Chapter Ten: Travels and Lack Thereof

"Quick, through here! Run faster!"

Casey skidded into the dusty alley between the rough planks of the mercantile and the ruddy bricks of the bank and willed his long legs to pound faster. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Taevon ran just ahead, panting and chortling. "I had… no idea… it was possible… to anger a whole town… so quickly!"

"Why on earth are you laughin', dude?" Casey snapped. "I think dey want to kill me!" He glanced back to see the furious townsfolk of this late 1800s Old West town spilling into the alley.

Taevon just whooped as he and Casey turned right onto another street.

"I thought you said dey weren't gonna be able to see me!" Casey shouted.

Taevon sprinted across the street and ducked into another alley; Casey followed. In another moment, the Jior had stopped behind some sort of shed—or, ugh, the smell indicated something other than a shed—and Casey joined him.

Bending to put his hands on his knees, Taevon gasped for air, but he grinned like Mikey at the prospect of going sewer boarding. "Great Parvoss and… Lady Lamaki, I haven't… had this much fun… since watching… Lichtenstein go to war… with eighty men… and come back… with eighty-one."

Casey eyed him, then threw up his hands. "Great. Just great. I'm stuck with a crazy guy."

This didn't faze the Jior, who was still catching his breath.

Raph, this would be way more fun with you.

Shouts and footsteps sounded out on the street. Taevon took one more deep breath and straightened. "Okay, we'd best leave." His whisper sounded British again. "Just like before, close your eyes and think really hard about the place… you want to go. What place, so I can meet you there? And in what time? It's easier to follow if I know where you're going."

"Uh…"

The voices of the town's angry mustachioed men and a few women drew nearer. Casey shut his eyes. "London," he said. "That big bridge. Sherlock Holmes."

"Tower Bridge in the Victorian Era it is, then," Taevon said. "Think about what it looks like really hard, and then… just wish to be there."

"Check behind that outhouse!" A deep voice shouted.

Casey scrunched his face, pictured the bridge as best as he could remember, and wished to be there.

Just like before, for what seemed like forever, it didn't seem like anything was happening—but finally, his body felt like it was being blown up like a balloon, and then squeezed, and then—

Casey gasped and his blue eyes flew open. He was neck-deep in the Thames River, looking up at the Tower Bridge, in a downpour. And just like last time, he was so tired, he felt like he'd been out until dawn fighting goons with Raph.

Wednesday morning

Don stared at the city map spread out on the little table before him. A red thumbtack marked the roof from which Casey and Raph had disappeared. A blue pen lay along the road which had transported Leo, Mikey, and Master Splinter. An orange twelve-sided die that had inexplicably been in the table's pen cup indicated the building where Mikey had been brought temporarily, and where Don had found his nunchaku and Master Splinter's walking stick. Meanwhile, a bit of string curled along the path of the subway train where Splinter had been. A scrap of paper labeled 'false lead-trap' lay on yesterday's Foot-filled surprise.

There was no particular pattern, which was disappointing but unsurprising, especially since he'd only rescued one family member so far—completed "Level 1," as the Gamer had congratulated him in a text an hour after his rescue of Splinter. A text earlier this morning had read simply, "Level 2 loading."

I thought this was going to be a speed run, but he's really making me wait in between rescues. Don clenched his fist. Meanwhile, there's no telling how he's treating Leo or Mikey, and how Casey and Raph are in whatever strange places he's sent them to.

Creaking and a sigh made Don turn to his left. Saja stood up and set down a book on the couch behind her before putting her shoulder bag on. She walked over, and the turtle watched her as she came. She seems much, much better compared to when she arrived, he thought, but still dangerously tired compared to normal, healthy levels.

Saja opened her mouth, then paused, staring at Don, before turning to make a detour to the computer desk, where she picked up Don's side of the translating device.

She handed it to him, and he clipped it to the edge of his plastron with thanks, leaving the device itself on the table.

"So." She raised her arms and then let them fall. "What need to take with me to find brother your—to get R-Raph?" She struggled over the still-unfamiliar name.

Don eyed her. "Saja. You can't go yet. You still look like you're going to pass out if you try to run anywhere, much less using your magic or power or whatever to travel to another world. It clearly takes a ton of energy. You can't find and rescue anybody if you fall over as soon as you get there."

