Cedars of Lawndale Hospital
"Hey. I'm Jane Lane."
"And I'm Jane Lane's friend!" said Quinn.
Jane raised an eyebrow as she sat on the bed in the ER. "You are?" she asked Quinn. However, it was no use as Quinn's moonstruck eyes were on the handsome ER doctor.
"Uh…okay." The young man had been hit on before. "I'm Doctor Mirra. Do you care if I have a look?"
"I thought you'd never ask," smiled Jane. Quinn helped Jane get the top layer of the uniform off and pull the white turtleneck over Jane's head.
"Eap! Jane, what happened to you?" Quinn pointed at Jane's chest.
"They're called 'breasts', Quinn. Nice of you to notice them and I – OWWW!!"
Mirra palpated Jane's chest. Jane had a large blue bruise over her sternum, not solid blue, but a collection of blue dots, concentrated over her chest and more diffuse the further one moved from her sternum. Mirra cautiously moved Jane's bra cup to the side, wishing to preserve her modesty. Sure enough, Jane's breasts, covered by her bra, were bruised as well, indicating that the blue covering was not some sort of spray.
"You've sustained a very nasty, diffuse hematoma," said Dr. Mirra. "Do you have any idea as to how you got it?"
"Yeah. I was shot. With something. I thought it was a bullet!."
"A bullet would have left a nice large entry wound. I'm going to do a chest X-Ray, Jane." Mirra put his cold stethoscope to Jane's back. "I want you to breathe."
Jane did so. Quinn gathered up Jane's clothes, and in so doing, heard a small sound, like a tiny –pak!- of something striking the ground. She looked about, then continued her work in turning Jane's turtleneck right side in. Something fell out and hit the floor.
"Hey! I think this is it!" Jane and Dr. Mirra looked as Quinn held up what appeared to be a small plastic pellet, the size of the type of pellets used to load shotguns….
(la la LA la la)
"Sandi, I want you out of here and I want you away from these people!" said Linda, in the waiting room, "you could get killed. I don't know what your friends are involved in but it sounds very very dangerous!"
"But Mo-oom!!" whined Sandi. "I want to be in the Legion!"
"You can be in the Fashion Club!"
"The Legion is, like, the Fashion Club only ten times more cool! You can't make me quit!"
"I can so make you quit, Alexandra Jeanne Griffin!"
"Why should I quit?"
"Sandi, you are in a lot of danger. You can be killed!"
"And why should that make a difference? Do you, like, think the police could protect me or something? From some maniac? Quinn throws lightning bolts! Daria can read minds! Jane can like, lift cars and stuff! If they can't protect me Mom – then I can't be protected at all!!"
"And what about us? What about Sam and Chris? What about your father and me? What if that crazy man drove up to our house? What would we do?"
"If I have the Legion, Mom, that's not going to happen! They have trailers and everything! I can live –with– the Legion! The Legion is the safest place I'm ever going to be! And they're…!" And they're my friends, and I don't want to be without them.
"How could you do that? Move in? That's a crazy idea!"
"Yes, Mom! I could move in! I could take all of my things and move in! Sam and Chris hate being in the same room anyway! It would be easier all around! Besides, I'm like, a public figure! And the Legion is really, really tough! I would be safer with them."
Silence.
"Mom, please don't take the Legion away from me. What could y—what could the police do for me that they can't do?"
Linda sat down. "Honey, honey…."
"Mom…!"
"Honey…you're right." Linda sighed. "You are right, Sandi. The Legion can protect you. But I can't." She looked down. "You should move in with them. You'll be much safer there."
"You mean…you're letting me go?"
"Yes, Sandi. You should stay with the Legion. God knows I don't like it…but…I have to make do with what I have. I…can't do this alone anymore…."
In Linda's weakest, most exhausted moment, Sandi ran over to her mother and hugged her. Sandi was thinking that her dreams were coming true. Whereas for Linda, it seemed only the briefest respite after the horrible realization that Sandi's abilities might be what brought nothing but disaster to Linda Griffin's family, instead of the triumph that Linda foolishly hoped they would be.
(la la LA la la)
Daria and Tiffany sat in a waiting room together.
"But…I don't get it," said Tiffany. "You're not with your frrrrrriend…Jane…."
"I had to get you back in one piece. And I think I got you all back." Except for your brain, which is still missing.
"Thanks. Bai Zhan said that yooou were the person I should talk to. You can always bring me back."
"Uh…sure." Daria was not entirely sure that Bai Zhan was not a figment of Tiffany's imagination. "So…you've not seen Bai Zhan again?"
"He watches us. With all the ghostly people."
