe she could even see her. "EMP generators. Big ones. The biggest I've ever seen by far."
Gwen blinked. Her first instinct was to try and connect the creature's big-boy EMF signals to that fact, but it still didn't seem to make any sense. "What would be the point of that?"
"The earthquakes," Sylvia piped up flatly. "Mallory says that strong EMP signals can cause earthquakes."
"Really strong," Mallory clarified. "Stronger than we have the technology for right now. It's been observed on a small scale, but in order to cause the kind of minor quakes that we have been experiencing recently? This would have to some ground breaking tech."
Gwen held a hand up. "Okay. Interesting, but why do we think the earthquakes are related at all?"
Mallory sat back. "Well the presence of the EMP machines is weird, in general. With the monster showing up right there, and giving off the same kind of signal, it's honestly just a theory that it is related." She leaned forward, then winced, aborting the motion.
Carmen moved to hold the girl's shoulder down with two fingers. "You're too dramatic for your health —"
"But if they are related," she said, decidedly louder, maybe to make up for not being able to move, "then it's really important that they're related."
"Okay." Gwen waited.
Mallory continued. "Let's say the tower is meant to be causing the earthquakes. It still had satellite dishes, so it is being operated remotely. But why?" She flicked a finger towards the girl she didn't know as well, Norma, maybe? No, wait, Narma. "Narma did a quick check for me, and every time the Urchin has shown up—or Spindly Legs, that last time—there's been an earthquake nearby. Not always in the city, but close." She kept her finger raised, but already, excuse me? "Before that, Spindly Legs always caused the lights to go out. Our theory was that that happened because it was sucking up the power, but what if we were wrong? First, the lights went out, then earthquakes. What if those things are being used to power the creatures?"
Gwen's brow furrowed, and she shook her head. "Is that even possible?"
"The power always surged first," Narma said grimly.
"But that's a weak source," Mallory said pointing, excitement in her tone, "just plain Jane electricity. Now, geothermal energy? That's the big guns. Better energy? Better monster."
Gwen thought about it for a moment, but only felt regret creeping in. "We should have destroyed it while we were there, then." Then, maybe the monsters wouldn't have enough power to show up, from what it sounded like.
"No, it's fine," Mallory hissed. "That still tells us two really important things, if we're right."
Gwen stared at her for a minute, in one part relieved to see the fire rekindled in her, but also not thrilled to be giving her new reasons to throw herself into danger. She shrugged helplessly. "...I hope it's a good payoff. Lay it on me."
Mallory said, "Firstly, satellites have a limited range."
Gwen's eyes widened. "Oh shit, wait, so we should be able track it?"
She shrugged. "We should at least be able to get a perimeter on where it could have come from. That might be the best we can do, but it's better than nothing. Especially since part of that should be the middle of the woods, and therefore easy to spot."
Heck; that was something. She peered around to the others, looking for some hint of what they might know. She turned her gaze back to Mallory. "Okay. What's the other thing?"
Mallory lowered her voice, and Gwen strained to hear her. "If this person is using geothermal energy and never-before-seen EMP generators, that's science, not some superpower. These things were created, not popped out of the air by some magic bullshit like last time."
Gwen didn't know enough about 'last time' for that info to be helpful.
Mallory narrowed her eyes. "We're not looking for creature. We're looking for a person."
Just then, a woman entered the room behind her. Mallory visibly tensed. "Mallory! Now what they hell happened this time?"
Gwen plastered herself to the door at the woman's tone. Who was this, exactly?
The other girls looked to each other awkwardly, as though they had some kind of insider knowledge as to what was going on there. Which, come to think of it, they probably did.
"So," said Mallory, steepling her hands. "I may have fallen on this broken-up tree trunk situation."
The woman, older, rounder with a purpling face, smacked her hands on her hips with finality. "Like hell you did!"
Mallory slowly lowered her hands until a single finger remained up. It looked like, but wait, no, you're supposed to believe that.