Saja thought for a moment. "What should take with me, when I go?"

"Hmmm." Don gestured toward his desk. "His sai—that red-handled weapon that looks a bit like a trident or fork," he added at her confused brow. "Maybe some medical supplies, if there's room in your bag. You've got some already? That's fine. And…" he grabbed for a pen from the cup with his right hand, and reached for some blank paper from across the table with his left hand. Saja scooched it closer.

"Thanks." Don thought for a moment, then scribbled a note to assure Raph if and when Saja found him. Given how I only just mostly, more or less trust her after more than a day, and I'm a much more lenient turtle, Raph will be hard to convince. Oh, better make sure to mention that I'm not at swordpoint or gunpoint. Nope, not under duress—at least, not from her.

He signed his nickname, folded the paper, and handed it to Saja, who carefully tucked it in her shoulder bag.

She gulped, and Don frowned.

"You okay?"

Her hands smoothed the edge of her worn, frayed navy tunic. "Nervous, a bit. Never took another person to different place, only me," she said, looking down.

"What?" Don could feel his blood pressure rising. "You've never teleported someone with you before? How do you know you can? What would happen if you couldn't? Why didn't you mention this before?"

The girl had taken several steps backward. "Sorries. I—sorries. I- My family, others, friends who are Jior can. I… did before the elders—before." She jolted herself straight and reluctantly made eye contact. "I almost sure can take brother with me. Very, almost sure. If cannot…" She touched her right index finger to her heart. "He will not be harm."

Don shook his head, forcing himself to relax. Well, that was almost a stroke. Shell, I wish my hands weren't tied like this—if I trust her, it's incredibly hard on her, and possibly dangerous for her, and maybe Raph too. If I don't trust her… I have absolutely no idea how to get to Raph. All of my tests and research has told me next to nothing about the dart.

Besides, if I look at this from her point of view, she teleported to a new place she's never been, overheard that her host's family was in trouble, and immediately offered to go help, despite her exhaustion and the danger. That's… incredibly brave, now that I think about it. The turtle closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly.

"All right," he said, managing a small smile at Saja, who still looked nervous at his small explosion, "I guess I have to trust that you're able to do what you've kindly offered to do. It's not easy for me to leave the rescuing of my brother to someone else. Saja…" he paused; the girl took a step forward. "Thank you. I'm sure this is hard for you, too, to come to a new place and have me so distracted by all this. If I wasn't waiting for the Gamer to go play his stupid game and rescue Mikey or Leo, I'd go with you-" he looked at her suddenly. "I can't go with you, can I? To get Raph? Is there time travel, too, or just place travel?"

Saja was already shaking her head. "Can only bring one person. Not two. And land of Othila and Da'an is shaky for two trips. And, no. Real Jior-" Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down suddenly, twisting her fingers in her tunic- "Jior can travel in time, but it's… No, I cannot."

The land where Raph's been sent is 'shaky?' Don took another calming breath. Not gonna think about it. Besides, Raph is an amazing fighter, if that's what 'shaky' means. Unrelated: what big humiliation or whatever happened in her past? Nope, Don, not a question you can ask. "Okay," he said evenly. "Head back to the couch for a little longer, okay?"

Saja nodded, and pointed at the translating device. "Put away for you."

"Oh, thanks." Don unclipped it and handed it to her. He turned back to the map, trying to think of any buildings that might be handy for the Foot, specifically the Gamer, to use, but he still kept his awareness of Saja as she went to his desk, and then back to the couch. She turned slightly, and the light glinted off something in her belt.

Don's head turned. She keeps her knife sheathed, so what was—uh, oh. It was Raph's sai. A wire dangled out of her other hand: the translating device.

"Saja-"

The girl, ignoring him, scrunched her face in concentration, closed her eyes, and vanished.

Wednesday, noon

Mikey was bored to tears. Almost literally. But even though his glass prison, which seemed to be a penthouse apartment stripped bare, held absolutely nothing, the real reason for crying would be the fact that he couldn't even bounce around in it. He couldn't tumble, run, attempt to climb up the walls toward the cameras, or anything. The orange-masked turtle almost stuck his lip out in a pout, but remembered just in time. He couldn't move around, and it was driving him crazy.

