Chapter Fifty-Two: Shifting Power
This time Don did gulp. A little saying about a frying pan and a fire comes to mind right about now.
The entire room froze. Time itself paused, which was considerate of it, since Don's mind was reeling. Shredder! Where did he come from? Why did he have to choose now to show up? How on earth do we get out of this alive? We're between a rock and a hard place! We're between a war criminal and a… well, he's probably a war criminal too, come to think of it. Not helping, brain!
The Gamer had the audacity to bow. "Shredder, it's an honor to finally be in your presence. Allow me to explain how I've been serving you in your absence-"
"Turtles," Shredder growled, as if the Gamer hadn't spoken, "You've strayed too far from your-"
An idea burst into Don's mind. He didn't have time to analyze whether it was a good idea or not. He sprang on it.
"Pahliak!" He burst out. The beast's head swung toward him, furious brown eyes locking onto his. "Anashu Nafti bev tauren!" Don pointed directly at the Shredder.
Unlike anyone who had ever met the Shredder before, Pahliak did not hesitate. He charged.
"Raph!" Don cried, skittering backward out of the way. Mikey leapt out of Pahliak's path as well. "Shoot him! Balloon!"
Shredder was in the act of drawing his katana and Pahliak was in midair, about to tackle him, when Raph's dart landed square in Pahliak's back.
He roared, impacted with Shredder, and they both vanished.
Don's jaw dropped open. I can't believe that worked. He shook himself. He'll be back, though. Pahliak won't be a real danger to him, and he'll figure out a way to get back to Earth eventually.
Astonished silence reigned in the room for three seconds.
Then four turtles turned to face one human.
The Gamer shrank into himself. "Uh, I don't think you guys need to… It was just a game, guys!"
Don planted his bo on the tiled floor with a thunk. "Put him in the gaming cubicle. Where he forced me to play a game for my life."
Raph and Leo, faces grim, marched through the door, up the steps, and up to the Gamer. The human offered panicky protests, empty threats, and flimsy excuses, but no physical resistance, as the pair grabbed his arms and hustled him over to the booth.
Mikey held open the door. "After you," he said with a bow.
"Uh, we don't really need to go in here," the Gamer said, his voice wavering a little. "It's really not necessary."
Don approached as the trio arrived in the middle of the booth. Now, time for that plan.
"Want to play a game?" Don asked, fire in his eyes. "Vivid graphics. Unexpected gameplay."
The Gamer laughed. His face and body language lost any sign of fear; he was back to his cocky self instantly. "You're going to put me in my own game, Opponent? That's rich! You forgot one teeny little thing, silly turtle." He leaned toward Don. He spoke with low intensity. "I'm the game developer. I know the code inside and out. Even as a player, I can access it."
Don regarded him evenly. Yes, I know.
"Even if you do put me in," the Gamer added, his lip curling into a sneer, "and even if you do stick me with the needle… you mutants can't wait around to watch me beat the game. Morning's light is coming.It's time for freaks of nature to retreat to the sewers. Underground. Where no one will see you."
Don's knuckles turned white around his bo. That's enough of that. "Raph," he said, still locking eyes with the Gamer. "My Opponent has given me such a wonderful game over the past week or so. I can't imagine how much work he put into planning and designing these levels and challenges for me. All for the privilege of rescuing my own family. How kind of him." He narrowed his eyes. "I think he deserves a balloon."
Raph was ready.
Leo dropped his hold as if the Gamer's arm had suddenly turned into a sword blade. Raph, in one motion, released his own grip with one hand while the other snatched a dart from his belt. Without bothering with the blowgun, Raph jabbed the dart directly into the Gamer's arm.
With a surprised expression frozen on his face, the Gamer vanished into thin air.
The turtles stared at the spot where he had been.
Is he really gone? Did we finally defeat him? Don's knees wobbled again as his head filed a new complaint; the lights suddenly seemed too bright. Not a moment too soon, that's for sure.
"There," Raph finally said. "The shellhead got a one-way ticket ta who-knows-where."
"Is everyone all right?" Leo said. His eyes scanned his other two brothers quickly, but lingered on Don. "Don? Can you run?"
Mikey buzzed over to the forgotten duffel and slung it over his shoulder. "That was awesome, bro! You saved our bacon with that trick, Donnie. I can't believe you sicked that guy on the Shredder!"
"It was quick thinking," Leo said, "and it probably saved our lives, but we can't talk here. We've got to go."
"Fearless is right," Raph growled. He eyed Don. "You all right, Donnie?"
Don shook his head, ignoring the quivering exhaustion creeping into his body and mind. There's no time to coddle me. Besides, we accomplished what we came here for. "I'm fine. Let's…" On second thought: no, we didn't. "Wait. One thing."
Leo and Raph exchanged a look and that silent communication they had as Don lurched into the computer chair where Leo had been and jiggled the mouse. He spoke without looking up. "Raph, are there more darts?"
"Ten more that I saw," Raph growled, already moving toward the door to the storage room.
As Don closed the program for controlling an NPC, he caught a glimpse of the voice lines Leo had had available to him. Whoa. That's disorienting. It felt so immersive when I was in the game. Relying on his vast programming knowledge and his memory of earlier, before he'd been stuck with that needle, Don broke through the network's defenses and found the Gamer's files. Namely, the "Terrapin" one. A few vicious commands rendered the file corrupted.