Gwen stared between them wide-eyed as she remained plastered to the door.
Something told her this was about to get awkward.
/
Needless to say, Mallory wasn't doing so hot.
Rory wished she could have been there when she woke up—she didn't want girl to think she didn't care. But she was going to be confined to the hospital bed for about a week, so it wasn't like she wasn't going to get any opportunities.
She'd come in just in time to see Mallory's foster care lady (she insisted they not refer to her as mom) going absolutely ham. She didn't believe the "fell on an old tree trunk" story for a second (it was the best they could come up with!), and so Mallory was super grounded, which seemed a little unfair.
Of course, that wasn't the only worry Rory was keeping track of at the moment.
Namely, the new gang.
She had tracked down one of those street names she'd first heard at the last meeting (it was crazy that she could even remember, after the drama with Tyrell) and had watched it for several nights. What she found out was that there were several guys working the area, stopping into what looked like an old hotel then dipping out with bags. From what Tyrell had told her, she knew they were mostly likely chock full of guns.
"They call themselves The Crimson Roots," Tyrell had told her as Sailor Boreas when she had confronted him the other day. He'd spoken so quiet, like he was afraid they might have been hiding in the shadows like ghost.
She'd thought the name was pretty lame, but her skepticism quickly chilled as he began to explain.
"They want to completely dominate the arms trade in the US. The last city I was in was the most recent in dozens they got their hands in—they move in, find out whoever is doing the most in the city, then either make deals or wipe them out. They're completely brutal," he gave a small shudder. "They figure if they the biggest force already, that's no competition left to come at them. It's actually pretty smart, if they got the fire power. I don't even know where they got so many pieces in the first place." He took a shaky breath, looking at her more directly. "But that's why I've got to stick around. It I can find some kind of chink in their network, I might be able to give the police an in. This isn't just Seattle in trouble; it's the whole country. They plant their roots, then leave. And they just keep growing."
So, that was kind of a big problem.
It only renewed Rory's anxiety about the whole thing. Let's say she somehow took down all the guys in the city. With what Tyrell was saying, wouldn't more folks just come in behind them? This gang sounded huge! She was starting to think she was in a bit over her head here. It didn't matter, though—there was too much at stake now for her to back out.
She stood on the roof across from the building, trying to come up with the best way to get in. The place had been crawling with guys; no way was she going to sneak in the back the way she had at the last spot. And there were no convenient handholds up to the upper windows, so that was out. It was a hotel—could there have been an entrance on the roof?
As she stood to make her way across to that side of the road, she heard the chilling sound of a safety being disengaged behind her, and she froze. "I don't think I even gotta' tell you not to move right now."
Rory—no, Sailor Boreas, it was go time—raised her hands slowly. "No, I get it," she said.
"We don't especially appreciate you putting our boys away," the guy said.
She slowly turned around—it was the one guy, thin, with the end of his bandana trailing out behind him like a fin. Shark. "I can understand that," she said slowly. Disguising it with a blink, she peered back to the ledge behind her for just a second. How far down was that? Could she reach her scepter in time? She watched him carefully. If she didn't, she was definitely going to get shot. "But you understand why I gotta do what I gotta do, right? I want you guys to leave Seattle alone."
The guy tensed his chin as though he were actually considering it, and she took another step back. The edge was right there. "Nah. Afraid that just doesn't line up with the works we got going, unfortunately." He raised the jump.
Sailor Boreas stepped back—and over the edge.
"Shit!" She heard the guy curse from above, but she was more concerned about using that half-second to call a gust below her as she grabbed the scepter. She must have been getting really quick on the draw, because fractions of seconds before she landed the gust rushed in and cushioned her fall. She tried to ride the wind a distance away, but yelped when two guys emerged from the alley she was headed towards and grabbed her arms.
She thrashed as they escorted her towards the warehouse.