But, the reason was, he reminded himself, he was trying to be a good turtle and let his ankle—hurt when he was captured the night before last—heal a bit, so that when Don rescued him, he'd be ready. Don always says, ice it, wrap it, elevate it. I don't have ice or anything to wrap it with, but I'm elevating it.

Mikey shifted on his uncomfortable seat: a bay window looking out over the city, stripped of its gooshy cushion. He leaned over and gently felt at the ankle, schooling his face to show no emotion like when Master Splinter was really angry about something. I think it was just twisted, and it is better than yesterday, but ow, it needs another day or two. Maybe that crazy Gamer dude will have Don rescue Leo or Master Splinter next, and then rescue me. Yeah, that sounds good. As long as I don't go insanely insane first.

The turtle leaned back, face still blank, and took a deep breath before releasing it. He turned his face back to the window and stared out at the city, glowing under the noon sun.

Looking down, Mikey wished for x-ray vision to see down into the sewers, and specifically, the Lair. I really, really, really, just wanna be home right now. Raph would tease me about my ankle, and Leo would tell him to leave me alone while Donnie wrapped it up and put ice and on it and gave me tylenol, and we could all watch a movie or something…

He closed his eyes. Shell, no tears. Then they'd really call me a wimp.

He hunched over, bringing up his good knee and hugging it. He wanted to whimper, but he didn't dare.

Wednesday, early afternoon

Raph glared at the white metal bars as if he could melt them with his fury. He wanted to pound against them, but he had already felt the shock they carried. His fingers felt empty without his mismatched sais, which sat uselessly just across the hall. The same wooden shelf also held the weapons of his fellow prisoners—two Da'an, one hedgehog and one panda.

He turned and growled, "This place really needs a punching bag."

The hedgehog shrank away as if he feared Raph might substitute him in instead, but the panda snapped, "I already told you, be quiet or they'll spray that horrid alemnea on you!"

"Maybe us too," the hedgehog whispered.

Raph growled wordless rage and brushed past both of them to whack his fist against the very hard, but shock-free, gleaming white back wall. He had been having such a good time, relatively speaking when compared to the rest of his time here in this strange land, fighting with the Da'an to raid the southeast Othila base hidden in the sleepy forest. Early that morning they had geared up, all twenty or so of them, with available weapons, armor, and makeshift and/or repaired tubes to filter out the alemnea, before jumping onto a strange sort of open-sided helicopter or hovercraft or something. Don would've found the alien ship interesting, for sure. When they arrived, they had snuck up to a back entrance, and the raid team's brainiac hacked a door open, and they had all swarmed in.

But the Othila fight dirty. Someone had shouted a code word or something—the forgnathu hadn't picked it up—and the Othila, while defending against the attack, had either put in their tubes, or ran to go get some, and had attacked the Da'an filter tubes. With a loud beep, practically every pipe in the building had started issuing the hated alemnea gas. With many Da'an struggling with damaged filters, the Da'an leader had had to call a retreat. Raph and his two fellow prisoners had been the unlucky ones, with the least intact filters to begin with, and caught the furthest away from the door. That doesn't mean Raph hadn't gone down without a fight—no, he had taken down piles of Othila.

Raph chuckled to himself. Heh, if that wretched drug hadn't gotten into me, I bet I could've wrecked some more of their computers and techy stuff. As it is, I think I got three or four shuriken each into several computers. At least, I think they were computers. He smirked. Don would either be horrified or proud of me. I bet I gave that squirrel scientist a heart attack when he saw the damage.

When they woke up a bit dizzily, they had found themselves in this small cell, clearly intended for one. It seemed to be tucked in a back hallway of the base, but when Othila did pass through to get supplies, they glared or tossed harsh words at their prisoners. So far, Raph had been too angry to check for any weaknesses in the cell's design except the most basic; none of these showed promise.

Don, you'd better show up soon. Raph kicked the innocent wall at head level. I'm all done with this place. When I get home, I'm gonna go punch some Foot or Purple Dragons or something. Heh. Yeah, that'll be a good punching bag.