"Whoops," Don said, clicking out and standing up, "the Gamer's files on us somehow got ruined in the fight. What a shame."
"Too bad, so sad." Mikey sighed theatrically.
"Great work, Don."
"Heh. Nice work, brainiac." Raph stuffed the extra darts, which thankfully had safety caps, into the duffel.
"Ready? Let's blow this popsicle stand!" Mikey led the way out the hall door.
The four turtles fled down the hall and up toward the roof as quietly as possible and as quickly as Don's shaky legs could manage. Raph stayed behind Don and refused to pass him. They didn't see any Foot, besides a few leftover unconscious ones from their infiltration, but they could sense the building—and the city—beginning to awake around them. It's way past time we left.
Once back on the roof, although Don had already disabled the relevant cameras and alarms upon their arrival, they paused to scan for traps, alarms, or ambushes. It seemed safe, so they leapt to the next roof. Good thing I've got muscle memory for roof traversal, even with an exhausted body and a foggy mind. This is a million times easier than fighting Pahliak after beating a tower full of Foot ninjas.
"Get down!" Raph hissed; everyone melted into shadow.
Turning like a ghost, Don peered through a gap between some pipes. On an adjacent roof ledge, he saw a figure standing frozen—he blinked hard, but the figure remained. Leo? He turned his head and saw a second Leo beside him.
After a long, breathless moment, the distant Leo turned away and disappeared into darkness. The group breathed again.
"Leo?" Mikey whispered.
Leo nodded. He looked remarkably calm for a turtle who had just seen his past self. "Time travel. I scoped out that roof alone, but it was too much for me to tackle alone. It was the night Casey and Taevon got back."
"Whoa, that's trippy, bro." Mikey shook his head. "Time travel is weird. Good thing you didn't see you, or the universe woulda exploded or something."
Don resisted the urge both to comment on this and the urge to contemplate the nature of time travel repercussions.
"I sensed something—that's why I stopped—but I didn't sense danger."
"Fascinating," Don murmured. "You didn't know it was us, but perhaps your instincts did in some way."
Leo stood, shooting his brother an amused glance. "Let's go. The Foot will find their unconscious friends sooner or later."
No pursuit arose. Well, that's a little good luck. And I guess we did show the Gamer a thing or two. Even if it didn't end up using our fists. Shell, now that he's gone, I can admit that even with what he did to us, beating up a physically defenseless creep isn't our style. Exiling him to some other world is better. That unknown place will surely mete out judgement for us.
The journey seemed like an epoch to Don, who found himself flagging more and more as the effects of drug withdrawal, an all-night jog, and an intense mental workout continued to kick in. Leo, leading the way, looked back at Don often, and chose an easier route than he might normally. Mikey gave him a boost on a few of the trickier roof jumps. Raph stuck just behind him like a staticky shadow, watching his every move, which was both smothering and reassuring. Finally, they landed, catlike—except for Don, who took the landing heavily—on a familiar roof.
Thank goodness. Don leaned over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily. Shell, I feel like an old turtle again. A wimp. He straightened slowly and found three pairs of eyes on him.
"What's th' diagnosis, doc?"
"I've told you not to call me that, Raph," Don grumbled. He waved a hand. "Obviously I can't know for sure without taking some blood and a microscope, et cetera, but I think I'll be fine. I just need rest, a lot of water, and maybe some monitoring."
"Do you know what he put in you, Donnie?" Mikey's eyes were huge.
"That's what I just said—of course I don't!" Don snapped.
Mikey looked hurt. Whoops. I guess part of withdrawal is a tendency toward irritability. I'm still responsible for my actions, of course.
I'm sorry, Mikey. I'm sorry. I'm just-" He dragged a hand across his face. "I think it was a fun and exciting mix of drugs he put in my system to help integrate me into the game world, keep me high-energy, forget the outside world, that sort of thing. Now it's wearing off, and my body has to filter out the toxins. It'll mostly do that on its own, but drinking a lot of water, and maybe some charcoal, will help it."
Leo nodded. "And of course, you were jogging or sprinting almost constantly when you were playing the game, and since you were on some sort of treadmill, you were expending that energy in real life, too." He put his hand on Don's shoulder. "That was akin to a marathon, even for a physically fit body."
"Yeah, that too," Don said. He could feel his whole body trembling. "But I should be fine in a few days. Really." He met each of his brothers' eyes. "Thank you… for rescuing me this time."
"You did most o' it, brainiac," Raph said, clapping him on the shoulder. Looking closely, Don saw pride gleaming in his eyes.
"Maybe you should call him 'Gamer,' now, Raph," Mikey said, grinning. "Since he's such a good gamer, he beat a really big game that coulda killed him! And he beat the Gamer!"
"Ugh, no, let's not." Don groaned, but despite his exhaustion, he found Mikey's grin infectious.
"Let's get Don inside," Leo said, a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Our victorious brother. And all of us. Victorious. We all beat the Gamer."
Dawn was arriving as the brothers slipped in through the fire escape window into the messy-but-cozy sanctuary of Casey's apartment.