As they entered, she could see what looked like bins that had been hastily covered. There were several guys around—maybe fifteen? More than she had ever fought before, to be sure.
She gritted her teeth, in the back, she noticed Tyrell. She'd been watching people coming in and out—had she missed him? If not, he had to have been there for hours. He froze when he saw her, and she diverted her attention immediately. She didn't want to draw attention to him. Besides, she had bigger problems right now?
"What have we got here?"
She recognized the guy who stepped forward as the cool, collected guy who had seemed to be in charge in the meeting she had observed before. Tyrell had mentioned the guy up top there was called Harlo—was this him? She shuddered, yanking her shoulder away from the grip that held her, but no give. This guy was strong.
Maybe Harlo? Harlo-until-proven-otherwise eyed her with an air of unconcern. His hands were folded before himself, but she didn't miss the gun in his waistband.
"I'm kind of glad you showed up. I think we need to have a chat."
That surprised her. "'Bout what?" Sailor Boreas frowned. "I would have thought you would have just up and shot me." Maybe not the best option to mention, come to think of it. Too late now.
But the man shook his head. "Now, you see, that's just making us sound like a bunch of thugs. But we can be reasonable." His playful tone dropped sharply. "See, we figure you might be better to us alive, if you're willing to compromise."
Like she was going to compromise with gangbangers! Still, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going on in these guy's heads. She narrowed her eyes, though she wasn't sure how much they were actually able to make out her facial expressions through the filter. "What do you mean by 'compromise?'?"
The guys looked to each other. Behind her, she was distinctly aware of how strong their grips were, waiting for any sign they might be faltering. Of course, even if they did, the likelihood she would be able to get away before they pulled their arms was unlikely, to say the least.
"We need some help weeding out the competition, you feel me? And we figure it might be mighty helpful to have some kind of super-powered freak on our side."
She clenched her teeth. I'll show you freak. "I'm not going to be some kind of lackey for you."
Harlo quirked an eyebrow. "Whadda you mean? You'd still be taking out the bad guys. You've just be taking out selective bad guys. That sounds like a good business strategy to me."
"While you get too big to manage?" She spit. "Doesn't sound very smart to me."
Probably-Harlo laughed. Behind him, some of the other guys chuckled, and chills went up her back. Tyrell looked away. He said, "Girlie, we're already too big to manage. Don't know if you heard."
Sailor Boreas leaned back, trying not to show her uncertainty show. Still, her mind with spinning 100 MPH. What if she died here? She kind of doubted she would say in uniform if she died, without any commands to call on. Who would tell her Mama? Who would even know? If they moved to kill her, would Tyrell try to stop it? Course, he didn't know any better.
No! She needed to focus, she couldn't worry about this kind of thing right now!
Harlo eyed her for a moment. "I tell you, that was really not what I was hoping you would say." Scratching at the scruff on his chin, he peered back to a couple of his cohorts, and Sailor Boreas eyed them with apprehension. "Tell you what. How about we give this girl somewhere nice and quiet to think? See if she wants to change her mind before we have to blow it out."
What the hell did that mean?! They began dragging her forward, and she dug her heels in, the sea of gangsters parting before her. Tyrell looked on, brows furrowed with discomfort.
She had to do something. But they had her scepter! The guy who had grabbed her had it clutched between his meaty fingers, out of her reach. Her eyes darted around, trying to see what they might be planning or otherwise some way out of this she might somehow be able to do—
Her head was ringing. Time seemed to slow, for only a moment, and as it did she realized it wasn't a soundless note ringing through her. She knew this feeling! But she didn't have her scepter!
Apparently, it didn't matter.
She could feel a sort of heat behind her eyes. Tensing both her hands, she cried out—"Whirlwind Retribution!"
She thought, Tyrell, please get out of the way.
It was immediate. In a second, a familiar nebulous wind, although missing the usual starry shrapnel, tore into the hotel lobby. The gangbangers were thrown off of her—she could have cried as she felt their grips torn away, and then she was standing again.