"That is a damn weird story. I have to learn more about this Bai Zhan, and why he finds me so interesting. The last thing I need is a ghostly Peeping Tom. So why do I always have to be the one to tell you to come back? You should just come back on your own."
Tiffany looked sad. "Well…I don't know why. You're the only one who can do it right."
"And if I told you to stand on your head, you would do that, too?"
"Yoooou haven't asked meeee."
Daria smiled. -- Stand on your head, Tiffany!
Tiffany immediately stood up and bent over, putting her hands to the ground. She tried to stand on her head, but had no balance and flipped over onto her back with a loud thud.
"Owwww….why did you do that?"
"I didn't!" said Daria. "You don't have to do whatever I tell you to do!"
"But…I couldn't help it!"
"Really?" Daria was confused. -- Pick your nose! --
Immediately, Tiffany began excavating her left nostril. "Ewwwww!" said Daria. "How gross!!"
Tiffany immediately took her hands away from her nose. She looked very angry. "That is soooo not cool!" Her eyes turned darker. "Don't make me slap you!"
"Hey!" said Daria. "I didn't…that is…."
Oh….shit.
(la la LA la la)
Carl Dunlap waited in Mayor Dunlap's room in the ICU. Normally, no one was allowed in an ICU during normal nursing hours…but Carl Dunlap was Carl Dunlap. That Carl Dunlap.
"Mikey, what the fuck happened to you? You look like shit."
Mayor Mike Dunlap muttered under a morphine haze. "Well…bullets will do that to you, little bro."
"Roy is major league pissed. Do you know who did this to you?"
Mike thought about it. The morphine didn't quite kill the pain of the chest tube. "Some guy…came to the mayor's office…began threatening me…said that if I didn't get rid of the Legion…I'd get hurt."
"And did you call the police to arrest his ass?"
"I figured he was just a nut. One of those crank jobs like Tyler Thurmon, who kept telling us that he have the city charter revoked. You know, mentally ill."
"Mike, Tyler Thurmon is a sixty year old drunk lawyer and he's made the same threat for twenty years. When some stranger that you don't know starts making threats, you take them seriously." Carl never figured how Mike got to be mayor. Mike was the middle brother, and Carl was the youngest. That had to be the only reason.
"Too late now. Horse is out of the barn."
"Tell me about it. I've got the police looking in every hotel in Lawndale. So why does this guy hate the Legion?"
"Why should I know? Maybe we need to ask them."
Mike sank back down into his pillow. Carl wasn't there when it all happened. The police weren't there, either. They hadn't seen what he had seen. And after the show the Legion had put on today, Mayor Mike Dunlap had a pretty good idea as to why the Legion was so hated.
(la la LA la la)
Daria walked down the stairs to the ER, with Tiffany following behind her. Tiffany might have slapped her, but…
…but you would have told her not to slap you, and she would have obeyed you. I think Tiffany will do whatever I tell her to do. And maybe, other people will, too.
Daria didn't think that Tiffany would give up the secret. Tiffany had fixated on Daria, somehow, since Tiffany claimed to see some guy called Bai Zhan. Daria had to figure out if this Bai Zhan guy was real, or not! Maybe he had some other information he could tell the Legion.
Too many things to worry about…too many items on my calendar….
Sandi, Quinn, and Jane were waiting for Daria and Tiffany. "Well," said Daria, "your phone works. What's the prognosis?"
"Bad bruise," said Jane. "No broken bones, no punctured lungs. Just my tits burning like hell."
"I think it was buckshot!" said Quinn. "Look!" The five gathered around the two small pellets Quinn found.
"Plastic," said Daria. "And non-magnetic. That's why you couldn't stop it."
"Great," said Jane. "So now this guy can just blast me whenever he feels like it. I do not feel safe."
"I hit him with a lightning blast and I didn't even hurt him," said Quinn.
"And I couldn't read his mind," said Daria. "That makes the third person whose mind I can't read. And I'm beginning to suspect that if I can't read his mind, that he has some kind of power."
"So whooooo is he?" asked Tiffany, not unlike an owl.
"I don't know," said Daria. "I suspect that the police have an APB out on him."
"Why did he try to kill the mayor?" said Quinn.
"Well, God knows I love a mystery," said Daria, "but it's none of our damn business. Why don't we leave the mayor hooked up to his nice morphine pump and just go home?
Maybe when he wakes up, it will have all been a dream."
A policeman walked towards the Legionnaires. "Excuse me…which one of you is…the…head of this little club?"
Sandi and Jane exchanged glances. Jane finally stepped forward. "That would be me."
"Mayor Dunlap wants to see all of you in his ICU. He has a few questions for you."