Turning, a Whirlwind formed a low ring in the center of the lobby, the blast having knocked most either back or into it. There were a few who remained inside, though, albeit disoriented. Her eyes darted around—where was the scepter?!
On the floor, she found the big guy with the dice tattoo still clutching it in his sweaty hands, rubbing his arm angrily over his eyes. She darted forward, grabbing onto it only to shriek as one of his hands flew up and grabbed her wrist. On reflex, she swung the toe of her boot out into his temple. He slumped.
Taking up the scepter, she spiraled looking for an exit. Below the still-swirling mass, she noticed a gap of no feet beneath the cyclone. Throwing herself under, she slid across the lobby's tile and under the attack, slipping through some distracted pairs of legs. She rolled over and scrambled to her feet, hearing the shocked bangers start to swear as she darted for the stairs.
"What are you guys doing?!" She heard Harlo bark through the rush of wind. "Go after her!"
The slam of her boots on the steps clattered around her as a rush of noise followed as those outside the Whirlwind clamored after her. Her muscles throbbed as she pushed herself all the way up, heading for the roof again.
Her chest heaved as broke out onto the roof top. Agh, dang, she'd forgotten—there wasn't a clear way down from this building! It's why she hadn't checked the roof first thing. She was going to have to use some especially creative parkour to get down—
She winced as the roof entrance burst open behind her, darting behind the hotel's giant ac unit, trying to just stay out of sight.
"She ain't got nowhere to go," one guy grumbled. It was a hotel, yeah, but the space was not that big. And there were only so many places to hide. It would only be a minute before they found her.
Her eyes scanned around. There was nothing hanging off this building to grab onto, but the next building over (much, much shorter) had a railing walling in the first window. If she jumped, could she reach it?
"Hey!" Barked a voice across the roof. "There she is! Ty, get her!"
Eyes widening, Sailor Boreas turned to see Tyrell, frozen, a few feet from her.
They were watching. What could they do? If they weren't careful, this could bust them is about two seconds.
Then, Tyrell hissed, "Punch me!"
She boggled at him for a moment.
"Punch me!" He hissed again.
She punched him.
It wasn't a great hit—course, she wasn't especially trying for it to be. He played it as if it was, though—he toppled to the ground, holding his cheek, and she backed up before they could react and launched herself off the roof.
It was a terrifying moment. All the times her blood had pounded with the excitement of free-running, she knew she was in control, knew the limits of her own body. Just then, she was praying. The alley seemed to gape up at her like a maw.
Her hand caught the rail. The shock of the impact rattled through her arm, and she was pretty sure she nearly pulling the thing from the socket. Swinging back, she braced her feet on the ledge under the window and pulled up, catching the momentum to vault herself up.
Just barely, she grabbed the ledge of the rooftop. Feet kicking, she tugged herself up.
"Goddammit," she heard the curse from above. "Get out of the way."
She broke into a run, boots kicking up gravel and she heard it before she felt it.
There was an echoey crackle in the air, and she felt suddenly like the wind had been knocked out of her.
Then pain racketed across her right ribs.
She gasped, and then couldn't really exhale because her chest was clamping down on the shriek that wanted to come out. Hand flew out and her side burned.
Was she...was she shot?
Her ears were ringing. She kept running.
She lost track of the lots that passed her. By the time she found a building low enough to drop off of moments later, she had no idea if they were still behind her or not.
The garbage cans in the alley clanged together as she clipped them dropping down. Immediately, she twisted to the side, wrenching a sharp yelp out of her and she searched her side in the dark.
There was a prominent hole in the fabric, and she whimpered as she pulled the fabric away from the wound. Her side was shiny, and as she drew her hand back, she saw red glinting from her fingertips.
At 2:00 AM, Rory stood in a downtown alleyway and had no idea what to do.