The five girls looked uneasy. "Okay," said Jane. "We'll see him."
The cell phone hanging from Daria's white canvas/elastic belt began to ring. "That's not you, is it Jane?"
"Nothing up my sleeve," said Jane.
"Hello?" said Daria, answering her blue phone. "Oh…hi Mom. Uh…we're all at Cedars of Lawndale….yes…about the Mayor…I should have called, I'm sorry….okay….bye."
"Great," said Daria. "Mom is on her way."
"Hold down the fort and keep Hurricane Helen from destroying the hospital." Jane staggered forward. "Fashion Club, march!"
(la la LA la la)
Jane, Tiffany, and Sandi assembled about the Mayor's bed.
"I want to thank you," said Mike Dunlap. "You three saved my life."
"Uh…no problem," said Jane. "Glad to help."
"And you girls," moaned Dunlap, "you're…not…what you seem to be…!
Jane couldn't think of what to say. "Nice of you to notice."
Dunlap seemed to collapse into his pillow. "So…how much trouble are you in?"
"Listen", said Jane, "what exactly did he tell you? Did he give you hints as to who he was? And who sent him?"
"Our conversation, Ms. Lane, was short. He said that I was to make sure that the building at the quarry stopped. He offered me a lot of money if that happened. And if it didn't, he said that I would suffer, that the Legion would suffer, and that the rest of Lawndale would suffer."
"In that order?" asked Quinn.
"Yeah," said Dunlap, "I think so. Listen…I have a question…."
"Okay?" asked Jane.
"How…good are you? I mean…at what you do?"
There was some silence. Quinn finally said, "Well, it's not like we get a lot of practice."
"My bet," mumbled Dunlap, "is that he's not going to tangle with you. He's going to finish me off. Then he'll work on the next mayor, until you decide to leave town."
"Like…couldn't you just resign?" asked Sandi.
"Then he goes after your replacement," said Jane. "Shit."
"Well," said Tiffany, "it's not like he would attack a hospital…would he…?"
Jane looked at the other three members of the Fashion Club. It took no mind reading powers to discern Jane's answer.
(la la LA la la)
"Honey!" Helen grabbed Daria in a bearhug. "Are you all right?"
"Sure. We happened to be far enough away from the action. The only one who was in danger was Sandi."
"What kind of crazy people in the world are there these days? I just hope," said Helen, "that you're not traumatized! Although if there was a reason I could think of for giving up the Legion, this would be it."
"Okay."
::- I am so glad that you are alive, Daria. I love you more than you could ever imagine. -::
Daria gulped, and turned off her mind reading power. She was waiting for Helen to drop the shoe, to tell Daria that the jig was up and that it was time for Quinn and Daria to go home. She did not expect Helen to reveal how she felt about her daughter in her thoughts. It was like an arrow going through herDaria's heart.
"Uh…Mom…." Daria mumbled. "iloveyoutoo".
"Huh?" said Helen.
"Nothing," said Daria. "So…we don't have to leave the Legion?"
"Well, why would you? I think that anything that would get you and Quinn involved in helping the community would be wonderful."
"And there was nothing in the news? About floating cars? Or lightning throwing redheads?"
"Why Daria, what are you talking about?"
(la la LA la la)
Hours earlier
Anthony Gilbert watched the tape of Jane floating through the air. He saw it all, saw the red-clad teen face off against the unknown assailant. Another girl in blue ducked as a girl wearing pink zapped the man with some kind of weapon.
It almost looked like it came from Hollywood.
"Well, Jason," he told his reporter, "you did really great work. Really, really great work."
"If you think that was great film, you should have been there on site. You could smell fire in the air. But I mean…how are you going to put it together for the five o'clock?"
"No one else was there, so we have the exclusive. Few witnesses, from what you're telling me. We're going to make this our lead story. We'll run ten minutes of the film unedited. Then we'll cut to you with five minutes of explanation. It will knock every single other story off the newscast, except for weather and sports. The second we wrap up the initial, I want you to make calls to Quest Corporation, I want you to find that Griffin girl, everything. I want to lead again at the six with a live broadcast call. The other affiliates will try to scoop us, but I want to be one step ahead of them. Got it?"
"Got it." The young man walked out, very happy.
Gilbert received an intercom buzz. "Mr. Gilbert, you have a visitor."
"I need to get ready for broadcast. I really don't have the time."
"This man is here on Brendon Stange's request." Brendon Stange was the owner of WBFF.
"Let him in, then." Stange had never interfered with hiring, or running the network, or anything. He left that to his producer. Why now, of all times?
The visitor strode as if to knock down the door with his shoulders. "Hello," he smiled. "My name is John Dynell. We need to talk."